#slipped in some baby gods because I wanted to draw them

[jennifer-jeong]

Smut | AFAB!Reader Experience

SUMMARY How would your sweet boyfriend be in bed after they gain some experience from you?

CONTENT NSFW, 18+, smut, afab (assigned female at birth) reader, feminine reader implied (calls you “good girl”), fingering, penetration, creampie, praise, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI, OKKOTSU YUTA, Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, XIAO, KAEDEHARA KAZUHA, HAYAKAWA AKI

I headcanon that they’re initially pretty new to all this but they’ve always been tooth-rotting-ly sweet, praising you etc. However, as they get more experienced with you, they start to get a bit more vocal and rough… And you love it.

WORD COUNT: 905

You giggle as your boyfriend tosses you onto the bed, your head resting on the plush pillow. He positions himself between your legs and snakes his hands up your shirt. He slowly makes his way up your body until his face sits above your chest and his hands are squeezing the bottom of your mounds.

“So pretty… I never get tired of seeing them” he says as he pulls your shirt and bra up. You whimper as he attaches his mouth to your hardening bud. Your giggles turning into quiet moans as he plays with your sensitive tits. Your body starts to burn. The fine hairs on your skin rising as goosebumps cover you.

You pull at his hair as he pleasures you, knowing that he loves the stimulation and the dull stinging. He moans onto your chest as he thumbs your other nipple.

When he detaches, he quickly smashes his lips onto yours as he undoes his pants. You properly slip off your top and bra as he yanks his shirt off in a swift motion before taking his pants off.

You quickly return to moving your lips together, tongues quickly entering the dance as well. Your tongues rub clockwise circles together that have you both moaning.

He kisses down your neck and his hands latch onto your waistband. He pulls off your pants and panties together. His fingers quickly find your clit, giving it a few circles before dipping two fingers into your drooling cunt.

“Mmph! Feels s’good” you mewl.

“God you’re so wet, all for me?” He says as he kisses the inside of your thigh.

You whimper in reply and he starts massaging the spongey part in you, drawing deeper moans from you.

He never really says it but your moans are so heavenly to him. It turns him on beyond belief and he loves that it’s because he’s making you feel good.

He leans forward to give you some more kisses and you reach between your legs to palm him through his boxers. He groans at the stimulation he’s been waiting for. His tip already leaky from just hearing you moan. It leaves a small wet spot on the fabric.

“Want me inside sweetheart?” he asks, muffled against your skin as he presses kisses into your chest.

“Y-yes please… Nngh fill me up baby,” you sob with his fingers still pumping into you. Your response making him groan and his cock twitch.

He pulls them out and wipes your arousal onto his aching cock, his boxers long discarded. He grabs the back of your thigh with one hand as he positions himself to your entrance with the other.

His tip pops in easily and you both let out a groan. He fucks you a bit with just his tip. You mewl and throw your head back, feeling the beginning of his girthy length. As he eases in, you choke out high pitched whines due to how much he stretches you out. You feel so full when he eventually bottoms out. It feels so good it makes you both light headed.

“Fuckkk, missed being inside you baby… I could do this all fucking day.” He groans

“Mmmhh… wish we could. Y’make me feel s’full ngh-”

His veiny shaft gives you the delicious friction you’ve been craving as he gives you shallow thrusts to help you adjust to his size. He doesn’t wait very long though, you make him so needy after all.

He starts a quick pace, his hands pushing the backs of your thighs to your chest. He knows this position helps him massage your g-spot easily. He will occasionally fully push in, stay there, and grind his hips in a circular motion to give you some amazing stimulation. It makes your core burn with pleasure and always brings you closer to your high quickly.

“Feel good?” He asks through panting, his nails starting to dig into your skin.

“S’good baby… mmph!-“

The sound of skin slapping and the filthy wet noises you two were making quickly fills the room. It makes your face burn but also turns you on. Your boyfriend, however, is absolutely drunk off the sound and stimulation. It's just something about your breathy moans of his name and the slick sound of his cock pulling on your gummy walls that drives him crazy.

"Ah-! Getting c-close baby..." You whine out.

“Yeah? Mmph- Gonna cum? S-such a good girl.” He groans and you nod quickly while moaning in response.

“F-fuck, I’m gonna cum too,” his thrusts getting irregular as your jaw falls slack. Your tongue lolling out slightly, expression fucked out as you approach your high.

His thumb finds your clit and you tumble over the edge, tremors passing through your body as your orgasm washes over you. Your moans are uncontrollable as you babble out “thank you” to him for helping you ride your high.

Your slick walls clamping down impossibly hard on him making him come apart just as quick. His waves of pleasure hit him and he lets out a few high pitched sobs before groaning in a deep voice. He stills inside you as he cums, rocking in and out slowly as his whole body twitches. Thick ropes of cum fill you up and add to the stimulation during your orgasm.

You both catch your breaths, enjoying the afterglow.

“You’re getting a lot better at this hm?” You tease.

“Well I have a pretty good partner to teach me,” he smiles. “It’s also motivating to learn when it's a win-win situation.”

You giggle at his cute words, reaching up to caress his cheek. “God, I love you so much.”

“I love you too sweetheart,” he says wholeheartedly as he kisses you again before cleaning up.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[hayatoseyepatch]

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∘∙⊱Description: Who would our little less experienced characters go to for help in pleasing their partner?

∘∙⊱Featuring:  Haruka Sakura, Jo Togame, Kyotaro Sugishita, Hajime Umemiya, Akihiko Nirei, Hayato Suo x fem!reader

∘∙⊱Words: 2.7k (I might have gotten a wee bit carried away, oops)

∘∙⊱Tags: fem!reader, minor spoiler warning for the manga (nothing too specific mentioned), aged up, smut, threesome, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, teasing, dom/sub dynamics, petnames, praising, degradation, dacryphilia, oral (m&f receiving), etc.

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a/n: Please be gentle with me I haven’t written anything proper in like 2 years lmao. But I’m currently obsessed with windbreaker and figured I’d take matters into my own hands for creating some content for these boys. Enjoy some spicy headcannons! You know the drill, 18+ content MDNI.

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-Sakura is a damn mess. I love this boy so much but he is. Because lets be honest, even getting together with Sakura was a project. This poor baby never even had someone show him friendship let alone love.

-(Slight Manga Spoilers) Sakura has gone to Togame for help before when it came to  the battle with Noroshi, and Togame has proven himself to be someone Sakura can rely on. Sakura treats everything like a fight, this is no different.

-Togame, in comparison, had much more experience. Being in Shishitoren was a lot on Togame before he met Sakura, so he had his fair share of sexual partners to relieve some stress.

-Sakura was new to relying on others, and even newer to asking for help. His face a bright red and a deep furrow in his brows. Togame took one look at his expression, eyebrows raising in curiosity. “What’s up Sakura, you good?” He had asked lazy crooked smile in place, tough he’d be lying if he wasn’t a bit concerned.

-Sakura’s scowl only deepened in response. “I need your help with something.” When Togame had urged him to go on, between clenched teeth he had asked him to help him pleasing his partner.

-To say Togame was shocked would be an understatement. Sakura’s furrow in his brow deepened. “Listen, I know your much more experienced than I am, I just.. I want to make sure she feels good too. But I fucking swear one smart ass comment and I’ll beat your ass into next week. You got it?” Togame’s eyes softened he knew how Sakura was, how hard it was for him to ask for help. He must really care for you. He agreed without a second thought.

-It wasn’t long before he found himself in your shared bedroom. His eyes wide at your form clad in nothing but a cute matching set the both of your cheeks adorned with the same bright red hue. He had to remind himself why he was here. He was here to help his friend, but gods were you so damn beautiful.

You felt so exposed, tears collecting on your lashes, as Togame has you spread open for Sakura. Your back resting against Togame’s chest, your thighs hooked over his, fully exposing your dripping center to Sakura’s hungry gaze. Togame’s long fingers drawing lazy circles over your needy clit. Your essence was dripping from your opening onto the sheets below, it had felt like Togame had been teasing your for hours, mind already swimming and neither of them had even filled your cunt. Togame’s other hand gently thumbing at your nipple, had you wiggling desperately in his grasp.

“See, Sakura, you need to take your time. You see how much of a mess her pretty pussy is making?” He chuckles, deep and breathy, right into your ear. “All that wetness is gonna make it feel so much better for the both of you. Plus just see for yourself how sexy it sounds”

Sakura felt like he was going to explode, his cheeks radiating warmth with how red they were, his cock straining against his pants, aching for attention.  All Sakura could do is nod eyes locked on your dripping cunt. “Go ahead Sakura, slowly slip two fingers inside, that’s it, see how easy it is?” he grins at the look on Sakura’s face at the squelching sound your cunt makes, coupled with the sound that falls from your lips at the feeling of his fingers stretching your once empty cunt. “sh-shut the fuck up I know how to put my fingers inside, asshole” Sakura grumbles, but he couldn’t deny Togame was right, they’ve never slipped in with such ease before.

Togame chuckles once more. “Oh she’s so responsive, how adorable~” Sakura’s eyes are wide, he’s never heard you make that sound before, he quickly gets drunk on your reactions, fingers gliding in and out of your cunt with ease with how wet you were. Togame continues to guide Sakura, telling him just how to position his fingers in such a way that he is repeatedly hitting the spot deep inside you that has your vision going white.

“Oh! H-Haruka, right there, please please I’m gonna~” You cry out, embarrassed at how loud your volume had gotten as you beg for release. Togame finally picks up speed, his fingers no longer drawing lazy patterns but circling your clit faster now. “That’s it doll, don’t hold back, show Sakura how good he’s making you feel.” Sakura watches intently, mesmerized, feeling your walls clamp down on his fingers body trembling as he and Togame’s fingers guide you through your orgasm. Sakura surging forward, lips claiming yours hungrily, swallowing your moans. Coming down from you high, breaths panting as you try and calm your racing heart and trembling thighs.

“Alright Sugar, I think your ready for the main event.” Both you and Sakura’s eyes widen at Togame’s words, you were both in for a long night.

Umemiya & Sugishita

-Let’s be honest here, Sugishita is trusting NO ONE other than Umemiya. He hold so much respect for him and I feel like if he’s going to anyone its him.

-I feel like his partner also spends plenty of time with Umemiya, so it wouldn’t be a stranger who is being invited into their bedroom. A good bit of Sugishita’s time is spent helping Umemiya in the garden or with meetings, so its safe to say that his partner spends a good bit of their time on the rooftop with them.

-Sugishita also knows that Umemiya will be gentle and not push any boundaries that  him or his partner are uncomfortable with. He finds some relief knowing Umemiya isn’t going to go all sadistic on his partner.

-That being said Sugishita is still so nervous to ask for help. He’s worried in some way he’d be disappointed in him for not being able to fulfill his partners needs. Umemiya is so caught off-guard when he asks too, Sugishita rarely ever asks for help so as the leader and viewing Furin’s members as his siblings of course he’s happy to help! Though Sugishita’s next words were ones he couldn’t have guessed even if he tried.

-When the time comes, and the three of you are in the comfort of your bed, they dwarf your frame. These boys are BIG, Sugishita is 6’3” and Umemiya is 6’2” so honeybun I’m praying for you for real.

-Umemiya is so patient, his gentle words guiding both of your actions, he is fully in hold of the reins. He has the both of you hanging on to his every word.

