#one more prompt fill to come tomorrow!

[xavieremix]

okay so the tags on that last post got me feeling those melon collies so i'm just gonna. tagdump in here. slightly sensitive topics? so uh. scroll down (or press J to jump to next post). or read my thoughts like the morning paper. sorry. cheers.

[withahappyrefrain]

number one on the smut prompts with tyler owens 🫣👀

Most people dreaded summer. The heat, the random thunderstorms, the seemingly endless droughts.

You craved it.

Summer meant late mornings, tangled up in the sheets. It meant watching sunsets in the bed of a truck. It meant going to rodeos and going home instead of a random motel.

It meant tornado season was done. Summer meant Tyler was back in your arms, spending time with you (aside from the research and occasional videos).

The exhaustive heat was still there. But he made it bearable.

"Just come join me," His voice is hot on your neck, his words stated between gentle nips as his fingers toyed with the hem of your denim shorts.

You giggled, trying to remain steadfast despite your thighs clenching, "Why do I feel like you don't want to shower?"

"Because I don't. I want to stay cool and spend time with my pretty girl," Tyler was so shameless, but you couldn't fault him; in fact, you loved that about him. How he was so insistent on talking to you one night after a rodeo, leading you to this very moment years later.

"Please?" How could you ever say no to those stunning green eyes?

The cold tile was refreshing, the cool water giving your heated body a much needed reprieve. Tyler's mouth was unrelenting as it alternated between your lips and your neck, his fingers quickly thrusting in and out of your soaked folds.

You had one hand tangled in his dark blonde hair, tugging on the locks in a desperate attempt to lure his lips back to yours. The other was gripping one of his broad shoulders, no doubt your fingernails creating crescent shaped marks that Boone would tease him about tomorrow.

"Think she's ready for me?" His lips ghost over yours, so close to giving you what you wanted.

You nodded, unable to speak due to how his thumb was drawing lazy circles on your clit.

He hoisted one of your legs up, pinning your knee against his hip. Upon feeling his cock enter, you tilted your head back, a deep moan echoing off the shower tiles.

The sound of skin slapping against skin was barely audible over the shower. No matter how many times you two did this dance, it still took your body some time to adjust to the sheer size of him.

Because of course he was big.

"S'fuckin tight," Tyler grunted, his Texan upbringing shining through in his words, "Every time."

You buried your face into his neck, hoping it would muffle the sounds of your pleasure soaked sobs.

He was relentless, hips all but slamming into yours, determined to push you over the edge. You learned early on that when Tyler put his mind to something, he made sure to see it through, whether it was a storm or your orgasm.

You clutched onto him for leverage, your legs shaking as he got you closer to making stars explode behind your eyes.

"That's it, c'mon pretty girl," he chuckled at the way your tight walls clenched around his cock upon hearing his special nickname for you, "Lemme feel ya. Wanna feel ya soak me."

Almost as if on command, your vision went white as pleasure shot through your body. You were yelling saying something, most likely his name as you soared through the blissful trip.

"Ah fuck, pretty girl," his hips snapped against yours once, twice, three more times before stilling, his own release quickly filling you.

The sound of the water hitting the tiles and your heavy breathing filled the room. Finally, you were the first to chuckle, breaking the ice.

"Welcome home baby," you grinned before pressing a kiss against his wet cheek.

"Welcome home, pretty girl."

[navybrat817]

Back to the Office

Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You got back to the office to get your phone and stumble upon something you shouldn't have seen.

Word Count: Over 2k

Warnings: Dark AU, minor character death, mention of blood, threat of violence, kidnapping, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @youdontknow-things requested Bucky and a visit Under the Boardwalk (dark) with prompt #28 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You quietly entered the building and sighed when you caught the time on the clock nearby. Most of the lights were off since everyone was gone for the night, but you didn't mind since you wouldn't be there for long. You just couldn't believe you made it all the way home before you realized that you forgot your phone, too preoccupied with reading a new book on the train. It was a downside of having to go into the office three days a week. Now you’d have to rush to make dinner or order out once you got back.

At least your desk was on the first floor and you could work from home tomorrow.

You passed by a few cubicles and shook your head once you made it to yours. It wasn't much, but it was still your space. “There you are,” you muttered, your phone sitting right beside your keyboard where you left it. Grabbing it, you smiled to yourself when you saw a text from your mom. She was always checking on you.

Just as you were about to respond, you noticed a dim light out of the corner of your eye. It was coming from your boss’s office. You should've known he was still there since it wasn't unusual for him to stay late. He was the kind of boss who showed up first and left last. He also had a good sense of humor to balance out his hard work ethic.

You walked down the hall before you could stop yourself and knocked twice on the cracked open door. He didn't say anything, but his rule was you could always go in if the door wasn't shut and locked. “You know, the company won't go under if you go home,” you giggled as you pushed the door open completely.

Your laughter died in your throat when you saw your boss facedown on the floor in a pool of his own blood. The sight and coppery scent that filled the room made your stomach roll and you tried to force air into your lungs as your phone fell from your hand. You felt paralyzed, unable to go to his side to check his pulse. But from how still his body was, you sensed he was dead.

What happened to him?

“You aren't supposed to be here.”

A deep and oddly pleasant voice you didn't recognize drew your attention past the body to the desk. A tall man clad in black from head to toe met your wide-eyed stare with a soft smile. With cobalt eyes, long dark hair, and broad shoulders, you would've found yourself attracted to him in any other scenario. But this stranger exuded danger.

You were in trouble.

“W-Who are you?” You asked, unable to keep your voice even. “What happened to him?” You added, not wanting to outright accuse him of anything.

He tilted his head. “I’d tell you, but…” He winked, the rest of the statement hanging in the air as the tension skyrocketed.

I’d have to kill you.

Your legs shook before you took one step back. The second step you took made him frown. The third stepped he moved toward you. You turned and ran as fast as your feet could carry you. If he caught you, would you end up in a pool of your own blood, too?

Blame it on fear or disorientation, but you took off in the wrong direction. Instead of heading toward the front of the building like you should've, you went straight toward the supply closet at the other end. Your hand shook as you locked it behind you, your legs giving out as you caught your breath.

Fear raced down your spine as you cowered on the floor, blankly staring at the door in front of you as you hugged your knees to your chest. You bit your lip and tried not to make a sound when slow footsteps approached. Maybe there was a chance that the man didn't see where you went. It was a stupidly optimistic thought.

And you couldn't believe you dropped your phone. You could've tried to call or text someone for help. Would it have done you any good though? By the time anyone got there…

“I know you're still here and I’m sorry. I was kidding with that whole ‘I’d tell you, but I’d have to kill you’ implication. Bad joke given the circumstances.” His voice rang out clearly through the door. “Bet you’ve never seen a dead body before. I know it can be quite a shock.”

The image of your boss dead in his office was one that would haunt you.

“Everyone calls me Bucky,” he said, so casually that it unnerved you. How was he so calm? “It's a nickname.”

You never heard your boss or anyone around the office mention someone named Bucky. It was a name you would've remembered since it wasn't exactly common. What did he want?

“I was sent here to kill your boss. As you can see, I succeeded,” he continued when you didn’t respond, his voice slightly louder. Closer. “I’m very good at my job.”

You whined, tears burning your eyes. Your boss was kind to everyone. He had a family. Why would anyone want to cause him harm?

“Bet you didn't know he was mixed up with some bad people. Ones who aren't so forgiving with anyone who tries to steal from them. Of course you wouldn’t know. Why would you?” He mused.

Your heart pounded when he stopped in front of the door, his feet blocking out some of the light that came through. You backed up more as if that would help you. Whatever your boss was mixed up in, it didn't justify killing him.

“Sorry you had to see the aftermath. Like I said though, you weren't supposed to be here,” he went on, knocking twice on the door and making you jump. “Can’t say I’m entirely upset that you're here. My team and I like to be thorough when we research our clients. So, naturally, we have a file on you.”

You clamped a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming or yelling at him. He didn't really have a file on you, did he? He was just toying with you. He had to be.

But when he spoke your name like honey on his tongue, you knew he was serious.

“Been working here for what? A few years now? Kind to everyone at the office. Their ‘go-to’ when they need help, but you’re underappreciated. No one even thanked you for that cake you brought in earlier this week.” Your stomach dropped when he chuckled. How did he know? “And you haven't gone on a date in about six months. Bet you're pent up. I can help with that.”

Your skin crawled, but you stayed quiet. Your life didn't concern him. Except in a strange way it did. Because your life was now in his hands.

A sigh came from the other end of the door. “I know you won't believe me, but I won't kill you. You’re innocent in this. I do have to take you with me though because I can't trust that you won't go to the cops. Can't have loose ends. You understand that, right?” Bucky said, his tone almost pleading with you to see it his way before he knocked twice again. “So open the door.”

No. You couldn't go with him. The man was a killer. “I won't go to the cops,” you promised once you lowered your hand from your mouth. You just wanted to go home. “I won't tell anyone what I saw.”

He chuckled again. “You’re so cute. And you're a good girl, aren't you?”

Heat spread up your neck. “Please, if you just-”

“You have two options. First option, you stay in there and I break down the door. If I have to do that, I'll drag you to my car, throw you in the trunk, and chain you up in the basement once we get to my home.” Fear shot through your body. “I'll feed you bread and water so that you don't starve, but it'll keep you weak enough that you won't be able to run far or fight back should you get out of your chains. Who knows how long I’ll keep you down there?”

Your mouth parted in horror and you wondered if he could hear how hard your heart pounded through the door.

“Oh. And I'll go through the contacts on your phone and start killing them off. One by one.” He paused when you choked on a sob. “I'll start with your mom and dad.”

Squeezing your eyes shut didn't stop a tear from falling. “Please, don't,” you begged. You couldn't let anything happen to them.

“Now that's the first option,” he said in a gentler tone. “The second? You open the door and come with me. I'll hold your hand while you sit beside me in the car and I'll make sure you're nice and comfortable when I take you into my home. I’ll feed and care for you, and your loved ones will be safe.”

A shuddering breath left your lungs. Going with him willingly was the lesser of two evils. “If I go with you, you really won't hurt my family or friends?”

“You have my word, doll face.”

He could snap your neck the second you opened the door. He certainly looked strong enough to end your life without breaking a sweat. Could you trust him to keep his word? Did it matter? You sealed your fate the second you came back to the office.

At least if you went with him, there was no reason for him to hurt anyone else, right?

“You said you had a team. What about them?” You asked, sniffling as another tear fell. Would they want you dead?

He cooed, like it would comfort you in a sense. “Don't worry about my team. They’ll be here soon to take care of the mess, but they won't lay a finger on you. You have my word for that, too. Just open the door.”

If you let too much time pass, he’d likely make good on his promise to break down the door and everything else after. “Okay, Bucky,” you said, as if saying his name would humanize him. You pushed yourself to your feet, wiped your eyes, and reached for the door handle. “I’m going to trust that you’ll keep your word.”

You barely had the door open before he reached in and grabbed your arm, yanking you out so you were nearly pressed up against him. Instead of pain like you expected, it was surprisingly gentle. His iron grip wasn't breakable though and there was no use in fighting. He won. Both of you knew it.

“I like how you say my name,” he smirked, holding up your phone before he pocketed it. You made a sound before he shushed you. “I won’t hurt them since you came out here willingly, but I can’t exactly give your phone back to you now, can I?”

“I guess not.” You swallowed, your throat dry. He pulled you close and you wished you could pull away. “When will you let me go?” You asked, hoping in your heart that he'd grow bored of having you around and set you free.

His brows furrowed, confused by your question. “Never,” he stated.

A single word snuffed out the hope like an extinguished flame on a candle.

“Never?” You whispered, fear filling you all over again when you looked into his eyes. You saw your future in them, something dark and cold. You longed to feel warm. “But my-”

“I have my very own doll to play with now, so why would I let you go? Oh, don't be so tense. I promised I’d take care of you.” With a loving smile, he used the other hand to caress your cheek. You would've collapsed in a heap if he wasn't holding you. “Let’s go home.”

Home to him. A prison to you. All because you just had to go back to the office.

So, that happened. Maybe we can revisit this yandere-like Bucky in the future? What do we think? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[buckets-and-trees]

Whining to Bucky that you're horny, but also that it's too hot and you're too sticky for sex 😫

Title: Too Hot Characters/Pairings: Bucky x Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 700 Summary: Standalone part of the Desperate to Devoted story. Summer in the city. Heatwave. Too hot. Boyfriend doesn't care.

Content/Warnings: established relationship, vaginal fingering, excessive heat wave, vibranium arm special features

Author Notes: IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO READ ANY OF THE REST OF THIS SERIES. True stand-alone but does take place after Big Conversation, so they're at the point of an established, committed relationship. Week six of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer - the prompt was "I won't be able to stop myself." Also filling my April box for Build-a-Bucky Bingo with the "gradually moving in together" prompt.

Flat on your back on your bed, you heard the buzz of your phone on the mattress next to you, but you didn’t want to move.

You’d finally edged out of being miserably hot after laying under the ceiling fan and enough of the day’s heat wave levels of heat only just beginning to dissipate outside.

Checking the text would require moving, and your limbs still felt like too much of a burden.

Bzz.

You weren’t sure if it was another text or the reminder that you had an unopened message, so you didn’t open your eyes.

Bzz.

Bzz.

You smiled and finally reached for the phone. Only one person would be sending you multiple texts.

Bucky.

Lifting the phone and opening your eyes, you saw you were right and unlocked the screen to read the messages.

BUCKY: Just landed, will head your way as soon as we debrief.

BUCKY: I know it’s only been two days, but I missed you like crazy!

BUCKY: Should I pick up something for dinner?

BUCKY: Can’t wait to hear your laugh and feel your lips against mine you have me crazy for you…

Your smile turned into a grin, and you rolled over onto your stomach and began typing your reply.

YOU: No food, only ice cream. Too hot.

YOU: Missed you, too, but no touching. Too hot!

You sent the red, hot-faced emoji for good measure.

His reply came through a few moments later.

BUCKY: No can do, I’m dying to sink my cock into your cunt.

Your stomach instantly flipped reading those words.

“Fuck you, Bucky Barnes.”

YOU: Hot is winning over horny.

At least for now. Though your core was feeling enticed, the rest of your body rebelled against the thought of the heat of another body anywhere close to you.

BUCKY: We’ll see about that… I won’t be able to stop myself.

Your stomach flipped again.

Six months ago, Bucky was the man you begrudgingly worked with when assigned to missions for his team, and now he was your insatiable boyfriend.

YOU: When you get here you might change your mind…

An hour later, you heard Bucky’s key turning in the lock of the front door. He hasn’t moved into your place, but he’s over often enough now that you gave him a key.

“Damn,” he said, voice raised enough for you to hear him in the other room, though your place isn’t terribly large. “I had no idea it was this hot!”

“Air conditioning is out,” you replied. You heard him setting a couple of bags on the counter – likely food he picked up. “They have someone coming tomorrow to look at it.”

“You should’ve gone to my place,” he said, “even when I’m not there, you’re always wel-,” he paused when he stepped into the bedroom doorway, “-come.”

