#moving all the snakes into that room for way way more space and the room they're in now will just be for the tarantulas and other reptiles

[rarepairdumpster]

Shapeshifter AU

Pairing: Viktor/Silco (Arcane) Rating: M C/W: Selkie Viktor, Dragon Silco, Mildly dub-con (at first), Tail-fucking

Viktor is a selkie and Silco, a dragon, acquires his skin and seeing how beautiful Viktor and the skin are, it becomes his prized possession.

Silco practically slithers over him at night, hands half-turning into claws, breath turning to smoke.

Silco doesn't do much the first few nights but just watch Viktor, his red and yellow eyes glowing in the dark. Viktor isn't sure what to think. He'd much rather have his skin back but things could definitely be worse. Silco has provided him with decadent furnishings and opulent clothing, more than he would have ever seen if he had continued in the family fishing business.

It feels strange to be looked at so possessively, after growing up with the soft and tender love of his parents, but he can't deny that makes his belly do more of a flip with each night that passes.

Eventually, one night when Viktor is climbing into bed, he hears a sigh come from the corner of the room and the sharp smell of embers fill his nose. 

"What is your name?" Silco finally rasps, gliding over to one of the end posts of the bed and wrapping his arm (and tail) around it.

Silco is naked. Lithe, but muscular; dangerous. Beautiful. His cock looks large, even when soft. 

Viktor swallows, licks his lips, and answers softly, "It's Viktor."

"Viktor" Silco likes the way the name feels in his mouth and he slides onto the bed, claws threatening to rip the soft sheets. 

"May I...?" Silco reaches up, morphing one hand back into a human one, hovering just above the skin of Viktor's thigh. He can feel heat not just coming from Silco's palm but the intensity of his gaze.

Viktor gives a wordless nod, half nervous, half exhilarated. Only the fact that Silco had asked and gave him the space to decline, if he wanted.

Silco lowered his hand and caressed Viktor's skin, a growl bubbling in his chest when he felt how soft it was. He drew the rest of Viktor's leg up to rest on his shoulder, pressing the soft skin of the selkie's calf against his cheek.

Viktor had been concerned that Silco would burn him but, he found that wherever they touched, it was just pleasantly warm. Like a towel that had been left out in the sun all day.

Viktor let's a little noise when Silco's breath gusts across his bare skin.

"You're beautiful," Silco kisses Viktor's ankle. "Precious." Silco looks up at him and his eyes flash a deep ruby, causing a shiver to run through Viktor. 

"Have you ever been with...someone like me?" Silco asks, letting one hand trail to the inside of Viktor's thigh.

Viktor glances at his length, at the hint of ridges he knows will be more pronounced when his keeper gets hard. 

"No, never."

"Hmm..." Silco mused, sliding between Viktor's legs, and easing them open. "Something to work up to then." 

Viktor whines a little as Silco licks and nips at the inside of his thighs. Silco's tail is arched above him, twitching lightly, and Viktor flushes as he watches the appendage sway. "Could there be alternatives?"

Each nip of Silco's fangs stings, but in a way that makes his own cock twitch. 

Almost as if it knew what Viktor was thinking, Silco's tail shifts, wrapping around Viktor's ankle first, and then snaking upwards

"There are always multiple ways to ensure pleasure, my dear," Silco grins, seeing how his tail is having an effect on the boy. He turns his attention back to between Viktor's legs, and flicks his long, forked tongue out, teasing the underside of Viktor's length.

Viktor yelps at the unexpected, hot, wet sensation as his hands fist the bedclothes. 

He's glad he didn't give a reflexive buck -- those fangs were no joke.

Silco growls at the taste and shoves Viktor's hips down, claws digging into his skin. Viktor is almost seeing stars with how Silco's tongue wraps around his cock, then moves to tease his hole. He can also feel Silco's tail, slowly creeping up his leg, as if waiting for the moment he's ready.

It doesn't take long for Silco to work him open with his tongue, between the gratuitous amount of spit and the increasing girth of his tongue. 

He makes Viktor sloppy.

Silco almost doesn't want to pull away since the taste of the selkie was practically intoxicating. Eventually, he pulls away and slides up Viktor's body, licking his lips once he's face to face with him. Viktor already looks devastated and Silco lets a sly grin cross his face, letting his tail drag between Viktor's legs. 

"Can you handle more, darling?" Silco almost purrs, ducking his head down to kiss Viktor's neck and up his jaw.

"Yes," Viktor whispers, voice shaking. "Please"

Viktor almost tears the bedclothes, his grip is so tight.

Silco chuckles into his ear. "You can touch me, you know."

Viktor turns his head, facing Silco, and then turns his body and wraps his arms around him as the dragon pulls him close. He can feel the thick, ridged monster between them and he's glad that Silco was kind enough to start slow. Silco's tail is teasing Viktor's hole and he lets out a pained noise as he digs his short nails into Silco's shoulders.

"Shhhhh," Silco breathes, trailing kisses over his face. "Breathe with me, Viktor. Relax."

Viktor never expected Silco to be this tender. He matches Silco's breathing for a moment, letting himself focus on the soft lingering heat of Silco's lips. When Silco finally enters him, he gasps, dissolving quickly into moans.

"Exquisite," Silco murmurs, beginning to nip more and more at his beautiful throat. "So perfect."

Viktor can feel a ripple across his body and can see an iridescent sheen start to settle into his skin as he gets closer to his climax. This had only happened one other time and he had scared the rich boy away. Silco instead gasped in awe and brought Viktor's fingers to his lips, and left soft kisses trailing up his arm.

Treasure, Silco's mind whispers covetously. My treasure

Silco can't take his eyes off of Viktor as he falls apart from just his tail. He lets Viktor grind against him for just that small bit of friction before he's cuming between them.

Silco drags a finger through the mess on his chest and brings it to his lips, groaning at the salty sea water taste. He doesn't remove his tail right away either, letting it drag in and out of Viktor slowly.

Viktor squirms and whines from oversensitivity, but it's the kind that feels good.

Silco is almost taken aback when the selkie kisses him, lips plush and almost bruised from self-biting, but the surprise evaporates quickly, and he takes quick control of the kiss. His hand fists Viktor's hair gently, but possessively.

As they kiss, Silco finally pulls his tail out for good and Viktor moans but sighs, not sure he could take much more. His skin has started to fade back to normal and he clings close to Silco, happy for the warmth.

"You can stay the night with me here instead of that chair now," Viktor offers, kissing Silco's cheek.

"You know," Silco murmurs after a pause, luxuriating in having Viktor so close, "until now, I had never been with someone of your kind either. I wasn't expecting the visual display, but it was magnificent. Truly."

Viktor ducks his head. "The last time someone, a human, saw me...like that, it scared them. I thought he was different and would understand but, he was just like the rest of them."

"Humans are troublesome creatures best left in the dark about people like us." Silco kisses Viktor's forehead. "You deserved better."

Silco speaks from experience. The last human he'd taken to his bed had tried to cut his tail off while he slept. Like some twisted trophy. Silco had woken before the blade could even cut.

Arch + Woods

[brokenbutunbowed]

Today after work I decided it was a good day to clean snake enclosures and decided to try to handle everyone too (which truth be told, I don't do as often as I would like).

In order (hopefully):

1 - Unnamed, new O. p. coxi male. I didn't hold him because he's brand new here, just checked in on him

2 - Bessie, snow Kenyan sand boa female. Starting to doubt the breeder about female, because she's only grown wider and not longer in ages (I'll recheck eventually). She's nippy in her house but such a sweet potato in hand.

3 - Butterball, butter berry corn snake female. She's an absolute glutton, hence her name lmao, but she's so so easy to handle she might be one of my favorites.

4 - Unnamed, Japanese blue ratsnake yearling female. I had her out, but she was trying so hard to climb up the hook and up my arms I couldn't get any photos while I was doing so, so ugly hatchling house photo instead.

5 - Cinnabar, Baird's ratsnake yearling female. One of my dream snakes and I'm so excited to continue watching her grow. Her color is already amazing in person compared to when I picked her up.

6 - Unnamed, banana champagne cinnamon ball python male. I didn't know champagne caused neurological issues like spider does when I bought him, but he has never had any obvious issue. He's so so different from the rest of the group it's almost odd picking him up (he's like a brick!). Absolute innocent angel baby.

7 - Unnamed ridleyi female yearling. She's usually endlessly snappy but after 7 or 8 tries she gave up trying to eat me. I still didn't handle her with my hands, though, as I didn't wanna push her too much.

8 - Barbara, Kenyan sand boa female. The gentlest, most floppy potato 💕 no words, she's perfect.

9 - Seviper, Mexican black kingsnake male. Honestly, I haven't held him in a hot minute because he was extremely musky and snappy when he was younger. He was, suddenly, incredibly easy to hold today. I thought he'd try and get me for sure, and he's my largest snake right now, but he just wanted to climb all over me! 💕

I need a better setup for photos. The reptile room is a disaster right now and the morning intense hazy sunlight did weird things to their colors. I truly don't know how breeders get such good photos all the time 🤣

[yameoto]

caitvi fuckgirls x virgin!reader

femmepussy (cait) + butchcock (vi) = deflowering you

tw; sorority!caitlyn & fratbro!vi bc i succumbed to lust, virgin!reader, voyeurism, masturbation, pussyeating, pussyfucking, praise, mild agegap (senior!caitvi x freshman!reader). wc; 2.2k

they’re no strangers to bringing girls home. they’ve refined it to an art. or at least, caitlyn has. vi is still prone to flash a wink with a drink clasped in hand, and a sleazy (though it looks more sultry, on her), “my girlfriend and i saw you from across the bar, and..” when she’s feeling real lazy.

it still works, of course. of course it does. who wouldn’t want to get in-between the most legendary couple on campus? fraternity president and sorority president, all at once—college politics aside—it’s anybody’s wet dream.

tonight, it’s your turn. if the two pairs of hands wandering up your body downstairs, we’re anything to go by—and the matching smirks curving their lips as you were led gently away from the party and into one of the rooms above (door, plastered with a VI, to leave no room for argument. the frathouse always did throw the grandest ragers).

caitlyn leans against the doorway, tongue prodding the inside of her cheek as she eyes down the both of you, shamelessly. the room is plastered with posters you think your dad might've liked when he was sixteen, and countless football trophies and college memorabilia. not that analysing vi's room decor is exactly what's on your mind, right now—not when you're splayed back in the middle of a double-size bed, sheets crumpled under you, with aforementioned room owner sprawled in the space between your legs, her girlfriend steadily approaching, from the side.

"shit. you're just a lil' baby, huh?" vi's eyes are lidded as she plays with the hem of your shorts, pink hair all ruffled. her big hands swallow the span of your thighs, and she grins, lazy, at the sight.

"vi. don't be crass," caitlyn chastises, like her gaze isn't practically stripping you down with laser-focus. she honest to god licks her lips; because—who wouldn’t? pretty girl on a pretty girl, laid out like a pair of perfect presents, upon the bed. "you'll scare the poor girl."

"oh, c'mon, cait." vi grins, "i know the thought of defiling a freshie gets you wetter than a supersoaker."

this is all moving so fucking fast, you almost feel dizzy. can't breathe, because—well—holy fucking shit. as if your ramping discomfort is sensed, a calloused hand rests on your shoulder, and the tension melts away.

"you can't get better than us," vi soothes, in her smug, infinite wisdom. "just relax, sweetheart. we'll take good care of you." her hands are already snaking under, before a little tutting noise halts her movements. vi's head snaps up, like a puppy to a clicker, the beginnings of a despairing frown marring her pretty features. caitlyn’s smirk is gloating.

"take an off-side, darling. i found this one, first."

vi's jaw drops, shooting upwards in incredulity. "what? but—"

caitlyn shoots her girlfriend a sharp warning glare that sends a jolt of lighting straight to your cunt, and vi wilts like a curling petal, sulking all the way to the couch on the opposite-end to the bed. she collapses, legs swinging wide in the most egregiously delectable manspread of all time. the position shows off the most insane boner you've ever had the pleasure of seeing. the tent spears upwards like a fucking skyscraper, towering up at the crotch of vi's jeans as it's if attempting to burst free from its restraints.

then, vi's fly comes loose, and the veined girth of her cock slaps out in all its glory, bouncing against her toned abdomen and smearing a trail of slick behind. thick, hot-pink hairs crawl upwards from its base to just under her belly button. the aftermath of pre-cum glosses over locks, glistening under the dim lights.

oh, god. this is better than porn.

"see that? that's all for you." caitlyn purrs, and the red flushes to the tips of your ears, blood roaring. you don't even realise you've let out a whine, thighs shifting subconsciously, when vi grunts out a low, "fuck," and palms her dick.

caitlyn's tongue wraps around the swollen nub of your clit, and all of a sudden, you know exactly why people say caitlyn's tongue is like silver. she works, languidly, at first. heat licks up your thighs, and out of the blurry corners of your vision, you can see vi's hand wrap around her cock. caitlyn laves up the nooks and crannies of your folds in little flicks, gaze gossamer as the ferocity of her eyes pin you down.

plush lips barely graze your cunt, and humiliatingly, a garbled moan wrenches from your throat, body snapping taut with the force of an elastic band, caitlyn freezes, and you're made intimately aware of just how wet you are, and you've done nothing but squirm a little as they simply take their positions.

"don't be embarrassed, lovely," cailyn laughs, when your thighs quiver like they're about to squeeze shut—keeping you spread open, with the press of a palm, nails grazing up your abdomen. "it's flattering."

what caitlyn finds, in the first fifteen seconds of eating you out, is that you are extremely fucking sensitive. by the nth jerk of the knee, and those delicious, strangled whimpers that stream out of your pretty panting mouth; she has to ask.

"is this your first time?”

"why?" your hands are fisted into the sheets, knuckles bled white. "is it bad? am i bein’ bad?”

oh, caitlyn's always been a sucker for the whimpering type.

“no, darling,” she coos, nosing up the wet headiness of your pussy, pupils edging out the sharp, cerulean blue of her irises because, oh, she can’t let you realise just how wet you’ve just made her. a virgin. she can feel her already-damp panties, become renewed with a gush of slick as she slides her hands up your thighs, groin subtly grinding through her clothes and against the edge of the mattress because—fuck.

"fuck, i'm so hard," vi whines, a little desperate as she makes the widest puppy-eyes from the sofa, cock drooping in her hand as it pumps out an insane amount of pre like it's nobody's business. her knee has been jostling up and down like it's about to jackhammer a hole in the carpet. she's teetering on the precipice of simply exploding all over the two of you, eyes glazed over as her teeth grit in the effort to restrain herself. because if she cums; caitlyn won't let her fuck you, and call it the alcohol, her dick, or pure, dumb horniness; but there is literally nothing she wants more on this earth, right now—than to bury her cock inside of you and fuck you to oblivion.

caitlyn, however, is playing your pretty virgin pussy like a fiddle. you thrash, back, on the sheets, slew of broken moans torn from your lips. she’s drunk on lust. god, the way you tremble under her, bundle of nerves reacting to each and every one of her barest licks with the harshest gasps or clamp of your thighs. you’d have her wrapped in a headlock, by now, if it weren’t for the force in which she’s a splayed you open—right for vi’s prying eyes, as the older girl furiously fists her cock, frustration burning in her gut at being forced to only look, but barred to touch.

"cupcake," vi pleads, as both you and caitlyn's gazes turn on her. yours, baleful and uncomprehending, hips canting uselessly to chase after caitlyn's retreating mouth. she hushes your whimper (but coos all the same).

"i'm dyin', here," vi moans, and with the flushed tint of her cheeks and sweat glistening in the creased furrows of her brow; hand quivering around her dick—she almost looks like she is. caitlyn laughs, and your pussy throbs when hot breath gusts against your clit.

caitlyn sighs, exaggerated. the both of you can see the smug glint to her eyes, at the way she's worked both her babies, up. (and what a slip of the mind, that is? not an hour in the bedroom, and she's already calling you her baby. their baby.) she lifts up from between your legs, with one last kiss planted directly onto the deliciously glossy wetness of your swollen clit (yes, you shake), before coaxing vi forwards.

vi lunges forwards, like a starved lion thrown it's first scrap of meat, and suddenly the silken fingers dragging up your thighs and the soft lips kissing teasingly along your folds—is replaced by a desperate, fervid nuzzling and slobbering, as vi mouths desperately up your legs.

"i gotta—" she mumbles into your cunt, hands spreading you so wide they almost hurt. "i need—baby—please. i gotta be in you. i gotta— y'pussy smells so good. looks so pretty an' wet an'—" her growls are practically gibberish. caitlyn snorts. she, too, is partial to seeing vi a drooling mess.

you don't have much mental space, to do more than nod, heart thudding out of your chest. distantly, you hear a groaned "fuck, yes!" from underneath you, though any further processing that (surprisingly adorable) comment—is wrenched away by the vi is clambering on top to mount you, flat of her dick sliding along your folds. you both gasp, your chest lurching upwards—before caitlyn's manicured hand pushes you right back down.

"relax," she coos, as vi's weight sinks on top of your thighs, "it'll be easier, that way." vi is practically trembling in an attempt not to just ram herself into you. her head brushes against your core, and it feels like water. vi moans, almost buckling in anticipation. "can i please—"

you think maybe caitlyn nods her head, or gives some other indication of affirmation; because you can't see anything but spinning stars in your vision the second vi pushes, into you.

you're forced to turn your head, biting into the sheets to stifle what you're sure would be screams—until caitlyn gently takes your head, and shifts it to bury between her thighs. the heat from caitlyn’s core is distracting and tempting and has you drooling, though completely useless to do anything but pant and moan and mewl, helplessly into it, as vi‘s cock plows into you with a fullness you’ve never felt before.

“careful with her, baby.”