“That’s it Sugishita, be gentle, ease into her. She how much easier it slides in after warming her up?” Umemiya’s voice is tender, guiding Sugishita’s actions and easing your mind. His deep baritone spoken directly in your ear has you letting out shudder. Sugishita lets out a deep groan, you were always tight, normally struggling to take his girth. But your velvet walls pulled him in the wetness from the last hour Umemiya spent between your thighs making him slide in with ease.

“So.. fucking.. tight” Sugishita grunts, heeding his mentor’s word, resisting the urge to slam into you desperate to feel more of you. You whimper at the stretch, Umemiya titling your chin upwards, lips meeting your own. His tongue exploring your mouth, large hands roaming your body. One hand circles a sensitive nipple, the other has his fingers tracing mindless shapes on your clit. Effectively distracting you from the stretch of Sugishita entering your tight heat. The both of you moan loudly as Sugishita bottoms out, feeling filled to the brim and he hadnt even gotten started. “That’s it, give her a moment, let her get accustomed. Its okay sweetheart, poor little thing your tight little pussy is so full isn’t it baby?” The gentle tone of Umemiya’s voice contradicts the absolute filth that leaves his mouth. His words having you wiggling your hips desperate for more. “Please, Kyo, more.. please fuck me”

Umemiya grins, the desperate tone in your voice has his own cock straining against the tight fabric of his boxers. “Go on Sugishita, she asked so nicely, are you gonna make her beg?” He teases, having both of your cheeks flushing pink, as Sugishia begins to move. His hips rutting into yours,  your head being tossed back, resting on Umemiya’s shoulder. “Please.. please.. touch me Ume” You beg, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears in your desperation.

The older man grins, lips attaching themselves to your neck, his fingers resuming their ministrations on your sensitive spots. Letting out a deep growl, Sugishita picks up the pace hips slamming into your own. “You see that Sugishita, you see how deep you are inside her?” He teases, pointing out the bulge in your tummy where he can practically see just how deep he was thrusting inside you. He gritted his teeth willing himself not to cum, not yet. Not when you felt so good, not when you were making such beautiful sounds.

Your hand reaches behind you, slipping inside Umemiya’s boxers, your small hand wrapping around his cock, giving an experimental tug not wanting to leave him out. He curses into your neck. His hips thrusting into you hand as you begin pumping his length in your hand. Sugishita couldn’t take it anymore, you felt too good, your sounds doing too much to him. You too were on the edge. “Kyo, Kyo, please gonna..” You come undone with a cry, Sugishita matching your actions, spilling himself into your waiting cunt. After catching your breath, you and Sugshita have a silent conversation with your eyes, his response being an approving nod and a grunt, as you turn your half lidded gaze up to Umemiya.

“Ume.. please fuck me.. wanna make you feel good too.” The white haired male’s eyes widening at your forwardness, but as he said to Sugishita earlier, he wasn’t going to make you beg when you asked so nicely.

-See these two here… I think this arrangement is a bit different from the others. Unlike Sakura & Sugishita, it isn't Nirei going to Suo for help for his partner, but rather Suo helping Nirei get some experience under his belt.

-Suo is already training Nirei, taking him under his wing to show him how to defend himself, to him this was just another lesson for him to give the blonde.

-Nirei was confused when Suo had texted him telling him to meet him at his apartment rather than their usual meeting spot for training. Regardless, he followed instruction, curious as to where Suo lived. After all these years of knowing him, he still only knew what Suo let him know about him he was a mystery to him.

-He met Nirei at the door his signature closed eye smile adorning his face, laced with mischief, as he led him inside. “y/n isnt here, Suo?” Nirei had asked curiously, also with a twinge of nervousness.

-Suo was extremely perceptive, he noticed the cherry red that dusted Nirei’s cheeks whenever you greeted him or made idle chatter. How could he not? You were breathtaking after all. So Suo would throw one of his closest friends a bone. Tilting his head with a smile. “Oh no, she’s here, just in the bedroom waiting for our lesson.”

-Nirei didnt know what he was expecting when he followed Suo into their bedroom, but he nearly fainted seeing you sat on the bed waiting patiently in nothing but your bra and panties. Before he could profusely apologize for catching you in such a state of undress and run, his friend had placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Today’s lesson is going to be a bit different, today me and y/n are going to be teaching you about inflicting pleasure rather than pain.”

-The nervous blonde thought his heart might just beat right out of his chest, was this a cruel prank from you both? Had Suo caught him staring at you and decided to give him a humiliating punishment?

-He would be a liar if he said he hadn’t imagined being with you before. If he hadn’t spent late nights fucking his fist, imagining it was you touching him instead. If he didn’t whimper your name in his pillow as he came.

-But when your big doe eyes met his, a delicate hand reached out to welcome him into the bed with a comforting nod of your head offering your consent, who was he to say no?

“He’s awfully eager isn’t he darling? Oops it seems like your mouths a bit full, how silly of me~” Suo chuckled, tone in his voice teasing, as he stuffed your mouth full of his cock. His eye softening as he looked down at you, fingers carding gently before tugging just the way he knew you liked, forcing more of his cock down your throat.

Your moans sent vibrations around Suo’s cock, he was right, Nirei was surely eager. His tongue lapping at your pussy like a man starved. His inexperienced tongue was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Suo needing to remind him to take breaths. Said man, chuckled once more, teasing voice filling the room.

“Nirei, she isn’t going anywhere we’re just getting started, make sure your focusing on her clit, that’s a boy just like, fuck, just like that.” The tail end of his sentence he wasn’t sure which of you it was directed at, the way you bobbed your head taking him expertly in your throat had the normally composed man losing his bearings. Using his grip on your hair he lifted you off his length.

“Come here.” He instructs the blonde, who reluctantly removed his face from its position buried between your thighs. You beckon Nirei to you with your hand in his, pressing your lips together in a heated kiss. Tongue quickly overtaking his own, allowing him to taste Suo on his tongue, a stark reminder of who you belonged to. This seemed to please your boyfriend, enough for him to slot himself between your legs. His cock sliding in with ease due to the wetness from Nirei’s saliva and your own arousal.

You moan, desperately into Nieri’s mouth, head being tossed back at the feeling of Suo’s cock filling you so deeply. His groan making both if you shudder. No time is wasted, you were quick to replace the empty feeling in your mouth with the blonde’s cock. He let out a loud desperate moan as the warmth of your mouth welcomes him in, hollowing your cheeks as you begin to suck. Suo sets a brutal pace from the beginning, determined to have all three of you coming undone at the same time.

You and Nirei’s moans and whimpers bounce off the walls, leaving no question of who was solely in control of you both in this moment. Suo felt the familiar spasm of your walls around him, indicating your impending release. “That’s it my love, come on, let go for me. Show Nirei how beautiful you look coming undone on my cock.”

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t close, the stimulation of your earlier ministrations bringing him to the edge faster than he normally would. Nirei is the first of you to come, a loud cry falling from his lips, tears streaming down his cheeks as he unloads into your waiting mouth. Nearly coming a second time just from the sight of you swallowing his cum, just so you would be able to cry out Suo’s name as you came on his cock. Suo was the last to topple over the ledge, your orgasm triggering his own. Hands gripping your plush hips in an iron grip as he paints your walls white. The room is silent save for the sounds of panting, all three of you catching your breaths from such intense releases. Suo’s voice is the first to break the silence.

“Alright Nirei, go on, if you clean her up real nice with your tongue I might just let you fuck her pretty cunt after.~”

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Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and as always likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. This is my first time writing for these characters so I hope I did them some justice. See you in the next one!

[alexetbishop]

THE SUN AND THE MOON

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Demigod!Reader

Summary: Kate makes a visit in your universe after weeks of not seeing eachother.

Word count: 2.5K

Pure fluff. Kate is such a dog mum. This is taking the sapphic long distance experience on a whole other level. Reader is a daughter of Apollo.

a/n: there might be a prequel of this on the workings. It's still an abstract idea but I already got something laid out.

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"Okay, I'll come and pick you up tomorrow morning at 10:00. And if I find you two doing cheeky stuff again you can say bye-bye to your personal multiversal taxi." America warned Kate as she was opening a portal right on the fire escape outside your bedroom window.

"Just to clarify, we were just making out." Kate points out. "We were half naked but only making out." She adds mumbling to herself. She took a step forward, finding herself in your universe. "Whatever. You own me so many pizza balls for this." America grumbles before closing the portal.

You were sitting at your desk, music was blasting through your headphones as you were finishing up an assignment on your computer.

Kate opened your window and jumped inside your room. She smiled as she saw you concentrated on your work. Her backpack slips out of her shoulder, hitting the hardwood floor. She sneaks behind you and takes your headphones off.

"Whatcha listening to?" She whispers in your ear. You jump on your seat and turn around.

"Oh my god!" You whisper shouted. "Kate? What are you doing here?" You stood up from your chair, a smile plastering on your shocked face. You weren't supposed to see her until next week, so this was certainly a very nice surprise.

"Hi, baby. 'Was just popping by. Wanted to see what my beautiful girl was up to." She shrugged as her hands found your waist, immediately connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. When you draw back you notice she has cuts and bruises all over her face and probably on her body too since her suit was all ripped and a bit bloody. You tilt your head. "Did you come here because you wanted to see me or because you want me to be your personal nurse again?"

"Both?" She raised her eyebrows and made her famous puppy eyes at you. You shake your head and chuckle. "Take off your suit." You step back, crossing your arms under your chest. "Eager, are we?" She teases as she peels off her archery suit, throwing it on the floor. Now she's left with a black tank top that accentuates her muscular form and some boxers that had purple hearts on them. Of course she was wearing something like that.

You roll your eyes. "Just stay still." Your hand reaches her jaw, where a fresh and deep cut was glaring at you.

You took a deep breath: a golden aura began to shine around your body. Kate felt your warmth streaming from your fingers to her jaw. In a matter of seconds the cut disappeared. "Who did you fight this time?" Your hand moved to her forehead. "Just some thugs that were trying to steal some kind of dangerous substance. It was a pretty cool fight, actually. I knocked out three guys with only one shot." She says proudly. You smile at her being all cocky of her actions. "That's amazing, love."

As your hands were moving all around her body, healing her from every single bruise and cut, she rambled on and on about her mission. You had to force her to stay still because she was moving around trying to demonstrate how she back flipped and knocked a guy out kicking him in the nuts with her left foot.

Once her skin was smooth again you removed your hands and returned to a normal non glowing human. "Thank you, princess." She smiled at you and gave you a quick peck on the lips. "You knows you're always so hot when you do that. Literally and figuratively."

You chuckled and sat down on the bed, reaching for a bottle of soda on your bedside table and drinking it to get your full strength back.

Kate crawled on the bed, laying on top of you. Her arms cradled around your hips and her chin rested on your midriff as she gazed up at you with her dazzling angel eyes.

"I missed you." She whispers and leans her head forward. She starts to leave a trail of butterfly kisses from your collarbone to your lips. You can't help but giggle at that sweet action.

"I missed you too, Katie." Now her face is right above yours. Your hands find the small of her back and caress her there, your touch is as soft as a feather while you draw heart shaped figures on her bare skin.

"Lucky misses you too." You could feel one of her calloused hands sliding up your back and reaching your neck. "He's always so excited whenever I say your name." She then lets go of you, and goes to retrieve her phone that was in her backpack. "I've got a few videos of that, actually." She crawled back next to you, opened her gallery and pressed play on a video of Lucky being all happy and stomping around as his tail was wagging like an helicopter. You chuckle at the adorable sight.

