#like everything they went through pushed them impossibly closer

[ghost-go-roasty-mctoasty]

Yk I've been thinking about this and while yeah theyve both gone through much growth together, I think that in terms of their co-dependency they genuinely just got worse.

My original post was worded to be more funny but what i was trying to get across was how Sam, still so young, possibly still with hope of going back to college, threw down everything for 6 whole months to try and bring Dean back. Like he genuinely became quite unstable trying to fix it. And even looking further than s3. In s4 Sam tried to trade places in hell with Dean to save him. Thats insane??? He literally begged a demon to send him to hell just so Dean could be alive and safe. And then ofc s5 when Sam actually did go to hell to save his brother, well, his brother and the world, but mostly his brother. Because what helped him gain back control from the Literal Devil inside of him? It was the fact that Dean was getting hurt.

And then after getting his hell memories back. What kept Sam sane? Making Dean his number 1 rock. And lets go even earlier when Sam was in his hell induced coma after Cas broke his wall. The fact that he was even able to stand, let alone walk all that way to Dean. And he was able to do it simply with the will power and the need to try and save Dean. Because whats the point of going on if you dont have Dean?

S8. Sam literally asked for forgivness from God to forgive him of his evil, treacherous sin of....letting Dean down. Sam genuinely believed that the way to make himself pure would be to repent for letting Dean down. And if that doesnt show how unhealthily attached there are....

And then, they had the opportunity to rid the earth of all demons, and what did they do? Left it as it is. Because Dean basically said that he can't live without Sam, and Sam didnt want to let him down again. He left all the pain of the trials behind simply because Dean didnt want to live without him.

Fast forward to s12. Sam didnt really care about his general well being with the bmol because well, Dean was dead. And whats the point of going on when theres no more Dean? (There aint no me if there aint no you)

And i know we joke about it, but even in that prison cell, they both killed themselves just so they could be with each other again. Like they actually made a deal with a reaper to get out of this prison so they could see each other again and accepted the terms that one of them would have to die?? And they both wanted to go so that they wouldnt have to live without their brother

And in s14, the only thing stopping Dean from getting in that box was Sam. Dean even said so himself! Dean didnt go through with the only thing that could stop Micheal because Sam didn't want Dean to give up and leave him...so he didn't.

Granted, i havent actually properly watched spn in a while, so i might be missing some details, but Sam and Dean have been through so much together, that its just become genuinely impossible for them to live without the other. I was just talking about Sam here but theyve both shown the extreme lengths they would go to to basically make sure that they dont have to keep going without their brother (soulmate)

So no, i genuinely do not understand how sam was even able to walk out of that barn, let alone move on and start a family. After growing up in such awful conditions, being dependent on each other since Sam could walk, their situations only getting worse after they reunited...for lack of a better word, theyre literally addicted to each other. Its not normal.

So after saving the Whole World, and finally getting their lives back, I dont see how Sam could let go that easily. Because theyve lost a lot of people in their lives, but they were always okay as long as they had each other. They were living together in the bunker and were perfectly content like that! They were probably even allowing themselves to think that they could grow old like this. So, i highly doubt that Sam didnt even at least try to bring his big brother back. No way he'd find it okay for Dean, after everything, to leave him like that.

And yes, i get it, theres no more chuck writing their story so hes not going to get a big fancy main character ending, rather a normal hunter ending, but still

Because these two are basically in a symbiotic relationship cmon

How can mystery spot Sam be carry on Sam

[vampzity]

Hii, hope ur doing ok! Can I request reader riding for the first time big cock! jongho with a little of praise kink? 🫶🏼✨

first time with jongho

[warnings]: smut!! MDNI 18+, unprotected car sex, cock riding, praise kink, clit play, breast play, creampie mentioned, pet names (princess, baby)

word count: 1.3k

jongho went above and beyond to make you feel loved, to make sure you felt loved. he was your first everything, and he understood that it took alot for you to even trust him as a boyfriend. he never pushed you to do anything that you didn’t want to do, whether it was sexually or not.

he didn’t kiss you until you were ready. he didn’t touch you out of context if he knew it would make you uncomfortable. he didn’t even ask about sex, it just wasn’t the prime thing he cared for.

that’s why it came as a surprise to him when you suddenly asked to fuck him. it was out of the blue— especially for you, though he figured you must’ve been that comfortable to want to do such a thing. jongho would nod his head at your request, constantly asking if this was something you were 100% ready to do. this was your first time— your first time with him, and he wanted to make sure you felt special.

you two were in a car when asked, a little hard but not entirely impossible. he found a discreet dark spot, turning off the lights to the car and locking it as he climbed to the backseat. you followed him to the back, sitting next to him as he admired your shy state.

“is it ok if i touch you baby?” he was always so gentle with his choice of words.

you agreed to it, letting him cup your face as his lips moved sensually against your own. he’d pull your body closer to his, leaning against the car wall as your knee wedged itself between his thighs. his poor cock twitched at your action, growing slowly against your knee and scaring you just a bit. he slipped his tongue between your lips, the kiss soon growing hotter as you two engulfed each other.

jongho’s lips trailed down to your neck— sucking on it softly in different places but making sure to not leave a mark. his hand snaked up your waist, pushing your shirt with it as he yearned to pull it off of you. his thumb brushed against your nipple, earning a soft moan out of you as they hardened.

“you like that?” he’d rub your nipple just softly with his thumb. “tell me you like it baby.”

he pulled your pants down, leaving you in only your panties as his fingers rested against your clothed folds. he would rub his hand slightly, creating little friction between the cloth and your bud. your wetness seeped through your underwear, only making him want to tear them off of you. your sweet moans filled the car as he stuck his hand into your panties, feeling your warm and wetness coat his fingers.

your shirt was thrown into the floor at this point and his mouth was all over your chest. his tongue would work at your nipples, flicking and sucking them until they grew swollen as his hand toyed with your heat. he adored seeing you squirm, seeing how worked up he was getting you without even being inside of you yet.

“jjong please.” it was barely above a whisper as your desperation to be stuffed grew within you. “need you.”

he followed your wishes, pulling his pants down and taking his aching cock out from his underwear. a quiet groan escaped him as the tip of his member leaked slightly, stroking it a few times to ease the pain. your eyes widened at his length, seeing how he was not only long but had girth. it scared you just a bit, wondering if your mind would play tricks on you to make you think it would hurt. jongho held your hand, caressing it softly as an attempt to reassure you.

“we don’t have to if you’re not ready.”

you shook your head quickly, moving yourself to get on top of his member. you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the quick sharp pain you were about to feel from his size. jongho hissed as your cunt slowly makes its way down his girth, his grip on your waist tightening. your walls clenched repeatedly around his cock and a soft moan escaped you as you took a moment to adjust to him.

“just like that baby. you’re doing so well already.”

jongho kept his hands on the sides of your waist, his breath becoming harsher as you rode him slowly. your whimpers filled the car’s silence as you felt his cock up against your cervix, practically pushing against it. his aching cock stretching you out with every squeeze that your walks forced upon him.

“so good..” you managed to mumble, throwing your head back as you got used to his length.

his hand snaked up your body and caressed your tits, his thumb swirling around the nipple softly. it was his mere attempt at getting a rise out of you. and boy did it work. you sped up just a bit, your whimpers turning into desperate moans. the ridges of your walls ran along his cock, squeezing him with every inch you took.

jongho was fighting to not cum in you, especially not this quickly. he wanted to savor this moment for as long as possible without tiring you out. he leaned over, his lips brushing past your ear and his breath making the hairs on your neck dance.

“you ride me so good baby.” your heart was racing at his words. “keep going like this and i might have to fill up this little hole of yours.”

it went on for minutes, all while jongho made sure you were okay. he knew he was pretty big, but he also knew you were a big girl. of course you could handle it.

he noticed your movements quickening with every passing second. your desperation, your urge to reach your high. the way your arms wrapped around his neck as your moans turned into high pitched whines.

“gonna cum for me princess?”

you nodded your head pleadingly, wanting nothing more than to leave a mess ontop of him. jongho’s hand held your chin firmly, forcing you to meet his dark hooded eyes. he tilted his head at you, raising an eyebrow.

“what was that? couldn’t hear you over all that whining you’re doing.”

he began fucking you from under, watching as your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pounding against your sweet spot. you felt your walls caving in from his movement, squeezing his swollen cock.

“yes, yes, yes. please let me cum jjong.”

a small smile crept across his face as he kissed against your neck, whispering dirty praises into your ear to get you going.

“that’s my good girl.. you’re so pretty when you listen.. look at how well you’re taking it..”

within moments you fell apart on top of him. your walls sparked uncontrollably as your cream coated his member, making him finish quickly after you. jongho wrapped his arms around you and held you closely as you both rode out your highs, his teeth sinking into your skin as his hot load shot into you.

he held you like this for some time, his chin resting on your head as you rested it on his shoulder. you didn’t wanna move from this position— trying to make the most out of losing your virginity while keeping a good memory with it.

“you ok baby?” he mumbled, making sure not to started you.

you nodded your head, keeping your body close to his as you calmed down. yet even after the heat of it all, a part of you wanted more.

no— you craved more.

“want you.”

jongho’s eyes widened at your request, laughing quietly as he rubbed your back.

“if that’s what you want, then i’ll make good use of it.”

a/n: sorry this took me so long! i’ve been so caught up with work lately & didn’t have the energy to finish quicker :(

taglist: @dvrktvnnel @scarfac3 @h4untedgrl @jjongibears @rvereri @kittykat-25 @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @joonezra @honeyhwaaa @potentialgay @dollywoo @motherseonghwa23 @losrpark @stephanieeeyang @inniesfanblog @galaxy4489 @fangirljas929 @desirehorizon @channiesluvrclub @katsukis1wife @unbel1ve4ble @sojuxxi @bbykaixx @felixleftchickennugget @gncbnahc @jwnghyuns @kjr-army @tahiraax1 @wonderz_real @xxcinnamon-toast-crunchxx @hyunmikim @lov3yv4mps @jujusreader @heechwe @nopension

[itsaintmebabe]

when it matters most

summary: when y/n is gravely injured and brought back to town, joel must confront his feelings and the fear of losing her.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

notes: something about hurt to comfort is just my fav

Jackson was quiet until the yelling started.

“Open the gate! Open the gate!”

Joel’s heart slammed against his ribs as the urgency in the voices hit him. The panic in them twisted something deep and cold inside him. He didn’t think, he just ran.

Since he and Ellie had arrived in Jackson, Joel and Y/N had been at odds. They clashed over everything patrol schedules, supply counts, even the best way to fortify the gates. Their arguments were loud and frequent, and everyone in Jackson had learned to steer clear when the two of them were in the same room.

But when the other wasn’t looking, it was different.

Joel’s eyes would soften when he caught a glimpse of her laughing with the kids in town. Y/N’s gaze would linger when she thought he wasn’t paying attention, watching the way his shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Neither would admit it, not even to themselves.

One of their worst fights had happened just days before.

“You act like you’re the only one who’s ever lost someone, Joel!” Y/N’s voice cracked with the force of her anger. “You shut everyone out like it’s some kind of punishment!”

“You don’t know a damn thing about my losses,” Joel shot back, his face hard. “So don’t stand there and act like you understand!”

“I understand more than you think! But you’re too busy pushing everyone away to see it!”

“Maybe I push you away because you keep pushin’ in where you’re not wanted!” The words lashed out before he could stop them, and the second they did, he regretted them. But it was too late.

Y/N’s face fell, the fire in her eyes dimming. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

But now, now she was stumbling toward Jackson, covered in blood.

Joel’s heart dropped.

Her steps were uneven, her body swaying like she could barely stay upright. Blood streaked her face, her jacket was soaked with it, and her arms hung limp at her sides. There was no horse. No patrol group. She was alone.

“Y/N!”

His voice cracked as he sprinted toward her.

Her eyes lifted when she heard him, and even through the exhaustion and pain, she tried to move faster. But she didn’t make it far. Her knees buckled, and Joel reached her just in time, catching her before she hit the ground.

“Joel…” her voice was weak, barely above a whisper.

“Shh, I got you,” he murmured, brushing her hair back from her face. “Stay with me, baby, just stay awake, alright? Keep your eyes on me.”

She was trembling violently, her skin far too cold, and without thinking, Joel shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around her. The fabric drowned her, but it was warm, and that was all that mattered. She curled into it instinctively, her fingers weakly grasping at it as if she could pull his warmth closer.

“Stay with me,” Joel pleaded again, his voice breaking. “Y/N, please.”

People rushed around them, calling for help, but Joel barely heard them. His world narrowed to the woman in his arms.

When they finally took her from him, Joel didn’t let go, he carried her himself, his arms tight around her, as if holding her close could keep her safe. She went still against his chest, and his heart pounded with fear.

The waiting was agony.

He stood outside the infirmary, his hands still stained with her blood and the blood of others. It was impossible to tell which was hers, and the not knowing made his stomach twist. His fingers trembled as he stared down at them, the blood of the woman he cared about more than he could admit, and there hadn’t been a damn thing he could do to stop it.

Ellie found him pacing the hallway. “She’s tough,” she said quietly. “She’ll pull through.”

But Joel couldn’t shake the cold fear lodged in his chest.

It felt like forever before the door finally opened and Maria stepped out. “She’s stable,” she said, and Joel’s knees nearly buckled with relief.

When he finally saw her, she was pale and bandaged, but breathing. Alive.

Joel sat beside the bed, his rough hand brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “You scared the hell out of me,” he whispered. “I— I didn’t know if—” he swallowed hard. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, tired but focused on him. “Why… why are you here?” she asked softly.

“Because I care,” Joel said, his voice thick. “More than I ever wanted to admit. And I’m sorry, for every damn thing I said. For every time I pushed you away when all you ever did was try.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “You… you pushed so hard, Joel. It hurt.”

“I know,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I know it did. And it was never because I didn’t care. It was because I cared too much. I was scared, Y/N. Scared of losin’ you before I even had you.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “You have me,” she whispered.

Joel let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against hers. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “But I swear to you, I’m not pushin’ you away again.”

For the first time, her hand reached for his, their fingers tangling together. And when he climbed onto the bed beside her, she didn’t let go. She rested her head against his chest, and Joel pressed a gentle kiss to her hair.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he promised, his voice a soft vow.

And this time, she believed him.

[ilsanslut]

꒷♡꒷ STRESS RELIEF!