He groaned.

“Do not even touch me,” you warned in all seriousness.

“This is not fair,” he replied. “You expect me to leave you alone when I haven’t seen my girl in two days, and you’re laid out in only your underwear on the bed?”

“I do not want any skin on my skin, Barnes.”

It was a testament to how hot you were that your brain had not even come close to thinking of the key Bucky had also given to you to his place.

You didn’t open your eyes, too exhausted from the heat, but you could feel his gaze roaming over your form.

“You’re making this hard in more ways than one,” he grumbled.

“I’m resigned to my melted fate.”

The mattress dipped with Bucky’s weight, and you groaned. “No.”

But then you gasped and your eyes flew open when very cold vibranium fingers skimmed up your inner thigh.

“No?” he chuckled.

“I didn’t know you could…?” you trail off, distracted when his fingers slip beneath the gusset of your panties and begin to tease your wet folds.

“It’s not a feature I usually need.”

You gripped the cool metal of his arm, holding him firm against your pussy.

“I want one orgasm from my girl, and then we’re staying the night at my place. It’s too hot here for anything, and definitely too hot for everything I want to do with you tonight.”

You whimpered and let your legs fall open when two of his fingers entered your aching hole. “Deal, absolute fucking deal,” you agreed.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

....I'm sure that was not the intention when Suri programmed his limb to be able to drastically change temperature, but certainly coming in handy at this moment. 😏

[queers-gambit]

Love What You've Done with the Place

song by Rascal Flatts

prompt: he's never been a man built for relationships, until you come into his life. now, the house feels like a home.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 1.8k+

warnings: more brain rot rambles, probably cursing, NOT edited, very docile, fluff, romance, hardened men being simps.

It started with clothes. Just a few, here and there; left behind, forgotten, purposefully stuffed in his dresser for when you stayed the nights. He didn't mind, in fact, Tangerine encouraged you to bring whatever you felt comfortable with leaving since he hated how early you'd leave in the mornings to get ready for work. He found his mornings were peaceful when you were around; neither rushed, both content, starting your days on high notes with each other.

So, he made the decision and found an old sitting-vanity for you. He put it in his bedroom simply because he was fascinated with the hair and make-up process; thinking it was incredible that women had such skill. When he came home about 3 months ago, he noticed your vanity when he first got home from a particularly difficult mission. Your chair was draped in an old university tee shirt, and he smiled.

It was like watching your comfort grow and it warmed something deep in Tangerine's heart. Your make-up wasn't always in a neat array, sometimes just left from a quick touch-up; making the house feel more like a home.

Tangerine also bought a strainer for the shower's drain to catch your hair. He didn't get angry like previous boyfriends did when he found strands of your hair left behind - not on purpose or by some gross standard, but it was natural that hair shed in a shower and not every single strand could be picked up. So, to make life easier, he just quietly bought the hair trap, placed it, removed whatever empty bottles from the shower, and went about his day. But then he started to notice your hair left other places.

His counters, his sink, the floor, your vanity, his bed sheets and pillows.

Tangerine had his issues with possessiveness in the past, but this wasn't remotely similar. No, Tangerine found himself smiling when he would find your hair in his clothes; thinking it was funny, almost like a mark or badge of honor to designate him as yours. It was a brief thought, but Tangerine actually felt giddy by the idea of people just knowing he was off the market 'cause his lady's hair was clung to his suit jackets.

He liked it. He really did. He'd not admit it aloud, but he liked it.

Tangerine wasn't the most humble man in the world, but he certainly liked to flash what was his. Golden jewelry, expensive, tailored suits, shining Italian leather shoes. And now, you, the woman who invaded his heart and head - and now his home. He adored showing you off, feeling affirmed and invigorated by the longing glances men threw your way, and while he expected jealousy from other women, they seemed more impressed by your beauty and grace as well.

He remembers one night, after a several weeks long mission, he just wanted to hold you. His throat was a little choked up when he called you, knowing you were at home after reading an earlier text. So, you rushed over in the middle of the night and he'd yet to let you go home - three days later.

"You've gonna have to let me out of bed sometime," you smiled playfully. "I have work tomorrow - and no, I'm not calling out again."

"C'mon, love, don't leave me alone," he whispered, looking like a beaten down puppy. The mission was much harder than he'd let on, but Lemon usually always filled you in. He thought it was important for you to know certain details that Tangerine was sure to omit, knowing those were the details that haunted him.

"I'll be back after my shift," you promised, nuzzling his nose with your own. "I also need new panties and clean clothes."

He sighed, "Some in there," he pointed to his closet now.

"What?" You giggled.

"You've left enough behind, got a bit of a collection goin', yeah?" He smiled softly, wrapping you back up in his arms. With a sigh, he relented, "I'll let yah go to work, love, just... Need this a bit longer."

You obliged, but the next day, you were gone before he woke up. With a frown, Tangerine dropped back onto the bed - but inhaled deeply when his nose buried into your pillow. He hummed in pleasure, feeling himself brim with contentment, bringing the fluffy item to his chest and nuzzling it; your perfume left behind to soothe him.

Was Tangerine clingy? Oh, for sure! He didn't think so, but you knew better. The contract killer liked you close, liked his hands on you; even if it was just a hand on your waist or a nose near your neck. He missed you when gone, but he usually held himself back from texting you all day - wanting you to be able to focus on your job.

But that day? He was inept, just wanting you; wondering if he paid you the same salary, if you'd consider just staying home. So, he texted you several times.

This obviously threw you off a little, knowing him better than himself most days. But he just missed you, so, you sent a selfie - promising you missed him too and would be home right after work.

He saved the photo and tried not to dwell on how you said you'd "be home" and not "come to his place". He had to take a few moments to calm down, feeling his heart zing with unfamiliarity - but not being afraid of it like he had been when you first started dating. He could recognize he was happy, that he was excited to see you everyday, and that the idea of coming home to you was far too appealing to ignore any longer.

It seemed neither of you needed to actually have an official conversation about living together. Lemon didn't mind, in fact, he was the one who insisted you have your own key; adoring you and whatever affect you had on his emotionally constipated brother. So, some mornings, Tangerine wasn't surprised to find a slightly damp towel left hanging in the bathroom, nor by the make-up on his counter - you using that mirror because of the fluorescent lighting. He never put it back, he didn't move it - he liked seeing it. It meant you were still here, and the idea of it being gone made his stomach knot with anxiety. He also wasn't surprised when he went to use the shampoo you insisted would help his curls flourish (you were right), only to find it damn-near empty. His shower gel, too.

When you came home that evening, you had Target bags in hand; replacing whatever was empty, making Tangerine grin to himself by how in-sync he felt with you. He'd never had a connection such as this, only ever feeling close enough to Lemon, but you changed everything for them both.

How Tangerine ended up with someone courteous was truly beyond either of them. Someone kind, caring, adventurous, sweeter than pie - someone definitely out of Tangerine's league, something he never let himself forget. He adored you to your core - thinking someone such as you should never have gotten tangled up in someone like him, but he knew, if the time ever came, he'd never be able to let you go. In fact, most days, he had to convince himself not to just pick you up and carry you around while he did chores or ran errands.

The very idea of losing you sent his heart into his stomach; hallowing his chest in a harrowing fashion that made it hard to breathe. Just a week or two ago, Lemon found Tangerine in the kitchen, hand to his chest as if he couldn't catch his breath, heaving for air; his worry spiking, but quickly realizing what was wrong.

"Bruv, you've gotta breathe - calm down," he tried to coax. "You're having a panic attack, you've gotta just focus on breathing."

"Fuck off with that!"

"Seriously, man," Lemon insisted, catching Tangerine in a vulnerable state enough that he actually listened without much of a fight. When Tan seemed a little more under control of his own emotions, Lemon asked, "What the hell happened?"

Tangerine shook his head, "Nothing t'worry 'bout - "

"Bullshit," Lemon snapped. "I've never seen yah like that, mate, the fuck happened?"

It was embarrassing, but Tangerine managed to answer, "Just... Just started thinking that if she ever left me, I'd fucking crumble, mate."

This made Lemon frown, "She's not gonna leave you, man. You know that. The girl's madly in love with you, yeah? Like madly in love - like to a degree it makes her stupid in the head, all right? Obviously, you too," he chuckled, shaking his head as he affectionately ran a hand over the back of Tan's head. "You're workin' yourself up, 's all right. You don't have to think about that - ever - 'cause she's it for you, mate. Yeah? Hear me? She ain't goin' nowhere, not without you."

Tangerine needed the assurance. Being alone after having a taste of your love felt impossible to Tan now, something he was never bothered by before. Seriously, why give a fuck about a relationship when he had his brother? Someone who loved him unconditionally and wouldn't leave? And then he met you and understood why people gave fucks about relationships.

It was as if every room you ever entered was brightened up simply by your smile. Your laugh wasn't always the most ladylike, but it was genuine and true and always made Tangerine smile to himself. During any public outing, Tan was always close - we've established this - but he liked to play a small game. One of your love languages was physical touch, so, you liked kissing him if even just for a single second. He was aware of your lipstick, feeling the tacky substance stain his cheek, but he wouldn't wipe it off. His game was to see how long it'd take before someone would point it out; his reputation didn't always warrant others to feel secure enough to speak up. Some nights, Lemon would motion to his cheek, and other nights, you'd return home, remove your make-up, and swipe make-up remover over his cheek to clear the color away.

However, it wasn't often you ventured in public due to Tangerine's innate introverted nature. You went if The Agency made it mandatory or if you were feeling stir crazy, but majority nights, Lemon would find you both lounged on the couch in various positions.

Sometimes, you'd be watching a movie together or binging a show. Other times, you were reading a book while Tangerine poured over paperwork. And once or twice, Lemon's come home to find you belly laughing and playfully scolding Tangerine as he tried to paint your toe nails. It was a homey sight to Lemon: seeing his brother so in love and at ease, hearing your laughter, the entire flat filled with warm smells of burning candles and homemade meals.

It wasn't evident at first, but with you laying in Tangerine's arms, clothes left on the floor, bellies full of whatever meal you had prepared that evening, favorite show playing on the bedroom TV, he realized that he loved what you had done with the place.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[oneforthemunny]

how you like them apples |cowboy!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: you surprise eddie with his favorite fall treat, and, oh, is he surprised.

since i'm feeling so fall, i decided to write a ficlet around my love cowboy!eddie. also follows the lore that sweet girl is not the best cook lmao. super fluffy. genuinely nothing but the sweetest fluff and love.

Your head turned at the rumble of the truck, moving slowly down the gravel driveway towards the house. Eddie always drove much slower than you, always on to you about speeding down the gravel, flinging it everywhere. 

The red truck’s bed was filled with lumber, left over from the recent renovations the Ives’ family had done to their new fence, just up the road- well, that’s what Eddie always said, it was more like a good ten miles away. Irvine Ives had called Eddie up last night, asked him if he wanted it before he took it to the junkyard. He knew Eddie was repairing a patch in the fence a Bronco he was training had kicked out. 

“Back so soon?” You grinned, pressing a hand over your brows to shield you from the September sun. Not as bright as it was in June, but still unforgiving in the middle of the day. 

“Yep, wasn’t much, but I think I got what I needed.” Eddie hummed, turning the key and killing the ignition, cigarette still lit between his fingers. “Think I got enough to patch it though. Just gonna need to repaint it since it’s not the same kinda wood.” 

Your brows raised, walking over towards the driver’s side, leaning in towards the window. “I can help you with that.” You hummed, breathing in the cloud of smoke he exhaled with a content sigh. “I love to paint.” 

Eddie grinned back at you, a soft crease in his dimples that made your body buzz with excitement. “Yeah? We can go to town tomorrow if I get this done. Pick out a color.” 

“That sounds like fun.” You beam. “I was going to say we need to go to the grocery anyways, so that works out.” You hum, a large brown bag catching your attention, nestled beside Eddie in the passenger seat. 

“What’s that?” You ask, leaning on the door to see. “Apples?” 

“Yeah, Mrs. Ives insisted I take a few. Said their trees were overflowin’ with ‘em.” Eddie nodded towards the bag, lightly tapping your hand to move, opening the truck’s door. “Figure I’d give a few to Medusa. Try to do something with the rest, maybe.” 

You nodded slowly, wheels in your mind already spinning with an idea. Eddie handed you the apples, cradling the bottom until you got your grip on the heavy bag. “‘M gonna go start on this. Try to get it done today.” 

“Ok,” You hummed, hugging the apples to your chest. “Have fun, baby.” 

Eddie snorted in laughter, head ducking down, stealing a quick kiss from you. “I shouldn’t be too long.” He looked back at you, eyes narrowing in suspicion as you simply nodded, pulling the screen door open and slipping in the kitchen. 

Normally, you’d offer to come help him, sit with him and talk about nothing in particular, and hand him the tools while he worked. Not this time. You didn’t seem mad, or upset- really, you seemed perfectly happy. Which left him a little suspicious. 

The clanging of a large, steel pot falling on the floor soothed his worries, left him grinning to himself in humor as he started off to the barn. 

“Sift? What does- like move it around?” You muttered, brows pinched in concentration that was teetering on annoyance. Your eyes squinted in concentration, trying to decipher the loopy, old school cursive on the faded, yellowed recipe card in front of you. 

The first time you found the recipe box, it was buried under piles of other things, lost in the mess that was Eddie’s bachelor pad before you moved in- really, before you were in his life. His Mamaw Munson’s recipes, all her best dishes, all in one tin box. He sat in the kitchen with you between his legs, he’d poured over each one, told you which ones were his favorite, sometimes even added a little anecdote that had you beaming with joy. 

“Oh, this one was one of my favorites, baby,” Eddie had said, eyes lighting as they scanned over the card. 

“Apple Cobbler. She’d bake it in this cast iron skillet so it’d stay hot, and we’d put vanilla ice cream over it- holy shit, it was so good.” Eddie swallowed his drool, he could practically taste it still. “She used to have an apple tree before it got blown away by this bad tornado one year. But she’d go and pick them every fall when they were ripe, and she’d always make it for us. It was my favorite thing.” 

Looking at the recipe in front of you, you could see why Eddie loved it so much. It did sound really good. 

It was just very complicated. 

“Take your peeled- shit,” You looked at the sliced apples, still with the skin on, in the bowl in front of you. “Why wouldn’t you say that before I added the other stuff, Mamaw?” You huffed, pulling the drawer open for the whittling knife. 

The kitchen was a disaster, sticky and flour filled, bowls piling high in the sink; and you hadn’t even gotten halfway through the recipe. Grabbing a handful of the butter and sugar rolled apples, you placed them on the counter’s free space, carefully carving around the edge where the skin was. 

This isn’t too bad, not taking as long as I thought it would, You thought to yourself, finally in a grove of cutting around the skin, tossing the apple back in the mixture. 

A smoky, sugary, thick smell alerted your senses on your last few apples. Turning, you saw the filling that was supposed to be simmering, now bubbling with thick, burnt globs in the pot. You grabbed the handle with a panic, shoving it to the free stove eye, turning the hot one off. 