For the next few minutes Kate proceeds to show you every single video of Lucky she had. (even the ones that you had seen a million times already) "Wait! I almost forgot." She reached in her backpack, taking out a small folder. She opened it and inside there were dozens of pictures of her, Lucky, and a couple with her team too. "I printed some more pictures for you." You melted. Kate knew you couldn't have a phone (being a demigod was really shitty sometimes.), and every time she made sure to print a lot of pictures (and yes, some of them were spicy too). You, in the other hand, were more prone to writing. So while you had an album full of pictures, she had a folder with all your letters and poems.

You couldn't help but to lean forward and kiss her on the lips. "Thank you." You looked at the pictures for a few moments and then looked up. "I got something for you too." You stretched your arm to open the drawer of the bedside table and took a small notebook, handing it to her. "It's a small scrapbook I've been making for the past couple of weeks." There's all kinds of things: poems, flowers, pictures and small things that remind you of her.

The corners of Kate's mouth reached her ears. "You're amazing, princess." She took the scrap book in her hand, starting to open it and flip through the pages. You stopped her. "Nah uh." You put your hand over hers, shutting the scrapbook closed. "That's for later. When you're back home."

Kate rolls her eyes. "Fine." She carefully puts the scrapbook in her backpack. She crawls back to you, fully laying on you and burying her face in your neck. She starts giving you little kisses on the same spot. "Come with me." She says in between kisses. "Come back to my universe."

"Katie, you know I can't." You sigh. Being long distance was certainly not easy. Especially if you both live in different universes, and don't have any type of communication besides iris messages, that you discovered can work between universes, but those can last just for a couple of minutes. (One time you left the "call" go on for the whole night. You had to toss 15 drachmas to pay for it. The inflation has reached the mythical world too apparently.)

"Please." Her soft voice was humming against your skin. You wanted to. You wanted to be with her, be close to her, falling asleep in eachothers arms and waking up to Lucky jumping on the bed and licking your faces. But you had your family to take care of. You were the oldest of the family. Your mum worked all day long, leaving you to take care of your two little siblings. And also you had college. You had missed the whole first semester due to the whole "disappearing into another universe thing" and now you had to catch up.

"I promise that I will, just not now. I have so much going on right now. I can't just disappear again after being away for months." You made her look at you, cupping her cheeks. "You promise?"

"I promise." You whisper, a small smile tugging on your lips.

She leans in and kisses you. She wants time to stop. Tomorrow morning she'll have to go back and it's going to be another couple of weeks until she can see you again. So she doesn't dare to pull away from you. She wants to be in your arms forever.

Soon her tongue slides in your mouth, sinking into you. But it's not enough. Touching you isn't enough. Her hands move up and down your sides, squeezing your waist over your sweater. Or better, her sweater that you stole the last time you went to visit her. Her fingers graze your stomach and slides her cold hands under the soft fabric. Your skin perks up, a shiver running down your spine to Kate's electric and intoxicating touch.

"Katie..." You whisper when her lips detach for a millisecond. She just hums against your mouth, her hands sliding upwards. She knows you're not wearing a bra underneath.

"Darling..." You say again a bit louder but she continues. And right when her fingertips are about to reach your breasts, you stop her. She leans back from your face, her hands don't move, they're warm, now having stolen the heat of your body. She's looking at you with her mouth agape, she's slightly panting, her pupils are blown out and tendrils tickling your now rosy cheeks. "We can't do that right now."

She furrows her eyebrows and she's about to ask why when someone knocks on your bedroom door. "Y/N?" It's your mum. You totally forgot that on Sundays she only works in the morning. Shit. She tries to open the door. This is the only time you thank the gods for having a crappy and old apartment. The handle of the door is almost broken, so it's pretty hard to open it unless you know the right mechanism to not tear the knob out.

"Quick. Hide somewhere!" You tell Kate as she panics and jumps out of the bed. She looks around and then she hears a click. The handle slightly turns and the door opens. Kate crouches down and slides under your bed right before your mum walks in your room.

You quickly put all the pictures that were next to you on the bed under your pillow and smile innocently. "Hey, mum. What's up?"

"I've made tea, do you want some?" She asks.

"Uhm- no. Thank you. I'm fine." You fold your arms under your chest.

"Are you sure? You've been in here for the whole day. You need to take some breaks from those books." She points at your messy desk.

"Yeah, I know. I'm taking one right now. You know, laying in bed and- looking at the ceiling." Kate has to hold in a laugh for your lame response. "It's very relaxing. You should try it."

"Alright." She says reluctantly. She takes a step back when she notices Kate's backpack on the floor next to your bed. Fortunately her suit was on the other side so she couldn't see it. "What's that?" She points at the black backpack.

"Oh. That's uhm- Will's. He left it here yesterday." You lie. But it was pretty effective because Will actually came to visit you the previous day. He would never own a backpack like that but your mum buys the lie and nods. "Hm. Okay. Well, if you need anything I'll be in the living room. Your siblings want to see Cars again." She states and closes the door behind her.

"Okay. Cool, thanks. Have fun!" You hold your breath until you can't hear her footsteps anymore and pat the side of the bed. "Coast is clear." Kate rolls out from under the bed and lays on your bedroom floor, a smirk on her face. You sit criss cross on the edge of the bed and look down at her. "What?"

"You're right. It is relaxing watching at that nice and smooth ceiling." She mocks.

"Shut up." You dangle down one foot and lightly kick her on her hip. She fakes a hurt face and pouts. She stands up and now she's the one looking down at you. "So, I gather you haven't told her yet?" You shake your head. You did want to tell your mum about Kate. But you know she would freak out. She's... very protective, to say the least. The first time you heard of camp half-blood or the term 'demigod' was when you were 15. You didn't even suspect anything since monsters wouldn't attack as you weren't as powerful as some other demigods. So she took that as an opportunity to keep you safe next to her. But the time comes for everyone and one day, after a big fight with her, you sneaked out, walking all the way to camp. And it wasn't a nice little promenade at all with monsters attacking you left and right every single step.

You only reconciled after the whole thing about your dad getting transformed into a teenage boy. Now you were on pretty good terms again, but her protectiveness hasn't ceased that much.

"I want to. I really do but... She'll definitely ban me from going to see you." You look down. "If she even finds out that in those months I've been in another universe and not at camp she'll probably get into a coma." You scoffed.

"Yeah, but you're an adult now. You are way capable to make your own decisions." Kate sat down next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

"I know. But the past months we became so close, more close than we've ever been and I don't want to ruin that again." Your eyes are fixed on your lap. You stop the urge to take your fingers to your mouth and bite your nails. Kate sees you getting anxious and she places her hand that wasn't around you over your hands. She speaks with a calm and smooth voice. "Hey, get those bad thoughts out of your head. In the first place, you didn't ruin anything. And secondly, I'm okay with you taking your time. I won't push you to do anything you don't want to." She kisses your temple and then presses your forehead against it.

You lean into her touch and exhale deeply. Then you turn your head, your eyes fix on her collarbone, the sun necklace you gave her is shining on her toned skin. You had a matching one, but with a little moon charm instead of the sun ("That way, it's like we will never be apart." Kate said when she gave it to you.). Then your gaze travels along Kate's features until you meet two oceans rumbling in front of you. "I really love you."

She smiles. "I love you too, baby." She pauses and her sweet smile turns into a cheeky grin. "So no head?"

You chuckle and shake your head. "Can't risk having my whole family hearing your pretty sounds." You peck her nose, making her scrunch it in an absolutely adorable way. "Those are only for me I'm afraid. I can propose some cuddling with a little make out session if you'd like." You suggest.

"Okay. That's fair." She nods in agreement. "Let's get started then, we have so little time and I have to tell you so many things." She climbs on top of you and gently pushes you down the bed. You giggle and your lips press together.

You stayed up all night. Talking about random stuff, taking breaks to make out, and chat again trying to maintain your voices and giggles as quiet as possible.

And it's in these moments where you understand that whatever happens, you won't ever let go of eachother. Because despite the distance you need eachother. The sun and the moon will always need eachother.

[hearts444karma]

hihiii!! if your request are open, could i request a nsfw (or fluffy) oneshot with shu x reader x sonny? theyre both my oshis and so when i heard of the collab i almost explodeddd (ﾉ´∀｀*)

「　𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 ！」　☆彡 18+ content

shu yamino x fem!reader x sonny brisko. ⟆ nsfw + 3some, blowjob, boobjob. ⟆

💌 : OMFG YESSSSS TWIN!! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!! i cannot tell you how many times i've played this song!! BABY I DONT EVER WANNA STOP 🫠😩😩 100 DEGREES, ME ON MY KNEES??? 👏LET 👏 THEM👏 TAKE 👏 A BITEEEE 👏 DHKFSVHUNIJCE WE EATTING GOOD || stuff some of my hc's in (bratty dom shu + softie sani <33) and put some of the lyrics in..

the two crawl closer. sonny meets you at your front, happily kissing your hands as he draws them around his neck. shu takes the open angle to fit his hard-on against your ass, hands filling in your hips with the same passion his lips appreciate your shoulders with. his mouth spirals into your hair, then your neck, searing your ass backward and into his pelvis. you’re kissed on the lips by sonny’s god-crafted pecks, dipping in and out to brush his lips against yours. they can both kiss well. you know all of your fantasies are going to come true by how they're manhandling you.

so you moan. you let it all out, letting them know how much you wanted it, mewling, whining, and groaning. and you want it like you’ve never wanted anything more in your life. you want sonny’s cum to paint your chest, and you want shu inches inside of you. you want to be made love to, fucked and used. judging by how you’re kissed, that's what they want too.

sonny tongues your teeth. he gets braver as you go, groaning into your mouth, muttering things between kisses. you dig your fingers into his fluffy hair and drag him in for more. he’s enjoying himself so much that he’s humming, which makes you want to get on your knees and hum around his dick like that. adorable.

meanwhile, shu’s getting tired of being ignored. his kisses are joined by harsh bites, and his hands smooth up from your hips to your chest in circles, squeezing your breasts in each hand. the feel of the fabric isn’t enough for him, though, because he quickly forces his hands up your bra and over your chest. sonny’s wide palms join his, squeezing and massaging your tits.

“beautiful,” he murmured, “you’re so beautiful.”

you give him a longer, sweeter kiss for the comment, which is the last straw for shu. sonny is nuzzling your cheek with his nose one second, and shu is shoving his tongue into your mouth the next. you moan, but he only likes it more.

from behind, sonny hugs you against him, kissing your neck and cupping your chest. your nipples are rolled lovingly through his fingers. shu, on the other hand, leaves his love in kissing. your ass is grabbed viciously by his nails, raking handfuls of your tender flesh. the sounds of kissing, spit popping and moaning fill your ears.

but this isn’t only for you. soon, you find a way to pry yourself out of sonny’s hug and shu’s aggressive ass-grabbing to slip onto your knees.

shu chuckles, “you on your knees.. are you ready for me?” his voice makes your pussy throb.

sonny shuffled forward a bit and tried not to look too shy. “us.”

surprisingly, they're too shy to make the next move. considering how fun it is one-on-one, you have no issue doing it for them. but this is two-on-one, so there’s two faces to watch as you palm them through their pants, pull them in, then unwrap them. sonny has his eyes closed in anticipation, his lashes fixed against his cheeks. shu’s sharp violet eyes targeted you. his gaze is the heaviest, so you treat him for it.

their cocks are huge. bigger than you recall. sonny’s is ridiculously proportioned, long, thick, and smooth. he literally hangs when you pull him free. shu's is defined, veiny, and handsome-looking. you don’t need to collect any spit, since the drool pooling in your mouth at the sight is enough. working sonny in one hand, you start with shu’s cock. sliding himself into your mouth by the hips, studying your handiwork with malicious delight. you’re all moaning too much to speak, except for shu’s low grunt of, “you wanna taste the flavor? then take it all.”

you do. shu’s cock immediately jolts in to press into the back of your throat. you let him through, gulping, gucking, and sucking with every new inch. a chill races up your body at the deadly edge in his eyes.

you hit his base with ease. his cock settles perfectly in the sleeve of your throat. every throb of meat fills your entire skull, bulging under the skin of your neck. you suck spit back through your teeth and pump your head along the last inch of cock.

however, you're too slow for him. shu gives sonny a smug look, grabs your hair in both hands, and then begins to pound into your face like a madman. you love it. the heat in your stomach when he uses you as he pleases is the sluttiest feeling ever. he goes until your eyes well with tears, stuffing you to the brim, and then releases you to groan, “good girl.”

your spit hangs from his dick in strings and bubbles. you’d lick them up if there wasn’t a aching, desperate commander to care for.