♰ featuring: wriothesley [genshin impact]

♰ note: i’m in heat and all i can think about is a stressed and tired wriothesley eating out his pretty gf from the back to relieve his tension.

sypnosis: get you a man who will drown in your pussy and call it “stress relief”! wc: 2.6k content/trigger warning(s): 18+. smut. femme/female bodied!reader. messy pussy-eating. dominant/feral!wriothesley. marking. biting. spanking. squirting. cursing. hand-holding. groping. hair pulling. ꒷꒦

It was almost as though Wriothesley was being crushed under the constant pressure of his job as the warden within the shadowy confines of the Fortress of Meropide. The burden of his obligations bore down on him like the merciless force of the sea that imprisoned them all within the stronghold. When a problem arose or strife broke out among the prisoners, he was the one they all turned to for help. Today, on the other hand, appeared to be the day that he would be pushed to his breaking point. There was a mountain of paperwork that was piled high on top of his desk and seemed to never end; the pipes seemed to trickle and leak indefinitely, necessitating constant repair; the elevators are out of commission for maintenance, forcing everyone to use the forgotten, decrepit, and mildew-smelling stairwell; and, to top it all off, there is a 'Credit Coupon' thief swiping people's credits beneath their noses. And, not to mention, he had been so backed up with dealing with everyone else’s problems that he had already missed his afternoon tea.

Anyone near could feel the ominous aura radiating off of the iron doors of his office.

Though, amidst the chaos and tension, one beacon of solace shone through—you. His light in the darkness. The one thing keeping him sane.

Your warm smile and unwavering support were the calming forces that held the key to unlocking his cold heart. He craved the comforting words you spoke, the softness of your touch, and the calm you provided amidst the chaos of everyday life. You turned into a haven for him—a haven from the relentless pressure that felt like it would swallow him.

Which is exactly why you weren’t surprised when a guard came to you while you were aiding Sigewinne with a patient, informing you that the Duke requested your presence in his office immediately. Lunch was usually shared by the two of you, but you expected that he would be too overwhelmed with work to remember to eat, let alone take a break, given everything he has been going through. The two guards outside his office gave you a pitying glance as you got closer, understanding that things were not good. Nevertheless, they let you cross the bridge and into his office. You went in, and the first thing you saw was Wriothesley sitting on the bottom two steps, as if he were waiting for you. You noticed that his tie was unkempt, his jacket was completely abandoned, and his hair had a disheveled tousle that suggested he had either been tugging or running his hands through it for at least a while. That, and it was impossible to ignore the worn-out look in his faded hues.

But as soon as your eyes met, his worn-out expression changed to something strange but familiar—something you had seen on many sultry nights spent by yourself with him in the past. His eyes were fixed on you, freezing you in place with an indisputable lust, a carnal hunger, and a burning desire. Pushing himself up from the steps, he moved toward you with calculated, deliberate steps, each one more heavy than the last, like a beast cornering its prey, his heavy steel boots clinking against the copper floors. Soon, he was towering over you, hands twitching at his sides as though he were refraining from tearing you apart where you stood.

“You look good.” You blurted, swallowing thickly in your throat, as you were cornered against the heavy steel of his office’s door.

He chuckled, throaty and sultry, as his hand met your waist, the other one coming to rest it’s forearm above your head as he caged you between the door and his muscular frame, “Yeah?”

His casual drawl had your knees going weak, threatening to buckle beneath you while his thumb rubbed slow, salacious circles into your hip. “I think I’ve been better.”

You shrugged nonchalantly with an indifferent hum, raising your hands to trail absentminedly over his large chest that bulged through his dress shirt, finally coming to toy with his tie. “Mhm. You missed lunch today, you know.”

“Did I?” His voice was husky—deep, the subtle rumble of his baritone voice going straight to your core causing your thighs to squeeze against one another—an action that didn’t go unnoticed by Wriothesley, who’s palms grew hungry on you, manuvering behind you to grope thick handfuls of your rear shamelessly. “I’ve been so swamped with work that it must’ve slipped my mind. But . . . I’m sure you understand, right, baby?” His arm that was poised above your head lowered, his partially gloved thumb stroking at the supple flesh of your cheek. “Why don’t you let me make it up to you, yeah? . . . I have an idea that will make us both happy.”

You had an idea as to what he was alluding to, but nonetheless, you nodded with a hum of agreement. This made Wriothesley smirk in response, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear so that he may lean in and press a kiss to your temple.

“Turn around.”

His dominant undertone left little room for argument as you did what he asked, turning around so that you were facing the metal door of his office. Without another moment's hesitation, you felt yourself pushed against it, your body pinned against Wriothesley's heated form with your cheek smushed against the cold metal face of the door. His body pressed firmly against yours, and you felt something unmistakable grinding into your ass, all the while his sharp canines drug themselves up your neck, a silent warning to stay put.

And you did.

Hot, sloppy kisses trailed themselves down the back of your neck as greedy palms groped and squeezed at your body wherever they could reach—almost as though they were attempting to alleviate tension with every heated touch. Sensing his descent, you eventually heard him drop to his knees behind you, his gloved hands reaching up to lift your skirt and turn it over to expose your plump, pliant rear. A growl, something animalistic and ravenous, came from the back of his throat, and one of those large palms rose for a split second before slapping your right cheek, making you squeal and making Wriothesley laugh.

“Careful, Y/N.” He chided, using his palms to massage the abused flesh as an imprint of his hand—ringed fingers and all—slowly began to appear on your ass. “This door may be thick, but this chamber echos. You don’t want the guards and—Gods know who else—hearing you on the other side, do you~?”

You felt your face heat up against the frigid door’s surface, now acutely aware of the silence on the other side, which meant his guards were now undoubtedly listening. Nonetheless, you nodded, casting a shy glance over your shoulder to your lover, who was already gazing up at you with half-lidded eyes and that salacious smirk on his face that just made your knees go weak and your folds gush with arousal.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that though,” He stated nonchalantly, leaning over to press a soft kiss against your ass as sinful digits reached up to peel your already soaked panties down your thighs until they pooled at your ankles. Wriothesley groaned inwardly, his pupils blown, as he used his thumbs to spread you apart in all your glory, admiring how your folds glistened in the dim lights of the lower floor of his office. “*I can’t promise that I’ll be going easy on you either, baby.”

Without saying another word, his hands reached out and took firm hold of both your cheeks, spreading them wide before plunging straight into your dripping folds. Immediately, your knees were buckling beneath you as a pleasured mewl escaped your lips, your nails dragging against the metal surface in an attempt to find purchase. With his hands leaving your ass to wrap around the front of your thighs, his tongue was unrelenting as it ruthlessly claimed every inch of your pussy to himself, drawing you closer to him so he could continue to devour you. His tongue was hot, heavy, and drooling as it spread you wide open, encircling your clit, and slurping up whatever delicious goodness you had to offer. His nose pressed deep into your wetness, drowning in your depths, but he did not seem to care in the slightest. He wanted more—craved more—and one thing about Wriothesley was that he was a man who got what he wanted.

His tongue and ravenous lips wrapped around your tender nub and sucked away like a starving man enjoying the sweetest nectar of life, leaving you a moaning mess above him and unable to stop your hips from moving on their own as you practically fucked yourself against his face. You didn’t care if the guards—or anyone else, for that matter—heard you. All you could focus on was how his sweltering and deft mouth had you practically creaming onto his selfish brims already.

“Wrio~!” You keened, nearly losing your footing had it not been for Wriothesley keeping you firmly in place by his grip. “I-I can’t! I-It’s too much!” You whimpered just as another cry drew from your lips from a jolt of pleasure from your nethers.

In response, you felt another sharp spank rain down on your ass, and Wriothesley finally withdrew, but only so that he could snarl out, “You can and you will. Fucking take it, Y/N.” He was breathless, panting—truly, a man starved in his most primal state.

He pulled away momentarily, strings of your arousal clinging to the lower half of his face, which was glistening in your translucent juices, to turn to your inner thighs. His jaw widened before clamping down harshly on your once supple flesh, biting and sucking the blood to it’s surface to leave furious marks in his wake.

“Wriothesley!” You wept with delight and surprise at the lewd action that made your folds rub together, and you were unable to ignore the disgustingly lewd squelching sound that came from your cunt.

He repeated the same action, this time on your ass cheek, taking the pliant flesh between his teeth and delivering yet another primal bite to your soft skin, effectively marking you. “Shit, Y/N.” His heated breath wafted over your clit, making you clench around nothing as he huffed and panted like a mutt against your thigh, an action that your attentive lover obviously noticed. “The things you do to me . . .~”

Without saying anything more, he plunged back into you, even more intense than before. With his deft fingers reaching around your front and rubbing quick, merciless circles onto your clit, he was aiming at his sole target, your sopping hole. Pushing his tongue in and out of your wetness, he slurped every last drop of your sweet juices onto his tongue. He was milking you like a machine—using your clit as the trigger to release more and more of your translucent fluids onto his tongue, which he rapaciously gluped down. All the while, your toes curled in your shoes, and as every one of his hot, heavy pants exhaled through his nose, you were able to feel it against your pretty asshole.

“Wrio, wrio, baby, please! R-Right there, I-I’m gonna . .” Your hasty pleas were cut off, your hand reaching back to tangle itself into your boyfriend’s smokey locks, holding him in place as you basically rode his tongue.

You felt him chuckling against your folds before you heard him, unable to stop the sharp cry that escaped you from the sudden vibration. His hand left your clit, however, it was soon replaced with his mouth in favor of meeting your hand with his own. He pried your death grip from his locks, intertwining his fingers with your own as his head shook back and forth between your thighs. His lips suckled away at you in such an unforgiving way that it made your head spin and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Anyone within the immediate vicinity could definitely hear the unabashed slurping and squleching sounds emanating from his efforts as they reverberated through his office's chambers.

He took your hand in his and massaged calming circles around your knuckles until you finally came undone in front of him, unable to contain your overwhelming euphoria. A series of cries and mewls left your lips, leaving you breathless as your juices came flooding out of you, drenching your lover’s face and attire in a torrent, which he happily gulped down. Had it not been for his grip on your frame, you most definitely would’ve collapsed, but he held you firmly against him, even using his face to support your weight at one point like your own personal seat—because it was. After all, he was yours just as much as you were his, and he’d be damned if anything tried to change that.

His hurried movements subsided during your high, his tongue now languidly stroking your folds to carry you through your blissful daze; still, you could not control your hips from lurching each time he touched your tender, pulsating nub. Before long, he began to back off, giving you some leverage and giving himself space to finally breathe. His hot breath wafted against your behind, his chest rising and falling with each breath, finally being kind enough to himself to give him the sweet, sweet oxygen his lungs had been begging for.

Slowly, he rose from behind you, your half-lidded gaze meeting his own through the tears that formed on your lash line, which he wiped away with a swipe of his thumb.

“Y’still with me, pretty?” He whispered in a honeyed drawl, placing a soft kiss against your shoulder as the hand that was holding your own moved to your bicep to rub soothing circles along your arm.

You nodded, albeit weakly, still recovering from the mind-shattering orgasm he had just put you through.

“Y’feel better now, Wrio?”

He responded with a hearty chuckle, rolling his neck in a tantilizing way that exposed his throbbing Adam’s apple and scarred throat. His gaze met your own again, this time with a familiar spark burning behind his dusky hues, “Ahh, a’litte bit.”

He leaned over you once again, his forearm resting above your head as his chest pressed against your back. You gasped, your hips jolting as you felt his rock-hard bulge pressing against you, just barely managing to graze your sopping folds.

“Still feeling a little ‘tense’ here . . . but you’d be willing to help me out,” He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. Although you couldn’t see him, you could practically feel the smirk beaming from his stupidly handsome face.

“Right, baby?”

Oh, he was going to be the death of you someday.

ⓒ vampiie 2024 — all rights reserved. please do not repost my work outside of tumblr, modify, or translate my work in any form/means. please do not share my work to tiktok or any other site.

[foli-vora]

devil in the night

matt murdock x f!reader

A/N: i should be asleep but lmao, here we are. the brain just went 'matt sneaking into your room and eating you out while you're asleep' and i flung the blankets away and reached for my laptop like 'yes i understand completely'. it's been a while since i've written for matty and i have missed him immensely. enjoy angels! x

Word count: 700ish i think idk

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY - somnophilia, oral (f rec), overstimulation, matty being a hungry hungry boi, helmet stays on coz i like that shit

Your window is unlocked. Of course it is. It gives way under his gentle push until he’s able to creep through, the cool night breeze following him in and rustling your light drapes.

The slow, steady breaths that fill the room tell him you’re asleep, long lost to dreams with absolutely no awareness that he lurks in the shadows of your bedroom and his heart beats harder, thrumming strongly within his chest until he feels the heavy pulse of it in his head. He follows the breaths, chases the familiar scent of you until he can feel you close, the heat of your body stinging at his skin.

The mattress gives way under his knees and his hands reach to seek you out, following the form of your legs underneath the blankets until he feels the edge of them tucked loosely around your waist. He pulls at them softly, listening to the slide of cotton drag over your body until you’re bared to the room and he’s able to feel you properly.

Gloves run over bare skin and he can’t help the smirk that tugs at his lips. Did you anticipate his arrival? Did you sink into your pillows and think about this very moment? Did you work yourself up thinking about the heat of his mouth?

He hardens to the point of pain at the thought.

His hands part your thighs easily, careful not to jostle you as he settles onto his stomach and makes himself at home between your legs—his favourite place to be. You barely move, so deep in a slumber he doubts you’d notice much of anything at this point.

The smooth surface of his helmet rests against the heat of your thigh as he takes a moment to breathe you in, letting the scent of your pussy settle heavy on his tongue until the vicious tug of his appetite can’t take it for a second longer.

It’s been too damn long. He’ll ask for forgiveness later. 

He’s soft about it.

There’s no rush—he has the rest of the night and he’s not moving until he’s sure he’ll have the taste of you clinging to his skin for the rest of the day.

His tongue drags leisurely over you, feeling the gentle parting of your folds under muscle until the sweet tang of your arousal sinks richly into his taste buds and he has to harshly fist the sheets to keep from groaning.

This is what he needs.

He finds your clit, softly circling it over and over until your scent in the room thickens and it’s all he knows, all he can breathe. He moves to lap at the wetness gathering at your entrance, unable to resist pressing impossibly closer to you, licking deeply, hungrily into your cunt until you’re flooding his tongue and smearing across his chin.

You’ll soon feel the burn of his stubble as he works you over more and more.

He goes back and forth, taking his time building your arousal up by lavishing your clit with soft laps and gentle strokes before practically drinking from you, tongue prodding and dragging against the slick walls of your pussy. He’s lost track of time, oblivious to anything and everything beyond this room, beyond you, by the time you begin to stir.

Your heart flutters, your breath catches and then you’re seeking him out, a hand soon meeting one of the sharp points of his helmet before your fingers stretch over the chilled back of it. You’re almost there—he can feel it, hear it, taste it.

He keeps his pace steady, feeling no need to rush you to the finish line as his tongue swirls and circles and flattens over your clit again and again.

A sleepy moan of his name falls from your lips when you reach your peak and he can’t help but rut into the firm mattress as you flood his tongue, the muscles in your thighs jumping and jerking beneath his hold.

“Shh,” he coos quietly against you when you start to pull away from his mouth, cunt sensitive and overworked. He's not done, not yet. “Let me enjoy you, sweetheart. I need it, please.”

