#mm tag so i can find things later

[medicinemane]

You know that joke about the guy where a flood's coming and the guy keeps being like "god will save me" to people driving by in a car, and then a boat, and then a helicopter; then he dies and asks god why he didn't save him, and god says "who do you think sent all those people"?

Now I want you to imagine the inverse. I want you to imagine someone that's struggling and everyone keeps saying to themself that surely someone else will help them

And I'm telling you that you can't count on that, if you aren't getting in their and lending a hand yourself assume no help's coming

That's the concept that I really want to keep stressing to people, cause to me it seems like an important way to view the world

We can't always help, we certainly can't help everyone everywhere and we hope that things do get better, that someone else helps... but when we can help I think it's important to try and just assume that if you don't no one will rather than just getting complacent

You don't have to save the day, you just have to do what you can to make sure people aren't struggling alone when you could help. That's all

[nereidprinc3ss]

no sweeter innocence (than our gentle sin)

in which spencer reid is gentle with overwhelmed fem!reader after sex

18+ (fluff, implied intimacy) warnings/tags: it's just aftercare, but like psychological aftercare, implied intimacy duh, vague descriptions of sex but nothing explicit, hurt/comfort without the hurt, allusions to postcoital dysphoria, reader cries but its not really sad, spencer reid is so kind i wish men were real, i think that is all a/n: guess who wrote an entirely different thing instead of touching her wips..... AGAIN...... this bitch cant do anything omggg!! but this was based on a request so go me also what a strange time to be posting but it's only 1k words and nobody can stop me

“Hey. Are you with me, angel?”

You blink your eyes open in the dark room—reorienting yourself to the tangle of your bodies. How many minutes has it been?

“Hm?”

He chuckles—a quick huff from his nose as he brings a hand up to push hair from your face. 

“I asked you if you’re with me.”

It takes you a moment to answer. You’re still trying to make sense of where you are in space, each sensation coming back to you one by one—the weight and pressure of him against you, the slip of cotton sheets and a cool breeze from the cracked window over your heated sticky skin. 

“Oh.”

It’s not much of an answer and your voice is small. For a moment he lets it sit, cupping your warm cheek. Your eyes flutter shut again. His voice comes gentler, dipped in concern. 

“You okay?”

This time you don’t try to speak. Your tongue is like a lead weight in your mouth and your brain is running on dial-up. The best you can do is to cling to him, hiding your face in the curve of his neck and hoping he’ll understand that your firm hold on him is a request for him to tighten his own arms around you, until you’re sure you won’t float away. He reciprocates and it makes you feel more secure immediately. 

“Can you answer me?” He murmurs, all sweet solicitation, lips brushing the top of your head in this new airtight position. And then, a moment later— “Baby. I wanna hear your voice.”

“Mhm,” you manage. 

Spencer rewards you by rubbing your back in slow circles. His hand feels nice on your bare skin. The way you love him is too big for words. It could make you cry. 

“Wasn’t too much? You’re not hurting anywhere?”

You shake your head and try to ignore the ache in your bones when you can’t seem to get him close enough. 

“Mm-mm.”

It’s not entirely true—your legs are sore, but it’s nothing that needs tending to, and your lower back is a bit crampy, but he’s already working on that. 

He hums. “You’re pretty out of it, sweet girl. What’s going on with you?”

Spencer is always careful with you. He’d never hurt you, or sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure. That said, he’s just as passionate as you are. The stretch of your arms above your head is still fresh in your mind—the ghost of his grip, pressing your wrists into the mattress, or pushing your leg up, or pulling you exactly where he wanted you by the hips. It’s all wonderful, and you never feel safer than you do when you’re with him, but it doesn’t make you feel any less vulnerable, any less raw, after all is said and done. Maybe it’s precisely because you trust him so much that you’re so sensitive afterward. But he never, ever makes you feel bad for having an intense reaction to an intense experience. He always meets you where you’re at. That in itself makes you emotional. Spencer is different than any of the partners you’d had before. 

Again, he’s patient as you try to process his question and work up a response. Maybe a minute later, you’re breathing out something that feels true. 

“Overwhelmed.”

The word is a tap against glass you didn’t know was there until it’s fracturing like a spiderweb. With no warning, and for no good reason, you find yourself choked up. 

“Oh,” he says, sympathetic and drawn out as understanding sets in. “Do you need me to back off for a minute?”

You squeeze him even fiercer and shake your head, unable to stop the tears from drawing their shiny paths down your cheeks and sinking into the weave of the pillow case. 

“Shh. You’re okay,” he murmurs, quiet and slow and almost sing-songy as he smooths your hair, though you know he doesn’t really expect you to stop crying. “You’re okay, pretty. Remember what I said about all the hormonal shifts in your body after you come?”

Once more you nod against him with a small, shuddering sniffle. 

“And how sometimes your body regulates by crying? Kind of like a… a reset button?”

“Mhm.”

“Mhm.” He shifts from rubbing your back to tracing light lines in shapeless patterns with the blunt edges of his nails, and your breath catches before you’re melting in his hold. “It’s okay to have big or confusing feelings after sex. It’s actually really common. I just want you to be honest with me about those feelings, right? So we can keep you safe?”

��Right.”

“Would you tell me if you were hurting, or if something I did or said was bothering you?”

“Yes.”

If you were looking at him you know he’d be smiling ever so slightly at your monosyllabic responses, charting an upward path with his hand and pushing it through your hair at the nape of your neck. “You can just nod, baby. You don’t have to talk. I know you’re tired.”

You make a small noise of gratitude and nuzzle closer, feeling better as the tears slow, quickly as they’d come. 

“Do you want a bath in a little while?”

Another nod. He scratches at your scalp. “Okay. We’ll do a bath, and then dinner, and then I’m finally going to make you watch that documentary about Helvetica. It’s a little outdated, and there are a few basic errors about the origin and development of the font as well as misinformation about the typeface subgroup in general, but I can amend those as we watch and afterward we can read the director’s tenth anniversary statement. I was waiting to read it until we watched it together.”

Spencer knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’ll fall asleep ten minutes in, curled up on the couch under a blanket in your biggest hoodie with your head on his lap and his hand in your hair, just like this. 

He’s actually really looking forward to it.

[leighsartworks216]

Sleeping In

Sylus x gn!Reader

Inspired by me who sleeps in just underwear and that being just some casual thing

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, literal sleeping together, implied/partial nudity, kissing, cuddling

Word Count: 366

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You're gently awoken by warm arms wrapping around you. They slide under and over you, drawing you into a solid chest. Large hands caress and trace along your bare back; odd shapes or the ridges of your spine. You inhale deeply as you wrap your arms around your awakener in return.

Sylus kisses your head lightly and whispers, "Did I wake you?"

You hum. "'S okay..." You can feel his smile in the curl of his lips as he brushes another kiss to your forehead. "Did you just get back?"

"Mm. Work was hectic. That's why I told you not to wait up for me." He glances at the clock on your bedside table. The sun is starting to rise, as much as it does in the N109 Zone. If you hope to get to work on time, you should be leaving soon. Except, here you are, sleeping in. "Do you have work today, sweetie?"

You shake your head, burying your nose securely in his collarbones. With ticklish touches, you trace the pronounced muscles in his back, feeling along his dimples and the outlines of his shoulder blades. "Did you get hurt?"

He holds you tighter to him, shifting down so your face can find its way to his neck. One hand rests warmly at the back of your neck, the other drawing you in closer by your lower back. Your legs tangle with his, securing your position there.

"It's nothing you need to worry about. Get some more sleep," he tells you softly.

You press little kisses against his skin. Each one is like a tiny blessing. A grateful prayer to whoever brought this big man into your life. A dedicated promise not to let him go now that you have him. And, with it all, a sweet relief that he's come back to you (relatively) unharmed. Your content sigh makes the aching bullet wounds and difficult blood stains all worth it.

"Just don't bleed on the sheets..." you murmur as your hands slow to a stop on his back. "I jus' changed 'em......" A moment later, sleep has claimed you.

He chuckles quietly, doing his best not to disturb you. "Wouldn't dream of it."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry

[pedrospatch]

mornings like these

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: There’s a reason you’re always late to morning patrol. That reason’s name is Joel Miller.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, NO AGE SPECIFIED FOR READER. established relationship though it’s lightly implied it’s a fairly new relationship, hints of fluff, hints of smut, morning wood, very brief mentions of oral sex (female receiving) and fingering.

word count: < 1k

a/n: this is quite literally nothing. just a blurb i wrote in 20 ish or so minutes. it could have been a whole thing, but i am in the middle of editing a long wip update. i needed a break from it and this happened. hardly any plot, hardly any porn, what would you even call this? lol

You wake with a gentle start, your eyes fluttering open.

Sunlight filters in through the sheer white curtains.

Soft. Warm. Golden.

A strong arm tightens around you.

“Mm,” he mumbles from beside you. “S’nice.”

His voice is deeper than usual, thick with sleep.

You’re still getting used to it. To mornings like these.

Waking up next to him—with him.

Naked in his bed, wrapped in his sheets, in his arms.

You’re laying on your side, your back against his chest.

You feel him already, hard on curve of your ass.

Suddenly, all you can think about is the night before. 

Every deep, swollen kiss he gave you.

Every sweet, loving word he’d whispered to you. 

Every minute of every hour he’d spent worshiping your body like he was getting to know it for the first time all over again.

“It is nice,” you agree with him, exhaling a small sigh of content. Finding his large hand splayed over your lower belly, you lace your fingers together with his, the same long, thick fingers that stretched the tight walls of your aching cunt all night long. “After three days of pouring rain, this is very nice. It almost makes me look forward to going out on patrol.”

Chuckling softly, Joel nuzzles his nose into your bare shoulder, deeply inhaling the subtle, delicate scent of milk and honey soap. “Don’t mean the weather, sweet girl.”

You raise an eyebrow. “No?”

He gently nips at your flesh with his teeth. “Nope.”

“Then what do you mean?” you press, innocently.

As if you don’t already know.

“This.” There’s a brief pause. “Wakin’ up with you.”

Giggling, you tease, “You’ve gone soft for me, Miller.”

“And so what if I have?” He’s grinning, you can feel it.

Slowly, he begins to lower your intertwined hands and drags them further down your belly.

You know what he’s doing. The man is insatiable.

“Joel,” you utter his name breathlessly.

“What is it, honey?” he coos into the nape of your neck.

Oh yes, you know exactly what he’s doing.

Pulling your hand out of his, you roll onto your back and turn your head, your nose lightly bumping his. “Don’t start,” you warn him in the sternest voice you can possibly muster.

There’s a mischievous glimmer in his dark brown eyes.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout, darlin’.”

His cock is rock hard, poking into your hip.

“We have patrol in an hou—”

Joel’s hand slips between your thighs and you’re cut off by the sound of your own loud gasp as he drags a finger languidly along your slick, warm folds.

He skims your jawline with his nose. “Now, what were you sayin’?”

“Oh my fuck,” you curse as he sinks his finger into your cunt, burying it to his knuckle. “Joel, Tommy will kill us if we’re late to our shift again—” You moan as he curls his finger upwards, your hips bucking up off of the bed and into his hand.

That’s where Joel Miller had you.

Right in the palm of his hand.

In every which way possible.

“I can stop,” he murmurs against your cheek, the scruff of his beard tickling your soft skin. “Just say the word, baby, and I’ll stop.”

You don’t tell him to stop.

Of course you don’t want him to stop.

You never, ever want him to stop.

Moments later, Joel’s head is between your thighs and he’s devouring your cunt like he’s having breakfast. His tongue swirls around your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy, a mere warm up before you take his throbbing cock.

Hands tangled in his graying, dark brown curls, you forget all about getting to patrol on time.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: Idk why but I'm so over dealing with people!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You swipe away another phone call. You have at least a dozen missed. Let them buzz in your pocket for another few hours. You try not to think about it as you turn your attention back to the plot before you, the tight foot by foot square, and continue to gently sift through the dirt. You stop only to make notes on the map and examine the odd bit of animal bones you find. 

Bzzzzzz. The constant vibration in your pants makes you anxious. You should put it to silent but keep forgetting. Whatever. You’re busy. Whoever it is will have to wait. You know who it is. He’s been calling for days. You’ve been ignoring him just as long. 

You should pick up. You should be there for him. You should be happy for him but your heart feels rotten. Years of pining and you can’t pretend any longer. Not after the party. Not after seeing him on his knee for another woman. That’s it. That’s the seal on the envelope. The dream is crumpled up and in the bin. 

He didn’t even notice that you left early. You don’t think anyone did. You spent all those weeks planning and fretting and laying awake at night and for what? To pretend that it could ever be all for you?  

You sigh and sit back on your heel, one leg bent under you as you rest your arm on your other knee. You blow an insect away from your face and push your hat back. The sun beats down, offering great light for the excavation but less than ideal temperature. 

“Eh, there you are,” Arturo waltzes up in his round tinted spectacles, “find anything good?” 

“Nah,” you shake your head and shrug. 

“You know where you’d find something amazing? Norway,” he smirks, hands on his hips. “So... you thought about it?” 

“Mm, yeah, been thinking,” you utter dully as you look up at him from under the brim of your hat. “When do you need a decision?” 

“The sooner the better. The grant proposal is all but approved, we just need a name on that blank line,” he says, “this could be really good for you. No, I know it will be good.” 

“Right,” you nod and stand up, dusting off your tan pants, “I know you said you weren’t sure but any idea how long? I’d have to worry about my apartment and telling my family...” 

“A year. That’s about right,” he proclaims, “could be longer but I’d plan for that.” 

“A year?” You wisp as your chest deflates. You put your hand on your pocket as your phone buzzes again. “Wow.” 

“You really want to spend another year in the city sweating for crow bones?” He asks. “Not trying to push you but these opportunities don’t come along often.” 

“Norway,” you suck your teeth and angle your chin as you think, “viking stuff?” 

“Possibly, could be an early Christian settlement too. How about I send you the proposal and you give it a look?” 

“Sure, I... I guess I should.” 

“It’ll all be taken care of; accommodation, travel, stipend,” he lists off with his fingers. “I know it’s not Ireland like you wanted.” 

“No, no, it’s okay,” you assure him, “I’ll keep thinking.” 

He winks and grins triumphantly, “tomorrow. I need to know tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow?” You echo back in a hollow murmur. 

He’s already walking away. Your phone starts to shake again and you growl. You shove your hand in your pocket and rip it out. Your gloves smear dirt on the screen as you press the red button. You pause before you can drag your thumb over. You inhale and push your finger the other direction. 

“Bucky,” you answer in confusion. He wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t an emergency. 

“Ah, there you are kid,” Steve’s voice comes in place of the expected timbre. You hiss. “You avoiding me or something?” 

“Uh, no,” you reply thinly, “I’m working,” you rub the back of your neck with your other hand, “it’s been busy and I’m sure you’ve been running all around with... everything.” 