The mixture, which was supposed to be a light caramel brown, was a deep dark molasses shade. You lifted the whisk, cringing at the toughness of the gooey substance. “It’s ok,” You shook your head lightly, looking at the clock. “That’s- whatever. It’ll bake and soften in the oven.” 

Pulling out the pan, you shoved the now skinless apples to the bottom, scraping the hardened filling mixture on top. The wooden spoon nearly broke trying to mix it in, sticking out of the cemented filling. 

You could see Eddie through the small window over the sink, down to the last stake in the fence, already beginning the wiring. He’d be done soon, this had to cook for forty-five minutes, and the kitchen was a disaster. 

“It’s fine, it’ll be fine.” You muttered to yourself, pouring the batter on top, not bothering to smooth it out like the instructions said- there was no time for that Mamaw. Instead, you slid it in the oven, turning the timer. 

Eddie came in just as you’d finished putting your last dish away. Your body surged with excited heat, smug that you might actually get away with your little surprise- well, as long as he didn’t go to the back porch, where the burnt filling was in the pan, cemented in. 

“Mm,” Eddie sniffed the air, sugary and a little… smoky? “Smells good in here, baby.” He gave you a dazzling smile, hoping you wouldn’t pick up the hesitancy in his tone. 

It was no secret that you weren’t exactly the best cook. Not that Eddie cared, but after you almost burnt the house down making lasagna, he was a little weary when you’d cook. 

“Does it?” Your eyes lit up, filled with excitement that he wouldn’t dare take from you. Whatever you’d made, no matter how charred or inedible it was, he’d scarf it down with a grin if it’d make you happy. Even if it gave him food poisoning like the chicken ala king did. 

“Yeah, what’re you makin’?” Eddie reached for the oven’s handle. 

You pushed it closed with a click of your tongue, smacking his hands away. “Don’t.” You shook your head. “It’s a surprise.” 

And you were true to your word. It certainly was a surprise. 

When you placed the concoction in front of Eddie, grinning so big, so proudly, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but grin back. “Wow, you, uh, you made this for me, sweetheart?” He smiled, eyeing the plate in front of him. 

“Yes,” You giggled, topping the runny dough on top with a scoop of ice cream. “You said it was your favorite, and when you brought the apples home, I just thought I’d surprise you.” You chirped, sliding him a spoon. “I followed your Mamaw’s recipe.”

“You spoil me, sweet thing. You know that?” Eddie smiled, heart swelling at the sentiment. You really did spoil him, were too good and too sweet to him- even if you’re cooking wasn’t as good. 

“Try it.” You sat next to him, bursting with excitement. “I know it won’t be as good as hers, but I think I did a good job on it.” 

Eddie looked down at the plate, swallowing the dread building in his throat. He dug his spoon, sawing it through the thick middle until it finally came out in a clean cut. Taking a large scoop of ice cream, hoping it would mask the flavor, he took a bite. 

“Is it good?” You leaned forward, eyes rounded in hopefulness, scanning his features eagerly. 

Eddie hummed, his teeth cemented together from the filling, sure his crown might pop out from the material. The filling was tough, the dough undercooked and lacked something that made it rise, but the apples were delicious- just like his Mamaw’s except…

“Oh,” Eddie winced before he could help it, finger digging in his mouth. He pulled out the hard thing that was wedged in his molar, turning it with a brow raised. “Is that- is that a seed?” 

Your face fell, looking at the seed back at Eddie. “Well, yeah, from the apples.” You said, heart skinning in your chest. “I didn’t- it didn’t say to take them out or anything, so I just left them in.”

Eddie swallowed, stomach turning lightly at the bite. “No, it’s- I mean, it’s good, baby. Some people take them out, but- no, this is, it’s really good.” He nodded, smiling at you gently. “‘S really good.” 

“Really?” You squeaked. “Better than the muffins?” 

“Yes,” Eddie said truthfully, whole heartedly. That was the truth, this was so much better than the mess that was the blueberry muffins. “So much better. This is really good, sweetheart. You really surprised me. Too sweet of ya to do this.” 

You squealed, hugging him tightly, legs straddling his waist in the chair, lips pressing kisses over his cheeks, his chin, his lips. Eddie’s arms wrapped around you, squeezing you into him, playfully nipping at your jaw to hear you squeal, before his lips caught yours, pulling you into a heated kiss. He’d eat all your burnt cobblers if it meant you’d be happy like this, if it made you this happy. 

[chalkscene]

tears of themis ⇢ YOU DECIDE TO SLEEP ON THE COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT

ft. luke pearce, artem wing, marius von hagen & vyn richter

you’re shifting restlessly on the couch when you catch your LUKE alarm keychain—handmade by luke himself—peeking from behind the armrest, “luke says he’s sorry.” you can’t help but smile at the sound of luke faking a small voice and whatever rage that filled you from your argument hours ago has now dissipated, endeared by the sweet gesture. “you’re gonna set off that alarm by accident,” you quip, the lightness in your tone encouraging luke to come into view. “you’re not mad anymore?” he asks, cautious yet hopeful. all his years of training and building a hard exterior to be a detective have nothing on you because in the warmth behind his hazel eyes that only you can bring out, you still find the boy you grew up with. the boy you’ve always loved. “i can’t stay mad at you,” you admit, on the brink of tears, “luke, i’m really sorry…” luke is quick to bring you in his arms, declining your apology because that’s what he does—he’ll blame everything before he’ll blame you. you’re unable to hold back a sob, prompting him to hold you tighter before he whispers in your ear, “let’s not do this again, okay?”

ARTEM is going over a recent case when he realizes it’s almost midnight. he’s usually one to pull an all-nighter but gnawing at the back of his mind is the argument he had with you today—you two haven’t spoken to each other since. after having decided to put off his work until tomorrow, he walks out of his home office to join you in bed but he finds you in the living room instead, your pillows and blanket already set up on the sofa. he can tell you’re aware of his presence from the way you’re deliberately not looking in his direction. still, he attempts to catch your attention with a soft call of your name. when you don’t reply, he carefully crosses the distance between the two of you. “we can’t fix this if you won’t talk to me,” he pleads. artem’s convinced his words have fallen on deaf ears until you finally speak, “i just don’t want to say the wrong thing again.” artem understands, thinking back to what started as a simple disagreement escalating into something it shouldn’t have and before you could stop it, you were both raising your voices at each other, saying things you didn’t mean. “i’m sorry about everything i said,” your voice sounds weak as it quivers and artem immediately wraps you in his embrace. “me too,” he tells you, “we can talk tomorrow. just come to bed.” when you nod into his chest, he presses a reassuring kiss at top of your head as he promises, “we’re alright.”

as MARIUS waits for you in bed, anxiety slowly eats away at him, the argument he had with you hours ago replaying in his mind. you should’ve walked in by now, he thinks, so he waits a few more minutes before getting on his feet and makes his way downstairs. he’s rehearsing his apology, muttering to himself to test the words on his tongue but it all flies out the window when he finds you asleep on the sofa. ridden with guilt, he decides to save his sorry’s for tomorrow when you’re both lucid for a proper conversation. marius is careful not to wake you up—gently slipping an arm beneath your head and looping the other under your knees to carry you to the bedroom. he’s tucking you in bed when you begin to stir awake. “sorry,” you hear him whisper, “didn’t mean to wake you up.” “what time is it?” you ask groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “it’s late. go back to sleep.” he places a tender kiss on your forehead to lull you to your slumber before he shifts you on your side, his chest against your back as he slides an arm across your torso. “sweet dreams,” he mutters and you feel his breath on the nape of your neck. “marius?” “hm?” “i’m sorry about earlier…” “that’s my line, miss,” he quips, albeit sincerely. he gives your body a gentle squeeze as he pulls you flush against him. “i’m sorry, too,” he replies, “i never want you to go to sleep upset.”

you’re getting settled on the couch when you hear VYN clear his throat as he carefully places a fresh cup of tea on the table in front of you. “chamomile tea,” he states, “it will help you sleep better.” there’s the slightest caution in his voice but it’s enough to tell you what the tea is for—peace offering after your heated disagreement earlier. “thank you,” you mumble, gradually feeling the guilt bubbling in your chest, “you’re using reverse psychology on me, aren’t you?” there’s no bite in your tone but vyn’s eyes still widen at the accusation. “n-no,” he stutters and a giggle involuntarily escapes you, to vyn’s surprise. “i’m joking.” when you notice his body language go lax, you slowly reach for his hand. “and i’m sorry for the things i said to you,” you tell him, “i didn’t mean it.” “i know.” a soft smile curls on his lips as he interlocks your fingers together, “so am i.” you stay quiet for a moment, basking in his touch that you missed terribly before he speaks again. “if you still wish to be alone tonight, i don’t mind staying here.” you fight the urge to roll your eyes, aware of the fact that this is just him assessing your boundaries—vyn does mind and you know that—so you shoot him a dubious look instead to which he responds with a sheepish smile. “i suppose you’ve changed your mind?” you actually give him an eye roll this time. “you know you had me at chamomile.”

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝ WOW, ALL FOR ME, BABE?❞

— minors dni, recording, sending nudes, mentions of blowjob (flashback) fem! masturbation, implied blackmail?

the sweet tranquility of your study session is interrupted by what was supposed to be a phone on do not disturb.

‘vrrrrrr!’

traces of light shine onto the desk, prompting you to turn the device face up and give in to a little distraction. a groan leaves you immediately at the sight of “suguru ‼️🖤” —a name you did not set willingly— popping up on your screen.

suguru‼️🖤: send satoru a nude or smthg

your brows knit together, befuddlement dragging across your features. you’re holding the power button when three more texts show up.

suguru‼️🖤: he’s stuck with his dad or whatever, surprise him

suguru‼️🖤: if not i can send this instead…?

suguru‼️🖤: 1 attachment

sighing in defeat, muscle memory fills in your password, and you head to the messages only to immediately be met with a thumbnail of your crying face, stuffed full of geto’s cock. memories of the occasion come tumbling back, a night geto visited your room out of boredom and had you suck him off for hours under the threat of destroying a project worth a huge chunk of a class’s grade, something you absolutely couldn’t afford to fail. pulling your hair, fingering your pussy, fucking your face and, most notably, making you denounce gojo in between gags and feeble cries.

‘tell me how good you feel’ his soft voice murmurs into your ears. ‘so much better than with satoru, right?’

and you nod, you have to, unless you want geto to deny you another orgasm. ‘y-yes, ge-, suguru, you’re so much better, i promise.’

gojo would, without question, spend an entire night destroying all 3 holes in your body if he even caught a glimpse of that video, and so you set your books to the side, pulling your shorts down silky, plush thighs, and angle the camera in a way to get a good pic of your cunt. you have the unfortunate expertise of sending gojo nudes before, so you know exactly what he likes.

it only takes a few minutes of rubbing over your clit through your panties before you’re soaking wet, thoughts of porcelain white hair, strong, muscled arms, and a familiar grin dancing around the edges of your mind even though you’d prefer to think of anything else. finger trembling over the screen, you hit what you assume is the white button for a photo, phone still upright in your grasp as your fingers tease into your dripping hole. one, two are all you can manage before it becomes too much.

‘satoru..!’, you mewl into your pillow as an orgasm quakes down your spine.

you barely look at the screen as you send him the picture, huffing and panting and blinking away the blurriness of your vision. after a few moments to recollect yourself, you sit upright preparing to go clean up in the bathroom, before a set of buzzes grabs your attention.

SATORU💙💙: WOW ALL FOR ME BABE??

you start to shake your head at the overreaction to some quick photo of your pussy, before noticing the large play button over what you’ve sent. your heart plummets, because surely you did not just bless gojo of all people with a video of you moaning for him, but his next texts confirm your suspicions.

SATORU💙💙: fuck that’s so hot i love when you say my name

SATORU💙💙: CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU TOMORROW PRINCESS 👀👀

tagz: @anthoosies look babes 👀

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Prompt: The Last Lines

Choose one of the last lines of these literary works, and either create a new story/poem or continue writing the story...

“He was soon borne away by the waves, and lost in darkness and distance.” —Mary Shelley, Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus (1818)

“After all, tomorrow is another day.” —Margaret Mitchell, Gone With the Wind (1936)

“She looked up and across the barn, and her lips came together and smiled mysteriously.” —John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath (1939)

“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” —F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (1925)

“Are there any questions?” —Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale (1985)

“Yes,” I said. “Isn’t it pretty to think so?” —Ernest Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises (1926)

“She called in her soul to come and see.” —Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God (1937)

“There was the hum of bees, and the musky odor of pinks filled the air.” —Kate Chopin, The Awakening (1899)

“It’s funny. Don’t ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.” —J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye (1951)

“The eyes and faces all turned themselves towards me, and guiding myself by them, as by a magical thread, I stepped into the room.” —Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (1963)

If this writing prompt inspires you in any way, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read your work!

more last lines ⚜ the first lines More: Writing Prompts

[rowdyluv]

𝘽𝙖𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙊𝙪𝙩 · 𝙟𝙝⁸⁶

summary: Trevor isn’t a fan of how Jack’s changed for his girlfriend.

warnings: use of y/n, kind of angsty, more fluffy, trevor being kind of a bitter friend,

word count: 1.1k

authors note: i really liked the request prompt but i struggled to write it. to the anon who requested it i hope it doesn’t let you down 🥺



Y/n’s laughter echoed through the restaurant, a melody that seemed to seep deep into Jack's soul. He couldn't help but smile as he watched her throw her head back, revealing the small, delicate spot on her neck where he knew her pulse would be racing. He knew if he placed his lips to it just how the noise she would make would sound. Her hair, usually pulled back into a tidy bun, had come loose and now framed her face in a halo of curls. It may have been two years since they started dating, but Jack still found himself completely and utterly captivated by her.

As they finished their dinner, Trevor nudged Jack and motioned for him to follow him to the bathroom. "Look," Trevor whispered, "I know you love her and all, but she's holding you back, man. You need to live a little, go out with all of us, have some fun." Jack sighed, feeling torn. He knew that Trevor was his best friend, but he also knew how important y/n was to him. He didn't want to lose her, no he couldn’t lose her, but he didn't want to miss out on all the adventures he could still be having with his friends.

"Why don't you come out with us anymore?" Trevor asked bluntly. "You used to be the life of the party. Now you're just...different." Jack hung his head, unsure how to respond. "I just want you to be happy, man. I really think you're making a mistake by staying with her." Trevor opened the bathroom door and walked back towards the tables. It was purely happen chance he was even here and Jack was too. Trevor on a date while Jack was on one too.

The two boys returned to their respective tables, Jack couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in tightly churning in his gut. Trevor was on to something; he did miss going out with all their friends and having their crazy adventures. But y/n was everything to him. She made him feel loved in ways he had never experienced and supported him in everything he did. It may have only been two years, but Jack couldn't imagine his life without her now. He knew he couldn't continue like this, though. Something had to give.

That night after dinner, as the two walked hand in hand through the park, Jack managed to gather up the courage to confront his new worries with y/n. "Hey, there's something I want to talk to you about," he said, his voice barely registering over the children still playing on the playground. Y/n stopped and turned to face him, her eyes instantly filled with concern. "What's wrong, Jack?"