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

ANIMALS

inspired by the song ‘Animals’ by Maroon 5.

rafe cameron x kook!fem!reader

SUMMARY: in a world where obsession blurs the lines between love and hate, Y/N and rafe cameron are locked in a toxic game of desire and dominance. as the tension between them reaches a boiling point, rafe’s possessiveness and Y/N’s defiance threaten to expose the truth—some animals can’t resist the hunt.

based on this ask !! i hope this is everything you asked for anon, and i’m so so sorry it’s taken so long, i took a cheeky writing break !!🫣 you didn’t specify if you wanted smut or not, but you can stop just before the smut when they get to the bedroom if you wish <3

WARNINGS: lighthearted angst, enemies w/ benefits, smut (18+ mdni!), alcohol consumption, slut-shaming (?), bitchy!reader, unprotected p in v (wrap it before ya tap it!), doggy style (bent over vanity), rough sex, manhandling (😝), hair pulling, jealous!rafe, reader throws a drink on rafe. (i think that’s it? lmk if i missed anything !!)

A/N: you can imagine any era rafe during this, but i do mention him having hair as reader pulls it, but i do see buzz cut!rafe in this too😫

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

THIRD PERSON +

The summer air was thick with humidity, the nights heavy with tension on the Outer Banks. Parties spilled onto beachfronts and estates, bonfires lighting up the endless skies. Y/N had the world at her feet—a true Kook princess with her sharp tongue, dazzling smile, and a touch of venom.

She played her cards perfectly, commanding the room wherever she went.

Rafe Cameron, however, was her shadow—a predator who stalked the edges of her light. He was trouble wrapped in an expensive polo, a cocktail of entitlement, rage, and obsession. The two of them didn’t get along in public. They’d perfected the art of bickering, their sharp remarks drawing laughter from Kooks and Pogues alike.

But beneath the surface, there was something darker, something intoxicating they could never resist.

—

The party was in full swing at Tannyhill, the gilded walls reflecting the warm glow of the chandelier overhead. Kooks milled about, drinks in hand, laughter echoing off the high ceilings. Y/N leaned casually against the marble counter in the kitchen, a glass of champagne dangling from her manicured fingers. She looked every bit the spoiled, self-assured girl everyone knew her to be—her designer dress clinging to her figure like a second skin, her lips painted in a deep shade that matched the smug smirk on her face.

Across the room, Rafe Cameron leaned against the doorway, his sharp jawline tightening as he watched her. He hated how she always seemed so effortlessly in control, like she knew exactly how to drive him crazy. He hated it even more when she turned her head and caught his eye, her smirk widening into something far more dangerous.

"Staring much, Cameron?" Y/N called out, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Rafe pushed off the doorframe, weaving through the crowd with the precision of a predator closing in on his prey. He came to a stop inches away from her, his blue eyes locking onto hers. "Can you blame me? You make it impossible not to look."

Y/N arched an eyebrow, unfazed by his proximity. "Careful, Rafe. Your obsession is showing."

His lips curved into a smirk, but there was nothing playful about it. "Obsession? Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart. I'm just curious how someone so perfect at pretending to be untouchable keeps ending up in my bed."

Her smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, but she recovered quickly. "Must be all that champagne. Makes it hard to remember mistakes."

Rafe leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. "Mistake? We both know I'm the only thing you can't resist. You're just too proud to admit it."

Y/N's stomach twisted, but she refused to let him see how much his words affected her. She tilted her head, her voice as cold as ice. "Funny, I don't recall needing to admit anything to you."

Before Rafe could respond, JJ appeared at her side, slinging an arm over her shoulder. "Hey, pretty girl. Thought you'd ditched us for your old Kook crowd."

Rafe's jaw tightened, his glare shifting to JJ. "Don't you have a surfboard to wax or something, Pogue?"

JJ ignored him, flashing Y/N a grin. "Let's get out of here. This party's dead."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting to Rafe, whose expression darkened. She knew exactly what she was doing when she looped her arm through JJ's and started toward the door.

"Don't go too far, Y/N," Rafe called after her, his voice low and threatening. "You can run, but you'll always end up right back here."

—

The night air was cool as Y/N sat on the dock, the soft lapping of the water providing a brief reprieve from the chaos of the party. She'd barely been there for five minutes when she heard footsteps behind her.

"Couldn't stay away, could you?" she said without turning around.

Rafe dropped down beside her, his knees brushing hers. "You're really testing my patience tonight."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "What, did JJ's existence bruise your fragile ego?"

"You think this is a joke?" Rafe growled, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. "I see the way you act around Maybann. Like you're trying to piss me off on purpose."

She yanked her face away, her voice sharp. "Maybe I am. Ever think about that?"

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, she thought he might snap. Instead, he leaned back, his smirk returning. "Go ahead, keep playing your little games. But we both know how this ends."

"Enlighten me," she said dryly.

Rafe's voice dropped to a whisper, his hand brushing against her cheek. "You can't run from me, Y/N. You belong to me, whether you like it or not. And no Pogue or party can change that."

The tension crackled between them like a live wire. She hated how much his words got to her, how his touch sent shivers down her spine. But she'd be damned if she let him win.

"Is that so?" she said sweetly, picking up her glass and tossing the bubbly contents into his face.

The champagne dripped from his hair, and for a moment, the shock on his face was enough to make her burst out laughing. But then his lips curled into a dangerous smile, and she knew she'd made a mistake.

"You're gonna regret that," Rafe said, his voice low and dangerous.

Y/N stood, her confidence unshaken. "Try me, Cameron."

As she walked away, swaying her hips a little more than usual, she could feel his eyes burning into her back. She knew she was playing with fire, but part of her loved the thrill of it. She and Rafe were two sides of the same coin, locked in a game neither of them could quit.

Because deep down, she knew he was right. No matter how far she ran, he'd always find her. And part of her didn't want him to stop.

—

The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the beach outside The Wreck, where Y/N sat at a picnic table surrounded by her friends. Sarah was leaning back on the bench, sunglasses perched on her nose, while Kie propped her chin on her hand, animatedly recounting a story. Cleo chuckled beside her, and Y/N's two Kook friends, Taylor and Malia, leaned in with interest, their perfectly styled hair catching the light.

The scene was serene, a picture-perfect group of girls enjoying themselves on the edge of paradise. But Y/N couldn't focus. Across the sandy expanse, near a beat-up truck surrounded by Kooks, Rafe Cameron stood with Topper, Kelce, and a couple of others, the unmistakable swagger in his stance making him impossible to ignore.

Y/N sipped her iced tea, letting her gaze flicker toward him briefly. He was watching her—had been since the moment she arrived. His intense blue eyes tracked her every move, smoldering with a mix of anger, desire, and something darker. She could feel his stare like a physical touch, and though it sent a shiver down her spine, she wasn't about to let him win.

"Y/N, hello?" Kie waved a hand in front of her face. "Earth to Kook Barbie. You're zoning out."

Y/N snapped her attention back to the group, giving Kie a lazy smile. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Forget it," Kie said, rolling her eyes. "You've got that look again."

"What look?" Y/N asked innocently, toying with the straw in her glass.

Sarah smirked. "The one you get when my brother is around. Don't think we didn't notice."

"Oh, please," Y/N said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Like I care about whatever Rafe is doing."

Cleo raised an eyebrow, a sly grin spreading across her face. "You might not care, but he sure does. Dude's been staring at you like he wants to devour you."

Y/N scoffed but didn't deny it. Before she could come up with a cutting remark, their waiter approached—a new guy, tall and tanned with a charming smile, and black curls sitting atop his head. He carried a tray of drinks with ease, his eyes lighting up when they landed on Y/N.

"Afternoon, ladies," he said, setting the tray down. "Your drinks, courtesy of...well, me."

Kie raised a brow. "My parents own this place. You don't have to do that."

The waiter grinned, but his attention stayed on Y/N. "Consider it a perk of working here."

The girls giggled, and Y/N leaned back in her seat, tilting her head. "Wow, how generous," she said, her tone teasing.

"It's not every day I get to serve someone like you," the waiter replied smoothly.

Y/N feigned shock, her hand fluttering to her chest. "Someone like me? You mean, devastatingly gorgeous and completely out of your league?"

The girls burst into laughter, and even the waiter chuckled, though his cheeks flushed a little. "I wouldn't say out of my league," he shot back with a wink.

Y/N could practically feel Rafe's glare burning into her from across the beach, and that knowledge made her smirk grow. She leaned forward slightly, giving the waiter her full attention. "Careful," she said, her voice low and sweet. "Flattery might just get you somewhere."

The poor guy was about to respond when the door to The Wreck slammed open, and in walked Rafe, flanked by Topper, Kelce, and the other Kooks. Their arrival was loud, drawing the attention of nearly everyone in the restaurant.

"Oh, for the love of God," Sarah muttered, pulling her sunglasses down. "What are they doing here?"

"They're like cockroaches," Taylor grumbled. "You can't get rid of them."

The boys took a table near the girls, Rafe purposefully sitting with a clear view of Y/N. She didn't miss the way his gaze flicked to the waiter, who had quickly retreated to the kitchen, and then back to her. His jaw was tight, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the table.

"Y/N," Rafe called, his voice cutting through the chatter. "Having fun?"

Y/N turned her head slowly, fixing him with a bored expression. "Immensely. Thanks for asking."

Topper snickered, leaning back in his chair. "You sure about that? Looked like your new boyfriend was trying a little too hard."

"Jealous, Top?" Y/N shot back, her tone saccharine sweet. "I didn't think I was your type."

Rafe's smirk widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. "What's the matter, Y/N? You settling for waiters now?"

The girls groaned audibly, Malia muttering, "Here we go."

Y/N leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table as she met Rafe's gaze head-on. "What's the matter, Rafe? Can't handle a little competition?"

"There's no competition," he shot back, his voice dripping with confidence. "We both know how this ends."

The tension between them was palpable, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. Kie looked ready to intervene, but Sarah grabbed her arm, shaking her head.

"You're delusional," Y/N said, her voice sharp. "Just because you can't handle rejection doesn't mean I'm going to cater to your bruised ego."

Rafe leaned back in his chair, his smirk unwavering. "Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. But we both know the truth."

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. Y/N's cheeks felt warm, but whether it was from anger or something else, she couldn't tell.

"Let's go," Kie said firmly, grabbing Y/N's arm.

Y/N stood abruptly, glaring at Rafe. "You're pathetic, Cameron. Enjoy your boys' club."

As the girls filed out, Y/N could feel Rafe's eyes on her, his stare as possessive and unyielding as ever.

Back at their table, Topper and Kelce were laughing, but Rafe wasn't paying attention. His mind was elsewhere, his fists clenching as he replayed the interaction with the waiter. Without a word, he got up and made his way to the kitchen.

The waiter was leaning against the counter when Rafe approached, his towering presence immediately unsettling.

"Hey," Rafe said, his voice low and menacing.

The waiter looked up, his brow furrowing. "Uh, can I help you?"

Rafe stepped closer, his gaze cold. "Yeah. Stay the hell away from Y/N."

The waiter blinked, confused. "What? Dude, I was just—"

"You were just what?" Rafe interrupted, his voice rising. "Flirting with her? Trying to impress her? Let me make this clear: she's mine. So back off. You so much as even breathe near her, I will be the reason you never will again. Got it?”

The waiter raised his hands in surrender, clearly shaken. "Alright, man. Chill. I didn't know she was...yours."

Rafe smirked, satisfied. "Now you do. Keep it that way."

As he walked back to his table, Rafe felt a grim sense of satisfaction. Y/N could play her little games, but he'd always win. She was his—whether she admitted it or not.

—

The bass thumped through the walls of Y/N's sprawling Figure 8 estate, the music so loud it felt like it shook the floor beneath Rafe's feet. The party was in full swing, her infamous gatherings never failing to attract the entire island—Kooks and Pogues alike. For one night, the divide that separated them blurred under the haze of expensive liquor, pulsating lights, and deafening music.

Rafe leaned against the bar in the corner of the room, nursing a drink he hadn't touched in the last hour. His usual cocky smirk was absent, replaced by a scowl that deepened every time someone brushed past him. He told himself he didn't care about Y/N's party, didn't care that she was in the same house, probably doing everything she could to piss him off.

But he was lying to himself, and he knew it.

For days, he'd been ignoring her, hoping distance would dull the fire she sparked in him. He knew his obsession with her was spiraling out of control, consuming him like a predator stalking its prey. But Y/N wasn't just prey—she was a fighter, stubborn and untouchable, and it made the hunt all the more maddening.

Kelce leaned against the bar beside him, talking about something Rafe wasn't listening to. His mind was too preoccupied with the faint sound of Y/N's laugh echoing through the house, the mental image of her smile, the way she always seemed to dance just out of his reach.

"Bro, you need to see this," Topper suddenly said, his voice cutting through Rafe's thoughts.

Rafe turned his head, narrowing his eyes. "What?"

Topper grinned, motioning toward the living room. "Y/N's losing her mind right now. Dancing on a table. You have to see it."

Rafe's jaw tightened, his fingers curling around the red solo cup in his hand. Topper didn't notice, too busy grabbing Kelce and a couple of others to follow him.

"C'mon, man," Topper called over his shoulder.

Rafe hesitated for a split second before downing the rest of his drink and shoving off the bar. His feet carried him toward the living room almost involuntarily, like he was drawn to her by some magnetic force.

When he stepped into the room, the scene in front of him made his blood boil.

Y/N was on top of a table in the center of the room, the crowd around her cheering and chanting her name. The bass-heavy beat of a Weeknd song pulsed through the air as she moved, her body swaying in a way that was both hypnotic and infuriating. Her dress—a tiny black number that clung to her curves and barely grazed her thighs—left little to the imagination. She ran her hands down her body as she dropped low to the beat, the crowd around her cheering and whistling.

Rafe's grip on his drink tightened, the nearly empty plastic cup crumpling slightly under the pressure. He hated this. He hated the way everyone was looking at her, like she was a piece of meat. He hated the way his sister, Sarah, and her Pogue friends were egging her on, cheering her as she danced.

But most of all, he hated the way Y/N's eyes found his in the crowd, her lips curling into a smirk as if she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

"She's so hot," Topper said beside him, nudging Kelce. "Like, insanely hot."

"Shut up," Rafe snapped, his tone sharp enough to make them both flinch.

"What's your problem?" Kelce asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rafe didn't answer. His attention was locked on Y/N, who had leaned down to respond to something JJ said. The way she bent over, laughing and tossing her hair, gave JJ a perfect view of her exposed chest. Rafe saw red.

Without thinking, he shoved his way through the crowd, ignoring the curious stares and whispers that followed him. By the time he reached the table, Y/N was already watching him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Y/N," he barked, his voice cutting through the music. "Get your ass down here. Now."

She tilted her head, pretending not to hear him. "What was that?" she called, cupping her ear mockingly as she continued to dance.

"I said get down," he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Y/N crossed her arms, leaning against the makeshift pole on the table. "No, I don't think I will."