You can’t bring yourself to say it. Wedding. Ugh. He’s getting married... to her. 

“Well, Peggy’s doing most of the planning, really. I don’t know,” he chuckles crisply, “you know, more a lady’s thing. She’s already knee-deep in the engagement party. Maybe you could give her a few pointers.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” you grumble as you bring your hand forward to rub your thumb with your index, scratching away more of the dust. 

“I didn’t get to say thank you. Again. That party was amazing. It was perfect, kid.” 

“Steve, we’re the same age,” you gripe at his pet name. 

“Yeah, but you hate it so much,” he teases. 

You can’t smile. Even as your cheeks pinch, you can only grimace. You drop your arm and close your eyes as you push your head back. 

“She loved it. I did too. We’re so happy and you made that happen--” 

“Steve, why are you calling? I’m buried right now,” you huff. 

“You are? I thought you’re supposed to dig stuff up--” 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Well, you missed Opening Day so I thought maybe you’d wanna come watch the game. Sam’s doing his famous nachos and Bucky is... coming.” 

You hear the very man mutter in the background. Great, you even have an audience. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had you on speaker. Why would anything between you ever be intimate? 

“Tonight?” You wonder, “you sure you’re available?” 

“Me, I should be asking you,” he scoffs, “come on, how long’s it been since we’ve been apart a whole week?” 

“Work...” 

“Can you dig in the dark?” He challenges. 

“Steve,” you sniff, “I’m tired...” you feel your heart sinking. You feel bad. You never say no to Steve. It’s not easy. You tried but he’s right. You can’t remember the last time you didn’t see him at least every other day. “Fine, twist my arm.” 

“Good,” he chirps victoriously. “I wasn’t looking forward to driving up there and digging you out. So, seven?” 

“Seven, right,” you agree. “See ya then.” 

“Don’t make me come find ya, kid.” 

You hang up and cringe. You don’t even like baseball. It was just another personality trait you took on hoping to be close to Steve, hoping he might realise you’re destined to be together. Well, that’s not true. You’re just stupid. It took you too long to grow out of being that stupid college girl fawning over the blond hunk in his coed sweater. 

Still stupid, still alone. 

💟

You never show up empty-handed. Even when you were a poor sophomore. So it is that you delay the inevitable by stopping at your favourite local bakery. They’re closing and you get the eclairs for a discount as they’ll be on the day-old shelf in the morning.  

The owner, Marigold, knows you and puts in an extra one. You leave a tip as you listen eagerly to her rambling story about her granddaughter’s first soccer practice. Usually, you would be checking the time but today, you got more than enough. Finally, she sends you off as she turns off the sign. 

Fine, you’ll go. 

You find a visitor’s spot behind Steve’s building and linger in the car. You eat the extra eclair to keep from crying. Sugar is good for clogging up your tear ducts. You wipe your mouth and make yourself get out of the car. 

As you wait in the lobby for the buzzer to pick up, your insides squirm. You’re not ready for this. You’re not ready to face the truth you’ve been running from. The one you know you can’t deny any longer. 

“Hey kid,” Steve unlocks the door without awaiting a response. It’s typical; you have your patterns. Those little rituals are all going to end. 

You go through to the elevators and contemplate taking the stairs as you wait. The doors open and you step on, facing your reflection in the mirror doors. Your pants are still filthy from working in the dirt, your shirt is stained with your sweat, but at least you remembered to change your shoes. The elevator dings and you nearly let the doors close again before you can find your strength. 

You walk down the hallway and knock. You can hear their voices through the door. Steve opens it from within and gives you a strange look. 

“What’re you knocking for? You know you can come right in.” 

“Yeah, sorry, tired, long day,” you babble out the lazy excuses. “Here.” 

“Oh, nice,” he takes the box of eclairs, “you weren’t lying. You look exhausted.” 

“Ah, you really know how to talk up a woman,” Sam interjects as he appears in the doorway further down the entryway, “it’s a wonder Peggy said yes.” 

“Shut up,” Steve throws back as he turns to head back to the kitchen. 

You take your time in pulling off your shoes and sense Sam lingering, watching as you meander. You clear your throat as you stand and head down the hall. He nudges you as you step into the doorway next to him. 

“Where ya been?” He asks, “these jackasses have been driving me nuts.” 

“Work,” you repeat again, “lots going on.” 

“Right, yeah, now that you’re not spending all your time planning someone else’s girlfriend’s birthday.” 

You give him a sharp look and he shows his palms. You shake your head. He’s right. You wasted all that time. You’ve wasted years. All for nothing. 

“Fiancee, now, I guess,” he adds. 

“Yeah, the happy couple,” you snip and step into the room, “so we watching the game or are we giving him another pat on the back.” 

“What? You’re not excited? You’ll get to be a bridesmaid or whatever. Since I’m best man, I’ll be sure to save you a dance,” Sam chuckles. 

“You? Best man?” Bucky sneers from the couch where he slouches and flicks through a motorcycle magazine, “don’t think so, bud.” 

“Oh, you don’t think I’m better than you?” Sam challenges. “Let’s race for it.” 

“You cheat,” Bucky growls. 

“No, I have strategy,” Sam counters. 

You roll your eyes. Wedding talk, already. The exact thing you can’t handle right now.  Bucky sits up to glare at Sam as he closes the glossy pages. You let them argue and posture at each other. 

You leave the room and let yourself onto the balcony. The fresh air is chilling. You shiver as you step up to the railing and look across the city. You take in the skyline, each window, each peak, each speck of a car on the streets below. It feels so grey. Like it’s the last time you’ll be standing here looking over it all. 

Maybe it is. 

💟

You sip from the bottle of beer as Sam nearly drops his nachos off his lap in excitement. He hollers at the screen as Bucky gives him a look. Steve shakes a fist at the second base run. You’re happy enough to tamp down the heat of the peppers with the wheaty ale.  

Sam rights himself beside you as Steve reaches forward to set down his plate. He grabs the square of paper towel folded on the coffee table and wipes his lips. He sits back and slings his elbow over the armrest as the next batter takes his place. 

“So, how do you guys feel about a destination wedding?” Steve asks. 

You clamp your lips tight and scoop up more fixings with a chip. Sam swallows loudly as Bucky shrugs. No one says a word. 

“Peggy asked earlier. I wanted to do it at a cathedral here. Just how I always pictured it,” Steve says. 

Yeah, that sounds like him. He likes old-fashioned and elegant. Everything Peggy is and you’re not. Makes you wonder why she wouldn’t want the same venue. 

“Back home?” Sam wonders. 

“England? No. I suggested that and she was not into it.” 

“Somewhere tropical?” Sam prompts again. He’s at least trying. You’re too sick to open your mouth. 

“Sure, that’s what I was hoping,” he smiles, “especially if it’s a winter wedding. The date... yeah, that’s a big deal too. You know, I thought the ring was a pain.” 

You keep your head down, hoping the pain doesn’t show. Not only did he propose to her, he kept it from you. You’re best friends and you had no idea. How much had you been through with him? He had you plan that whole party but he couldn’t tell you that?  

No, no, you’re being dramatic. You’re friends. He doesn’t owe you that. It’s between him and Peggy. His future... wife. Ugh. You can’t even imagine that happening. You try and try but you just can’t stomach the image. Peggy in white, Steve in his tux, and you just standing, watching. 

“I can’t come,” you blurt out abruptly. 

“Huh?” Steve blinks and flinches as if he’s been slapped. 

Sam angles beside you to squint at you and Bucky’s brows pop up. Another silence, this one deadly. You’re suffocating as you search for words. 

“I won’t be here.” 

“Well, yeah, like I said, it’s gonna be somewhere else. You don’t even know when it is,” Steve blusters as his face creases in disappointment. 

“I’m going to Norway,” you blather and nearly choke at the realisation of what you said. 

“Norway?” Sam repeats hollowly. 

“Yeah, uh, work... offered me a grant contract and I’ll be going to Norway. For at least a year. So... yeah.” 

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Steve blinks rapidly, “how-- when were you going to tell me?” 

“I’m telling you now,” you push your shoulders up, “I just found out.” 

“You can’t...” Steve begins. 

“That’s awesome,” Sam speaks over him, “hey,” he nudges you, “that is so fucking cool. Norway. Vikings and shit.” 

Bucky nods and gives a thoughtful look, “rains a lot.” 

“So I’ve heard,” you utter dumbly, not sure how to respond. “I got a lot to do before then so I might be a bit absent.” 

“Don’t even worry about us,” Sam insists, “you need any help at all...” 

Steve stands up suddenly and slams his bottle down. Before you can speak, he twists on his heels and storms across the apartment. You stare after him as he disappears into the next room and you hear the balcony door slide back then snap shut just as quickly.  

You grip the beer bottle tight and look down. You didn’t think he’d be mad. You’ll be out of the way. He can get married and be happy. 

“What a baby,” Bucky grumbles, “can’t be happy for anyone but himself.” 

“Well, you are his best pal,” Sam snipes, “birds of a feather.” 

“So that means I’m best man,” Bucky intones mischievously. 

“No, it’s not best buddy, it’s best man--” 

They continue their banter and you get up. You put down your chips and beer and leave without notice from the bickering couple. You near the balcony and look through to Steve as he leans on the rail, his head down. Gently, you slide the door open and step out. 

Only the wind blows as you come closer to the railing. He roils in the cool evening air. You take a breath as you come up next to him. 

“Sorry, it’s... a good opportunity.” 

“No...” he drones, “I’m happy for you. I just... I can’t imagine my wedding without you. Or my life.” He lifts his head to look at you. “What am I going to do? You’re supposed to tell me what bowtie to wear and how to do my hair.” 

“Peggy can do all that,” you cross your arms, “Steve, I can’t pass this up. If I stay in the city...” you let your voice trail off into the wind. If you stay, you’ll have to watch his happily ever after while yours never comes. “I’ll never do anything.” 

“I know,” he dips his head again, “I’m proud of you. Really. But I’m going to miss you.” 

Your cheeks tauten and your throat clenches. Your voice is creaky as you speak, “I’ll miss you too.”  

He’ll miss you but he’ll never love you like you do him. 

[solar4seekstron]

You have summoned us... for tfone Orion Pax. He cares, man; he really cares about everyone's well-being. So perhaps he sees the reader being down and decides you know what, I'll try to get to brighten their day by finding this lovely spot to visit in Iacon that he stumbled on.

I shall try my best!

For Us

Orion Pax x Cybertronian!reader OneShot

Introduction Movie Oneshot Masterlist

Content: SFW. ORION MY BBG!!!!<3

TW/Tags: nothing really just OP BEING ADORABLE

Orion was just minding his own business walking through town. Going to pick up some special energon for D until he sees you. He noticed you seemed sad and was speaking to a cogged bot. Mirage seemed to be telling them some bad news and let’s just say from afar. It was defiantly a show to behold as you only got upset. And let’s just say it’s a good thing Orion didn’t hear what you said to Mirage.

Mirage left with a sad expression as you stand there with your fists clenched. The other boys around you avoided you and whispered around you. Orion wasn’t sure what was going on but he is one of your friends so he knew he had to help you feel better.

Later that night Orion poked his head out from a corner as the other miners sleep. He sees you as you slept at your spot.

He snuck over and started to poke your helm. “Psst. Y/N…” he continues to poke at your helm until you finally woke up “mm…Orion?”

“Hey come with me. I got something awesome that I need to show you.” You let out a soft sigh as you looked at him. He always made you smile even when you should be mad.

He takes you out of the miners quarters and takes you to a far location. You noticed it’s the way part the Iacon 5000 stadium and as you get further. He then had you climbing up a tower…Yeah. Maybe you should start to worry. As you both climbed you didn’t even bother to look down. Problem for later you guessed.

Once you two were at the top of the building you looked around. “No one ever seems to come up here Pax. You sure we should be here?”

“Oh yeah it’s totally fine just so happen to stumble up here during one of my greatest escapes from cops.” You looked around and the area noticing the other buildings “Stumbled????”

Orion was too busy looking over the city with his cervos on his hips when you asked. “Orion why did you bring me here?” He’d then look at you and walk over to you. Gently grabbing your cervo and bringing you with him. You were hesitant as he dragged you with him and when he told you to look down. Luckily the tower having a parapet. You slowly looked down and your optics widened. You were over where you got a very good view of the Iacon stadium and the rest of the race from almost across the city. The tower was far but the view was perfect.

You were in shock and as you stared. Orion had the biggest grin on his face. You then looked at you with a slow head turn

“Orion…” you let out a sigh of joy “why did you bring me here?”

“Well when I got here I thought of how incredible it be to see it without using that big screen. So maybe…you, me,….and D I guess too-“ you and him let out a chuckle

“We can watch…up here one day….guards will be too busy I checked” he chuckled as you only stared at him with a soft smile on your dermas. “Thank you…Orion…” he puts his cervo on your shoulder

You two looked at the stadium for a little while longer until Orion glanced at you before asking

“So you and Mirage….there a reason you two were….’argueing’???” You thought for a moment

“…..OH! Yeah he said that a celebrity like him couldn’t be seen with someone lower based on what other racers told him.”

You two remain silent for a while. Until it actually clicked in Orions helm.

“oh…..OH…..OH!!! THAT MOTHERFU-“

-End Credits with if I fall music-

Hope you enjoyed. I mostly had fun with this one 😊

And Happy Halloween!!!!

[vodika-vibes]

Ordinary Day

When you flee to Pabu to get away from your life, you don’t expect to find happiness there. You’ve never been so happy to be wrong in your life.Summary:

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x Reader

Word Count: 834

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I wanted to write something cute and sorta fluffy so I did.

You like your home.

Sure, it’s a bit small, nothing compared to the grand mansions that you used to live in when you were a child, but your home is cozy and warm and safe…and that’s something that you never had growing up.

Yes. You love your home.

Even the squeaky floorboards on the stairs, and the way that the kitchen faucet drips if you aren’t careful to make sure that it’s turned completely off.

But, you have to admit, your favorite part of your home has nothing to do with your home itself, so much as your neighbor, and boyfriend of two months, Crosshair.

You roll out of bed early, and lazily shower and dress before you start opening curtains and windows. 

It’s your day off, which means, naturally, that you’re awake with the sunrise. Still, it’s a nice day, so you don’t mind as much as you normally do.

You grab some of the dough that’s been in the fridge overnight, and toss it on the counter so you can have fresh bread later, before you go about opening the curtains and windows in the main part of the house. 

Carefully, you tie the curtains to the side, and then push open the window before locking it into place, and a small smile crosses your face when you see Crosshair messing with the speeder in front of his house.

“Does Tech know you’re messing around with his speeder, Cross?” You ask, your voice light as you lean against the window frame.

He straightens and looks at you, a small smirk crossing his face, “Morning kitten.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname, though it’s mostly for show, you both know it doesn’t bother you half as much as you act. “Good morning, Crosshair.” 

He flashes a small smile, “What Tech doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“Mm-hmm, but will it hurt you?”