“i’m trying,” vi huffs through gritted teeth, her own eyes burning because her head is whirling with entirely unhelpful thoughts, like, holy shit, is she the first one to use your tight little hole like this? and oh, fuck, am i good? am i hurting her? this is her first time. shit. and then, just oh, fuck.

you unravel, midway around the girth of vi's cock. you spam, upwards, mangled croon resonating up and into caitlyn’s cunt, hips bucking up and unintentionally slamming vi hilt-deep, and like a seismic chain-reaction; both of them cry out at once. vi, at the sensation of being completely sucked into the tight, wonderful clench of your pussy, submerged completely in the all-encompassing heat as your orgasm shatters your body and mind into what feels like a million little peaces. caitlyn, can't not cum, with the taste of you still glazing her tongue and the way you cry out, into the sloppy slick of her folds and reverberating to her core. it's not just that, though. it's the way you babble, squirming uselessly as your eyes roll into your head and your lashes flutter like the prettiest thing, mouth lolling open around caitlyn's creaming cunt. it takes, a moment, for the three of you to recover. vi is slumped into your chest, cock still twitching as her head kisses your burning insides. caitlyn's legs have fallen limp. it's only when they start to move, vi shakily, reluctantly, sliding out from your cunt—and caitlyn's thighs, loosening from your shoulders—that you protest.

"wait," you rasp, eyes all glossy as you peer up at them through teary lashes, and fuck, for a moment they think; jesus christ. you might just be the most precious thing in the world. "i— i wanna try." you declare, pushing up weakly on your elbows.

"you want to try?"

"wanna make you feel good," you slur, into her thighs, and unbidden, caitlyn feels a whole new gush of heat rush through and slick your pink-dusted cheeks in an entirely new type of sheen.

"..i always did like the ones with a little initiative."

and when you burrow yourself into caitlyn’s cunt, trying to mimic the motions she’d done before to get you feeling as if you were floating on cloud nine; her fingers card through your hair, and vi rocks her hips, still into you, catching her breath as she nuzzles into your collar.

“..feel so good, baby. doin’ so well.” she pants, thumb running up the curves of your body, eyes lifting to fix caitlyn with starry eyes and caitlyn can’t help but swallow, her fingers quivering as you swirl your tongue like a good little pupil and she arches her head back, satisfied “ah,” shuddering though her. and they realise, then, that they’re kind of fucking besotted.

“can we keep her?” vi murmurs, and you’re so deep in caitlyn’s pussy that you almost miss it. caitlyn’s lips curl upwards, head in a daze, as her grip tightens in your hair—loathe to let you go.

“god, please.”

[gloomwitchwrites]

I'm in a roll....

The 141 in grey sweatpants. 🥵

You're in a roll? Me too. A brioche roll. Or maybe a Hawaiian roll. Or rolled inside one of Price's many cigars. Kidding (not really). I knew what you meant.

And grey sweatpants...yes please! I am salivating over here. Literally drooling. And it's only grey sweatpants. No shirts. No shoes. Just sweatpants and muscle. (my god I need to go touch grass).

These are...spicy. How could they not be? It's our favorite men in nothing but grey sweatpants.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, suggestive themes, swearing, invitations for sex, dirty thoughts, sexual situations, married life, fade to black

Word Count: 2k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“It’s bedtime. Bath. Pajamas. Teeth.”

“But Dad! Lucy and I—”

“Bed.” You grin into your glass as John ushers the children out of the living room. “Come on you two. I want to kiss your mother.”

“Ew. Gross!” the kids screech in unison.

The trio disappears down the hallway. You hear water running and the laughter of your children. John eventually emerges thirty minutes later. He runs his hand over the top of his head, sighing heavily.

When he enters the living room and notices you, he grins mischievously. His body is on full display. Broad chest with a lovely dusting of dark hair that trails downward to disappear beneath the band of his grey sweatpants. John is all thick muscle. A wall of strength. You’ve always loved that about him. How he seems to take up so much space or the way he crushes you with his body when he goes in for a snuggle.

John plops down on the sofa beside you. The moment his ass hits the cushion, John grabs for you. You giggle, playfully pushing at your husband as his weight tips you back, pinning you to the sofa.

“The kids,” you protest with a whisper.

“They’re sleeping,” he replies just as softly, keeping you pressed beneath him.

John goes in for a kiss. It is sweet. Slow. Deep. Completely indulgent. There is so much of him. And his scent is everywhere. It fills your lungs. Makes you weak.

Your lips part and John slips his tongue inside. You start to soften, to lean into his kisses. Each is salt-laced passion. A tease for later. He might have you pinned against the couch, and his tongue down your throat, but John will move this behind a locked door.

As John goes in for another kiss, the sound of a door unlatching comes from the hall. John freezes and you go still beneath him.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters.

Pushing up to a more seated position, John addresses the offender with a raised voice. “You best be in bed.”

There’s a gentle squeak, and then a door closing.

John sinks back down, resting his forehead against yours. He sighs heavily, and you give him a quick kiss. He returns it, and then snakes an arm under your back. He hauls you up and into his lap. You straddle him, hands pressed against his firm chest.

Through the sweatpants, you can feel his hardness pressing against your thigh. John’s hands roam downward to cup your buttocks, squeezing.

“Ready to take this elsewhere?” he asks, grinding his hips upward.

You have to stifle a moan.

“Please, John.”

With a light slap to your ass, he lifts you off his lap and onto your feet. The ground is solid. Steady. But then John’s hands return, and then you’re away, being guided down the hall to your bedroom.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You snuggle into the couch and crack open your paperback book.

Everything is in order. You have a glass of wine, a bowl of snacks, the tableside lamp on, and a cozy blanket. It’s late, but it’s officially the weekend. There will be plenty of time to relax.

“Reading out here?”

You glance up, and find Kyle in the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall. He’s shirtless. Without shoes. Just him, his freshly showered skin, and a pair of grey sweatpants. Kyle absently scratches at his chiseled stomach, head slightly tilted as he waits for your answer.

You can’t help but focus in on every line of muscle.

“Babe,” he prompts, laughing.

“Sorry?” you reply, blinking.

Kyle laughs again, the sound sweet. He strides forward, coming to a stop beside the sofa. He taps the side of his mouth. “Got some drool.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you giggle, checking with a quick wipe with the back of your hand.

Kyle’s smile is infectious. You can’t help but match it.

“Can I join you?” he asks, already lifting the blanket.

“You’re not going out with the boys?”

Kyle shakes his head. With one hand he lifts the blanket, and with the other he grabs your legs and lifts. He slides in, and drapes your legs over his lap before returning the blanket to drape over your body. Keeping one hand under the blanket, Kyle rests his hand on your inner thigh. It stirs heat in your core.

“Tomorrow,” he yawns. “Simon has a sick kid.”

“Bummer.”

Kyle shrugs, draping his over arm over the back of the couch. His hand on your thigh is a brand, and it’s only made worse when he starts massaging.

“Is it a spicy one?” asks Kyle, nodding toward your book.

Yes.

“Maybe,” you say slowly.

Kyle smirks, and then the book is out of your hand.

“Kyle!” You reach for it, but he twists, blocking your forward momentum.

He examines the pages in front of him. Heat rushes into your cheeks. As he reads, his eyes widen.

Kyle’s mouth drops open.

“What?” you prompt. You try to snag the book but he blocks you.

He glances at you. “Are you aware of where he’s putting that gun?”

“It’s fictional.”

“When you ask me to recreate things—”

“Kyle—”

“—is this what you’re talking about?” His gaze goes from you to the book and then to you again. “I’m down for a lot of things, love, but I’m not sure I’m down for that.”

Pushing off from the couch, you snatch the book out of Kyle’s hands. He surrenders it easily, a smile on his perfect face. The blanket is a crumbled mess beside him, but that’s not what you’re focused on.

The grey sweatpants have shifted, exposing more of the deep v of his pelvis. But it’s not just that. Kyle is hard. That is very clear.

He leans against the back of the couch, throwing both arms out to rest over the top. Flexing his hips, Kyle puts himself on display.

“I’ve got something else I can put inside you.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

A delighted shriek comes from the kitchen.

Johnny emerges, completely unbothered even with the two children in his arms. He has the oldest child, who just turned five, sideways and tucked under one arm. The boy has a wicked smile of his face even as he wiggles, trying to free himself from his father’s grasp. It’s fruitless.

The other child, a boy of three, keeps shrieking with delight even as Johnny lifts him into the air by his ankle. He is upside down, arms flailing, his brown hair hanging below him.

Johnny doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t even break a sweat. He carries the two of them like it’s nothing.

He’s almost completely naked except for a pair of grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips. They show off the deep v of his pelvis, and the dusting of dark hair that spreads over his chest and descends downward. You’ve touched that chest so many times. You know it as well as you know yourself.

Johnny’s gaze is on the television, watching the football match. The kids still shriek and playfully claw at him. But he remains unbothered.

Sitting there on the sofa, you consider that a third kid might not be so bad. You’d give him a small army if he asked.

Johnny glances away from the television, and when his gaze lands on you, it is entirely knowing. Heat curls in your belly, and his smile widens.

“Found these gremlins digging in the pantry,” he says, indicating the kids by hoisting the three-year old higher into the air and squeezing the other tighter against him.

Both kids giggle manically.

“After brushing their teeth.” Johnny tuts. “What’s to be done?”

Both children continue to giggle, not answering their father.

“Sounds like it’s time for bed,” you muse.

The children groan.

“But I’m not tired,” moans the five-year old.

“Too bad,” laughs Johnny. “Come on.”

He doesn’t put them down. He carries them like that all the way to their bedroom. Even from your spot on the sofa, you can hear their manic giggling. After a while, it quiets down, and Johnny emerges from the hall.

Instead of sitting down on the couch next to you, he grabs the remote and shuts off the television.

“Not interested in the game?” you ask.

“Nope. Want something else.”

His sultry smile tells you enough.

Slowly, he approaches, coming to a stop in front of you. He offers his hand, and you take it. With little effort, Johnny brings you to your feet, and hauls you close. Your free hand immediately rises, pressing against his chiseled stomach.

“What is it that you want?” you murmur, already knowing the answer.

His hardness presses against your belly, his voice going low and gravelly as he speaks. “I’d like to spend some time between those gorgeous thighs.”

“Doing what?”

“Whatever I very well please.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

This is agony. A terrible joke.

Simon is right there. Sweaty. Shirtless. In nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants.

He’s completely in the zone. Heavy metal blares through the stereo’s speakers, drowning out the sound of his gloved fists striking the punching bag. Morning light pours in from the open window, giving Simon an ethereal glow.

You watch from the doorway, chewing on your bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to pounce on him. Simon is all muscle, and not in a gym rat way. He is thick everywhere. You want to lick the sweat from his skin, to drop to your knees before him, and tug those grey sweatpants down.

You know what you’d find. And it sounds delicious.

But he is in the zone. And you won’t disturb him.

Pushing down the naughty thoughts, you start to turn away, to return to the kitchen and find something to eat for breakfast.

The music abruptly cuts off.

“See something you like, love?”

Simon’s raspy voice draws you back to the room. With one hand on the doorframe, you meet his gaze, and promptly melt into the floor. He has a cocky grin on his face, and his shoulders heave slightly from exhaustion.

You lick your lips. “Always,” you reply, fingers digging into the wood.

Simon’s gaze scans you. You feel exposed, like he can see through your clothes. It’s knowing. Amused.

“What is it?” you prompt, staring just as hard as he is.

Simon removes one glove and then the other. He tosses them to the side, never taking his eyes off you.

“Come here,” he says.

You don’t move.

Simon arches a single eyebrow. Instead of repeating himself, he gestures with one finger, indicating that he wants you to come to him.

Heat rushes from your cheeks down to your toes. Slowly, you peel yourself away from the door, heading for him. Simon’s natural swagger is alluring, and those sweatpants sit so low.

Just one tug. That’s all it would take. And you’d be able to take him in your mouth.

As you approach, Simon reaches out, grabbing your waist, tugging you close to him. You instinctually hook your finger in the waistband of his grey sweatpants.

Simon smirks.

You inhale deeply, savoring the manly musk of him.

“Hungry?” he asks.

“Not for breakfast,” you sigh.

“For something else then?”

You nod.

Simon leans in but doesn’t kiss you. He holds back slightly, lips curved into a hint of a smile. “Want to hear what I have in mind?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

Simon presses his thumb on your bottom lip. “I can fill that mouth.” His thumb drops away from your lips, and trails over your chin before brushing over your stomach. “And belly.”

His gaze stays on you. “What do you think of that, love?”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

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@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@taysarchive @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Making final moving preps in taking all my posters and comms and such off the walls and peeling off the glue dots and it's making me so sad

[hazelfoureyes]

The Big Part (2)

Part 1

Alastor x Recently deflowered fem reader

Alastor had said he saved something for the next night after taking your virginity, and after what felt like a month and more of waiting, the next night finally came. As did Alastor. Multiple times.

「warnings/promises: smut, p in v, creampie, demon Alastor, Alastor isn’t so nice tonight cuz he’s ready to bust a nut babe sorry, cervix hulk smashed, drooling, lotsa cum, sex with the lights on, pretzel reader, curiosity killed the pussy cat, dom Alastor, organs shifted, it’s 2am so my proofreading may be shit」

Part 2

The Big Part: Bigger and Wetter

minors dni pls thank you bbs

Were you a whore? Or one of those sex addicted nymphos?

Ever since Alastor slid out of you and left you alone you could still feel him. A phantom limb of sorts, nestled between your legs and sunk to the hilt.

Was that normal? You couldn’t be sure. Not that you could ask anyone. Once again, same dilemma, Husk would groan and shoo you away. Angel would just start describing all of the dicks he wished he still felt.

More pressing, somehow, was the fact Alastor had scheduled to return tonight. Same time. You had no idea what time you’d been shadow portalled into your room the previous night.

To be safe, you returned to your room as soon as nightfall came. What if he came and you hadn’t been there? What if he never came back at all?

Despite your best efforts, you hadn’t seen him since he, you buried your head in your hands to hide from no one, deflowered you. What a silly word. You’d be a mess of damp pedals and scattered pollen had you been a flower. 

Biology of plants aside, the word pollen brought to mind the ‘first’ you’d be treated to soon. You crossed your legs, the idea of making Alastor cum was exciting enough. But to feel it? You couldn’t imagine. 

But you wanted to. 

Scooting back onto the bed, you settled under the covers. Maybe that craving would be cured with a little imagination. With embarrassing speed, you slipped your hand into your pants and down to your core. You were already so wet just from thinking about Alastor. Nearly pathetic levels of aroused, panties soaked. Kicking off your pants and underwear, you let your fingers feel at your entrance for the first time since Alastor pulled out. You didn’t feel different to the touch. But there was a throbbing ache inside you.

Your nondominant hand snaked around your thigh. One finger, then two, you remembered his hips against your body. The way he told you to make yourself orgasm. 

It wasn’t enough. You managed a third finger. Your free hand came to your clit. He’d just been there. Less than 24 hours before, you and he occupied the same space.

The hunger didn’t ebb. It wasn’t the size, or the speed, your newly greedy cunt wanted someone. Maybe fingers would never again be enough to satisfy you. Had Alastor knowingly cursed you to a lifelong addiction? You could almost hear him, smirk in his voice, “Missing me that much already?”

Your hand flew from your body, pitched knees caving in. You thought your heart might squeeze through the confines of your ribs from fright. As you looked over the blanket, there stood Alastor leaning on his microphone. His eyes were sharp, moving from your face to your lap and back.

“It’s a little rude to start the festivities before all the guests have arrived.” His hand gripped the blanket and yanked it off of you and the bed entirely. Exposed, your hands came back down to hide yourself which only made the deer demon laugh. “Darling, what’s there to hide?”

His shadow slithered up the wall behind him, voice crackling as an old radio filter cut through, “I’ve done more than look at you already.”

That somehow didn’t make it any less embarrassing. More so, as you thought about it. He’d done so much more than look. Alastor had been inside you.

When you didn’t say anything, he put one knee onto your bed and leaned forward. He used his microphone to slot between your legs and spread them open, “Remove your hands.”

You didn’t immediately respond.

“Oh, sorry,” a glow from his eyes as his head tilted unnaturally, “I suppose I wasn’t clear. That wasn’t a request, dear. If we’re going to do this you’re going to have to do as you’re told.” The tone of his voice paired with his changing eyes made you tremble. Your hands slipped up your stomach as you let him take in the sight of your glistening lips, already wet from your lazy fingering. “Good girl.”

He watched you clench and you swore you saw him swallow hard in response. A hum, “I’ll save that for tomorrow. Now!” He clapped, microphone flashing out of existence, “I believe we have a date. A new first for the taking.”

He was particularly excited about this one. Taking your virginity was definitely an amusing trophy but the idea of seeding your still virginal womb brought a twisted smile to his face. First in life and death to mark you from the inside. 

Alastor had spent all day avoiding you. He was quite worried just the sight of your hips swaying as you moved down the hall would incite him to take hold and bend you over the nearest surface. He hadn’t had sex in quite a while before your offer, but this little advent calendar of firsts you had so easily agreed to was triggering unusual reactions from him. His mind was plagued with all the ways he could change you. All of the sounds you’d offer him exclusive first rights to enjoying. All of the little flashes of fear and embarrassment you’d display as he claimed new parts of your body with his own. 

Already hard and throbbing in his pants, he knew he wouldn’t last too long. But luckily he had every intention of drowning your pussy so that wouldn’t be an issue. 

You watched his half lidded eyes scan over your body, tongue swiping over his lips. A fox in the hen house.

“You’ve already prepared I see! How considerate.” He inched closer. One hand removing his belt and pulling his leaking cock out in a scene you were happy to repeat, his other hand came to your entrance. Three fingers pushed into you, longer and thicker than your own. Immediately your expression shifted from embarrassed to debauched. That burn of his stretch was reminding you of how much he opened you up the night before.