The crowd around them had started to notice the interaction, whispers spreading quickly. Why was Rafe Cameron, of all people, telling Y/N what to do? Everyone knew they hated each other—or at least, they were supposed to.

"Y/N," he growled, his patience wearing thin. "I'm not playing games. Get down."

"And I'm not taking orders," she shot back, her voice dripping with defiance.

The Pogues exchanged glances, their confusion evident. Even Sarah looked unsure, her eyes darting between her brother and her friend.

Rafe had enough. In one swift motion, he grabbed Y/N by the waist and slung her over his shoulder, ignoring her gasp of surprise.

"Rafe, what the hell?!" she shouted, kicking her legs as he pushed through the crowd. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance," he muttered, his grip like steel, holding the minimal fabric of her dress to keep her ass covered from the hungry eyes of partygoers.

The crowd parted as he stormed upstairs, the whispers following them like a shadow. Y/N's protests continued, but deep down, she reveled in the attention. She knew what this was—a game of dominance, one she had no intention of losing.

When they reached her room, Rafe punched in the code to the keypad with practiced ease. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, locking it behind them before setting her down.

Y/N crossed her arms, glaring at him. "What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem?" he shot back, his voice loud and angry. "What the hell was that downstairs?"

"That was me having fun," she retorted, stepping closer to him. "What's it to you?"

"You call that fun? Parading yourself around like a damn stripper?"

"Oh, spare me the lecture, Rafe," she snapped. "You don't own me."

"Don't I?" he countered, his voice low and dangerous.

Her breath hitched, but she didn't back down. "No, you don't. And the fact that you think you do is pathetic."

The tension between them was suffocating, their faces inches apart as they glared at each other.

"You drive me insane," Rafe muttered, his voice thick with frustration.

"Good," she shot back.

Before she could say anything else, his lips crashed against hers, the kiss rough and desperate. She melted into him for a moment before pushing him back.

"This doesn't mean you win," she whispered, her voice breathless.

Rafe smirked, his hands gripping her waist. "Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart."

Rafe used Y/N’s brief moment of weakness to his advantage, and manoeuvred her body towards the large king-sized bed in her room. He gripped her wrists in one of his hands, Y/N instantly struggling in his grip.

"You’re such a fucking brat," Rafe growled, his hands tightening around her wrists as he pinned her to the bed. Y/N's back hit the soft mattress with a soft thud, her chest rising and falling as she glared up at him, her lips swollen from his bruising kiss.

"And you're a possessive asshole," she shot back, her voice sharp despite the way her body betrayed her, arching into his touch. "But you're my possessive asshole."

Rafe's smirk was dark, predatory, as he released her hands. "Damn right I am."

He leaned down, his lips grazing her ear, his voice a low, dangerous purr that sent shivers down her spine. "You think you can keep playing games with me? You think you're in control?" His teeth nipped at her earlobe, and she gasped, her perfectly manicured nails digging into his back.

"I'm always in control," she breathed, but the tremor in her voice gave her away.

Before Rafe could respond, she bucked her hips, using the momentum to flip them over. She straddled him, her hands pressed against his chest, her hair falling in a wild curtain around her face.

"See?" she said, tilting her head with a smirk. "I'm calling the shots here."

Rafe's eyes narrowed, his hands sliding up her thighs, pushing the black fabric of her dress up, gripping her hips with a bruising force. "You keep telling yourself that, princess."

Their lips crashed together again, the kiss fierce and unrelenting. Y/N's hands tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan, while Rafe's fingers dug into her skin, leaving marks that she knew she'd wear like a badge of honour in her designer bikini’s.

They were a mess of tangled limbs and heated breaths, their bodies moving in a desperate rhythm that was as much about dominance as it was about pleasure. Y/N's nails raked down his now bare chest, and Rafe retaliated by flipping her onto her back once more, his lips trailing down her neck, leaving a trail of bites and kisses that made her head spin.

"You're mine," he muttered against her skin, his voice rough with need. "You've always been mine."

"Keep dreaming," she scoffed, but the way her body responded to him—arching into his touch, her legs tightening around his waist—told a whole different story.

Rafe pulled back, his eyes locking with hers. The intensity in his gaze was overwhelming, and for a moment, Y/N felt like she couldn't breathe. "Look at you," he said, his voice low and filled with a raw hunger that made her shiver. "You're a fucking mess for me, and you hate it."

She opened her mouth to retort, but he cut her off with a kiss that left her dizzy. His hands moved to her waist, lifting her effortlessly as he stood, carrying her to the vanity in the corner of the room.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, though her voice lacked its usual bite.

Rafe didn't answer. Instead, he set her down on the edge of the vanity, his hands gripping her hips as he manhandled her body around to face herself in the mirror. "Look at yourself," he ordered, his voice firm.

Y/N hesitated, her eyes flicking to the reflection in front of her. Her hair was disheveled, her lips swollen, her skin flushed, the thin straps of her dress hanging off her shoulders exposing the lace of her bra, the fabric of her dress crumpled up by her hips. She looked... wrecked.

And it was all because of him.

"See?" Rafe's voice was a low growl in her ear, his hands trailing down her sides. "This is what you do to me. This is what I do to you."

She opened her mouth to protest, but the words died on her lips as his hands moved to the back of her thighs, spreading them apart. His lips pressed against the curve of her neck, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that made her gasp. Rafe moved the thin lace fabric of her thong to the side, middle and ring finger running through the wetness in between her thighs, Y/N shuddering as he brushed over her clit.

"You're so fucking beautiful like this. So fucking wet all for me," he muttered, his voice thick with need. "All mine."

Y/N's breath hitched as he positioned himself behind her, his hands deftly undoing his belt then undoing the button and zip on his pants, pulling them down enough to expose his rigid cock. The sheer girth and length of it never failing to surprise Y/N.

Rafe gripped her hips with a possessiveness that made her heart race. "You're such an egomaniac," she managed to say, though her voice was breathless.

Rafe chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against her ear. "And you love it."

Before she could respond, he thrust into her, the sudden fullness making her cry out. Her hands gripped the edge of the vanity, her eyes locking with his in the mirror.

"Keep your eyes open," Rafe ordered, his voice rough. "I want you to see what I do to you."

Y/N's breath came in short gasps as he moved inside her, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through her. She tried to hold his gaze, but the intensity was too much, and she had to look away, her head falling forward as a borderline pornographic moan escaped her lips.

Rafe's hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back up. "I said, keep your fucking eyes open," he growled, his voice filled with a command that she couldn't ignore.

She met his gaze in the mirror, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted as she panted. The sight of him behind her, his eyes dark with desire, his hands gripping her hips with a possessiveness that made her heart race, was almost too much to bear.

"See that?" Rafe muttered, his voice low and filled with a raw hunger that mirrored her own. "That's you. That's what I do to you."

Y/N's nails dug into the edge of the vanity as he thrust into her again, the force of it making her cry out. She could feel herself unraveling, the pleasure building inside her with each harsh thrust Rafe delivered, but she refused to give in, refused to let him have the satisfaction of seeing her fall apart.

"You're such a bastard," she managed to say, though her voice was shaky.

Rafe chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against her ear. "And you're such a brat. But you're my brat."

His hand moved between her legs, his fingers finding her clit, moving in swift circles that made her gasp, and she couldn't hold back any longer. Her body arched into his touch, her eyes locking with his in the mirror as she came undone, her moans filling the room as her pussy clenched around Rafe.

Rafe didn't stop, his movements growing more frantic as he chased his own release. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her back into him with a force that made her gasp. The sounds of slick skin colliding and gasps and moans were the only sound in the room, and Y/N was thankfully for the bass-heavy music that was playing downstairs, meaning nobody could hear them.

"You're mine," he muttered, his voice rough with need. "You've always been mine."

And as he spilled inside her, his lips pressing against her neck in a bruising kiss, Y/N couldn't help but think that maybe—just maybe—he was right.

She is his, and he is hers.

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

i had SO much fun writing this one !! there’s something about writing such a bad bitch character and she reminds me so much of a character from a wattpad fic i wrote a while ago😫

anyways, i hope you enjoy this anon !! and i hope this was what you asked for :) as always, please like and reblog and comment your thoughts !! <3

[wosoloml]

bedroom experiences || alessia russo x reader

summary: its the first time you try something like this with alessia. she loves to be experimental with you

warnings: sexual content, 18+, top!alessia, bottom!reader, strap on, oral recieving, oral giving, alcohol, dirty talk

a/n: i hope you like it - from this request

wc: 1656 | masterlist

The bar buzzed with energy, the bass from the music thrumming through the air as lively conversations created a constant background hum. It had been a while since you last went out to a pub with Alessia and her teammates. Usually, their schedules were tightly packed, so moments like this felt special.

You were grateful to be here, spending time not only with your girlfriend but also with her teammates, who had quickly become her friends during her short time at Arsenal. 

And they become your friends as well. I love spending time with them. 

Alessia wasn’t usually the affectionate type in public, but something about today felt different. As I casually chatted with Kyra, Alessia’s hand rested on my thigh beneath the table, her thumb slowly tracing soft circles over the fabric of my jeans.

The gentle motion made it nearly impossible to focus on the story Kyra was trying to share. To anyone else, this might seem like a perfectly normal display of affection for a couple, but for Alessia, it was significant.

Something was definitely up, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Or maybe she was just a little tipsy. Probably both.

The subtle reminder of her presence, her silent claim on me, sent shivers up my spine. It was maddening, and I did everything I could to play it cool.

After managing to wrap up my conversation with Kyra—barely holding it together—I needed a moment to regain composure. But my focus was entirely on Alessia and her infuriatingly deliberate fingers still resting on my thigh.

Leaning in closer, I whispered something into her ear, my lips grazing the edge of it. I felt her body tense slightly before melting back into calm.

Without hesitation, her hand pressed more firmly against my thigh, her fingers curling just enough to send a clear message: a warning to not push it too far—not here. 

"You are playing with fire, my love," she murmured with her low and teasing voice. Just meant for me. "And?" I replied, my tone playful as I pulled back, meeting her gaze. 

Her pretty blue eyes are filled with little sparks of lust and desire. They promise that the night was only getting started. 

As the night went on, our touches grew bolder and controlled by desire and lust. A subtle brush of my lips against her temple as I lean in to say something or her hand sliding higher on my leg. It was a game—a slow and delicious build of tension that left me wet and weak in my knees. 

When our bodies touched on the dancefloor and my hands reached her upper thigh, I was left speechless. She looked at me with a playfully smirk knowing exactly what my hands sensed in her pants. 

"You’re playing with fire, my love," she murmured, her low, teasing voice meant only for me.

"And?" I replied, my tone equally playful as I pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. Her piercing blue eyes sparkled with something mischievous—a mixture of lust and anticipation that sent a shiver through me. They promised that tonight was far from over.

As the evening wore on, our touches grew bolder, each one more electrifying than the last. A fleeting brush of my lips against her temple as I leaned in to whisper something, her hand sliding higher up my leg under the table. It was a game—a slow, intoxicating build of tension that left me flushed and unsteady on my feet.

On the dance floor, the air around us seemed to thrum with unspoken desire. Our bodies moved together, close enough that every shift, every brush, felt like a spark. My hands found her upper thigh, and as I let them linger, a realization stopped me in my tracks.

She caught my startled expression with a knowing smirk, her eyes practically daring me to say something. She knew exactly what I’d discovered, and her playful grin told me she was reveling in my reaction.

"We should head home" were the only words that left my mouth as the heat between us became almost unbearable. 

Her teammates teased her as she made an excuse for our sudden decision to leave, but she didn't care. 

----

The instant we entered our apartment, she was at me. 

In a heated and passionate kiss, her lips found mine as her hands slipped beneath my shirt, discovering that I was not wearing a bra. She wore a smirk as we kissed and whispered into my mouth, „Naughty little girl teasing me all night without underwear on.“ 

"And you loved every second of it." Her chuckle was soft as she pushed me gently against the wall. "You have no idea how much I’m going to love the next few seconds," she whispered against my lips, her voice dripping with confidence. "You’ll be a whimpering mess for me, baby."

A soft, breathless moan escaped me in response, words failing as the intensity of her gaze and touch rendered me utterly speechless.

Every brush of her fingers sent electric sparks through my body, each one igniting a fire that I couldn’t control. My back arched instinctively, desperate to be closer, to feel more of her.

Alessia’s lips curved into a smug smile against my skin. She thrived on the way I melted under her touch, on the way my body trembled, needy and utterly hers. "So desperate for me," she murmured, her tone laced with satisfaction, "and I’m just getting started."

She guides me into our bedroom, her hands firm yet tender as she pushes me gently to sit on the edge of our bed. My breath hitches as I look up at her, my eyes filled with pure desire and admiration.

In this moment, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of us. I've never felt so vulnerable yet so secure, so completely seen and cherished. There’s an intimacy in her gaze, a quiet 

reassurance that I’m safe in her hands, even as the air between us hums with undeniable tension. 

Her hands toy with the waistband of my pants, her movements slow and deliberate. The look in her eyes is a silent question, seeking permission without uttering a word.

When I nod, giving her the answer she’s waiting for, a soft smile plays on her lips. Her fingers slip beneath the fabric, teasingly brushing against my skin as she begins to slide my pants down, inch by tantalizing inch.

Soft whimpers of her name escape my lips, growing louder with every passing second.

“Use your words, pretty girl,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with teasing authority as her lips press soft kisses along my thighs.

“Touch me, please,” I moan, my eyes fluttering closed as the heat of her breath fans over my skin.

“Right here?” she asks, her lips inching closer to where I need her the most, her voice low and deliberate, sending shivers through my entire body.

“Fuck… Alessia, yes,” I gasp, my voice trembling with desperation, completely at her mercy.

Her tongue finally reached my throbbing, heated core. “You taste so sweet, babygirl,” she says, licking all my arousal and sucking on my clit. My hands seize her hair, as she feels incredible.

I can't handle it anymore. 

My walls start to tremble around her tongue inside of me. 

-----

"You are sure you want this?" Alessia asked, her voice now intimate. 

I nodded with a soft smile. "I want this; I want it."

We are both naked on the bed after Alessia fucked me so good with her mouth and hands to prepare me for the point that I was excited the whole time. 

She pushed down her pants, exposing the big strap-on you sensed earlier between her legs on the dancefloor. We have talked about this. She was way more experienced, but I'm ready to do it with her now. 

Even though I had seen it before, seeing Alessia wearing it made my stomach flutter. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

Alessia climbed onto the bed, her body moving with a natural grace that left me breathless. She settled between my legs, her hands resting on my thighs. She leaned forward to press her lips on mine, lingering in the kiss. 

Her hands slid up my sides, pushing my shirt up and over my head. Her mouth and lips found my nipples and played with them. „Alessia…“ 

She knows exactly how to make a girl needy. 

„Pss, Babygirl, I take care of you.“ „Lie back“, she murmured, her voice thick with desire. 