“I can take him.”

You laugh softly, “Wouldn’t it be better to not start a fight in the first place?”

The toothpick in Crosshair’s mouth moves from one side to the other, “Nah.”

You laugh again and shake your head, “I’m going to hazard a guess that you’re the older brother.”

Crosshair’s grin is sharp, “How’d you guess, kitten?”

“I just have a feeling about these kinds of things.” You reply, and then you sit on the windowsill and swing your legs so they’re outside the house, “So, why are you awake so early?”

“Wrecker snores.” Crosshair replies, his gaze dropping to your bare legs for a split second, before snapping back to your face, “You?”

“Ah. Well, today is the first day of my vacation, so naturally I woke up with the sun.”

“Oh, naturally.” He teases with a smirk, “Hate it when that happens.”

“It’s the worst.” You agree, cheerfully ignoring his teasing, “You going somewhere?”

“Yeah, I was planning on spending the day away from everyone, on the other side of the island.” Crosshair replies, as he drops his bag in the speeder, “I just need a break from people.”

“That’s fair. Well, don’t let me stop you-”

Crosshair watches you for a moment, and then he folds his arms across his chest, “Wanna come?”

“I thought you needed a people break?”

“Come on, Kitten. We both know you don’t count as people.”

“Thanks…I think.”

“Are you coming or aren’t you?” Crosshair asks with a roll of his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming. Untwist your panties, Cross.” You hop down from the windowsill, and hurry over to him. 

“Hm, you spend a long time thinking about my underwear, kitten?” Crosshair asks as you stop next to him.

“That’s for me to know and you to wonder.” You reply primly.

“Yeah? Well, that’s a shame, because I spend a lot of time thinking about yours.”

“I think that makes you a pervert.” You muse thoughtfully.

“But not you?”

“Of course not.” You grin at him.

Crosshair chuckles and tosses his toothpick to the side, “So, this counts as a date, right?” You arch a single brow at him, “Which means I can kiss you whenever I want, right?”

“Is that how that works?”

“You know, I think it does.”

“Hm…well, if that’s the case, then yes. I suppose you can.”

Crosshair is quick to take advantage of your permission, as he crashes his lips against yours and tangles his fingers in your short hair to keep you close. “There,” He says as he pulls away, “That’s a proper good morning.”

“Hm…is it?” You ask with a dreamy smile, “I wasn’t paying attention.”

He laughs, “Brat. You can get more kisses when we get to where we’re going. In the speeder.”

“You’re so bossy.”

“You love it. Get in.”

“I’m getting, I’m getting.” You reply with a laugh as you climb into the passenger's seat, before leaning back and stretching out.

You love so many things about Crosshair…but these surprise trips, where it’s just the two of you exploring for the sake of exploring, you think you love the most.

[wearyeyebrow]

Worthy In Blue

Summary: You’ve been working on a little surprise project for Lucifer involving navy blue rope and a mahogany chair. You know Lucifer has a penchant for ropework, so what if you gave him an evening to put those skills, and your own, to good use?

Tags under the cut.

Tags: submissive lucifer, dominant MC, rope, restraints, MC is in rope, Lucifer is restrained, pegging, cunnilingus, gn MC, afab MC, mutual possessiveness, romance, established relationship, pre-nightbringer

-

Tonight is the long awaited Grimte Banquet where all the noble houses gather. Relationships are maintained, new ones started, and it’s all Lucifer can do to keep his brothers in line. Luckily, he has you to keep Mammon by your side and Beel full of food.

The night drones on spent managing many noble advances. He spares you a weary glance and you wink at him from across the hall. He can’t help the quirk of his mouth, a slight smile amidst everything. You’re impossibly charming.

A few moments later and he hears your voice in his ear. “Meet me in the coat room, I have something to show you.”

You slip away and disappear somewhere in the crowd. Eventually he manages a moment alone, horribly curious as he finds his way to you.

You close the door behind him, nearly hidden amidst coats of all sizes. “Hi gorgeous,” you wrap your arms around his waist.

"A coat closet?" He muses.

“I won’t keep you. Pretty sure Beel is looking for me too… Here.” You hold up your phone, “What do you think?”

You’re showing him a picture of… rope? “This is what you wanted to show me?”

“I could hardly send it to your phone right now, what with the entire royal court surrounding you. Plus, I’d rather explain its implications in person.”

“Implications?”

“Mm. Are you free next Friday night? Around 10pm?”

“I…” he allows himself a small smile, “I might be able to spare you some time.”

“Oh might you?” You smirk, “Well, if you’re too busy I completely understand. I’m capable of appreciating my own hard work.”

He acts affronted, grabbing you by the waist and kissing your hand. “Would a willing participant not please you more?”

“Isn’t that why I asked you in the first place?” He’s captivated by the crinkle of your nose, by the warmth of your smile.

“You’ve caught me,” he chuckles, “I’m all yours.”

“Then it’s a date. Do you like the color?”

You show him your phone again and he hums appreciatively. "Did you get it from Cloven Boutique? I didn’t think they stocked colored rope."

“They don’t, I dyed it myself."

“Truly?” He looks closer, in want of his glasses. “It looks like a professional job."

"Well, I had to get the color just right - I love the look of you in blue."

"Oh?" His tone softens.

“Mhm…” You appreciatively sweep your eyes up his body, lingering the gold peacock tie-clip you got him last month. You reach out and adjust his collar, “I love seeing you in things I’ve bought.”

“You have good taste.”

“Do you really think so?”

He frowns. “I wouldn’t wear something if it didn’t suit me.”

You laugh, “I know, I just wanted to hear you say it.”

“You’re horrible.”

“I’m charming.”

He fondly rolls his eyes. “I suppose both descriptors are accurate. I will look forward to it all week.”

“I think it’ll be worth the wait.” You lean up and brush your lips against his, “Don’t dance with too many nobles now.”

“Haven’t you noticed? All eyes are on you tonight. It’s taken everything in me not to whisk you away.”

“Likewise, darling.” You wink at him again and his heart certainly doesn’t flutter.

-

Lucifer knocks on your closed door, waiting for you to beckon him inside.

The first thing he notices is an old mahogany chair in the middle of your room, stolen from the hallway. It sits odd against your comfortable furniture.

You make a show of locking your door, brushing against his shoulder as you pass by. Then you cast a noise canceling spell - nothing but an emergency could disturb you now.

When you meet his eyes you're delighted by his wanting expression, unguarded and open in his desire. "I wonder…" you walk over to him, "how much you've thought about this night, curious about what I've planned?" You straighten his tie, close enough to see him swallow.

"It has been on my mind." He takes your hand in his own and kisses your knuckles, looking every part adoring.

You chuckle fondly, "Especially in the evenings, when you think of me?"

His cheeks heat up but his gaze is steady. “I won’t deny it."

“Honesty suits you." He goes in for a kiss just as you pull away. "I want to show you something."

He makes a curious sound and you leave him to open your dresser drawer. "Now, you knew I'd be using rope tonight, but for what exactly I didn't tell you." You gather the rope in your arms, "It might not seem like much of a deviation."

"Oh?" He eyes the rope you've picked.

"You still like it?"

He turns the rope over in his hands, "It’s richer than I remember. How did you do it?"

"Blue mangled beetles - kind of like carmine, but the process is simpler. When dried and crushed they make a beautiful dark navy dye that doesn’t bleed."

"You did your research."

You chuckle and take the rope from his hands. "Only the best for you. Gloves off."

He slips off his right leather glove, finger by finger - wait. “Blue?” You look at him inquisitively. His nails are a rich navy blue, perfectly manicured and glossy.

His eyes flicker behind you, cheeks dusting pink. “I painted them a few days ago.”

You're confused for a minute, then it hits you. “Wait - because of me?”

His voice drops, “You - you mentioned-" He clears his throat, "I thought you might like them.”

"I love them, Lucifer…" You kiss his knuckles, his palm, his wrist, before pulling him in for a proper kiss. His hand cups your jaw and he makes a small, plaintive sound. He really had been thinking about your words all this time.

You pull away with reluctance. "It's time I tell you what we’ll be doing tonight. Shall we start the scene?"

He clears his throat again and sweeps his own magic over your door. "Let us begin."

"Any titles are allowed tonight, you can address me however you’d like. Red to stop the act, yellow to pause, and green for all good. Fire if you want to stop the scene entirely."

"Understood.”

“Then…" the glint in your eyes makes him a little weak in the knees. "I know you have a penchant for ropework. And I know how much you enjoy earning my praise. So, I had a thought - tonight I’d like you to use your ropework skills and tie me up, but I want full range of motion, you know, a design strictly for aesthetics.” You pull the rope taught in your hands, “And then, if you do a good enough job, I may reward you with some rope of my own. What do you say?” You hold out the rope to him.

You smile and oblige, settling into the cold wooden seat. He eyes you and then the rope, contemplative, before loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves. He circles you, and you admire the focused, pointed look on his face as he carefully plans an intricate design in his mind’s eye. He’s completely in his element and you love to watch him work.

“What an intriguing idea...” He takes the rope from your hands with soft reverence, feeling the rough texture between his fingers. “You really got such a nice shine to it,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. He breathes out slowly and gestures to the mahogany chair, “Please dear, relax.”

“Ah,’ you suddenly realize, “This might help.” You lift up your shirt and drop it next to the chair before shimmying out of your bottoms, leaving you bare before him.

“Yes…” he murmurs as his eyes roam your skin.

You feel a pleasant tingle up your spine when he brushes his fingers through your hair, gently gathering until he can put it up properly above your neckline. Your body relaxes under his touch.

The first knot is an anchor tie just below your bust, he uses four strands and divides them into two, slipping each half over your shoulders and back down to meet your back. The rough texture warms you from the outside in but his careful touch is cool against your skin.

You watch him as he works, loving the interplay of shadow that falls across his sharp features. He catches you staring.

“Am I pleasing to look at, Madam?”

“Yes, very much so.”

Your pact mark sings and you chuckle, bemused at the sensation. “You like it when I compliment you, don’t you, my little black bird?”

His cheeks heat up and his eyebrows furrow, as he’s put off by the pet name, but the humming in your chest only continues. “I can feel it, you know? Honesty really does suit you best - your face is much prettier wearing it.”

The tips of his ears turn pink but he circles you, wrapping his arms around your midsection to finish fixing a knot in place. Suddenly his warm lips press into the crook of your shoulder. The deep undertones of his voice make you shiver as he whispers in your ear. “You will be the death of me.”

You turn to meet his eyes, coy mischief in your own. “I think you’ll survive.” He chuckles and you kiss him once, twice, just to make him simmer. He almost goes back in for a third but you brush your thumb over his bottom lip. “Not yet.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He kisses your shoulder once more.

Time passes in a lovely, hazy sort of way. Lucifer relaxes into the process as you'd hoped he would. It’s a gentle sort of focus where his mind is set on something, a place where nothing else can bother him or tear away his careful attention. He loves taking your direction, easing him out of his mind, constantly wound too tight.

Finally he kneels to finish the job, gingerly maneuvering one of your legs up and over his shoulder to wrap a strand around the back of your thigh. His eyes wander this time, following the line of your body until he lingers between your legs. As if he can’t help himself he kisses your skin, leaving a delicate trail up the inside of your thigh.

You cup his jaw in one hand and he kisses your palm, eyeing between your legs. “After you finish,” you murmur, “You’ll have to earn what you get tonight.” His eyes flicker to yours and he continues moving, finishing the tie he started.

“I believe I’m finished, will you stand?”

You do so, feeling the bend and flex of rope. Nothing feels too tight, everything is snug, hugging the curves of your body. You admire what lacing you can see, particularly the delicate design around your hands and wrists. He truly had taken his time, a glance at the clock proves that an hour has passed.

Finally you turn around and examine his work in the mirror. Your eyes light up at his intricate ropework. You’re beautiful, elegant, fully mobile and yet covered in faux restraints. You admire yourself, making a show of your appreciation. His chest puffs out and the pact mark on your chest rumbles. You gently circle your clit with one finger and enjoy how he shifts uncomfortably behind you.

You want more from him. Your body aches from an hour of foreplay.

You cup his jaw with one hand. “Kneel.”

“Yes Sir,” he murmurs, almost breathless.

His willing, almost eager demonstration of your power over him, of his own lack of control, further spurns you on, and you know he can hold your weight.

"Show me, then, devotion to your work." You prop one leg up on the hard mahogany seat, exposing yourself for him. Rope hugs your thighs, indenting and highlighting what he wants most.

His eyes flicker between your face and your clit. He licks his lips. "Thank you, Sir."

You run a hand through his hair and brace the other on the back of the chair. As soon as his tongue touches your clit you gasp, unable to help yourself. You’ve been on edge for so long now, throbbing at every new rope and delicate detail. You savor his mouth, rocking your hips into his face gently. "Yes…" he sucks and licks as you drip onto his tongue and he moans softly at the gentle tug of your hand in his hair.

You'll come quickly and you know it - you rock against him faster now and he wraps his fingers through the ropes on the back of your thigh before squeezing your ass and petting between your legs.

You look down at him, at his disheveled appearance, tousled hair, and too-tight pants. “Lucifer, darling, you - ah - you don’t have to say anything, no thoughts, no control, just take what I give you."

He groans and claws at the backs of your thighs, pulling you forward against his mouth.

You tilt your head back. "Good man, good job-" he whines and flicks his tongue with renewed vigor, "fffuck, right there…"

You fuck his face, shivering and shaking, chasing your orgasm. He holds you upright and supports your body, grasping at his own ropework. You moan and twitch. A glance at the mirror brings you closer still, “Look baby, look at you, making me feel so fucking good… shit-” Your grip on his hair tightens as you twist your hand, pulling him forward. He moans, high and breathy, harshly breathing through his nose.

His right hand supports your waist while his left squeezes your ass. Just a minute more, a second more, finally, finally his palpable desire sends you over the edge, and god how it fills the air. He takes it all and you don't fall, even as your legs lock and your grip falters. You shake and shiver in his tight grasp, palms holding tight to his shoulders. He keeps licking, just enough to keep you there until tension dissipates and you’re overstimulated. Only then does his grip loosen, following your body as you stand on your own, knees shaking.

There's an unspoken tenderness in his eyes - your baby takes pride in service.

You step away from him when you can, fixing his hair and cleaning your cum from his lips. "Sit on the chair, darling."

His knees crack when he gets up, stiff from his place on the hardwood floor. He sits, bulge straining against his trousers, watching you with rapt attention.

"I think…" you turn around, "You've more than earned your reward - as if there was any doubt in my mind."

“Oh?” He practically glows at your praise.

"And…” you walk over to your nightstand once more, "I'm not done with this yet." He swallows, gaze fixated on the rope in your hands. You smirk, "You like that idea?"

He shifts again. "Yes I - very much."

You reach into your nightstand and pull out a matte black silicone dildo, smaller, elegant even. You hold it up. “What about this? Are you up for it tonight?”

