#maybe the thought of expectation will kick me in the pants??

[jazzzzzzhands]

Doing practice sketches until the art block goes away, Day 2

I wasn't sure about teeth at first but man oh man, I think I really like Barn with teeth! How else is he supposed to have a shit-eating grin?

[gutsby]

Stiff

Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader

Summary: At fifty-nine, Joel isn’t sure his dick can keep up with every day it’s going to take to get you pregnant. He seeks help from Jackson’s local apothecary and gets more than bargained for when that little blue pill kicks in.

Or, your old man wants to knock you up. Viagra helps.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v (obviously 😵‍💫🤙🏼). Breeding kink. Age gap. Peepaw Joel. Blue Pill Joel. Post-apocalyptic-Viagra-dosage-gone-horribly-wrong-and-now-his-dick-won’t-deflate-for-a-day…but it’s OK!

Note: This is the crackfic counterpart/sequel to ‘Make It Stick’

Word count: 2.9k

Forty-five minutes.

Forty-five minutes until his fate was sealed for the night. His pulse would quicken. His head would start to swim, and any last sliver of rational thought would be lost to the ether or the cold, snowy air around him. Joel Miller had to hurry now, because that bite-sized blue pill he’d just taken was in his belly, and if his dick didn’t find its way in you, he was fucked. Or at least huge and swollen and leaking out beads of hot desire the size of golf balls.

Well, maybe that was just his cock.

Joel looked down, scanning his pants.

Yeah…definitely just cock. He walked faster.

At home, he knew he’d find you curled up on the couch, nose in a book. What to Expect When You’re Expecting, if he had to guess. Then, sure enough, you’d lift your eyes and smile—‘Thank goodness you’re back, daddy’—and lift the hem of your night dress just slightly. Spread your legs and beckon him in. It was a nightly routine by now.

You wanted to be knocked up as fast as possible, after all

At almost sixty years old, Joel couldn’t believe he was actually saying these words aloud. But here he was—crawling overtop you on the couch, situating himself between your legs, and pulling his cock out, mumbling:

“Gonna let me put a baby in you tonight?”

You nodded sweetly—eagerly—every time.

Joel knew he could never resist that look. He was as good as finished the first second you let him sink inside your tight, weeping hole, and when he stretched it, he could already tell this was all he would ever want to do. Make you happy, fill you up, give you lots and lots of him.

It was why he’d stopped by the apothecary tonight. Why he’d hesitated only a moment before clearing his throat and asking for a pill like Viagra—Joel knew that the man behind the counter would flash him a wry, knowing grin.

Trouble keepin’ up with that sweet young thing’a yours?

David was a dick.

He wasn’t entirely wrong, either.

Ever since agreeing to start trying for a baby, Joel had become acutely aware of his own physical limitations in that department, and one of them was stamina. He could scarcely fuck twice in the same night without needing a long and rest-intensive breather. You were young and could roll over ready to go in five minutes.

It wasn’t fair to deprive you now on account of his age.

If you wanted his cum, you were getting it, no question.

Not just once, but multiple times. Again and again and—

“Again,” Joel grunted once he’d shot off his last spurt.

Fifty-eight minutes had passed since he’d taken that pill. It had fully kicked in, and his dick was still hard, even after finishing inside you with a sticky, white-hot flood.

You blinked dreamily up at him.

“You mean it, old man?” you teased him lightly.

I’ll show you what I mean, Joel thought to himself before flipping you over on the sofa. He had your hips tilted up and his cock driving back inside your freshly-fucked cunt in no time at all. He felt his spend coating your walls; it let him glide right in. Joel groaned and jerked himself back out, then fucked back in again and again and again.

“Again?”

Your word was exhaled in a laugh.

You stood in front of the bathroom sink, trying to tidy up the insides of your legs and push some more of Joel’s load back in, when you felt a presence at your back.

Stabbing your ass.

You started to turn then, puzzled.

“Bend over,” Joel commanded before you could.

You did as you were told because, frankly, you loved getting fucked wherever your old man wanted it—even if he had broken the sink one time he’d pounded you here.

But there was palpable confusion, too. How in the hell had Joel Miller, certified silver fox and owner of a dick old enough to remember Woodstock and the moon landing, managed to get his dick hard in the five minutes since he’d had you face-down, ass-up on the couch?

Or had his dick gotten soft at all?

You wanted to question him about it, or else give a long, hard look at his uncharacteristically long, hard friend, when the next moment had you gripping the counter. Stretching between the legs as Joel pushed back in.

“There she is,” he murmured affectionately.

Really, you’d never been wetter. Or warmer. Or filled to the brim with more sticky-white spend than you could ever hope to hold inside, it felt like. You bent at the waist and let him have his fill. You closed your eyes and rested your head on your forearms while Joel’s hot, bulbous tip grazed your cervix with dizzying alacrity. A smile crept in.

Whatever this was, you wanted more of it.

His dick was still hard.

Four mind-numbing fucks and another forty-five minutes later, Joel’s cock hadn’t deflated the tiniest bit.

The thing had hammered you so thoroughly he’d nearly destroyed the sink again. You’d whimpered, and whined, and warned him quietly, ‘We just fixed the porcelain, baby,’ and right before he’d painted your walls with his seed, you’d cum for him practically shrieking. Shaking.

Letting him turn you around for a kiss, only to mumble against his mouth with a sleepy, cockdrunk sort of lilt:

“I think you gave me twins.”

Then he’d fucked you in the shower to make it triplets.

Now you were laying out on the bed, truly spent, eyes following him in the semi-darkness of your bedroom after you’d toweled off and collapsed among the pillows.

“What’s gotten into you tonight, Miller?” you breathed.

Joel made it over to the dresser, back turned to you. He rifled through a drawer looking for something extra tight.

“Just missed you is all,” he said, shrugging.

What he needed right now was fabric that was very thick to hide the boner he was sporting. Joel could tell from the way you spoke that you were too tired for round five, and he didn’t want you feeling like you had to go again.

He would be fine.

His dick might not deflate until dawn, but that was okay.

“Wish you missed me like this every day,” you giggled.

When Joel turned around, he was shocked to find you sprawled out on the bed—hands between your legs.

There was a shy smile on your face.

“Baby…” he trailed off, watching your fingers flit through that sticky mess where he’d left it. Where you glistened.

Where you slid your index and middle fingers up and down your slit and drew circles on your clit, eyes shining.

“What? I missed you too,” you said, tone all faux protest.

You had no idea what you did to him when you talked like that. Especially when he was drowning in a state like this.

Hard as a rock.

Throbbing.

Needy.

Scarcely even knowing what he was doing, Joel found himself over by the foot of the bed in a second. Watching your every move with a wild, wipe-open stare he still couldn’t believe you found appealing. He swallowed.

He not only looked perverted, but he felt it, too. It rarely ever left his mind, save for the four or five seconds he spent in ecstasy emptying the contents of his balls inside your cunt, that he was his age, and you were yours. That perhaps the rest of Jackson was right, and he was wrong: he had no business being around a girl like you, much less getting off inside you every night. Was this really what you wanted? A bewildering mixture of guilt, lust, and love all circulated through his skull at that moment, and the longer he spent looking at your fingers, ogling the way you teased them through his cum between your legs, the more he felt certain he was bad.

No one corrupted a thing this sweet and got to call themselves good, anyway, he thought to himself idly.

“I keep gettin’ that…feelin’,” you said under your breath.

Joel’s hand tightened in a fist, and it was then that he realized it was wrapped around his cock. Still watching.

“Yeah, baby? What feelin’?” he returned, almost as quiet.

Still stroking himself up and down, up and down, softly.

You had your legs spread open—knees splayed wider than they’d been before. And your eyes had a tender, placid sheen to them, like they just might cry if they didn’t get release of some kind soon. Then you slowed.

Your touch slipped from your clit to the opaque, sticky globs between your thighs, and that look got even softer.

More desperate.

“Can’t…explain it.” You shook your head, as if pained, and then you sank two fingers inside. Joel could hear the tiny schlick from where he stood, and it almost did him in.

You sucked in a breath and added, “It’s a special feelin’.”

Joel’s fist had already worked its way up to a ridiculous speed. Again, he sensed this might be the worst and most pathetic he’d ever looked, but by the glint in your eyes and the way you kept holding him there, he also knew you weren’t asking him to stop, either. You were needing something else—something he could provide.

Thanks to that one stupid pill.

Joel’s smile was strained as he gripped the edge of the bed, like he was trying to assuage you and him at once.

“Try me, baby. Tell me ‘bout that special feelin’.”

Your middle and ring fingers disappeared inside you.

You whined, “Ain’t fair to say it now. You’re tired, daddy.”

Like hell he was. Joel crawled over the footboard and made his way straight to you, where your body was limp.

His breaths were coming in so fast and his pulse was thrumming so hard that he almost couldn’t hear himself talking. But he ventured to speak as gently as he could.

“I’m wide awake, sweet pea. I’m all ears. Talk to me.”

And if his words didn’t communicate as much, surely the look in his eyes would’ve told you all the rest. Quietly, he slipped his torso between your legs, where you’d inserted a third finger and were moving your hips again. You were fingering yourself, breathing shallow and quick.

“It’s a feelin’ like I wanna be…stuffed…a-and full’a you.”

Joel’s whole body could’ve liquified on the spot. His brain, presently, had all the consistency of a plate of scrambled eggs if he’d had to guess. Feeling his cock swell even bigger and his hips sink lower to yours of their own accord, he had only to grit his teeth and nod his head. He felt the tip of him bump your fingers, and the sensation and the expectation nearly drove him insane.

He mumbled quietly, “Then move your hand.”

You did. You winced again. You looked as though you might be ashamed for wanting him to fill you with his spend, and Joel simply wouldn’t allow that any longer.

Without saying another word, he slid back in.

Your cum and his facilitated the slide, and you opened right up for him. You whimpered, while Joel grunted like an animal. He couldn’t help it; it all felt so fucking primal.

How you could ever feel the need to apologize for wanting more of this was more than he could take.

“Every inch of me,” Joel said, rutting deeper, “is yours.”

He withdrew to the tip, and he could feel strings of arousal linking him to you in a sickeningly sweet way.

You could scarcely even nod, just waiting for him again.

When Joel plunged back in, he heard a feral little cry, and he felt your legs wrap around his waist. He went faster. You fisted the pillow behind your head in one hand, while the other laid flat on his chest, like you were checking for a heartbeat. You could probably hear it thudding a million miles per minute right now. Your hips collided in tandem.

“D— Daddy,” you whimpered.

“That’s it, open up for daddy. Good girl. It’s all yours.”

The sounds his thrusts were making were obscene.

“Every inch?” you breathed, “E-Every drop, too?”

“Every fiber of my fucking being, sweet girl.”

That made you smile, at length. Your hand slid from his chest, down his round belly, straight to a groin that was pounding hard and fast against your own. Joel groaned when he felt your touch sweep inside your legs—right in the space where his cum had come trickling out. You slid your fingers through that mess, then whimpered again.

Then you brought your hand up to your mouth.

You wrapped your lips around your cum-soaked fingers like they were the single sweetest thing, and you sucked.

Joel had no say after seeing that: he had to cum again.

It likely stunned you both—you more than him, by the look that crossed your eyes the second you felt him throb and pulse inside your cunt—but then it kept going.

Rather than stop, or slow down in the slightest, Joel found his hips pistoning faster than they had before. The whole bed frame shook, and your body trembled with every thrust, and the noises between your legs grew even louder; the sound of skin slapping skin was only amplified by the addition of Joel’s hot load in the mix.

The man was operating on impulse. You, through sheer awe and an animalistic need to have every crevice filled. You held him and you grit your teeth, and you let him keep using your body, while you used his. You kissed him.

“Go on, then—make me a daddy. Take my cum, baby,” Joel babbled, brainless, “Make your old man a daddy.”

He couldn’t tell if it were the words or the rhythm or the pleasure that had already been blossoming deep in your gut this whole time, but he felt you fall apart. You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist than you had all night, and you screamed his name. Begged for more.

“Cum in me, daddy—pleasepleaseplease just cum, ju—”

And there he went. Again. Flooding your insides with his warmth and letting his cock carve a wild, relentless path through your cunt like it was all the man knew how to do. He filled you up. He felt it leaking down his length with every stab of his hips, and frankly, he didn’t care what he looked like now. You were smiling big, drawing him in for more kisses as he panted and grunted and whimpered like he never had before. He kissed back. Slowed down.

Found himself lost in your mouth as your tongue wove delectably through his own and your hands made their way to his wild, greying hair. You tugged, and he moaned.

He fucked his spend deeper without even meaning to.

All instinct again, it seemed he couldn’t get enough.

Suddenly, he felt a new, strange urge bubble up.

“I-I-I took a pill tonight,” he blurted out, “Know how badly you want this baby, and I wanna give you one.”

Or two. Or twenty. He was barely capable of speech, let alone rational cognition, so he just spoke whatever came to his mind then, still snug inside your legs and panting.

“A pill?” you whispered back.

Joel’s gaze locked with yours.

He felt stupid for it all at once.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just— I know I’m gettin’ on in years, and I probably can’t fuck the way I used to. And you deserve someone who can…Maybe a guy your age, but that—”

“—is the single dumbest thing you have ever said to me,” you finished for him, eyes narrowing swiftly in a scowl.