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I love you, y/n. I love you so much. You know that. But I feel like I'm missing out on a lot with my friends. I want to be able to spend time with them like I used to." He looked down at his girlfriend who drew in and chewed on her lower lip, clearly being hurt by his words.

"Jackie, I thought we had talked about this.. I thought you trusted me enough to know that I would never stand in the way of your friendships?. If anything, I want you to have them in your life more. You are my life, today, tomorrow, hopefully next week and further, but I want you to have a life outside of me too. I love you more than you probably think I do, but that doesn’t mean we always have to be together.” Y/n told the sweet boy standing before her. He was awestruck while she was speaking.

He looked at her, his eyes searching hers for any hint of deception. An action he instantly felt guilty for. He should’ve never let his friends inside his head. Seeing nothing but sincerity, he exhaled slowly.

"I guess I just... I just need to find a balance, huh?" She nodded, wrapping her arms around him. "I'll always be here for you, jackie. And I want you to know that I understand. We'll figure this out together."

The next weekend, Jack and y/n arranged a "double date night" with Trevor and his newest girl. The four of them went to one of the local art galleries, something y/n loved to do, afterwards they went to a cozy Italian restaurant for dinner.

As they walked side by side, Jack was overcome with a sense of excitement and anticipation. Both had been building within him since the plans were made. For the first time since meeting y/n, he felt like he was truly experiencing something elating again.

The entirety of the night was filled with wholesome laughter and conversations about everything and anything, as both couples shared stories and experiences, and found common ground in their shared love for art and food. Y/n and Trevor even managed to strike up a conversation about their favorite artists and sport teams, which surprised Jack and made him smile. He had never really thought of his best friend and y/n having much in common, but it seemed like tonight was proving him wrong.

“Seems you picked a good one Rowdy.” Trevor snickered referring to y/n. “I’m glad you changed your mind about her Zegras. But I didn’t just pick a good one, I picked the best one. At least for me.” Jack was smitten with her and Trevor fake gagged. Earning himself a laugh from all of them.

While they finished their meals and sipped on their respective drinks, the atmosphere in the restaurant shifted ever so slightly. The lights were dimmed, and a soft, romantic medley filled the room. Jack caught y/n glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, an expanse flush of warmth spread through his chest.

In that moment, Jack realized that this was exactly what he needed: a balance between his relationship with her and his friendship. He didn't have to choose between them anymore.

As the music continued, Trevor and his date excused themselves to the dance floor, leaving Jack and y/n with a moment to themselves. She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling practically screaming out her love for him and Jack himself was flooded with a rush of his affection for her.

He leaned down, gently brushing his lips against hers, whispering a quick intimate “i love you”. He placed another kiss on her lips, meant to be soft and innocent but as their kiss deepened, the warm, content feeling of love and happiness spread throughout both of them.

The rest of the night flew by in a blur of conversation, laughter, and dancing. They all truly seemed to enjoy each other's company, and Jack couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected gift. As the night drew to a close, they agreed to get together again in the coming weeks. Trevor and Jack said their goodbyes before everyone went their separate ways.

“Y/n?” Jack called out softly from beside her. She glanced up at him, as if to ask him ‘what?’ “Thank you for tonight. I really appreciate what you’ve done for me. For us.” She squeezed his hand and smiled up at him. “I love you, I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you but I hope I keep staying lucky.” Jack brought her hand up to his lips placing a quick kiss to the top of it.

[steddieas-shegoes]

try again later

for @steddiesmuttyseptember prompts slap, loud, breeding kink, vibrator

rated e | 18+, minors dni | 2814 words | check ao3 for all tags

🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻

Steve’s heart races as he climbs the stairs to his room. He promised Eddie he would wait for him to get back from Indy tomorrow to do this, but he’s been thinking about it all day. Nonstop.

And Robin made him go home to “deal with his problem” even though he was scheduled to close.

His problem being that he’s been hard for the last three hours.

It’s Eddie’s fault, really. He’s the one that bought the vibrator, left it on Steve’s bed, and then fucked off to do band things in Indy for four days.

The first two days, Steve ignored it. It was easy to do because he was still unsure how he felt about using it at all. Eddie assured him he’d love it, and Eddie was usually right about the things he likes, but a part of Steve thought that maybe this was too far.

Until this morning, when he unboxed it out of curiosity, and he found that it had five settings. And that it had a heat feature. And that it would work as a plug, too.

He shoved it back in the box and stared at his ceiling for two hours before he got up and got ready for work.

He was useless at work all day, both Keith and Robin were completely done with him.

Steve sits on his bed and thinks about this.

He could just try it out on the lowest setting and see how it works. He’ll wash it really good and then box it back up so Eddie doesn’t know. He knows Eddie won’t waste any time when he’s back; He’s just as impatient as Steve is.

But he doesn’t want to lie to Eddie, and even more than that, he doesn’t want to break Eddie’s rule.

He kinda wants to, though. A little bit.

He’s usually so good. Always does what Eddie wants, tries to be a good boy for him.

And in return, Eddie tells him he’s good, and gives him what he wants, and makes him feel like he’s flying.

He thinks breaking this one rule might be worth it.

So he unboxes the vibrator again and he makes sure it has the batteries it was supposed to come with in it and he reads the manual slowly so he understands the buttons. If he’s doing this to himself, he needs to be able to feel which button is which.

“Just the lowest setting,” he says to himself as he strips all of his clothes off. “Just to see.”

It’s thicker than he expected, so he opens himself up on two fingers before he even tries to slip it inside.

When he does, he knows he’s in trouble.

“Fuck,” Steve whines, biting his lip as he tries to find the perfect spot for it to fit snugly against his prostate.

It’s not even on yet and he thinks he’s going to come.

Once it’s settled inside, he lets his arms fall against the bed, his breaths heavy as he tries to calm down. He shouldn’t be doing this. He should’ve waited for Eddie.

He reaches down to press the button on the tip of the plug, the one that turns it on.

The moment he does, he gasps and lets out a loud moan.

The vibrations are borderline too much, even in the first few seconds. It’s a dull thrum, but it fills him, and feels like it’s making his heart beat faster and his hands shake.

He’s leaking, probably has been for a while, but it’s so much more than he usually does. Eddie likes to lick it up and spit it into his mouth, make him clean up his own mess.

Just the thought of Eddie doing that now, while turning up the setting on the plug, has Steve gripping the base of his cock to avoid finishing so soon. He circles his hole with one fingertip, clenching around the plug as he bumps up the setting by one.

His back arches without his permission, and tears spring to his eyes as his release shoots across his stomach. It’s heaven and hell, feeling so much while not having Eddie here to kiss him, and play with his hair, and wipe him down.

He goes from feeling better than ever to feeling short bursts of pain with pleasure, the overstimulation of the vibrations still happening almost too much. He manages to turn the vibrator off with shaking hands, but he doesn’t remove it.

“Fuck me,” he laughs as he tries to settle down enough to remove it.

He closes his eyes and sighs out.

The last thought he has before falling asleep is that he didn’t even get to actually touch his dick.

****

He wakes to a hand on his dick.

He’d panic more if he wasn’t familiar with the hand on his dick.

“Fuck, Eddie,” he moans, thankful that they have their own home, that no one ever has to hear the way he screams under Eddie’s touch. “What’re you doing home?”

“Apparently disciplining you,” he replies, voice cool, smug smile in place.

The room is dark, but Steve can see enough of him to know he’s figured out that Steve didn’t listen to his instructions. The hand on his dick is rough, no spit to glide the way. Steve winces at the drag as he speeds up.

“Come on, baby,” Eddie nips his neck. “You wanted to come so bad you couldn’t wait for me. Now I’m here. Let’s see it.”

Steve whimpers. It hurts, but it’s so good. The weight of the plug filling him up just adds to it as is whole body is jostled with Eddie’s firm movements.

“Can’t.” Steve takes a breath. “Hurts.”

“Awww, you should’ve thought about that before trying my new toy without me.”

And it’s the way he says it, my toy in that tone that makes Steve think he isn’t just talking about the vibrator. Like maybe Steve is his toy.

Steve’s gonna come. He’s certain of it.

Any moment now.

He feels his thighs tense.

Eddie’s hand is gone.

“No!” Steve cries. “Please. I’m so close. Please.”

“I don’t care if you’re close, sweetheart,” his words sting as he pulls away and stares down at where the plug is hidden inside Steve. “What happened to my good boy, huh? I leave you alone for a few days and you decide to misbehave?”

Steve can’t even find words to explain himself. Eddie’s hand is back on him, but this time his fingers are pinching his nipples, twisting just enough for it to bite.

They’re gone as fast as they came and Steve’s gasping for breath, arching up into the touch while wishing Eddie would lick them to ease the burn. He’s a mess of feeling right now and it’s his own fault.

Eddie’s palm makes contact with Steve’s cheek.

It’s hot, fire against his skin. The pain of the slap barely registers as he feels his own release against his stomach.

“Would you look at that?” Eddie hums. “Who knew being so rough with you would make such a mess.”

Steve feels a tear fall from the corner of his eye, but he’s too busy coming down from his high to wipe it away.

Eddie does it for him.

It’s gentle, soft, the opposite of the slap that caused it.

“I’m gonna turn this on now,” Eddie taps the base of the plug, sending shockwaves through Steve’s nerves. “And you’re gonna get to have every setting. Or did you already do every setting?”

“No, sir,” Steve whispers, voice broken. “Just two.”

Eddie nods. “Then I think I’ll have to get two more out of you before we can stop.”

Steve whines. He’s already sore. His cock is trying to get hard again, and he can feel every shift of the plug inside him. He doesn’t even think he could have two more orgasms if Eddie turned the vibrator on the highest setting.

He thinks he might pass out.

“Color?” Eddie asks.

It doesn’t quite break the moment, but it does make Steve focus on his face.

He looks concerned, but he also looks like he’s in awe. He always kind of looks at Steve like that, like he’s amazing him just by existing, just by the noises he makes and the curve of his body.

“Green.”

Eddie kisses the corner of his mouth before he slaps his other cheek.

Steve groans and turns his face away reflexively, but Eddie grabs his jaw and makes him turn to look up at him.

“I wanna see those cheeks get red, baby. Makes your eyes so bright when you cry,” Eddie slaps him again, but Steve’s starting to feel numb. “Just like that. You know why I wanted you to wait for me?”

Steve shook his head.

“Because I know how to make everything good for you. You didn’t even tease yourself a little, did you?” Eddie clicks his tongue against his teeth. “How am I supposed to knock you up if you try to do everything yourself?”

Steve’s cock pulses between them.

“Please. Please, sir.”

“Please, please sir,” Eddie mocks him, leaning down to grip his jaw tight. “Please what?”

“Please fuck me,” Steve tries to say with his mouth forced open.

“Oh, I’m gonna. But what else?” Eddie moves his hand down to Steve’s throat, resting there as a threat, the kind that makes Steve’s eyes roll back in his head. “What did you beg me to do to you on the phone the other night?”

“Wanna be full of you,” Steve continues, trying to focus on what Eddie’s asking.

“Yeah, gonna fill you up so good. Gotta make sure it takes, right?”

Steve nods. “Wanna have your baby.”

Eddie grins down at him as he turns the vibrator on.

He bumps it up to two immediately and Steve thinks this is a different two than the one he had on before he fell asleep. It’s sharp and too much immediately, making him squirm under Eddie’s weight. But Eddie doesn’t allow it, which just adds to the jolts of electricity going through his body.

“I’ll give you one, sweetheart. But first, you gotta be my good boy.”

Steve can do that. He can do whatever Eddie needs him to.

Eddie bumps the setting up again and it’s almost unbearable. How does anyone handle the highest setting?

Oh. Oh. It’s warm.

It feels like…

“Gonna come,” Steve warns. “Feels too good.”

“Then come, baby.”

Steve nearly screams through his orgasm and Eddie doesn’t try to quiet him. He laughs as Steve shivers from aftershocks.

He turns it up again and Steve may black out for a second. He squeezes his eyes shut and grits his teeth together and his dick stays hard.

“Too much, too much.”

“It wouldn’t be if you hadn’t started without me.”

It’s probably true, but Steve’s already feeling pretty far gone.

“One more, baby boy. Think you can give me another one?”

Steve nods because he can, he knows he can. He wasn’t sure before, but Eddie’s tone makes him believe he’s capable of anything.

If Eddie tells him to come, he will. If Eddie tells him to suck him while he fucks his mouth, he’ll happily do it.

“Look at you, so sweet. You’re so beautiful when you let me take care of you. Can’t believe you thought you could do this all for yourself,” Eddie wraps his hand around Steve’s cock, barely moving it. Steve curls up and towards Eddie with the touch, whimpering at the firey pleasure piercing his stomach. “You’re mine, Stevie. My hands are the only ones who can make you feel this good, my mouth, my cock, my toy.”

Steve’s chest is heaving as Eddie turns the vibrator up to the highest setting.

Words aren’t happening anymore.

Steve thinks he comes, but he can’t be sure.

He’s tingly and weightless, and he thinks if Eddie gets off of him, he’ll fly away.

The plug is gone and Steve whines at the loss. He tries to shove his own fingers inside himself, wants to keep feeling full, but Eddie slaps his wrist.

“That’s mine. Hands up.”

Steve listens because he decided being good is probably better for getting what he wants. Plus, Eddie’s fingers are inside him, four of them he thinks. It burns a little, but it’s not something Steve can complain about past the noises he’s making.

He wouldn’t anyways, not when he knows what he’s getting next.

Eddie slaps his cock.

Maybe he didn’t know what he was getting. He yelps, his eyes shoot open, and he stares at Eddie in shock.

He’s still hard, but it hurts.

“Color?” Eddie asks again, because this is new, and he always asks when he does something new. Even if they’ve talked about it, even if Steve assured him he would say red if he didn’t like it.

The pain was already gone, replaced with an overwhelming need to come. Eddie’s fingers were pressing against his prostate, making him forget about the slap entirely.

“Green, sir, again.”

“Good boy,” Eddie grins as he slaps his cock again, harder. “You like being slapped around? Like when I make you red all over? Look at your dick, baby.”

Steve does. It’s an angry red, almost purple, and he still has cum leaking from the tip. It twitches against his stomach when Eddie grabs it and rubs his thumb across the soaked slit.

Steve is panting, sure that there’s no way he could handle more.

“Gonna give you what you want now.”

Eddie’s cock is pretty average in length, but it’s thick, and he got it pierced a while back. It drives Steve absolutely crazy.

But four fingers stretched him out enough that Eddie’s cock entering him is just a dull ache.

“There you go, baby. That feel good? You feel full now?” Eddie asks as he lets more of his weight fall on top of Steve. Steve is by far the heavier of the two, but he loves when Eddie surrounds him like this.

But he doesn’t feel full yet. He shakes his head.

“No? What else do you need?” Eddie knows exactly what he needs, and he knows Steve is so far gone that talking is damn near impossible at this point. “You need to suck something? My fingers maybe?”

Steve shakes his head. Maybe next time.