“Yes,” he nods, “I prepared myself for the possibility.”

“Perfect,“ you breathe, already excited. “Then…” your smile is nearly wicked as you regard him and his cock throbs in earnest. “Clothes off. Hands behind your back - hold your forearms.”

He acquiesces, knowing exactly what you want.

Soon he’s sitting naked on the chair, hands held behind his back, willingly at your mercy. Your ties aren’t nearly as elegant, but they restrict his movement and hug his body. You restrain his arms behind his back with a chest harness, carefully distributing the weight of the rope, adding just a touch of flourish. Even in such a simple design he looks lovely. Blue really is his color, you think, admiring him. He catches your eye.

“I was right,” you say, tilting his chin up for a chaste peck on the lips, “You look lovely in blue.” He groans and chases your lips this time. You let him, just once, and deepen the kiss yourself, before grabbing him by the hair, wrenching his head up. “Not yet, darling.”

“As you wish.” He’s breathless and kiss bitten.

You leave him and stack two large pillows on top of each other. You motion for him to stand before grabbing him by the restraints. “I will help you get into position,” you chuckle darkly, “I want you face down.”

His cheeks feel hot but he nods, “Yes Sir.”

“Good man. Lie down.”

It takes a moment since he can’t move his arms but you finally have him exactly where you want him, chest pushed into the bed, hips and ass raised by the pillows beneath him.

He tilts his head to look at you with one eye, eyebrow raised as you appear with more rope.

‘Can’t have you squirming too much, now can I?” He groans into the pillow beneath him and nods.

“Tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable or need to readjust, this position might get tiring after awhile.”

“I’m sure I can take it.”

“I’m sure you can, but I’m not asking. Tell me.”

He shivers. “Yes Ma’am.”

“Good.”

You uncap the lube on your nightstand and snap a glove on. He shivers at the cold feeling of your lubed finger rubbing against him, but as your hand warms so does his body and he slowly starts to meet your gentle thrusts as you enter him. You love this part. It’s incredibly intimate, almost more so that the ensuing sex, because anyone else would have been thrown out long ago - he has only ever done this with you.

Once you’re up to two fingers comfortably you withdraw your hand and replace it with your lubed up strap. “Ready?”

“I’ve been ready.” You smack his ass and he gasps.

“What was that?”

“I apologize, yes I - I’m ready.”

“That’s better. One more remark like that,” you murmur, pressing in slowly, “And I’ll rethink your reward.”

He hisses, wiggling his hips, “A-Apologies - it won’t happen again.”

‘I know it won’t,” you smile, “because you love this too much.” Finally, finally you move your hips, slow at first, until finding a gentle rhythm. You use his bound legs as leverage, pushing deep inside of him as his low, desperate moans fill the air.

As his body strains against the rope it holds tight, digging into his skin - this heat, this pleasure, your power over him is dizzying. For a few blissful moments he can’t think, all he can do is feel you surround him and hear your haunting voice in his ear.

It is easy to admire him, Lucifer Morningstar splayed out before you, rocking his ass into your hips, wanting more, more. You grab the rope holding his forearms tight against his back and pull, arching his back against the sheets. He cries out, and you lean down, pushing all your weight on top of him.

“That feel good, baby? Heh, you love it don’t you?” Your hips are slow and deep, grinding on his favorite spot, “You love being fucked like this. Wrapped in my rope, under my hand-” He moans, long and debauched. “I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like this, you belong to me, don’t you?”

“Yes-!”

You’re breathless above him. “We belong to each other, right, love?”

His eyes open and he gazes at you in the adjacent mirror, “Yes…” You dip and kiss the back of his neck, soft and sweet, "Hnn…" he takes in a shuddering breath and lets his head fall forward.

“That's right, no one else deserves to touch you, no one else is good enough, worthy enough.” You whisper in his ear.

He gasps your name and pushes his ass against your hips, pathetically fucking himself on your strap. Every slap of your skin sears welts into his body. You grab his hair and jerk his body up.

“Eyes open, look at yourself.” He didn’t think he could get any redder, but the sight of you behind him, fucking his ass with slow purposeful thrusts, restraining him while tied in his own ropework, it's too much, he can’t - he’ll -

You wrench his head up, “Keep looking,” you pant, “look at the face you make when you come for me.”

He can’t help it, he comes fast and hot, hips stuttering, mouth open and gasping. You slow but you don’t stop. He whimpers but dutifully stays, taking it all.

“Good man,” you praise him, “So. Fucking. Good-” you punctuate your words by digging your nails into his back. You slowly drag them downward and tiny specks of blood bubble to the surface. He hisses but his cock jumps beneath him. “You like a little pain, don’t you?” You slap his ass with an open palm. “Answer me.”

“Yes, yes Ma’am -”

“Yes what?”

"Fuck - more, please-!”

“Filthy.” You bite, before indulging him with another slap on the ass.

You run your nails gently over the welts and he sighs in bliss. In this moment of calm you use all your strength to hoist him upward again, until his back is flush against your chest. You wrap a hand around his throat and start to bounce him on your cock. His eyes roll back and he groans, reaching around to grab your hip as he rocks back into you.

“When I cut you loose,” you pant, “I want you to lie down on your back, legs spread, waiting and ready for me again. Do you understand me?”

He swallows breathlessly and nods.

You lean him forward and gently pull out. You untie his legs, and then his arms before dropping the rope next to the bed. His body is tinged red with slight rope burn, just how he likes.

He rolls over onto his back, finally making eye contact with you. You smile at him, gentle, and his pupils pin. “Spread your legs for me.”

Lucifer grabs his own knees, and spreads his legs while you refuse to let him lose eye contact. His red flush is delicious, and so is his twitching cock, clearly enjoying this.

You grab more lube from the nightstand and quickly reapply before holding one of his legs to your chest and slipping back inside. He groans and rocks his hips forward, savoring the feeling.

You slowly snap your hips forward, reaching deep inside him, you keep repositioning until he gasps and then you hold there. Little thrusts of your hips grinding against his ass. He gasps low, moaning sweetly in his deep voice as sweat trickles down his temple.

“Kiss me-” he croaks, reaching for you. You melt into him and grind against him as his hands roam your body. He doesn’t realize he’s whimpering and shuddering, or if he does he doesn’t care.

You continue like this for a while, enjoying his gasping deep moans in your ear, his lips and teeth on your neck. Finally, at your mercy, you gently trace your fingers over the head of his cock. The noise he makes is agonizing, and you have half a mind to continue neglecting him. But he has your heart as you keep up that gentle, light contact, and he doesn’t ask for more. His head is spinning, filled with thoughts of you, you, just you.

You speed up your hand as your hips get tired and he grips your back, rocking into you. Finally you feel him tense, feel his blunt nails dig into your back.

“There you go, my pretty bird,”

He gasps, light and beautiful, shuddering as he comes, keening as each slow, deep thrust of your hips milks another dribble of cum out of him.

You kiss again and again, covered in sweat, cum, and specks of blood, ignoring the passage of time.

-

Darkness blankets your bedroom, barely lit in deep navy shadow. Your fingernails fall up and down rhythmically over the rope burn on Lucifer’s back.

“I heard you were approached last week.” He murmurs.

“At the Banquet…? Oh, did Asmo say something?”

Lucifer chuckles, "He said something akin to "Everyone here is itching for their chance, don't let them out of your sight."

You feign exasperation. "And what did you do, you let me out of your sight. Now I'm in bed with a demon."

Lucifer snorts, "The very same demon you propositioned in a coat closet."

"What can I say? I know who I want," you kiss his temple.

Lucifer leans into you further, draped across your body. "Don't you have plans early tomorrow morning?"

“You yawn again, “Solomon said he has something important to talk to me about. What exactly, I’m not sure… he can wait until I've had breakfast.”

“That sorcerer…”

“He wants you so bad,” you chuckle, “I mean, it isn’t up to me, but I enjoy acting as if it is.”

“Rest assured,” he kisses your shoulder, “he’ll never have me, not like you do.”

Your smile is gentle. “I love you, Luci.”

“And I you.”

Lucifer closes his eyes and relaxes his sore body, satisfied and calm. He resolves to make you breakfast in the morning before seeing you off to Solomon.

Truly, he thinks, there's nothing he can’t face as long as you’re there when he wakes.

[heartririmuarchive]

SHU YAMINO X READER ; Not This Time

shu should’ve perfected his time traveling magics before inviting you to tag along.

angst & fluff! tw: shu losing you (briefly)

“So, this spell can take us back to the past? As in… any time, any place we want?” Your brows are raised, a skeptical look making your features scrunch up (rather adorably, in Shu’s opinion).

“Within reason, yes..” Shu states, his usual catlike grin sweeter somehow as he gazes at you. His hands are clasped in front of him, and he might’ve been the picture of innocence if it weren’t for the way his eyes glinted with excitement and mischief as he watched you. He tends to be.. Softer, when you’re around. It’s something you’ve only just noticed, though you’re pretty sure Shu doesn’t even realize it himself. That’s just as well, if you ever brought it up to him, you’re sure he’d deny it completely.

Shu clears his throat, continuing. “Like, we can’t go anywhere where our past selves were in that moment. Something.. Ah, something about..” Should he make a Doctor Who reference? He shouldn’t. But he does. “Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey—” You groan and smack his arm dramatically, and Shu can’t help but chuckle as you glare up at him in mock annoyance.

“I will forever hold a grudge against Vox for showing you that fucking series.” You grumble halfheartedly. Shu shrugs, an easy smile curling on his lips as his right hand comes up to pat you on the head absently.

“Not sorry for being a geek, and it will happen again.” Shu says teasingly, eyes twinkling with joy. Mere moments later, he’s whispering an incantation under his breath, one that is foreign to you. From a poof of purple smoke appears a large black leather bound book. The large tome falls into his awaiting hands, and the sorcerer presents it to you with a flourish.

You raise a brow, eyeing the book suspiciously. It’s not as though you don’t trust Shu… You just don’t trust a spell that he’s never tested out for himself. Still, the way his eyes sparkle with excitement and anticipation makes you want to forget all of your apprehension and just roll with it.. So, begrudgingly, you do.

“Alright. Alright, fuck it!” You laugh. Shu’s grin sharpens into his natural smirk, and he taps the page with the pointed nail of his index finger.

“Then,” Shu breathes pausing for dramatic effect, “let’s do this thing.”

This wasn’t the plan. You weren’t supposed to get separated during the time traveling process, not in a way that would make it difficult to find each other. Shu has been searching for upwards of an hour now, and he’s starting to get antsy. The panic is creeping up on him like a cat playing with a mouse, shooting sharp little sparks of anxiety through his bones with every passing second. You two hadn’t jumped that far in the past, just into the late 90’s to test the spell out for safety purposes, so why—?

“Shu..? Shu!”

Upon hearing his name in that oh so familiar voice, Shu immediately turns around to see you making your way through the bustling crowd of people and closer towards him. When you’re finally at arms length, Shu reaches out and grabs you by the wrists, tugging you into him and wrapping his arms around you protectively. You choke on a cry, leaning into his hold as you desperately seek out his familiar touch. Unbeknownst to you, he’s using his magic to check you over for any injuries or trauma you might’ve sustained during time traveling.

“I’m.. Really glad that you’re okay.” He exhales, his shoulders sagging in relief when he finds that you’re mostly unscathed. You nod your head against his shoulder, trembling slightly. There’s so many people around the both of you that nobody really seems to notice nor care that you two are there, or perhaps they can’t see you due to Shu’s magic? You aren’t sure. You don’t really care enough either way. You cling to Shu, fighting back tears that had been threatening to fall.

“Mm. Me too, I really.. I didn’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t find you. I thought I was gonna be lost here forever!” You let out a watery laugh, sniffling as one of shu’s hands comes up to rub comforting circles into your back. He nods, sighing with a guilty smile.

“I guess this is my bad. I’ll give this time traveling spell a solid 50% on its success… and I’ll test it on myself a few more times before inviting you to tag along again, okay?” He says softly, still keeping you close to him. You nod, feeling the air around you shift as Shu begins to chant the incantation that will send you both back to present time.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

[ireadwithmyears]

the art of experience: part 2 the lesson

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Commander Cody/fem reader

Previous | Next | Series Masterlist

Word count: 7K

Tags/warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) smut, dom/sub dynamics, male masturbation, light humiliation, one singular spank, fingering, piv sex, orgasm delay/denial, that’s not how the force works/inappropriate use of the force, brief cockwarming, aftercare

Summary: Cody teaches you and Obi-Wan that punishment and pleasure can sometimes go hand-in-hand

Authors note:Well, I haven’t officially participated in Kinktober, but considering it’s almost over, and this series is just beginning, this feels like a pretty solid way to end it off. Also, a little Halloween treat for you all. I hope it’s a good one🎃

“Well?”

Cody’s voice holds a note of expectation. The single syllable is offered up as a question you know in reality is closer to a demand for an explanation, not that you really find yourself the slightest bit equipped to piece one together

Not when he’s reaching across to touch you. Not when his fingers are skating along the curve of your ass and effortlessly gliding between your folds. Not when they sweep through to collect the arousal that’s gathered there, causing you to whimper as they just barely graze over your clit, and definitely not when you turn your head to watch as he guides them between Obi-Wan’s lips, patiently watching as the other man’s eyes flutter closed and he sucks languidly on the two digits.

“What happened?” Cody’s voice is a nudge, prompting you again, and your cheeks flush, eyes darting down to watch your hands still clenched tightly within the sheets.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you mumble, not knowing what else to say. “I-I didn’t mean to.”

“Hm.”

The noise is quiet, but filled with an underlying skepticism that makes your stomach churn. You’re still looking away, so you don’t see his hand retreat from Obi-Wan’s mouth. You don’t see the swift way in which it moves and pulls back, but you do feel when it lands—connecting against your ass in a quick, stinging spank.

You let out a surprised squeak, your eyes widening as you’re torn between indignation and enjoyment, finding strangely enough that you almost want for him to give you another.

Odd, you think. That’s definitely something to experiment with later.

“Was I asking for an apology, mesh’la?” he asks, taking your chin in his hand and forcing you to look up into stern, hardened, amber eyes.

“No,” you say slowly, biting your lip and swallowing hard. “But-but I still am, sir.”

“I’m sure you will be,” he muses, his voice seeming to lighten in tone which only ratchets up your nerves. “What are you sorry for, cyar’ika?” 

“F-for coming without your permission, sir,” you murmur, biting the inside of your cheek guiltily.

“Mm,” Cody hums in thought, and it takes all your control not to frustratedly point out that if Obi-Wan hadn’t been so determined—apparently to push you over the edge—then maybe this wouldn’t have happened. 

No, you scold yourself harshly. You don’t want to leave with one of their first impressions of you being that you act like a petulant child when things stop going your way. You’ve made your bed. You redirect your thoughts, trying to shake it off. Now put on your big-girl PJs and lie in it.

“Sit up.”