She positioned herself carefully as she pressed the tip of the strap against my entrance. The sensation was unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. I let out a soft moan as she pushed forward slightly. Her eyes were checking on me, but I made sure that she knew how much I enjoyed it. 

Her name rolls off my lips in pornographic sounds. Alessia moved slowly, giving me the time I needed to adjust with every inch. When she was fully inside me, she let out a soft moan.The way she stretches me out feels so good. I could get used to it.

She began to move then. At first her movements were slow and deliberate, but as she noticed how good my walls felt around her strap, she finally started to go faster and harder. "Alessia—" I gasped, my voice breaking when she hit a particularly sensitive spot. 

"You feel incredible," she whispered, her voice husky with desire. 

My breaths came faster, my body arching into Lessi as I felt myself reaching the edge. Alessia seemed to sense it, her hand slipping between our bodies to circle my clit in time with her deep thrusts. 

The combined stimulation and the way she moaned my name overwhelmed me, and I cried out her name as I came around her strap inside of me. 

Lessi held me, her own breath ragged as she rode out your orgasm, pressing soft kisses to my forehead. 

"Was that okay? She asked after a while, her voice soft but filled with concern. 

"It was perfect.". 

[thesiltverses]

A very big thank you

I posted this on Patreon, but really wanted to share it here as well:

Post-show life begins

For a long while now I’ve been getting up at 4.30 or 5am, grabbing myself the first coffee of four, and then coming to sit at my desk.

I open up the assembly cut of the newest TSV episode.

I listen to it, I try and pin down which scenes I need to be going back over today. I try and push through the entire morning without a break because when the momentum stalls, that’s what kills your release schedule. (I also worry endlessly about just how much of my hair is falling out, and how spending 12 hours a day wearing headphones could be contributing to that.)

Today was different. I still woke up early - it’s a hard habit to shake off, and probably a useful one going forward. But I didn’t go to my desk, and I didn’t put my headphones on.

I went to the rocking chair we bought for our son when he comes, and I sat there - gently swaying and trying not to spill my coffee all over it, because for some reason it’s fucking beige - and looked out over the city skyline. 

I slugged back my coffee surrounded by all the stuff we’ve panic-bought for the baby, and I got to take all of it in - washcloths and the changing table and romper suits - with a sudden focus and a clarity and a rising excitement that I really hadn’t allowed myself to feel until today, because until today the work was still unfinished and there was still much left to be done.

All at once I felt very free, and fully sated, and happy and proud for everything that’s coming next.

There’s so much to feel grateful for from the past three years of working on this show. But what’s probably going to sit with me the most is being able to arrive at that moment and those feelings today, - and we have all of you incredible people to thank for that.

Not just in terms of listenership or financial support, although that’s been truly invaluable and a lifeline for us that’s enabled us to actually make the show - but also your enthusiasm, your passion, your jokes and comments and everything that’s helped to keep us motivated and working on it.

So - with as much feeling as words can convey, thank you so, so much for everything.

What’s coming next, in rough order

#1: Parentdom is going to take over our lives for a while! I also want to write the final Patreon episode commentaries in the next few days, while I have the time and the clear memories. #2: The next thing we’ll organise will be the post-season Q&A (we’d also like to do some kind of off-camera cast party if we can make schedules work, just to say thank you to our amazing VAs and celebrate with them). Please do ask us questions! #3: We have long-unfinished commitments to the Patreon which I need to complete: the last two episodes of So Long, Good Luck, and rounding off Sid Wright’s story. As ever, huge thank-yous for your patience with these; they’ve just been impossible to polish off while also working on the main show so much. #4: Something I’ve been thinking about for a long time is the possibility of going back to Season 1 and redesigning it from scratch to try and bring it closer in style to S2 and S3. We have the raw audio files - some of the mic quality will just be rough no matter what, but we can certainly try.  This is something I want to be conscientious and careful about; I very much want to respect the sound design work that’s already taken place, and ensure we’re not overriding anything. But I do know that the initial quality still sometimes puts new listeners off; we were learning a lot about direction and mastering from scratch, and our designers were working with limited budget and a total lack of plugins, so there’s simply a lot more we can achieve now. (This would also be a good opportunity for me to finally rework the transcripts, another fallen hurdle). #5: A few months back, we were contacted by a literary agent in NYC who was interested in us adapting the show into a series of novels. There’s a long road ahead to actually get published, but I'm thrilled to say that I have signed with them and I’m really excited to hopefully start work on the first book once I’ve settled into dad-dom. I’ll need to check what’s possible, but if it doesn’t interfere with any contract condition I’d obviously love to share excerpts on here as it’s written. #6: Then there’ll also be another larger audiodrama project - we’ve spoken about the different possibilities before! Excited to get started on our final choice.

Just one last word about endings

God, endings are scary. Because endings are impossible.

How many serialised stories actually end in a way that’s received unequivocally well?  People yelled at The Sopranos for its ambiguity and open-endedness. People criticised Breaking Bad for treating Walt too sympathetically at the end and relying on a generic mob of snarling Nazis to act as his final foe.

Endings are either too pat and neat, or too inconclusive to be satisfying, or too surreal and dreamlike, or they simply make what feels like the wrong choices for the characters we care about. We’re all caught in that barbed wire, creators and audience alike, weighed down by the baggage of what’s come before and we've already spent so much time anticipating the infinite possibilities of how it could all turn out - it’s like we can’t get free of the story that’s trying to end. 

And the beautiful thing about these longform, iterative works is that they insist upon becoming completely ungovernable. No matter how much of a planner the creator claims to be, how much prepwork they carry out - they were never really in control. There’s spontaneity and surprises and dead ends and beautiful distractions that come spilling out along the way (I was baffled and delighted to learn that people really - at the end of the show, with such limited time to spare - wanted to find out what had happened to Eddie*). 

So they can’t end. Not really. There’s too much wonderful mess in them to ever be reasonably disentangled.

And, of course, for every ending people remember with frustration or dissatisfaction, there’s another hundred endings that nobody remembers at all, because we lost our enthusiasm along the way and it feels better to keep going back to the start and avoiding the slow decline. (Who the fuck remembers how the umpteenth X-Files reboot ended? What increasingly tired post-modern antics was Alan Moore getting up to in the final League of Extraordinary Gentlemen books?). I really just didn’t want the show to end up in that latter category.

All of that probably sounds like I’m warding off criticism about the show's ending, but for me it’s actually been the opposite. 

For an ending which is all about narrative dissatisfaction, and failed potential and missed opportunities, and how we need to come to terms with the lack of existential fairness and certainty and narrative control in our lives and keep ploughing forward all the same for as long as we possibly can, I’m massively stunned at just how positive the reception has been on here and elsewhere, and that’s something I’m actively having to process, because I think I was fearfully anticipating much more pushback.

But, look - the Eskew finale was originally quite poorly-received and then people came back around to it over time. So I’m not going to pat myself on the back too hard, because maybe it’ll ultimately be the opposite with this show, and that’s OK. For 200 years everyone was convinced King Lear was improved by having everyone survive at the end and get married. Endings take time to settle into their final condition.

For now, I am incredibly relieved that the ending we chose seems to have landed for most people, and I’m incredibly grateful for the lovely messages we’ve got about it and for the trust in us that you’ve all shown throughout the story.

So, yeah, let’s end with another thank you, because that’s what I feel so deeply and so forcefully at this point.

Thank you so much again, and speak soon.

Jon

*My take? We’ve established that the guy is in some kind of blue-collar job and has been pushed into constant overtime due to the reduced workforce. We’ve seen that the so-called ‘national holiday’ doesn’t actually rescue workers from their commitments. So I personally imagine that Eddie was working during the parade somewhere on the city outskirts, and is alive and well.

[nameless-jamie]

YOU'RE LATE, IDIOT

Glimpse Into the Future - Jamie Tartt x fem!PA reader

Masterlist

TW: cursing, kissing, emotions, childbirth

Jamie Tartt was fucking furious.

The second his number went up on the board, signaling his substitution, his blood boiled. He had just found his rhythm, the game was still wide open, and suddenly he was being benched?

For what? A tactical change? Bullshit.

He stormed off the pitch, barely acknowledging the applause from the crowd. His eyes locked on Roy Kent, who stood by the dugout, arms crossed, face unreadable.

Jamie ripped off his sweat-soaked jersey as he approached. “What the fuck is this, Roy?” he snapped. “I ain’t injured, I ain’t tired, I—”

“Shut up,” Roy interrupted, voice firm but oddly… expectant. “Get your arse to the hospital.”

Jamie blinked. “What?”

Roy exhaled sharply, stepping closer, his expression almost gentle. “Y/N’s in labour, dickhead.”

Everything stopped.

Jamie’s ears rang. His heartbeat pounded. He swore the world tilted beneath him.

“What—now?” His voice came out hoarse.

Roy nodded. “Her water broke before the match. She told us not to tell you ‘cause she didn’t wanna mess with your focus, but it’s happening. You’re about to be a dad, mate.”

Jamie’s breath hitched.

He should’ve been worried, should’ve been panicking, but all he could think was—

She’s having our baby. Right now. Without me.

His feet moved before his brain caught up. “Car. Now. I need a car.”

Before he could bolt, Will grabbed him by the shoulders. “Wait, Jamie, mate—you’re still in your kit—”

“Don’t give a fuck,” Jamie blurted, already pushing past him.

Roy whistled. “Oi, someone drive his dramatic arse before he sprints there himself.”

“I got it,” Coach Beard said, already heading toward the parking lot. “Let’s go, Tartt.”

Jamie barely heard him. His head was spinning, his body running on pure adrenaline.

As he rushed past the rest of the team, Dani called out, “Tell her we love her!”

“Tell the baby we say hi!” Sam added.

Jamie waved vaguely, not slowing down.

He had one job now.

Get to her. Now.

Jamie nearly tripped over his own feet as he burst into the hospital room, his heart hammering in his chest.

Y/N was propped up in bed, looking exhausted but radiant, her hair messy, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with relief the second she saw him.

And in her arms—

Jamie froze.

Everything else disappeared.

The tiny bundle against her chest shifted, a small hand peeking out from the blanket.

His baby.

Their baby.

Jamie swallowed hard. “Oh, fuck.”

Y/N let out a breathy laugh. “Nice entrance, Tartt. That's the first thing your baby's going to hear from you.”

Jamie stumbled toward her, his hands shaking. “I—I wasn’t—Roy pulled me from the match—”

“I know.” She smirked, though her eyes were glassy. “I told them not to tell you until after, but apparently Roy doesn’t listen to me.”

Jamie huffed out a disbelieving laugh, running a trembling hand through his sweat-damp hair. “You—you did all this without me?”

Y/N softened. “Barely. He came fast.”

He.

Jamie’s breath hitched. “We—we had a boy?”

Y/N nodded, shifting slightly to reveal the tiny, pink-faced baby nestled against her.

Jamie just… stared.

“I—can I—?” He couldn’t finish the sentence, too overwhelmed, too in awe.

Y/N smiled. “Of course, Jamie.”

Carefully, she shifted the baby into his arms, guiding his hands until he was cradling their son against his chest.

Jamie Tartt, Premier League footballer, man who had scored impossible goals under unimaginable pressure—

Had never been this scared in his life.

But then—

The baby yawned, his tiny fingers twitching against his skin, and just like that—

Jamie melted.

“Oh, fuck, he’s so small,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/N let out a tired laugh. “That tends to happen with newborns.”

Jamie ignored her, completely enraptured. “He’s perfect.”

His son squirmed, making a tiny noise, and Jamie’s heart cracked wide open.

He bent his head, pressing the gentlest kiss to his forehead. “Hey, baby. I’m your dad.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, watching the scene with watery eyes. “He already loves you, you know.”

Jamie scoffed, but his throat was tight. “Yeah, well. I love him more.”

Y/N smiled, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “You’re gonna be a great dad, Jamie.”

Jamie looked at her, his best friend, the love of his life, the mother of his child—

And he knew, without a doubt, that he would spend the rest of his life proving her right.

The next day, Jamie had barely gotten Y/N and the baby settled when the entire fucking team stormed into the hospital.

Dani, Sam, Colin, Isaac—everyone was there. Even Roy had shown up, grumbling about how he “didn’t give a shit about babies” but still sticking around.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You lot are ridiculous.”

Isaac folded his arms, feigning offense. "You really thought you could pop out a baby and we wouldn’t show up? Come on, love, we’re family."

Y/N huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. "You are ridiculous."

Jamie, who was still holding their son like he was the most precious thing in the world, grinned. "She’s right, y’know. Bunch of dramatic pricks."

That earned him a round of Oi's! and Fuck off, Tartt's!, but he was too busy looking down at his baby boy to care.

Dani leaned in, beaming. "Oh my goodness, he is so beautiful."

Sam placed a gentle hand over his heart. "He looks just like you, Y/N."

Jamie scowled. "Oi, what’s that supposed to mean? You sayin’ my kid ain’t got my genes? That's my boy!"

Y/N smirked. "They’re saying he’s cute, Jamie. Unlike someone when they’re pouting."

The boys burst into laughter as Jamie groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. "Unbelievable."

Roy's gruff voice cut through the noise of the team. All of them were just arguing about who gets to hold Baby Tartt first, and the entire room went still.

Jamie blinked. "Wait—what?"

Roy sighed heavily, looking deeply inconvenienced as he held out his hands. "I said give me the kid, Tartt."

Silence.

Everyone stared.

Jamie hesitated. "You wanna hold him?"

"Do I look like I wanna hold him?" Roy grumbled. "No. But if I don’t, you lot will keep looking at me like I’m some heartless bastard. So pass him here before I change my mind. I'm his godfather after all."

Jamie exchanged a glance with Y/N, who was barely holding back a smirk.

"Alright," Jamie murmured, carefully placing the baby in Roy’s massive hands. "But you drop my baby, mate, I’m legally allowed to kill you."

Roy snorted. "Shut up, Tartt."

And then—

The impossible happened.

Roy Kent—grumpy, growling, perpetually pissed-off Roy Kent—looked down at the tiny, squirming baby in his arms… and his face softened.

Like actually softened.

Like genuinely softened.

"Well," he muttered, adjusting his hold. "He’s alright, I s’pose."

Isaac gasped. "Did Roy Kent just—"compliment"—a baby? Jamie Tartt's baby even."

"I heard it too," Jan said. "Mark this day in history."

Even Ted, who had FaceTimed in to see the baby, grinned. "Well, shoot, Roy. Didn't know you had it in ya. Big ole' softy."

Roy grumbled something about everyone shutting the fuck up, but the way he looked at the baby—like he was something worth protecting—didn’t go unnoticed.

Jamie sat beside Y/N, wrapping an arm around her as they watched Roy, Dani, and Sam argue over who got to hold the baby next.

"See?" Y/N whispered. "Told you they’d all love him."

Jamie exhaled softly, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of her head.