You hadn’t realized you’d closed your eyes until they popped open in response to an unexpected sound. A lusty sigh coming from Alastor, his hand gripping the base of his member tightly as he finger fucked you. Being unsure what he was doing didn’t stop you from gripping his fingers tighter. Did it feel good for him to hold so tightly at himself? You clamped down again, his fingers stilling. Finally his eyes left your lap to meet your stare, following your line of sight to his hand around his cock.

“Perhaps,” his fingers pulled out, “You aren’t the only one eager to continue yesterday’s games.”

Games. You wouldn’t call any of this a game. But you were happy to play along if it meant that ache would soon be calmed. 

A pick up in your heart rate as he began undressing.

“Why today? Why get naked today?” A sharp look made you shrink, “I’m not complaining just…curious.”

A roll of his eyes, “I don’t want to stain my pants.”

Your eyes closed, needing a moment to calm down. What did that mean. Stain? With what??

You’d seen porn before, you weren’t completely naive. How much exactly would he…you opened your eyes, his face close to yours.

Mind blank. Skull entirely hollow as a clawed finger traced down your cheek. Gentle. Uncharacteristically gentle. Frighteningly gentle.

His nose grazed yours, hand tilting your face slightly so his mouth could ghost over yours without hitting against your nose. His smile open and letting his hot breath roll over your lips and chin.

Your eyes screwed shut, gasping sharply as you were taken by surprise by his sudden and complete entrance into you. Alastor had gotten close to drink in your expression when he entered you. He bottomed out in one move, a soft slap of his body hitting into yours. His sharp and predatory expression softening with the feeling of you surrounding him entirely. He hadn’t expected to react that way so he had no time to try and steel against the pleasured response.

An honest and open moment between you both, before his usual unbothered demeanor returned. 

“Much easier than before, right, dear?”

You could almost feel his grin on your skin. The ache dulled but didn’t leave you. Without thinking your hips rolled against him, itching for the friction your body craved. 

Alastor was entirely taken aback. Whimpering virgin turned hungry doe. His hands came to your hips and held you still, genuinely making you whimper.

“Now now, you’re getting ahead of yourself.” his nails dug into your flesh. 

Hitched breath, clenching now around the firm but yielding length spreading you open at the center. His head fell down slightly as shadows grew up the walls. Little prongs stretching out before his hips pushed against you. No drawback, just a deeper press. Your delicate but hungry organ moved with his intrusion and pulled a gasp from you.

Black dripped from his lips as sharp teeth cut against his grin before his eyes came up to meet yours, “Do you want me to take more of your first experiences?”

Voice heavy as it hit the air between you, the murmur of a waiting audience crisp and distant behind his tone.

You nodded. Of course you did. After the previous night you were desperate to feel everything you’d been missing out on.

His hips rolled into yours, pushing your stomach up with his length.

A moan, delayed as your senses were struggling to understand the still novel sensations. 

“Say it.”

Not a request. 

“I want you-.”

“Alastor.”

“I want you, Alastor, to take more firsts.”

His hips rolled again, that infamous grin reaching his ears. “Use your manners, my little doe.”

Another involuntary spasm around him, “Please.”

As if he was prepared for your answer, because he was, because he knew there was no other answer, his body was ready with a snap of his hips. “Perhaps I was too accommodating last night?” Another languid and punishing roll of his hips that started at his chest, allowing his entire length to slip out of you before just as easily pushing back in. Your eyes slid shut, mind fractured as it focused on the claws pressing into your flesh, on the still slight burn of your opening stretching at his widest part, at his voice making your body shiver. 

A tiny part of you thought you may actually die if he didn’t pick up the pace. 

He considered trying to keep his release at bay, but knew he’d have time to enjoy you as many times as he wanted. Your unspoken wish granted, his speed jumping from lazy and considered to determined and frantic. The warmth you provided, the slick wetness he coaxed out of you, all of it was thickening the fog of his mind. Finding an even rhythm to pull back the tension of his orgasm, you found yourself scrambling under him. The goal was definitely different now than the prior night, and as your eyes opened you could see he had clenched his shut. You knew what was coming, and though you weren’t actively trying to cum you still found a building pressure in your gut.

When your legs began to kick up to make some distance between his cock and your cervix, the pace so deep and rushed your body was feeling overstimulated already, his hands grabbed both ankles and pressed them as far up as your muscles could stretch. Your knees nearly pressed into your shoulders, raptured groans escaping you when you could feel all you’d done was allow him deeper access to you.

“Al-ah!” His name was too long, much like the other part of him choking you up now. Helpless to stop it, panicked by the feeling, you felt tears forming as your orgasm was truly forced out of you. You saw white as you trembled, crying out little pleas for him to let up the stimulation but he wasn’t listening anymore. His ears were pressed to his skull and ringing, heartbeat pounding in his head and down his cock.

What a help you were, squeezing him like your body needed his release as badly as he wanted to give it. You felt the heat of his seed filling you before his hips slowed, not stopping but pulling out more and more with every thrust until he was finishing on your lower lips.

His clawed thumb wiped the dripping liquid up and down your folds. Dirty. But dirtied by him, before anyone else. Alastor watched the way your hole twitched and wanted to devour you.

A moment finally of relief for your nerves, you tried to stop the way your pussy was twitching and working his cum deeper inside. You were surprised how hot you found it, a strange swelling of your pride at your body making him cum and a deep satisfaction at feeling that warm liquid coating your walls. Oh no, another addiction? Something else your fingers could never do…

You felt sleepy, emotionally rocked and physically spent, you sighed dramatically, “Alastor-,”

His other hand released your ankle but instead of pulling away, he gripped your hips and rolled you to your stomach.

A second of panicked confusion. “What are you doing?” You lifted yourself up on your elbows and looked back. Wide and creaking antlers loomed over you, eyes black and pupils red looking straight through you. Hungry. 

Something possessed you, not quite fear. Something even more base than that took in the demonic Alastor and felt compelled to raise your hips. “Alastor?” A little purposeful clenching, semen slipping past your still untouched clit and dribbling down your thighs and stomach as your head lowered back to the bed. 

Following an order you hadn’t been given yet was easy when his eyes were locked on your core. You whined, a new position meant a new angle so you held tightly to one of your pillows in anticipation.  

Your face pressed into the pillow as his body rubbed against yours. The hands on your thighs scratching upwards, “Words, sweetheart.” Deeper than before, scratchy and strained.

Biting your lip you considered just spontaneously combusting and turning to ash, but you wanted to feel more, you needed to see what else he could offer. Curiosity, pussy cats, a joke you couldn’t find the functioning neurons to piece together as you struggled to squeak out, “Are you done, Alastor? Or, I can k-keep going.” The heat of your blush threatened to follow through with the combustion, face burning with embarrassment for saying something so needy.

He knew you could. Lubed and softened, Alastor’s dick pressed into you and sank in with ease. That was the only response you received. Your body, for the first time ever, felt like it was made to take him. Everything felt swollen and sensitive as his still hard member pulled and pushed at your walls. The kind of sounds people paid to hear were filling the room, your moans long and deep now. The wet slap of his balls against your pussy sounded so sharp against the rounded breaths you seemed to sigh out.

Despite his sudden increase in size, your body gave way easily. Rutting into you, Alastor felt like a lesser creature. How rarely he dropped the more complicated facets of being an overlord and just let the demon in him dictate his moves. You were a different feast entirely to the lowly shark sinners he so easily took apart some time ago. A different kind hunger being satiated and stoked again in a lustful cycle. 

It felt like you were molded to him, forgetting his shape and learning it anew every time he buried himself into you. Looking down through the sharp contrast his demon form offered he could see himself being taken in deeper than before. He regretted suddenly not looking for the bulge he surely made earlier in your stomach as he had the night before. 

Your body had bones, you were sure of it, but you collapsed like jelly into the mattress. Alastor’s hips followed yours down, never missing a beat as he continued a bruising force. Your mind was swimming as your brain was 80% pleasure reception and 20% breathing deep enough to stay conscious. Heart beat dictated by the pitch of his breath. 

Drool soaked into your pillow, cum dripping down onto your blankets. Sweat slick body rocking into the bed as you felt a pulse at your clit. The electricity a response to your thoughts, your realization you were a cocksleeve for the cruelest overlord in recent memory. Was this an achievement? It felt like one. Another, louder moan from you as his breaths turned to growls. 

The blankets were ripped as his clawed hands balled into fists around you. 

What an education you were receiving. What a thorough teacher Alastor was for you. Your body already responding so well to your new lessons.

A daring move that got you scolded earlier but you pushed your ass back up into his body to greet him. This time Alastor was happy for it, the softness of your ass shaking as he humped down into your wet heat. Soft flesh he wanted to grip and bruise and scratch but he kept enough of himself to remember you were breakable. 

Too new still for a lesson on pain. No, right, he was supposed to be offering you the new sensations of being seeded.

Your hips were fucked off the bed as his speed quickened, your back bending uncomfortably.  You bit into the corner of the pillow, needing to do something with the static ricocheting inside your body. A flicker of the lights you had forgotten were still on was the only warning before both of his hands came to press between your shoulders and pin you down. A set of three thrusts, each deeper than the last as he came a second time. 

Your legs kicked up again, hitting lightly at the back of his legs as he reached a new depth, twinge of pain deep in your center as he pressed.

With a sigh, all of the air left your lungs. His hands slid down your back with a tickle, holding your cheeks open so he could watch himself pull out of you entirely.

Voice and body back to normal, Alastor patted softly at your thighs, “Thoroughly fucked now, dear. I’d say your pesky virginity has been completely and utterly taken.”

You couldn’t reply, brain going quiet as a blissed out sleep creeped up your spine.

“Happy to be of service, do come find me when you’re ready for my help again.” Was all you heard before his laugh was fading away. Either into the darkness of your dreams or into his own shadow, you couldn’t be sure. You were out cold before that laughter went quiet. 

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei ,  @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog  , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf ,  , @fizzled-phoenix ,  @phobophobular  , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo    , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk   , @bontensbabygirl 

[gtgbabie0]

-Vi x Wife!Reader

Synopsis: {A cozy, snowy morning with Vi and your daughter}

For my other works my Masterlist is here <3

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“Mm, five more minutes,” Vi mutters from behind you, the words whispered into the nape of your neck with one arm draped over your waist and the other stuffed under your pillow. She had said the same thing about ten minutes ago and still wasn’t ready to let you go from her warm embrace.

You chuckle softly, the sound slightly muffled into the silken fabric of the pillows, which brings a smile to Vi’s lips— her rough palm moving to rest over the curve of your hip, rubbing soothingly in a not-so-subtle attempt to keep you in bed and pressed up against her.

“I gotta prepare bottles, she’ll be awake soon.” You tell her with a tender voice, melting back into her chest as her hand gently caresses over your tummy, slipping beneath the fabric of her shirt you’re wearing.

Your daughter had a very specific routine that the pair of you had already grown accustomed to after many sleepless nights and teary breakdowns—all of which Vi had soothed you down through.

“Mhm, can’t have her screaming the house down.” Vi sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to the space behind your ear as you hum in agreement. Yeah, you both had learned a while back not to sleep in when you got woken up by Harper’s cries one fatal morning.

With that you’re pushing yourself up, rolling your shoulders in an attempt to wake your bones up. A small sigh escapes you as Vi’s hand rubs your back slowly— admiring the way the low morning sun casts a muted light through the room and over your pretty face from behind the curtains and it takes everything in her not to pull you back down into her arms.

“You’re so pretty, my pretty girl.” She drawls, a sleep-laden tone with a certain roughness that shoots a slight shiver down your spine— and the fact that she was still trailing her fingertips along the small of your back certainly didn’t help.

She sits up, immediately pressing her nose into the back of your neck with a small hum as she breaths you in deeply— you could feel her smile against your skin. “Violet.” You warn her, though your resolve is weaker than sugar paper when it comes to her and the way her lips feel along your bare shoulders.

“Mhm?” She hums, running the tip of her nose along your jaw.

“It’s already half nine—”

“Alright, alright, I’ll go make a start on the coffee,” Vi announces, with a playfully dramatic groan, bumping her shoulder into yours softly.

“Mm, thank you. I’ll wake up sleeping beauty.” You turn to face her, leaning into her hand as she brushes a lock of hair behind your ear.

“M'kay gorgeous.” She smirks, pressing a kiss to your cheek then another and another and another until they get slobbery and you have to physically push her away with a giggle.

The homely scent of coffee fills the house with wisps of some festive candle— spiced berries and cinnamon or something like that— Vi had picked out the last time you went shopping, she has a knack for picking the best smells at the cost of her completely forgetting the shopping list and becoming distracted by everything.

You were standing by the window, admiring the white fluffiness that has coated the shrubbery and pavement— ice frosted over the windows in intricate swirls. Harper was cuddled up in your arms, in that ridiculous reindeer onesie that was a little too big for her— one of Vi’s marvellous finds as you wait for her bottle to finish warming up.

“Wow, she’s a chatterbox this morning.” Vi chuckles warmly, standing up behind you with a hand splayed across the small of your back— snaking around to settle on your hip, her other reaches to twirl a curl of Harper’s hair around her finger as she continues to blabber nonsense and blows raspberries up at you.

“I think she wants to go out in the snow.” You smile, turning your head to the side to look at Vi as your daughter fists at the fabric of your shirt— still making nonsensical noises.

Your wife catches the glint in your eyes, the way they sparkle up with a playfulness she’s grown to adore— it gives away your real intentions.

“Yeah, does she now, or is this just you using our daughter as an excuse to go play out in the snow?” You nod at her words, a sheepish giggle bubbling up from you, as she pulls you into her, kissing your temple. “You big child.” She adds, giving your warm cheek another peck.

Vi couldn’t lie, it did look tempting as much as she hated the cold and the way the winter air always made her nose run— she’d endure just about anything to see you and Harper smile.

“We’ll take her out after breakfast,” Vi promises, glancing over to the snowy scenery outside— her soft lips ghosting over your jaw as she speaks. A small hushed, celebratory “yes” escapes your lips in response as you bounce Harper in your arms excitedly and your daughter shares your elation in complete unawareness.

The sound of the bottle warmer pinging causes Harper to let out a tiny squeal, her eyes going all wide and glossy as if she knew exactly what the noise meant, food— and you had no doubt that she did.

“C’mere peanut, give momma’s back a break.” Vi coos softly, taking Harper from your arms— “Go get something to eat, I’ll feed her.”

You smile at her in appreciation, a tender look settling over your face as you watch your little one nuzzle into Vi’s shoulder. Her tiny hands fisting into your wife’s hair in fascination with colour to which she gently tries to pry them away, persuading her daughter with a delicious bottle of warm milk— she happily takes it.

You pop some bread into the toaster, knowing that the pair of you really shouldn't eat cinnamon rolls for the fourth morning in a row— despite how Christmassy you felt, Vi had a “figure to maintain”

The twinkling lights of the Christmas tree paint a pretty glow through the living space and into the attached dining room— decorations stretched across the ceiling in colours of reds, golds and greens an endearing tackiness to them that made it feel oh so cosy.

Your socked foot rubs against Vi’s ankle as the pair of you sit at the table— a mix of strawberry and peach jam toast and coffee between you whilst Vi feeds Harper, who is staring up at the ceiling decks with wide curious eyes that flicker around, the festive tunes on the radio were clearly intriguing her.

“Love you,” Vi winks, pushing her foot against your own beneath the table as you take a big bite of jammy toast— you swear she does this on purpose, waiting until your mouth is full before talking to you just to watch you flush and panic.

“Mhm, love you too.” You finally manage to get out, wiping the corners of your mouth as a warm smile stretches over your face at the sight of her leaning down to press a kiss against Harper's forehead— what a tender way to spend your mornings.

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[earthtooz]

ratio is jealous bc im weak to him being jealous om, gn!reader but they wear a dress, fluff !!

“darling, this is a serious matter and i expect you to treat it as such,” veritas scolds as his face hovers inches away from yours, his body keeping yours captive against the softness of your shared bed.

“serious? well i think you seriously need to get over it. i spent a lot on that dress and i’ve been looking forward to wearing it to the gala all fortnight,” you scold, trying to look stern with the man hovering above you. “even if you don’t like it, i’m wearing it.”

“don’t like it?" he parrots, utterly appalled. "you’ve got the wrong idea. on the contrary, i think i like it too much.”

your hand snakes up to pinch his heavily defined deltoid. “then what’s the problem?”

“because others will love it just as much as i do.” there’s distaste in his voice when he tells you that, and the way his eyebrows furrow are similar to that of when a student asks him a question that he deems ridiculous.

"sure thing," you roll your eyes at his statement, clearly not believing him, and it vexes him that you are not aware of your ability to capture the attention of bystanders just by entering a room. veritas has witnessed it himself a multitude of times before he had become yours.

the scholar would seethe an envious green whilst keeping an eye on everyone who'd approach you, absolutely burning with jealousy because he was not the sole man of your attention. he'd lament over who he'd become, who you made him become whilst glaring at anyone who came near.

then, you'd smile at him and the fury he felt prior melts away because none of them could ever compete against someone as esteemed as the veritas ratio for your affections.

he's grateful that you saw through those idiots and chose him to be your partner in the end, but aeons, that has not done anything to cure his temper. years of treading the liminal space between friends and something more for too long can make any individual antsy.

"either way, i'm wearing the dress."

"fine. then i should forewarn you that you may find me overbearing tonight, and to not blame me for it."

his arms that were holding up his weight slip when your arms wrap around his neck, bringing him closer to you. veritas feels a little lighter when you litter kisses on his cheeks. "no need to be jealous, ratio, i'm all yours."

(true to his word, he does not part from you that evening, acting as an accessory to your outfit. he clings to you, hand never leaving your skin, always moving from your wrist to your waist to your shoulder. you can’t stray from him for more than an arm's length because you’re always tug back towards him before you can get too far, and then he'd follow you to your destination.

outsiders may observe and call him clingy, but judging by the carefree smile on your face and the way you’d beam at your lover every time he would pull you back to him, it doesn’t seem to bother you too much.)