“don’t strain yourself,” sonny whispers. it had taken four times as long to get sonny to cum from a blowjob the first time you’d done it, so by now, you’ve learned. the spit from shu’s dick follows you to sonny’s, which you waste no time popping into your mouth.

he likes light kisses and lots of tongue. the veins in his cock flutter when traced. his head is almost too big to hold in your mouth, but it's worth it to see the whimper of his lips. sonny mewls for more. you suckle his head faster, rolling your wet tongue along its sweet surface. with a few more kisses and a lot more long drags of your tongue, he’s panting as hard as shu is.

“don’t worry, shubert” you grin. “i’m just getting started.”

you can barely fit their tips in your mouth one at a time, but you try both anyway. shu smears your spit back onto your cheek with his dick, which slips easily through the slick saliva dripping down your chin. their fat, delicious cocks squeeze into either side of your lip. sonny has to grab the headboard to keep from breaking something.

“i don't ever wanna stop,” sonny gasps.

you hum in agreement since your mouth is too full for you to speak properly. while you’re gagging on one of shu’s balls, sonny leans down and fixes your bra… then slides his dick through.

the hot, sticky flesh sizzles between your breasts. you try not to cum when you realize what he’s trying to do. squeezing your tits around him, you shudder in pleasure as sonny begins to thrust his spit-soaked manhood through the shape of your chest. the fact that it’s sonny making such a bold move only makes it more panty-soaking.

taking advantage of the spare hole, shu guides your head to the side and onto his waiting cock. You’re used from two angles then, once as sonny’s pair of tits and again as shu’s slutty cock-sheath.

“she loves it,” shu grins, “once you get my load, you’re gonna savor it, aren’t you?”

you nodded as best you could on shu’s girth. sonny’s thrusts push you back with every blow, bouncing your breasts each time. without warning, you’re struggling to gulp down shu’s load, which he only plunges deeper into your throat. you can practically feel him pumping into your stomach. it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever felt until sonny cums a second later, pouring a whole quart of seed across your neck and chest.

you collapsed backward, spent. slouched there, covered and filled with cum, you felt like a cream donut.

the two men stood over you, admiring their handiwork as you lay there breathless and sticky. shu chuckled, running a hand through your hair as he praised your performance. sonny leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before helping you sit up. you couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment wash over you as you basked in the afterglow of their pleasure. <3

[604to647]

Macarons

3.9K / Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: Tim thinks you’re mad at him.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Established relationship, soft!Tim, nicknames as usual (Shutterbug, baby, gorgeous), fluff and smut, oral (m receiving), titty fucking (don't look at me), unprotected PiV.

A/N: Another instalment of The Rockford Portfolio and this one is just silly, silly (until the smut😂); as always, can be read standalone. You guys know that TikTok couples trend where the user films their significant other's reaction when they try to leave the house without a kiss goodbye/saying "I love you"?  Ok, Shutterbug tries it on Tim (and Tim does not have the TikTok) 🤭🤭.

Photography inspired dividers by @saradika-graphics / Series Masterlist

You’re chuckling to yourself as you send goodnight messages to your friends.  While Tim’s been getting ready for bed in the bathroom, you’ve been catching up on the memes and TikToks that have been sent since you last opened the chat.  The latest ones all a variation of the same couples trend.

Hubby’s reaction when I try to leave without kissing him goodbye!

Pranking my boyfriend by not saying “I Love You” back.

Watch me confuse my golden retriever s/o.

The trend is mainly silly, the humour laying in the adorable confusion of partners who are clearly in love with their significant others.  Even if most of these videos are likely staged, you find yourself smiling at them.  Looking up to see Tim turning off the bathroom light, your heart skips a beat at how delicious your handsome boyfriend looks in his nighttime wifebeater and boxers combo; he’s giving you that lopsided, adoring smile that always makes your stomach flutter.  Damn you love him.

[10:49 pm] Good night babes!  Thanks for the laughs!  I think I’m going to try this on Tim tomorrow.

[10:50 pm] Hahaha! Oh my god, tell us how it goes!

[10:50 pm] Good night!  Yes, report back!

[10:51 pm] Oh yes please, I tried it on Andy and he was just like, ‘Did you hit your head?’ Hahaha!  Good night!

[10:51 pm] Good night!! Love you, bbs!

“What are you smiling about, Shutterbug?” Tim grins up at you after he slides into bed and snuggles his head into your pillow, ignoring the perfectly matching and fluffy ones on his side of the bed. 

Giggling, you set your alarm and put your phone away, “Just watched some funny TikToks that the girls sent.”

“I swear it’s like a secret language.  Sometimes those chats of yours are just videos and pictures - no actual words,” chuckles Tim as you turn off your bedside lamp and slip down under your shared covers.

“It is!  Like a friendship love language.  You should get TikTok, Detective – then we could speak it too,” you give Tim a playful smile because you already know what his answer is going to be.

“Don’t need to, Shutterbug.  You show me all the good ones anyways, and explain them to me if I don’t understand,” Tim presses a long and soft kiss to your lips, coaxing your mouth open so he can slowly lick in.  An invitation.

It’s a given that you’ll accept.  You gently roll the detective’s massive frame onto his back with your hand, the gentlest of nudges, before climbing on top of him. “It’s hard work, you know? Staying on top of all these memes and video trends,” you murmur, lips ghosting over Tim’s as your hips start to lightly grind down over his growing bulge, “Hard work should be rewarded.”

“Is that what you want, gorgeous?  To be rewarded?” Tim smirks into your neck as he trails kisses down the column of your throat.  You whimper in assent as his rough hands start to claw up your waist, thumbs drawing sweet circles on the underside of your breasts.

“Gotta use your words, Shutterbug,” teases Tim.

“Yes, please, Detective!  Reward me,” you manage to breathe out before letting out a joyous squeal at the lightning speed with which Tim flips you over.  Pinning you to the bed under his massive weight and kissing you hungrily, Detective Tim Rockford growls against your plush and pouty lips, “Going to reward you and then ruin you, baby,” turning your sweet giggles into moans.

The next morning, you have an early meeting that has you leaving for work earlier than usual.  Tim is just getting out of the shower when you slip on your work shoes and call out, “Bye!  Have a good day, Detective!”

Grabbing your jingling keys from the key bowl, you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing when you hear the hurried strides of your boyfriend rushing out of the bathroom.

“Have a good day, Shutterbug.  I love you,” Tim exhales as slows down and reaches the front foyer, glad to have caught you before you left.

You immediately regret turning around – this is going to be a lot harder than you thought; Tim is fresh from the shower with only a towel hung low on his hips, steam still rising off his hot body and residual drops of water dot his hard chest like diamonds.  His wet hair is slicked back, making him look distinguished even in his nearly nude state.  Forget not kissing him - how the hell are you supposed to keep from pouncing on him like a wildcat in heat?

Your best option has to be a quick escape; hand on the door handle you practically yell, “Okay, bye!”

“Wait!” Tim looks confused that you didn’t meet him halfway for a goodbye kiss as you normally would, but he smiles indulgently at your slightly frazzled behaviour.  It’s early and you didn’t get much sleep last night, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Avoiding eye contact, you feign patting your pockets and looking in your purse, “No, I’m good!  Thanks, babe!”  You’ve almost got the handle pressed all the way down when you hear Tim’s voice closing in behind you, “Are you sure?”

Shoot.

You turn and put on a tight smile, trying not to look into the eyes of your stupidly dreamy boyfriend, but where can you look?  Where can you look?  Not that solid wall of muscle that’s close to caging you in, that’s for sure.  You can’t even look at Tim’s jaw because that adorable patchy spot in the scruff on his left side always melts you into a puddle of goo.  You say to his forehead, “Yeah, I’m sure, why?”

“Just seems like you might be forgetting a thing or two, gorgeous,” Tim smirks, but if you would meet them, you’d see that his eyes are starting to worry.

“I really should go, Tim,” you say with a sympathetic tilt of your head, “I can’t be late for this meeting.”

He has you trapped, your back pressed against the door, but Tim isn’t leaning in; he’s sure by now that you’re not kissing him on purpose, but he has no idea why.  Not wanting to force anything upon you, he just waits – giving you some time in case you change your mind.

After about twenty seconds of silence, you nearly squeak, “Tim?  I have to go to work.”

With a furrowed brow, Tim steps back to allow you to open the door for your getaway, “Okay, love you, Shutterbug.”

You nod as you slip out, “Okay!  Talk to you later.”

Now Tim is straight up flabbergasted – he catches the front door before it closes and calls after your retreating figure, “Baby, I love you!”

You turn around and actually give him a thumbs up?!  He’s about to leave the apartment half naked to come after you and ask what’s wrong when he sees you slide into the elevator right before the doors close.

What the hell was that?

---

In the elevator you exhale the ridiculously loud breath you’ve been holding and slump against the wall.

[7:38 am] Total fail, girls.  That was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do and Tim had no reaction at all!

---

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Tim absentmindedly taps his pencil against the edge of his desk, the repetitive noise echoing off his office walls and into the bullpen.  It was a habit he picked up a long time ago, and everyone at the precinct knew that if they heard that sound coming out of Detective Rockford’s office, it meant something had him stumped.

Your odd behaviour this morning has been on Tim’s mind all day.  He can’t for the life of him figure out why you didn’t want to kiss him goodbye.  Other than being a little harried, nothing seemed out of the ordinary with your exit this morning – your words were sweet and cheerful, you didn’t seem stressed about your meeting.  Was it his morning breath?  No, he had just brushed his teeth.  And even if it was your breath that prevented you from kissing him, it didn’t explain why you wouldn’t say “I love you.”  Normally so generous with your adulation and words of affection, he’s finding the change in your manner this morning to so off putting he can barely concentrate on police work.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Had he done something?  Surely you would have said; it wasn’t like you to play mind games.  And even if he had, when would he have done it?  The two of you had gone to sleep the night before perfectly content; Tim didn’t want to toot his own horn but you seemed more than sated after your three orgasms.  To add to his confusion, you’ve been texting him all day long like you always do, like nothing was wrong at all.

Cheerful texts announce when you got out of your meetings, then a sad picture of the muffin you accidentally dropped on the ground, followed by one of the much better cookie you got to replace it.  You send suggestions and ask him what he wants to have for dinner.  The funny comic panel from Instagram that you screenshot for him makes him laugh out loud.  Your messages say that you miss him and look forward to seeing him at home.  Tim answers them all as normally as he can without showing his growing skepticism.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Detective Rockford’s impressive solve rate is no match for this particular mystery.  What the hell was going on?  Tim suddenly recalls something his former captain and mentor had said to him once:  When you have conflicting pieces of intel, try to separate out the irrefutable.