Cody’s voice is crisp, his look one of expectation as he looks down at you. “I want you on your knees.”

He’s left you with no room for hesitation, and you don’t want to leave him with any room to be further disappointed. So, despite your confusion at the swift redirect, you push yourself up on your elbows, tucking your knees beneath you and leaning back on your heels, looking up at him from the edge of the bed with a mix of nerves and curiosity.

“Sit straight,” he continues. “Hands behind your back.”

Silently you do as you’re told, still unsure but not having a reason to hesitate.

“It’s a shame,” Cody says conversationally. “I would have liked to have finished in your mouth. But I think you’ll have to show me that you’re deserving of that privilege.”

He reaches down, taking himself in hand. He’s still prominently hard, glistening from the efforts of your mouth. 

“This will have to do,” he says in a soft, disappointed sigh, his other hand lightly cupping one of your breasts before giving your nipple a soft tug, just enough to pinch, watching as it hardens between his fingers. A soft groan falls from his lips as he releases you, turning back to the attention of his firmly erect cock, his hand tightening around it as he strokes, movements quick and deliberate. His thumb occasionally sweeps over the tip, circling just enough to tease, causing his breath to stutter as his speed becomes more frantic.

Watching him work is mesmerizing, but you find—looking down with slight disappointment—that you wish it were your tongue and your mouth giving him what he craves instead. 

“Eyes up here, cyar’ika,” his voice is a slightly sharp command, and your eyes instinctively jump to look back up at him as he pumps himself, his movements growing vigorous and desperate.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he groans, his voice a quiet, pleased rumble. “Want to see the look on that pretty face when I come all over you.”

Seconds later, his wish is granted. His release coats your chest in a hot, white stream of liquid, causing your eyes to widen and your lips to part in a gasp as it makes contact. He strokes himself through his orgasm, his breathing labored and his eyes unfocused with lust as they remain locked on you, the mesmerizing way in which you shudder as he paints your breasts with his release, watching as it slowly trickles down towards your belly button, your nipples peeking out pink and stiff as he takes in the sight.

“Beautiful,” he breathes once he’s recovered himself enough to speak. “You’re to leave that there,” he says, a casual order that says he expects nothing more than complete obedience. 

You blush, looking down at yourself with a slight mix of humiliation at how messy you look and feel, with his release becoming sticky and cooling as it clings to your skin, but also something else. Knowing that you’re what he chose to look at as he surrendered to his pleasure makes you feel wanted—sexy and desirable in a way that you have rarely felt before.

“Yes, sir,” you say in a quiet murmur, resisting the urge to wrap your arms around yourself as you lightly shudder beneath his piercing gaze. It lingers for a moment before drifting, landing on Obi-Wan who’s been sitting quietly with his legs crossed behind you as he watches.

“Someone has been uncharacteristically patient,” Cody murmurs, his tone amused but also somewhat suspicious. 

Obi-Wan, who plays the part of the wise, patient Jedi Master so well all the time, is allowed to let go of that here and let pure instinct, desire, and want take over to manifest in whichever way feels natural to him in the moment. This patience that he’s displaying now, Cody can tell, is quite honest and sincere, though he’d be remiss not to suspect ulterior motives behind it.

“Trying to show off and act like a good boy for our guest, Obi-Wan?” Cody asks with a smirk, fingernails raking through the other man’s hair, lightly scratching against his scalp and feeling his head tilt, leaning into the touch in response.

“Quite possibly, sir,” he admits, barely stifling a smile as he looks up at Cody, his eyes mischievous but with pure underlying adoration beneath.

“Mm,” Cody considers, lightly taking his chin in his hand and tilting his head up for a quick peck against his lips. “At least he’s honest.”

“I was planning to have you on top,” Cody says moving back towards you, his hands softly coming to rest on your shoulders, “but I’d like to give your upper body a rest.” 

One of his hands drifts, lightly running through the remnants of his release that’s settled in between your breasts, and the expression on his face is sinful as he leans forward, pressing a teasing, barely there kiss to the corner of your mouth before giving you a gentle nudge, easing you down until you’re lying on your back. “Let’s put Obi-Wan to work for a bit, hm?” he asks, something soft playing on his lips as he looks between the two of you.

“Wouldn’t say no to that, sir,” you admit sheepishly, only realizing now that he’s guiding you to lie down that your shoulders and back are slightly stiff from where they’ve had to arch for a prolonged amount of time. His hands caress from your shoulders, slowly running down your arms as he gives your biceps a light squeeze, your eyes closing in response to the touch.

“Lift your hips for me, dearest,” Obi-Wan directs softly, and without thinking, without even opening your eyes with curiosity to watch what he’s doing, you do, and a second later feel a pillow slide beneath your raised hips, Obi-Wan’s hands gently coaxing them to settle back down on top.

“Comfortable?” he asks, and you let out a small, surprised noise as you feel his lips and the light, enticing scratch of his beard pressing against your hip, trailing along your stomach.

“Y-yeah,” you manage to respond with only a small hitch in your voice, but judging by the sound of his soft chuckle, feeling it rumble slightly against your skin, he’s evidently still noticed.

“This is still a punishment,” Cody reminds you, his voice chiding. “For both of you. Don’t think I didn’t notice how much you were pushing her to come, Obi-Wan.”

“I would never,” Obi-Wan protests, sounding both on the verge of laughter and indignantly scandalized even as he looks up and tries to maintain the perfectly innocent look on his face.

“Don’t add lying to your list of crimes,” Cody scolds, and for your part, you feel slightly vindicated, knowing that it wasn’t just in your head that Obi-Wan was deliberately pushing you.

That vindication is short-lived, especially after Cody‘s next words.

“Obi-Wan, you are allowed to come, but you,” Cody raises a sharp eyebrow at you, “are not.”

“How is that fair?” 

The complaint falls past your lips before you can even think about it, and you’re pushing yourself up on your elbows to pout at him. “You’re telling me that I’m the only one being punished for this even though you know that he participated in it?”

“I was wondering when I would get to see the brat in you.” 

To your annoyance, Cody sounds completely unfazed, even a tad bit triumphant, as he folds his arms across his chest. “I knew it was there, just hiding.”

He fixes you with a hard look, reaching out a hand to gently but firmly push you back down against the bed. 

“You don’t think this is a punishment for Obi-Wan, sweetheart?” he asks, and the look on his face tells you that the question was rhetorical. You bite your tongue to remain silent. “Well, let me tell you that Obi-Wan gets most of his enjoyment and pleasure from your enjoyment and pleasure.”

He leans forward, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as his voice drops to a whisper. 

“Imagine how disappointing it’s going to feel for him when he gets to come, but is denied of being able to feel the way you tighten around him when you do, and the sounds you make because he’s making you come.”

You can’t help the way a small shiver runs through you, and your eyes instinctively widen. Well, when he puts it like that—and if what he’s saying is true, which you highly suspect it is just because of how intimately Cody is aware of his partner—it does sound like kind of a shitty deal, not that you’re ready to fully admit that, but you can except it.

“So, little one,” Cody‘s lips are at your throat, soft and gentle at first but quickly turning into a sharp bite at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “Still think he’s not being punished?”

“N-no, sir,” you say with a quick shake of your head, your voice sounding suspiciously like a squeak as he pulls back to look down at you, his thumb brushing over the mark that’s blossoming at your throat.

“Good.” He gives you a smile that is so warm it feels like sunlight physically caressing your skin. “And if you’re a very good girl,” he continues, his voice a low, husky murmur. “I may,” he pauses, allowing you to sit in anticipation as his lips pull into a smirk, “let you come on my cock. Is that understood, cyar?”

You murmur a soft agreement and he nods, satisfied as he moves back to give you and Obi-Wan space. 

“May I?” he asks softly, fingers gently stroking over your thigh, watching with keen interest as you shudder in response.

“Please,” you breathe, and that’s all the confirmation he needs. His fingers delicately trace a teasing circle around your folds but Obi-Wan, easily tempted by the wet trail he finds there, quickly parts your labia, letting out a soft, pleased sound as his fingers dip to gather your arousal, spreading it over you in teasing brushes until he’s satisfied.

He exhales a soft “oh” as a finger carefully breaches your entrance, his eyes intent as he watches it slowly push past the resistance it meets. “Still so tight,” he whispers, leaning forward to brush his tongue along the crease of your thigh just to watch you shiver and feel your walls clamp down around his finger in response.

“Not that I mind,” he continues, his lips quirked upward. “If I had it my way, I'd make you come on my fingers at least one more time.”

“Yeah, well, if you hadn’t been such a tease, m-maybe you would have gotten your way,” you snark, not truly bothered but enjoying the banter as you desperately try to buck your hips against his hand, seeking more than what he’s giving you.

“Oh my, someone is impatient,” Obi-Wan smirks. “Perhaps if you had exercised a little bit more control, you would have been able to handle it.”

He cuts off any remark you could have said in response to that by easing a second finger into you, his thumb curling slightly to tease your clit as he slowly stretches you out, making the only sound to fall from your lips a quiet moan.

“Do I need to find something more useful for both of your mouths to be doing?”

You both startle at the unimpressed tone in Cody‘s voice as he’s suddenly looming above you, one hand tangling in Obi-Wan’s hair and giving it a sharp tug in warning, his eyes displeased as he looks down at you.

“No, sir,” you rush to say, your cheeks heating.

“I’d be interested to see how you would accomplish that,” Obi-Wan muses curiously, fingers still diligently working you open for him as he looks up at the commander. “Considering the position we’re in.”

“Don’t push it,” Cody mutters darkly, leaning forward to nuzzle against Obi-Wan’s neck with lips and teeth, causing him to shudder. “You of all people should know how creative I can be.”

Cody steps back, sinking into an armchair that sits across from the bed as he casually spreads his legs, simply watching with interest. 

“Now get to it,” he orders, giving both of you a pointed look, “before I decide that neither of you deserve anything tonight.”

The “yes, sir,” he gets in response to that is both immediate and in unison, and he has to fight to keep his lips from turning upward into a wolfish grin as Obi-Wan settles between your legs.

“Reach down and take him in your hand,” Cody directs you as he observes, his hand resting on his thigh. “Good. Now, use him to tease your clit.”

You guide the head of his cock between your folds, slowly circling the firm, glistening tip around your clit. When you look up at him, Obi-Wan’s eyes are closed, his head tipped back as his lips part in a quiet, stammered breath. You wonder if this, both pleasure and denial at the same time is as tortuous for him as it is for you. You let out a soft “mm,” and Cody speaks again.

“Good girl,” he breathes. Is it your imagination, or has his voice dropped an octave? Either way, it makes you shudder, and his next words cause it to catch completely. “Now, use his cock to give it a few spanks for being such a naughty girl earlier.”

Your eyes go wide, and there’s a beat of hesitation as you feverishly work to process what he’s just said. Your cheeks are already on fire, and you wonder if he’s enjoying this. No, you know that he is, and one glance at him out of the corner of your eye shows you that your 

embarrassment might just be precisely why he’s enjoying it.

Then, just when he looks on the verge of getting to his feet, you blink, and rush to do as he says. You move your wrist so that Obi-Wan’s cock slaps against your clit in several quick, sharp spanks.

The result is instantaneous. 

The whimper that falls from your lips is both surprised and filled with a desperate need as your eyes go wide. Obi-Wan, his own breath stuttering, has a hand biting into the soft skin of your hip. The sensations are quick, intense jolts of pleasure that spike through your clit without any build up, leaving you only able to lie there and take each gasp and whimper as it hits you, which pleases Cody immensely as he watches your eyes lose focus.

You’re not sure if it’s the embarrassment of hearing the sounds you’re unable to stop yourself from making or the innate humiliation of being made to punish yourself by using Obi-Wan’s cock that causes your cheeks to burn. But regardless, you resist the urge to press your hands to your cheeks to shield them from their eyes when Cody finally nods to signal that you may stop.

“Obi-Wan,” Cody says, only speaking once your breathing has settled slightly and your eyes are closed. “You may begin.”

Obi-Wan, not needing much more encouragement than that, leans back slightly, smoothly guiding himself into position before he slowly, but in a controlled, powerful thrust, sheaths himself inside you, nuzzling his face against your neck and letting out a deep groan as he does.

“Beautiful girl,” he breathes, and his beard tickles against your skin, causing you to let out a small giggle that quickly dissolves into a soft moan as he pulls his hips back, every inch of him dragging through your walls before, just as patiently, just as eager to enjoy every inch of you constricting around him, he sinks back in, teasing both of you and basking in the quiet sounds of pleasure you make as he draws out the moment, continuing to punctuate each sound with a slow, controlled thrust.

You would think that feeling the innate stretch of him as he fills you would cease to shock you after the first few testing, languid thrusts, but it doesn’t. Not when his hips roll against you And he’s moaning against your ear, tongue tracing a lazy path along the shell just so he can feel your shiver. Not when his hips are pulling back and as he does, the pillow that bolsters your hips creating a perfect angle for him to drag against your G-spot. Not when his speed, inch by inch begins to build and increase, thrusts growing quick, short, and deep as he savors the feeling of how you hold onto him so perfectly.

“Look at you,” Obi-Wan breathes, leaning back, eyes transfixed by the way he disappears within you so beautifully after each thrust. His fingers delicately skim down your sides, settling at your hips as his eyes drag up your form, captivated as your chest heaves with uneven breaths. He reaches up a hand, running it from your stomach to your breast, cupping it gently and running his thumb along your hardened nipple, feeling you clench in response.

He leans in, his hand guiding your nipple to his mouth, tongue sweeping around it to tease before eagerly taking it between his lips, causing your back to arch and for you to let out a surprised, rather undignified squeak as he chuckles against you.

“I can still taste Cody on you,” he whispers, looking up at you as his tongue runs a slow trail along the underside of your breast. “Such a pretty mess.”

He drags his tongue between the valley of your breasts, making no effort to hide how much he’s enjoying tasting the commander on your skin, the rocking of his hips growing more insistent and demanding as your legs wrap around his waist, wriggling to meet each thrust as best as you can.

He begins to fuck you in quick, rough strokes that seem to be hitting every place inside you that you want, but for the sake of your dwindling control, you know that is the last thing that you need. And because he’s Obi-Wan Kenobi—because he knows the rules and is not going to break them—he is going to push you to the absolute edge of your limits as he dangerously walks the line between them, and his hand curiously dips between your legs.

Things feel hazy and disjointed as you teeter precariously on the edge, desperately trying to stave off your release without any help from Obi-Wan. You think you might make a noise in protest. He only shushes you with a soft kiss, his tongue, with a coaxing swipe, teasing its way past your parted lips as he moans into your mouth.

“Breathe,” he whispers against your skin, even as he grasps tightly to your hip so that he can drive himself into you with increased force. His thumb idly strokes along the hood of your clit, slow, predictable. But at this point, if your focus slips even for a second, it still might just be enough to tip you over the edge.

So, you listen. 