“Need your cum.”

Eddie groans as he starts fucking into Steve faster, making the bedframe hit the wall behind them. They really need to look into getting something to dull the noise. They’ll never be able to do anything when they have guests over at this rate.

“That’s all you need, sweet boy? Just need me to fill you up, put the plug in, make sure nothing leaks out so you can give me a baby?” Eddie is breathless now, stomach and arms tense as he holds himself at the perfect angle to hit the oversensitive bundle of nerves inside Steve.

“Mhm, gonna-” Steve moans. “Gonna give you a baby. All the babies. Ten babies.”

Steve feels Eddie’s warm breath against his neck.

“Ten’s a lot, sweetheart,” he laughs against his neck before placing a gentle kiss over his moles. “You gonna come for me again?”

Steve nods, but he isn’t sure he can. He can barely even feel his cock anymore, so he’s not sure he’s got anything left in the tank.

Eddie moans against his jaw, hips stuttering to a much slower rhythm as he comes. Steve feels the warmth inside him, can already feel it dripping out. He whines at the loss.

“I know, baby,” Eddie wipes at a stray tear as he pulls back, but not out. “Come for me. Let me feel you.”

Steve thinks he comes. He’s pretty sure he passes out, too.

When his eyes open again, Eddie’s holding him, playing with his hair and humming softly. He’s still sweaty, but he doesn’t have any cum dried on him. The plug is snug inside him, holding as much of Eddie inside as possible.

“With me, Stevie?” Eddie whispers. It’s the quietest moment they’ve shared since he woke up to Eddie in bed with him.

“Kinda.”

Eddie’s hand brushes up and down his back, fingers poking gently into his spine.

“Can’t believe you didn’t wait for me.”

“Was nervous,” Steve yawns.

“Is it okay?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods against his chest. “Really okay.”

“You’re gonna be sore later.”

“‘S okay. Feel full.”

“We gonna talk about the ten babies thing?” Eddie asks, not judging, never judging, just curious.

“Gonna give you ten babies. ‘S what I said,” Steve is too tired to stay awake.

“Might be difficult with our current anatomy, but we can give it an honest try,” Eddie is laughing softly as he talks.

“Try again later,” Steve barely mumbles out before he drifts back to sleep.

[k2ntoss]

this is from @millyhelp 's ask from the prompts thingy so babe, i hope you enjoy this!!! PLUS THIS IS QUALITY OVER ANYTHING ELSE, i should be asleep by now bc i have to take a flight tomorrow at 6am buuuuut here we are :3

milly when i catch you milly (i have been thinking about THIS since i read your request and i'm literally vibrating here in a level i cannot describe) i just i don't know what i'm doing but i hope you know i'm here sitting while thinking about jason AT WORK

when they murmur pure filth into your ear while they're touching you + smirking into a kiss/against your skin when you whimper at their touch + "you're in no position to tease baby, remember that."

jason can say he hates attending bruce's galas, they're boring and full of people he dislikes but having you as his partner makes it worth the time he spends there. the way he's able to admire you in those pretty long night dresses, your make up and hair done in a way you'd only look prettier to his eyes, it was definetely his favorite part of being out in a night he rather spend at home cuddling with you.

but what jason hates more of bruce's galas is the fact that he isn't able to be too touchy with you when you're by his side and yeah, he also hates the way you take advantage of that because such a loving girlfriend would enjoy the art of torture by teasing him all night long. he stares as you stand right next to him, your hand holding his arm as he speaks to someone and you stroke his forearm without paying much mind to anything else, jason feels your touch a bit more than what he should and it only drives him insane when it comes together with the way you stare up at him as he speaks, if only he could push you to your knees and get you to look up at him while you gag around his cock...

"sweetheart, i'm gonna go get a drink, i'll be right back" you say with a small smile, your hand suddenly bringing him back from his thoughts when you subtly graze his chest with your fingertips, making a soft trail to his stomach and he only nods, his lips parted and his mind running wild once again.

you make your way to the expensive bar, thinking about any tasty drink that will help you feel more comfortable around all the rich and empty individuals around the room so as soon as you're able to ask for a drink the bartender gives you what could have been seen as a gentle smile but truth be told, jason knew better and yeah, he was looking from where you left him because there's no way he'd let his girlfriend all alone and unprotected.

he's able to see the man hand you a glass filled with clear liquor and he holds himself to interrupt you or to make you uncomfortable, he knows you don't try to make any deep conversation with that guy but he, on the other hand leans against the bar and talks to you with a wide grin almost as if he thought he made a great and succesful attempt on getting your attention and that's enough to make him smirk proudly, jason knows he's the only one that knows how to get your attention in a way you do enjoy it.

what's unexpected for him comes right after you notice his eyes on your back and look at him from over your shoulder, giving him a soft smile before turning back to actually chuckle to something that guy was telling you and now, that's weird because he swears that right before you looked back at him you seemed to be really bored about anything you were hearing. jason is able to see, still from across the room how you sit on one of those high stools, the slit of your dress letting your thigh a little more exposed than before and the way you lean forward allows you to be a bit closer to a man that wasn't him.

he has no idea where he should look, your waist seems to call him just so he can place his hand over it and squeeze it in a possessive way, your legs look lile he could make them wrap around his hips as he pounds into you and he has no idea what's gotten into him, it's a mix of jealousy because someone else has your attention and the way your body looks so good it makes jason want to devour you whole.

his need grows worse when you switch from the short vodka and sprite glass to a tall one with whisky and the way you mindlessly stroke the side of it with your fingertips has him almost growling and he decides it's been already enough when the bartender reaches to the pocket of his black blazer and slides his phone over the bar, clearly jason doesn't know that you're just about to type in the phone number of one of your friends that needed a bartender for the new bar he wanted to open and he clearly wasn't even thinking about it, instead he just allowed himself to walk his way until he reached your side, leaning in and pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder when he stood next to you "thought you were going to come back, princess" he says and there's a ever so slight tint of jealousy on his words.

"oh yeah, i got a little distracted here" you start before taking a short sip from your glass just to offer him an innocent smile "do you remember that bar a friend of mine wanted to open? i was telling him they wanted a bartender and i was about to give him leo's number" and he nodded, the bartender suddenly not looking so flirty with you when your big ass boyfriend was looking at him as if he was about to rip his head off his shoulders.

"yeah? think i have his card so no need to bother," jason tells you, his hand going into his pocket to reach for the nice wallet he used to keep cards and some other important stuff, taking out what he wanted and sliding the card across the bar "here. give them a call but i think they already found someone." he says with a subtle scowl before looking back at you. and as soon as his eyes met yours realization fell upon your boyfriend, that glint of pure mischief and joyful mockery was all he needed to know that this was just another part of your tease game.

"think we can talk somewhere else, baby?" he asks as he leans in to whisper into your ear "don't you think i don't know what you're doing, love." then jason mutters before leaving a soft kiss on your temple as his hand snakes over your side to hold your waist and pull you out of the stool just to walk you out of the room filled with people. it was a short walk across a few hallways before he opened a door that led to a bathroom, the marble counter and the tall roof another proof of how expensive the place was but you had not so much time to actually take in every other detail of the nice bathroom because you felt now both of jason's hands holding your hips and walking you until you were in front of the mirror.

"jay? what's that you need to tell me?" you ask him in a soft tone, sounding innocent as your boyfriend towered over you, his hands now resting on your hips as he looked at you through your reflection.

"how do you manage to look so heavenly, ma?" he sounds really sweet, unbothered as if your efforts weren't enough to make him act feral and that was strange to say the least "this is a good thing about this stupid events, being able to admire my girl looking so good." and still there's still a slight tint of possessiveness slipping into his words

"i don't know what you're talking about, baby" you'd answer, cheeks red and a sweet giggle escaping your lips as your own hands rest over his and anyone could see and say that this was just another wholesome moment between a young couple in love but jason had other plans in mind "but i think we're missing the whole thing"

your word fall on deaf ears when his hands start to stroke your hips, the silky and thin fabric allows jason to feel your bare skin right under your dress and it draws a deep hum out of his throat at the same time he leans to kiss that spot between your shoulder and neck "you know what i don't like about this galas? the fact that every other idiot is able to see my girl looking so damn good and what's worse, is that some of them think they have a chance with you."

his hands lower until you feel how the fabric slides upwards, causing you to shiver when jason's fingers caress your thigh under the slit of the dress while he keeps his gaze on yours through the mirror. he loves the way you look with him, how your body reacts to his every touch and yeah, anyone could say that jason todd is a bit possessive but you wouldn't blame him. the possessiveness on his touch came alomg with pure need, not only lust or dominance but with extreme adoration because you were the most precious thing on his life and he wasn't up to let go of you. not now, not ever.

"i don't know what you're talking about..." this time there's a small grin pulling at the edges of your lips, you do know what he's talking about and honestly, you adore when he wants to claim your attention from himself "but i was having a nice time chatting with my new friend" that part sets off a new jolt of jealousy and also it breaks the already thin string of patience jason has when it comes to your teasing.

"a nice time... were you? i think that you know exactly what i'm talking about, angel," jason utters right as his lips brush against the skin of your neck, he presses a lingering and firm kiss before his hand squeezes your thigh "all that mischief in your pretty eyes, the way you walk making your dress move in a way it only hugs your curves, do you think i can't see it?"

the way his voice grows deeper indicates what he has in mind and that's what you've been trying to get by touching him and putting a subtle show just for your boyfriend to grow insane with need. his gaze parts from your eyes to follow the path his own hands make as he starts to pull up the fabric of your dress, lips making a trail of short kisses that make you close your eyes and let your head drop to give him more room.

"you love attention, that much i can tell," he murmurs into your ear and as soon as he sees how you try to reach for him he shakes his head "no. hands on the counter and keep them there, be a good girl and do as you're told." he says, the comand on his tone sets you in automatic, pressing your hands against the black marble and seeing you being so obedient makes jason grin wickedly.

he had you right where he wanted you.

there's a low and rumbling chuckle that escapes him as soon as he is able to touch your bare hip, feeling proud of the fact that he knew you wouldn't be wearing any underwear with the silky dress that you were using. he loves that, being able to slide his hands under your clothes to touch you and feel you shiver before you start to grind against his fingers without a second thought. the feeling of knowing how much you wanted him and how good he was able to make you feel, it was only him that could do so.

"what a pretty surprise," jason says, one of his hands holding part of your dress up over your waist as the other one went to grip at your ass before letting a harsh slap fall over it that drags a soft yelp out of you "aren't you such a good girl? wearing anything underneath your dress to allow me to have easy access to this pretty pussy of yours" he says in a deep tone as his hand moves again, this time running over your inner thigh to squeeze it.

"jay... anyone could come in..." your words are soft, almost a whisper as jason's hand makes its way a bit further until he's able to graze your clit with his fingertips, making you press your lips in a fine line to hold back the soft moan that forms on your throat as you try to wiggle your hips to get a little more of his touch.

"no one is gonna come in, ma" he whispers into your ear, his arm now around your waist to hold the fabric in place as well as to prevent you from moving "now be a good little doll and spread your legs for me." jason says right before he bites your earlobe softly.

and you do as he says, allowing him to slip his fingers over your cunt in a slow and torturing pace, you can feel the rough skin and the way he seems to know exactly how to touch you to get you wet without doing so much. he keeps that touch, fingers teasingly tapping on your slit before he playfully spreads your lips as he kisses your shoulder with a shit eating smirk whenever you whimper and try to buck your hips to get him to touch you more.

"you don't like it when i tease you like this, baby? you seemed to be having so much fun when you were doing the same to me," he almost grunts as his hand pulls away from you, the pout on your lips and how you seem to wanna cry makes him laugh "you had no trouble to look up at me with those pretty 'fuck me' eyes you use when you're choking on my cock like a little whore."

he needs no other thing really to make you moan, jason knows what to do to get you going and he loves to start by teasing you. leaning in to whisper his every word to your ears and calling you all sort of names, his hands holding your body as he presses himself against your ass, letting you feel his hard cock though the fabric of his dressing pants.

"i wasn't doing that!" you protest, lying to him right to his face just to get what you wanted. pushing his buttons and jason would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying this little game.

"oh weren't you now? you know damn well you were teasing me, since we arrived you can't stop swaying your pretty ass to make me drag you away just so i can pin you down to fuck you." he says, the same low tone as he talks and his hand moves, going up and hovering over your chest and throat until he reaches your face to hold your cheeks briefly, then letting go to slip his thumb between your lips "such a needy little thing, begging to be used without an ounce of shame like the slut she is"

a muffled moan escapes you, eyes closed shut when jason pushes his digit against your tongue and moves it back and forth as you suck it obediently but he stops and pulls away when he feels you rock your hips against him, your ass rubbing his bulge and making him groan right about to give up the small punishment just to bury himself deep inside you.

"stop moving. you're in no position to tease baby, remember that." jason says, this time his voice sounds a little more stern and his gaze is fixed back on yours "you want it so bad, don't you? want me to use you right here like a little toy for me to abuse whenever and wherever i want."

his hand goes back to your thighs, this time he holds one and squeezes it in a motion that made you lift your leg, allowing jason to make you bend it and hold yourself with your knee pressed to the counter. keeping you spread like that for him he lets a playful pat fall right between your legs, causing you to whimper in need, wanting to grind on his dick until he couldn't resist the urge to actually fuck your needy hole.

"c'mon... i really need you, jay" you moan as soon as his fingers stroke again your cunt, slipping between your folds he smirks when your slick covers his digits creating soft wet sounds as he traces circles on your clit before doing the same around your entrance "need you to fuck me, please, ruin me."

"don't think you deserve so, baby," he coos you mockingly, his middle finger pushing teasingly against you but not sliding in to allow to feel him into you "why don't you pull your dress down, mhm? let me see those pretty tits of yours, put on a show for me."

it makes you shiver, the idea of exposing yourself for him as he's practically punishing you is something new because jason has never asked you to do so while keeping your clothes on, lets not say in a public space but it was a turn on when he looked down at you with predatory eyes as you spilled your breasts out of your dress, the thin straps now hanging loose on your arms as he pressed his chest to your back and made a thrusting motion against your ass.

"the things you'd do for me to stretch your pussy, to be fucked dumb until you are nothing but a cock-drunk slut" he growls against your ear and the whiny moan you let out makes him grin widely as he kisses and nibbles at the nape of your neck "here, hold your dress for me, sweetheart"

and he nods when your hands hold now your dress, his hands guiding you to make you bend slightly. jason looks hungrily at your exposed body, the way you look so vulnerable when he took advantage of it made it so hard to resist his urges but he knew that as soon as you both arrived home he'd be able to fuck you into a mindless puddle.

"you adore doing this, don't ya, ma?" he asks, one of his hands slides down your back. caressing your spine and to your ass until he reaches your core, a sharp slap falls right there and the whine you let out only fuels jason "teasing me just so you can get attention, you love to get me jealous just for me to end up letting you know how i'm the only one that will make you feel so good"

his fingers are stroking you again but this time he isn't as delicate or slow as before, his hand grinds against your cunt and he pinches your clit a few times to make you moan even louder. the wet sounds his palm makes while he plays with your slick are only hushed by your whimpers, his other hand now groping your breasts.