Okay.  The only reason that you would refuse to kiss him or say ‘I love you’ would be if you didn’t want to.  And if you didn’t want to, it must be because you were unhappy with him.  For something.  It didn’t matter if you acted like nothing was wrong all day or he couldn’t figure out what he had done, it was irrefutable that he had made you unhappy.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

---

You get home a few hours before Tim and have most of dinner prepped before he’s due to arrive, so you decide to take a quick shower to wash off your work day.  Wrapped in the fluffy hotel-grade bathrobe that Tim had in fact purchased for you from the hotel the two of you stayed at on your trip to New York, you pad back into the kitchen humming to yourself.  You’re just thinking you’ll pop dinner in the oven when you’re surprised by your sweet boyfriend only just returned, gun holster still snug against his tight shoulders, waiting for you behind the kitchen island; big hands holding open the lid to a box of scrumptious looking macarons.

“Tim!” you exclaim, surprise and delighted, “You’re home early, baby!  What’s this?”

He looks sheepishly at you, “They’re ‘I’m sorry’ macarons.”

You look at him confused, “What are you sorry for?”

“I DON’T KNOW,” he practically howls, looking like he’s at the end of his rope.

You rush over and throw your arms around your hulk of a man and pull him close, running your hands over his broad back in what you hope is a soothing enough manner, “Tim, baby, tell me what’s going on.”

Tim’s face remains buried in your neck, inhaling the soft smell of your body wash as he sinks every part of himself that he can, his face, his hands, his chest into your soft cotton clad body, “I’m sorry, Shutterbug.  I’m sorry for what I did to make you mad, and I’m sorry I couldn’t figure out what it was.”

Running a hand up to cradle Tim’s head, you’re so confused, but wait until his expansive body relaxes a bit against yours before pulling away a little so you can look at Tim’s distraught face, “Baby, I’m not mad at you.”

He studies the bewildered but sincere expression on your face and believes your confusion to be genuine, but that only adds to his own, “But you didn’t want to kiss me goodbye this morning, and you refused to say ‘I love you’ back.”

The sharp gasping sound you make is so startling it causes Tim to step back from you and he watches as your eyes widen in shock and your hands fly to cover your mouth in disbelief.  Then just as quickly, you launch yourself at him and press a flurry of soft kisses all over his face, his mouth, his neck, “Baby!  I’m the one who needs to be sorry!! It was just a silly TikTok trend!  You didn’t do anything wrong and I’m not mad at you!!  I’m so, so sorry you thought that!”

Tim comforts you with a gentle squeeze of your waist - you look beside yourself and ready to cry, but he still doesn’t understand, “TikTok trend?”

Grabbing your phone from the counter, you scroll to the videos in the chat you were watching last night and show them to him.  When Tim’s done watching the fourth video, he looks back at you chewing your lip adorably, worried, “So you’re not mad at me?  You just wanted to see what my reaction would be if you didn’t kiss me goodbye or say ‘I love you’ before you left?”

You look so small nodding up at him, “I’m sorry, Tim.  I didn’t know you would take it so seriously.  I actually thought it barely registered.  I never dreamed it would bother you.”

Now it’s Tim’s turn to be reassuring; stroking your cheek with two of his thick fingers, he tilts his head and smiles, “The woman I love more than anything suddenly won’t say she loves me or kiss me and it’s not supposed to bother me?”

“Oh Tim!” You fly into his open arms, lips crashing into Tim’s with a force that nearly sends him tumbling backwards.  Tim devours you with hunger and relief, so elated that rift he had imagined all day between the two of you turned out to be nonexistent.  You chase your deep and passionate kisses with light butterfly ones that map the entirety of his jaw and neck, fingers unbuttoning his dress shirt franticly to clear the path to his chest for your worshipping mouth.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you murmur against his skin, making up for the times you held back these same words this morning.

“I love you too, Shutterbug,” Tim hums, hands roaming down your back; dipping low to grab and knead the plush globes of your ass.

Breaking away, you slip your hands under the firm leather straps of Tim’s holster and walk backwards, pulling him along with a shy smile, “Come, Detective.  Let me make things up to you.”  Tim would follow you anywhere, so happy to have you back, even though he never really lost you at all.  He moves in a daze as you lead him over to the living room couch, directing him to sit before you sink down to your knees like a dream between his wide spread legs. 

Quickly undoing Tim’s belt and pants, you look up at your handsome boyfriend with big doe eyes, pleading with him to give you what you want; unable to ever deny you even if he ever wanted to (which he never did), Tim lifts his hips slightly and helps you slide his pants and boxes down his thick thighs, his already semi-hard cock bouncing out and slapping against the buttons of his dress shirt.

You lick your lips at the sight of Tim’s beautiful, girthy cock, head already swollen and weeping for you.  Reaching out to give him a few tentative strokes with your hand, you angle the tip towards your mouth and kitten lick Tim’s slit until his whole chest rumbles above you. 

Smiling to yourself when you see Tim’s eyes close at your efforts, you lick several long fat stripes from balls to tip, following the ridges of the thick vein that run along the underside of Tim’s length before happily taking him in your warm mouth.  At Tim’s low throaty moans, you slowly sink your face closer and closer to the grey peppered hair at his base, taking in more and more of Tim’s throbbing cock while stretching your lips as wide as they can in order to accommodate his impressive girth.  Hands covering what still remains after your mouth is stuffed full, you start to bob your head rhythmically; spit leaks out of your overstuffed mouth and drips down Tim’s dick, making it shiny and easier for your small hands to pump.  The slick, wet sounds of your mouth and hands working in tandem have you dripping in your robe, desperate pussy clenching around nothing.

“Baby,” Tim’s hands cup the side of your face and gently guide you so you come off of him with a pop.  Not sure how it’s even possible, he gets even harder at the sight of your blow out eyes and messy mouth, hands still working him lazily as you gaze at him, already cock drunk.  Tim’s other hand reaches forward to pull at the lapel of your robe, “Want to see them.”

Knowing what he wants, you gladly shrug open your bathrobe, letting the fabric loll off your shoulders and pull open the front so that your bare breasts spill out for Tim to ogle.  Tim groans as he watches you wipe the drool from you face and spread it over your chest, rubbing your mess into your supple skin as you grope and play with your seductive curves.

“Do you want to fuck my tits, Detective Rockford?” you coo.  Tim’s eyes snap open at your dirty offer, nodding eagerly, mouth agape.

Shuffling closer until you’re pressed up right against the couch, you reach for Tim’s cock, already standing at attention, practically saluting and ready to nestle in between your pillowy soft breasts.  Dribbling a little more spit onto his dick, you use your hands to lube him up before gently placing him in the valley of your breasts.  Once you have him where you want him, you flash Tim a sultry smile and use your hands to press your boobs together, squishing them so closely that the bulbous head of Tim’s cock nearly disappears.

“Oh baby, your tits are so pretty,” moans Tim, unable to peel his eyes away from your chest.

“Thank you, Tim,” you purr politely, starting to move yourself up and down, stroking him with every bounce.  Keeping up a comfortable pace, you keep your eyes down, mesmerized by how hot Tim’s gorgeous dick looks sliding through the snug fitting opening between your tits – the very sight has you gushing.

“Fuckkkkk, that feels so good, baby,” he chokes out. Tim worships your breasts; normally unable to keep his hands off of them, he loves groping and manhandling your plush curves with his big, rough hands, and rolling and playing with your nipples until they’re hard and pointy.  But watching you use your delicate hands to press and hold your tits together, up and out so that the tight and deep valley in between hugs his cock oh so perfectly is unlocking something new and feral within him. 

“Let me fuck ‘em, please, gorgeous,” he practically growls; when your response is to stop your movements and slobber more spit down onto his cock before smiling back at him with a wide-eyed look of innocence, Tim’s hips start moving of their own accord, bucking wild and furious.

“Oh yes, Tim, fuck my tits just like that,” you whine; Tim is driving his cock up between your breasts with such vigor that your whole body is being jostled despite your best attempts to hold still for him.  The top of your robe has long since fallen off your body, but the sash remains tied tight around your waist so that the lower hem remains floating over your thighs; the opening at the bottom starts to open of its own volition from all the movement and the luxurious piping in the hem catches on your clit so deliciously that you scream.  You start to meet Tim’s every upwards thrust with a little downwards bounce so that you can rub against your robe, chasing after that mind-numbing friction; with your added efforts, Tim’s cock nearly hits your lips with every pass between your tits.  Smiling to yourself, you tilt your head down so that the next time Tim pushes up, you press down and give his tip a little kiss.

Tim’s body shudders and he nearly loses his rhythm.  You do this over and over, kissing his swollen head with the gentlest of pecks every time Tim’s cock breaches the tight cavern between your breasts and pokes out to meet your affectionate mouth.

Tim’s low baritone groans and huffs are getting huskier and faster, “Fuck baby, wanna finish inside you.” 

“Yes, please, baby, need you in me,” you cry as you scramble off your knees and climb onto Tim’s lap.  The debauched feeling of having Tim fuck your tits plus the heady sensation of rubbing your robe’s hem against your pussy has you so close already - you’re sopping wet and needy.

You sink down on Tim’s angry cock and slip your fingers under the shoulder straps of Tim’s gun holster as Tim immediately starts to punch up into you; holding on to the supple leather for dear life as he fucks you like his personal fuck doll, you throw you head back and wail how good he makes you feel.  Your tits bounce in Tim’s face and he thinks about how they looked minutes ago wrapped around his cock and he’s ready to explode, “Gonna come, Shutterbug.  Fuck, come with me, baby.”

Tim reaches down between your bodies and applies the perfect pressure against your slippery clit, barely completing one rotation of his rough thumb before you seize and clench down on him.  Your loud cries of his name taper to a soft, desperate mewling as he fucks you through it, chasing his own high.

“Give me your cum, Detective,” you plead as you continue to pull against the leather straps that border his broad frame, “Fill me up, Tim.”

He shoots his load deep in your cunt at these words, willingly obeying your filthy command.  Not only would Tim never deny you anything, he would readily do anything, give you anything your heart desired.  Your happiness and well being are all that matter to him – he comes hard and with the assuredness of a man that knows his earlier concerns of having made you unhappy were completely unfounded.  All is as it should be once again.

Coming down from your high, you release your death grip on Tim’s holster straps and wrap your arms loosely around his neck, smiling at him affectionately, “Am I forgiven, Detective?”

Even if he wasn’t still inside your warm cunt or your perfect tits weren’t sitting right below his chin close enough to lick, Tim’s answer would be the same, “There’s nothing to forgive, Shutterbug.”  

Eyes soft and full of love, you hold Tim’s gaze as you affirm for him again, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”  Each declaration of your feelings is accompanied by a corresponding press of your lips to his.  “I promise I’ll never do that to you again, Tim.  I’m going to kiss you and tell you I love you until you’re sick of it.”

“Never going to happen, Shutterbug.”

---

Afterwards, when the two are you are enjoying the ‘I’m sorry’ macarons that you giddily photographed, swapping cookies between bites so you can each try every flavour, you chew thoughtfully, “You know, this whole thing could have been avoided if you’d just get TikTok.”

You’re only joking of course, but your jaw drops when Tim holds his phone out to you, “Okay, Shutterbug.”

Eyes widening, you’re in disbelief, “Really?”