"Yeah," he murmured. "But they don’t love him more than I do."

Y/N smiled. "Obviously. You’re his dad."

Jamie grinned, looking down at the tiny baby who had already stolen his entire heart.

"Damn right I am."

[thequeenofcurses]

His Weakness

summary: they said he had no weaknesses -- until he met you. homelander x gender neutral reader. wk: 1.6k fluff

They said he had no weaknesses.

He's impossibly fast. Inhumanly strong. He could fly, hear a whisper from miles away, and see through walls. A tall, charming, ocean-eyed blond with a smile that could disarm even the most guarded heart. His laugh had the power to shift your entire mood, and when he looked at you, —really looked at you—it made you forget how dangerous he truly was. Seeing him stare back into your eyes made your heart melt

Your relationship was anything but conventional.

For one, Stillwell would never allow it. You had the aching suspicion she wanted him for herself. And if she didn’t, she certainly wanted to own him. Secondly, as he often reminded you, “Your safety comes first.” Homelander had enemies, the kind that would tear through anything to get to him, including you.

"But you went public with Maeve!" you had protested once.

"No offense, honey, but Maeve is a Supe." His tone was light, but his meaning was clear. You wouldn’t last a second in my world.

"Besides, that was all for PR. Just something Madelyn wanted. It was good press for a while." He had laughed then, like it was all some inside joke.

You had pouted, but in the end, he was right. Queen Maeve was bulletproof. She could break bones and snap necks. You? You were human.

And humans break.

You never thought you'd meet him at all, let alone like this.

Thick black smoke coiled around you, stinging your eyes and burning your throat. Fire roared through the apartment, devouring everything in its path. The screams of trapped neighbors were muffled beneath the crackling wood and the suffocating heat. You prayed for the fire department, for someone, anyone, to come. But with every passing second, survival felt more like a fantasy.

You lived on the fifth floor. There was no safe way out.

No way except the easy way.

But you weren’t alone.

"Amy! Sarah!" Your sister and her baby were still trapped down the hall. The thought of them burned hotter than the flames. You may not be a supe, but you don’t necessarily need powers to save anyone. Wrapping yourself in a blanket, you forced yourself forward.

Then– 

CRASH!

The window shattered, shards of glass sucked into the inferno like it was gasping for air. Wind rushed in, and suddenly, the fire bent backward, drawn toward the open space.

You were squinting and coughing, trying to breathe through the smoke. You could make out red boots and what seemed to be a red and white cape. 

A figure hovered in the smoke. Red boots. White cape? The gleam of a golden emblem against the flickering light.

“H-homelander?” you coughed.

He floated closer, his expression unreadable. "Ma'am, this place is about to blow. I’m getting you out of here."

"No!" The protest ripped from your lungs. "I won’t leave my family!" You bolted before he could grab you, pushing through the suffocating heat, blindly navigating through memory alone.

Homelander didn't follow immediately. Maybe it was surprise. Maybe amusement. But then he was right behind you, moving with effortless ease, as if the fire meant nothing.

Your sister's cries cut through the chaos.

"Help! I have a baby!"

"Hold on!" you shouted, voice raw from smoke.

“‘aam, let me– , help y– ,” you thought you heard from behind you. Focused, you kept pushing forward. You weren’t leaving here without your family. If they died, then you might as well be dead too. They were all you had.

“Please, help!!” you could hear your sister crying. “Please!! I have a baby with me!” You crawled faster toward the voices, ignoring the burning smoke in your eyes.

You finally arrived at their door. The door was weak. You kicked until the frame cracked, wood splintering beneath your heel. Inside, your sister Amy clutched Sarah to her chest, both of them shaking. You hastily crawl over to their location in the corner

"Thank God, you two are okay," you whispered, wrapping them in your blanket. “Here take this.”

A hand gripped your arm, pulling you upright.

"Look, lady–"

You wrenched away from Homelander. "Them first."

For a split second, something flickered in his expression, mild irritation, maybe even amusement or disgust, but then he smiled. The kind of smile he wore on TV. The charming, empty kind. 

“Alright, everything’s going to be okay.” He scooped up your sister and niece, bundling them securely before vanishing in a gust of wind. The fire hissed in protest.

Homelander was fast but fast enough to save you too? You weren’t so sure.

You exhaled, relieved, just as the ceiling gave a sickening crack.

CRASH

A section of the roof collapsed, blocking your only exit. Smoke thickened. The air was vanishing.

"At least they're safe," you murmured. You slid down against the wall closing your eyes, letting exhaustion take hold. Your tears sizzled against your overheated skin. You were beginning to accept your fate. 

Crackle, crackle.

The ceiling was starting to give in. 

“Ma’am, you’re stubborn, you know that?” you heard a hard laugh from above. 

You forced your eyes open. Homelander hovered inches from you, arms folded. He was calm, as if this wasn’t a life-or-death moment, as if you weren’t seconds from burning alive.

He extended a hand.

“You coming, or what?”

Every part of you hesitated. Maybe this was it. Maybe it was fate. You weren’t special. You were just an aspiring writer with nothing to lose. You saved your sister. The pretty one, so she could raise her daughter

No, fuck that! You’re a fighter — a survivor. You have millions of stories to tell, this being one of them, and you’re damned sure you won’t be taken out this way. 

You reached up and grabbed him.

Before you could blink, you were outside. Cold air rushed against your skin, and for the first time in what felt like hours, you could breathe.

“Sorry, if you’re a little discombobulated or nauseous,” Homelander apologized, setting you on the pavement. “Had to move fast.” 

You barely heard him. Your eyes darted across the crowd until– 

"Amy! Sarah!"

They were safe. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were still holding.

You coughed and coughed as you ran toward them, not stopping until you embraced them in a hug. 

“I’m so glad you two are safe,” you cried. 

You made sure the medics had finished treating Amy and Sarah before tending to you. Surprisingly enough, besides a mild case of bronchitis, you were totally fine. 

The residents of your building started to head to the nearby shelter. You stayed behind, looking at your once but now blackened home. 

You assumed after everyone was safe, The Seven would’ve returned to Vought. 

You couldn’t be more wrong. 

"Y’know, stubbornness is a real character flaw." You didn’t have to turn around to know that voice. Homelander. 

You turned to face your savior. “Lucky for me,” you stated matter-of-factly. "I don’t care.”

Homelander chuckled, but his next words were firm. "What you did was stupid. You could’ve died."

“They’re the only family I have,” you shrugged. “I had to make sure they were safe.” You waved off the fact that you were once again talking back to the tremendous almighty Homelander.

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. Like he was studying something rare. Something he didn’t quite understand.

He smirked. “How can a human be so reckless?” 

You smiled faintly. It was rhetorical, but you couldn’t help responding, “when you love someone, you’re willing to do anything for them.'' 

His expression shifted, something unreadable flashing across his face. Love.

“Huh.” And then, just like that, he was gone.

You met back up with your sister at the shelter. Women took most of the beds with children. You happily accepted a mat on the floor right by your sister’s bed.

You never forgot him after that night.

Of course, he probably saved hundreds of lives a day. But with you, it felt different.

Your new apartment had a balcony. You never locked the window doors. Not because you felt safe, but because, if he ever decided to come back, you wanted him to have a way in.

And sometimes, he did.

On quiet nights, he’d fly down, pulling you into his arms before sweeping you over the city. Sometimes, he’d go too fast, and you’d have to remind him: “slow down, please”. 

He’d always apologize, murmuring, “got caught up in the moment, sweetheart.”

And then one night, as you touched down on the balcony, he said:

“Fuck it.”

“Hmm?”

“Fuck the press. Fuck Stillwell. Fuck all of it.” His blue eyes burned as they locked onto yours. “I want to take you out. A real date. No more hiding. And not at some abandoned, empty place. I want everyone to see you. See us.”

You were speechless. You always wanted this but never imagined it would ever happen. “B-But Stillwell won’t be happy,” you stuttered out.

“I don’t care about her happiness. Or Vought’s.” His fingers curled under your chin, tilting your face up. "Only yours."

Your heart slammed against your ribs. "Why?"

A smirk tugged at his lips.

“Because,” he murmured, “when you love someone, you’re willing to do anything for them.”

And then he kissed you.

And this time, you didn’t hesitate.

You were still baffled that this was happening but smiled through it. “The annual Vought party is tomorrow night,” he reminded you. With one more kiss, then another and another, he told you his goodbye.  “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

A/N Wrote this originally in 2020 and just rewrote it this year (2025). It was kinda cringe reading my old writing, but I am happy because I can see how I have improved!

masterlist | the boys masterlist

[angelbaby191]

Unbreakable Challenge

Kirishima x Reader

Eijiro Kirishima had one goal: to make you blush.

He’d admired you from afar for a while now. It was impossible not to notice how calm and composed you were in every situation. Missions, exams, social events—you handled them all with an unbreakable confidence that captivated him. But with that admiration came a curiosity that nagged at him: could he get under that cool exterior? Could he make your calm demeanor waver, even just once?

And so, Kirishima took it as a personal mission. Each day, he tried something different to see if he could throw you off.

Day one started with a simple, confident approach. He leaned against the wall as you entered the training room, hoping to catch you off guard.

“Looking good today, as usual,” he said, his voice low, adding a charming grin for good measure.

You glanced at him with that same calm smile he’d grown used to. “Thanks, Kirishima,” you replied, brushing past him without a second glance as you went to start your warm-up routine. The coolness in your voice, unflustered and unaffected, only fueled his determination.

Over the next few days, he tried everything he could think of. Compliments, gentle teasing, lingering touches. During training, he’d reach out to fix the collar of your uniform or brush his hand over your shoulder. Every time, you’d look at him with that steady gaze and a faint, knowing smile, almost as if you could see right through his attempts.

Day three arrived, and Kirishima was determined to step up his game. He’d thought up a new plan that involved a mix of charm and proximity.

The two of you were in the weight room, and he walked up just as you began lifting a set of weights. The sight of your form, calm and poised as you focused on each movement, sent a thrill through him, but he pushed it aside. He was on a mission.

“Need a spotter?” he offered, his voice coming out lower than he intended as he leaned in close, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from you.

You didn’t even miss a beat, flashing him a polite smile. “Sure,” you replied, setting the weights back with perfect control and giving him a brief nod. If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought you were amused.

Undeterred, he settled beside you, watching carefully. He could feel the tension in his own breathing, the heat creeping up his neck as he watched you. But you were as composed as ever, your eyes focused ahead, no trace of distraction or nervousness.

After a few minutes, you finished the set, stood up, and looked at him with that same calm, unreadable expression. Kirishima almost expected you to say something, but you simply gave him a brief nod and walked off.

By day five, he was nearly ready to give up. Nothing he’d tried had worked. It seemed like you were impenetrable.

But that day, as he arrived at class, he spotted you waiting by the door. There was a look in your eye, a glint of something he hadn’t seen before—a touch of mischief? Before he could figure it out, you stepped in close, and he felt his heart skip a beat.

“Hey, Kirishima,” you greeted, voice softer than usual, and before he knew it, you’d reached up, placing a hand gently on his arm.

“Y-Yeah?” he managed to stammer, suddenly aware of how close you were. Your fingers trailed along his forearm, featherlight but enough to set every nerve in his body on fire.

“I think it’s cute, you know,” you said, your gaze dropping to where your hand rested on his arm. “All your little attempts to fluster me.”

He swallowed, his throat dry. “I—uh…”

Your fingers moved up, tracing along his shoulder before stopping at his collarbone, where you brushed his skin with your thumb, deliberate and slow. “You’re so obvious about it, too,” you continued, voice barely above a whisper as you leaned closer, your face mere inches from his. “But I have to admit… it’s kind of sweet.”

Kirishima’s heart raced, a heat he hadn’t expected flooding his cheeks. The tables had turned completely, and the worst part was he knew you could see right through him. He felt trapped, but in a way that was exhilarating.

Then, as if to seal your victory, you brushed your lips just beside his cheek, lingering close enough that he could feel the warmth of your breath against his skin. His heart thundered in his chest, his thoughts a mess as he struggled to find something—anything—to say, but you were already pulling back, giving him a satisfied smile.

“You know,” you murmured, looking up at him with that calm, unbreakable gaze, “you’re even cuter when you’re the one blushing.”

Kirishima’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again. He was at a complete loss for words, his face hot and his pulse racing. And as you turned and walked into class, casting him one last, knowing glance over your shoulder, he knew one thing for certain: he’d never look at you the same way again.

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

Motion!!

Sukuna x f!reader

Synopsis- Sukuna has his way with women, feigning them on before ultimately flipping on them with another woman. He thought he would do the same to you. Nah.

cw: Sukuna is a warning in himself, No sorcerer au, toxic y/n (we love) minimal dialogue, boxer!Sukuna mentioned, cheating (multiple), alcohol, quick paced, hookups, multiple positions, tit slapping, licking, oral sex, nudes, spanking, hair pulling, toxic relationship, ooc Sukuna

“I-I got my hands on my toes lookin’ for the hoes….if I get in this tequila anything goes”

Sukuna had just gotten out the boxing ring securing another undefeated win before his latest fling came up and bitch slapped him, throwing all the expensive gifts he gave her at him scratching up his pretty face. Can’t say he didn’t deserve it. He did sleep with her sister…..and best friend. But that or some other ending was inevitable. He was like this with all his women, they were a means to an end to him, something to fuck and play with. So it didn’t matter if that one left him he would just get a new one.

So he found himself at a party, a quite packed party. He should have known Gojo and Geto were in the most popular band on this side of the world; and god did they know how to throw a party. He nursed a glass of bourbon watching over the crowd to find the one. Then the girl who sucked his dick before walking inside passed him smiling at him, he grimaced he wished that people wouldn’t be so obvious about sexual encounters he didn’t even remember her name. Then he found it, found her.

A little minx in a tight black dress that did little to hide anything, your dark skin illuminated under the strobing party lights as bottle girls poured shot after shot of tequila down your throat, everyone was watching you, devouring you with their eyes.

You commanded attention in any room you walked in he could tell, you were just like him.

And his predatory gaze locked onto you, getting closer throughout the night, stealing glances from you here and there.

You were louder than the rest of your friend group giggling about leaving your ex or something he didn’t really care about, all he cared about was catching his prey.

You attracted people, men and women alike, surrounded you, giving you every bit of their attention and energy. It wasn’t a while till the spectators dissipated to their own carnal desires, that the hunt was one but who was hunting who?

The pink haired man with tattoos that covered his body, from what you could see of his body, and his body was amazing. He was well toned, muscles threatening the hem of the black shirt he adored and he filled out his black pants nicely. He had been watching you all night, he had a familiar look in his eyes, he was on the hunt; for you? He was perfect.

It was as if everything went in slow motion, you locked eyes on him beckoning him closer as you began to walk through the crowd. He followed pushing through. The flashing strobe lights made it hard to keep track but he never lost you. He followed you to a small room expecting to find you but he just found a small bed in a dark red room. The door slammed behind him and he turned to see you. Before he could say anything you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt locking your lips with him.