When Joel tried talking again, you cut him off.

“I don’t care what any guy my age is doing, or could do. I want babies with you, and that includes every part, OK?”

Your look softened momentarily, seeing his lips twitch down—you could probably see he wasn’t believing you.

Then you cradled his face in your palms. You smiled. You brushed his nose with yours, and you kissed him again, and with what little strength you likely had left in your body, you dug your heels in his ass and pulled him deeper. Both of you let out soft, low grunts at the effort.

“If you fucked like this at twenty-five, my body wouldn’t have survived anyway,” you whispered in reassurance. Biting back a laugh as Joel smiled, too, “I like things just the way they are. Just like how I hope you like me, too.”

“No—I love you.” Joel shook his head, almost plaintive.

And for the first time that night, he felt himself soften.

Whether it was the pill wearing off or that first thread of vulnerability stretching out between your body and his, he didn’t really care. He kissed the tip of your nose and was about to say something more, when you cut back in.

“I love you more. And since we’re being honest tonight,” you started quietly, nipping at your bottom lip a second, “I might…need you back at the apothecary tomorrow.”

Joel’s face fell.

“Wh— is something wrong, baby?” His voice was tight.

He hated seeing David, but, of course, he’d go back there in a heartbeat if it meant getting you the medication you needed. His stomach was starting to churn, when you reached up to hold his face again. You shook your head.

“No, no, Joel, I’m fine. But I may need prenatal vitamins.”

Now his eyes were going wide. His cheeks heated under your palms, and his cock twitched inside you, reflexively.

“You mean…” he murmured, unable to finish. Swallowing.

Beneath him, he saw you smile and nod.

He nearly choked hearing what followed:

“I meant to tell you earlier, but…my period’s a little late.”

[writers-potion]

Let's Talk About Pacing Our Fight Scenes.

For Fast-Paced Parts:

Short words with single syllables. Immediately > at once/ endeavour > try/ indicate > point at/ investigate > check out.

Short sentences, the shorter the better.

Partial sentences to blaze through multiple senses and actions within a few lines.

Short paragraphs

Lots of verbs.

Few adjectives and adverbs.

Cut down on -ing form of verbs, as it can make words longer

Use simple past tense

Avoid conjunctions and link words.

Avoid internal thought - your characters are irrational, ruthless and in the flow of pure action.

For Slow-Paced Parts:

Use medium/long sentences

the paragraphs are longer: three lines minimum

Include longer words with more syllables

Use adjectives and maybe a couple of adverbs.

Insert the thoughts of the PoV character.

Words for Action Scenes

act, alter, attack, avert, back, block, bang, bash, battle, beat, beg, belt, bend, best, bite, blacken, bleed, blind, blister, blow, blunt, boil, bolt, boot, bore, bow, box, brace, brag, brash, brawl, break, breathe, brush, buck, bulgde, burn, burst, cackle, call, can, carry, cart, carve, catch, check, chop, chuck, clack, clank, clap, clash, claw, clear, cleave, click, cliff, cling, clip, close, club, cock, coil, cold, collar, come, con, connect, corner, cost, count, counter, cover, cower, crack, crackle, cram, crash, crawl, creep, crinkle, cross, crouch, rush, cry, cuff, cull, cup, curl, curse, curve, cusp, cut, dart, dash, deepen, dig, deep, dip, ditch, drive, drop, duck, dump, ede, effect, erect, escape, exert, expect, feint, fight, fire fist, fit, flag, flare, flash, flick, fling, flip, flock, force, gash, gasp, get, gore, grab, grasp, grip, grope, group, hack, harden, heat, help, hit, hop, hurl, hurry, impale, jab, jar, jerk, join, jolt, jump, keep, kick, kill, knee, knock, knot, knuckle, leak, leap, let, lever, lick, lift, lock, loop, lop, plunge, mask, nick, nip, open, oppose, pace, pack, pain, pair, pale, palm, pan, pant, parry, part, pass, paste, pat, peak, peck, pelt, pick, pierce, pile, ping, piss, pit, pivot, plot, pluck, plug, plunge, ply, point, pool, pop, pose, pot, pound, pour, powder, pray, preen, prepare, prey, prick, prickle, print, probe, pry, pull, pulp, pulse, pump, punch, pursue, push, quarry, quarter, quest, race, raise, rake, ram, rap, rasp, rear, retreat, rip, riposte, rivert, roar, rock, roll, rope, round, rouse, run, rush, sap, scale, scalp, scan, score,scream, seek, seep, shake, shape, sharpen, shock, shoot, shop, slap, slap, slash, slice, slick, slip, slit, smash, snap, snare, snatch, snipe, sock, space, spar, spark, speed, spike, spill, spin, spit, splash, spoil, spring, spur, spurt, spy, squirm, stand, steert, step, stick, strap, strike, stuff, suck, support, swat, sweat, sweep, swingm tack, tag, take, target, taste, team, tear, tent, test, thrash, throw, thrust, thud, tick, tide, tilt, time, tire, top, toss, tower, toy, trap, trick, trigger, trip, triumph, trouble, trump, try, tuck, tug, twril, twitch, weaken, wet, whip, whirl, whirr, whoop, whoosh, whop, work, zap, zip.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[agirlsguidetolove]

I THOUGHT YOU KNEW

pairings: theodore nott x reader

word count: 0.9k

summary: “i thought you knew?” “you thought i knew we were dating?” “yes!” “how would i know that, nott, you never told me.”

Theodore Nott had dead eyes. That was something you had learned early on in your friendship with the boy; never expect his eyes to tell you anything. But, right now, you couldn’t help but wonder if your own advice was wrong because the look he was giving you in the moment was the farthest thing to dead. Alive.

Theodore’s eyes were ablazed, like you had lit a match in his face just as he had done with his cigarettes the night before. They looked on fire as he glared off at you, standing and chatting with some Ravenclaw boy who had decided to make the stupid of going to a slytherin party and talking to Theo’s girl.

It was a common fact that you and Theo had something, everyone knew. Well, maybe except for you.

Maybe that’s why you hadn’t expected for Theodore to waltz up to you and your new friend and throw an arm over your shoulder, and stand and listen to you too talk, not saying a word.

“Think we should get out of here?” Was the first thing he said to you, well, whispered into your ear, pulling you closer.

“I’m okay here, Teddy,” you said. Theo visible softened, melting into you at the nickname only you were allowed to call him. “You can go, though. I’ll be alright, promise.”

Theo smiled at you as you patted his arm that was wrapped around your shoulder, watching as your attention drifted back to whoever this guy was. He sighed.

“I know,” Theo started before your Ravenclaw friend interrupted.

“Yeah, mate, we’ll be okay,” he said. Theo hardened, dead eyes becoming colder as he took his arm off your shoulder, stepping forward and shoving the guy.

“Was I fucking talking to you, mate?” he spit.

“Woah!” you cut, pulling Theo back with your hand to his chest, “What the hell, Theo?”

“Yeah,” the Raveclaw pants. “What the hell, Nott? Calm down!”

Theodore sneers, glaring harshly ate the boy before hissing, “Fuck off,” and pushing past him and bumping his shoulder aggressively as he makes his way out of the common room.

Staring of at his fuming figure you quickly apologize to the boy before chasing off after Theo. When you find him, he’s angrily pacing through the hallway, running a hand through his hair.

“Theo,” you state angrily. Theo’s head whips to where you stand before shaking his head and choosing to walk away from you and down the hall.

“Theo!” you yell, walking quickly behind him. “What the fuck was that about? Can you wait for a second and talk to me?”

Theo stops, allowing you to catch up to him. You can practically see the steam coming out when he turns to you. “What am I supposed to do?” he asks bitterly. “Just let him flirt with you?”

“What?” you ask, just as bitter. “What are you talking about? Why’d you have to fucking shove, Dylan?”

Dylan. Theodore scoffs, getting madder by the second. He takes a step closer, towering over you. “So I’m just supposed to stand there when some prick is running up on my girlfriend!”

Girlfriend? What the hell was he on about. “Girlfriend?” you question, softer.

“Yes! You’re my girlfriend!” Theodore shouted. He just wasn’t getting it, was he?

“What?” you spluttered. “Since when?”

“What,” Theo got quieter.

“i didn’t know…” you said. “when did we start dating?…o-officially?”

“You didn’t know?” he repeated, incredulous. “I… I thought… I thought you knew?”

“You thought I knew we were dating?” You were getting louder, voice echoing off the walked.

“Yes!” Theo yelled, eyes getting sadder.

“How would I know that, Nott, you never told me!”

Theodore shakes his head, again getting gentle. “Don’t start calling me ‘Nott’ now, angel, you don’t do that.”

“Theo,” you reiterated, taking a breath. “When did we— when did we start ‘dating’.”

Theo looks like a kicked puppy when he says, “Last trip to Hogsmeade. We kissed.”

Looking at the ground, you say, “Just because we kissed doesn’t mean we’re dating.”

“To me, it did!”

“You kiss plenty of girls that you’re not dating!” you argue.

Theo scoffs, “They’re not you, now are they?”

“Teddy,” you say, tears quickly forming in your eyes. Looking up at him, he purses his lips, heart breaking in his chest. “Why couldn’t you have just asked me to be your girlfriend?”

“Love, I… I thought you knew, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, hugging yourself with your own arms, still holding in your tears. “Well, I didn’t.”

It’s silent between you both for a moment, nothing but you staring at the floor and Theo staring at you. Theo takes a small step forward, his hands touching where you hold yourself. “Would you?” he says, “Be my girlfriend, if I asked?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, looking up at him, “if you’d ask, you dick.”

Theo chuckles, dipping his head low and putting his lips against yours. His lips are so soft, despite how he tastes like liquor and cigarettes. He breaks apart from you, hand coming to caress your cheek. “Would you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes, I would.”

not proof read 🧸

i 🫶 theo nott

[fallingforyouforeverr]

𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐭 | 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

summary: lando begins to panic when you don't want to cuddle with him

author's note: it's really hot rn where I live so i just wanted to write a cute little blurb inspired by my own suffering. vote here for who i write my next fic about!

• f1 masterlist • youtubers masterlist •

Lando was confused. He didn't think he had done anything wrong, and you didn't seem to be upset with him until now, so he couldn't possibly understand why you were refusing to cuddle with him.

It started off as most of your evenings did. After dinner, he washed the dishes while you dried and put them away, then you both moved into the living room to watch some tv before bed. Only, when Lando tried to pull you closer, you pushed his arm off you, moving away and leaving your boyfriend staring at you like a kicked puppy.

You didn't seem to think anything of it, settling back down on the other side of the sofa and pressing play on your favourite show. However, Lando was still frozen, mind reeling from your rejection. He wondered if you were ignoring him because you were mad or if it was just a mistake and you genuinely couldn't feel his eyes on you.

At last, the uncertainty became to much to bear and he decided to speak up. "Um...baby?" He asked tentatively, watching your face closely to see your reaction.

"Yeah?" You answered, glancing away from the screen.

Huh. That's weird. You didn't seem mad at all, and you obviously weren't ignoring him, so what was this about? Maybe you weren't feeling well suddenly?

"You feeling okay, sweetheart?"

Turning your body to face him, your equally as confused expression only eased his worries slightly. "Yeah, I'm alright. Why?"

Deciding it was probably best to be direct, Lando spoke again. "You pushed me away!"

You couldn't help but giggle at the adorable pout on his face, suddenly feeling bad for not explaining your behaviour earlier. "Lan, my love, I'm so sorry! I promise I'm not mad at you or anything, it's just because of the weather."

"The weather?" His expression changed, a slight frown settling into his brow as he waited for you to continue speaking.

"It's too hot," you explained. "It's my first summer in Monaco, I wasn't expecting it to be this warm. I didn't want to cuddle because I knew I would overheat."

Lando mentally slapped himself for not thinking of that as a possibility. He had lived here for a few years so he was used to the unrelenting sunshine by now, but you had only moved in with him recently so of course you weren't. He couldn't help but laugh at how much he was stressing over something so small.

"You idiot, making me panic like that!" The brunette scolded you playfully. You stared up at him innocently, batting your eyelashes with a smile.

Lando suddenly grabbed hold of your waist, and you shrieked loudly. You wriggled helplessly in his grasp, as he tickled you sides, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"I'll stop if you say sorry."

"Never," you gasped, swatting at his hands. He merely shrugged, tickling you harder.

"You sure?"

"Okay, okay, I-I'm sorry!" You managed between breathless pants.

Lando grinned cheekily at you, allowing you a moment to catch your breath before he leaned in to kiss you softly. You threw your arms around his neck tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss. When you finally had to pull away for air, he rested his forehead against yours.

"I thought you were too hot," he teased, causing you to groan again and smack his shoulder. Lando pressed another quick kiss to your lips before continuing, "and for the record, I am definitely buying you like 20 fans tomorrow."

[thargelalia]

see you in hell, baby

jason todd x fem!reader

Dick naively expects Jason to help him stay in your good graces as the MVP brother-in-law

-> 1.4k words

-> fluff, poor attempt at humor

-> warnings: none, the dynamic duo being dorks together perhaps?

please, reblog if you like or the author will cry

There's nothing better than to enjoy the vast collection of classics at the Wayne Manor library on a rare peaceful Sunday afternoon.

Or is it?