As Obi-Wan pounds into you and his rhythm becomes less controlled—as his head tips back and those blue eyes of his widen and become lost in pleasure, as barely restrained whimpers and moans fall from his lips—you breathe. Slow, deep and controlled, forcing your breaths to fake a calm that you do not feel. It’s all you can do to cling to them. They are the only things keeping you grounded in any semblance of reality as Obi-Wan pulls out and then in one swift movement buries himself inside you, hips continuing to twitch as stuttered noises fall from his lips and he releases, his cock pulsing as you feel him spill himself within your walls.

Miraculously, despite the fact that your walls are fluttering with temptation and expectant anticipation, you manage—with what feels like only a millimeter left of control—to stop your own release from following after his. The denial of it, going against all of your body’s instincts, urges, and wants, is about as disappointing as can be expected. But you are determined to persevere.

You let out a slow, cautious breath and slowly allow your eyes to open. 

Obi-Wan slowly, carefully eases himself out of you, both of you letting out simultaneous gasps as he does, his eyes fluttering shut. He leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss just above your brow, before easing his weight off of you, rolling onto his side and resting his head against your shoulder. You smile, contentedly rubbing your cheek against his hair as your eyes find Cody.

His countenance is pleased, the smile on his face warm as he observes you both, still in the afterglow of your activities. You also note, cheeky as your eyes drift downward, that it’s clear that he’s been enjoying the view, his hand loosely wrapped around his cock, which is once again standing firm and on display between his strong thighs. 

“When you’re ready,” he speaks quietly, his words directed towards you. “Come here, mesh’la.”

You nod, turning your attention back to Obi-Wan, your head dipping down to press several kisses against his forehead, his cheek, the tip of his nose which makes him smile fondly up at you, his eyes bright. 

“I’ll be alright,” he answers your unasked question with a small grin. “I’m quite looking forward to seeing this display.”

You smile, tilting your head to press one last chaste kiss to his lips before moving to the edge of the bed. You look back at him as you get up, and despite the way he’s smiling at you, despite the fact that you can feel his spend leaking down your thigh as you swing your legs over the side of the bed and get to your feet, there’s something in his eyes that states pretty damn clearly that he’s not wholly satisfied, even if he’d never admit it.

Hm, you think, maybe Cody was right. Maybe you’re not having been allowed to come had been just as much of a disappointment for him as it was for you.

You try to shake it off, but despite your best efforts, Obi-Wan’s wide, longing eyes follow you even as you walk away from him and settle yourself in Cody‘s lap, his arms guiding you around so that you’re sitting with your back pressed against his chest.

“What is it, lovely?” Cody asks, evidently picking up on your energy without you even saying a word.

“Obi-Wan looks... lonely,” you say quietly, troubled eyes darting to the Jedi Master who has shifted on the bed with his legs crossed, watching with curiosity. “I just don’t want him to feel left out,” you admit, looking down.

“I won’t be, sweet one,” Obi-Wan’s soft murmur cuts through your thoughts, and you tentatively look up to meet his gaze. “The Force allows me to still partake in the experience even if I am not an active participant. Besides,” the grin that pulls at the corners of his mouth is devilish, “even if I were just to sit back and enjoy the view, I would still find it just as gratifying. You both really are a beautiful sight to behold.”

“Oh,” you mutter, ducking your head as your cheeks heat. Despite the fact that minutes ago he had been buried inside you, knowing that the Force allows him to feel, in some sense, exactly the effect of what he’s doing to you, or what Cody might do to you, you can’t help but flush a little.

“You are a sweet thing,” Cody murmurs, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you tightly to him, his lips against your neck trailing up towards your ear. “If he had been teasing me half as much as he had teased you, I don’t think I’d be so considerate,” he whispers, letting his teeth graze over your earlobe and causing you to jump slightly, letting out a small giggle.

“Because this pretty girl is so thoughtful,” Cody says, raising his voice slightly so that Obi-Wan can hear, “you are allowed to touch yourself, if you desire it. But you can’t come until she does, clear?”

“Crystal,” Obi-Wan grins, giving him a thumbs up.

Cody must send him some sharp look of rebuke that indicates he does not appreciate the breach of protocol at this time, and it’s Obi-Wan’s turn to blush, glancing down at the comforter. “I-I mean yes, sorry, sir.”

Cody hums, but quickly turns his attention back to you, satisfied that Obi-Wan will remain obedient for the time being. 

He can be good,” he murmurs, his voice low against your ear. “And you can be quite impatient.”

You follow his gaze downward to where your hips, of their own accord, have shamelessly begun to shift against him, seeking the firm press of his erection against you. You blush, and you swear you can feel your ears go pink. But really, Cody seems more amused than anything as his hands settle at your hips, taking control of your movements.

“Let’s fix that.”

Without pause, he’s lifting you up and, only giving you time to let out a surprised gasp as he swiftly but carefully eases you back down onto his cock, your sharp inhale turning into nothing but a soft, needy whine as the head stretches your entrance and pushes inside.

Once he’s settled inside you, and every inch of his cock is snuggly nestled within your walls, he doesn’t immediately begin to bounce you up and down on his length as you had anticipated he would. Instead, he remains still, letting you adjust to the size of him, his chin dropping to rest against your shoulder, eyes locked where the two of you are joined and letting out a low groan as he feels you spasm around him.

“Look at Obi-Wan,” he whispers, nipping at your shoulder. “Such a desperate boy, and it’s all for you, mesh’la.”

Your heavy-lidded eyes flutter open to find that Obi-Wan, leaning back against some pillows, is lazily stroking himself, already half hard. You have to wonder if Jedi have some sort of Force-given ability to have much quicker refractory periods than a standard human, considering how quickly Obi-Wan seems to have recovered, and for obvious reasons, this added benefit of being able to wield those powers isn’t openly discussed. Either way, you’re not complaining, because he makes for a mouthwatering sight.

His eyes are closed as he seems to be avidly tuned into sensations that are beyond both you or Cody’s comprehension, or, you think, are exactly the sensations that you and Cody are feeling at this moment.

Curious, you wonder, suddenly needing to test this theory. Keeping your eyes locked on Obi-Wan, you deliberately tighten your walls, constricting around Cody and hearing his stuttered breath in response and feeling the way the grip on your hips suddenly becomes bruising. 

Obi-Wan, at the same time, seems to have a full body shudder in reaction, his eyes going wide as he looks up at you, his hand momentarily going slack from where it had been previously lightly fondling his balls, a soft whimper falling from his lips.

“Oh, your thoughts positively sing upon the realization. Now isn’t that fun? 

But despite this, the desperation of your denied orgasm has not faded. In fact, the heated, firm stretch as Cody fills you with every inch of him, is making your mind become fuzzy. You’re only able to focus on how it feels to be so wonderfully and completely stuffed full with him inside you.

Your hips are moving with not much conscious thought to guide your actions and only a wild, untamed instinct as your need for release grows and he continues to hold completely still. You try to work yourself on him, tempting him with enticing, desperate little circles as you wiggle your hips in an effort to gain more, but his control appears to have no less than an iron grip, despite the fact that his eyes are blissfully closing.

An arm snakes around your waist, pulling you back so that you’re pressed flush against him, no longer able to move as your hips are pinned. 

“No squirming, sweetheart,” he scolds, giving you a slight squeeze, just enough to show you that you’re not going anywhere. “You’ve already come without permission. So now you don’t get to come the way that you want. You’re going to come exactly in the way that I want you to, and right now, I want you to come for me just like this.”

Your eyes widen, and it’s embarrassing the way you have to physically bite back the impulse to actually let out a whine. But he’s still going to let you come, you remind yourself. You just can’t imagine how you’re supposed to get there when he’s refusing to let you move. As if in answer to your question, a hand drifts between your legs, idly stroking along your thigh, before calloused fingers are lightly pressing against your clit, drawing slow, small circles that cause you to whimper before you can even register the noise.

“Obi-Wan,” Cody says, taking you off-guard. “If I lift her just a little bit, would you be able to hold her there?”

Obi-Wan must give some sign of ascent, and you’re still frantically trying to piece together what the kriff he’s trying to accomplish when Cody’s hands are back on your hips, pulling you up slightly and creating a brief white-hot flicker of friction that you’ve been craving before he pauses, letting go of one of your hips but incredibly and to your disappointment, you don’t slide back down onto him.

Instead, your body is seized with the strange feeling of being held despite the fact that there’s nothing visibly there to hold you up. You’re suspended there but miraculously feel somewhat cradled, allowing you to rid yourself of the need for your muscles to tense up or fight against it.

“Perfect,” Cody’s voice is a soft rumble, tight with anticipation. “That’s exactly how I want you.”

With that, one of his hands is returning to your hip, though you quickly realize it’s more for him to hold onto than to hold yourself up, and with a slow, controlled lift of his hips, he’s gently thrusting up into you, letting out a low moan.

His pace is both sensual and unhurried as he rhythmically continues to roll his hips against you, allowing every slow, deep thrust to let you feel each press of his pelvis against your ass. The flush of his heat, the drag of his cock as Cody takes full advantage of this angle, lets his hips buck up into you and stroke places hidden deep inside. The build that stirs within the pit of your stomach is slow as it creeps up on you, but is nonetheless just as tantalizing and just as intense, if not more.

“Sir,” you cry out, and Cody chuckles, hearing the note of desperation that rings clear in your voice.

“What is it, cyar,” he murmurs, his voice teasing. 

“I, ooh,” you cut off your own words with a gasp-moan at Cody’s next thrust, sharper and more intense as the head of his cock nudges against somewhere that makes your toes curl and your mind go blank.

“Can’t use your words already?” Cody tsk’s, though he doesn’t sound too disapproving of that fact. “Poor girl. What am I going to do with you?”

He smirks, answering his own question as his hand runs a teasing path down your stomach, causing you to squirm in place before his fingers dip lower, returning to your clit.

“Isn’t this pretty?” he muses, as two fingers press against the hardened bundle and roughly begin to circle against it, no longer coaxing, but commanding every ounce of your pleasure as he continues to thrust, his pace steady. 

You moan helplessly, your hips instinctively bucking against his hand as he plays with your clit. Cody lets out a growl, the pleased sound reverberating in his chest as his other hand moves to tighten its grip on your hip, keeping you still and as he wants you.

“You gonna come, sweetheart?” Cody asks, as if he doesn’t already know the answer, giving your clit a slight flick with his fingers just to feel your walls twitch.

“Yes,” you cry out, your voice coming out in a high, unrestrained whimper. “Please, sir, please.”

“Already begging, and I didn’t even have to ask.” Cody’s tone is amused. “Needy little thing.”

Your cheeks burn, but at this point, you’re too far gone and too unashamed to even register it. 

“Since you’ve been good,” Cody begins, deliberately dragging out his words as he pretends to consider, circling your clit with skilled fingers. “And since you beg so nicely.”

He pauses, taking a moment to enjoy the next rock of his hips as he thrusts deeply up into you, holding himself there as his fingers continue to stroke. 

“Come for me,” he whispers, voice rough against your ear as he fills you completely. “Be a good girl and come all over my cock.”

Well, you certainly don’t need much more encouragement than that. 

Letting out a sound that could be classified as either a whine of relief or a scream, your back arches, your stomach muscles going tense as his words cause the dam to immediately shatter.

The pleasure that pulses through you is white hot, causing your legs to shake and your ears to start ringing. Cody is so deep, his cock persistent as it firmly presses against a spot within you that has you seeing stars that dance behind your tightly closed eyelids.

It feels endless and all encompassing, and Cody only seems to drag it out when he resumes his thrusts, his speed becoming rough and sharp as he repeatedly buries himself deep within your walls, his own release imminent.

When he comes it’s with a low, satisfied groan, burying his face against your neck as his cock spasms, feeling the warmth of his seed as it fills you.

If you could bring yourself to open your eyes, you would find that Obi-Wan has thrown his head back, his eyes still closed and his lips parted as Cody’s pleasure combining with your own and sweeping through the Force like a tidal wave have seemed to completely do him in. You hear his whimper though and the sounds he makes as he’s tipped over the edge and follows you both into this suspended world of pleasure when he releases.

Obi-Wan, still managing to hold on to some impeccable sense of control, slowly lets you sink back down, fully lowering you onto Cody’s cock, causing a broken whimper to fall from your lips as you do. Cody’s arms are around you, and when you eventually manage to come back to yourself, they are warm and secure.

Cody’s movements are careful as he allows himself to slip from you, though somewhere in the back of your mind, a small noise of protest still manages to slip past your lips anyway. He shushes you, dipping slightly to press a slow, almost reverent kiss to your forehead as he scoops you up into his arms and carries you back to the bed.

He doesn’t even set you down before Obi-Wan’s arms reach for you, pulling you against his chest as you curl up against him and Cody smiles, fingers running through the Jedi’s hair as he looks down at the two of you.

“I’ll be right back,” he says softly, leaning forward to brush his lips first with Obi-Wan’s and then with yours, slow and unhurried. “Just need to get something to clean both of you up a little, okay?”

You both manage to mumble somewhat coherent responses, because Cody’s quiet footsteps retreat, and a moment later, there’s a sound of water running from the attached fresher.

“You did beautifully,” Obi-Wan breathes, nuzzling against your hair as he holds you close. 

“So did you,” you murmur, voice slightly muffled against his chest as you beam up at him, cheeks still glowing softly.

He looks down at you, and both his smile and his eyes are bright. You both exchange satisfied grins, Obi-Wan leaning forward to press a kiss against the tip of your nose. His beard tickles slightly, causing you to let out a quiet snort, your cheeks immediately heating, then both of you simultaneously fall into soft laughter until Cody returns.

“I do hope you’re not embarrassing our guest, Obi-Wan,” Cody teases, re-entering the room and taking in your flushed cheeks. “Considering we actually want her to come back.”

Your heart warms a little, knowing that they want this to be more than a one time thing, because in the back of your mind, this whole time, no matter how confident you became, you had wondered if you hadn’t lived up to their expectations. But sensing both of them now, you find that it’s easy to dismiss your fears as unfounded.

You allow yourself to go boneless, limp, and relaxed as Cody sits on the edge of the bed gently running a damp, warm washcloth over your chest and stomach, eyes closed as he cleans you up.

You flinch a little, and your leg instinctively moves to kick out when he runs the cloth closer to the apex of your thighs. Cody hums a quiet apology, movements gentling further, eyes intent as they observe your face for any continued sign of discomfort. After a moment, your eyes flutter closed once more.

Cody repeats this process with a clean cloth retrieved for Obi-Wan. Their voices are quiet and familiar, as if this is a routine they’re well acquainted with.

Despite the sheen of sweat that has settled on your skin, you find that you’ve begun to tremble, adrenaline leaving you feeling chilled. Cody is so warm as he crawls in on your other side, chest pressing flush against your back as he tugs a thick comforter over the three of you, arm settling around both you and Obi-Wan.