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

Sukuna had no idea how he ended up on his back you and him didn’t even exchange names before you were exchanging spit. Ripping each others clothes off, he had you on your back tearing a condom open with his teeth. Sinking into you he let out a guttural groan, you felt so good. His strokes were mild to begin with but you became bored. You raised your hips bucking faster and harder, digging your nails into the males tattooed chest needing more.

Sukuna got impossibly hard looking at you fucking yourself on his cock. You were intoxicating, his strokes turned wild and hard. The room filled with sinful music of your skin slapping and the mixture moans and groans. Your arms wrapped around his neck yanking him closer to you licking his face tattoo, making his thrust falter wrapping your legs around him; you flip the muscular male onto his back.

In the dark lighting of the small room you couldn’t see the small flush of pink that was brought to the man’s cheeks at your sudden show of dominance. You rode the man like there was no tomorrow, Sukuna could swear he could see stars the way your hips wined up and down at a reckless pace.

You had worked up a sweat for the both of you. A sheer coat of it covers both of your body’s. You were so close, grabbing his hand you guided it to your clit helping his circle the little bud before he took over rushing over it with his rough calloused fingers bringing you to the edge, his other hand held your breast playing with the hardened nipple before slapping it; you let out a dangerous moan as pleasure surges through you. Sharp nails dig into his shoulders to be sure you would leave marks in the morning.

Your hips bucked wildly as you came, your pussy spasming around his girth and he couldn’t hold it as you became impossibly tight around him he burst inside of you. Long spurts of milky white cum flowing into the condom. Settling down you catch your breath before slipping off of him, a hiss coming from both you and him. Licking his lips Sukuna watched as you got up your beautiful naked body on full display for him as you slipped your dress back on, no panties. Before leaving you turned back and handed him a small note, “In case you ever wanna do that again.” You wink before closing the door leaving him on the bed naked, discombobulated, and hard as fuck.

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

Sukuna had never experienced a woman like you. You were so alive, wild, and god the sex. Your mouth was sent from heaven sucking him nice and filthy. Spit dripping down your chin as you suck his heavy balls till he cums all over your face. When he wasn’t stuffing your mouth full though you had a mouth on you.

Handing you a 14k gold bracelet embedded with natural diamonds after you just finished him off he closed his eyes waiting for the giggling praise, but was met with a mere scoff before he felt a thump to his tatted chest. You threw the bracelet back at him, “If you think that’s worth this,” you tighten your bathrobe around your body, “you got another thing coming.” You say genuinely offended before storming off to the bathroom leaving him alone, irritated and a little horny. You both knew that you could afford all the things he gets you but like you would say, it’s the principle. What was he gonna do with you.

Not even two months in he had you moved in, fucking you any and every where, you were never not seen together. At his boxing matches, at clubs, v.i..p parties. And when he would take you to the club he didn’t expect you to be so raunchy, it did something to him to see a woman so open, so sexy. God he wanted to fuck you stupid. He didn’t even notice since he met you he never looked at another woman. It was as if you had him hypnotized.

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

“What the fuck is this?” Sukuna was angry, pissed even. Pictures of you being lewd with others and so many messages. You stood in front of a mirror wearing the very dress you met the man in, putting your lip gloss on before even looking and smiling. “Well what’s it look like?” You say walking over to the couch grabbing your purse, Sukuna was practically speechless, any other woman he messed with he wouldn’t have cared, he didn’t know what made his gut flip seeing these photos. “You just gonna act like there ain’t pictures of you fucking on other people expect me not to react.” You sigh, turning back to the male. “If you didn’t want your feelings hurt, you shouldn’t have went through it.” You say simply before giving him a kiss and walking out the door.

You knew men like Sukuna he would use you up and toss you aside if you let him. You just got to get on the same low, down dirty level he’s on and show him who’s boss. He’ll stay with you because he sees himself in you, he’s so obsessed with himself. It’s kinda hot.

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

Sukuna tried to go to other women, flip on you like he did every other women; but none of them could compete with you, your looks, your taste, your smell. He couldn’t get enough of you, but the same could be said for everyone else. He felt sick watching you post yourself on your story but he remembered who you came home to. But his blood boiled at the thought of someone else touching you, tasting you having you. He hated it.

Muffled moans are barely audible above focused thrust, his balls smacking your arousal soaked thighs creating vulgar noises. Your face smushed into $1000 sheets; sheets soaked in liquids that would be impossible to explain to the cleaning lady. But he would think about that later right now all he could think about was your sweet pussy sucking him in ever so tight.

With every harsh concentrated thrust your warm velvet walls tightened around him. He tried to hold his incoming climax, his hips going at an untamed speed. Every vein on his thick cock pulsating inside you wanting, needing to fill you up to the brim. His hands grabbed the globes of your ass massaging the fat before slapping it watching the recoile. He grabbed the roots of your hair pulling as he fucked you mercilessly.It was what you deserved, what you needed.

But the world went quiet when he felt you cum your whole body shaking as if a volcano ruptured. Your tight cunt held him with such disdain knowing that your pussy was the closest thing to heaven on earth and to lose you would send him into a psychotic break and knowing he can’t be the only one to satisfy you. Rutting into you before emptying his load inside your used cunny. Cum ran down your thighs as he pulled out of you. He thumped down onto the bed finally lifting your head, mascara ran down your face and lipstick was smeared all over your used puffy lips.

Sukuna had grabbed something from his side of the bed handing it to you, it was a blue sapphire butterfly necklace. Smiling up at the man you sit up still naked, “How much?” You gleam.

He smiles at your quip, he takes it from you unclasping it, you instinctively turn around. “$15,000…” He puts it on kissing your neck, casting goosebumps down your back. Your eyes had an unusual spark in them when he told you the price. He had your phone, his hand groping your marked up tits kissing your neck showing your new necklace off. “What are you doing?” You ask, making him smile against your skin. “What’s it look like?” He mumbles into your ear. “Say cheese.” He quickly snapped a picture before getting up, dropping the phone in your lap. You smile biting your lip seeing he deleted all your other photos leaving it to be only him.

But it was just a matter of time before you went out again, didn’t answer his calls,leaving him for days on end. But at the end of the day you always came back to him.

Never in his life did Sukuna think he would be sitting at home going crazy over a woman but here he was.

He finally got a taste of his own medicine.

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

A/N- this could have been wayyyy better but I haven’t written anything in a hooot minute so that probs the reason and this is my first time writing for jjk so yay!!!! I’ve been cooking this up for a while now and a few others and as always I hope you enjoyed

[the-froschamethyst4]

Big Dick Energy

𖤐Pairing: Mafia! Alejandro x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: smut, language, eating out, P in V, fingering, blowjob, smoking, drinking, flirting, tatted up Alejandro, married couple, mention of nudity, drunk love, dirty nickname (slut),

𖤐Summary: Alejandro was cruel and he just gives off big dick energy, I mean you should know, you’re his wife, so how big is it?

————

————

Alejandro sat on a velvet red couch watching people dance around in his club. He hated these people, they came, they go, what can you do, but he hates the people that only use him.

He swirls his glass around and looks at the man talking to him from the corner of his eye, he hated this guy. He always got on Alejandro's nerves, every little thing.

"God don't you ever shut up?" Alejandro mumbled to himself, the guy wouldn't have heard Alejandro, the music was too loud.

"I mean come on, I should have won my bet, but of course that stupid card had to take it all away," all Alejandro knew this guy was talking about poker.

He couldn't give two flying shits about poker, Alejandro is running an empire here, he makes money all on his own and along with hiring some people, he doesn't need to waste his time on stupid betting games.

He already owns a club that makes millions when he's here or not. He looks on the dancefloor to see someone, his wife. She liked to join Alejandro when he comes to the club for business. Tonight was like any other night, he did his job and she danced and had fun.

Everyone knew not to mess her because if they did, Alejandro would have their head and heart on a silver plater.

Her body glide across the dancefloor as she had fun, Alejandro kept a close eye on her. Y/n made eye contact with her husband slowly moving off the dancefloor and walking towards him, her hips moving from side to side.

She moves closer to him and sat on his lap, he just looked up at her his hand moving to her bare thigh.

"Can you go?" He asks the guy next to him.

"Me? I-I guess," the guy left and Alejandro looked at Y/n giving her a smile, his left hand going to her cheek cupping it and kissing her jaw.

"You look so beautiful," he says kissing her jaw some more.

"I know you told me before we left the house," she giggles.

"Y/n..." she looks down at him.

"Yes?"

"We should head home...I'm tired here, bored here, let's go home," he says. She got off his lap and he grabbed her hand pushing through the crowd and heading to the front doors, pulling them open and a black McLaren pulled up, the valet got out of the car and gave Alejandro his keys.

He opens the door for Y/n and she gets in. He drove them home, his hand rested on her thigh and the other gripping the stirring wheel. Y/n played with his big fingers as she looks out of the window watching the buildings pass by.

"Did you have fun?" His voice broke the silence.

"Yeah, I did, I didn't get a chance to drink though."

"I'll make you something at home," he says.

"Good," she smiles at him.

--------

Once home Alejandro helped Y/n out of his car and they headed inside the mansion. Alejandro twirled Y/n around her heels in his hand and a big smile on his face.

Alejandro always kept his heart close to the world and never thought he will EVER find love, he deemed it as impossible for himself to ever find love or fall in love.

Once he met Y/n his heart was open and he fell in love, he married her a year after they started dating and the wedding happened within a week, Alejandro wanted everything perfect for her and once married, Alejandro and Y/n wanted their time together before the thought of children ever come into their lives.

Y/n plops on the couch kicking her feet onto the coffee table and Alejandro went to the bar pouring her a mixed drink. She fluffs up her hair and then took the drink from her husband.

"Thank you, love."

"Anything for you, mi amor (my love)," he kisses her lips, holding her chin and started to briefly make out.

"Alejandro, please..." she says as his lips attacked her neck. She brings the glass to her lips taking a sip of the drink.

Alejandro then stops and starts pulling at his tie and unbuttoning his shirt completely showing off his toned body. She smiles at him, placing her drink down on the coffee table and she starts moving to his pants.

Unbuckling his pants and unbuttoning his pants as well. She gets a full view of his bulge in her face. She licks her lips as she looks up at him, gently kissing his bulge and slowly moving her hand up to his boxers next, but he holds her wrist from stopping her from going any further which made her groan.

"Come on, baby," she says, looking up at him.

"You'll have your fun in a little bit," he says, kissing her lips. "First off, I'm fucking hungry, you want anything?" he asks, before walking to the kitchen.

"I want you," she pleads.

"No, food," he says as he opens the fridge.

"Fine," she groans rolling off the couch and grabbing her drinks and she walks to the kitchen. "I want spaghetti," she says.

"Alrighty then," he says, grabbing noodles, two pots and some sauce.

"Can I help with anything?" She asks.

"Just sit there and look pretty, I got this," he says, cupping her face and kissing her lips again.

And she did just that, sitting on the marble counter, her short dress riding up to her thighs exposing a bit of her lacy underwear, she crosses her ankles leaning forward as her hands were planted on the counter.

"Can I try the sauce?" Alejandro usually made it homemade.

"Sure, mi amor," he dips the spoon in and brings it to her mouth.

"Good, very good, like usual," she says, kissing his lips.

"I'm glad, I didn't do anything different but I get worried that I may have missed an ingredient or something."

"It probably would still be good anyways," she smiles getting off the counter and hugging his waist.

After a while Alejandro and Y/n were eating dinner at their dinner table, Alejandro was drinking whiskey as Y/n was drinking wine like usual. Alejandro just stares at Y/n as she eats.

"Do I have something on my face?" She asked, taking the napkin and going around her mouth, all she got off was some lipstick.

"Nah, nothing, you're just so...sexy."

"You're a flirt."

"I'm your flirt," he smirks, leaning on his palm and still staring at her.

Alejandro then smirks before sliding down his chair and he's never done this before but crawled to Y/n's legs that were crossed, when he gets to her knees, his rough and calloused hands touching her made her jump.

"A-Ale-" she was soon cut off by his tongue licking a stripe up her wet panties. She tossed her head back and her fingers started to go through his soft hair.

"F-Fuck," she moans as he hooks his fingers around the helm of her panties and pulled hem down taking them off and licking between her wet folds now.

Her legs wanted to close so badly but his hands were holding her thighs open, she whines and grips his soft hair. Her right hand went to his hand holding open her legs. His large tatted hand made her look so small.

Alejandro then looks up at her through his long sweaty hair, she moans and leans her back, Alejandro then proceeds to move his mouth causing her to groan.

Alejandro smirks licking his fingers and then sticking them inside of her and his mouth went back around her lower half licking at her bud, and moving his fingers quickly in and out of Y/n.

She could feel herself about to cum soon, Alejandro smirks moving his mouth again and this time just his fingers.

"Come on, mi amor, come on," he groans moving his fingers faster in and out of her, she was a moaning mess. She ended up coming on his fingers, he smirks before licking her clean and then picking her up.

Taking her up to their shared bedroom, placing her on the bed, he lifts up the bottom of her dress and takes it off her completely. He smirks seeing her breasts on full display for him, she smiles and her face is a little heated up from embarrassment.

"Don't feel embarrass, amor, we've done it before."

"I know," she says, running her hands down her thighs feeling how smooth and soft they were. Alejandro started to unbutton the rest of his shirt and she helps him unbuckle his pants.

He looks down at her when his dick sprung out of his pants. Y/n licks her lips and then kisses his tip, he tosses his head back, hand going behind her head. Her mouth now around him, in a way of repaying him.

He smirks knowing how good his wife is. She looks up at him, she sits on her knees, hands on his thighs and her nose sometimes touching his lower stomach, he moans.

"God, you're s-so good at this," he says, licking the corner of his mouth and smirking down at her. Alejandro knows he's big, and thick, and he also knows Y/n can take him like it's nothing.

He doesn't want to say he 'trained' her to take his cock, but he did. She's gotten so use to him that taking him was no problem whatsoever.

"God, you are such a slut, taking me so well," his hand cupped under her chin as she continued to suck him off. She moved her mouth and starts pumping him quickly. She opens her mouth as cum squirts from his tip into her mouth.

"Fuck, mi amor," he says.

He lays in the middle of the bed, legs semi spread, arms resting on the headboard of the bed, Y/n looking at him between his legs. Before anything else starts, Alejandro leaned over into his nightstand drawer and pulled out a cigarette lighting it and then looking back at Y/n.

"Come on, amor, one more," he says, she crawls on top of him. Taking his dick and aligning it at her entrance. She slowly sinks herself onto his dick, slowly bouncing at first.

Her hands resting on his shoulders, his cigarette going between his lips and his hands holding her waist helping her pick up the pace just a bit.

Her moans tossing her head back her body had collapsed on his chest, he smirks and then sits back up looking at him now.

"Am I-I going to fast?"