Tim grins devilishly and retracts his hand, “No, not really.  I don’t want to send you TikToks, baby.  I rather like the love language we have already.”  And with that he snatches the last bite of the lavender macaron from your fingers with his mouth and presses his lips to yours for the sweetest kiss you could ever ask for.

[theblacklewinsky]

Note: i feel so good from the traction I got from the last post 🥹 y'all r angels. here's the part 2 you were looking for, boo! @avoidthings 💗

JADED | AARON PIERRE

Part 2.

Toxic!Terry Richmond x Black!Female Reader.

warnings: MNDI!! this story is 18+ with depictions of but not limited to; sexual content ( penetrat!on, orgasm denial), extreme language (cursing, use of n-word, use of b-word), talking you through it. lil bit of exhibitionism if you squint, mild daddy k!nk.

summary: in which you decide to end the toxic situation-ship you share with Terry— except this man only know how to suck you back in.

baby, we can fuck inside my truck, shit wide body.

knew i'd be hurt to see if you leave, but god got me.

Choked out heavy sighs slipped past your lips as you lay in the backseat, just how he liked you; folded up. He had your meaty thighs pinned back, your arms wrapped around them comfortably, holding yourself open for Terry. He'd just got you back there, in that position and he was already inside of you. Gazing down at you with soft eyes, he said nothing at first, his thumb and pointer finger lazily pulling and pinching at your already sensitive buds.

His fingers continued tweak with your nipples, manipulating them anyway he seen fit as his short, hypnotizing strokes seemed to get deeper, fester, mind dizzying. "Oh my god, daddy!" You whined, eyes going crossed as he found that spot again. That same spot his fingers were so easy to find, his dick had no problem as well. Stars danced behind your eyes as you zoned in on that pleasure, face beautifully frowned as you held onto your thighs tightly, acrylic nails digging into your own flesh. You felt everything, from him tweaking with your nipples down to the slight burn from how he stretched you. You were wet, he had you so wet, the slick sounds of your pussy filled the car, lewd and loud.

Terry nodded above you, eyes trained on you, face stoic, as if fucking you on a Thursday night in the parking lot of an apartment complex was a normality at this point. "Yeah, you feel that shit baby?" He mumbled pulling his left hand from your nipple and using his thumb to rub your clit in quick lazy circles, the squelching and gushing sounds of your pussy didn't do anything to help out how incredibly brainless you'd felt already. "Mm-mm," he hummed abruptly pulling his right hand down away from your nipple slapping his hand against your cheek firmly, "bring yo' ass back here. Ain't no zonin' out, bitch. Come back'ere."

The slaps seemed to bring you back, just barely, but it didn't dull the overwhelming amount of pleasure you were experiencing. Your breath seemed to hitch in your throat, you wanted to moan, you wanted to scream but everything was too good in this moment. Terry seemed to not take notice of this, or simply not care because this didn't deter him from his already breath shattering strokes, instead he placed his left hand on the back of your thigh, pushing down, steadying himself on his knees as he plowed down into you. The sound of his thighs clapping steadily against your ass was enough to draw the breaths out of you. He was bottoming out. He had to feel how you clenched and creamed around him, he had to know he was damn near touching your stomach.

"Shit!" You squealed out, hands abruptly shooting out to press back against his thighs, deter him a little, get him to show you some kind of mercy. Your head was mere centimeters from slamming against the door handle.

His right hand slid from your cheek around to the back of your neck until you could feel his fingers tangling in the root of your curls at the back of your head, bringing your head forward to watch his lewd deep strokes. "Look at that shit, look at the mess that pussy makin' on my dick," he spoke through heavy breaths, his own soft groans following, "sayin' you don't miss daddy, that pussy missed me plenty though." You faintly followed the scene as your own moans drowned out the rest of his dirty words. You had him covered in cream, pussy squelching and queefing with every following stroke.

The trembling in your legs only seemed to intensify as he continued his assault on your pussy. "Daddy!" You huffed through a moan, eyes lowered and brows furrowed together you looked up at the man above you, his expression mirroring yours almost mocking. "I know you feel that!" You gasped the tightening in your stomach bubbling to the surface once again. He had you on the brink for the second time that night. He groaned in response to that, how your pussy had started to clench around him, gripping him, sucking him in.

"I feel it, baby," he cooed, fingers still tangled in your unruly curls he leaned down peppering sloppy kisses against the corner of your agape mouth, "daddy feel that pussy squeezin' me, good ass pussy." He commented breathlessly, a deep growl from his throat following, only earning more drawn out moans from you.

"You wanna cum for daddy?" He asked you, lips pressed against your ear. "I feel that shit in yo' legs you wanna cum." He teased feeling you nod vigorously against his face. "Yeah, you do baby," he hummed softly, "but you bet not cum."

You whined as his strokes didn't relent. He had denied you for the second time that night. You better not cum, yet he kept fucking you like he wanted you to. Like he dared you. You couldn't keep holding it, the pleasure was too overwhelming. He was digging as deep as he could've gotten in you. Everything he gathered from you, was messily painted on his dick.

"Fuck!" A deep groan came from your tummy, tumbling out of your mouth in a curse. Your eyes had rolled back once again, as he fucked you stupid. Your mouth hung open as he continued slamming into you, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix so tenderly. "I–I can't keep holdin it!" You stammered, voice slurred and high pitched.

Terry groaned in response, cursing quietly about how tightly you gripped him. "You can," he audibly responded, "just like you can take yo' ass on them dates." He stopped momentarily and earning a needy and eager whine from you. He sat up on his knees, dick still deliciously deep inside of you, he untangled his hand from your frizzy curls and instead fisting your rolled up tank top in his hand for leverage as he fucked himself into you once more. His free hand managed to find itself around your neck, squeezing firmly enough to make you gasp, just a little bit.

It wasn't like you could breathe anyway, there he was fucking the breath out of you once again. Your eyes watery as you held eye contact with him once again, your toes curled into a ball, mouth still agape, drool pooling there. You were fucked out, just how he liked you. Dumb and needy. The sight alone was enough to bring him closer to his nut. But he could never get his before you got yours. Taking care of his bitch was always his number one priority. He prided himself on making sure you got off first.

"Goin' out with them lame ass niggas, makin' them think they got a chance to fuck my bitch," he breathlessly mumbled to you, the sounds of your skin clapping together almost drowning the side of his deep, quiet voice.

"No!" Was the only thing you could force out, the tears brewing in your eyes finally spilling at once. You didn't know why you said no, were you letting him know them niggas never had a chance or were you tryna stop yourself from cumming all over his dick like how you wanted to, so badly.

It seemed to do the job for both.

"I know baby," he nodded curtly, "i know you daddy's bitch. I know you belong to me. Look at that pussy, wanna cum so bad. You wanna cum so bad, don't you pretty girl?"

"So pretty when you all fucked up and fucked out."

You nodded vigorously you were past the point of pleasure, you were somewhere floating, you couldn't feel solid ground beneath you if you wanted to. Words were no longer an option for you, he'd stole them many strokes ago.

"Yeah?" He moaned in response, hand squeezing firmer around your neck. "Cum on my dick baby, let me feel that shit. Don't hold back, give me all that shit."

That was all it took for a high pitched scream to come rumbling from your stomach, your eyes found themselves how they loved to be when he was inside of you; crossed. Your hands left your thighs, palms slamming flat against the seat beneath you, your nails scratching against the material. You saw colors you couldn't describe, the tension in your stomach seemingly dispersing right on que. this feeling was lightheaded, unsteady, but so so good.

But he continued on his own journey. Still fucking into you like his life depended on it. Grunting, groaning as he continued to chase his own high, the way you gripped and clenched around him as he fucked you through your orgasm was mind numbing to him. Your shit was way too good. Too good to be free. And if the sight of you getting fucked through your orgasm wasn't enough to get him to fill you up, your broken moans and whimpers sure were enough.

You couldn't take much more of this, pussy thumping as he continued to fuck you. You were completely overstimulated, coming him to cum as best as you could through your shaky, broken dialogue. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chanted repeatedly, a serious if growls and groans rumbling from deep within in his chest spilling out as he rutted into you, he was there. You were too gone in your own head when he finally did fill you up. And fill you up he did. You couldn't hear him when he pulled out either, the only thing you did react to was the soft kisses he delivered to you afterwards.

"Push that shit out, baby, let me see it." He cooed to you, his large hands holding your thighs in place, you whimpered but obliged to what he said anyways, gently pushing out what he dumped into you moments earlier. "You such a nasty bitch," he murmured in a trance like state watching his seed leak out of you, peppering sweet, gentle kisses where he could on your face, contrary to the merciless strokes he was just giving to you.

The next few moments you took to try and steady yourself, bring you back to earth somehow. This nigga had fucked you into another dimension you were convinced. You were able to ground yourself once he got out, searching the bed of the pickup to find something to clean you up with.

You sighed once you were able to come back to, chest heaving, hair unruly, and your panties and shorts strewn about his truck. I'm such a dumb bitch.



-

feral for mr. pierre. second part of many fics of him to come 😭 xx.

[luvryeo]

✧ too tired — kang yeosang

afab!reader , gn!reader , smut & fluff , cw : very light sub/dom themes but it's really just yeosang taking care of reader who's sleepy (and horny) as hell, fingering, clit play, light praise , wc : 1.3K , MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI — also my first time writing smut so uhhhh lmk if it doesn't (or does) suck LOL

you're tired. normally, when you're tired, you go to sleep. 

but you happen to be oh so horny. and normally, when you're oh so horny, you take care of yourself. but the knowledge that yeosang, for once, is just a room away in the shower and will come to fall asleep with you any minute is keeping your hands outside of your sweats, rather than stuck inside your panties.

so, you play the waiting game, wherein each moment curled up in bed alone causes your panties to grow just a little stickier and your clit to beg more and more to be touched, it's throbbing driving you nearly insane. you're just too tired to do anything but rest your hand over your covered cunt and let out a quiet whine.

by some miracle, you survive until the door cracks open, letting a sliver of light stream into your darkened room.

“baby?” his voice sends a mountain of different feelings through you, mostly want in all its different forms. you want him close, holding you tight and lulling you into sweet dreams. but first, you want his fingers, you want him to tug down your pajama pants and gently slide his hand into your underwear to rub your clit and let you cum then let you fall asleep in his arms.

but you don’t say a word, only letting out a soft grunt to let him know you’re tucked away in the bed.

the way he slips in behind you causes the odd feeling of both relief and increasing desperation. his bare arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close and drawing a soft whine from your lips.

“mmm, what’s wrong, love?” he whispers in your ear.

you’re both shameless and bashful in your sleepy state, ready to beg him for relief. “please, sangie. i’m so tired, but i need you, please.”

unbeknownst to you, his face flushes at your words, but you’re just so endearing and sweet he doesn’t care. he just can’t tell whether to oblige you to tease you.

“i’m right here,” he hushes, still not really sure if you want him in you or if you’re just tired and need him to hold you.

“no, sang, i need your fingers, please.” the way your voice is so breathy and quiet has him going insane, and god, he just thinks it’s too cute.

“yeah, baby?” 

you just nod, wiggling your hips due to the uncomfort between your legs.

“you’re so sleepy aren’t you?” he says, mostly to himself. “i’ve got you.” and with that he lets his hand wander to meet yours, where it still presses against your clothed core. “move your hand for me,” he tells you softly. normally he’s not too talkative, but he knows that in your tired state, you need just a bit more guidance and reassurance than usual. he’s missed you so much, and he’s more than happy to give you exactly what you want.

you oblige and move your hand, and immediately whine at the feeling of his hand where yours once was. he almost coos at you, fully aware of what a mess you’ll become within seconds of his hand inside your pants.