"it's adorable how you try to get me to use you just to be edged, to be teased like every dirty slut deserves" jason growls behind your ear and this time he pushes two fingers inside you, moving them at a fast pace without really paying mind to the way your legs tremble because he is also teasing your nipples "all of this effort just to get your pussy played with, not even getting to feel my cock inside your greedy cunt."

"jay please... don't do this to me" you cry, the torture continues because jason touches your sweet spot a few times by curling his fingers but stops when you clench around him, trying to move and fuck yourself with his fingers but the gaze he gives you is enough to stop it.

"i'm sorry, princess, that's all you'll get now" jason whispers, a satisfied smirk and a kiss on your temple as he takes his fingers out of you before stepping back "you should fix your dress again, baby, you can't go out with it all pulled up."

that's what you got, jason is now looking at your reflex as he leans back against a wall and he licks his fingers clean before giving you a lovely smile.

maybe, just maybe, you were in no position to tease after all.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #61 Part 4

Danny woke up to a stream of sunlight on his face. The room was just as rich as he remembered, he stood up and stretched a bit before he heard a knock at the door.

It was Alfred bringing him a change of clothes, “Breakfast is ready, Master Danny. You can find the dining room down the hall to the left.” the old butler smiled at him. 

“You don’t have to call me Master, Alfred, I’m not your Damian.” Danny said, turning around to address him.

“Ah, yes, however you are still Master Bruce’s son, even from another world.” The butler gave him a cheeky smile.

Danny shrugged and headed to the bathroom to get changed. Once he was decent again, he headed down to the dining room. 

The room was just as fancy as the rest of the house with a chandelier and ornate vases. 

Danny noticed Damian and a few others already seated at the table. Damian wore what Danny could only assume was his rich kid school uniform. He sat across from Damian who made a small ‘Tt’ and turned away from him. 

Next to Damian was Tim who put away his laptop once Danny sat down. Tim was wearing a business suit, a dark red colored one. “Ah, you sleep much longer than Damian does, you must have been tired.” Tim smiled at him.

Also seated at the table and wearing a navy blue suit, was Bruce himself. He was drinking coffee and reading a newspaper.

“Stop comparing me to him, Drake, I’m nothing like this imposter.” Looks like Damian still thought he was a clone. 

Whatever, he shrugged it off and filled his plate. 

“I don’t really have a lot of free time,” was all Danny said before he started eating.

Tim kind of watched him for a minute, he looked kind of shocked for a second, “You’re eating meat??” 

Ah so that was another difference between them, “again, I’m Danny, I’m not Damian.”

Damian scoffed, “So that’s what you call yourself, imposter.”

Danny gave Damian a tired sigh, looks like the him of this universe was a lot more prideful than he was. Danny went through way too much to carry the same, dying and being crown prince of the infinite realms wasn’t exactly something he was born into. Danny was a bit jealous if he was being honest with himself. 

“Damian, please at least attempt to be friendly. Danny is our guest for the meantime.” Bruce said, putting his newspaper down. He then turned his attention to Danny, “I know it isn’t ideal but I think it’ll be best for you to stay here until we can get you to your own world. I’m planning a trip to the Watchtower tomorrow so I can speak with some of my colleagues about the situation.” 

Danny sighed but nodded his head, “I get it, you can’t have two of us running around.”

“Quite, you’re more than welcome to go around the mansion and the grounds, I’d also like to invite you along to the Watchtower but we’d need to come up with a disguise for you, secret identity and everything.” Bruce continued after taking another sip from his mug, “Alfred will still take you out today to get some basic necessities for you. We’ll get you a proper disguise so you're able to go with him.”

Danny nodded again and continued eating. He thought things over as he ate, he technically had a disguise they could use for the Watchtower but Danny was still on the fence on what exactly he’d tell everyone here.

It wasn’t exactly an easy conversation to have, thankfully some more people arrived for breakfast.

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[miss-cincaide]

Explain Yourself, Woman

Summary: It’s time to set up the Halloween decorations, and you’re excited about it. You’ve even agreed to let Yuji’s odd cousin, who’s just exited prison, help out. You could never phantom that Ryoumen Sukuna had no clue what Halloween was or why you’d put cobwebs in the ceiling. 

Pairing: Fem! reader x Yuji Itadori; Fem! Reader x (ex-con) Sukuna Kinktober prompt 9: Non-con WC: 4.6K Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! Non-con/dub-con, quickie, unprotected P in V, fingering, cursing, alcohol,

“I promise and swear on my life he will behave, please so pretty pretty, please? I am ready to do whatever!!” 

You couldn’t see much of the pink-haired boy, except the back of his head with the newly trimmed black undercut and even fluffier pink hair, as he sat on his hands and knees in front of you, head pressed to his hands, forehead to the pavement in the most pitiful and submissive dogeza you had seen in your entire life. His whole body was in the middle of the street, with your shopping bags on either side of him, effectively blocking anyone from walking by you two in your residential area. 

A cyclist passed by, repeatedly pinging his bell to get Yuji to move from the middle of the street. When Yuji didn’t, the cyclist drove out onto the main road at the last minute, flipping both of you off as he passed you by.  

You felt your face flush slightly underneath your hands. The embarrassment of your best friend’s dogeza in the middle of a public street only amplified your overall embarrassment associated with that idiot. Your only salvation was that Yuji remembered his cousin when you were almost home and not in the middle of the packed shopping district. 

Then, you were sure you would have died of embarrassment. 

“Please?-” his voice grew louder, his tone more desperate, and if he could bury himself beneath the pavement to you, he most certainly would have. 

 You hated the emotion that stirred in the pit of your stomach. The gnawing, burning feeling that hated seeing Yuji beg for anything, especially in front of you. The side that wanted to give him whatever so he could return to his usual bright and bubbly self. “Well ye– I don’t know, Yuji” You caught yourself at the last minute before you could promise the world to your best friend and lover. “He’s.. you know, kinda scary.” 

“I swear and promise Sukuna’ll be on his best behaviour,” he reassured you in a heartbeat.”You’re the only one, YN, who isn’t completely terrified of him or judges him for his mistakes. C’mon, this is his first Halloween out, and he is entirely alone? Pretty please with a cherry on top?” 

Being alone on Halloween wasn’t a big deal unless you were an Itadori, which is worse than missing Christmas and Birthday combined. It was the celebration, the day to be with your friends and come up with mischief. The one day a year, you all were just goofy, carefree friends before life caught up to you. 

The guilt tripping worked. 

Groaning, you dropped your hands away from your face with a whiny “fiiine,” followed by a more serious, “You owe me big time, bud.”   

“You’re the best!” Yuji scrambled to his feet in seconds, and bags gathered back into his hands. A beat of awkwardness was between you, an almost embarrassed silence which Yuji instantly broke with, “Last one to your door is the rotten egg making bento for tomorrow?”

You laughed, the tension disappearing. “ I want those awesome onigiri you make with the soft-boiled egg in the middle!” You declared only for Yuji to remind you that you hadn’t won yet. 

But you may have. Your house was four blocks away, but yesterday, you found a lovely shortcut through a newly torn-down house that was just an empty, debris-filled lot, effectively cutting your getting home time in half. Even if Yuji were faster, he’d not anticipate you to take off down another route. So you’d win by taking him by surprise! So, You felt like you had this in your pocket as both of you got ready to sprint, just waiting for him to start you guys off.  

“Also, Sukuna-will-be-here-tomorrow-to-help-set-everything-up!” And then Yuji took off running as if hell hounds were after him as you stood stunned, processing his words. 

“Hey! That’s not what we agreed on!” You called after him, beginning to jog at a much slower pace, all forgotten about the shortcut, egg-filled onigiri or anything besides the fact that Sukuna would be on your doorstep tomorrow. 

“Cheater!” You yelled after him into the empty street. Earning yourself a stink eye from the nosy neighbourhood watch lady, who was peeking up at you over the hedge of her fence. You gave her a wave before your jog turned into a slow walk after Yuji. He better not think you would make tonight's dinner and tomorrow's lunch after the stunt he pulled. 

You mercilessly roped Yuji into making dinner that night, bento for the following day, and breakfast. He promised to do the week's shopping for you and be at your place the following morning. 

However, at 10:30, there was still no sign of Yuji, who had promised breakfast or shopping. But there was a roar of a motorbike that disturbed your otherwise calm suburban neighbourhood area. The motorbike drew nearer and nearer, tearing you from your monotone ranting about Yuji to no one but yourself and the cobwebs you hung up. You stood atop a ladder in the hallway, slinging the fake tangly web from the room's corners to the hallway lamp in thick white ropes to which you’d tie giant spiders and tiny ghosts. 

Another roar from the bike, as if announcing his arrival, before it stopped and grew silent outside your house- a relatively flat brick building three stories in height that held four apartment units on each floor. Something told you that noisy horror, the owner, was there for you. 

Carefully, you climbed down the ladder. Your feet made contact with your hallway floor just as heavy pounding sounded on your front door. A pause, a literal half minute before the pounding repeated with such violence, you wondered how the entire thing didn’t fly off its hinges and hit you in the face. 

 “I’m coming”, You called as the door shook and the person on the other side kicked it. A second later, you unlocked it, coming face to face with Yuji’s lookalike. The resemblance was uncanny- the same pink hair with the black undercut, the same face shape and build and even similar clothes. Hell, you swore he smelled the same way Yuji did. The glaring difference, however, was the blank tattoos that littered the man’s face and neck and snaked under his casual clothes. “Y-yuji?”

“ Gahh, You think I’m that brat?” 

Not Yuji, you concluded, as the man brushed past you into your apartment without even being welcomed in. You glared slightly as he didn’t kick his shoes off but rather strolled right in over your rugs and towards the living room, where he flopped down on the couch beside the boxes of Halloween decorations, one arm over the backseat. At the same time, the second one rested in his lap, tapping away as if expecting to be served. 

“Get me a drink” 

Your eye twitched in annoyance at the order as you headed into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a pitcher of water and a glass, which you slammed into the table in front of your unwelcome guest. “Serve yourself, or wait until Yuji shows up. I am not your servant.” 

Sukuna raised an eyebrow before he threw his head back and laughed. An unkind sound that made the hairs stand on the back of your neck. Rather than show your fear, you moved towards the bags of decorations you and Yuji had gotten the day prior and pulled out another bag of thick white cobwebs with tiny plastic spiders. You ripped the bag open, sending stapes that held the plastic bag together with the paper tag everywhere, with one landing into Sukuna’s lap. 

He stopped laughing, and you thought the ex-con was going to kill. “Yuji was right; you have guts. I respect that, woman.” You guessed ‘woman’ was a step above ‘brat’, but you weren’t wholly confident and were not about to ask him either.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw him reach over and pour himself a glass from the pitcher before downing the entire thing in one go. There wasn’t a ‘thank you’ in sight as he placed the glass back on the table. Then he reached over to the bag of trick-or-treat candy prepared for the Trick-or-Treating neighbouring kids forgotten on the table and pulled out a Snickers bar. Without asking, he tore the wrapping open, broke off a piece and ate it. He made a face, but to your surprise, he did not comment on the treat. “What’re you doing, woman?” 

You looked up from untangling the last spider before stretching out the cobwebs. “Decorating”, You answered flatly, going over to the ladder and climbing the wobbly thing towards the ceiling. You didn’t look at Sukuna as you perched on the top step's edge and put the cobwebs' first edge on the pre-prepared hook. You shifted, too lazy to climb down and move the step to reach the next hook until you practically balanced on your tip-toes, your entire body and the ladder shaking from the effort. When you missed the last hook for the third time, you huffed in annoyance and climbed down. 

“Give it here” You didn’t realise Sukuna had come up to the stairs until he was beside you. He took the remaining web from your hands and climbed confidently onto the ladder before he saddled the top stair, one leg on either side.* A second later, he angled his body and effectively walked the ladder between the cobwebs and remaining hooks, leaving you gaping like an idiot. Then, once the cobweb was hung, he beckoned with his hand. When you didn’t move, he glared at you with narrowed eyes. “Next one, woman.” 

The order snapped you out of your daze, and you rushed back to the living room to open the next bag of decorations. “Those go in the corner-” you pointed where you meant, only to receive a glare and a tsk in response as he already began hanging it up, not caring or even listening to the end of your sentence. You remained quiet after that, just passing him decoration after decoration, which he set up from the hallway to the living room, to the kitchen and the bedrooms before finally walking the stairs towards the bathroom, where he quickly took down your giraffe-themed shower curtain to replace it with a more theme-appropriate glow in the dark one with bloody handprints on.  

You quickly realised two things: Sukuna had a knack for decorating, finding ways to turn your spooky vision even more spooky than you imagined it, and second, he didn’t say much as he worked. He motioned with one hand for the next decoration and the other for the tool. It was then your job to figure out what he wanted unless you wanted to face his glare. Still, over the coming hour, you felt yourself inevitably relax. He had a sharp and rude mouth on and a mean look, but as Yuji said, he wasn’t inherently causing trouble either and not what you expected from someone who had spent his youth locked up behind bars for heinous crimes. Most certainly, you didn’t expect a violent ex-con to be in your apartment, hanging up paper cut-outs of pumpkins and ghosts.  

“Let’s take a break”, you offered from the doorway, raising a bottle of beer in silent offer for a drink. 

The sneer on Sukuna’s face made you almost drop the drink. 

You yelped loudly as he jumped from the ladder in one fleeting move before ripping the cold one out of your hands. “ Damn greedy woman, made me drink water when you had this” his scolding sounded more like a certain death if you ever served him water instead of beer. He downed the bottle in one go, then grabbed the second beer you had gotten for yourself before heading back to your couch, leaving you standing with just an empty bottle. 

“Seriously?!” you hissed to yourself, going to the kitchen and retrieving another before going where he was. You sat on the armchair opposite, your eyes on your phone as you typed out yet another message to Yuji, asking where he was. 

“So explain yourself, woman,” you looked up as Sukuna addressed you, then tilted your head to the side in slight confusion. He motioned towards the decoration, but when you still didn’t reply, he spoke with a sneer, “Why make it look like you haven’t cleaned in centuries?” 

“Because it’s gonna be a Halloween party,” You said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world,” Like our entire floor is going to be like a huge party, with different themes between each apartment.” 

When he didn’t give you any reaction, you changed the apps on your phone and opened up the pictures from the last Halloween before reaching it over and showing him. “So you see, the first apartments have a scary corridor, then in the third, there’s a huge nightclub, and here we’ll set up a drinks table and refreshments, and it’s gonna be sorta like a calm place to relax and chat–Hey!” You yelled out as Sukuna’s ice-cold hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged you into the couch beside himself with a single yank. His other arm was still wrapped around the back of the sofa; you could feel it against your neck as you hit your new seat. He didn’t heed you before bringing your phone closer to his face, flickering through the pictures. 

“So booze and bloody-murder screaming?” you nodded with a grin as he began to understand what you were getting at “ and slutty women?” 