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[roguelov]

Birthmark

Summary: Miguel discovered something he never noticed before on you: a birthmark, one specifically on your lower back side. At a single glance, a primal feeling started to burn inside of him. And there was only one way to satiate him.

Word Count: ~2.5k

Reader: Afab (no fem pronouns used)

Warnings: SMUT (unprotected sex, doggy style, fingering, pull out/cumming on backside, voyeurism, manhandling, possessiveness, minor blood), some fluff, established relationship

MINORS DNI/18+ ONLY

The world drifted away, lost and nearly forgotten, as music poured out of your headphones. The soft luminance of the sun peered through the windows, wishing to greet everyone, to kiss their cheeks with its warm light on this early weekend morning. The simple apartment space was filled with an assortment of things - both the necessary to the unnecessary but well loved trinkets - to call it a shared home.

You weaved around the living room, delicately walking to not to disturb your sleeping partner in the bedroom a short distance away. It was one of those days, a day of waking up and wanting to clean the place. It wasn’t exactly dirty per se, but it was dusty and needed a little more care.

Off in the bedroom, behind the cracked door with the blinds still shut, a body laid sprawled out on the bed - the body of an overworked Miguel. The steady rise and fall of his chest stuttered. The even rhythm broke as consciousness slowly took hold. It wasn’t any noise that disturbed him. No. It was the lack of presence. It was the lack of your warmth, the lack of your arms wrapped around his waist, the lack of your soft breathing against his skin.

He craved it - needed it to always have a well rested night of sleep.

A low exhausted groan tumbled off his lips as he rolled over. He pushed himself up, and hunched forward on the edge of the bed. He sighed loudly. He rubbed the back of his neck at a small stiff ache. The world and all of its sensations slowly poured over him. The first to return was sound. His ears perked up. Out in the living room, you sang quietly under your breath.

A smile cracked onto his tired face.

Standing up, and stretching a bit, he shuffled out of the bedroom. He opened the door, and the world greeted him. Basking in the sunlight, you glowed this morning. He leaned into the doorway, watching you with a loving, tender gaze.

The living room was cluttered with cleaning supplies: a vacuum with its long cords snaking around, a duster tossed onto the table along with a rag and cleaning spray, and lastly an unlit candle for later to fill the air with such sweet aromas. Unaware of Miguel’s presence, you continued to sing softly and only a few words at a time. You moved around with a certain grace, you were guided by the music and bounced to the beat as you cleaned.

Miguel’s smile grew.

How did you become a part of his life? He almost didn’t deserve you, or so he believed. You were a beacon of light and life.

Of love.

He chuckled once, unable to contain his joy.

Still lost in your task, you bent forward, picking up a blanket randomly tossed onto the floor from the night before.

Instantly, Miguel’s laughter seized. Confusion, and something else, settled into his chest.

What -

You, however, stood upright again. His eyes narrowed trying to comprehend what he saw. He definitely saw something, he knew he did. But, what exactly was it? Well, technically he saw two things; two things which made his chest clench and his heart skip just a tad faster. Firstly, you weren’t wearing any underwear underneath your plain cotton shorts. But, there was something else. Something he never noticed before.

And he was intrigued and determined to know.

Walking up behind you, he placed a hand on your hip. You jumped, startled by his sudden appearance. Dropping the blanket, you spun around only for your minor panic to dissipate. You laughed and smiled at him. Your headphone slid off your head and dangled around your neck.

“Well, good morning to you too,” you cheekily said.

“What was that?”

Your face scrunched in confusion. “What was what?”

Miguel’s lips thinned. He turned his head, almost grumbling. His skin started to flush, and he strangely felt embarrassed. A little odd given the few months you had now been living together. “I … I saw something … like - like …”

You raised an eyebrow. Twisting your around, you searched over your body and clothes. “What? Is there a stain somewhere? A hole? A tear?”

“No,” he groaned, rolling his eyes more so at himself. Why couldn’t he say it? “Something here.”

He tentatively reached over. With a single finger, he very gently grazed over one of your bottom cheeks. Your eyes instantly dropped down to his finger. You blinked, still baffled by his odd behavior. You didn’t see a stain, it was just your shorts. Then it clicked. Realization flooded over your features, smoothing out the confused crease between your brows.

You cocked your head, trying to bite back your growing amusement, “Are you talking about my birthmark?”

“Birthmark?” He repeated, confused.

“Yeah, my birthmark.” You chuckled. “I thought you had seen it before, or I at least told you about it.”

Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. He couldn’t recall, but this certainly all felt like news to him.

“I don’t remember,” he mumbled.

“Well, yeah it’s always been there.” You picked up the blanket again. You kept your back to him as you refolded it. “I swore I told you before, it’s why I can’t wear certain things out. If I wear cotton shorts and they ride up, you’ll probably see it. The same goes for certain swimsuit bottoms. And if I wear white bottoms then there is a chance you’ll see it through depending on the fabric.”

As you started to move around again, placing the blanket into a basket beside the couch, Miguel’s eyes dropped. It was as if he was trying to burn a hole through your shorts to see it again - to see it properly.

Something was stirring inside of him, something he didn’t quite fully understand yet. He stepped forward. He wanted to see it, he needed to see it. His hands grabbed your hips, stopping you in place.

You jokingly rolled your eyes and smiled to yourself. He was certainly handsy this morning.

Was it handsy, or needy? Needy, yes. But, it wasn’t in the sweet innocent way you initially assumed. He wasn’t needy in the way he always wanted to close by, or comforted by having you in his grasp.

Oh no, you greatly miscalculated.

You snorted, “Can I help you -“

A gasp left your lips. Miguel had forcibly grabbed the bottom fabric of your shorts and yanked it up. His eyes immediately locked onto the birthmark - the very obvious birthmark that was nearly centered on your one cheek.

There it was. Plain as day.

You twisted your upper body, and quickly latched a hand around his wrist. Now, it was your turn to get flustered and embarrassed. “Okay, okay, you saw it, can you let go now?”

His eyes flickered up.

Oh. Oh no.

Your breath hitched, and your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach.

His usual crimson eyes - the color of crisp ripe apples in the height of a chilly autumn, or the color of a bright lush rose given in secret to a lover - was gone. His pupils were blown wide, the darkness overtaking the lovely shade of red. They were black like the shirt of a priest who you should be praying with; they were black like the night where no one can see what sins were unfolding.

His thumb pressed firmly into your ass, into your birthmark.

“Miguel,” you whispered softly as your heart ticked faster and faster.

He dropped his head, nuzzling his face into your neck. His lips slowly brushed over your neck. You shivered. Ever so slowly, your initial surprise melted away. You lolled your head to the side, granting him more access. He always had this effect on you. One look, one touch, and soon you were putty in his hands.

Oh, he was losing himself. He didn’t know why, but this discovery riled him up. Maybe because this was like a secret, a secret only he was privy to.

His lovely little secret.

He groaned softly. His heart beat faster as he fell into this near animalistic passion - a primal frenzy. His talons slowly came out. He couldn’t - and wouldn’t - hold himself back any longer. One of his talons scraped over the birthmark.

You gasped at the minor spark of pain.

He smirked, and began to teasingly kiss your neck. A pepper of butterfly kisses that quickly shifted to heated opened mouth attacks as he bit and sucked on your now sensitive skin. He cupped your ass, giving it a rough, hard squeeze.

“Mine,” he murmured lowly into your neck.

One word.

One simple word.

And hell - all those forbidden yet heavenly sins locked away - was unleashed.

It happened all so quickly. He yanked you towards his chest. Lips collided. Tongues swirled together, drawing out beautiful sounds from each of you. Hands roamed over every curve and muscle. You were desperate for each other. You both always stoked such burning desires, such all consuming fires.

The next thing you knew, your shorts were pulled down and kicked aside along with Miguel’s sweatpants. You were immediately bent over the couch as Miguel finally slipped his cock inside your dripping folds.

You tried to hold back the obnoxiously loud cry of pleasure. Your forehead buried into your folded arms, which was supported by the backside of the couch. Your nails dug crescent shapes along your biceps.

Miguel sighed, tipping his head forward. He was panting heavily, unable to control him. God, you always drove him into such a state. He couldn’t think, he could only drown himself in the overwhelming and wondrous sensation of you. His hands happily - and downright couldn’t resist - kneaded and played with your ass. He squeezed harshly, and watched as your pliable fat pooled between his needy fingers.

Good lord.

He soon swore a string of curses under his breath in Spanish. He wanted to roll his eyes back. He wanted to completely lose himself. But, he also wanted to watch. So, he did. He watched hungrily as he pounded into you. Most importantly, he watched his thumb continue to dig fiercely into your birthmark.

A moan hummed in the back of your throat.

His eyes sparkled with such sinful delight. It was like a secret button. His secret button. His talon teasingly traced the shape of it. Then his thumb pushed further into your birthmark, enjoying the sounds you were making. He shuddered. Fueled by your responsiveness, he felt his fangs elongate as he moaned. Oh, he wanted to bite it, he wanted to mark it. Dare he say, he wanted to carve his initial into it.

His.

All his.

He gripped your hips harshly, digging his talons into your skin. Small pricks of blood swelled up under his deathly grip. Bruises and sores would most definitely appear later. He picked up his pace. It was sloppy and ruthless. The sounds were so loud, and so delightful: his hips slapping into your ass, his thick cock pummeling into you, his low groans mixing with your more high pitched ones.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, letting out a muffled whine. You buried your face into your arms, trying to silence how loud you were becoming. Desperate and needy, you soon grinded back into him, meeting his pace.

Miguel hissed, “Ah, cariño, nuevamente. Again, do that again.”

You obeyed without hesitation. You pushed back into him, moaning as his cock stretched you further. Your walls greedily clamped around him, sending him into a frenzy.

He moaned, and nearly slumped forward. He paced one hand on the backside of the couch, keeping himself upright. While, his other hand wrapped firmly around your hips. His hot breath fanned over your sweaty neck. Growling, he was furiously humping into you.

Your eyes rolled back. Fuck. You loved when he was like this, when he used you. You loved when he let himself go. And the best and worst thing was you wouldn’t last much longer. He was deliciously relentless.

You moaned, “Miguel -“

“I know,” he gritted his teeth. His voice rumbled near your ear. You shivered. Your walls fluttered around him. You were quickly nearing your end. And he knew it. “Let go, please. Oh, please, let me feel it.”

He uprighted himself, and gripped your hips again. You tried to match his pace, you tried to keep up, but you couldn’t. He mercilessly pounded into you. He moved your hips for you, he knew what you wanted and needed.

And that was it.

In a few more thrust, you cried out, gushing around him. Miguel swiftly pulled out. You whined. Yet, two of his fingers quickly plunged back inside. Your disappointment melted away as you moaned out again. Your mind went fuzzy in absolute pleasure. He kept pumping into you, overworking you. You squirmed as your legs began to shake.

“Miguel,” you mumbled, almost like a sob.

“Shhh, I know, I got you.”

With his other hand, he started to pump himself. Feeling you around his fingers, hearing your whines and delightful wet noises of his fingers slipping in and out of you, seeing your body shake with overstimulation, he spilled all over your backside.

“Fuck, Miguel,” you weakly hissed out.

He laughed once, a short breathy laugh. He pulled out his fingers. He paused for a moment, admiring your juices covering his fingers: the way it dripped down, the way it glistened in the light, and oh the way could feel his mouth water at the thought of tasting it.

And he had a little idea. An idea which had been stirring since the beginning.

He wiped his fingers clean over your ass, directly over your birthmark.

You groaned softly, still slumped forward over the couch. You focused more on trying to catch your fleeting breath. Your body still buzzed from the wondrous aftermath. Sighing deeply, you closed your eyes, thinking it was finally over.

Until something swiped across your ass. Specifically, Miguel’s tongue. Miguel licked up once, and cleaned up yours and his cum over your birthmark. He moaned at the taste. And, for an extra measure he teasingly, and gentle as he fangs would let him, nipped the birthmark.

Your body jolted at the sensation. A loud, almost pornographic, moan fell over your lips. “Jesus Christ,” you hissed.

He chuckled.

Miguel carefully stood you up, and turned you around. With still shaky legs, you completely fell into his chest exhausted. He wrapped an arm around your waist to support you. His smile softened, seeing the state he had brought you to. With his free hand, he gently cupped your cheek, and placed a chaste kiss on your lips.

You hummed softly, and gave him a tired lopsided smile.

“Let’s clean you up,” Miguel whispered. His finger traced down your cheek, and along your jaw. He tipped your chin up. His lips brushed over yours again. His sweetness then vanished. A devious smirk crossed on his lips. His hand fell from your waist, and squeezed your ass again. “I’m still not done with you yet.”

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt 7)

Masterpost

Danny was very happy to be dragged around by Damian being introduced to all of his pets, first outside to the barn to meet Bat Cow and his ducks, and the giant weird dragon creature which was so cute!! It was all over Danny too, obviously liked him. Danny had a feeling if he woke up from nightmares or couldn’t sleep he would end up finding his way back to the barn to cuddle up with these animals. At this time of year it would probably be a bit cold and night but the cold never really bothered him and Goliath was warm. 

Then back into the house to meet all of the pets, the dogs, and snakes, and Alfred the cat, and finally a second cat and her kittens. 

“This one is just a foster,” Damian said, sitting on the bed with his legs crossed in a half lotus as Danny sat on the floor next to the box the mama cat was in with her four little ones. Danny felt like he might cry, it was so cute! The mama was a little wary of him but he was easing her way into her trust and good graces.

“Mhm?” Danny sounded, he was listening but he was scared to move since the mama cat was sniffling his fingers.

“I found her while she was heavily pregnant, feral cats usually have kittens in spring, at this time of year they would have been too vulnerable outside. I’ll rehome them when they’re old enough,” Damian explained. “I was glad I got her to trust me enough that I could be present and make sure nothing went wrong while she had the babies.”

Danny held his breath as he tried to pet the cat. The quiet stretching between them until he felt ready to talk without scaring the cat. “Am I your next pregnant stray,” Danny joked.

Damian gave him a guarded look over. “... I have been told humans don’t like being compared to animals,” He said bluntly, and Danny laughed. 

“Ya most don’t. But you take very good care of your animals, when you’re making this comparison, I’m guessing what you’re trying to say is that you’ll do what you can do be here for me and make sure I have what I need for me and the babies to be healthy and safe?” Danny said, giving Damian a fond smile. 

“Yes,” Damian said stiffly. This was why he usually preferred animals, they could read his intentions and didn’t require him to say such embarrassingly vulnerable things. At least Danny was saying them for him so he just had to agree. 

Danny finished petting the cat and moved to sit next to Damian on the bed. “It’s okay Damian, I really appreciate that. I know handling these emotions can be hard, they feel too big for our bodies and they’re hard to express. I’ll let you in on a secret though, they’re more easy to express physically, and I’m not made of glass just because I’m pregnant. We should spar later.”

“Are you formally trained?” Damian asked stiffly. 

“My mother was an expert martial artist and she taught me, but I’m very strong too. I promise you won’t hurt me Damian,” He promised, bumping his shoulder against the kid’s and giving him a smile. 

“Alright, I will go easy on you.” Damian promised, just as stiffly.

“Until I prove you can’t afford to,” Danny joked and Damian scoffed and shoved Danny’s shoulder. “But really, thank you Damian. It means a lot that you and your family are willing to stick your necks out for me like this.” He sighed, if he didn’t know better he might have wished his parents had been the ones to protect and support him like this, but wishes were dangerous things.

“This family is made entirely of strays, tragedy is a prerequisite. You’ll fit right in,” Damian promised before getting up from the bed, apparently that was enough emotion. “Do you want to train now?” he asked looking back at Danny. 

“Sure, I assume this being the home of the bats and birds there’s some sort of training space?” Danny asked getting up from the bed. 

“Yes. This way,” Damian agreed and trotted out of the room with Danny on his heels, making sure to close the door behind him so none of the kittens could wander out. 

--------

Jason took off his helmet and dropped it on the couch with a sigh of relief before wandering back into the kitchen to grab a drink. So what if he was technically still too young for it? He’d done a lot worse just in the last 24 hours then half a glass of scotch. He had been off grid for a couple of days on a mission and had just gotten home. He was exhausted and half of him wanted to have his drink and go to bed, leaving his phone off for another day so he could get a proper rest. 

But he had responsibilities, both to his gang, his turf, and more recently even to his family, so he turned it back on and grimaced when more than a dozen notifications popped up in a row. Damn, something big must have happened while he was gone. Why could there never be just a quiet day around here?!

He opened the most recent message from Bruce that just said; ‘can you call me when you have the chance?’ which made him sigh. But at the same time, it wasn’t urgent, it was ‘when he had a chance’ not immediately or anger about him not answering sooner. So knowing that he scrolled back down to the oldest message so he could get a feel of what was going on.

Cas, 28 hours ago: New brother! 🤗

Oh, well that was a very good start to the context, it seemed that Bruce was in the process of adopting some other poor schmuck. Well, hopefully they’d do better by it then Jason had. And explained why Bruce wanted him to call, he always worried now how Jason would react to new siblings, as if he wasn’t well over that. He’d only been mad about Tim at first but he wasn’t even Really mad at Tim anymore! Ya he felt the urge to attack him regularly, but only the same way Jason did with everyone else in the family now.

Tim 22 hours ago: I’ve got a favour to ask, or maybe a tip for you depending on how much you want to kill someone right now. Vlad Masters brought a pregnant 16 year old to the gala last night. Apparently he’s the baby daddy. 

Oh that had Jason seeing green, his lips pulling back in a silent snarl. That man was good as dead, especially when Jason paused to google him and saw someone who must have been old enough to be the kids Father, if not even grandfather judging by the gray hair! 