“please,” you whisper.

“i know, i know,” he reasures. “i’m here. i’ll make you feel good, i promise.” so he removes his hand and grabs your hips, shifting your position so you lay in between his legs, your back resting on his shirtless chest. his fingers are cold when they slip under your tank top and hit the skin of your midriff, but you couldn’t care less, because the next second his hand has climbed under your pants. he caresses your thigh lightly and kisses your neck sweetly, and you sigh at his touch. before you can beg him again to put his fingers where you really need them, he begins to trace along your slit over your underwear. he can feel you relax into him as he notes the wet spot of your panties and the shudder that runs through your body when he brushes past your clit. gently, he spends several moments just rubbing you softly through the wet cloth, taking in the quiet, desperate huffs of breath you let out.

“gonna take these off you,” he warns before removing his hand and helping you pull your pants and underwear all the way off your legs. you squirm as the cold air hits your cunt, unable to wait for the feeling of his hand over you. “shhhh, love.”

he doesn’t make you wait long, letting his fingers gather some of the wetness of your core while his other hand roams your upper body under your shirt. he rubs the wetness into your clit and you sigh in utter relief. it only takes seconds for quiet whines to come tumbling out of your mouth, and his lips meet the skin of your neck and shoulder once again. he basks in the way the tight circles he rubs over your swollen bud brings out a babble of his name mixed with incoherent moans.

even better are the tears that appear in your droopy eyes when he works a long digit inside your pussy. you cry out at the feeling and the moment he adds a second finger, the tears are spilling out onto your cheeks and quiet sobs escape your throat.

“oh, you pretty thing, i know, i know,” he comforts, the heel of his hand still hitting your clit as he works his fingers inside your pussy. the sounds of your cunt are audible even over your cries.

“wanna cum,” you beg as the knot in your stomach tightens.

“i know, baby. you can cum whenever you want. such a good little thing for me, aren’t you?”

you whine loudly, nodding desperately for approval. when he moves his other hand to rub harder on your clit, it’s everything you need to let go. the tears fall harder as your back arches. your thighs tremble and the walls of your pussy flutter then clench around yeosang’s fingers as he guides you through your orgasm. finally, you slump against him and your cum leaks out around his fingers as he stills the movements in your wetness. you shudder when he gently pulls his fingers out of you.

“there you go,” he praises. haphazardly, he wipes off his shining fingers and shifts your bodies again so he can get up.

“don’t go,” you whisper hoarsely, missing his warmth already.

“i’ll be right back, gotta get you cleaned up and then you can fall asleep, okay? stay with me until then, yeah?”

“mhmm…what about you, sang?”

“shh, i'll take care of myself, okay? just be patient,” he reassures.

you try your best to head yeosang’s instructions, but you must have failed, for you wake up to the gentle touch of a warm, slightly damp towel between your legs.

you make the attempt to mumble something, maybe an apology for falling asleep, but yeosang just hushes you and brushes a hand over your head. he tosses the towel in the laundry once done and pulls a new pair of sweatpants up your legs, then climbs in bed. pulling you close, he tilts your head up to wipe the dried tears from your face with your favorite face rag. his touch is as gentle as ever, lulling you into a state of half-conscious bliss.

finally, you’re all warm and clean to his satisfaction, so he plants a kiss to your lips and tucks your head into his chest.

“thank you, love,” you whisper.

“of course. good night, babe,” you can hear the tiredness mixed with the tender love he feels within his deep voice and smile into his chest.

“good night, sang.”

[melodiousmonsters]

Hey guys sorry for not posting for like, what has it been two weeks? Anyway I was very preoccupied, not with that wiki thing, got kinda bored of that, sorry. But god damn I hate drawing fur like that. It sucks. Anyway these are kinda rushed and not well rushed so sorry. Like I didn't even do my thing of drawing the element sigial. Again so sorry I hope I get better with wanting to work on these, also write for these there's like 5 paragraphs and that's it.

Ghazt(Felaspira Ghazt) average about 9 feet snout to the ambiguous end of the tail. They are made to sneak around, that's how they live. SLeek, made of fluid-like plasma, and slight camouflage from being translucent. They can also slip into the space between the pocket dimension and prime reality of the monster world. They have a very limited sense of interdimensional orientation, they can tell where they are when they are in the monster world's dimension. But they can't tell where they are in the multiverse though.

They have things that look like ears, but their ears are on the sides of their heads as exposed ear drums, so what are the pointy things? Well those are sensory organs that detect where they are in the monster world. Some call them horns, some ears, but the most accurate term is a dimensional tragus.

Ghazt can live anywhere, but tend to have individual preferences that tend to lean towards dryer places, they don’t like water. They hunt any small critter, but prefer dimension rend rats, strange critters that are able to tear reality’s fabric and feed off it. Because of their prey, Ghazt are integral to the stability of the multiverse.

Variants

Green Ghazt have three pairs of limbs, they evolved to better live on plant island. Their limbs are used to navigate rather than the common’s habit of flying, which would often result in collisions with the lush plant life.

Horned Ghazt are red and they have horns and bones. Ghazt have a similar elemental signature to Xysters, and it seems that Horned Ghazt have similar morphological traits to them, like the bones and horns. The horns do cause some complications with dimensional travel, so they often eat simple worldly critters.

No babies this time. Sorry for that too. most of this has been apologizing and I'm also sorry for that just to make the problem worse. They are also just like, big kittens fyi if you want to imagine things.

[sluttywonwoo]

inexperienced dk eating your pussy for the first time and him not expecting that he would be as good as he is and you’re literally biting down on part of the blanket that’s next to you guys and gripping his hair cuz u have to be quiet bc the guys are in the living room but he’s just doing SO good

seokmin’s nervous, that much you can tell. you’d been making out on his bed when he quietly asked if he could eat you out. you hadn’t gone that far with him yet so you were surprised that he suggested it, but excited nonetheless.

“can i take your shorts off?” he asks, playing with the hem of one of the legs.

“sure, baby,” you breathe out and lift your hips off the bed so that he can easily slide them off of you.

“this too?” he asks again. “sorry, probably should’ve done both at the same time.”

you giggle and lift up again as he slips your underwear off and places them on top of your shorts next to you on the bed. you’re completely naked from the waist down now, and you can’t help but feel a little self conscious as seokmin stares down at you.

you know he’s watched porn, know that he’s fingered an ex-girlfriend a couple of time, but this is different. he’s face to face with your cunt— and for some weird reason you want to make a good impression.

seokmin gulps. “can i?”

“go ahead,” you say, nodding. “do whatever you want.”

it’s as if you say the magic words because as soon as they leave your mouth, his is on you, tongue delving between your folds. you can feel him everywhere, eagerly exploring your pussy like he’ll never get another chance to.

you moan seokmin’s name and try to arch off the bed but he’s holding you down with both of his hands on your hips, palms splayed across your stomach beneath your t-shirt.

he pauses all of the sudden like he’s forgotten something and lifts his head from in between your legs. you raise your eyebrows in question but seokmin ignores you, spitting on your cunt without acknowledging you.

“fuck, are you sure you’ve never done this before? where’d you even learn that?” you gasp.

seokmin shrugs. “i dunno, felt right.”

his non-answer tells you he definitely learned it from porn but you don’t have the heart to call him out on it, mostly because it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

he lowers his head again and gets back to work before you can respond anyway. your hands fly to his hair when his tongue finds your clit and you pull, hard. seokmin moans against you, mumbling something incoherent into your pussy. he’s still fully clothed, but you see him grind into the mattress, apparently just as turned on by this as you are. 

“feels so fucking good,” you tell him, wanting to praise him and let him know how much you’re enjoying it.

he hums in appreciation and you whine, trying to push yourself further into his face. your eyes roll to the back of your head as he draws little hearts on your clit with his tongue, your resolve falling apart at the seams. you had wanted to guide him through his first time, let him take it slow, but he’s the one leading now and all you can do is lay there and take it as you fall apart beneath him.

“fuck, yeah, just like that,” you pant loudly, only to be reminded that seokmin’s roommates are right outside in the living room when he pops up to shush you. “sorry…”

he brushes off your apology with a shake of his head and grins at you. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile so brightly before— and that’s saying a lot.

“s’okay, baby. i know you can’t help it.”

you shrink into yourself at that, trying to close your thighs and shy away from him, but seokmin won’t have any of it. the smile falls from his face and he frowns, putting a hand on each of your knees to pry your legs apart.

“i wasn’t finished,” he says pointedly. “unless you want me to be?”

“no…”

“thank god, because you taste so fucking good.”

you whimper quietly in embarrassment (and horniness) but take the corner of his comforter in your mouth to muffle your moans and give him the green light to continue with a nudge of your knee.

“atta girl.”

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Mordent

Chapter Eighteen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam, Billie

Word Count: 2880ish

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, this turned into more of a brother chapter than I originally intended, talk of tattoos and body mods, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

Dean walked out of the studio with a cassette recording of their album, a CD and a thumb drive. He always asked for it to be playable in the impala and Ash always came through. The other options were for Bobby and Sam, respectively. Sam would send the files to everyone else. It was finished, set to be released while they were on tour, with the label’s stamp of approval and all. ‘Waysides and Regrets’ was thirteen songs packed with everything they could pour into them.

"Don’t call it a comeback,” Dean muttered to himself as he slipped into the driver’s seat and popped the cassette into the deck. The opening to Rupture ripped through the speakers and Dean cackled at hearing it like a civilian. He drummed along with Pam on the steering wheel as he turned out of the parking lot, saluting the guard at the gate as he went. 

He listened to it all before going back home. Rupture bled into Pushing Through which mellowed out to the subdued Brothers Keeper. Then they cranked it back up with Route 666, which slid into the angsty Prophet and Loss that showcased just why Kevin was Cas’ replacement (musically at least). Beyond the Mat and Goodbye Stranger were two sides of the same coin, introspective but in different tones, soulful and combative respectively. Then there was the first single, Annie’s duet, Baby, which Dean unabashedly wrote about his car, but as if she were real and he could thank her and praise her for everything she meant to him. He sang out loud with every word of that song as he cruised faceless side streets letting the music wash over him. 

Everybody Loves A Clown, Except Sam was supposed to be a joke track, but they got carried away with it and it actually was one of the funnest songs to play for Dean, and Kevin going full calliope for the chorus was totally worth it.  Gods and Monsters was fueled by Dean’s inner rage and where his anger came from, also known as John Winchester and his own self worth issues. Missouri had a field day when he sent her those lyrics. Then there was Lee’s track which Dean helped merely tweak some lines, Give Me My Axe: An Executioner’s Song. It was even better with the windows down and the road disappearing beneath his tires. The final track was an anthem, not quite what the kids would call a banger, but celebratory enough to be the potential second single from the album. It’s about the weekend Dean finally came up for air, when Sam holed him up at Bobby’s cabin in Tahoe and they had his come-to-Jesus intervention thing. It’s about letting go and letting your people catch you, aptly named Weekend at Bobby’s. It turned out better than Dean could have hoped.

He turned into the canyon when the bonus tracks started, knowing the album was drawing to a close and wanting Sam to hear it before he got too emotional about it. The house was quiet when he walked in, the coffee still in the pot, but Sam’s rinsed-out smoothie blender upside down in the sink. Dean found Sam outside, despite the cooler air, going through his yoga routine. 