“Jaybird, hey!” Dick greets his younger brother, a little more excited than usual, as he saunters into the library. “Have you.. uhh, is my BFF around?” 

He’s scanning around the place like you could emerge from behind the couches or bookshelves at any given moment. Judging by his tone, Jason can already tell Dick wants something, but chooses to ignore him, too immersed in his current book to care. 

Dick looks left and right to the hallway before closing the doors, and joining Jason on the leather couch. The latter finally acknowledged his older brother to get this over with, so he can leave and Jason can read in peace. 

“She went to the bathroom.. why?” Jason says, narrowing his eyes inquisitively at Dick’s fidgeting. A fake smile plastered on his face, sweat bidding on the temple. He’s obviously worried about something. “You’re being weirder than usual.. Got your pants stuffed with itching powder again?”

His lips twitch upwards a little at the memory. 

“No, I— please, don’t ever remind me of that day again.” Dick winces, rubbing on his thigh to soothe an imaginary itch. Steph really goes all in on April Fool’s Day.

He clears his throat. “So, uh.. maybe, just maybe… I might’ve accidentally scratched that Beatles record sis-in-law lent to me last week.”

Jason exhales, contemplating whether he should ease Dick’s mind or not. While you were very careful and protective of your vinyl record collection, depending on which one that got damaged – and the extent of it – you might get a little upset, but let it go without much trouble. 

Not before an hour lecture to the culprit about taking better care of other people’s stuff, of course. 

“As long as it’s not Sergeant Pepper’s, you’ll be fine.” Jason shrugs, then chuckles to himself a little as he opens his book again. “Perhaps a kick or two to your shins.”

The silence that follows is pregnant with guilt. Jason can almost smell it in the air at the way his brother blanches next to him. 

“Fuck. Don’t tell me—”

“It was an accident!”

“Dick, you insane?! It was a gift from her grandmother!” Jason chastises, smacking the book shut with a hard thud. “You damaged an original copy from the seventies, you fucking idiot!”

Dick slides down on the couch, a pout taking over his lips. “I know!” 

“Can’t believe she let you borrow it.” Jason huffs, crossing his arms while shaking his head indignantly.

Dick has his hands on his head, about ready to rip his hair out.

“I know! What do I do now??”

“Well… for starters,” Jason begins dead serious, leaning towards Dick, who straightens his posture, desperate to hear a solution, “when was the last time you updated your last will and testament?”

“Shit.” Dick falls into the cushions, a desolated sigh leaving the depths of his soul. “Not helping, man.”

“Maybe Bruce can recycle my gravestone,” Jason continues, tapping his chin in fake thought, “what about an epitaph? Sure you’ve got some ideas.”

As always, any comment remotely related to his death has all the bats squirming or tensing like they’ve been poked by Catwoman’s sharp claws – which most of them have, in fact. They tend to feel uneasy whenever Jason makes his grim jokes. 

And perhaps that’s exactly why he does it. 

“Please, don’t talk like that,” Dick says softly, furrowing his eyebrows. Then, he changes his demeanor completely. “And yes, I do. Here lies Gotham’s hottest piece of ass. S.I.P.”

Jason gives him an unimpressed look, lifting his eyebrow. “S.I.P?”

His brother smiles as if he was dying to be asked that. “Sashay in peace.”

“Hope you make a safe passage, disco queen.” Jason deadpans. “Make sure to head straight to heaven, though. Don’t wanna put up with your glittery ass in hell, too.” 

Dick seems to suddenly remember why he was there in the first place. He grabs his younger brother by the shoulders, and shakes frantically. “This is serious, Jaybird! What now? I’ll lose my ‘favorite brother-in-law’ privileges!”

Jason kisses his teeth in annoyance, immediately releasing himself from Dick’s grasp, and pushing on his chest with zero delicacy. “You never had those.” 

Anyone other than Dick — and Bruce — would’ve splattered themselves on the cushions at being on the receiving end of Jason’s hard shove. But his older brother only tilts back, and recovers his posture like a roly-poly toy. An impressive display of sheer core strength.

“Yes, I did. I do. Remember her last seminar? She only had one other seat aside from yours, and she chose to invite me.” He points at himself, sounding smug. “And what about the wine she got me from her trip to France? Or the tequila from Mexico, huh?”

“The others aren’t old enough to drink.” Jason points out, groaning as he massages his temples. This conversation is getting tiresome. Baby, where are you? He thinks in exasperation. Dealing with his family outside patrol is easier when you’re right next to him.

Dick freezes, his index finger lifted in the air. 

He lowers it, closing his mouth. 

Then, he raises it again, attempting to hide his wounded pride. 

“That’s not the point! The point is—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Jason cuts him off, waving impatiently before he adds dryly, “too late for that, though. Replacement joined her Public Health research group last month. She’s invited him to dinner at our place twice now, unfortunately.”  

There’s a shocked gasp. 

“Not to mention the little demon asking her for help with his school projects, even though everyone knows he’s damn well capable of handling himself.”

An even bigger gasp leaves Dick’s lips, this time followed by a dramatic hand to his chest.

Jason rolls his eyes. “Will you fucking stop?”

“I need to amp up my game. Urgently.”

“Good luck with that. Not sure you can—”

Jason’s interrupted by the sound of the doors opening. The scowl on his face immediately dissolves into a relieved look at your return. Meanwhile, his brother appears as if he’s staring at a ghost.

You smile, tipping your head up. “Hey, Dick! What’s up?”

“Heeey, bestie!” He shoots up from the couch, sounding extremely unnatural as he glances at the watch on his wrist. “I–um.. Damn! I gotta pick up Babs at her friend’s house now. See you guys later!”

With a quick kiss to your cheek, he breezes past you and out the doors like he’s suddenly been possessed by Wally West.

“What was that?” You turn from the door to your boyfriend, giving him a puzzled look.

Jason contemplates for a brief moment whether he should tell the truth or not. More out of concern over you, as he’d hate to upset you, than over Dick’s sake obviously. But if you found out later that he knew about this fuckup, he’d join his brother’s body in the graveyard. And Jason is very much enjoying his second chance at life right now.

“Dick ruined your Sergeant Pepper’s record.” Just as predicted, he doesn’t feel the slightest bit of remorse for snitching on his older brother. Jason wishes he’d broken the news in a better way, but he let his eagerness for throwing Dick under the bus override his judgment.

Much to his surprise, you don’t show any expressive reaction aside from the slight purse of your lips. 

“You’re talking about the scratch?” You ask simply, joining him on the burgundy couch as he opens an arm to envelop you in a half embrace.

He tilts his head to rest against yours. “You’ve seen it already?”

“It was there before he got it. Probably happened during my last move out.”

“Oh. Oh.” 

“Poor Dick. I told him my grandma loved that record… He must be feeling like trash.” A sigh escapes your lips as you lean against Jason’s chest. “You should probably tell him when he comes back.”

“Baby, I’m not telling anything.” Jason laughs wickedly, taking your hand in his large one and bringing it up to his lips. The tender kiss offers a stark contrast against the disapproval in his tone. “Serves him right for not being watchful enough.”

“You’re so evil, Jace.” You tilt your head up, so he can see the playful glint in your eyes. “There’s no place for you in heaven, you know that, right?” 

Jason eyes you in disbelief. “Are you planning on telling him?” 

The pressing of your lips together is already enough to answer him – a futile attempt to conceal a mischievous smile. 

“That’s what I thought.” He pulls you to sit sideways on his thighs, arms tightening around your waist as he leans in to kiss your neck. Lips lingering there as his voice lowers in a way that makes you shiver when he says, “guess we’ll both be sharing Satan's throne as you sit on my lap in hell, baby.” 

A/N: I wanna be Jason's boo, and Dick's bestie so bad y'all!!

Remember to reblog, and let me know your thoughts if you liked. It helps me stay motivated to post on here <33

divider is from here

[stxrslutrestored]

DIDN'T GIVE UP

pairing; postrehab!rafe x sweetie reader

summary; after getting out of rehab, rafe is desperate to be intimate with you, so it feels like his whole world falls apart when he’s unable to arouse himself. but with plenty of commitment and a promise not to give up, he finally manages to succeed, even if it’s not in the way that you’d both wished for 

content; talk of addiction and rehab, brief mention of overdose, erectile dysfunction, masturbation, handjob

authors note; re upload!

you hold rafe’s hand as you both walk inside. tonight has been so special, your first date since rafe got out of rehab. it had been intimate and quiet and comfortable. a lovely meal at the local gourmet restaurant filled with gentle loving touches had left you both wanting more, a more that neither of you had had for a while.

even before rehab, rafe had just stopped having sex with you. you’d thought you might get somewhere but then the od happened and he’d needed to go to rehab which meant you didn’t even see him for months. 

you’re both so touch starved, no words need to be spoken before you’re both making your way up to the bedroom, kissing and fumbling with each other’s clothes, quickly and desperately.

“god— missed you so much,” he murmurs, hands on your hips as he backs through the bedroom door, turning and kicking it shut like he always used to when you first started sneaking around together.

you moan softly “me too. missed you rafe.” one of your hands wraps around his neck and the other comes down to palm at him through his pants, his bulge is noticeable but he’s not hard yet. you undo his zipper and touch him through his boxers.

you both move back towards the bed and you pull his dick out, taking it in your hand and starting to jerk him off, but you both notice something. that something being nothing, nothing is happening. his dick isn’t doing anything. 

rafe frowns and you do the same, both of you look down as your hand keeps moving for no reaction. after about thirty seconds rafe steps away, “shit I– I didn’t know that would happen.” he rubs the back of his neck, “shit… shit.” 

you step forward and place a hand on his arm, “oh rafe… hey I’m sure its normal.. you did just get outta rehab,” you try to pull him to look at you but he doesn’t, he stares straight at the floor and shrugs you off.

“no… I.. this happens when I’m high not– I’ve been sober for two months.” he exaggerates, you can hear his voice beginning to break. you had considered that this might be an obstacle but you weren’t expecting him to react like this, surely all it’s going to take is a bit of trial and error until he can get it up with as much ease as he used to.

though you suppose this must be hard for him. finally getting some normality back and he can’t even properly enjoy it. and you know how much he hates to feel emasculated. maybe it is a big deal for him. even though it’s not guaranteed to happen yet, the imminent possibility must have shocked him into a panic. 

that’s fine, you’ve dealt with rafe under much more serious circumstances.

you step forward, more confident now that you have an idea of what the problem is and how you can solve it. “rafe, sweetie don’t panic,” you speak gently, “we’re gonna sort this out okay?” 

rafe looks down at you, “sorry– sorry I’m.. just wasn’t expectin’ it..” he scratches the back of his neck, looking down at his uncovered self. you nod, understanding his distress.

“that’s okay, it was a surprise huh?” you stroke his arm gently, “you wanna try again?” you ask gently and he nods shakily, taking a calming breath before letting you guide him to the bed. he sits down first and then you climb on after him, straddling his lap and quickly managing to retain the mood you were in before.

you grind down a little and his hands come to your hips to help your movements like he normally would but he’s quickly letting out an agitated noise and pushing you off. “it’s not working,” he groans in frustration. 

you pull yourself up to sit next to him. your hand comes to his chest, “oh baby,” you coo as you notice the tears welling in his eyes that he’s so obviously trying to hold back. in his mind not being able to get aroused is bad enough, crying would just make him pathetic. 

“what do you wanna do huh?” you pry, stroking his chest now and coming up to kiss his shoulder. “I’m sure that there are things we can try… it’s only been a couple of minutes.” you try to reassure him but you’re pretty sure he’s going to be inconsolable until he can feel confident in himself again. in his mind, a couple of minutes should mean you’re already halfway through round two.

“I– I don’t understand,” he sniffles pitifully, not daring to make eye contact with you as he instead stares down at his completely motionless dick. “this wasn’t supposed to happen anymore.. I- I got sober.” 

you kiss him again, “you did baby, you got sober,” you smile sympathetically, “and this is normal, its normal to have erectile dysfunction after stuff like this.” though that reassurance sets him off more.

“don’t– don’t call it that,” he snaps ever so slightly, shoulders tensing and momentarily shrugging your hand away, “I don’t– I can’t have a dysfunction, okay it’s– it’s gotta work.” his voice breaks just a little.

you nod, “okay… okay then we’ll make it work, okay?” you move your body so that you can look him in the eyes, you bring your hand up to cup his face. “you just tell me what you need, okay? we can do whatever you want, whatevers gonna help you.” 

he thinks for a moment, you can see the cogs in his brain turning behind his eyes as he tries to find something that he thinks may help him. his lips are parted and his cheeks are slightly pink. he eventually seems to come to a conclusion, he hesitates for a moment before speaking tentatively, “can uh.. can I try doin’ it myself?”

you nod, “yeah, course baby.” you smile, proud of him for being able to articulate his need, “where do you want me? should I give you some privacy or–” 

rafe shakes his head, “can you stay,” he asks, “please… just.. I really need you to be here.” he tries to avert his eyes, he’s embarrassed, you can tell, he reeks of humiliation and you wish that you could just take it away from him. after all that he’s been through in the past few months you feel this is the last thing he deserves. 