You grimaced a little at the last description, but admittedly, you couldn’t deny the accusation. Most people who attended this four-apartment party were local unit guys and girls whose definition of modesty was non-existent. Admittedly, you weren’t much better after a few drinks. “Well…” you cut yourself off as Sukuna reached into one of the Halloween shopping bags that was half empty; the only thing remaining in that bag was a seductive cat costume that Yuji had practically drooled over when you tried it on the day prior. 

The sight of it made Sukuna burst out laughing. “ A giant pussy? How fitting.” He taunted as you reached for the costume with a bright blush. 

“Give it back!” you whined as Sukuna kept it just out of reach, one hand waving it above your head in a taunting display while the hand that had rested on the couch gripped your shoulder, preventing you from standing or launching after it. “Hey, it’s not fair!” 

Sukuna’s sadistic grin said, ‘Nothing’s fair’ as he waved the costume again in your face, then yanked it back at the last minute; “You want it back? Then you will tell me everything about this little party of yours, woman.” 

“Then ask like a normal person!” You cried and made another launch for the costume. You paused mid-way through as you heard the front door bust open, followed by the ruffling of plastic bags and pounding of feet. 

“Y/N, I'm so sorry I overslept, but I'm here now and-” Yujis cut himself, gasping for air, chopping out apologies in between breathing.

You glanced over at him. 

“ I’m still pissy with you.” You said simply before crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back against the couch. You tried to look disappointed or stern or at least annoyed at Yuji. 

Your boyfriend hung his head while slowly raising one of the heavier bags. “Brunch? And a mimosa to go with it?” The puppy dog eyes and the quivering lip won you over almost as much as the promised breakfast-turned-lunch and a drink to sweeten the deal. Your lips pulled up into a huge grin. 

“Get in the kitchen” Your tone was teasing, and Yuji responded with a salute, moving to pick up the bags again.

“Pfff, as if that brat knows how to cook anything,” Sukuna spoke up, momentarily pausing from flickering through the party pictures on your phone. 

You spun your head around to face Sukuna, a scowl on your lips. “As if you could do any better”, you huffed and saw his eyes narrow in a murderous warning glare. After being exposed to them all morning, it didn’t scare you as much anymore. So you just raised your chin, the challenge present. 

“Tsk, insolent woman, I’ll show you.” Sukuna pushed himself off the couch, throwing the costume back at you, and followed Yuji to the kitchen. A moment later, you heard Yuji’s loud voice, ‘Thanks, cousin,’ before he flew out of there as if hell’s fire was under his feet. 

Yuji made a bee-line straight for the couch, plopping down beside you. His arm reaches out and wraps around your shoulders, Coxing you away from studying your costume. “Hey,” his tone was playful, loving, as his other hand brushed some flyaway hairs off your face. 

“Hey yourself”, you returned the favour, brushing your hand through his hair, feeling the lingering waxy-sticky texture on your fingertips. “Should I be worried? You know, about my kitchen and your cousin?” 

“ Neah” Yuji brushed the tip of his nose against yours, his lips up in a slight smirk. “Thanks for getting me out of kitchen duty, by the way.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, shoving him playfully away seconds before he could kiss you. “I didn’t ‘get you out of anything’, Sukuna volunteered.” 

“Sure he did” Yuji tried to close the distance again, only to have his lips meet the plastic packaging of your costume. “Baby~” 

“ Nope, still pissy with you. So no kisses for now,” your tone of voice dropped to a whisper, “I don’t wanna snuggle with your cousin here.” 

“You care what he thinks?” Yuji sounded doubtful, and you merely rolled your eyes. 

“No, I care about keeping decent appearances. And I doubt I’d be able to stop now, with just a kiss” You give Yuji a wink, seeing his face flush a crimson red, then duck out of the way as he dived towards you to get that kiss and a little more. “Now, c’mon, the faster we get started, the faster we’re done with party-prep.” 

Yuji whined, a pout on his face the entire time you kept setting up the last of the so-called calm corner, which would be your apartment for the upcoming party. He hadn’t stopped pouting by the time Sukuna was done with brunch, and the three of you sat down, something the older cousin remarked on. 

“The fuck’s gotten his panties in a twist?” Sukuna asked as Yuji looked like a dark cloud loomed over him, poking at his breakfast sausage with half-hearted enthusiasm. 

“Just leave him be.” You replied sharply, tense at the fact that Yuji had to be so bloody and childish and make a huge deal that you set some no-kissing boundaries in the presence of guests in your home. 

But you figured he would cheer up once the last of the party prep was finished, and you two got some alone in your bedroom. Even if Sukuna was going to crash on your couch- because you would be damned three times over before you let the ex-con land back in prison for drunk driving or crashing on his roaring horror on the way home. No, you would pretend it was just You and Yuji and forget all about the ex-con on your couch, separated only by a heavy oak door. And you’d make it up to your sulking boyfriend with a ton of kisses, you were certain of it. 

When it was finally bedtime, Yuji surprised you by showering, changing into his usual t-shirt and boxers combo and jumping into bed. However instead of laying on his back, legs spread waiting for you to crawl to him, he rolled over to his side, away from you, so he faced the bedroom door instead of you. You frowned but made an attempt to crawled closer in your silky, half sheer nightgown and specially picked skimpy panties, no bra, a sultry pouty look on your face. 

“Baby”, You purred, reaching out a hand to trace down his bicep. Yuji shook your touch off. You reeled back, hurt and confused by his reaction. “Yuji?”  

“You didn’t wanna kiss me,” Yuji stated. 

You gaped and sat down in the middle of your bed; your jaw dropped as you gathered your thoughts and the unmistakable implications of his words. Then your expression darkened. “Are you seriously punishing me for not wanting to kiss you in front of your cousin?”

Yuji shrugged in response. 

You sat in bed for a moment, the sting of rejection hurting worse than you expected. Here, you were prepared to make it up to him for no kisses all afternoon, and he acted like he didn’t care. He just sulked in bed like an immature child. 

Fine then. You got off the bed and waited a second to see if he would change his mind and pull you back into it. But Yuji didn’t move, so you threw on your silky bathrobe over yourself, tying it firmly into place. “You wanna sulk? Then sulk. I’m going downstairs to get some cooking prep done for tomorrow. You know where to find me if you want to get some!” You stomped to the door, paused and gave him another chance to stop this childish charade of pushing you away because of something so small.

But Yuji didn’t move, and you stepped out of your bedroom door and slammed the door behind you. 

You cursed when you remembered Sukuna was sleeping on the couch. But you didn’t hear him stir and walked briskly in the darkness to the kitchen. You didn’t want to wake Sukuna by turning on the light- the last thing you wanted to do was deal with his condescending glare and bossy ‘woman this- woman that’. No, you went straight to the sink to pour yourself a cup of water, your body practically shaking with rage. 

A rage that only increased as you heard footsteps walk after you into the kitchen. They stopped quickly from you, and you didn’t turn around to face him. Nothing happened, and there was silence and darkness around you. Your frustration mounted, and you brought the glass to your lips, gulping down the water and then choking on it. 

A hand tapped your back a few times until the water got out of your lungs and then lingered there. “ Thanks, baby, you changed your mind for a little late-night fun? We should go upstairs- ah!” 

You gasped as he pushed you up against the sink. Two hands firmly gripping your waist, hard cock pressed against the curve of your ass. His chest against your back, applying just the right amount of weight to have you bent slightly forward, gripping the sink. 

“Y-yuji baby-” You gasped, grinding back against him. “W-We can’t! Y-your cousin is here; he’ll hear!” 

The only response you get is a shift of clothing, feel your bathrobe get hiked up, and his hard dick slide right over the barely there panties. “Mphfmm” Your hand flies up to your mouth, your teeth biting into your fingers to keep yourself from moaning. 

Fuck Yuji’s never been this rushed. Never straight to the act, bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you like a street whore,kinda-guy.  It’s always slow and sensual to make love. Fingering, eating out, lube. Sex with Yuji is always a several-hour slow ordeal. 

This was hot and hard; the hands-on your waist kept you bent, your arm against the sink the only way you braced yourself against the motion of his hips. But goddamn, that angle made your knees weak, the way his cock slid between your slick puffy folds, the tip bullying against your clit with every thrust.

“Mmmneah Y-Yuji, he’ll hear– ahhh god, I’m close” You bite your hand hard to silence the scream as he pushes his cock inside you. The hand dropped away from your waist and grabbed your leg, throwing it up on the counter. 

“Oh fuck!” You moan, even as both hands land on your mouth. But the new angle, the speed, the slap of his balls against your ass and his bullying cock leaves you weak. The moans slip through your fingers as you cum all over him,  your body shaking like a leaf.

“Ahh, oh god, mmm” you’re moaning and cooing. He kept thrusting, each movement growing more rapid, and you’re fucking crying at how good it feels. Intense and so fucking hot. You’re not bothering to hide your moans or gasps anymore, taking every single thrust until you think that final extra hard one, followed by hot spurs of cum filling your pussy and overflowing out, making a mess between your legs. 

“Fucking hell, Yuji”, You rasped out, your hand gripping the counter as he pulled out of you. You just sat there for a moment,  high on the rush and the pleasure. A painful slap on your ass startles you out of your thoughts, and you yelp, partially in pain and partially in surprise. That’s not something Yuji did; the feeling of wrongness set over you. But your mind doesn’t let you focus on that- instead, it reminds you of Sukuna sleeping on the couch a few paces away and the horrible never-fading embarrassment if he were to wake up, go to the kitchen and find you in the very porno-like position, with a leg thrown up on the counter and hot cum flowing right out of your newly fucked pussy.

You hurriedly threw your leg back down and re-tied the bathrobe over yourself. You took another clunk of the half-abandoned glass of water, then set it in the sink before you tiptoed out of the kitchen. On your way out, you threw a glance at Sukuna but saw him fast asleep on the couch, soft snores escaping him, arm over his ears, facing the back of the sofa. You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding and head to your bathroom. 

You did a quick cleanup, just enough to remove the worst mess between your legs. Then, you headed back to your bedroom. 

You saw that Yuji was up. His hands fidgeted nervously in his lap, and his gaze was firmly planted on his hands. He didn’t say anything as you stepped towards your side of the bed and slid under the warm covers of your bed. You laid on your side, yet even before you settled down, he was on you, his hands wrapped around your side, his face buried into the crook of your neck. 

“I’m so sorry, baby”, Yuji mumbled.. “It was stupid of me to push you away. I just. I didn’t expect you to get along so well with Sukuna, but I got. I'm a little jealous.” He rubbed your side slowly until the tension finally left your body, and you breathed a sigh of relief. 

“You’re forgiven, " you mumbled, pressing your body closer against his. “No, no baby, I was a total ass; let me make it up to you, show you how sorry I am” Yuji pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his fingers making their way between your legs. “Ohh baby, damn, you’re so sticky already, so wet, my little minx.. Oh hey, is that cum inside you?” 

His words make your blood run cold; your heart drops to your feet as you realise whose dick you had inside you moments earlier. 

Author note: Did I skip days a little bit? Yes I did, but I really wanted to know what you guys would think about this more story-based smut. That's the type of fics I'd wanna publish in the future, question is, is it the type of content you'd wanna read?

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All fics are unique works by © miss-cincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reworked/reposted/copied anywhere, please inform me!

[rootedinrevisions]

Kinktober 2024: Day 15

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know it's not technically the 15th yet. But I just finished writing this one and I'm really excited for you guys to read it. I also know I have a lot going on tomorrow so not sure when I'll have time to post it, so posting it a little early!

PROMPT: "Feel what you're doing to me? That's all because of you!"

KINK: Lingerie

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT (P in V)

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

TAG LIST: @missmarveledsblog I @shanimallina87 I @fore45fore

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

The late morning sun poured through the windows, casting a warm glow across the living room you and Bradley shared. You sat cross-legged on the floor, fingers carefully smoothing out the last corner of the wrapping paper around his coming home present—a gift you’d been planning for months.

The photo album sat snugly under the glossy paper, bound by a neat ribbon you tied with extra care. Inside were the boudoir photos you had taken just weeks after he’d left for deployment. It was something special, something intimate, to remind him how much you’d missed him. Each photo was a memory in itself—a way for you to stay close even when he was oceans away.

You pressed down the final piece of tape, running your hand over the gift with a satisfied sigh. The small album, resting in its elegant wrapping on the kitchen table, felt like a secret shared between just the two of you, a piece of you waiting for him to come home.

The clock ticked closer to the afternoon, and excitement bubbled in your chest. It had been six months, half a year since you'd last seen Bradley in person, and today was the day he was coming back. You grabbed your keys, heart racing in anticipation, ready to meet him at the base. You gave the present one last glance before heading out, the thought of his reaction swirling in your mind as you made your way out the door to bring him home.

* * * *

The air buzzed with excitement as you stood among the crowd at the base, your heart pounding in your chest. You watched as one by one, men and women began walking off the plane, their faces weary but lit with the relief of being home. Your eyes scanned each face, searching desperately for the one you’d been waiting for. The anticipation twisted inside you—until finally, there he was.

Bradley stepped off the plane, looking up just in time for your eyes to meet. That familiar smile spread across his face, and in that instant, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you. He dropped his duffel bag to the ground and took a few determined steps toward you. Without thinking, you broke into a run, closing the distance between you in seconds.

You launched yourself into his arms, wrapping yours tightly around his neck as he held you close, his arms enveloping you in that perfect, safe embrace. The world seemed to melt away as you both stood there, holding onto each other for what felt like minutes, neither of you wanting to let go. His warmth, his familiar scent—it was everything you’d missed.

Bradley pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, a soft smile playing on his lips before he leaned in and pressed them to yours. The kiss was slow, lingering, and filled with all the love and longing that had built up over the last six months. 

After several kisses and a few more tight hugs, he whispered, "I’m ready to go home."

But before you could move, he draped an arm protectively over your shoulders, keeping you close as the two of you made your way to his Bronco—the vehicle you had driven there, waiting to take him back to where he belonged.

* * * *

You and Bradley walked through the front door, the familiar comfort of home welcoming both of you as you closed it behind you. Bradley paused, noticing the carefully wrapped present sitting on the kitchen table. He glanced at you with raised eyebrows, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

“What’s this?” he asked, his voice laced with interest as he gestured toward the gift.

You smiled, leaning against the counter. "It’s a little coming-home present for you."

His curiosity deepened, and he gave you a playful look. "Can I open it now?"

You nodded, watching him as he moved over to the table, his large hands quickly but carefully tearing away the wrapping paper. When the paper fell away, he stood holding a sleek photo album, his eyes flicking back to you with even more curiosity.

"A photo album?" he asked, his lips tugging into a smirk.

"Just open it," you teased, crossing your arms and biting your lip in anticipation.

Bradley’s gaze shifted back to the album as he slowly opened it, revealing the first photo—a soft, almost innocent image of you wrapped in one of his Hawaiian shirts, buttoned up but still leaving a hint of bare skin peeking out. You watched as his expression softened, his fingers gently turning the page. As he flipped through each photo, his smirk grew.