You don’t mean to, really, you don’t. But they’re so warm, and they’re so gentle, and you’re just so nicely sandwiched between the two of them. Obi-Wan’s fingers are so soothing as they stroke through your hair, and Cody is leaving soft, scattered kisses against the back of your neck and shoulder and it just...happens.

You’re asleep before you even have the sense to tell them that you’re tired. 

Neither of them mind a bit. 

“So.” Cody’s voice is low and quiet as he looks up at Obi-Wan, still stroking your hair in the dim light. “How do you think that went?”

Obi-Wan tilts his head, his expression thoughtful for a moment before his eyes turn soft, looking up at Cody with big blues that have a 100% guarantee of making him melt every single time.

“Can we keep her?” Obi-Wan asks, and it’s adorable the way his arms tighten around you, his voice turning pleading and hopeful, as if there was ever a chance that Cody would say no.

Cody‘s head falls back, and he lets out a low chuckle that rumbles through his chest, causing you to stir slightly. He stills, watching you intently for any further signs of waking, but you only let out a quiet sigh, nuzzling your cheek against Obi Wan‘s chest as you sleep on.

“Well, if the lady is agreeable.” Cody tilts his head, fingers idly reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair that’s falling into your eyes. “If the lady is agreeable,” he murmurs again, carefully leaning across you to press a kiss to the top of Obi-Wan‘s head, his eyes warm and fond.

“Then I would say that I’d like that very much.”

•if you enjoyed this, please consider dropping me a reblogg of this fic. It would be very much appreciated. Thank you💞

[medicinemane]

Yo Phoenix, guess what crazy asshole just walked from the 24th street station at the airport all the way to downtown?

Had to stop at a dollar general on Van Buren to grab a pair of waters so I wouldn't die but I made it

[yooniesim]

amari's love shot; a bachelorette challenge

Are you ready to find love in the beautiful seaside town of Tartosa? Amari Walden, successful model and wedding photographer, is looking for her Mr. Right! Known for her appearance on the hit reality show Becoming Mrs. Blackburn 2, Amari is back a year later to take another shot at love. Will you capture her attention and develop a picture perfect romance?

About The Bachelorette

Amari is a 37 year old biracial black-indian woman with two amazing children, a loving family, a successful business, and a beautiful home in Tartosa. It seems like she has it all, but she longs for just one more thing: a loving partner to share her life with! You can read more details about her likes, dislikes, personality, and backstory here. Since BMB2, she's been focused on her family once again; spending time with them and proudly witnessing her oldest daughter, Prisha, graduate high school and leave for college. Her younger daughter, Maria, has come around on the idea of her mother finally finding love... as long as she also approves of the man in question, of course. And so, Amari has committed to trying the reality show thing just one more time. She's looking for a kind, mature man that respects her and her children, loves to laugh, and has a taste for the finer things in life.

Submission Post Guidelines

Sims must identify as men; anything else re: gender doesn't matter

YA-Adult human sims only (sorry my occult loves)

Maxis match hair only, all other cc can be mm or alpha (my style is maxis mix)

1 everyday outfit, 1 formal, and 1 swimwear at minimum; you can dress for every category if you wish, and you can have as many additional outfits as you want after that if they use vanilla/EA clothing (all packs are fine)

No romantic traits allowed, please include one "negative" trait for fun, cc traits by kuttoe are allowed

Please include likes/dislikes (can be randomized if you like), cc preferences from mods are allowed

Skills are allowed (and encouraged!), if you don't want to give them in game, add them in their description and I'll handle the rest

Please give them a backstory/personality (even if it's a short one!)

Must be okay with me changing some cc if needed to blend them into my game (I won't change their facial features, body shape, etc)

Tag me in your submission posts and use the tag #amaribc so I can find them easier! If a day or so goes by and I don't reblog it, feel free to send me the post through my inbox or DMs.

Submission deadline is December 4th, 2023 (will be extended if needed)

Note: I'll be determining some parts of the challenge through actual gameplay, and some through storytelling/whatever I think will be fun. It won't be 100% random/me solely relying on the game. I learned my lesson with that when the game decided none of the men liked my last bachelor whatsoever... lmfao. Please keep this in mind when submitting!

[daddyyy88]

Secret’s out | Chris Sturniolo x y/n

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 1.7k

warnings: reader is drunk, reader is hungover, reader throws up, reader cries, ?

summary: you accidentally reveal you and Chris’s relationship to the public

You giggled as you walked out of the bar, drunk off your ass. You never drank much, and then when you started dating your completely sober boyfriend Chris you drank even less because it felt like the right thing to do in your opinion. He told you he didn’t care as long as you let him know and that you told him who you were with and that there was a designated driver.

Tonight, you convinced your designated driver to have a few too many shots and ended up drunkenly texting your boyfriend “Git Jen drunj. Pick ud up!’?” You couldn’t really see straight but you were pretty sure you got it right (Chris barely understood what you had typed).

10 minutes later he was outside of the bar, a sleepy but content Matt in the driver's seat park a little far away because the bar parking was packed. You’d feel terrible in the morning finding out you made him drive unnecessarily this late but he’d rather get you home safe than leave you to get home on your own.

“Hey, y/n” he said as you stumbled out, a drunken smile on your face as you looked at him with heart eyes. “No princess? I’m not your gorgeous girl anymore?” You slurred, tears filling your eyes. “Y/n, we’re in public” he said softly, brushing your hair back.

You sighed and said “it’s okay! It’s night time! People are sleepy!” You groaned and grabbed his face, kissing him softly. He initially wanted to cringe at the taste of vodka on your tongue but then you started to caress and squeeze his neck and he melted.

“Mm- mm mm shit- babe! Come on” he said and pulled you away from his face. You looked up at him with a pout, your eyes glassy. You sniffled and said “you don’t…you don’t looove me?” “No, baby I love you so much, I do. Let’s just get home” he said and you continued to pout.

“You don’t love me…” you said, looking down and folding your arms. He sighed and said “my gorgeous girl-” “no don’t call me t- that. Y-You won’t kiss meee in public” you said through hiccups. He cupped your cheeks and lifted your head up.

You looked up at him and he pecked your lips quickly and you smiled. He smiled too and said “let me pick you up. The car is a far walk away” You yawned and he scooped you up, walking down the street to take you to the car.

You kept kissing him but he wasn’t super anxious about it because it was so late he thought it wasn’t possible anyone would catch you two. He put you in the car and you slept with your head on Nick’s lap, snoring a little which made Chris unable to keep his eyes off you.

Nick rolled his eyes and said “this is so disgusting” “shhh! You’ll wake her up” he said, reaching over to stroke your cheek. You smiled a little, a sleepy whimper coming out as you curled up even more. He blushed and Nick sighed, making Matt giggle.

You got home and clung onto him the whole time, making him carry you all over the house as you giggled into his neck and kissed all over his face. He sat you down on the counter and wiped off your makeup and gave you some medicine to hopefully help when you wake up with a hangover.

When he finally got you in bed, you fell asleep almost immediately, cuddling into him once he got in bed too. He kissed your head, rubbing your warm back and listening to you mumble in your sleep, blushing when you said his name.

When you woke up you were really nauseous, and Chris was already downstairs making breakfast. You cringed even more at the smell and said “baby?” as you rubbed your eyes and yawned.

He turned around and smiled at how cute you looked with your puffy little lips and messy hair. “Hey,” he said, kissing your cheek. You groaned, hugging him tight. He picked you up and said “you feeling sick?”

“Yea” you said, sighing softly. He set you down on the counter next to him and you said “what are you making?” “Just eggs and toast” he said and you smiled. He handed you more medicine and you kissed him as a thank you.

“Gross!” Nick said, coming downstairs. You blushed and said “shut up, loser” Nick scoffed and threw a sock at you. Chris covered you and said “hey, stop” You nearly swooned, Chris was so ridiculously protective and it genuinely made you melt. He was standing up to his own brother who threw a tiny little sock at your leg of all places simply because he didn’t want anything bothering you.

Matt came downstairs and dapped you up, groaning when you ruffled his hair up. Chris gave you breakfast and stood between your legs as you fed him half of your breakfast, even though he kept trying to make you eat.

“Guys? Have you checked your phones?” Nick said and you shook your head. Chris grabbed his phone and opened it checking Instagram, assuming maybe there was some new update “I don’t understand, nothings different” he said and Nick showed him a tiktok.

Your stomach dropped, you could see the two of you outside of that bar last night and then you started kissing on him and practically hanging off of him and then you watched your pouting and then he picked you up and you two kept kissing and just kept on fucking kissing.

You jumped off the counter, running up to his bedroom. You locked the door behind you, breathy and strained whimpers leaning your mouth. You knew you’d fucking do this. You’d fuck up and ruin everything and expose your relationship before Chris wanted to.

Your chest felt so tight, you could barely fight the tears because of how upset you were with yourself. “Baby! Baby, hey it’s okay. I’m not upset, can you please open the door” he said and you sighed shakily. You felt so nauseous now, you ran to the toilet and threw up.

The stress combined with your hangover didn’t mix well, and you felt like crap. Chris managed to jiggle the cheap lock open, and ran to your side in his bathroom. “My love, hey, hey it’s okay breathe” he said and rubbed your back, holding your hair.

You groaned and coughed a few times, your entire body shaking as you tried to push him away. “Stop it,” you whined, you didn’t want to see him because you didn’t want him to be mad at you or break up with you.

“No, you stop. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere” he said and you shook your head, sighing as you flushed the toilet. You stood up and brushed your teeth, your entire body vibrating.

“Honey, why are you shaking? Everything is gonna be fine” he said and you just ignored him, you didn’t want to talk about it and you were so sick of him always pretending that he’s not mad at you. He’s never once gotten upset with you and you just can’t stand it. Why is he so calm around you?

You tried to leave the bathroom but he stopped you, picking you up and placing you on the counter. “I’m not upset wit-” he said and you rolled your eyes, trying to get off the counter and away from him. He scoffed and said “Y/n, what the hell? Stop fighting me”

“No, you always do this! Every time I fuck up or something you just talk to me and that’s it you never yell at me or get angry you’ve never even breathed differently when I did something wrong, and this is as bad as it fucking gets. Why can’t you just get mad at me and why the hell are you still with me?!?” You yelled, your vision was so blurry and you almost couldn’t hear or something, and holy crap your mouth was dry.

“Y/n, hey, hey look at me,” he said and you locked eyes with him, looking around his face frantically and trying to blink away the blurriness. He gently grabbed your hands and breathed with you, talking to you so softly and bringing your mind back from the panicked state.

He’s weirdly grateful that growing up with Matt taught him how to also help you when you had moments of anxiety or even attacks like this one. He was holding you now, and you weren’t fighting him, which told him you’d given up.

“I don’t get mad at you because I don’t like to see you upset or sad and I don’t want to make you sad either, I think it’d kill me. I love you too much to want to be angry. Yelling and screaming isn’t healthy, either, you know? At least not every time you make a mistake. I understand when you do it it’s because you can’t help it and need to let it out. You don’t get mad at me nearly as often as you think, by the way” he said and you shook your head.

You sobbed and said “this is really bad…” “then so be it, my love. I don’t care who knows. At least I can kiss you in public now and touch your butt whenever I want” he said and you giggled, looking up at him.

“I’m sorry,” you said, more tears streaming down your face. He wiped them away and said “don’t be sorry. You didn’t know what you were doing, plus you were too cute for me stop you so it’s also my fault” you rolled your eyes and Matt and Nick popped into the room.

“Hey…” Matt said awkwardly. They got overly worried and couldn’t help but creep up to check on you two. Based on the fact that the door was opened the assumed things were decent. Chris looked over and said “it’s…it’s fine. We’ll deal with it. I’m not gonna let something so stupid make us so upset”

You sniffled and buried your head into his chest, the embarrassment of knowing everyone can see a video of you hanging off of Chris and kissing all over him like some clingy teenage girl hitting you like a truck. Nick chuckled at you and you flipped him off.

“Now you guys can kiss whenever. My life is ruined” he said and you giggled again. You played with his hands nervously and shoved Nick playfully. You stuck your tongue out and Chris shook his head as you said “you’re just jealous!” “Alright, babe, real mature” he said and kissed your head.

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes

CW!Bucky Barnes

Chris Evans

Geralt of Rivia

Henry Cavill

Chris Sturniolo

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

[rowenasdarling]

Day 4: Fog.

another fic using the “fog” prompt for day 4 selfshiptober. this one is set in my witch’s familiar au!

The call had been strong, insistent; impossible to ignore both for its magnitude and for the curiosity such magnitude is wont to evoke. I pad through the night, barely visible amongst shadows, sleek black in entirety except for the glinting green of my eyes which reflect a ghostly yellow through the fog. I don’t know where I’m going, but I know it’s the right way. I hope I’m the first one there. I hope whoever I find deems me worthy of the bond.

A woman with red hair sits at a table on her porch, one leg crossed over the other, sipping from an ornate teacup. Waiting. There’s an almost tangible ripple of energy around her. She’s the one I seek. And with no other hopefuls in sight, it seems I do have a chance to claim my prize, should she find me fit for purpose.

I sit at the bottom of the porch steps, tail curled around paws, looking up at her patiently. Patience is important; no witch wants a demanding familiar. Obedience, good temperament, willingness to serve. She notices me a moment later and a slow smile grows on her face.

“Felt the call, did you, dear?”

My head tilts slightly and I blink once, slowly. I don’t move from where I sit. If this goes well, I’ll be doing a lot of waiting for her to command me, so I might as well get a head start.

“Aye, thought so,” she continues, taking my obedience as confirmation. “Come here, then. Let me see you.”

As bidden, I trot up the steps and make my way towards her, then jump up onto the spare chair - she can get a proper look at me without hunching down this way. Her brows quirk in something like amusement and she gives me a once over. She reaches out, offering her hand, which I bunt gently; something about her touch feels right as she rewards me with a quick scratch behind the ear, but I withhold a purr. I don’t want to come on too strong.

“Well, you certainly look up to snuff this way,” she says, and I sit up a little straighter at the praise. “Show me the other.”

A light mist semi-obscures my form from vision as it twists, contorts, grows into something else. When it clears, dissipating into the evening fog, I sit opposite her passably human rather than passably feline, though I'm truly neither.

The witch’s gaze gives nothing away, but I'm careful not to squirm under her scrutiny. It’s a test, the whole thing. And she won’t have me if I don’t meet her standards.

“Have you had a witch before?” she asks.

“Never,” I reply, concise and to the point.

“But you’re willing?”

“I am. I will accept the bond if you offer it.”

I cringe internally at my eagerness, which could easily translate as desperation. Which it is, in a way; I'm verging towards the latter end of the acceptable age for a familiar to remain unclaimed and I'm keen to remedy it. Be that as it may, some witches don’t want desperate.

This witch, though, doesn’t seem put off. In fact, it almost looks like there’s something akin to triumph behind her eyes, but it could just be a trick of the light.

“My name is Rowena.”