“I’ll stay here,” you affirm, “I’ll stay here as long as you need okay? you just do whatever you need to do.” you move with him as his hand comes to grasp yours whilst the other supports him while he shakily manoeuvres himself to half sit half lay against the headboard. 

you stay on the edge of the bed, keeping a hold of his hand as that is evidently what he wants you to do. his chest rises and falls slowly as he pushes his pants further down and then gently grasps his soft dick. 

he begins to move tentatively, doing his best to throw his head back and not think about it. you stay quiet, just letting him figure it out for himself. 

he manages to get it up, a little, you notice a look of clear relief on his face as he relishes in the sensation he’d worried that he wouldn’t get back. his movement quickens and then his face falls as he loses it.

you stroke his thumb with your own, “it’s okay baby, just take your time.” you murmur softly as his face scrunches up in annoyance. but he perseveres, hand going back down to try once again.

he tries, he really tries. he tries so many times, over and over again, and to both of your increasing dismay he keeps losing it over and over again too. 

poor rafe, tears slip down his cheeks and he groans from sadness and surely a little pain at the fact that he’s basically rubbed himself raw down there. his tip is pink and angry, you have half a mind to tell him to stop but you fear he may hurt himself more if he can’t manage or stop on his own terms. 

he huffs sadly. he knows he needs to stop too, “just– just one more try.” he says, “one more.” he nods decisively before looking up to you, almost as if to ask for your blessing to just try one more time. 

of course you nod, “yeah, one more time. you’ve got this rafe,” you tell him, squeezing his hand reassuringly with a loving smile, hoping to encourage him to finally get it. 

rafe starts again, slowly at first and then he builds up his movements, it takes a long few minutes but he manages to get himself hard, fully hard. he grunts and groans and you have to stop yourself from slipping a hand under your own underwear so as not to distract him from his moment. 

after another long few minutes he practically cries out, then whimpers and then tears of relief fall down his cheeks as he finally cums. it’s not a lot, and it doesn’t last long, but it does him good. the feeling simply overwhelms him and he finally feels reassured that he can be normal again.

once he’s ridden it out you wipe the tears from his cheek with your free hand, “hey.” you smile down at him, “well done, you did so good.” you speak gently, “I’m so proud of you, you didn’t give up.” 

rafe smiles, his previous humiliation replaced with pure bliss and relief, “yeah,” he nods, sighing breaths of relief, “didn’t give up.” maybe this evening didn’t go exactly as expected, but you think, with the circumstances, it turned out okay.

[jilixthinker]

gross freak

͟͟͞♡ jisung × fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

warning: sub!jisung, dom!reader, kinda gross jisung, established relationship, masturbation (m rec), cock/balls slapping, jisung is gross but they are so in love

=͟͟͞♡ please consider reblogging if you like my works!

“Honey, I'm home!"

Jisung is kicking off his white sneakers in front of the door. They're a bit stained with mud on the sides, and he knows he’s not allowed to step inside the house wearing those unless he wants to hear your voice reverberating through the apartment. He's still wearing his soccer gear, tiny red shorts with a white stripe down the side, cut just above the knee, and a white tank top that you're sure he wore for the training as well. It's 10 p.m., but it's still warm outside, and the white fabric sticks uncomfortably to Jisung's slim body, a few yellow sweat stains under his armpits. 

His hair is still damp from the running, tied in a bun. A red hairband is pulling back his greasy locks from his forehead. He hasn't changed that in at least two weeks.

"Idiot," you chuckle in response, "how was it?"

"Uh, fine I guess" Jisung answers while kicking off his grayish, damp socks along with his shoes, "Changbin-hyung fell and ate a bunch of soil, I laughed so hard I peed my pants" he snorts.

"You all act just like children," you reply with a giggle, "I'm glad you had a good time. Are you hungry? Have you had dinner yet?"

"I ate a burger with the boys . It was huuuuge, baby. Can still feel it moving in my stomach," he replies as he finally enters in the living room delivering his signature goofy smile. 

You smile as you see him patting his tummy. Jisung is very thin, almost borderline unhealthy, but a small layer of fat sits stubbornly below his belly button, and it doesn’t go away despite all of the physical exercise. Jisung says it’s okay, that he doesn't mind. But you, you love it.

"Good. You didn’t take a shower there, did you?" you ask stretching your legs on the couch and pausing the show you were watching. 

"Nah, I didn't feel like it. I'll do it in a while." Jisung answers while opening the refrigerator and fishing out a can of sprite. He opens it with gnarled fingers and brings it to his lips, chugging half of it in one big gulp. 

"Ew, Sungie" 

Jisung widens his eyes in fake shock and leans against the peninsula of the kitchen. "Ew? To the love of your life? Your boyfriend, your future husband, the apple of your ey-"

"Enough of this," you laugh as you come closer him, leaning across the peninsula. "I could count the grease stains on your hands if I wanted to. You're dirty."

"Mean," Jisung whispers drinking the other half of the sprite and hiding a burp with one fist. "I thought I'd come home and get a better treatment than this."

You burst out laughing at his words. "Uh, did you have plans? What did you expect big boy, tell me." 

Jisung chuckles again and you can see a bit of burger sauce pooled at the corner of his lips. 

"Uhh, dunno. A massage, maybe? Showing your baby you love him?”

You laugh, "You want a massage? Come here, that can be arranged." You take a couple of steps back and sit on the couch, on the peninsula side, so you can stretch your legs. Jisung looks at you with a lopsided smile and brings a hand to his head, scratching behind his ear. You can see from a distance the oily strands of hair slipping through his fingers. You should find it disgusting. You really should.

You open your arms and offer him a big smile, "Come on, baby. You must be dead tired, hmm? The boys destroyed you. Come to mama, I'll give you what you need."

Jisung gulps and giggles, wobbling closer to you and letting himself fall into the space between your thighs, abandoning his back against your chest. Then he lets himself slide forward a little, pressing the nape of his neck against the softness of your breasts under the shirt you're wearing.

"Uh, uh. That feels nice already," he murmurs adjusting himself against your chest.

"Have you had some drinks?" you ask, bringing your hands to his shoulders and pinching them lightly. The fabric is damp and smells of sweat and the spray deodorant Jisung always puts on when he doesn't feel like showering.

"Just a couple of beers with Chan-hyung," Jisung sobs as soon as your fingers sink lightly into his muscles, "that man needs to get laid."

"Don't be cocky, Sungie," you reply with a grin as your hands descend to work on the muscles in his arms, "if it wasn’t for me, you'd be jerking off to one of your tacky porns as well. Be grateful I picked you up on the streets and decided you would be mine."

Your words are light, he knows you are joking. Even though, to tell the truth, Jisung was a virgin before meeting you, and the first time you had sex he was so nervous he came before he even managed to put the tip in. Adorable.

Jisung laughs and then he lets out a breathy moan when you run your fingers up between his shoulder blades, focusing on a knot. "That’s true. But now he’s the one jacking off to a shower wall. While me, I have a beautiful girlfriend who decided I was good enough to be adopted. I still am thankful for your bad taste in men." 

"My taste in men is great, excuse you," you retort as your chin rests on his head, near the band that pulls back his hair. "I pulled the nastiest hottest boy around. I regret nothing."

Jisung laughs. "You literally call me your rat." 

"Rats are cute," you answer back piquantly. Your fingers continue to work on the knot in Jisung's back with a little more insistence. Jisung writhes softly. "You just call me that because I'm a little gross."

You lower your head to rest a kiss on his greasy hair. There's gel residue on the strands, and it's a bit crusty.

"You know how much I love that you're a little gross. Makes me feral."

"You're a freak." Jisung laughs as your hands finish massaging his shoulder blades and descend to the front, down to his chest, to caress his sore pecs.

"Maybe," you admit. "Tell me how many beers you've had again. Just the truth this time, hmm?" 

"Five. Or six. Maybe six. Ah-" Jisung gulps when you brush your thumb on his pec, grazing his nipple. "Feelin' a bit tipsy." 

"I know, my love," you whisper as you continue massaging his chest with your fingers. Jisung's head is nestled perfectly between your breasts and you feel his ribcage swell and deflate quickly, like a baby bird. "You're all wriggly. You just can't sit still when you feel good, hmm?"

Jisung laughs embarrassed before letting a faint moan out when your fingers pinch his nipple again, more insistently. “Not fair though, you're t-teasing."

You nod a few times as your face descends to his ear, kissing the skin behind it, where you know that acrid, powerful smell typical of Jisung accumulates. “As if you didn't have a different kind of massage in mind from the beginning. Don't lie to mama, Sungie."

Jisung shakes his head tentatively, “I wasn’t trying to imply any of that”.

You chuckle at his words, bringing your mouth to his earlobe and nibbling at it. “Now say it again without drooling over yourself, mh?”

Jisung hiccups and goes limp against you, giving you enough space to keep nosing at his neck. A little bit of saliva is bubbling out of his parted lips, forming a shiny coat on his skin and you just wanna suck it off.

“Well, maybe. M-maybe just a little,” he grunts while the tip of your tongue brushes on the shell of his ear. “You’re mean for real.”

“Don’t call me mean when I’m about to jack you off, Sungie. That’s just ungrateful, don’t you think?” you whisper on his skin, breathing the sweet smell of his body in. Even his sweat kinda smells like beer. That’s disgusting and hot at the same time. Maybe you’re a freak after all.

“Oh. Oh. We’re… we’re doing that? Fuck, yeah. Suuuure, cool.” And then he lets out the nervous squeak he does everytime you’re about to touch him. It doesn’t matter it’s been years, he never gets used to you been enough attracted to him to give him pleasure even if he’s dirty. But, to be fair, Jisung is always kind of dirty.

You smile against his skin and your fingers find his nipple again, rolling it between your pointer and thumb over the fabric of his top. Jisung keens at that and you can feel the goosebumps forming on his arms under you.

“Wanna kiss. Give Sungie kiss first? Can you? Please?” He blubbers while your other hand is caressing just above his navel. He turns his face to look at you, and the angle is weird because he needs to force himself in this position, but his cheeks are flushed and cute, and his eyes so big you can almost see your own reflection in them.

The first kiss on his lips is just a peck, nothing else, and you can feel that Jisung tries, he tries so hard not to be affected too much this early, but as soon as you place your mouth on him and start to nibble lightly at his bottom lip, he lets out a broken whimper. He tastes like alcohol and ketchup, and his teeth are all sticky for the sprite he just chugged. You find yourself forcing his mouth open just after a few seconds just to be able to lick at them, feeling the sugar on the tip of your tongue.

“You’re so filthy, Sungie. You’re delicious.” You tease him a bit while sucking his own wet muscle into your mouth and slowly pulling it between your teeth.

Jisung lets out the quietest yet painful moan, "Ah- please, I just...", and he starts parting his thighs just a little bit, the tiniest movement showing how he is growing hard under his pants.

You look down and he is just the prettiest, all spread out for you.

“Never denied you anything,” you mutter as you scoot forward on the sofa to place a last peck on his lips. They’re a bit chapped, and a drop of blood stains your mouth.

Jisung’s head falls back on your chest, nuzzling between the comfort of your breasts, and he looks wrecked already. His eyes are teary and his vision fuzzy while his lips pucker, as if he was trying to suck on the air.

“Fuck, you’re so cute. Wish you had something on your mouth, uh?” you ask him as your left hand puts and end to the lazy massage on his lower stomach and finally cups him through his pants.

Jisung is fully hard already but, to an untrained eye, the two inches tent his erection is struggling to maintain makes him look like he’s just sporting half of a chub.

“Uh, uh - yeah, w-wanna suck please,” he manages while your hands goes a bit lower to graze his balls. “Please, mama- gimme anything.”

“Oh, Sungie, don’t beg,” you whisper kissing the tender skin of his ear one more time. Jisung’s soft sobs always make you feel lightheaded and needy, but you cannot show him. Not now. “Mama’s gonna give you fingers, mhkay?”

Jisung nods and parts his lips as a pavlovian response to your words, his tongue lolling out diligently out of his mouth. Your pointer and middle finger pinch the fat of his bottom lip and he moans softly at the teasing. When you finally ease your fingers inside of the heath of his mouth, Jisung lets out a weak cry. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” he gurgles around your digits as an indecent amount of spit oozes out and coat your palm.

When you look over his shoulder, you can see the shape of Jisung’s tiny cock angrily pointing at you, still covered by his shorts. The red fabric is somehow already wet because Jisung is always eager and leaky, and what he lacks in size he makes up in liquids.

“How many minutes today, Sungie? How much can you last for mama?” you ask, tone sticky and sweet while you thrust your fingers deeper inside his mouth and brush at the base of his tongue.

Jisung chokes on the pressure and a single tear escapes from his eyes. His cock twitches and you pat it condescendingly. “Aw, poor thing. How much? Two minutes?”

“Uh- mhhf sowy” he hiccups, mouth full of fingers and saliva, “sorry, I’m not..”

You smile and you finally wrap your free hand around his balls, squeezing it. “Don’t worry, baby. Mama gets it. Wanna come already uh?”

Your face finds its way against the crook of his neck and you lick a fat portion of skin, sucking it into your mouth. He tastes like soil, dirt and sweat. But most importantly, it tastes like Jisung. Like fried food and soda, mint cigarettes to cover the smell of unwashed teeth, ingrown hair and blemishes, acne and cum.

You bite on that sensitive spot and he sobs the most pathetic whimper out as your hand slaps his clothed cock once, twice, thrice, and your fingers go deeper and deeper, almost brushing his uvula and making him drown on his own spit.