His tongue ran along his bottom lip when he reached the next series of images—the ones where you had started to unbutton the shirt. You felt a warm flush rise in your cheeks as his eyes darkened with appreciation. By the time he reached the photos where the shirt was completely gone, revealing the pale blue lace teddy you had worn just for him, his breath caught.

The intersecting straps, the delicate lace, and the strategically placed cutouts accentuated your figure in all the right ways. Bradley took his time, flipping through those photos a little more slowly, savoring each one, his gaze lingering on the sight of you in his favorite color.

When he reached the final set of photos, where the teddy had come off and you were laid out on the bed with nothing but a sheet draped across your bare skin, his eyes widened slightly. He glanced up at you, his expression a mix of admiration and something more heated. You felt his eyes tracing every inch of you as if he could still see the images in his mind.

"Damn," Bradley breathed out, his voice low and husky as he looked back at the album, and then back at you. "You did all this…for me?"

You smiled softly, feeling your heart race at the way he was looking at you now. "Every bit of it."

Bradley set the album down and turned toward you, his strong hands finding your waist as he pulled you against him. His gaze was filled with adoration as he whispered, “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

His lips captured yours in a heated kiss, the intensity building quickly as his tongue slipped past your lips, deepening the connection. His hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you impossibly closer. 

But before the moment could escalate further, you stepped back. Bradley looked at you, confused, his brow furrowed slightly.

That’s when you tugged at the hem of your shirt, untucking it from your denim shorts. His confusion quickly faded, replaced by realization—and a growing anticipation. His eyes darkened with desire when he noticed the shirt you were wearing wasn’t yours. It was one of his Hawaiian shirts, the same one you had worn during the photoshoot. You began to slowly unbutton it, just like you had in the pictures, teasing him with every undone button.

Bradley’s gaze never left you, his breathing growing heavier as you undid the last button, revealing the lingerie beneath—pale blue, lace, with the same intersecting straps and cutouts from the photos. He whispered something, maybe a quiet curse or a breathless declaration of how much he loved you, his voice thick with need. Whatever it was, you couldn’t quite make it out.

You gave him a playful, teasing look before turning and heading toward the bedroom.

You’d barely made it into the room before Bradley was on you, his hands quickly unbuttoning and sliding your shorts off, leaving you in just the delicate lace. 

He pulled you back against him, your back to his chest, one hand trailing down from your chest to your stomach while the other gripped your hip, pressing you into him. You could feel the hardness there, his need evident against you.

A soft moan escaped your lips as Bradley leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Feel what you’re doing to me? That’s all because of you.” His voice was low, filled with raw desire, and the sound sent shivers down your spine.

Bradley’s words lingered in the air, sending warmth through your body as his hand moved from your stomach to your thigh, fingers brushing lightly along the edge of the lace. He gently traced the outline of your lingerie, teasing the sensitive skin beneath it. His breath was hot against your neck, and your body instinctively arched into him, craving more of his touch.

His fingers trailed back up, slipping under the lace at your hips as he whispered, “You have no idea what seeing you like this does to me.”

His voice was deeper now, laced with desire and intensity. He let his hands roam over your body, tracing the delicate fabric that covered you, while pressing your hips harder against his. You could feel how much he wanted you.

You let out a soft gasp when his fingers finally found the spot between your legs, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over the thin fabric of your lingerie. Bradley’s lips were on your neck now, kissing and nibbling along your skin, sending waves of pleasure through you.

You tried to push back against him, wanting to feel more of him, but he was in complete control, keeping the pace slow and torturous.

“Not yet,” he murmured against your skin, his hand moving even slower as he teased you, the tension building with each passing second.

A needy whimper escaped your lips, and Bradley chuckled, his low, raspy laugh only making you want him more.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he whispered, his fingers never leaving their spot between your thighs, driving you to the edge.

Your breath came out in short, desperate bursts. “I need you,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely a whisper as you leaned your head back against his shoulder, giving him even more access to your neck.

Bradley didn’t need any more convincing. In one swift motion, he spun you around to face him, his hands gripping your waist as he pressed his forehead to yours. His eyes, dark and full of desire, searched yours for a brief moment before his lips crashed into yours again. His kiss was rougher this time, full of hunger and urgency as he began guiding you toward the bed.

Before you knew it, you were on your back, and Bradley hovered over you, his gaze tracing every inch of your body, still adorned in the lace that had driven him wild. He paused for a moment, admiring you, his lips curving into a small, mischievous smile. 

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion and desire.

He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to your stomach, working his way up until his lips were at your chest. His hands slid under you, quickly unclasping the straps of the lingerie and tossing it aside. 

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he whispered against your skin, his breath hot as his mouth moved to your breasts, teasing you further.

Your back arched at the feeling of his tongue tracing circles, his hands firmly holding you in place. Every touch sent jolts of pleasure through you, and you could feel the tension building again, stronger and more intense with every kiss, every brush of his fingers.

“Bradley,” you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair as you urged him on.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Bradley's hands began to roam lower, and as he positioned himself above you, you felt the heat between your bodies build to a breaking point. There was nothing gentle now, just raw need and passion as he finally gave in to the tension that had been building between you since the moment he walked through the door.

He positioned himself between your legs, giving himself a few pumps before he started pushing himself into you. You immediately felt the stretch that had come after six months without any intimacy. He took it slow, pressing kisses to your shoulder as he tried to be gentle. 

He gave you a few moments to adjust once he was all the way in, both of your breaths coming in heavy. His hips pressed against yours, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you, but it wasn’t just the physical sensation—it was the connection, the months of longing, and the love that had built up in his absence. The world outside disappeared, leaving only the two of you wrapped up in each other, as if time itself had paused to let you have this moment in full.

With each motion, Bradley’s lips found your skin, trailing heated kisses along your neck, your shoulder, wherever he could reach. 

“God, I missed you,” he whispered between breaths, his voice rough with emotion. His forehead pressed to yours, his breath warm and ragged as he whispered more, the words tumbling out between the motions of his body. “Missed you so much… every night I thought about you, baby… how perfect you are… how much I love you.”

The way he said it, his voice thick with yearning, sent shivers down your spine. You felt his hands—firm, but tender—roaming your sides, his fingers digging in slightly as if he needed to confirm you were really there with him. His touch set your skin alight, the months of separation making each caress, each brush of his lips, even more intense. Your body responded to him instinctively, arching into his every movement, meeting his hips with equal fervor.

“Missed this,” he groaned, his forehead still pressed to yours as his pace quickened, his hips driving into you with a little more urgency now. “Missed us… missed the way you feel, the way you move with me…” His voice was hoarse, broken by the weight of his desire and the emotion that flowed between you both. His words only heightened the pleasure building inside you, the sensations intensifying with every thrust, every whispered confession.

Your nails grazed down his back, your fingers grasping at him, needing him closer, deeper, as if you couldn’t get enough of him. He grunted softly at the feeling, his muscles tightening under your touch, but it only spurred him on, his hips pushing harder, his body pressing against yours as though he was determined to make up for every missed moment.

The heat between you grew unbearable, your body tightening around him as he moved inside of you, the pressure building and building, your breaths becoming more ragged. His voice was still there, whispering against your lips, “I love you… I love you so much,” the sound of it driving you closer and closer to the edge.

Finally, it was too much. The pleasure hit you all at once, washing over you in waves so strong you couldn’t hold back. Your body trembled beneath him, your voice calling out his name, raw and full of the longing you had held inside for so long. Your fingers gripped his shoulders, clinging to him as the sensation overwhelmed you.

Bradley followed you into that release moments later, his body tensing above yours, a deep, guttural groan escaping his lips as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. His hips stilled, but his arms wrapped around you even tighter, as though he never wanted to let you go again. His breathing was heavy and uneven against your skin, his chest rising and falling with the aftershocks of his climax.

The two of you stayed like that for a long moment, tangled together in the aftermath, both of your hearts still racing, your bodies still buzzing from the pleasure. Slowly, Bradley pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours, full of love and devotion. His thumb gently traced your cheek as he smiled down at you, the kind of smile that made your heart swell with happiness.

"There anything else in your closet that’s new that I should know about?" He whispered, his voice teasing but warm, as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips, a kiss that was far gentler than the urgency of before, but just as full of love.

As your breathing began to slow, the world came back into focus, but it didn’t matter. At that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, everything else could wait. He was finally home, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

[lynnie-ee]

Inktober Day 1; Pretend.

╰┈➤"The olive theory says that if one person likes olives, and the other doesn't, they're opposites that attract. The prefect hates olives, yet they always appear on their meals...And Ace seems suspicious about it."

╰►Gender neutral reader, oneshot, 1.2k words.

╰►Note: The prompts are based on words I found interesting and then I put them on a roulette to decide when I would write about them, lol. English is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes <3. Not proof read, I haven't written in a long time, so I apologise if anything is out of character.

╰►Masterlist / Inktober Masterlist.

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“I can’t believe they did it again…”

“Is something wrong, Prefect?”

“They put olives on my sandwich again.”

The magicless human sighed, as they left their sandwich on the table under the gaze of their first-year friends. Every time they went to the cafeteria they asked for no olives on their sandwich, and every time they would ignore their request. It was getting tiring, by now, but that sandwich was really good and really cheap.

“Haha! Seems like it’s my lucky day. Your misfortune is my blessing.” Ace replied teasingly, grabbing the sandwich to remove the olives and putting them on his meal.

“Seriously, this is getting annoying. It shouldn’t be that difficult not to add something to a sandwich. If I was allergic, I’d be dead by now.”

“The cafeteria is always filled with people, I’m sure they don’t do it on purpose.” Deuce tried to cheer them up.

“If it’s bothering you so much, I could bring you a sandwich for tomorrow-“ Jack offered, but was quickly interrupted by Epel.

“No, you don’t want to do that.” Stated the Pomefiore student.

“Sorry?”

“You can’t bring sandwiches to the prefect.” Replied Epel, this time with a more intense glare, as if that would allow Jack to read his mind and understand the meaning behind his words.

“And that’s because…?”

“The prefect really likes the sandwiches from here. Isn’t that right?” Deuce answered, a smile on his face as he mentally praised himself for his save.

“I guess so.” The Ramshackle student replied without enthusiasm.

“See? We shouldn’t think so much about it. Class will start soon so-“

“My henchmen may prefer the sandwiches from here but I ain’t no sandwich discriminator! You’re all welcome to bring all the sandwiches you want to the great Grim.” Interrupted the small beast, still munching the rest of the food he was focused eating before he got into the conversation.

“Just eat, Grim.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

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“Oh, that’s unfortunate.” Commented Trey. “The ghosts from the cafeteria are very friendly, perhaps you should just ask.”

The vicehousewarden of Heartslabyul walked next to the prefect of Ramshackle through the halls of the school. They had encountered the third year on their way to meet Deuce and Ace, who were waiting along Grim for the prefect to come out of a brief talk they had with Professor Crewel after class.

“You think so?”

“Yes. I can go with you right now, if you’d like. I’m sure the boys won’t mind waiting a few minutes more.”

“I guess you’re right, let’s go.”

They made their way to the cafeteria, chatting about different topics. As soon as they arrived, they talked to the ghost in charge of meals, getting a curious answer.

“I thought you really liked olives, that’s why I always put a lot of them on your meals. You always work so hard, I thought it’d cheer you up!” Was the reply they received.

“But I never said I liked them…”

“Oh, you didn’t. It was Ace who told me.”

…

“He did?”

“Yeah, and you two seem to be very good friends, so I believed he would be correct.”

The prefect sighed. Of course, Ace did it.

“I’m thankful for your good intentions, but I don’t really enjoy olives, so you can stop putting them on my meals, please.”

“Of course, don’t worry!”

Both students left the room with a confused demeanour, Trey being the first one to ask the question.

“Do you know why he did it?”

“I don’t. To bother me, perhaps, or to get more lives. He always eats them from my sandwiches. He could have just asked for them on his meals instead of mine!” They answered, an annoyed frown adorning their face, which soon turned into a curious one, when they saw the confusion expression on the vicehousewarden’s expression. “Is something the matter?”

“Ace doesn’t like olives, either.”

“What?”

“He has asked a bunch of times to let him know if there are olives in the food, so he won’t eat them.”

“That can’t be. He always seems ecstatic to take them from my sandwiches; I don’t get why-“ They were interrupted by Trey’s laugh.

“Perhaps you should ask him, then.”

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“Hey, hey, slow down! You’re gonna break my arm!” A certain first-year complained, as the magicless student brought him to a more secluded area outside the school.

“You’re annoying!”

“Can I at least know why am I being dragged in this way?!”

“You’re ruining my food!”

“I never-“

“Why did you tell the cafeteria ghosts that I like olives? You know I hate them.”

 “That’s…because I wanted free olives, that’s it. Don’t think too much about it.”

“Trey said something very different to me, you know…”

Ace’s behaviour changed, his expression screaming ‘I got caught’, as they stop in the middle of the yard, (Y/n) quickly letting go of Ace’s arm.

“…Why did you even ask Trey that?”

“Ace.”

“C’mon, you’re making a big deal out of something very small-“

“Ace.”

“Prefect.”

“Ace.”

“Fine! I’ll tell you!” The first year surrounded quickly. “It was just an accident, okay?”

“An accident? For a month straight?”

“…Well, it was the first two times.” He murmured, looking away. “Like, I think the first time they just forgot and the second time they mixed the orders, I’m not really sure. The cafeteria is just like that sometimes, you know?”

The Ramshackle student just stared at him, a bored expression adorning their face, silently asking him to continue his explanation.

“It’s just that…You seemed…Very annoyed at it.”

“And what about it?”

“…You look very dumb when you’re like that, I just didn’t want to see it anymore.”

“Then why did you tell the ghosts that I-?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose-“

“Ace.”

“Because that way you’d depend on me for it, okay?! That’s it. You happy now?” He confessed, an irritating scowl appearing on his face, which didn’t match the reddish tone on his cheeks.

“That makes no sense-“

“Maybe it would if you weren’t so dense, idiot.”

“Sorry?”

“I can’t believe this, even Deuce noticed and you can’t even think about it.”

“About what?”

The first year sighed loudly, running his hands on his face to demonstrate his exasperation.

“About the fact that I like you! Great Seven, you’re really stupid.”

(Y/n) stood with a surprised expression, quickly thinking about Ace’s words, a sensation of heat reaching their cheeks as soon as they processed what he said, confusion still lingering. Silence settling for a few seconds, until the magicless student broke it with disconcert.

“…You really thought I’d noticed through olives?!”

“I thought you’d realise I’m very kind when I want to!”

“You insult me half of the time, how was even supposed to-!“

“Well then, will you go on a date with me or what?!”

“I will!”

“Fine, it was about time!”

They both stared at each other, still a bit startled from the sudden outburst. As their words settled in, embarrassment took over, both of them turning around to calm down.

“…You’re saying even Deuce knew?”

“I’ve been giving him the olives to him when you weren’t looking for the last week.”

…

“They really taste awful, don’t they?”

“Yeah I don’t wanna see one of them in a long time.”

“You did this to yourself.”

“I did it for you, idiot.”

“…You’re the idiot.”

“Whatever.”

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