“Rowena...” I repeat it back to her and notice how easily the syllables fall from my mouth.

“Mm,” she hums in approval, “and yours?”

The final test. Rowena doesn’t seem like some infant witch having her first dabble in the arts. She must know a familiar is nameless until its witch bestows upon it a designation.

“You tell me,” I reply.

The right answer, if her pleased smile is anything to go by.

“Hm. I think you’ll do nicely.”

tag list: @astral-express-family @dykenastasyafilippovna @bladedragonslayer @skyliv @hermitkisser @remedy-ships-it @tinplanets @cowsuponcows @lipsticklens @tothemoon-ships @winters-witch24

pls DNI if you post inc3st in any form whether fictional or not !!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Life in the City 6

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bad friends, creep behaviour, abuse of power dynamics, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You move to the big city and find yourself swallowed up by its chaos.

Characters: Clark Kent, Thor Odinson, short!reader

Note: <3

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you. No tag list, do not ask for updates.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Clark drops you off right at the front doors. You’re early. Typically the bus would drop you off a block away about ten minutes later. At least you have your own office to hang out in. 

You head into the office, your iced matcha latte condensating down your hand and wrist. You step off as you try to sop up the mess, distracted as you walk blindly to your cubicle. You stop at the empty desk and scoff at yourself. Your so forgetful sometimes. 

You continue down to your office and let yourself in with the key. You shuffle inside and slip your bag off your arm onto your chair. You swipe several tissues from the box and fold it under the cup, setting it down carefully on top of the layers. You shake the moisture from your fingers and go to your chair, moving your bag onto the desk as you search inside for your phone. 

“You need a coaster,” a deep timbre breaks the early lull. 

You look up as Thor stands in the doorway, smirking as he watches you. You offer a sheepish smile as you put your phone down and fish out your rose gold pen. You place is by your keyboard and find your agenda to put with it. 

“Huh, yeah, I could bring one from home,” you shrug. 

“Mm, and what flavour is that? It’s rather... bright,” he muses as he breaks the threshold slowly. 

“Oh, it’s matcha,” you back up as he comes closer, peering down over your monitors. 

“Hm, I’ve never had it. Perhaps one day I might indulge,” he says, “a nice treat to start the day. I’d have guessed something sweeter. You know, the cafe downstairs, they have a cinnamon roll latte. Oh, yes,” he pats his stomach under his jacket, “dangerous.” 

You offer a courteous laugh. You can’t help but be intimidated and slightly put off by his spontaneity. You didn’t expect him to just wander in. Nor can you keep him out; after all, he is your boss. He gave you this office. 

“I’ve actually never been to the cafe. Bit steep,” you say, “I suppose I should get started.” 

You roll the chair back and pivot it, lowering yourself slowly. He hovers as he is, turning to peer around the office. He sucks his teeth loudly and looks at his watch. As you peek up at him, he taps his fingers against his chin. 

“This place is so dull. So boring. It does not inspire,” he puts his hands up, stretching out his long fingers, “I believe that atmosphere is everything. My whole vision for this company is innovation and you can’t be creative with... grey walls.” 

You look between him and the walls. You didn’t choose the colour. You just took what you got. 

“Come, I think we need to do some important purchasing,” he snaps his fingers. “Coasters, don’t want rings,” he points down, “and some art.” He turns and makes a frame with his index fingers thumbs, “mm, and maybe a pop of colour elsewhere. A vase. Flowers always do liven a place up.” 

“Oh, well, I actually should...” your voice trails off. You should do what your boss tells you. “Sure, uh, I suppose I could push a few things.” 

“Yes, well, fits in nicely, as you always do,” he says, “I did break my mouse... they make those things much too small.” 

“Oh no,” you murmur, “let me just...” you grab your phone and put it back in your bag, a notification flashing back at you. Later. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to be running around.” 

You step out from behind the desk in your platform oxfords. He looks you up and down, “ah, I did wonder if you had a growth spurt. Late bloomer or something.” 

You can’t help but chuckle, “I wish.” 

You go to walk around your desk and he points past you, “don’t forget your drink.” 

“Oh, yeah, of course.” 

You take the cup, most of the condensation has soaked into the tissue. You throw the sodden kleenex in the bin and turn to Thor. You give a bright but shaky smile. You knew today would be a lot but with him, it’s all so fast. 

“Staples?” You wonder. 

“Hm, sure, I suppose they have what we need.” 

“Do you have an Apple computer? You could get one of their pads instead of a mouse,” you suggest. 

“Mm, clever,” he remarks as he waves you ahead of him, “already showing innovation.” 

“Well, it’s just a thought,” you say. 

“That’s where the best ideas begin,” he follows you out into the hall. “Never underestimate the small things,” he comes up beside you and brushes his hand across your lower back before dropping his arm straight, “they do surprise us.” 

🏙️

The tall shelves of the office depot tower over you. Most things do. You stop to admire the colourful gel pens, knowing they’re impractical, but still covetous of their glittery inserts. 

Your phone vibes in your bag just as you check the time. An hour into your day and all you’ve done is wander the store. It hardly feels like a promotion, it’s aimless. You’re just going along for the ride. Quite literally. 

‘Are you free tonight?’ The message expands at a tap. 

At first, you assume it’s Melanie. Clark’s name stares back at you, followed in quick succession by a second messaged. 

‘Wanted to start planning!’ 

You measure your response. You don’t have much going on but you’re already exhausted. The week is hardly midway and it’s been a whirlwind.  

You type with your thumbs as you sidle along, ‘tomorrow? Don’t have much energy.’ 

You lower your phone as you hear your name. For such a big man, Thor can sneak right up on you. He’s only a few feet away as he struts up with a full basket. Wow. You smile and press your cell to your leg. 

“You on the phone?” He asks as he approaches. 

“Oh, no, just... just a message,” you hit the lock button and put your phone in your pocket. “Nothing important. Sorry.” 

“Ah, don’t be. I get it. Boyfriend checking in?”  

You nearly scoff. You just shake your head, “what did you find?” You point to the basket and he quickly refocuses, lifting it higher to sift through the contents. 

“Coasters,” he fishes out a set of flower-shaped coasters and grins broadly, “I thought these were very you.” 

“Oh?” You take them and admire them, “cute.” 

“And I found this,” he pulls out another item, a long fluffy cloud looking piece of foam, “a wrist rest; ergonomical and all.” 

“Right, ha,” you chuckle thinly, “yeah, I like it.” As you look at it, it seems like it will only be in the way. 

“But then, you can’t have that without the mouse pad,” he plucks out another item, the same pale blue as the wrist pad. 

“Did you get your mouse?” You ask. 

“Mm, that’s where I require your input. I can’t quite decide,” he turns to lay out his options on the shelf, “I like the colour of this one but this one’s bigger and this one lights up.” 

He’s almost like a child as he explains; there’s just too many good things to choose from. You feel that pain but you’re not used to being the adult. Besides, isn’t he the boss? 

“Well, I would say whatever you think would be most comfortable. You said the old one was too small, right? And this one’s pretty hefty.” You point to the center one, “oh, and ergonomic, hey.” 

“Mmm,” he hums thoughtfully, “wise. Yes, I do think I’ve made the right choice.” 

He takes the center one and drops it into the basket before gathering the others. 

“I’ll put these back then we can head back to the office. I almost forgot we have work to do,” he laughs. 

You smile sheepishly and follow him. He takes his time putting away the accessories then you set out for the checkout. You’re nervous to start the real work. The hard-hitting stuff. 

“I’ve some numbers to go over with you when we get back. We’ll get all this set up first and go from there,” he says as he stands parallel to you as you wait in queue. 

“Oh, alright,” you cross your arms, “sounds good.” 

🏙️

As promised, your day is more than just an impromptu shopping spree. You put the stack of coasters at the corner of the desk and lay out the new mousepad and wrist rest. Your space is looking a lot more brighter.  

Your walls are even a little more colourful. As you review the files Thor sent you the day before, he hangs the modern art prints on the wall. You’re not entirely sure what the abstract shapes are supposed to be; maybe plants? 

When he finally sits down, the anticipation has you wound tight. He brings a chair around to your side of the desk and looks over your shoulder. Of all the meetings you’ve had in your time there, everyone has their own device, their own screens. His proximity is overwhelming along with the endless rows of numbers and graphs. 

“You’ll see here where Onyx Row was most successful. This should be where we focus. We’ve finally got all their data and so that will be your task,” he explains, “but it’s important to look into the low points too. It’s just as good to know what doesn’t work, eh?” 

“Yeah, of course.” 

He’s over explaining a bit. You’re an analyst. Your job is to look at it all. Maybe he doesn’t trust you just yet. After all, you are new. You don’t have the same experience as the rest of the team. It would explain why he’s spending so much time with you too. 

“So, how are you? Need a coffee yet? Tea?” He shifts his tone. It’s off putting how quickly he can swing from one extreme to the other. “I think I might hit the cafe downstairs as I mentioned.” 

“Really, I’m good,” you assure him, “that matcha’s got me jittering.” 

“Mm, another day then. You’ll let me know if you need anything?” 

“You’ve done so much already,” you smile, only then feeling how he grips the back of your chair, just behind your head.  

“Any good leader knows they don’t lead by demanding, they make it possible for their needs to be met,” he stands, a little too close then slowly steps back. “You have my extension, you know where my office is.” 

“Yes, sir,” you nod and grip your mouse tighter, “thank you.” 

You turn your attention to the monitor and listen to him leave. You feel as if you might melt with impatience. You just want him gone so you can relax for one minute. The door shuts and you slump back with a huff. 

You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into. This is a lot of work. Sure, having your own office is great but at what cost? This is senior-level stuff and you’ve only just begun. You only got your diploma a year ago. 

As nice as Thor is, he’s still your boss. He’s in charge. If you don’t meet his demands, it could ruin more than just your job here. It would cost you the only reference you have in the field. 

You try to calm yourself down at the lines and numbers blur in your vision. You’re scaring yourself. Everyone else has been super awesome and you’re just being you. You sit up and a knock comes at the door. Oh, jeez. 

“Come in?” You call. 

The door opens and Thor peeks around. 

“No coffee, but I couldn’t resist getting you something sweet,” he strolls in with a box in hand, “blueberry cinnamon scone.” 

“Wow, oh, I’ll have to have it for lunch, thank you,” you accept it and set it by the coasters. 

“For sure,” his grin beams down at you, “just some sustenance to keep you going.” He winks, “you’re in the big leagues now.” 

“Sure am,” you agree breathily, “er, thanks again.” 

“I’ll just get out of your way,” he raises his coffee cup just slightly, “I’ll be around.” 

He leaves you again. You roll closer to the desk and plant your elbows. You hold your head as your eyes bore into the monitor. If you stare long enough into the abyss, it will stare back into you. 

You finally get yourself going, falling into a rhythm as you click through the zipped folder. A lot of the information is poorly kept. You can assume a few reasons Onyx Row went under aside from their numbers. 

The work is tedious and you find yourself going back and forth. The distant noise of the office can't touch you through your excel glazed trance. You're vaguely aware of a buzz and voices but your furrowed brow blocks the world out. 

It isn't until a knock sounds and your name rips through your dry-eyed purgatory that you sit up straight enough to feel the crick in your neck. You reach to rub it as you squint at Thor. Back again? 

“Thought I saw light in here,” he comments, “working late already?” 

“Late?” You blink and look at the corner of your screen. Holy cow, it's six! “Uh… yeah.” 

“I'm… actually glad you're still here, there was something I wanted to touch on sooner than later.  Urgent, actually.” He pauses to check his expensive watch, “unless I'm keeping you from something? Someone?” 

“No, just the bus,” you save the files and exit out. 

“Hm, well, it is quite the conversation, maybe we might talk over dinner? It is late and you're probably too tired to cook, eh?” 

“I… that's… you don't have to–” 

“I do have a reservation and they have a policy,” he clucks and taps his watch, “you know, I'm getting a bit of a reputation for eating alone too.” 

You frown. You want to say know but how can you? Besides, he's offering you a meal, not like he's asking you to stay and finish sorting through a swamp of numbers.  

“Well, if it's urgent,” you stand and grab your phone, “I guess we should talk sooner than later.” 

“Wonderful,” he pats his stomach, “I forgot my lunch. I'm starving.” 

[bonezone44]

IMAGINE:

Uncle!Ezra getting ready for a night out. He parts his hair and combs it back with a little bit of gel. He doesn't shave, but he does trim his moustache and conduct some maintenance around the edges. He dabs on some Polo cologne. Puts on his nicest black t-shirt and dark blue jeans. He even cleans his work boots and puts on a matching leather belt. A gold watch and a gold pinky ring to match the gold pre-molar hiding in the back of his mouth.

You walk down the hallway in your pajamas and you can smell him along the cloud of steam escaping the bathroom. You barely recognize him when you turn the corner. He looks like a fantasy stepping out of your daydreams.

"Hey," he says nonchalantly as he checks his hair in the mirror.

"Hey," you answer back with an unintentional whisper.

He glances at you briefly. "Yeeeaaah, I'm goin' out with your pop and his friends." He tugs on his shirt hem. "Old man told me to clean up, but this is about the best I can do on short notice. I'm not sure why my presence is required at the VFW tonight, but I am not always privvy to your step-daddy's social machinations. For a man who never served, he sure loves to worship at the feet of those bootlickers who did." Ezra shrugs. "I, myself, am in it for the free beer and unconventional company." He chuckles to himself and turns to you.

You haven't stopped staring. You can barely move as your eyes drink him in. You were used to seeing him laze around the house, unshowered and wearing sweatpants, hair sticking up in every direction. You had no idea he even knew how to 'clean up.'

"Methinks she enjoys the view," he says with a smirk.

You shake your head nervously, trying to form words in your mouth "I just ... never... seen you like this."

He chuckles and steps closer. "Is it the rarity that has rendered you frozen or is it perhaps the comprehensive design of my presentation that you find intriguing?"

You're not sure what he's asking, but you reach forward and slip your finger through one of his belt loops, sliding against the smooth leather of his belt and gripping his hip with the rest of your hand. "You smell good." Your eyes wander his t-shirt--the fabric looks unworn, brand new.

His hands rest on your waist. "At last, my angel gazes upon me with the same heated eyes of desire that I so often have laid upon her. Have the scales finally fallen from your eyes that you may see my worthy figure? Has my design to please the perceptions of my brethren also brought pleasure to my niece's field of view?"

"You should dress like this more," you murmur.

"I suppose now I must," he grins. He angles his mouth to kiss you--and he does so, deeply. "I pray you wait for my hasty return," he whispers against your cheek. "Or perhaps I will crawl into your chambers while you sleep and soothe your slumbering body with my hungry tongue."

"Mm-hmm," you nod, dizzy with desire.

He laughs and pecks you on the cheek. "See ya later, angel," he says cheerily as he trots down the hallway and out the front door.

---

tagging @xdaddysprincessxx as like ... a requirement for all things uncle!Ezra at this point, lol!