“So-oh-sorry” he cries as his cock spasms one more time under the constriction of two layers of clothes. His knees shake and he lets out the most loud and sinful noise his voice lets him. His hips tremble with the force of his orgasm and he goes completely limp against you while spurting warm ropes of cum inside of his sweaty underwear. His eyes are glassy and full of tears while he empties himself for what it seems to be a full minute. He always cums more than he lasts anyway.

You hold him close through it as his high washes over him, arm tight around his waist, and you kiss his cheek, savoring the salt on his skin.

After a minute, Jisung turns his head in search of your reassurance, and he finds you already looking at him, your fingers falling out of his mouth to let him breathe properly.

“Well, that was a record” you chuckle at the sight of his goofy smile.

Jisung huffs and rolls his eyes at you. “I said- I said I had a few beers. That’s why.” He tries to justify himself.

You wink at him and you blow a raspberry on his nose. He always try to be the bigger man, but it never works.

“Whatever you say,” you concede. “Go change your underwear now. And take a shower.”

Jisung lazily shakes his head. “Nah. Too tired. Imma do it later.”

“You’re gross, Jisung.”

“And you’re a freak.”

©️jilixthinker, 2024. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

There's Eddie and then there's you, who has moved into the trailer park. Eddie discovers this one morning and proceeds to make an ass of himself. Features cute and flirty Eddie.

Or alternatively Eddie spots you while he's rushing to get to his van for school and nearly knocks himself out.

Eddie has no game but he tries, sweet Eddie.

🖤

Eddie doesn't pay much attention to the new family moving into the trailer park. He's too focused on getting a song prepared for Saturday at The Hideout, alternating that with writing in his notebook, poring over ideas for a new Hellfire campaign.

Wayne pokes his head out of the trailer door, he's clutching cups of coffee for them both. Eddie's coffee is in his favourite mug- the Garfield one that Wayne bought for him when he first moved in with him many moons ago.

He gulps the coffee down, almost burns his tongue at the scalding temperature then swears when he realises what time it is. Shit shit shit. He's already late for school, he's determined to graduate this year so no skipping any boring shit no matter how much he wants to.

It's when he's climbing inside his van that he realises he's forgotten his essay for Mrs O'Donnell's class, it took him long enough to write the shit. If this was about D&D or metal music or any one of the fantasy novels he loves then he'd ace it, but it's not and he's not interested in another fucking love story.

Honestly, he wouldn't put it past the old dragon to fail him if he forgot the essay and he can't use the excuse that a dog ate it- that got him a week's detention last time.

It's then that he sees the trailer door open that's not far from Mayfield's house and he's not seen who's moved into the new trailer so sue him, he's curious and looks over.

You can imagine his surprise when he catches a hint of a cheerleading uniform then you peer up at him, the momentum as he runs or if he's being honest tries to strut and the fact he's gawking at you causes him to trip over his feet and he nearly knocks himself out on his van door and sprawls on the ground.

"Jesus h Christ" he growls and he cringes that he almost knocked himself out because he was hawking at a pretty lady. Smooth Munson. Real smooth.

"Are you alright?" Suddenly you're beside him, kneeling in the grass and peering over him anxiously. He thinks he might have died and he's now in heaven because your fingers are in his hair and you murmur that you're checking for blood.

"Beautiful" he thinks to himself but then he realised he said it out loud and a pink blush coats his cheeks. You bite your lip and a sweet smile blooms on your face.

"Okay, I think you've definitely hit your head" You grin at him and his heart is fluttering, racing like a hummingbird's wings. Fuck, he has no game when it comes to women, usually he tries to make them laugh or makes an overdramatic fool of himself.

But this right now with you? this stumps him and makes him nervous. Eddie was rarely nervous, perfecting a don't give a fuck demeanour over the years but one look from you and he's putty. Feels shy and tongue-tied, he can't remember the last time he was ever tongue-tied.

Trying very carefully not to make an ass of himself he gets up and takes a bow which makes you giggle. "Eddie Munson at your service princess"

"I know. Your reputation precedes you, Eddie, though you're nothing that I thought you'd be like" he smiles impishly, knows exactly what you mean.

"Mmm, mean, scary and is known to make Jason Carver piss his pants" You snort and nod, eyes lighting up and he's eager to hear your sweet laugh again.

Maybe you have some jock boyfriend who would kick his ass for flirting or talking to his girl but at this moment he could not give a shit.

"Yeah and I didn't expect you to almost knock yourself out just because you looked at me" there's a shyness to your tone and he shrugs.

"It's not often that I'm graced with someone who is so enchanting Milady" he teases but it's the truth at the same time and you

"Enchanting? I've never been called that before" you seem surprised that someone could think that about you and that pisses Eddie off. If you did have a boyfriend then he was the biggest jackass in the world if he didn't show you how special you were.

And he never thought there would ever be a bigger jackass than Jason Carver.

"I've never made a complete ass of myself and nearly gave myself a concussion in front of a girl before sweetheart, guess there are firsts for everything" he hides his smile with a lock of his hair, his heart rate spiking again at the look on your face.

"Should probably get going, I'd offer you a ride but uh I'm sure your boyfriend would kick my ass if I did that and you know you're from the dark side and Hellfire would lose their shit" he's disappointed he can't talk to you more but at least you live close, maybe you would speak again.

It's only when he realises that you've walked past him and you're waiting at the van door that he comes out of his reverie.

"The dark side? We're not in Star Wars and if I was I'd be Leia and kick the dark side's ass. Also it's good that I don't have a boyfriend so you can drive me huh Munson?" You wink at him and his brain short circuits.

No boyfriend. You just winked at him. He feels like a deer in headlights then promptly snaps out of it. Feels like he's the cock of the walk as he struts to his van.

He absolutely does not nearly trip over his own feet again trying to impress you with his suave strut. Absolutely not.

He does.

[dixons-sunshine]

The sound of muffled cries filled Daryl's ears. He stopped in his tracks and cocked his head to the side, trying to find the source of the sound he was hearing. He soon discovered that it was coming from Dale's RV, and against his better judgement, he walked up the steps and opened the door, hoping to figure out who was crying. However, he stopped in his tracks when he figured out who those cries belonged to.

They belonged to you.

The sound of feet shuffling caught your attention. You quickly wiped at the tears that fell from your eyes, hoping that you could shield your true emotions from the person's gaze, but you knew it would be to no avail. You simply sniffled and looked up, prepared to tell whoever that had entered to please leave you alone. However, your words got caught in your throat when you saw it was Daryl.

Daryl's cerulean eyes locked with your own eyes. He was awkwardly fiddling with his thumbs. He wasn't entirely sure what he had expected to do once he had found out who was crying in the RV. However, although his brother's voice rang through his mind, reminding him that “chicks crying was an automatic no” and that he should run, a strange feeling overcame him.

He wanted to kill whoever was causing you so much pain. Even though he logically knew that you could've been crying because of something else, something told him that it was your boyfriend, that Shane prick that made you cry like this.

“Ya alrigh'?” He mentally kicked himself for starting with that. You obviously weren't okay. He felt like a perfect moron.

You chuckled bitterly and shook your head. “Yep, I'm just peachy,” you told him with a fake smile. “But I'll be fine. Don't need you to worry about me. Go and do... whatever it is you do.”

Daryl knew that was your way of telling him to get lost. He didn't blame you; your last interaction with him hadn't exactly been all sunshines and rainbows. The two of you had formed a friendship that was blossoming rather beautifully, but then he had snapped at you, and he didn't blame you for not wanting him to pry into your life after that. However, he couldn't stop himself from saying what he said next.

“Want me to kill 'im?”

You looked up at him with confusion clear on your features. However, you quickly realized what he meant, and you decided to play along with the joke—what you didn't know was if you really wanted him to, he'd go through with it. “Please, or else I will. I can't have a murder charge on my record. How will I find a job?”

Daryl chuckled at your joke and shrugged. “I dun' mind takin' the fall, as long as ya visit me in prison.” He took a few steps further into the RV, getting closer to you with each step. “But seriously, what'd he do this time?”

“Lori's pregnant.”

Daryl didn't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out what you meant by that. He was painfully aware of the fact that Deputy Dick—as Merle had so affectionately nicknamed him—hadn't been able to keep it in his pants, and so were you, Shane's actual girlfriend. Daryl couldn't explain it, but the urge to stab Shane for doing that to you was strong.

“And,” you began, snapping him from his train of thought. “I finally broke up with him. I'm mostly relieved, but I'm also... I don't know. I mean, I dedicated four years of my life to this man. I didn't expect it to end like this. Hell, I didn't expect it would end at all. We had our fights, but I never once thought he'd do this to me. And now he got another woman pregnant, and I don't even know if Rick knows. If he doesn't, how do I possibly break this news to him?”

Daryl didn't know how to respond to that. He hadn't expected to have all of that dumped onto him. Feelings and comforting had never been his strong suits, so he didn't know how to make you feel better.

You laughed bitterly and shook your head. “I'm sorry for dumping all of that on you. Just forget I said anything.”

No, he wouldn't have any of that. He may not be able to comfort you, but maybe he could distract you. And after seeing the flowers in the vase on the counter, he knew exactly how.

“Ya know that Merle was really into flowers when we were younger?”

You scoffed in disbelief, but when you saw he was being serious, your eyes widened in disbelief and a smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. “Seriously?”

Daryl nodded. “I didn't know 'bout this until he was high one night. We were out on a huntin' trip and he had his nose all covered in some drug. He had jus' had a bad encounter with a boar he didn't kill properly. I was cookin' up some squirrel stew when Merle pointed out to a bunch'a flowers in the distance. “Do ya know what daisies represent?” he had asked me, real serious, too. Of course, I didn't know, so he told me, “They represent innocence, purity, but above all else? They represent new beginnings. We're gon' grab the bull by the horns and take the world by storm, lil' brother. They ain't ready for us Dixons, that's for sure.” Yeah, that was bullshit. Ain't much of our lives that changed.” Daryl cut himself off before he could ramble any more.

You smiled at him, your heart fluttering at the sight of his shyness. Was it just you, or was Daryl kind of stunning? “Daisies really represent that?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. I looked it up. It actually does. M'surprised Merle knew that, though, but I didn't bring it up. Merle would just deny it and give me one hell of a beatin' if I did.” Daryl took a flower from the vase—a daisy—and extended it towards you. “What m'trynna say with that whole story s'that the situation with Shane and Lori definitely sucks, but ya can't let it get ya down. Be like a daisy. S'yer opportunity to start fresh. S'yer new beginnin'. Dun' let this be yer setback.”

A few beats of silence passed. Daryl was beginning to think that he had overstepped his boundaries, and he was about to pull back, mumble a “sorry” and hightail it out of there. However, you finally took the flower from him and sent him a small smile.

“That's actually kind of wise. Thank you.”

Daryl shrugged and took a few steps back. “Ain't nothin'.”

“Whatever you say,” you told him with a small smirk. It soon turned into a more genuine smile, however, when you glanced down at the daisy in your hand. “I needed that. Just... thank you.”

A moment of silence passed before Daryl spoke up with his usual nonchalant demeanour. “Yeah, yeah. No need to get all mushy 'bout it. Jus' can't have ya mopin' 'round camp and bringin' the mood down.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “There's the Daryl I know.”

And for some reason, as you looked up at him, you realized that you wouldn't want Daryl any other way.

[dinodaweeb]

Living with a gangster

Mafia man x Gn!Reader

Summary: moments in your life when your weirdo of a boyfriend gets you both in the most randomness possible scenarios. You love him though

a/n: ummm ummm writing for now bc my Apple Pencil broke so yeah!!

You’re on the couch, unwinding after a long day. The soft hum of the TV fills the room as you kick your feet up, enjoying a rare moment of peace. That peace shatters the moment your boyfriend walks through the door, looking like he’s been through hell and back.

There’s even stains on his white pants. Gross.

Bruised, bloodied, and entirely too proud of himself, he barges in with a grin plastered on his face. “I brought you something,” he says, and there’s a certain cockiness in his voice that you’ve come to expect from him.

You turn to look, already knowing whatever he’s holding will be ridiculous. “What is it?”

You ask, trying to suppress the exhaustion from your voice.

With a flourish, he reveals a ragged, battered stuffed bear. Its fur is matted, and there’s a stain that could be blood—or maybe it’s just the bear’s battle scars. One of its eyes is hanging by a single thread.

“A battle bear,” he announces proudly.

You stare at it for a beat. “A what?”

“A battle bear. I had to fight a bunch of idiots to get it. It was a whole ordeal, but I thought you’d want it.”

You blink, deadpan. “So you got into a fight for a stuffed animal?”

“Yup,” he says, a little too smug for someone who just looked like they were hit by a bus. “It’s yours now. For protection, obviously. You’ll be safe with this thing. Like a bodyguard, but fluffier.”

You glance from him to the bear. “This thing looks like it’s seen better days. What kind of fight were you in?”

“It’s fine. Just a little blood. Nothing serious,” he assures, his grin widening. “So? Do you love it?”

You pause, still eyeing the mangled bear. “Sure, I guess. I don’t know if it’ll protect me, though. It looks like it’s seen as much action as you.”

He flops onto the couch next to you, snatching up the bear. “It’s a symbol of my dedication. Don’t downplay it.”