Tim 19 hours ago: Don’t rush in! Turns out he’s got superpowers of the magical variety. You’re going to have to prepare for this one, and talk to Danny.

Danny must be the new kid then, the pregnant 16 year old Bruce was no doubt making quick steps to at least foster. Where were the kid’s parents in this? 

Tana 16 hours ago: Please make sure your wards are set up and you have that anti-possession charm we gave you. There is a situation still developing. 

Huh, well, good to know both that she was involved and what sort of powers they might be dealing with. 

Tim 8 hours ago: We have the parents in custody but didn’t have the resources to hold Masters. Danny and his sister are staying at the manor for now. You’ll like her, tough-as-nails red head.

Jason rolled his eyes, he dated one amazon and now everyone thinks the only people he’s into are tough ladies! He likes tough boys too god damn it! Why doesn’t no one get after Dickie about this?! (He knows they do.)

The last text from the family before Bruce’s was one from Damian, which was rare.

Damian: Hello Todd, you should know before you meet him that Danny has also previously died and come back. I believe you and he are quite similar and I do not know if that will mean you get along well or if you will repel one another. You should know that if you hurt him there will be consequences. 

Well wasn’t that just the cutest! Demon brat didn’t usually get attached to new people so soon.

He texted Bruce back: No I will Not call you. But I can be bribed to come for dinner tomorrow if Alfred makes lasagna. 

He checked the messages he had from his lieutenants about business and replied to the ones that needed it. Then the ones from his friends. He was just about to turn his phone off again when he got a text back from Bruce. 

Bruce: Done, we’ll see you tomorrow. I’m sorry Jay.

Well that was ominous. Jason sighed and turned off his phone, setting it down on the coffee table and heading to bed. He needed to fucking sleep. Whatever the hell Bruce was sorry for could wait until tomorrow.

--------

Bruce had asked Jasmine for a copy of her slideshow, and Tim for a copy of his notes and updated the files on Danny, Jasmin, Damian, and Jason. He always felt a bit odd about the files he had on his own children, but they were important! Both because his memory wasn’t infallible and he needed to remember all this, and because if he needed to tell someone about his children quickly it was good to have all that already typed out and ready.

Not he was just sitting at the Bat-Computer, staring at the cover picture of the slide show. All of them were so young, and all dead or irrevocably changed by the actions of adults around them. His goal, all their goals, had always been to make a safer world for children, and everyone but especially children. And every time he was confronted with the abject failure to protect a child it tore at his heart. If he found who had blocked them from contacting the JL he was going to have very strong words with them.

“You can’t save every child Master Bruce,” Alfred said making Bruce jump. He must have been staring at the computer for longer then he realized, to not notice the butler’s approach. “There are billions of people on the planet, you cannot catch every single one, especially the clever ones who hide it well. They’re responsible for the harm they cause, not you for not being able to stop it.”

They’d had this conversation before when Bruce got too hanged up on the people he’d failed. He knew that wallowing didn’t do any good, and depression got in the way of action, but he couldn’t always help it. As hyper-logical as he tried to be to compensate, he was still human, and seeing these things would always hurt.

“It’s not just Danny and Jazz,” Bruce said, rubbing his face. “It’s Jason too, I’m trying to figure out how… how what Jazz said about liminals and ghost changes how I feel about him. She says they can look like their immoral but it’s always amoral, following their obsession. I feel like I failed him that this is how he came back. And I blamed him so much, and put him down so much. She said their obsessions have to be supported, if they don’t indulge in their obsessions they die.

“No wonder he’s reacted so negatively every time I talked to him about this revenge quest, this thing that he’s doing. Now that I know I wonder if we can compromise, if we can’t then what? I don’t know if I can blame him at all for what he’s doing, but I know what he’s doing is wrong. I don’t know what to do Alfred.” Bruce said, rubbing his face hard.

“Well, it sounds to me you’re putting the cart before the horse Master Bruce. You haven’t even spoken to him about it yet, and you haven’t slept in more than 24 hours. Sleep, then talk to him, then you’ll know how worried to actually be,” Alfred advised.

“You’re right, as usual,” Bruce chuckled and got up, shutting down the bat computer. “What would I do without you,” He chuckled, patting Alfred’s shoulder affectionately. 

“I’m sure you’d be just fine,” Alfred said, in a tone that made it clear he was just being polite and a playful twinkle in his eyes that made Bruce laugh. 

“Thank you Alfie. Let’s all get some rest.”

Next

[lilaccmilk]

summary: you rescue a snow leopard! hybrid from an underground fighting rink and he gets attached to you. (this is basically GOJO SATORU X READER but no name mentioned.)

a/n: this was written keeping Gojo Satoru in mind but feel free to imagine whoever you want to.

content warning: hybrids, mention of underground fighting rinks, abuse, mention of Y/N, scenting, and fluff ig?

word count: 1.4 k

──────────────────

For months you and your team had been tracking an underground hybrid fighting ring. And now you finally had the chance to raid in there and save those hybrids. You worked at a hybrid clinic and dealt with trauma hybrids and their medical health, like a doctor. Your presence was necessary to administer sedatives to aggressive hybrids. You reached the place with hybrid rescue officers, many types of hybrids were caged, surrounding a huge arena for fighting— wolf hybrids, snake hybrids, leopard hybrids, bear hybrids— you name it, they were there. Many of the hybrids just went along with the crew, some had to be lightly sedated. At the most secluded cage, you heard growling, agitated yet worried growling. “We won’t hurt you. We’re from the hybrid protection services, I’m Dr. Y/N.” You signalled the guards to put their guns down, so as to not agitate the hybrid more. “Please step out, i promise we wont’t hurt you yeah?”

Slowly you saw him step out— a beautiful snow leopard hybrid, white hair, pretty blue eyes that held the sky in them. But behind that aggressive demeanour, you could sense he was hiding pain. He had a few untreated bruises and slashes. You backed up a bit to give him space, opening then cage, you spoke in a soft voice, “Come on out now, let’s get you patched up yeah?” His eyes snapped to you, and they softened a bit. But then one of the officers came into view, and he snarled, you quickly got in between them, but too late, your hand had been scratched by him, he quickly stepped back, not looking you in the eyes.

Being deemed as the strongest in the arena had more cons than pros. Sure being respected and feared was nice, but that also meant that he was used as a weapon. Constant fights, back to back bettings, being drugged and then beaten up if he tried to rebel. He had smelled you before he heard your voice, you smelled sweet, like a spring day. And your voice felt like it belonged to one of the angels, he saw you signal the officers to put their guns down. He appreciated it, very deeply. You had beckoned him to come closer, opening the cage, you beckoned him to come closer to you— to freedom.

But then one of the officers moved, and whatever spell you had around him had been broken, he acted before thinking, lurching to eliminate an opponent. When he did see what he had done, he backed away. No no no– it wasn’t supposed to be like this, now you’d hate him and tell them to leave him and— “Hey, it’s ok. Please calm down, they’re all the good guys.” your voice interjected. Huh?

You knew he was scared. He meekly followed you, the other rescued hybrids backing off when he came into view, some out of respect and most out of fear. You made it to the animal clinic, you told him to wait in the shower room, you’d get some towels and clothes. As you were returning with the necessities, a fee officers came upto you, asking if you’d be okay, since the hybrid placed under your care is feral. Feral, that word irked you, but you kept quiet and told them that you’d be fine.

Before abruptly entering the room, you knocked, making it know you were entering.

You went in and saw him standing, in the same spot you left him in, very stiff, as if you’d hurt him if he even breathed the wrong way.

“You could have looked around you know? Will you be able to take a bath on your own, or do you want me to help?” you spoke. He looked blankly at you at first, but then his eyes softened, “I’d like your help please.” You nodded and filled the tub with water, and turned around to allow him to remove his clothes. He got in the tub and you took the shower head, making him comfortable with the water temperature. “I’m gonna wash your hair for you okay?” He nodded at that idea. You took your time with that, mainly because you could hear his purrs of contentment, you were pretty sure he wasn’t aware he was purring.

──────────────────

A month or so had passed and he was very grateful. You kept him company and showed him patience. Being in the hybrid shelter was weird, but that couldn’t be helped, not until you adopted him. And he knew that he wouldn’t willingly go with someone else. You were pretty, protective, caring and you had a very soothing voice. Especially when you called him ‘snowflake’ or ‘Olaf’ (he loved watching Disney movies after you introduced him to Tangled) those silly nicknames made his heart go into overdrive. One thing that irked him was your scent— don’t get him wrong, he just hated that it contained the scent of many hybrids, he wanted you to smell like him. He wanted others to know you were his. His mate.

You knew he was very attached, and he had developed a sweet tooth. He was slowly turning into one of the most energetic person you had ever met. Always up to silly things and he loved PDA with you. The concept of personal space had now become foreign to him. He always had to have some kind of skinship with you. You wanted to adopt him. But just because of your selfishness, you wouldn’t ruin a chance for him to find a person he liked. But this season was the one where many hybrids got adopted. You didn’t want someone else to take him away from you, and you hated yourself for thinking that.

You saw him the garden, looking sad, you made your way over to him, sitting down next to him, “What happened snow?” There it was, that nickname. It made his heart flutter and his lungs stop working, he wanted nothing but to kiss you. “Nothing.” You insisted on him telling you, but then he finally spoke up, “Do you think, someone could actually think about adopting someone like me?” He wanted to know if you would, he went on about how he thought that maybe he isn’t meant to get all that. But you blurted out before you could think, “I want to adopt you. If that’s okay with of course. I mean- i totally understand if you don’t want me to adopt you. Like, we can find someone else or-“ you were cut off by him hugging you, repeatedly saying yes.

You signed those papers and took him home the same day.

He didn’t think he could be any closer to heaven when he entered your house. Your scent enveloped him. He finally let go of your hand that he had been holding since you asked him if you could adopt him.

At dinner time he practically inhaled the food. You showed him his room and bid him goodnight.

As you were in your bed scrolling through wattpad, you heard loud claps of thunder outside, it was raining. You then heard his voice on the other side of the door, you called him in. “Can I….sleep with you? I wanna cuddle” You wordlessly lifted your blanket and opened your arms, he quickly slipped in next to you.

You both laid together, his head against you chest, but then you felt him nuzzling your neck, almost as if–“Are you scenting me snowflake?” you laugh. “Mmh, yes.” he says in a cocky manner. “You should smell like me, you’re my mate.” Your eyes widen at his words. “Mate?”

He looks up, in panic, he couldn’t believe he said that out loud, “I’m sorry, are you mad? Please don’t send me back-” You cut him off with a finger in his lips, “Hey, I’m not mad, just surprised.”

“So….you accept being my mate? Once you do, be aware there won’t be any breakups like humans.” He warned. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, love.”

He leaned in to kiss you, it was a soft kiss, like a promise, your hands threaded through his hair and you parted away, resting your forehead against his. And then you looked into his eyes, and something flips, he pulled you onto his lap, kissing you feverishly, as chaotic as the thunderstorm outside. You returned the kiss back with same fervour. You both pulled away because of the lack of air and smile. You laid back down, his arms around you. And for the first time in a long while, he slept without nightmares but rather, with contentment.

──────────────────

hey guys lemme know how was it. i’m gonna make this a mini series i guess. should i? LIKES, REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED <3

[oimitocat]

RIDE YOUR RHYTHM | OS

lee heesung x m!reader

3 & 1 trope + fluff + nsfw + hair pulling + slight choking + biting + riding + praise kink + cock warming + overstimulation + idol au!

a/n; the long awaited fic (do hope you enjoy)

when a group is successful two things happen- their company sabotages their rising fame by lowering their content or they overwork them.

to both you and heesung’s dismay there has been no time to yourselves. you have tried. you both have.

“yah, why are they staring at you so much?” you huff as you lean in to him during a fansign.

he looks at you with big, innocent eyes. “hm?”

“i get it you’re pretty but only i can eye you like that.”

he snorts, “eh? like what?” he smiles.

“like you’re mine.”

heesung rolls his eyes, “y/n, be for real.”

“i am-“

“hey, we gotta go do our choreography,” ni-ki taps your shoulder.

ugh. as much as you love being an idol and having fans, you also wish you could have a longer break between your schedules. seriously, at some point you felt like the only time you could see him was between waking up and going into the van to start of a busy day. interactions for the audience isn’t always authentic, so you felt STARVED.

“wanna sleep with you,” you groan as you crawl into his bed.

he scoots over, smiling to himself when you snuggle up behind him. your arms over his waist. you pepper his exposed nape with a small kiss. he smiles. you suppose this is a way to be with him when schedules get too busy.

you wake up hours later, he’s stirring in his sleep. you grab your phone and look at the time, it’s been four hours since you’ve fallen asleep. it’s 4 AM.

“sung?” you mumble, he grunts. “you okay? you’re moving a lot baby.”

“mmmhmm,” he turns over and snuggles into your chest.

you smile and place a kiss on his forehead. you close your eyes again, hoping to regain sleep. your schedule for the day is absolute madness and even just a wink more of sleep is all you want-

“n/n…”

“mm?”

you open one eye only and see his bambi eyes looking up at you. the lamp in his room is on, giving a nice glow on his skin. the two of you were too sleepy to turn it off last night. he’s tired, you can tell. yet, his hand snakes up your chest and around your neck.

you close your eyes, smiling. “heesung…”

“just a kiss…” he whispers, scooting up to peck your lips.

you giggle, kissing him deeper. it’s tender, of course, you’re enjoying the moment. he’s the one that initiates, both arms snaked around your neck already. the way his fingers card through your hair elicits a moan out of you. you always enjoy the movement in your hair, especially from him.

your hands are already down on his hips— you hear the front door open.

“mmmffff,” you groan, shoving your face into the pillow when your manager starts knocking on everyone’s door to get up.

heesung sighs, closing his eyes out of sadness.

the second time is when you’re rushing to get in the shower. you chose to sleep five more minutes and now you’re behind schedule. heesung was already showering and naturally, he makes space for you to join him. it’s normal, yet his cute eyes just enticed you to kiss him and kiss him and-

“y/n we have to go, we’re late.” he says sternly, yet smiling.

“i just want to kiss you, i can’t do that outside the dorms.” you argue.

he pours shampoo in his hand and yanks you down by the ear. “well let’s hope we come home early. now tilt your head so i can wash your hair.”

and you grumble and let him do just that. when later comes it’s too late to even acknowledge each other. you’re drained and so is he. still, you sleep with him in the same bed, always alternating from your bed or his bed every other day. it’s a tiring schedule. overwhelming.

“hyung…” jay whispers to you one evening.

you were getting your hair done. the stylist was frustrated, they were short staffed this morning and running behind. of course, they quickly managed to get more stylists on the floor to get back on track but still. the pressure was in the air.

“hm?” you open one eye and look at him.

“uhm, can you come real quick?”

“i’m still working on his hair, could it wait two more minutes?” the stylist asks.

jay gives you a look. you nod, it can wait two more minutes. yet, as soon as she’s done you excuse yourself and follow jay. everyone is running around, cameras everywhere— a hectic photo session for the new album.

“hey, sung,” you take him in your arms and kiss his head.

jay leaves you to it. heesung heaves into your chest.

“i’m so tired,” he cries. “how can i look alive in the stupid photos if i feel like i’ll pass out any minute.” he lifts up his head and looks at you with teary eyes, “we had two hours of sleep y/n.”

you nod, listening to his grievances. it’s best to always let him cry it out. he’s frustrated, tired, exhausted. all of you are.

“make me feel better,” he begs.

“heesung i can’t baby, we’re-“

“y/n,” he tugs at your shirt.

you sigh, you won’t go too far. a quick make out session. that’s all you can offer now. you know he’s pent up, you are as well.

“guys, seriously?” jungwon sigh, staring at you.

“he started it,” you mumble.

jungwon rolls his eyes, “well everyone is called for the group photoshoot. let’s go.” he eyes heesung, “hyung… try to get a touch up…” he says gently.

doesn’t matter how tired the two of you are, everyone knows jungwon carries the brunt of it more.

the third time is when the two of you were alone in the dorms. everyone else had separate promotions. heesung had one too, but until later. the two of you had time to yourselves after so long.

from watching a show, to making out on the couch. heesung’s stuttering breaths as you kissed down his jaw, eliciting soft moans from him. he melted into the couch at your touches, enjoying the feeling. it’s been so long since you’ve touched him like this.

the two of you were hungry.

“oh,” heesung breathes out, closing his eyes in bliss when you palm the tent in his joggers. you keep trailing kisses down, raising his shirt with your other hand in order to kiss down his stomach.

you feel him twitch under your palm and you reach the hem of his joggers. his fingers come to card through your hair—

all hands fly off of each other when the padlock beeps. heesung sits up alongside you, wide eyes looking at who comes inside the door.

“please don’t be naked- OH GOOD!” jay gasps.

jake laughs as he follows suit. “sorry guys, jay forgot something. oh, by the way, heesung hyung-“

heesung groans, flopping down on the couch, bitter. he still listens to jake talk, but he’s giving y/n a sour look. you laugh, adoring how upset he is.

“jake just shut up,” you tease while leaning down to kiss heesung gently.

in the end, jay couldn’t find what he needed and took up all the time you and heesung could have had to yourselves. it’s frustrating but the two of you cope better.

the new album comes out. their sleep schedule is back to being horrible. you find yourself sleeping in the van more than sleeping in the dorms. you keep having to use eyedrops to tame the visibility of your lack of sleep. the month feels like hell.

yet, once all is said and done. there’s a pause. a short moment where everyone is given a two day break. two days afterwards it’s off to do some promotions in the states.

“you have to be quiet, everyone else is sleeping.”

you raise a brow, “shouldn’t i be telling you that?”

heesung sticks his tongue out teasingly at you before kicking off his boxers. you chuckle at his cuteness, sitting up slightly on the pillows. the good thing is your room is the farthest from everyone else. still, your noise has to be kept moderately low.