"Amor, go as fast or slow as you need," he says, moving the cigarette from his lips tapping the burnt end into his little ash tray next to the bed and proceeding to kiss her neck.

Y/n didn't mind the smoking, she lowkey thought it was hot, and sexy, he didn't do it all the time which also made Y/n not mind it.

She starts to move fast, Alejandro smirking when hearing her moans come from her lips. He leans forward taking her lips into his, it became a heated make out session now.

Alejandro cupping her face, and kissing her lips. His rough hands held her waist and his tongue soon passed her lips. Y/n moved her mouth to be able to breath now, his lips attacked her neck. His hands cupping her breasts.

Y/n looks down at the cigarette and taking it from his fingers and putting it in her mouth, Alejandro knew she didn't smoke and it caught him by surprise when she took it and blew out smoke with no issue.

"Amor?"

"You have shitty taste in cigarettes," she said through a slightly disgusted look.

"But I have good taste in women," he says, laying Y/n on her back taking back is cigarette putting it back between his lips and starts picking up the pace. Her arms go around his neck, and he leans down taking her left nipple into his mouth suckling on her and flicking her bud with his tongue.

"G-God, I'm g-going to cum," she moans.

"Do it, amor, I can feel you squeeze around me," he says, putting his head back.

She let's out another moan before she felt herself coming, Alejandro sits up placing his hand on her lower stomach feeling his dick bulge in her. He then ends up coming inside of her.

----------

Alejandro was against the headboard and holding Y/n against his body. He put his cigarette out and rubbed Y/n's waist.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"Yes," she says back, bring up the blanket over her shoulders.

Her naked body, was so warm while his was burning hot. Alejandro looks down at Y/n rubbing her soft body with his rough hands, she looks up at him.

"What?"

"Nothing...I just want to hold you for a little bit," he says, before kissing the top of her head.

Y/n smiles up at him.

"I love you."

"I love you too, mi amor."

[lyrenminth]

The way you are

"Mmmm I like what I see" Justin raspy voice says from the bedroom's door. You straighten up, covering your breasts. It's his voice and the way he looks at you that makes you flush. You don't feel hot anymore, after three children your body changed a lot. A flat belly it's impossible at this point, and there are stretch marks in your belly, between your thighs, ass and boobs. And Justin is still hot, older, wiser. Lucky you.

You turned you back to him to put a bra on. "You scare me" you reply. You feel his presence behind you, and his big hands touching your breasts and your belly, hugging you, bringing you closer to him. He kisses the top of your head, then your neck, you feel the stubble grazing your tender skin, you squirm away. "Are you not tired?" after practice he still makes time to fulfill his dad duties, playing with the children or helping them with their homework.

"No, not so much" he replies, smiling against your ear. "God, you are so soft" you try your best to keep him close to you, but sometimes the self-sabotage is strong and you think he says those things out of pity. You're his wife, the mother of his children and yet, you don't feel good enough.

"My hair is wet" you say struggling to lock your bra, Justin takes the bra off, his hands covering your breasts instead. "I like it better like this" he says, playing with your boobs, pinching the nipples. You giggle, and turn around to face him. "The kids are already in bed?" you ask. "Yes, I left everything prepared for tomorrow. You don't need to worry" you stand on your tip toes to give him a grateful kiss. He leans on, and what it was supposed to be a chastise kiss turns into something more when he slips his tongue inside your mouth. "Justin.." you whisper, flustered. His intensity always surprises you, because usually he's in control about most things.

"Are you tired?" he asks against your lips. Meaning: do you want to fuck?

"No, but I don't feel sexy" you laugh. You can't hide the sadness in your voice. Justin stops to look at you, frowning. "I noticed you have been rejecting me more lately, it's because of that?" he wonders, serious. You gulp, feeling guilty. "Mmmm, yes. Some days"

"You're the most beautiful woman in my eyes" he lowers himself to be at the same eye-level as you. His words are honest and raw. He touches your belly full of stretch marks. "You made me a father, you give me a family, a purpose, everything I wanted it. You're my best friend and as the co-president of the Best Friends Committee, I forbidden self-hate" he jokes, remembering the old joke you made when you became friends back then. "And, you turn me on so much doing anything, baby" he says a little ashamed. "When you bend over the dishwasher, hard on. Packing lunches for our kids, hard on. Helping Mr. Reynolds with his poodle, hard on"

"Okay, I get it" you say, feeling emotional over his confession. "But I-I wish I could change some things"

"Like what?"

"My belly for instance" he looks pensive for a few moments before saying "I love you, I love you before and after all we went through, but I want you to feel happy. I recall you mentioned surgery to "fix you" and...well, if it's truly what you want, I would support you" he declares, getting closer once again. "But don't push me away, don't hide from me please. I love you as you are"

You press your lips together trying not to cry. "I love you" you hug him, burning your chest on his pecs, smelling his perfume. You don't realize that you're naked, but doesn't matter because Justin wants you anyway. You felt something poking at your belly.

"Let me show you that I don't care" he says softly against your ear. "Let me show you how much I adore you"

Your heart beats fast against your chest, feeling the butterflies again. After a decade together, Justin still makes you giggle like a highschool girl. Your hands take some liberties and run across his body, feeling the muscles underneath the blue shirt that makes his eyes sparkle more.

And now those eyes a eating you slowly. Lusty Justin is a sight to behold.

You lick your lips. The ache in between your legs growing each moment.

"Yes, show me please"

[eggcompany]

Divorced Zaundads AU

Except they get back together after years of being apart.

Silco grew his business, renting a big empty apartment that didn’t smell like their old apartment above the bar. He mostly just sat on his little balcony and smoked cigarettes. He spent all his time alone, doing yoga in his living room and eating salad. Food didnt taste good when he made it. Nothing felt good if he was doing it by himself.

Vander raised little Violet and baby Powder. He tried his best but he felt kinda… empty. He was stressed and did his best working the bar and taking the kids to school and trying to keep the apartment clean. He sometimes still grabbed four plates for dinner.

Everything falls into place one day, after three years. Silco’s in a bad place. He’d been drinking and yelling at employees and just spending every minute out of the office sitting in the dark of his apartment. Vander was burnt out, going through the motions. He just wanted to sleep all the time.

Silco decided he’d go to the place him and Vander used to go to. The bridge. He threw on his coat, wearing his slippers and wrinkled silk pajamas, and went out to smoke a cigar and over look the river.

Vander decided he needed to go on a walk, get some fresh air. Benzo had agreed to babysit AKA sleep in the recliner in the apartment living room just in case one of the girls woke up. He ended up at the river, the bridge, the one where he asked Silco to spend their lives together.

Silco didn’t notice him until Vander was leaning against the guardrail next to him. He could’ve cried. He was warm and the smell of him was so bone deep familiar. Silco didn’t mean to let the sob out.

“I missed you. I miss you so fucking much it’s killing me.” Silco said as Vander pulled him into a hug, so close, so tight. Vander held onto him like he’d never let go, nosing at his dark hair.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just- I need you.” Vander said and Silco nodded, hands twisting in Vander’s jacket.

Silco was being pushed away, his hands coming up to wipe away his tears before Vander was leaning down to press a kiss onto his lips. Neither of them knew who started it but soon they were making their way to the closest motel.

It was a blur of familiar hands, clothes hitting the floor, whispered ‘I love you’s, and what they both needed. The intimacy of being with someone who knows every inch, every good spot, everything.

Vander kissed across the scar on Silco’s face, the mark he’d caused, even as Silco cried, the feeling of being full, for the first time in so long, he could feel Vander’s heartbeat, his sorrow.

“I wanna go home.” Silco said as they laid together in the motel bed, cuddled close, satisfied and happy.

“I what you home. It’s where you belong.” Vander said and pulled Silco impossibly closer.

When the morning rolled around Silco put his pajamas back on and his coat, a giddy, teenage kinda laughter filled them as they put their clothes on and left the motel. It was a flower bloomed again for the first time in the spring.

The girls were happy when their papa came back. Powder clinging to his pant leg, violet was a little more withheld. Silco understood. The scars and his eye, she was afraid of him. It was okay.

Soon he let his lease end and their apartment, the one that they were always supposed to have, was bright and back to the way it was supposed to be.

[causenessus]

Meeting Your Eyes. | Bungou Stray Dogs

inc: dazai, chuuya, tecchou (ft. cranky jouno <3), tachihara

written in 2nd pov (female implied!)

song recc: my jinji by sunset rollercoaster

word count: 1492 words

lil scenarios of meeting their eyes <3 chuuya and tachihara get special treatment with lowercase names in theirs bc their just so soft and i love them so much but they're all so sweet !!! i refuse to write dialogue in paragraphs so sorry they're mixed with the headcanons (๑´ ^ `๑) hope u enjoy!! this is my slightly late valentine's day post <33

dazai

tries to meet your eyes the whole day at the agency

peeks above your laptop screen and to the side trying to grab your attention and pouts when you don’t look at him

solely because he wants attention or because he wants to convince you to go somewhere with him

Atsushi has discovered that it’s impossible to communicate with Dazai when he gets like this

the boy can only watch as Dazai progressively gets closer to you, and by the end he’s completely on his desk and leaning over yours <3

“[Y/N]...” he whined, using a hand to move your computer screen back and forth

“yes?” you said, keeping your eyes focused on the wobbling screen

“look at meee, please?” he inched closer to your face, almost breaking your mask

you know as soon as you look at him you won’t be able to say no

he’ll be giving you puppy eyes the entire day, and he knows that if he can get you to look at him, he’ll be able to convince you

“I’m sure Kunikida-kun wouldn’t mind if we went home a little early, can we please?” he continued to beg

you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to clear your mind, “even if he doesn’t mind–which I think is highly doubtful–I still have work I can get done. so the answer is no. you can hang in there, love.”

your words went through one ear and out the other, “can you say it while looking at me?” he was using a soft, quiet voice that was making it hard to stay strong. if he wasn’t so persuasive, you’d love to look at your boyfriend’s pretty face. it was already hard enough to not look at him even though you knew how convincing he could be

a hand brushed against yours, starting to play with your index finger as Dazai whined your name again.

you opened your eyes as you answered, “no, ‘Samu–” the moment you met eyes with him, your resolve faltered

he had the most adorable expression on his already endearing face that made your heart ache whenever he looked at you like this.

you averted your eyes as you silently closed your laptop, beginning to pack your bag, “...I suppose I could get it done tomorrow. and as long as it’s turned in by its deadline Kunikida-san will be fine with it.”

“oh! my belladonna!” Dazai exclaimed as he practically threw himself onto you, arms wrapped around your neck, “I knew I could convince you. let’s go home,” he gave you an innocent smile, pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling away to gather his own things

chuuya

chuuya meets your eyes from across a corporate party

you’re the only one he can truly feel comfortable around in such a large setting. he feels safer knowing you’re safe when he’s around you and can see you

plus, he’s more than happy to walk around with you. he’s proud to be walking with the beautiful lady who’s turning every head <3 it’s even better because he knows that no matter what, you’re all his

he looks for you the moment he arrives at the party, searching the crowd for your face

he ignores anyone trying to talk to him or offer him something to drink. honestly, he waves everyone away, completely focused on finding you

he pushes past a couple in the crowd and suddenly he’ll see you; your eyes slightly wide and mouth parted as you meet his eyes from afar

as soon as you see him, you’re pushing through the crowd to get to him and he’s doing the same. you never take your eyes off of him, scared to lose him in the crowd again

when you finally meet, it’s like everything was set just for this moment. a beam of light perfectly shines over you both as you meet in the middle

“you look stunning, sweetheart,” he can’t help but say, hands trailing down your sides, resting on your hips

your arms drape across his shoulders and around his neck as you brush noses with him, “so do you, darling.” you both share a smile, continuing to look into his slate colored eyes. “I was looking everywhere for you.”

he can feel his heart start to slow as he relaxes in your hold. “so was I, doll,” as he stares into your eyes, he realizes that all he needs is you.

“say,” he murmurs, eyes lowering to watch his hands as they draw circles on your skin, “I know we just got here, but I just wanna be with you. wanna get out of here?” when he looks back up at you, his eyes are playful

“as long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we go,” you respond, intertwining your hand with his as he starts to lead you through the crowd <3

tecchou

you meet eyes with Tecchou when you look across the table to find him already looking at you

your heart stirs, stricken by those pretty amber eyes, and he hasn’t even processed that you’ve caught him staring

he’s so entranced in you that he only smiles when you meet his eyes, his head resting on a hand

“Hiro, you’re staring again,” you say softly, your cheeks warm a little under his gaze

“I can’t help it, angel. I could stare at you all day and it wouldn’t be enough, you’re just too perfect.” <3

Jouno is most certainly not happy about it

“Tecchou-san, I can hear you ogling [Y/N]-san from here and I really wish you would stop. Please stop breathing while you’re at it,” he scoffs from the other side of the table

(it’s Jouno’s special way of saying he’s happy for you both <3)

probably how you ended up finding out that he liked you

he had never hidden how much he stared at you because he was never ashamed of it

you thought he was so charming when you first met him that you were surprised he would ever take interest in you

“it’s not just that you’re beautiful. it’s just like I can see how pure you are in character. everything around you is brighter, whether I’m looking at you or when I’m with you. it’s been like that ever since I first met you,” he answered when you brought this up the day he confessed

(ear plugs did not save Jouno in the room over who was reaching for a trash can

you try to hold his gaze whenever you meet eyes with him but you’re always the first to look away, face turning red while he only continues to look at you with a lovesick smile <3

tachihara

you’re the person tachihara looks to whenever someone says something worth sharing “a look” for or when someone says something funny

yk like when someone says questionable and you look to someone else like “did they just say that fr?”

that’s tachihara and you <3

whenever jokes are made, he laughs and looks at you to see if you found it funny as well

loves to laugh with you and make you laugh <3

he has a ton of inside jokes with you

for example, radios are heavily used in the mafia so that everyone can communicate

earpieces do their job, but despite the beauty of modern technology sometimes their audio can be so scratchy and incoherent. especially when people get farther away, the audio just gets harder and harder to understand

once, when tachihara took you out on a date and you both were walking around in a store, a worker came on to the intercom to say something but it just sounded like a jumble of fuzz and garbled words.

he nudged you with his shoulder saying, “sounds like hirotsu every time he tries to speak to us during a job.”

you both were crying, holding onto shelves and dying of laughter afterwards <3

and now every time during a job when you hear hirotsu through your ear piece, you both immediately look at each other with mischievous smiles and stifled laughter

even during the most serious of meetings–you both could be standing right in front of Mori and it’s like you guys have a telepathic connection

you both will look at each other simultaneously and share the same thoughts

meeting eyes with him always ends with you both having uncontrollable smiles that automatically spread across your faces <3

along with the knowing looks you two share, there’s so much love and adoration in your eyes for each other

he also knows that if you don’t meet his eyes or if they’re not as lively as usual, something’s wrong and he’s always quick to ask you what he can do to help <3