“You could do anything with it cry with it, cuddle, feed it, maybe even tell it about how much you love!”

“Nice try.” It’s just a thought but you are thinking he’s going to be the one to do those things.

It’s been a long day, and you were hoping for some peace. You’ve barely sat down on the couch when your boyfriend bursts in, completely out of nowhere, practically vibrating with excitement.

“I missed you!” he exclaims, then immediately starts some unholy combination of spinning, hopping, and awkward flailing. His hips are nowhere near Shakira’s level of shaking.

He’s rattling like a broken supermarket cart.

You stare at him, eyebrows raised. “What in the world are you doing?”

“This is my I missed you dance,” he says, spinning once again like he’s in some bizarre action movie. “It’s a tradition now. Every time I come home, I perform it to show my appreciation for you.”

You blink. “A dance?”

He nods, still twisting around, his limbs making chaotic, out-of-rhythm movements. “Yup! It’s a way of showing how much I care about you.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you say dryly, eyes narrowing as you watch him crash into the coffee table, almost toppling over the lamp. You can’t help but let out a sigh. “Are you done yet?”

He doesn’t answer, too busy still trying to perfect whatever this is. His leg kicks too high and knocks into the side of the bookshelf. He spins again, only to hit his elbow on the doorframe.

“You’re really not helping your case here,” you mutter, leaning back. “How exactly am I supposed to take you seriously when you’re like this?”

With a grunt, he halts his movements, standing tall like he just finished a perfect performance. “I’m a dangerous man, babe. Nobody could top this move.”

You stare at him, deadpan. “You’re a mess.”

He grins like he won the lottery. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You walk through the door after running a simple errand. But as soon as you step inside, you’re met with your boyfriend standing in the living room, hands on his hips, wearing a look of complete panic.

“Where have you been?” he demands, voice high and tight with concern. “I’ve been worried as shit.. Do you know how long it’s been? What if something happened to you? Like if a Mario cosplayer asked for your number? Or if my boss figures out we make passionate love in ghost face costumes?”

You stop dead in your tracks, surprised by the sudden wave of intensity. “I was gone for two hours. I was grocery shopping,” you say, already regretting not texting him sooner.

His expression doesn’t change. “Two hours? That’s two hours I had no idea where you were! You could’ve gotten hurt! Kidnapped! I could have sent the team after you!”

You blink, trying to process his frantic words. “It was just the store. I’m fine. I didn’t even leave the neighborhood.”

“But what if something happened?” He’s pacing now, completely ignoring the fact that you’ve been walking around the block for the last hour. “You could have been in danger, and I wouldn’t have even known! What if the old man that looks like Santa Claus down the steep seduced you?”

“What—“

“And was successful. Who am I to Santa? Nothing but a little elf whore…”

“Um.”

“Actually fuck Santa. He ain’t shit.”

“Okay.”

“Anyways, Do you want me to hire bodyguards?”

“I’m not a delicate flower,” you say, trying to stay calm. “You don’t have to act like I’m going to break if I leave for an hour.”

He stops pacing, suddenly pulling you into a tight hug, his arms firm but careful. “I know, I know. You once broke my back when we were roleplaying WWE. And in be—“

“Oi.”

“Besides! You’re my responsibility. I need you safe.”

You sigh, your annoyance melting away as his possessiveness becomes more endearing than aggravating. “You’re a freak, you know that?”

He smiles into your shoulder, his tone softened. “And you match it~”

You couldn’t deny that.

You’re lounging on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when you hear the front door open. Your boyfriend walks in, holding two absurdly oversized leather jackets with a grin that suggests he’s up to no good.

“Guess what I got!” he announces.

You glance at him, already sensing where this is going. “What now?”

“Matching jackets,” he says, looking far too pleased with himself for someone who just spent way too much money on something totally unnecessary.

You look at the jackets, confused. “Those things are huge. They’ll swallow me whole.”

“Nonsense!” He’s practically bouncing with excitement. “It’s part of the look. Look how badass we’ll look together. We’ll be like this power couple!”

You pull the jacket on, and it nearly engulfs you. You feel like you’re drowning in leather, and you can barely move your arms.

You glance at him. “This is a terrible idea. I can’t even lift my arms.”

He looks at you with a deadpan stare. “Exactly. That’s the point. We’re untouchable.”

You sigh, crossing your arms, trying not to let the ridiculousness of the situation break your composure. “You realize we’re going to look like two absolute try-hards?”

“Nope.”

He shrugs, unfazed. “I look hot. You look hot. Who cares about looking normal when you look cool?”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “We look like walking couches.”

It happens when you’re having an absolutely normal movie night. Popcorn, blankets, a chilled drink. Everything’s perfect. And then, in the middle of a dramatic scene, your boyfriend suddenly turns to you with a completely straight face.

“I killed someone today,” he says, his voice holding the same tone if he just did a wet fart. “45 years old. Kids. Pretty tragic, actually. But he had it coming. I mean he did—”

You freeze, popcorn halfway to your mouth. “Wait. What?”

He shrugs, clearly uninterested in your reaction. “Yeah, I mean, he was a threat. Had to be dealt with. He won’t be a problem anymore.”

“Are you… are you serious?” You blink rapidly, your mind struggling to catch up with what you just heard.

“Yeah, well, that’s gang life for you.” He leans back, popping a piece of popcorn in his mouth like he’s just told you about his day at the office. “It’s not all fun and games, y’know.”

You can’t form a coherent response, too shocked by the casual way he talks about murder. “You just… killed someone. And then sat down to watch a movie?”

He glances at you, unphased. “Yeah, and? We were supposed to watch this, right? Can we watch breaking bad next? Bald Walter is spank bank material.”

“Um ew.”

“Just don’t sweat the small stuff, babe.”

You stare at him in silence for a moment, the absurdity of the situation slowly sinking in. “You are the weirdest person I’ve ever met.”

“Thanks. I try.” He says it so casually, then immediately falls asleep like it’s just another day.

What the hell.

[imfinereallyy]

“Steve, it’s an emergency. I need to kiss you. Actually, I need you to kiss me. But I can’t just do it without asking because what if you don’t want me to, and I practically attack you? So yes or no? I swear it’s for a good cause.” Eddie comes running up to Steve in the bar, panting so hard Steve can see the chest movements.

They have taken Robin to a bar out in Indy to get her laid finally. Or at least a tongue in her mouth. The girl is pent up. And it’s Steve’s job as best friend to make that happen (Robin has told him to stop saying that, ‘it is gross’). Eddie is the only other queer person they know and, luckily, has made quite a few trips to Indy to know which bars were the good ones. He tells Steve that, like Robin, he is desperate to get laid, so this is the perfect opportunity.

Steve does his best to try and ignore the burning jealousy he feels at that. Eddie doesn’t know about his feelings (hell about his sexuality), and Steve is pretty sure Eddie doesn’t see him that way.

“Huh?” Asks confused, his brain struggling to process.

“Okay, I see you’re stuck on how to answer, but Steve—“ Eddie grips Steve’s shoulder, and Steve tries not to swoon. “—my ex, the extra shitty one, is here, and if he sees me alone I’ll either a) go home with him tonight and—“

Steve cuts Eddie off with a searing kiss. The thought of Eddie going home with someone else was enough for Steve’s brain to catch up to speed. Steve presses Eddie against the bar. The loud bass of the music suddenly becomes a light thrum in the background. All that he feels is the delightful pressure of their lips together. Eddie’s hands slide up into Steve’s hair as he gets pressed harder into the bar. Steve’s hands' grip Eddie’s waist and give them a tight squeeze. The idea of bruises being left behind, a mark of what they are doing here, makes Steve deepen the kiss. His tongue used to massage Eddie’s, tasting the menthol and rum on his breath. Eddie moans loud and heavy, vibrating Steve’s entire body.

“Eddie?” A voice interrupts them. Steve feels his anger spark back slightly but wills it down because the interruption is probably needed. They are very close to getting kicked out for public indecency.

“Oh hey, Ryan.” Eddie looks the blonde man up and down. He’s cute, Steve notes, but he lacked personality in his appearance. He isn’t what Steve expects from an ex of Eddie’s. He isn’t naive enough to think Eddie dates exclusively metal heads, but he expects someone to match Eddie’s energy. This guy—Ryan apparently—looks like every other guy you’d find on a Sunday in Supermart. Boring and lacking imagination.

“Who’s this?” Ryan looks at Steve pissed.

“Steve?” Eddie wraps an arm around his waist, bringing Steve close up against him. “This is my boyfriend.”

“This dude’s your boyfriend?” Ryan snorts. “C'mon baby, I know you can do better.”

Steve feels his anger finally pop. “He is not your baby. Yea, he can do better than both of us combine, but I’m lucky enough to get him. Now, you interrupted our time together, and we both know you saw what we’re up to, so don’t act like it wasn’t on purpose.”

Ryan startles backwards, “I—“

“Sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear. I meant leave the fuck right now.” Steve grits out, some of his Upside Down protection mode popping out. Ryan scatters quickly.

“Jesus, Steve, that was amazing. I’m sorry I had to make you uncomfortable with that.” Eddie’s eyes find his and cuts Steve off before he can protest and explain no, he really did like that “—and you never even let me explain reason b, by the way! Reason b is b) he would probably humiliate me in the middle of the club.”

Steve nods at Eddie but has one track mind at this point. He grabs Eddie by the face this time before crashing their lips together once again. This time Steve moans into Eddie’s mouth as they both get lost in the kiss.

Steve pulls back ever so slightly and talks directly into Eddie’s mouth, “Sorry. I think he’s still staring. Needed to do more.”

Eddie, with swollen lips and a kissed-out face, looks around the bar to find nothing. “I don’t see him anywhere.”

Steve smirks and pulls Eddie by his belt loops so they are flushed together. Steve leans into Eddie’s ear and nibbles at his lobe. “Hmmm, you’re right. I think he’s actually in the bathroom. Maybe we should kiss in front of him there.” Steve whispers hotly.

Eddie’s brain, which has short-circuited much like Steve only minutes ago, finally catches up. Eddie groans, his face collapsing into Steve’s neck. He licks a stripe up Steve’s neck all the way to his mouth. “Fuck. Yea, baby, I think I saw him too. Think kissing, though, won’t be enough. We might need to up our game.”

Steve nips at Eddie’s lips, “I was hoping you would say that. Guess I just know how much you love your games, Eds.”

They meet each other for one last searing kiss before rushing to the bathrooms to share a very tight, very heated stall.

[naturesapphic]

https://www.tumblr.com/naturesapphic/755752020343963648/if-youre-on-a-kick-for-writing-billie-stories I’m the anon who requested this and oh my GOD it’s so good, I turned feral reading it 😭 can we pretty please have a sequel? Maybe Billie tries to pull the same trick, but this time the reader wears a sundress without underwear because she’s expecting it, and they end up getting smutty in public even despite the risk to Billie’s career, because she just cannot *wait* till she’s home to use her favourite toy

Favorite toy

Billie eilish x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, strap-on, oral

Sequel: Billie’s teasing

Fixing your sundress, you headed down the stairs to see your girlfriend sitting at the kitchen counter putting on her hat that says “girls cum first”. “I’m ready baby. Where are we going again?” You asked her and she gives you a fake innocent smile. “I wanted some coffee and you’ve been talking about wanting to get some so I thought we could go there and just sit. It’s a small one so there’s not a lot of people there so hopefully no one will recognize me.” Billie said and you nodded.

“I’d love that baby. Lets go.” You said walking to the door and you “accidentally” dropped something so since Billie was in front of you, you purposely bent over to get. Billie’s eyes darkened as she saw your bare ass and pussy before her. She should have known something was up when you decided to wear your shortest sundress you own but unknown to you was that billie was packing. The two of you drove to the little deserted coffee shop near y’all’s house and Billie stepped out and ran to your side. She opened your door and you stepped out smiling at her.

“Thank you…daddy..” you whisper the last part in her ear and softly pulled on her lobe making her freeze in place. You took her hand and guided her inside, making sure you were shaking your hips to tease her further. It sure was working becuase Billie literally could not breath and she felt herself get turned on immensely. The two of you walked in the shop and Billie stood behind you, ordering for the both of you. As she was ordering she was behind you grabbing your waist so her pelvis was on your ass. You slightly whimpered as you felt her bulge against her ass and you whined quietly.

You were planning to tease her all day but you don’t think you could wait that long, you need her now and you mean right now. So when billie was done ordering you decided while y’all waited for your coffee that you would take her to the bathroom. You grabbed her arm and dragged her to the unisex bathroom meaning that it was only for one person. You pushed her in and immediately locked the door, when you looked behind you, Billie was looking at you like she was going to completely devour you. Billie pushed you against the door as she started leaving kisses all over your neck, running her hands up and down your waist.

She pushed up your dress to reveal your bare lower half and she moaned loudly. “Fuck…such a fucking slut Hm? Just wanted your pussy to be filled by me huh?” She said teasing you as she started undoing her zipper and pulled down her pants a bit to pull out her strap. She ran it up and down your soaked folds before pushing inside your throbbing pussy. You threw your head back and moaned at the stretching the fake cock was giving you and billie smirked against you. “You are being such a good girl baby…taking me so good…” she said lowly and you kept moaning.