“where’s the lube?” heesung asks, patting the sheets.

“uh-“ you find it and pop open the cap. “you sure you wanna ride me? last time you gave up and made me do all the work-“

“shut up,” heesung cups your mouth with his hand.

you snort and shake your head. he takes the lube bottle and pour some onto your fingers. you smile as he kisses your temple before adjusting himself on your lap. you bring your lubed up fingers under his weight and work on easing him open. it’s been way too long since any of you two had done anything, of course you need to work each other up a bit.

his fingers grip your shoulders as he balanced himself. you now smear some lube over you hardened dick, minutes after opening him up. he lowers himself down slowly when your tip aligns to his hole.

“there you go,” you say softly, enjoying the warmth that engulfs you.

heesung lets out a small breath when he’s fully seated. “ah, fuck…” he eyes you, a bit shy.

“you okay?”

“it’s been so long,” heesung giggles, pecking your lips between his words, “i feel so full…” you smile, hands on his thighs.

“i can do all the work baby, i know you’re tired,” you reason while placing gentle kisses on his neck.

he hums, moving his hips slowly. “i can do it… second round is all you.”

you snort, “oh so we’re going at it?”

“only if you want,” he says, finding a nice pace and going with it. “i definitely want.”

you grin, hands moving to the back of his waist, gripping his ass. you litter his collarbone with kisses, nibbling and licking as he rides you. your breathing becomes erratic after a while, as one of his hands comes up to card through your hair.

he tugs your hair back, making you look up at him. his hair is already sticking to his forehead as he sweats. he smiles breathlessly at you and you smile back, enjoying how good he feels. he keeps a strong grip on your hair, making you wince every now and then but he pecks your lips just as he does it, knowing well what he’s doing.

“hah…” he whines as he gets close to his orgasm, hips moving faster.

knowing he’s getting tired, you grip him and move him. you pant, feeling your own orgasm built up. “fuck, keep doing that,” you groan.

heesung swallows, tilting his head back. taking notice of his exposed neck, you kiss and kiss. he’s sensitive in a certain area and you moan when his walls flutter around you from the sensitivity. his noises go high pitched, breathless and barely audible. his body speaks out to you more and you know he’s on the edge. you tip him over it by biting the juncture of his neck.

he trembles, choking on his cry. you feel his cum spilling over your stomach as well as his. it’s so hot. you move his hips a bit more, feeling him twitch.

“hah…” you raise your head, looking up at him.

his chest heaves and you feel his legs tighten by your sides. you grin, lifting him off your lap and pulling out only to flip him over and shove him into the sheets. his hips are raised, back arching beautifully.

“so pretty,” you say as you push back inside of him.

he moans softly into the sheets. you start at a gentle pace, still recovering over your previous orgasm. the two of you like going at it without recovery periods to see how much you can handle. it’s fun.

heesung gets overstimulated fast. even as you glide your hand over his back, shoving his face into the sheets and limiting his oxygen, he gets overwhelmed pretty fast. you love pushing him, making him twitch and whine. you enjoy getting out those pretty noises from him— and both just his noises.

“what baby?” you ask as you keep pounding into him, rough and brutal. “feel good?”

“nngh,” heesung clutches at the sheets beneath him, “slow down-“

“but you’re doing so good, baby,” you say, grabbing his hips and keeping him still. “taking me so well.”

heesung’s walls flutter around you again. you grin, enjoying when he does that.

“don’t you wanna be good?” you ask, as you pull out again. “flip over.”

heesung whines before obeying. he lays on his back and sighs. his legs spread and you smile.

“good boy,” you push inside.

you glide your fingers over his half hard girth, he makes a face, turning his head and shoving it into the sheets. he makes a noise of protest as you tease his tip with the pad of your thumb. he’s sensitive, yet leaking. he’s hardening under your touch and you feel absolutely mean as you take your hand away. you lean over him, caging him under your frame.

you thrust into him, watching how his face scrunches up in pleasure. his legs around your waist, hooked by his ankles. his arms above his head, clinging to the pillow and sheets. he looks beautiful, fucked out with his head wet and a mess. you hoist yourself up in one arm bringing the on you freed up and placing your hand on his neck. he takes a sharp breath, knowing damn well your intention. the simple fact your hand is on his neck is enough for him to cum on the spot— but he doesn’t.

he brings a hand down and puts it behind your head. he brings you down, kissing you. your fingers twitch before pressing down to choke him slightly. it’s so good, heesung whimpers into your mouth. he pants as your hips stutter.

when you spill inside him again, he cums. his eyes roll back and his mouth falls open. you grip his throat, still moving your hips as you come down from your high.

“ugh,” he gasps when you let go of his neck. “idiot.”

“me?” you laugh, brushing aside his wet bangs. “what did i do.”

heesung says nothing, looking away.

“that’s what i thought.” you argue playfully and kiss his nose.

you pull out and start to clean up. it’s a lazy effort but you focus more on heesung. you take some wipes from the desk and clean him up. by the time your in the bed again, hugging him from behind, he comments on how he wants you inside. you comply, never finding it in your to deny him. you’re sensitive and make a small noise as you push inside him.

“wanna watch a movie?” heesung asks as he snuggles back into you.

you caress his hip, staring at the phone. “we’re going to fall asleep.”

he shrugs, “and? it’ll be the best sleep we’ve had in a while for sure.”

you smile, pressing a kiss into his shoulder. “okay baby, whatever you want.”

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗦𝗟𝗘𝗘𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗜𝗗𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗥 | 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝟮

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Matt wakes up the next morning and just wants to fuck Y/N.

WARNING: Smut (mdni), somnophilia (consented!), p in v, fem masturbation.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Part 1

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Matt felt his senses slowly return the next morning. The sun that came through the cracks in the blinds kept the room warm and welcoming, warming the blanket that covered his body. The sounds of birds outside and Y/N's light breathing filling the space.

The boy tried to move, holding his breath for a moment as he felt his cock being pressed by his girlfriend's walls, keeping him warm and hard, then remembering how they went to sleep the night before.

His blue eyes closed as Matt tried to focus on anything but his completely naked girlfriend next to him as his cock was buried inside her, the scent of her skin keeping him high. But all his self control was lost when his girl's hot, sticky walls squeezed him tightly while she was still asleep, seeming to want to expel him out or bring him in more, Matt wasn't sure.

The boy wrapped his left arm around Y/N's waist again, careful not to wake her, before lifting his own left leg and placing his foot on the bed, so that he could guide his movements more easily.

Matt pushed his hips back until only his head was inside, before slowly inserting his length again, letting out a breathy sigh at the delicious sensation, thanking Y/N for using lube the night before, which along with her wetness made the contact easier and more pleasant.

Matt rested his forehead on Y/N's shoulder, closing his eyes and focusing on the sensation, his hand going to one of the girl's tit on instinct, massaging the area carefully.

His hips seemed to take on a rhythm that he was already very well accustomed to and would never tire of doing, a calm and slow one, specific to moments when he wanted to love his girl and feel every little part of her perfect body.

His back flexed with his movements, sweat starting to accumulate on the back of his neck and biceps as low pants fell from his lips.

The wet sound that Y/N's pussy made with each thrust was the only thing that filled the room, increasing Matt's arousal.

It didn't take long for the girl to wake up, a moan escaping her lips before her eyes even opened.

"Matt- Fuck." Y/N moaned slowly, pushing her hips back against the brunette's pelvis, eliciting a low moan from him.

"Morning baby." Matt said in a low voice, the fingers of his left hand now able to pinch his girl's hard nipples, pulling them, making Y/N arch her back so that her ass was completely pert and her chest was fully forward.

Matt's right arm, which had previously served as a pillow for his girlfriend, was now around her neck, forcing her head back so that he could see her expression over her shoulder. Y/N's right hand quickly snaked its way until it stopped on Matt's arm, which served as her special necklace at that moment, squeezing the spot tightly as she licked her lips, wetting them.

One of the greatest pleasures for the boy was watching his girlfriend's pleasured features as they fucked or made love, the way her eyes rolled back and her eyelashes fluttered, the way her mouth opened in a perfect circle as her tongue lolled out or arched inside her mouth at the sensation, sometimes her full lips being bitten hard by her teeth in an attempt to silence her loud moans.

Matt was able to adjust his feet so that his thrusts were deeper and stronger, but keeping them slow, not wanting to break the spell of the moment. His cock moving in and out of Y/N at a single pace, taking out almost everything and then thrusting his entire length until his red head hit the spongy spot that made his girl see stars.

"Does it feel good, baby? Does it feel good to feel my cock moving in and out of you so easily? 'Was made for me, hm?" Matt whispered against Y/N's ear, hearing her gasp and moan in response.

The girl took her left hand to Matt's back, grabbing his ass and forcing him to go deeper, rolling against his hip and Matt followed her movements, Y/N's eyes rolling as she felt his dick hit points inside her that she didn't think was possible

Sex, fuck or love was always like this with Matt, no matter how many times the two got intimate, the boy always managed to surprise her.

Matt moaned hoarsely when Y/N made a specific movement that made his dick twitch, feeling suffocated by her moist walls. He lifted his left hand, which was previously on her tits, and brought it to her bare shoulder, removing the strands of hair stuck there by sweat, planting kisses on the area, his blue eyes opening and closing constantly, feeling like he could drown in the intense pleasure.

That same hand snaked down his girlfriend's body, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind, stopping at her hip momentarily, where he squeezed tightly, smiling at the idea of ​​being able to look at the area later and see the imprint of his fingers adorning her skin in a perfect way, almost like an art.

Y/N felt unable to form coherent words, moans, and murmurs escaping her lips along with gasps and sighs, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration and pleasure, wanting to stay there forever.

Y/N's body twitched on its own as Matt moved his fingers nimbly across her clit suddenly, his hand going from her hip to her pleasure point in seconds, moving his index and middle fingers in circles and then up and down at its own pace, his hand acting automatically as if that action was already engraved in his memory.

"Fuck, look at you, I could watch you like this all day." Matt murmured, his blue eyes fixed on Y/N's face.

His hand acted quickly to lift his girlfriend's left leg into the air, his fingers pressing the inside of her knee, starting firm and faster thrusts, looking for his own orgasm, wanting to reach it with his girl. Matt took his cock out only halfway and came back in with force, making Y/N feel each of his veins massage her walls and his head press against her magic spot. Her hip movements became more frantic and uneven as her head fell further back, slamming the back of it against Matt's shoulder, telling him that she was close to her orgasm.

"Please Matt, I need- Please..." Y/N begged, unable to form a complete sentence, only able to think about reaching her peak.

"Do you want to cum, babe? Are you going to give me one, hm?" Matt asked against the top of her head, closing his eyes as he felt his own orgasm begin to rise.

"Please. Please, Matt, please." Was all Y/N could say, her hands clenching into fists in their respective places, marking her boyfriend's skin and crumpling the sheets.

"Cum for me, love." Matt whispered and his approval was what made Y/N collapse, her legs shook incessantly as her stomach contracted, the fingers of her hand taking on a white color with the strength the girl used in her grip, her head pushing firmly against Matt's shoulder as her eyes rolled back tightly, her mouth open in a perfect O as loud moans escaped her rosy lips.

The image along with the way Y/N's pussy squeezed Matt's dick tighter than before brought him to his own orgasm, strong and hot jets reaching the depths of his girlfriend's pussy. His left hand went down from the girl's knee to her thigh, squeezing the area tightly, while his right hand, still around her neck, clenched into a fist in pleasure. His own thighs shook from the intense orgasm as his mouth opened and gasps and sighs came from his lips, along with some moans and calls of his girlfriend's name.

A few seconds passed and the two felt the waves of pleasure gradually diminish, their minds becoming active again as panting echoed through the walls of their shared room.

Y/N opened her eyes slowly, her vision adjusting to the brightness of the room that was almost imperceptible before, lowering her leg that was still in the air.

Matt took his length out of his girlfriend slowly, afraid of hurting her, knowing how sensitive she would be, his left hand going to her stomach and caressing the area affectionately, kissing her shoulder repeatedly.

The girl lightly squeezed Matt's arm one last time, before taking her hand away, turning on her boyfriend's bicep so that she was now facing him. Matt's right hand quickly found comfort in Y/N's hair, caressing it.

"Hi." She smiled big, her eyes shining with love.

"Hi." He responded, laughing lowly as he brought his face closer to hers, his lips finally finding the ones he loved so much, his tongue passing through Y/N's closed lips, wetting them and asking for passage, which was granted.

A slow kiss began, the kind that makes you want to stay there forever, the kind that allows you to breathe through your nose calmly, lengthening the time of the gesture.

Y/N broke the kiss, placing her forehead against Matt's and closing her eyes, breathing in, absorbing the natural scent of the brunette's skin and the lavender of the blanket.

"I love you." Matt whispered, his left hand making a calm and affectionate path from her thigh to her waist, touching his nose to hers in an eskimo kiss.

"I love you more." She responded, letting out a low laugh at the gesture and moving closer, pressing their bodies together, her face settling against Matt's chest so that the top of her head was under his chin, her right arm wrapping around his waist. A sigh of relief and comfort escaped her lips, her mind convincing her to enter a state of sleep again.

"Sleep, baby. Today, we have the day to ourselves." The brunette muttered, knowing it was Saturday, so she had no work, and he had no videos to record. His lips found the top of her head, kissing the area for long seconds while he inhaled through his nose, instantly relaxing, being able to enter the world of dreams again.

[tsumuus]

bakugou with a s/o who’s love language is physical touch

Being in a relationship with Bakugou Katsuki was like navigating a storm. His intensity, sharp tongue, and aversion to most things mushy or sentimental were well-known, and you had learned to adapt to his ways over time. You knew he wasn’t one for touchy displays of affection; in fact, you were more than aware of his discomfort when people got too close. It was just who he was- a man who cherished his personal space, who communicated more with his actions and words than through physical touch.

But physical touch was your love language. It was how you expressed affection, comfort, and care. A gentle brush of fingers, a soft hug from behind, or even just holding hands- it made you feel connected, loved. Yet, for the sake of Katsuki, you always held back, afraid to push boundaries, afraid that your touch might feel like an intrusion rather than a comfort. You understood him, respected his space, and never wanted to make him uncomfortable, even if that meant stifling your natural instincts.

Still, there were times when the need to touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin, became overwhelming. On those days, you settled for brushing your arm against his, or leaning your head on his shoulder for a brief moment before pulling away. You told yourself it was enough. But sometimes, you longed for more.

Katsuki, on the other hand, was more perceptive than he let on. He noticed the way your hand hesitated before reaching for his, the way you quickly pulled away after a brief touch, the way your shoulders slumped ever so slightly when he moved away too quickly. He knew you were holding back, that you were trying not to burden him with your need for physical affection.

And damn it, it made him feel like an idiot.

He wasn’t blind to how much you loved him, nor was he oblivious to how you expressed that love. You were all soft touches and warm embraces, while he was all rough edges and biting remarks. It was an odd combination, but it worked. Still, the thought of you feeling like you had to restrain yourself for his sake left a bitter taste in his mouth.

One evening, after a particularly long day of training, the two of you were lounging on the couch, the quiet hum of the television filling the room. You were curled up on one end, a safe distance away from him, your hands tucked under your legs as if you were trying to keep them from reaching out. Katsuki, for once, wasn’t in the mood for distance.

He shifted closer to you, making you glance up in surprise. Without a word, he reached out, his hand finding yours and pulling it from under your legs. His grip was firm but not rough, his fingers intertwining with yours as he tugged you toward him.

“Katsuki?” You questioned softly, uncertain of his intentions.

“Come here,” he muttered, his voice low and gruff. His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you against his side. It was uncharacteristic of him, this sudden display of affection, but you didn’t protest. Instead, you let yourself melt into his warmth, your heart pounding in your chest as you rested your head against his shoulder.

His touch was hesitant at first, almost awkward as if he was unsure of how to navigate this. But then, as he felt you relax against him, he allowed himself to do the same. His arm around your waist tightened slightly, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Your hand, still held in his, was brought up to rest against his chest, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your knuckles.

“You don’t have to hold back, you know,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “You wanna touch me, then touch me. I don’t care.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. It wasn’t often that Katsuki was this straightforward about his feelings. You knew he cared, knew he loved you, but he rarely expressed it so openly.

“Are you sure?” you asked, still hesitant despite his words.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he replied, his tone slightly irritated, but you could hear the underlying softness in it. “You think I don’t notice when you pull away? I’m not a damn idiot. I know you need this.”

You bit your lip, your eyes stinging with unshed tears as you squeezed his hand. “I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

“You don’t,” he interrupted, his voice firm. “It’s just… different with you, okay? I’m not used to it, but… I don’t hate it. I kinda like it, actually. So stop holdin’ back.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, warmth flooding your chest as you leaned up to press a soft kiss against his jaw. “Thank you, Katsuki.”

He grumbled something under his breath, but you could see the faint blush creeping up his neck, and it only made your smile widen. You knew he wasn’t the type to initiate touch often, and you never expected him to be. But knowing that he was willing to make this effort for you, that he was willing to let you in just a little bit more, made your heart swell with love for him.

You snuggled closer to him, your free hand reaching up to run through his hair, and this time, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let out a contented sigh, his eyes closing as he relaxed against you.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was more than enough.

masterlist

[evergone]

Rumours

Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: swearing.

Description: Theo and the reader aren't particularly close friends until a storm terrifies the reader, and Theo has to take her to her room. Scandal ensues.

Night began to ride in on the back of a storm and through the large windows looking out into the lake you could see schools of fish swimming further down to hide amongst the weeds and mud below the dungeon. Wrapped in a large cream coloured goat’s wool blanket, and layered in both a brown cotton jumper and your green-lined robe, you found warmth by the crackling fireplace as you sped through your Potions homework, well aware that you would never get it completely finished by Monday when it was due. Vanilla and chamomile candles lit themselves around the long common room and their scent wafted through the space, mixing with the smell of the burning wood and adding to the all-encompassing sense of home.