A banging on the door scared the two of you but Billie kept fucking you. They kept banging on the door and Billie kept ruining you as She made sure that you were quiet by putting her hand over your mouth. The banging stopped and Billie felt you coming undone on her as she felt your cum on her thighs. “Such a good girl…come on. Let me clean you up and get our coffee.” She said sweetly as she pulls out of you slowly and puts you down. You stand on shaky feet as you fix your dress and wipe the tears that were in your eyes. Billie got some paper towels and gently cleaned you up, praising you along the way, telling you how much of a good girl you are to her.

You smiled and helped her clean up as well. After y’all presentable enough, you walked outside and went up to the counter to get y’all’s coffee. Some of the workers gave y’all glares while the others was blushing. The two of you didn’t pay any mind to it and went outside to the car, where the two of you sat inside for hours just talking until going home to spend the rest of the day together.

A/n: sorry I rushed this so much but I still worked on this for like HOURS LMAO so I hope you still like this anon and I hope the rest of y’all did too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all :)

[dimlylittorch]

sighhhh the silco brain rot is real. i need him like i need air. he’s on my christmas list.

My Masterlist🌱

Silco x transmasc!chubby!sweetheart!assistant!reader

extension of this drabble

this is very ‘by me, for me’😀 so reader may not cater to everyone, forgive my self indulgence. IT ENDED WITH ANGST I’M SORRY. THIS IS PART 1, THERE WILL BE MORE I PROMISE

You had been working for Silco for a few weeks now, and to be quite honest you liked your job. He treated you well, the pay was good, and considering you lived in Piltover it was nice to see a whole other world that you never knew much about.

Silco had taken a special liking to you- it was clear to anyone no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Let’s just say he liked to keep you on a short leash. He felt more comfortable when he had you at his side, more at ease. Of course, you were such a sweet little thing you never even noticed. He’s very nice to you- maybe he’s just a great boss, right?

He initially had planned on having you as more of a trophy, not really expecting you to do any real work. But much to his surprise you took your job seriously. On your first day you’d walked in with your own satchel bag, notepads and pens at the ready for whenever he needed you. Having people at his disposal was a common thing for him, of course. But having someone be so eager to work for him? It made his chest stir in ways he hadn’t felt in years.

When you were in the room, his eyes were always following. He couldn’t help it. You were like a swan surrounded by geese- you stood out beautifully compared to everyone else in the Undercity. Whether it be your topsider clothing or your kind features, it didn’t matter. You kept his gaze all the same.

One thing he adored about you was your clothing to be honest. Everything you wore was soft and clean, nothing like the others. You weren’t here to fight, so no need to dress like it, right? You were oblivious to how often he had to kick someone’s head in before walking back into his office to give you a faint smile and nod before discussing business. The first time you wore a turtle neck he swore his heart stopped. A brown turtle neck with earthy green pants and brown boots. When you saw the look on his face as you pulled your jacket off, you paused.

“I’m sorry- I meant to ask you if Earth tones were okay” you say softly, gaze laced with worry that you’d done something wrong. “I can go home and change if it’s not the office attire you had in mind-“ you start to say, but he quickly cuts you off.

“It’s fine.” He says simply, but his heart was hammering in his chest. “We don’t have a dress code.. just as long as you look nice.” I murmurs before he takes a puff of his cigar, trying to seem nonchalant- but in reality, he didn’t ask anyone else to look nice. Only you.

His words made a smile form on your lips, as sweet as always. “Of course- I think I can manage that.” You say sweetly.

He had gotten you your own desk in his office of all places. He always wanted you within arms reach if possible. Anything you requested he got for you. Although he had to make it seem like he was begrudging about it, in reality he had it ordered within a day.

You had been sitting at your desk, sorting a few papers into different folders before glancing over at him. “Do you think.. maybe I could have a filing cabinet?” You said softly, your voice quiet but he heard it clearly throughout the silent office.

“Whatever for?” He muttered with faux annoyance.

“Well- it would make keeping track of the files a lot more convenient. I can make them more easily accessible for you that way.” You say tentatively. “That is- if you plan on keeping me for long enough to set it all up.”

He’d tensed at your last words- the thought of you leaving making his blood pressure spike. “I’ll see what I can do.” Let’s just say you had a filing cabinet next to your desk the next day.

He’s always hesitant to have you do any work that involves you talking with other people. You’re not used to how rough they are, and he’d hate for his favorite little assistant to get dirtied by some street rat. He does find that you do well with his other workers. It’s often the same case as him- they have to maintain their image, so they act like they don’t like you. But in reality they do appreciate a non threatening presence every once in a while.

He had snapped at one of his men that were rude to you, even though you had simply smiled and taken it before making yourself scarce. He came up to you later and told you he’d ’handled it.’

“Assistant” he murmurs as he walks into his office, slamming the door behind him. You were sitting at your desk with your sleeve rolled over your hand, resting at the corner of your eye as you keep your gaze on your paperwork. You might’ve shed a tear or two.. who can blame you? These people were much scarier than you were used to. Silco certainly didn’t. He walks over to your desk, standing next to the filing cabinet and leaning against it while taking a puff of his cigar. “The moment someone has a problem with you, they have a problem with me.” He says quietly, his tone laced with a little layer of venom. “Be a good boy and let me know the next time someone misbehaves, hm?”

One night you end up staying in the office later than you had expected to, grabbing your bag and heading out the door. When you realize how late it is you hesitate, seeing how the streets were full of all kinds of.. people. Lucky for you Silco was just coming back from some business, raising and eyebrow when he sees you outside by yourself at that time of night.

“Assistant?” He questions quietly as he slips out of the alley way and into the light. You flinch slightly, but quickly relax and smile when you see that it’s him.

“How was your meeting?” You say sweetly as you stand in the doorway to his office, completely unaware that his ‘meeting’ was just settling a score or two.

“Business as usual” he murmurs as he moves to stand at the bottom of the small step. “And what, might I ask, are you still doing here?”

When he’s only a few inches in front of you, you feel your face flush slightly. You smiled wider, hoping he wouldn’t notice it. “I didn’t realize how late it had gotten.. I suppose I’ve gotten used to you kicking me out at quitting time” you chuckle.

“Hm” he hums as he glances around, noticing the stragglers wandering down the dark streets. “I’ll walk you home.” He speaks, leaving no room for argument. You couldn’t refuse, could you? So you simply followed him down the winding streets.

“I’m sorry to make you walk me all the way up there..” you murmur faintly as you both stroll along at a leisurely pace. It was easy to walk without fear when he was next to you.. no one would dare come up to you- or him, for that matter. “But I really do appreciate you.”

He doesn’t miss the way his heart skips a beat when he hears your words. ‘You.’ You could’ve easily said ‘I really do appreciate it.’ But you said ‘You.’ It drove him up the wall knowing how the smallest things you did and said made him feel like a teenager again. “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t walk you home..” he murmurs while taking a puff of his cigar.

And of course, his words make your heart skip a beat too. He could’ve easily said ‘boss’ instead of ‘man’. But he didn’t. He saw himself as more than your boss. You liked that. More than you thought you would. You felt stupid for letting yourself get worked up something so simple.

Once he’d walked you to the elevator that led up to Piltover, you both stopped at the door. Keeping your eyes downcast shyly, he couldn’t help but let his eyes trail over you, hands slipping into his pockets as he tosses his cigar and steps on it, oozing as much confidence as usual. It was hard to hide the way your cheeks were burning slightly. When was the last time a man was nice enough to walk you home?

He knew you’d be safe from here.. no sense in going up with you. He starts to turn away to slip back into the dark streets, but before he can you grab his arm, keeping him from leaving. He tenses, slowly looking over his shoulder to meet your eyes, his eyebrow raising questioningly.

When you realize what you’d done you quickly let go of him, but not before straightening out the sleeve of his shirt. “I’m sorry.” You say quickly. “I just-“ you add, trying to think of something reasonable to say. When you can’t think of anything.. you decide to settle for the truth. “You’re a really.. good man.” You say gently as your eyes meet his own.

The second you had grabbed his arm, every nerve in his body was on fire. You’d barely touched before, and it was something he didn’t know he needed so desperately. When he hears your words, he can’t help but stay quiet for a moment. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had said he was good, let alone complimented him. And your honesty? He adored. He didn’t know anyone that dared be honest with how they felt. “I don’t think you know me very well if you think that.” He says quietly, trying to make his voice uncaring. His eyes glance down at his sleeve where you’d just touched him.. he swore he could still feel your hands on him.

“You’re kind to me.” You say softly. “And you listen. You’ve never yelled at me- not to mention you walked me all the way over here..” you murmur.

He could hardly believe his ears. Yes, he had been especially nice to you. But for someone like you? That should all be the bare minimum. “Do you always get emotionally attached to your employers?” He snaps, taking a few steps away from you.

Your heart freezes at his tone, quickly taking a step back yourself. “I.. I thought-“

“Perhaps you should try to be an adult.” He says firmly as he adjusts his shirt where your hands had been. “Whatever you’re thinking- get it out of your head. I don’t pay you to think, do I?” He mutters coldly as he starts walking down the alleyway.

Leaving you standing there was one of the hardest things he’s done. He couldn’t show weakness. He couldn’t let you worm your way into his heart. But you already had. And he’d just ruined it all.

[kierahn]

yandere police officer x wanted criminal male reader :D?

A GAME OF TAG. [ y ! police officer x m ! criminal reader ]

yandere ! police officer x criminal ! male reader

warnings:

suggestive content (16+)

agressive handling from yan! officer

request/ask here.

a rushed update since i haven't posted in a while :] i have a long weekend ahead, i might be able to catch up with writing some of the piled up requests in my inbox.

× silas cromwell. it was a known fact to everyone in town that he and you were long-term rivals; like the two opposing sides of a coin. you were his favorite criminal. but you ? you didn't really like him that much; all snugged and smug in his police uniform. you were not one to get along with his kind too well.

× this game of cat and mouse between you and silas had been going on for about 2 years now. the young officer would always find himself facing a dead end everytime he tried to uncover your real identity. it was a pain in the ass for silas to chase someone he didn't know much about around.

× it was a frustratingly long chase, but silas would always find himself grinning at the thought of emerging as the victor of this game of chase you had started. little by little, his obssession with you grew.

× and, finally, he claimed sweet victory. what was more sweeter than having the most notorious mastermind himself in his grasp ? after 2 years of restlessly pursuing you, he finally had you on the tip of his fingers.

× "so what do you intend to do now, dear officer ?" the criminal asks smugly, his hands cuffed behind him and a blindfold taking away his vision as he sat on his knees before the officer. a delicious sight for silas to take in. "hand me over to the 'authorities' ? let their so-called justice deal with me ? tell me," you continued to prod him for answers, your smug smile never fading. oh, how he would love to break through that confident facade of yours.

× "i believe you don't fully understand, y/n." silas draws out after snapping out of his thoughts, standing before your kneeled form. a cold hand placed itself under your chin, sending a shiver up your spine. "i'm the authority. i'll be the one delivering justice." his voice dropped to a hauntingly low tone, holding a hint of threat that made something inside of you click.

× all this time, you've been the one in charge of leading the chase between you two; the one who was always on top of the game you yourself started. but now silas had taken the control out of your hands.

× "it seems like you're finally starting to realize," silas' voice started to move around you, your lack of sight heightening your sense of hearing. "GH–!" a harsh blow to your stomach causes you to slouch over in pain, a pained groan escaping your lips.

× you violently coughed, the harsh kick causing your breath to stop for a second. you pant heavily, drool spilling from your lips. for a flimsy officer like him, silas really knew how to use his feet to make it hurt. "that was very foul move, officer–" a cough, then a mocking laugh. "kicking down a defenseless opponent is completely unnecessary."

× a tug to your hair and a large hand encasing your cheeks tightly into a bruising grip. your laid-back attitude was starting to get on his nerves. why weren't you cowering in fear before him like he had expected ? you weren't taking him seriously at all.

× "y/n l/n, you have some nerve." you could sense that silas was very, very close to you with how his hot breath kissed the tip of your nose. however, you remained unfazed. you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you all vulnerable.

× but he would get his satisfaction either way. he always gets his way. "maybe we can find a better use for that pretty mouth of yours." his grip on your cheeks slightly loosened, his thumb glazing over your lower lip.

× "consider this my reward for winning this childish game of tag."

[lizzy019]

𝒲𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝑀𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝑀𝒶𝓃.

Dallas Winston x Inexperienced!Fem!Reader

Word Count -> 3K

cw -> BEST FRIENDS TO LOVERS TROPE, lots of cursing from dally >:(, movie Dally (not book Dally), kinda ooc but eh, mentions of wet dreams (for plot mwahaha), dirty talk from Dal, eepy reader, side fucking, ooo he falls asleep with his dick inside, lazy ending :C

Don’tcha just love him? I do :DDD It's so lazily done, I'm so sorry but pls do enjoy!

The hollering was loud as you rushed out of your home with just a backpack of belongings.

You hadn’t expected a fight to go this far. Yes, your parents weren’t the nicest, but kicked out until you “mature up”? You had never experienced this, nor were you ready to take a walk of shame over to Dally’s place for the evening.

You and Dally were practically siblings with how well you two knew each other. Bonded at the hips since you were both little, and it never changed. You had grown accustomed to his way of expressing friendship, through playful attacks and sharing of belongings. 

Dally may have been a bit tough when expressing his affections towards the people he cared for, but he still cared regardless. He believed tough love was the way to go.

The walk was pitiful, your feet were almost scraping the ground out of genuine disbelief. Thank God it was sunset, you still had some sunlight left to get you to Buck’s place so you could find Dally. Maybe he wouldn’t mind you staying over, a hangout, as he called it.

In just a throw sweatshirt and joggers, you hustled along the sidewalks to get to your destination a bit faster. The cool evening breeze wasn’t pleasant, but it kept you awake and kept you pacing.

The light of Buck’s building had finally come into view after you had walked a few more blocks, and the loud boisterous music hit your ears not long after the lights hit your eyes. You were relieved you had made it before the sun had fully gone down, heaven forbid men would know how to keep anything in their pants.

Scampering up to the front door took enough courage out of you, a lady like you in a wretched neighbourhood like this wasn’t fitting at all. But you were desperate, you were in need and Dally was your only go-to. Well, you could’ve gone to the Curtis’ household, but it was a bit more uncomfortable there because you knew less people.

Knocking with cold and clammy hands against the old door, you hesitantly awaited the arrival of Buck or someone else who heard your knock. Luckily the wait wasn’t long, after a few mere seconds the door was opened. A drunk man, not at all Buck, gave you the snarkiest expression you’ve ever witnessed and let you in. Graciously, you hurried inside.

The bustling people bothered you, especially so when you could see two people literally doing it on a pool table. Disgusting, you thought as you rushed through the swarms of chattering and dancing folk to the stairs that led to Dally’s apartment.

Shoes clomping against the wooden floorboards of the stairs, you found yourself questioning what his apartment room was. Was it the one on the left? No, it was the one on the right. Right? You flipped through your memories like files, and confirmed that it was on the left. Silly you. But you were still polite, knocking on the door quietly.

The door had swung open, and you were met with a waft of cheap tobacco and a wet Dally. Oh, he’d just gotten out of the shower. What a surprise, you thought he never showered.

“The fuck are you doin’ here? Why didn’t you call me? It’s fuckin’ dark outside, you dipshit.” He berated you even if it had no meaning, ushering you into his apartment and closing the door behind him.

His body glistened with water droplets that were scattered all along his shoulders and back, even his chest as the droplets were caught by the towel seated at his hips. Jesus, a sculpted body too. Wait, why the hell were you staring? That was too inappropriate! You mentally chastised yourself while kicking off your shoes and throwing your bag to the unswept floor.

The weight of the fact that your parents had actually kicked you out started to sink in, and the way your shoulders sank wasn’t really that hard to spot when Dally looked at you. Something was wrong if you had brought a bag and a saddened expression over to his place.

“The fuck happened? You good, or is somethin’ buggin’ ya?” He asked you, gesturing vaguely for you to sit on his aged mattress. You listened, of course you would, and sat consciously on his bed. He really didn’t mind changing in front of you, he just made sure his back was facing you so you didn’t see... the parts where the sun doesn’t shine. 

“Parents kicked me out, didn’t wanna go to Johnny’s or Darry’s...” You mumbled under your breath, holding in your breath as you looked at the floor to give him some privacy. After all, he was kind enough to let you into his place.

Dally gave a hum of acknowledgement, which may have been seen as rude, but it was really just him thinking. Going over to Johnny’s place didn’t make sense considering the fact that his parents were a bit too bitchy and cruel around people, and Darry wasn’t exactly fond of people sleeping over at his house. Sure, people staying for a while was more than welcome, but everyone knew that Darry was strict about sleepovers. 

“You’re such an idiot. What did you even do to get kicked out? Your parents are the chillest compared to all of ours.” Dally huffed, pulling on his joggers and drying his dark chocolate hair lazily with his towel.

“Dunno, they just said I had to leave until I “mature up” or somethin’.” You grumbled a bit angrily, not directed at him obviously, you were just confused and frustrated at your parents.

Dally nodded, putting out his cigarette on the ashtray and plopping his body beside you, smiling a bit as if to reassure you.

“Ah, whatever. You don’t need your parents when you got me, yeah? Now, what clothes did you bring? I doubt sleeping in tights is gonna be comfy.. especially considering how much you roll around.” He teased, knowing you needed at least a bit of humour to boost your mood.

And it worked. You smiled a bit, lightly punching his chest out of playful irritation from his comment. But you really couldn’t deny it, you could be a very active sleeper when you were stressed or angry. Frustration and sleep just didn’t mix for you.

“I brought some pajamas just in case, should I change now? It’s only 8.” You chuckled as he winced dramatically at your punch. Pfft, like you actually did him damage.

“Well, I’m tired now. So either you change and we can take a nap, or you can deal with me complaining about not sleeping until you decide to sleep.” Dally huffed, looking at you with a sleepy expression.

The words he spoke were about the only serene thing you’d heard all evening. No yelling, no obnoxious cars, just faint party music and Dally’s dulcet yet gruff voice. It was odd how comforting something as silly as that could be.

“Ugh, fine, you’re no fun.” You stuck your tongue out at him, earning you a playful slap to your arm as you hurried off of his bed to get your bag.

The bag sat limply against the wall near the door of his apartment, and you opened it swiftly to find your pajamas, but quite literally let your facial expression drop to utter disbelief. No, you surely hadn’t forgotten something as important as your night shirt! You scavenged disdainfully through the mess of stuffed clothes and beauty supplies in your bag in hopes of finding the shirt you thought you’d packed, but ended up looking at Dally with a sorrowful expression.

Dally looked at you with eyes displaying annoyed confusion, but seeing that little mopey frown on your face told him all he needed to know. You either forgot something, or remembered something important.

“What is it?” He questioned instinctively, looking at you through half lidded eyes as he propped himself up with one arm.

“I forgot a night shirt.. you think I could borrow one for t’night? Promise I’ll give it back.” You muttered, a bit embarrassed by your carelessness and forgetfulness. But nonetheless Dally chuckled a bit and nodded.

“Fuckin’ idiot. Yeah, the closet should have a few shirts. Don’t touch my leather.” He huffed, flopping onto his back and letting himself soak up some much needed rest.

You nodded and headed over to the closet, feet softly hitting the floor as you found his small closet. Already ajar thanks to his laziness, you searched through the hung clothes and stumbled upon a relatively clean looking shirt. A white one, not a stain on it either.

Taking your only pair of night shorts and the shirt you gratefully borrowed from Dally into his bathroom to change, you found yourself eyeing the soft fabric with gentle intent. Dally was kind enough to let you borrow something of his...

You pushed that thought down, instead focusing on getting out of the uncomfortable clothes you wore to look decent on the sidewalks. Taking off your pants to replace them with your night shorts, and taking off your top and bra to cover up with Dally’s shirt. It smelled like him, and it smelled strangely nice.

You took your leftover clothes out with you, chucking them mindlessly near your bag somewhere on the floor near the bed before plopping down dramatically beside him. The weight of you on the bed made it sink, and Dally was a bit startled out of his sleep when you did so.

Dally looked at you with a stink expression, but it was all playful.

“Good, now hush so I can sleep.” He muttered, throwing the blanket over the top of you two and sighing contentedly.

You just smiled and nodded, lying comfortably on your back to sleep just because you felt a little stiff in his mattress. But it was comfortable in all honesty, being warm and close to someone so close to you.

You were slowly jostled out of your sleep by a hand shaking at your shoulder. While you didn’t really want to move from out of your spot since you were oh so comfy under the warm sheets, the vigour in the shaking of your shoulder didn’t cease.

So begrudgingly, you gave a hum of acknowledgement to show that you were at least somewhat awake, and Dally’s voice was all you heard for a moment.

“Sweetheart, please... had a dream ‘bout you. Got me fuckin’ hard as shit. I’m askin’ nice.” Dally murmured, voice gruff and scratchy from the lack of use as he slept. You were almost awake, the mention of him having a dream about you didn’t spur much of a reaction from you.

“Mmh.. ‘m tired, Dal. Go to bed.” You huffed, rolling from your back to your side, back facing his front as you smushed your cheek into the pillow. 

But your words didn’t really help him, nor did it encourage him to stop. In a way, you turning to your side was meant to tease him. To egg him forward and see what he’d do. Dally wasn’t stupid, he knew you well enough to know a trick or two of yours would always come after a chastise.

So Dally’s hand came to softly hold your waist, caressing the skin as the shirt you borrowed from him rode up a little. Goddamn, those little bottoms you wore showing just the tiniest bit of your asscheek, the flesh threatening to drive him mad. How could you look so precious without even trying?

“Oh sweetheart.. you’re so perfect, so pretty. God, lemme take ‘em offa ya. Please? I’m askin’ nice.” Dally almost begged you, almost pleaded. While you didn’t expect him to ask so kindly, he was just doing it so you didn’t make him repeat himself. He was a smart man, thinking ahead the way he did. 

So you nodded, still happily sprawled on the mattress without a care in the world. And your nod was all it took for Dally’s hands to scoop under the elastic waistband of your sleepwear, and yank it down to your knees while pulling your underwear with it. The sudden coolness of his frigid fingers had you waking up a bit more, giving you some alertness as his hands freely squished the globes of your rear.

“Never knew under all the clothes, you’d look so pretty. Fuckin’ shit, you’re doin’ things to me that I don’t like.” A lie. Dally was happy diving into the feelings of admiration and want, the lustful desire to have your body, but also the soft blooming of love and adoration that even led him to this point.

“Mmh.. like what you see, Dal?” You questioned him teasingly, giggling sleepily.

“That’s a stupid question. ‘Course I do, now scoot closer. Too goddamn far away from me to do shit.” He grumbled a bit, moving his hand from your asscheek to slip between your legs and right next to your aching core.

You weren’t necessarily wet, you were tired and obviously weren’t in the right mood for this, but Dally was determined to make you feel good somehow. So his fingers gently spread your labia, and his index finger started twirling excitedly around the soft bud of your clit.

A soft sigh of contentment escaped you as his hand worked its magic on you. Now, you knew very well that Dally was an adventurous guy. Lots of his nights were spent with flings, or at the bars touching on the ladies that threw themselves onto him. Of course he would have experience, much more than you anyway. But how would he even feel if you told him you’d never done it? Would he reconsider?

But Dally was gentle with you, smoothing over your clit in repetitive circles as if trying to dizzy your clit. And it worked, really. Your hips, probably tired and sore, were meeting the soft ruts of his hand, enjoying how soft and sensual his movements were.

He was treating you like porcelain. 

“Feelin’ alright, sweetheart? Got my fingers soaked, think she’s gonna let me in yet?” He murmured exasperatedly into your ear, the warm air making your skin tingle with delight.

You smiled, eyes lazily fluttering open as you turned your head over to look at him a bit. How cute, pink cheeks and puffy lips paired with desperate eyes and furrowed brows. How could someone look so cute when they were so focused?

You giggled a bit when he called your pussy a she, but you nodded slowly.

“But Dal.. this is my first time. Y’sure you wanna take it?” You asked so softly, so serenely as you laid wrapped in his arms.

So soft, so gorgeous. Dally never felt such a tender feeling before.

Without any hesitation, Dally nodded his head vigorously and smiled a bit. The sweet crinkles of his eyes make you smile too.

“Alright then, just be careful, yeah? I trust you..” You mumbled, letting him take his hand away from in between your legs.

He moved his arm to wrap around you, lazily inserting his fingers into your mouth as if silently telling you to clean the mess you made while his other hand arranged his cock with your pretty pussy. He was just mere millimeters away from claiming you as his, forever staining your pussy as used.

But when you gently bumped your hips to his, like a silent way of urging him to continue, he did so. His tip was slowly guided to your perfect cunt, the warmth of its inviting juices nearly having him in a chokehold. And in one small rut, the tip of his hot and heavy cock was plunged into your precious cunt, innocence stripped from it as you made the softest croon around his fingers.

It wasn’t long until Dally started to rut his hips against yours, flesh clashing against flesh to make the unholiest clapping sounds. Thank the heavens he thought to put his fingers in your mouth, an inexperienced and lovely thing like you was sure to make a bit too much noise.

But Dally was gentle as he banged out the first round with you.

Muffled moans and groans from the both of you filled the small apartment, and the scent of sex was pungent as your hand found Dally’s forearm. Nails digging into the soft flesh as the nerves in between your legs started to burn, a hot and searing sizzle that had your already tired brain going bonkers.

“Dal- Dal..” You muttered, muffled cries of his name being silenced by the fingers plugging your mouth. How were you supposed to tell him it felt weird? 

Maybe it was just overstimulation, but your legs were shaky, your abdomen felt tight, and your head was growing fuzzy. Not at all in an unpleasurable way, you were having the time of your life. But, it was a little discomforting from how overwhelming it was considering how you had just had your first proper climax given to you.

But Dally didn’t stop, no. He was too far gone in the flutters of your cunny’s walls, too engulfed in the pleasure of hearing your sounds and feeling your body pressed right up against his. You were so precious, so perfect. How could he not just let himself mould into you?

And sure enough, the overstimulation left your poor cunt reaching another peak, legs beginning to twitch as you simmered down. Thankfully, Dally seemed to be done too, as he ceased his movements and just held you tight.

You bathed in the afterglow of such an intimate moment, letting Dally’s body heat soak into you as you both rested contentedly.

There’d just be a hell of a mess, a noise complaint, and a lot of explaining to do awaiting you two.