Lightning struck the lake, the first of what would be many times that night, and you waited anxiously for the oncoming thunder. It broke out from a whimper to a roar, so loud it shook the common room, and the two green glass bottles sat atop the elaborate stone mantelpiece of the fireplace swayed into each other with a quiet ‘clink!’ as if making a toast. Stress seized your mind, and while you contemplated moving away from the windows, you couldn’t find it in yourself to get up. Just about frozen from phonophobia, as well as from your complete mortification at the thought that someone unkind could discover this fear, you scribbled over your homework parchment absentmindedly.

As another bolt of lightning met with the lake, the entrance to the common room swung open and the ever-familiar voice of your dearest friend, Pansy Parkinson, and some of your other housemates disturbed the mostly silent space. Gaze transfixed on your homework, you didn’t notice them make their way across the deep green and shining silver mosaic floors until Theodore Nott overly fondly pushed you further to the edge of the lounge you were on and stole half of the blanket from you as he sat down. Thunder raged again in the gloomy, storm-charged atmosphere, twice as loud as the groups’ conversation and your body tightened to a tense.

As Theo made himself more comfortable, he threw you an awkward smile as a swift apology for invading your personal bubble.

The two of you were hardly friends, just friends-of-friends, and it was for no reason other than the convenience of the group that you were ever in each other’s company. Occasionally, there would be a free period that you’d both spend in the library and whoever had gotten there first would wave the other over and you’d sit together, but you’d only ever do your homework quietly across from each other. No chatting, no socialising, not even a ‘how are you liking the weather?’ You were fine with this, though, as both Theo and yourself were private people. Or, at least, you pretended to be fine with the unspoken arrangement.

“You okay?” he asked, interrupting your train of thought when his hand met the section of blanket covering your knee, and the earthly wonders he had for eyes met yours.

He must have felt you when you tensed.

Simplicity was an attribute of Theo’s that you truly admired and adored. He never said a word more than he needed to. You shook your head meekly like a shy child on her first day in kindergarten. Mascara seemed the only barrier stopping you from turning your lashes into a lawn covered in morning dew — you wouldn’t be seen having it run down your face, how would you possibly hide that from the judgemental eyes of the Slytherin population? Seeming to disregard your nonverbal response as a lie, Theo waved his wand and the snake-patterned blackout curtains fell over the windows, putting a distance between the common room and the outside world.

“Is it the noise?” he guessed in a hushed tone, careful not to draw the attention of any of the others.

“Mhm,” you hummed as your cheeks reddened (Merlin be damned for letting him of all people figure you out), “Could you get Pansy to walk me to my room?”

Over on the other lounge, Pansy sat preoccupied in Draco’s lap, twiddling her short black hair between her pointer and her thumb, and laughing in an obnoxious manner at a story Blaise had started to tell almost twenty minutes earlier in the courtyard. It was some long reach piece of gossip about one of those Weasley kids — Fred? George? One of the other ones whose names Theo couldn’t remember for the life of him? He hadn’t really been paying much attention. Rested in the back pocket of Pansy’s jeans was Draco’s hand, holding her firmly on top of him. Safe to say, Theo wouldn’t be pulling those two apart inconspicuously.

“I’ll take you,” he told you.

Softly, he abandoned the blanket that once sheltered you from the nibbling chill of the late-Spring air and stood up. Both Blaise and Draco noticed this and each raised a pitch black or platinum blonde brow respectively as a questioning gesture of Theo’s motives as he held his hand out to help you up. With Theo as your guide and support, you made your way up to your room, stopping halfway up the stairs when another bang of thunder made you jump and he had to grab your forearms to make sure you didn’t fall over. You apologised awkwardly, and avoided his gaze as best you could while cherishing every moment in which his hands were on you.

At your door, you made sure to thank him profusely and honoured him with an I-owe-you which he refused to acknowledge. After ensuring you would be okay, he returned to the common room and sat in the seat he had left. Blaise had made himself comfortable where you’d once been, and the entire group stopped their conversation in favour of silence.

“The fuck was that?” Draco asked loudly.

Thunder continued to rumble overhead in the grey of the storm, adding to the grandeur of the Slytherin common room that Draco’s obscenity disregarded. Unbothered and unwilling to explain your personal troubles to the king of being the opposite of understanding, Theo just shrugged in response, and focused in on the black-furred cat that had made its way into their area as he listened to the storm as if it were music.

“Oh, shit…” Pansy said, the realisation that you had been scared by the storm finally hitting her, “I gotta go.”

Leaving Draco with an affectionate peck on the cheek, Pansy retreated upstairs, likely to go take care of you, Theo presumed. In her wake, Draco and Blaise erupted into questions. A muddle of ‘are you guys dating?’s and ‘actually what the fuck’s and ‘I didn’t even know you liked her’s were thrown at Theo who had no ulterior motives behind taking you upstairs, he had just done so out of the simple kindness of his heart. Slytherins being Slytherins, however, couldn’t fathom that he would do anything purely out of kindness. Kindness didn’t come naturally in a house dedicated to ambition and self-preservation.

“You like her, Theo, admit it.”

“Shove off, Draco,” Theo spat, pulling the blanket back over himself, “You don’t know anything.”

“Defensive!” Blaise laughed and poked his friend’s shoulder, “You are the closest to her out of all of us guys.”

Truthfully, you and Theo did spend an awful lot of time together. But that was only out of consequence, the fact that you both thoroughly enjoyed reading meant you were both always in the library looking through the hundreds or possibly thousands of leather-bound books, and you seemed to frequently happen upon each other. Outside of the library, your time was limited only to group activities because you sat next to Pansy or Daphne Greengrass in almost every class you shared with Theo and never spoke to him. He didn’t think anything of your time together. Surely, there wasn’t much to think. Right? The pair of you — no, there wasn’t any “pair” to begin with, say, the individuals of you, yes, that’s right, the individuals. The individuals of you were just happy acquaintances, nothing more.

The fire was hardly big enough to keep Theo warm against the backdrop of a fiercely windy night that had turned even the secluded dungeons cold. Even under all its fur, the cat who had made itself comfortable right up next to the flames looked still to be shivering in the crisp air. It jumped up off the floor, where the stone mosaics weren’t warming up at all, and squished itself between Blaise and Theo.

“You know, she barely even talks to us,” Draco started, “We’re her friends, of course, but when Pansy or Daphne or you aren’t there she goes all quiet.”

“And she clearly trusts you, whatever that whole thing was—” Blaise made circular motions with his arms to refer to Theo taking her to her room— “She didn’t trust any of us with it.”

Theo huffed, “She wanted Pansy, but she was busy with his hand on her ass, I had an…” He searched for the right word, “Obligation to help.”

“Because Theodore Nott is renowned for helping people,” Draco scoffed, his tongue dripping with sarcasm.

By the time you were crouched over a table in the library the next morning, making a desperate last-ditch effort to complete that Potions homework before third period, the storm had subsided. Unfortunately for you, your most outspoken friend, Daphne, had brought with her a storm of her own.

“I heard a rumour,” Daphne began as she pinned her blonde side fringe back behind her ear.

“Oh, here we go!” Pansy sighed.

Numerous scrolls of parchment were littered over the desk in the library that the three of you had made your own and Pansy was sorting frantically through them looking for all the ones with her handwriting on them — she couldn’t even remember the amount she had written on. Stacks of books on the fundamentals of potions, charms and transfiguration threaded themselves between the scrolls and threatened to fall as her inattentive sorting had her reaching over and around them sloppily. With a creak, you leaned back in your chair taking a blind gander under the desk to find another three scrolls forgotten on the elephant print, medieval-style rug that covered the wooden floors and handed them to her.

“According to hearsay, you and Theo are having some kind of fling,” Daphne continued, “Care to comment, Y/n, my dear friend?” She held a fist out towards to mimic a reporter holding a microphone.

“Who told you that?” You asked, furrowed brows adorning your face like a weighted crown as you slapped her hand away.

She shrugged then took her own scrolls which were contained in a pile on a separate but close-by desk, and put them into the spacey grey-black satchel slung over her shoulder. Clock striking the hour, your two companions bid you adieu as they headed for Ghoul Studies. Unsure whether she had found all her scrolls, Pansy took one last glance at the desk before giving up altogether, stating that if she didn’t have it then it surely wasn’t important.

Left alone to drown in your inability to finish this Merlin-darned homework, your mind wandered to the somewhat unsavoury rumour concerning yourself and Theo that was supposedly making the rounds. Details of the night prior came back in sections, split up by bursts of terror ignited by the loud storm. Most of your memories were from the latter half of the night, curled up in Pansy’s arms singing to the wizarding hits of the last five or so decades. However, the earlier moments lingered on your side and your hand — the everlasting effects of Theo’s touch. By Salazar, what you wouldn’t give to feel him again.

As if your thoughts were summons, the very boy with whom you were engaged in the beginnings of a tumultuous scandal entered your space in the library. Drawing back the chair Pansy had once claimed beside you, Theo sat down, and set some parchment and ink on the desk alongside your books and half-finished assignments. He ran a hand through his tawny brown curls, breaking his near-perfect side part as his chest rose and fell with every heavy breath.

“You look exhausted,” you smiled, taking notice of his sweat slicked forehead.

You’d never started a conversation with him before.

“I spent the morning playing quidditch with Draco,” he said with a hint of anger.

You laughed gently and missed as the sound lit a spark in Theo’s eyes, convincing him to move his seat closer to yours. Surrounding the two of you was an air as warm as a campfire at school camp, or the fireplace under stockings on Christmas Day, or the oven after baking a fresh loaf of bread. Burdened by your workload, you dug straight back into your tasks, but Theo had other ideas. Parchment was less hardy than paper, and so your homework scroll was starting to fray, piquing his interest as he took a lose thread between his fingers and toyed with it. Eyes slimmed, brow raised, you sent him a look of confusion.

“Let’s not do our work today,” he announced.

“And do what instead?” You questioned, already having disregarded your quill in the inkpot, turned wild by the promise of adventure.

Easily, Theo stood up and raised his arms to stretch out his tall spine letting a set of cracks run down it from his shoulders to his hips. The black band of his underwear exposed itself as his white button-up school shirt lifted above his belly button, and you caught yourself mid-stare at his happy trail. He made a place for himself behind your chair, his upper body leant over your head like a tree you were using for shade as he inspected the shelves full of ancient books before you. If you had died right there, you would certainly have died happy.

He was looking for something to impress you (though he couldn’t exactly justify why he’d become suddenly inclined to do such a thing), something that would gain your attention, something he could recommend so you could go back to him to talk about it. For him to find that, you would have to leave the education section in favour of the leisure section. He held his hand out to assist you in standing for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, and you took it again; his high body temperature, and calm but bored aura encompassed you at the touch of your palms. When he let go, he waved the very same hand over your belongings to cast a spell that would pack everything into your brown leather shoulder bag that was leaning idly on the leg of your chair.

“Give me a sec,” he whispered, cautious of Madam Pince’s omni-audient ear.

There wasn’t a single book he could think of that he didn’t know you had already read. Always the avid reader, you were, from the moment you learnt the alphabet it seemed you couldn’t live without a book in one hand and a pencil for annotating in the other. When he finally came across something he thought you’d like, a compilation of poetry by some witch named Winters, he hurried back to lead you elsewhere.

You followed him like a stray puppy would follow the scent of food, and he took you outside to sit below two wych elms whose branches were tangled like lovers. Blooming expanses of creeping thyme coloured the soles of your shoes a pale pink-purple as you crushed them under your feet; you would be ever grateful for the house elves when they cleaned it off for you. Pollen tickled your nose and pricked your eyes, the sun’s rays created a sheen of light across the Black Lake, and the skies had cleared completely, leaving a blue vastness to watch over the castle.

Theo laid down and passed you the poetry book, “For you.”

Taking it from him and flipping through the pages, you nodded your thanks and rested your head on the ground next to him. Human silence overcame the little space you two had made for yourselves and the sounds of nature, birds chirping, bees buzzing, leaves rustling, were the only things left to be heard anywhere near. In the distance, there was a faint echo of classes being taught, but so far away that it you wouldn’t be able to hear it unless you strained yourself immensely.

“Did you finish that potions homework?” Theo asked.

Another laugh escaped your mouth, “When have I ever finished potions homework on time?” You said with a newfound confidence, “Snape takes five house points from me in every class.”

An amused close-lipped smile spread across his face, “And here I’ve taken you away from your studying.”

“I wouldn’t have done it anyway,” you sighed, content with your predicament.

Frost-speckled grass kissed your cheek as you turned to look at him, the remnants of Winter still lasted so far into Spring. Theo turned as well, taking in every scar, freckle and acne bump that was blessed by belonging to you.

“Let’s read this together,” you said, and opened to the first page of the book he had found for you.

“No!” He rushed out, stealing it back, and placing it on the other side of him.

Confusion danced a ballet over your soft features while a blush spun savagely over his strong, sharp traits. One of your arms, your right that was furthest away from him, reached across his body in blind hope to find the gift he had so abruptly rescinded. The mole above his mouth slinked forward as he bit his bottom lip, and slid the book under the curve of his back so you’d never be able to grab it. Nevertheless, you flipped onto your stomach and shot your hand underneath him, crumbling as you got stuck under his weight.

“What are you doing?” You giggled, “Why can’t I read it?”

“I want to get it right,” explained Theo, “I picked this out on a whim, give me some time to choose something better suited for you, yeah?” You frowned so he quickly added, “Please?”

Under long lashes that appeared almost naked without the layers of mascara you usually covered them with, your enthralling e/c irises stared at him, teleporting him into the mazes of your mind where he intended to get lost. Retracting your frown and wriggling your arm out from underneath him, you lazed the side of your forehead against his shoulder which, to both yours and Theo’s surprise, struck up an affectionate sensation in your chests. From your position you could feel the way his heart pushed and pulled the blood through his veins and arteries, the tender ‘dun-dun’ of his heartbeat causing his whole body to pulse to an organised rhythm.

Five years you had known Theo and while one wouldn’t be wrong to call you associates, I must reiterate that you were never really friends. Seeing him in the library during your corresponding free periods was nice, you supposed, but you suddenly realised that you hated how far you drifted outside of the library’s book-covered walls. The previous night had been the first time in what was likely forever that you had spoken exclusively to one another without the guidance of a third party. Really, you just wanted to get to know him better, see the sides of him that didn’t show during a dead-silent hour alone in the library.

“Well, since you asked so politely,” you said with a sincere smile.

Theo opened his mouth to respond but was cut off before he was given the chance by Daphne’s high-pitched, intrusive voice screaming at you from across the field of creeping thyme, “You whores are never beating these allegations!”

Her volume gave you half a heart attack and you jolted upright, deserting Theo’s shoulder, and glancing over your own to see Daphne approaching the two of you with Blaise, Pansy, Draco, Tweedledum and Tweedle-dee on her heel. Clearly, the bell had rung for break, but between your great library escape and book shenanigan, neither of you had cared to check the time. How the others had found you was beyond your capacity to think as you waited for your heart to settle and your forehead to cease sweating following Daphne’s ear-piercing entrance.

“What allegations?” He asked her, thick eyebrows glaring, not at her, but at the content of her conversation.

“Y/n didn’t tell you?” She said, “You’ve been swept up in a scandal. Everyone thinks you guys are getting it on.”

Vulgar motions were made with her hands, sending Crabbe and Goyle into a bout of immature laughter. Flushed red with embarrassment, you avoided the look Theo was more-than-likely throwing your way by connecting your own line of vision with Pansy’s. She bit her tongue, widened her eyes, and nodded harshly in Theo’s direction, urging you to look at him. But you were so terribly embarrassed that you took to your feet, and ran away from your friends, ignoring them as they called out for you to come back.

You found the first broom closet that would open at the utterance of ‘Alohomora,’ and found solace in the cramped, yet perfectly concealed hiding spot. As your hands came up to cover your eyes, the humiliation of, not only the rumour, or the fact that you were caught in such a compromising position with Theo, but of the fact that you had fooled yourself into starting to think that you and Theo were building something, overcame you. Once you decided the coast would be clear, and your friends would have all returned to their classes, you opened the broom closet door, your eyes stinging with the remains of tears.

Standing before you with a look of knowing and understanding that was so much beyond friendliness, was Theo. His hands were in his pockets, and he had slung both your bag and his own over his wide shoulders.

“How did you find me?” You said quietly, and wiped your eyes, hoping you could hide their inevitable redness.

“The others were headed to Potions, but I heard you sobbing, and thought I should wait until you were ready to come out,” he responded just as softly.

“Why would you do that? You know Snape doesn’t take late homework submissions! You’re coming third-in-class!” You exclaimed.

Worry flashed behind your eyes, and he quickly leant down, and reached out to cup your face in his large, calloused hands, “Hey, hey, it’s alright! I took you away from your study first, Y/n, it’s only fair that we both fail.”

That classic frown of yours graced your beautiful features, and Theo had to withhold the urge to sigh with infatuation. It was a blessing to behold you, even when your cheeks and eyes were so puffy and irritated, and your nose was beginning to run a little. However gross it was was eclipsed by how perfect you were.

“Why are you so upset, huh?” He asked you in a gentle tone.

A small sniffle preceded your reply, “There’s this tasteless rumour about us, and I was just starting to realise how much I like being around you, and now it’s all ruined!”

Theo laughed his mellifluous, musical laugh which frustrated you into an even deeper frown, then he said, “A stupid rumour couldn’t ruin us.”

Glancing up at him, you allowed your frown to soften. He had said ‘us.’ What in the world did that mean? What, or who, was ‘us?’ Did he mean the two of you? Your thoughts ran as rampant and crazy as they had earlier when he first proposed the idea of skipping out on your study period. Quickly, you began to hypothesise all sorts of meanings and justifications for his choice of words.

“And, for the record, I love being around you, too,” he said.

Without warning, your body became charged with that uncharacteristic confidence that had only started to appear the night before, and you leant in to place your forehead on Theo’s. He looked downright idiotic from that angle, but you saw firsthand how his line of vision flickered down to your lips, and back up to your eyes. And you thought, if people must think you’re messing around with someone, you wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.

“Would you like to — Do you want to…?” You had read hundreds of books on romance, but still you couldn’t think of the words.

“Can I…?” Neither, it seems, could he.

You placed your hand on the back of his neck, and pulled him in. His lips were were raging fires, yours were wax, melting at the touch of heat. Notes of nutmeg and cypress hit your nose — his cologne. His hands gripped your waist, just lower than could be written off as friendly, and he kissed you so passionately that any onlooker would think the rumours so obviously confirmed.

Eventually, he pulled away, and you just stared at each other in total wonder. There was no way you could possibly discredit those rumours now.

[starlightsreigns]

slow down | the judgment day

summary ⇢ maia looks innocent, that's her trademark, but a certain group of misfits knows an act when they see one. it's time to test their theory, and they've met their match - she's their hardest opponent yet and she's here to win. warnings ⇢ 18+ nsfw! unprotected sex, public (sorta) sex, cursing, drinking. smut x1000, minors please don't interact!! word count ⇢ 3.4k

author's note ⇢ pls this is truly material to call me a sl*t, but here we are with NO shame. one of the only work that I have that's more than two people, so... yeah. part two, maybe???

darling, slow down

Maia’s hips sway to the beat of the loud music blaring in the club. Her hands are in the air, completely in a different headspace, thanks to the immeasurable amount of liquor she’s consumed in the past hour and a half. Her friends surround her, almost as a shield, in their own worlds. Her eyes slowly close, feeling free, not even realizing the eyes that we’re watching her, interested, thirsty, and ready to pounce.

Damian sits at the back of the room, perfectly centered to where Maia is dancing. He crosses his arms, so transfixed on her that he doesn’t even hear what his stablemates are talking about. 

“Uh-oh, look who found Maia.” Dominic slaps his hand on Damian’s shoulder, peering over to watch Maia. “Damn, man, I get it, she’s..” He trails off, almost lost in her movements. 

As the song changes, Maia opens her eyes, perfectly falling on Damian through the crowd. She smiles realizing his gaze on her. For a second, she contemplates her next move, but the fire from his gaze lights something deep inside her and she goes with the action she’d never do on a sober mind because she was way too chicken to ever do it. Her long legs are bare, her skirt is short and her stride is long and sultry as she approaches where The Judgement Day members all sit. She glances at them all, taking a moment to lick her lip. 

“Anyone wanna dance?” She leans over to ask, her breast slightly on display and the guys can’t help but take a look. 

Rhea sits back, taking in the slightly younger woman and how everything she wears hugs her body in the right way. Her eyes settle a moment on the black bralette she’s wearing and the way it doesn’t hide her hard nipples, even in the dark. Dominik focuses on her perfectly red lips and the way the lipstick hasn’t moved all night and the way he wants to smudge it. He shifts in his seat, trying to push the thought away before it manifests in a way he couldn’t hide it. Finn, on the other opposite side of Damian whose sitting in the middle, has his eyes on the length of her skirt and the way that he could drag her into the bathroom and fuck her over the sink without messing up her outfit. Then there was Damian, who is stuck on the thought that Maia wasn’t as innocent as she portrays on screen or backstage — he could see it in the way her eyes light up.

As the next song picks up, Damian stands, “I’ll take a dance with you.” He glances back at his stablemates, sending them a knowing nod. “She’ll be right back.”  

Their plan was in action, and little did they know, Maia was on a mission of her own tonight. 

Slow down. 

Maia clasps Damian’s hand as she leads him to the dance floor. A nice funky, R&B beat fills the tight space. With her back pressing onto him they move slowly and sensually. She is pleasantly surprised at the way Damian falls into step with her. The lyrics felt directed to them and she can’t help but turn to look at the older man. 

Baby, I’ve been fantasizing, just looking in your eye.

Their eyes lock on each other. Someone stumbles past and pushes them further together. Maia rest her hand on Damian’s hard chest, her motions still on the beat. Damian snakes his hand around her back, following. 

You know I’m looking for more, and you’re what I’ve been praying for.

Maia turns again, pressing her ass against Damian’s crotch, whining down, bending at the waist to slowly grind against him. His hands move towards her hips, dangerously close to her ass, and squeezing. 

I’m not one to play around like this, it’s so real, and I love how it feels, love it when we slowly sway.

She comes back up to rest against his chest, laying her head back to look up at him. They sway with the music, Damian's arms now around her stomach, staring back at her. 

I love the way we move, the way we move. 

Maia smiles to herself, feeling his light touch – Damian’s hands start at her shoulders, lightly tumbling down her exposed sides. His warm hand on her lower back makes her hum as she glances back at him. His head ducks down to press a warm kiss on her neck. She sets a hand against his thigh, wanting him to get closer to her. His scent was intoxicating and that’s all she wanted. 

We can have every night, yeah, we can have every day. Ooh, I want you too. I need you.

They stay like that for a while. Maia lets her eyes shut, letting the music take control. She doesn’t even realize the effect that she’s having on the Puerto Rican man behind her or his friends seated not too far away from them, completely checked in to what’s going on. 

And when the song transitions to another, Damian goes to move back, but she holds him in place, turning to look up at him. Nothing is said as he lets his hand slightly fall a little lower, resting on her ass. They don’t move, feeling everyone else around them. Her hand rests on his tattooed arm, slightly grazing her fingernails down making him unknowingly shudder. 

Dominik comes up from behind Damian, resting his hand on her hip. Her bright eyes met his with a smile. He pulls her into him and her thoughts shift. His hand lays flat on her stomach with her back to him, once again dancing. 

“You’re too sexy.” He mutters in her ear and she presses her thighs together in search of some relief from the pressure. “Don’t push it away.” Dominik kisses her neck. 

She throws her head back gently into his neck with her eyes closed. Dominik bites his lip, focused on that red lipstick again, desperately wanting to kiss and taste her. Maia puckers her lips, leaning up slowly as he leans down to meet her lips. The kiss is slow and deliberate. Dominik spins her around so they’re chest to chest, reconnecting their lips. She caresses his arm, lost in a trance for a while. 

“Come home with us.” Dominic breathlessly whispers in her ear, letting his hand travel down to the hem of her short skirt. 

Maia turned slowly taking him in, “And what will I win if I do.” Her lips moved perfectly and that’s all Dominik could focus on. “Lost for words?” She teases. 

“We’ll make it worth your time, mami, I promise.” 

He glances back, locking eyes with who could only be described as The Demon. Finn takes his time coming to meet the pair. Dominik gives his place. Maia’s eyes are low in the smoky room and it could drive the Irishmen crazy — and when she licks her lip, he has no choice but to give in to his desires, knowing that he couldn’t wait any longer. 

“C’mere.” His voice was thick with lust. 

Finn leads Maia past the bar, towards a bathroom, pushing the door open with his back. His friends shared a look, knowing things were going perfectly. The bathroom, matching the atmosphere of the club, was dim. He locks the door behind him and stalks towards her, where she leans against the sink, one heel slowly kicked up. Maia smirks when he finally stands in front of her. The music still pulsates through the room and her eyes dips from his to the front of his pants, pleasantly surprised to see how rock solid he was. 

It all felt like slow motion — Finn grabbed her by the hips, spinning her around to face the mirror. They stare at each other through it and Maia can’t help but press her ass against him, moving slowly, teasingly. 

“C’mon, don’t try to be a gentleman, take what you’ve come to get.” Her voice was laced with sex. She slowly hikes up her skirt, arching her back as she leans over — nothing hiding her pussy from his vision. 

At the sight, Finn groans, unzipping his pants. Maia’s breath gets stuck in her throat, feeling the tip of his dick pressing against her entrance. Her lips find themselves between her teeth again, feeling Finn pushes into her slowly. Her mouth hangs open slightly, a moan escaping. When he’s flesh against her, Finn moves his hand to sit around her stomach, pulling her up against his chest and thrusting deep. 

“Fuck.” The profanity leaves her mouth. 

As the music picks up, so does Finn’s movement. It’s not soft and she loved every second of it, he pounds into her as if he knew that’s exactly what she liked. And Maia feels like she’s on cloud fucking nine. The moans never stop from her and Finn can’t control himself at the faces she makes. He hits her g-spot, over and over, pushing deeper into her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck..” Maia is breathless, holding onto Finn’s arm, squeezing tightly.

He didn't let up and Maia was in absolute bliss. Finn’s hand moves from her stomach, down to her clit, rubbing along to his pace, making Maia reach her peak quicker. A single tear falls from her eyes and Finn kisses it, feeling her cling around him. 

A moan falls from his lips, “Go on, baby, come for me.” He bites her lips softly as she completely falls apart against him, feeling the orgasm shake her to the core. “Good girl.” He grunts, and his pace becomes sloppy. 

Maia has to muster all the power in her body to pull him out of her, crouching down in her heels to take him in her mouth. She strokes his dick, letting the tip hit the back of her throat until Finn’s eyes squeeze shut, coming down her throat. His groans are like music to her ears and when she swallows, she looks up at him through her eyelashes, plastering an innocent look on her face. 

She stands up, pulling her skirt down. Maia presses a kiss on his neck, smiling at the light red stain that she leaves. Her finger lightly traces it. 

“Wanna take me home?” Her manicured finger rests on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.” She winks, stepping out of the bathroom, and leaving him to get situated.

After more dancing, Maia stepped out of the club in desperate need of fresh air. She leans against the windows of the building, staring out at the parking lot. Even after her bathroom quickie earlier, she wasn’t satisfied and the cold air hitting her skin only heightened that need. As if on cue, Dominik pushed the door open, his eyes immediately landing on hers. 

“What you doin’ out here, mama?” Dominik comes up to her, pulling her towards him.

“Just gettin’ some air, what’s up with you, Dom?” Maia hooks her finger around one of his belt loops. “Come to keep me company?” 

They shared a quick look that solidified the fact that they weren’t outside for air. 

The car is parked in the back corner of the parking lot. Maia rested her back on the cool leather, humming as Dominik peppered kisses on her warm skin. She smells like a mixture of vanilla and cinnamon. He lays his hand gently on her thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb. They maintain eye contact as his finger finds her heat, slowly running a finger through her slick folds. Maia bites her bottom lip with an exhale, resting her head back. 

“So fucking pretty.” He murmurs, sliding a finger into her wet cunt. Maia’s mouth slightly falls open, arching her back looking for more. “Mm, so wet.” 

“Fuck me, please,” She whined.

Dominik chuckled, drinking her in as he unbuckled his belt. Maia had her skirt bunched up around her stomach and her top down slightly to expose her hard nipples. Maia sits up slowly as he pulls his dick out of his pants, stroking a couple of times, his eyes on her. 

“Come ride me, baby.” 

Maia peels off the leather, straddling over him, pressing a kiss onto his lips as he pushes into her. Dominik squeezes one of her breasts, flicking his tongue over her nipple. The sound of their slapping skin is the only sound in the car. 

“fuck,” Maia moans, resting her forehead against his. “oh yeah, just like that.” She holds his face in her palms, printing her red lipstick all over his mouth.

Their pace quickens and their moans start to mix together. The windows start to fog as Maia throws her head back, holding onto Dominik’s shoulder trying to chase the high. His hands connect with her ass several times, the slaps ringing out in the car. Maia groans, 

“You look so fuckin’ good, baby,” Dominik murmurs in her ear. “Come here.”

The new position had Dominik hovering over her with Maia’s legs basically touching the roof of the car. A yelp escaped from her mouth when he slid back in her, making her eyes roll to the back of her head. The pleasure rushed over her again. Her breath caught in her throat, pressing her hand against his chest. 

“Fuckfuckfuck,” Maia moaned, filled with lust. “Holy shit.” she gasped feeling the butterflies in her stomach. 

Dominik’s moans and grunts filled her ears as he drilled into her at a relentless pace. Maia could barely open her eyes to see the fogged-up windows or his sweaty chest, all she could see was stars and her release on the brink. She was so close. 

“Go ‘head, Maia.” Dominik’s voice lulled her on. “Cum for me.” 

And with that, Maia feels all her walls tighten. She lets out a ragged breath as he fucks her through her climax and proceeds to chase his. Maia locked eyes with him while licking her still-red lips. That tears Dominik apart as he pulls out, cumming over her stomach with a grunt. 

Maia smiles drunkenly, closing her eyes for a moment in bliss. 

— 

 The air in the car was thick. The anticipation of what was coming was enough to power the city. Damian sits behind the steering wheel, Finn in the passenger seat with Maia in the backseat between Dominik and Rhea. Her eyes slowly look up to the rearview mirror, catching Damian's gaze as she licks her lip. His hands tighten around the steering wheel, impatiently. 

—

The house is impressive, but Maia’s thoughts were on everything but that. She holds a new cocktail in a square glass in her hands. She stares out at a pool in the backyard, nearly done with her drink when someone comes up behind her. The lights in the room are low, and music from the club is playing. The person behind her moves her hair, resting a kiss on her neck. She slowly closes her eyes, leaning back against them. 

“I never got that dance.” Rhea’s Australian accent fills her ears. 

Maia turns, setting her glass down. “I can give you a dance.” She murmurs, looking around the room to see them alone. “Or something better.” 

Rhea leans down, taking Maia’s lip into hers, kissing her roughly, trying to memorize her sweet taste. She leans down, hooking her arms under Maia’s ass and wrapping her legs around her waist. The kiss is breathless and they both refuse to be the first to pull away. 

“I have plans for you, baby.” Rhea bites Maia’s bottom lip. “But you have to wait.” She presses her lips to Maia’s one more time before setting her down. 

Dominik appears beside Rhea, taking the chance to capture Maia’s lips in a deep kiss, smacking her ass. She rests her hand around the back of his neck, letting her nails graze over the soft skin then moves them down to the hem of his shirt, wanting to feel his warm skin. Dominik, not breaking the kiss, moves them back to the center of the room. Another body presses up behind her, peppering kisses on her neck. 

“Let’s take you upstairs.” Finn says, lightly nibbling her ear. 

Finn leads them up the stairs, with Dominik closely behind Maia. She holds onto his hand, keeping them both steady as they enter the dimly lit room. Maia takes a moment to scan the room — it’s huge, and her eyes land on two armchairs near the window where Rhea and Damian were sitting, having stopped their conversation at the sight of her. 

Maia walks around to sit on the edge of the bed, facing the pair. She grabs the straps of her top, sliding them down her shoulder slowly, giving them all a view of her breast. She bites her lip, resting on the palm of her hands when Rhea gets up, stalking her like prey. 

“Touch me, gorgeous.” Maia groans softly. 

The Australian woman caresses Maia’s thighs, deeply gazing into the eyes of the woman under her, then gets on her knees to come face to face with her dripping wet cunt. Rhea places a soft kiss on her inner thigh, so close to Maia’s heat causing her to softly fall back against the mattress. Finn and Dominik watched for a moment but received a look from Damian and took their leave.  When Rhea’s tongue met Maia’s clit, a deep sigh left her lip, slowly arching her back. She can’t help but tangle her fingers in Rhea’s hair. 

“So good.” She moans, her breath hitching in her throat. 

Rhea rests her arm over Maia’s lower stomach, keeping her in place as she devours her as if it were her last supper. Her tongue swirls over Maia’s bundle of nerve, her tongue laying flat, sucking roughly on her clit. Maia couldn’t help but grip the sheets, trying to keep her body flat on the bed, but her body had a mind of its own. The euphoric feeling washed over her, leaving her breathless. Her breathing was labored and her hands searched for something, anything. The release was so close that she couldn’t help but shut her eyes as it washed over her with so much force. 

“Good girl,” Rhea purrs, licking her lip as Maia tries to find her breath. 

Her fingers dug into Maia’s hips to keep her still as she ate her like a starved woman’s first meal in years. Maia tried to push her legs together but was unsuccessful as Rhea dipped a tongue into her, disarming her immediately. She grinded down into Rhea’s face, moaning loudly. Maia glanced to the side to see Damian watching them intently and that only turned her own even more as she threw her head back. 

As Maia tiptoed the edge, the rougher Rhea got until she couldn’t take it any longer. For what felt like the hundredth time tonight, she came so hard until all she saw was blackness. Her breath was ragged as Rhea kissed up her body until her lips were on Maia’s in the softest kiss ever. All Maia could do was murmur a word, but she wasn’t even sure of what she said. 

It took a while for her to come to, but when she did, Maia realized that it was just her and Damian in the room. He stood from his chair and came to the front of the bed as Maia got up onto her knees. She watched him carefully as she fixed her clothes. Maia licked her lips as he crouched down to her eye level. 

“Is the nice girl back?” he teased with a smirk. 

Maia shrugged her shoulder, “who says that wasn’t the nice girl?” she whispered, looking at him from underneath her eyelashes. “I been watching you priest, you can’t fool me.” 

Damian chuckled, “and what do you mean by that, Maia?” 

“I want you and you want me all to yourself, am I right?” Maia questioned, moving closer to him. “Because I see how you look at me, I see how you all look at me, but you in particular…” 

Maia gave a dramatic sigh, “I can feel your eyes on my body, so I walk slower. Baby, I always know when you’re around, just tell me I’m wrong.” 

The room felt 1000 degrees hotter as they stared at each other. Damian took in the way Maia rubbed his arm then laid back onto her elbows on the bed, watching him with an innocent smile as if she didn’t just turn him on. 

“I want you, Maia.”

:) thank you for reading. let me know if I should do a pt. 2, but I fear I write too much damian x