Dean teased Sam about a lot of things, but it held little venom with the things that brought Sam well-being. 

“Hey, mop-head, got the album when you’re ready,” Dean called from the doors off the kitchen.

Sam exhaled and smiled, eyes closed in concentration. Dean didn’t know how he did it, but he understood sometimes other senses just get in the way of an experience, almost like they try to crowd it or consume it because it’s not about them.

“Gimme like ten minutes,” Sam replied and shifted into mountain pose. 

“Fair enough.”

Dean left the thumb drive on the counter and made his way into the living room. They had speakers in their jam room, but Dean hadn’t eaten and lunch was sounding better by the second. So he popped the CD into the stereo and paused it with one of the many remotes they’d accumulated through years of technological upgrades. Sam had an app on his phone for half of it, but Dean still favored physically punching buttons to get what he wanted done.

He made his way back into the kitchen and started pulling things out for BLTs. Sam had some tofu-bacon in the drawer and he fried that up too, and if a little of the real grease got on it, it was too bad for Sam. He grabbed a couple of bags of chips from the pantry and then some leftover fruit salad from the fridge to even them out. Life was about balance after all, and having a health nut for a brother and roommate Dean had learned to pick his battles. 

“Hey, that smells amazing,” Sam broke through Dean’s little self-congratulation.

“Yeah, mine does, yours smells like a nursing home cafeteria—- You ready?” Dean asked, holding up the remote with one hand while popping a chip into his mouth with the other.

“Hit it,” Sam agreed, sitting at the counter as Dean slapped his sandwich down in front of him.

They ate and listened, commenting here and there. Sam helped Dean clean up the kitchen and they both gravitated to the couch to finish listening. Dean took out a bowl he kept in an end table and packed it, smoking casually as Sam took in each song, each transition. 

It was one moment, but it was also a hundred others in the years before it. Brothers sitting in comfortable quiet as music spoke to them instead of one another. They were thirteen and nine and Dad had brought home a signed Lyle Lovett album for them to ingest. While neither of them were yet prone to country, it shifted their ideas of just what good music was. They were fifteen and eleven and done enough chores for a trip to Record Town in North Platte where they each got a tape apiece. Dean got Jar of Flies by Alice in Chains while he convinced Sam to get The Downward Spiral by Nine Inch Nails instead of Tori Amos’ Under the Pink. They read every line of production details and lyrics on the pamphlets tucked into the plastic cases. 

Sam came home to find Dean back for the weekend. It was early ‘98 and it felt like everything had turned horrifyingly pop focused. The Prodigy’s Fat of the Land was playing on the boombox Dean had dragged out of Sam’s room as his big brother cleaned the kitchen back to his standards and not Kate’s livable level of clutter. They were waiting to hear if they had a brother or a sister. The only thing said between them was Dean reassuring Sam that he put his Celine Dion CD back in its case. 

They sat in Lee’s dorm room, stoned and drunk, watching as his roommate's computer uploaded their album. It felt like it would take forever, but it was also insane to think that people all over the world could listen to their music. It was full of possibility, but it was also just two brothers and their friends in their habitat, existing together.

“Dude— did you autotune me?!” Sam gaped, chuckling self consciously while listening to his line of the acoustic track of Brothers Keeper.

“Barely. Like nobody’s gonna notice, they’ll be too busy balling their eyes out,” Dean reassured.

“Yeah, like you, huh?”

“Shut up.”

Sam laughed, but let his embarrassment go; the nervous bastard always hated singing which was why he wasn’t as good at it. 

The album reached its end and they started talking about ideas for the tour, things to write down and beg Charlie for like lighting designs or album specific imagery when they hop back into their older stuff. It was almost four when Dean finally got over to Bobby’s with the CD, but he didn't stay for another listen. He let Annie have her moment with Bobby gushing, as much as the geezer could or would gush.

On the way home, you called him squealing with excitement.

“You listen to it already?”

“No! I just got the files from Sam. I guess I shouldn’t have called until I heard it all, huh?”

Dean chuckled. “Maybe. Or maybe you’ll hate it and never want to talk to me again.”

“Ha-ha. But no, seriously, I’m so excited. I’m going to blast it as I meal prep. Do you want my review long hand or can I just call you back and talk your ear off?”

“Whatever you’re willing to give me,” Dean tried for playful.

“Dangerous, Winchester. Okay, well I have like ten more things I have to do now that we have a single. But I’ll be in touch.”

“Sounds good— and thanks.”

“No— thank you.”

Dean hung up and let the fear roll in. You were going to hear it all. Everything he had been through and everything you had helped him overcome. He only hoped you wouldn’t be upset by making a cameo on something so public. Or embarrassed by the way he still needed you. 

Dean promised he’d be on his best behavior. Part of that was putting out fires for the band, to try and help make your job easier. So after the shake up from Kevin and Cas, he called Billie and apologized for his bandmates’ (both past and present) disrespect. She told him he could make it up to her. But there was no way Dean was going under the needle again, last time he even looked at one he almost threw up. But, it just so happened he knew someone who was in the market for some art. 

Unfortunately, that meant Dean would have to tag along.

Billie’s studio was modern and bright, with different colored walls contrasting the silver accents, both mirrors and shelving. From the outside, Reaping Ink was a small sign on a battered street, but inside it felt like walking into an art gallery and not someplace that had hard sharps containers and enough first aid equipment to stock an ambulance on hand.

And the furniture was always so damn comfortable.

The last time Dean had been here was for a memorial tattoo for Jo that you got on your right shoulder. He nearly broke your hand holding it as he tried and failed not to watch your skin be pierced continuously. It was a beautiful tattoo, everything Billie did was masterful. It just wasn’t something Dean wanted to sit through again.

Luckily for everyone, Bela didn’t need Dean to hold her hand. But she did need him as in with Billie, who usually booked appointments six-to-eight months out. 

“Hello, Dean,” Billie’s dark voice called once they walked in, she stood so still and so silently, he hadn’t even noticed her among the cacophony of color in the waiting area.

“Heya Billie, this is Bela,” Dean guided Bela with a hand on the small of her back, the way Billie’s dark eyes clocked the motion made Dean want to step back. Like a nun catching you standing too close to your crush in the hallway. Dean never went to Catholic school, but that feeling of getting caught, of doing wrong was universal.

“Pleasure,” Bela smiled at the artist, while Billie just nodded.

“I have a couple versions for you to pick from, I think I got the gist of what we talked about, but I wanted to be sure on sizing and layout. So come on back and we’ll get started,” Billie went straight into business mode. No whining about Cas’ impulsiveness or speculating on Dean and Bela’s relationship. At least verbally, her eyes held a very different story.

She had three different stencils already cropped and laid out for Bela to see as Bela rucked up her top and rolled down her leggings. It wasn’t a tramp stamp, she was insistent on that, but it was on the back of her right hip, something she could glance at or hold if she needed to. The way she talked about the position of the tattoo, made it seem just as important as the content or the coloring of it.

“Dean?” Bela’s voice drew Dean out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?” 

“Can you take pictures with my phone? Before, during, and after?” Bela handed him her unlocked iphone and he turned it around to focus on her nearly bare back. He took a few shots and gave it back. 

“You’ll want that to distract you, trust me,” Dean assured.

Bela rolled her eyes. “Isn’t that what you’re here for?”

Dean went green. “As long as I don’t have to watch.”

“Really?!” Bela exclaimed and looked over to Billie for confirmation.

“Mmm-hmm, boys one of the worst I’ve seen around needles. No wonder he doesn’t even have his ears pierced.”

“I guess I never noticed—- wouldn’t have thought. Poor thing,” Bela sighed as she settled on her stomach on one of Billie’s many specialty beds. 

“Can we not? I mean, I’m here ain't I?” Dean huffed and pulled out his own phone. You still hadn’t texted him what you thought about the album, but he also knew you were busy, so he didn’t want to rush you or look too desperate.

He felt Bela and Billie have a silent conversation as he pulled up his sudoku app, but ignored them as Billie got the stencil in place, only getting up to snap another picture. Then, they were off. Bela and Billie making small talk about the design, which Dean knew Bela had put a lot of thought into, especially since it would officially tarnish her good girl image. Even in this day and age, most of her fans were in their fifties. A tattoo could rattle the masses. But getting one with Dean seemed like a good compromise of their images.

He was rubbing off on her, so to speak. Well, he hadn’t done that literally since his talk with Sam, but you know.

They sat for an hour and a half and took a break, Dean went to get food and coffee, which he left in the lobby so as not to infringe on Billie’s strict rules. Dean took a couple more pictures and some stupid selfies for Bela to find later. The shop was closed to the public and since Billie’s latest playlist had started over, Dean asked if he could hook up to the bluetooth. 

Billie looked at him appraisingly as it became clear that he was playing his own music during his girlfriend’s appointment. 

“What?”

“You’re either looking for my approval or you’re buttering me up by letting me hear this first. Which is it?” Billie manhandled Bela back into position to get going on the shading.

“I don’t know, man. Both?”

Billie hummed, but didn’t reply.

Dean walked around the studio, looking at the different sets of flash and paintings that covered the walls. He flinched away from the spinning display of rods, tapers, disks, and rings for piercings and stretching. He felt like a waste of space, but mainly because he was never any good with boredom. Being idle in a place he was already uncomfortable, for a plethora of reasons, was akin to torture.

He remembered to breathe.

He checked his phone. He put that back into his pocket. He stole Bela’s phone for a few more pictures, trying not to look directly at her raised, red flesh.

“How’s it going?” Dean asked, after giving Bela her phone back, his album running its course around them.

“I’d say another twenty minutes and then I’ll bandage her up. You good?” Billie asked, surprisingly sincerely.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine. Just curious,” Dean muttered.

“Hey, Dean. I like the music,” Billie said, waiting for him to make eye contact.

“Thanks,” Dean nodded, trying not to let his blush show.

“When’s it coming out?” Bela asked, suddenly reminding Dean why he was there in the first place.

“End of April,” he said. “Single’ll be released week after my birthday.”

Bela paused and looked up at him, but Billie was the one to break the ice.

“Which is?”

“Uh, the 24th. Baby hits your airwaves on the 29th.”

“Is that Annie Hawkins on that track?” Billie asked.

“Yup,” Dean grinned.

“Damn, almost forgot about her. Nice pull,” Billie praised.

Dean chuckled, not explaining his connection. She’d find out eventually, if it even mattered. “Yeah, we got lucky with that one.”

Bela was inked up, wiped down and vacuum sealed over the following half hour. Dean paid for the work, plus a generous tip. And posed for a few promotional shots with Bela and Billie alike. Once everyone was satisfied that what they had would help all involved, Bela and Dean said their goodbyes and thank yous and headed out for a late dinner at Elizabeth’s. 

“Do you want me to send these to you or to Y/N to latergram?” Bela asked as their drinks arrived. 

“Just send ‘em to Trouble. She’ll know what to do with them better than me,” Dean ducked out of the responsibility, unaware he was planting another social media minefield for you to navigate by doing so.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Nineteen: Pizzicato

[carboysandbikemen]

Fernando fucking you in your childhood bedroom? Fernando wanting you to call him daddy the whole entire time? Fernando whispering in your ear that he wants to breed you? I- besties thoughts have been thunk and literally I cannot think of anything else. Head empty, only daddy fernando wanting to corrupt you. Thank y’all SO MUCH for this🥵

Daddy Fernando wont leave our thoughts either! Hope you enjoy some more thoughtssss:

He would so nice and respectful in front of everyone else, acting like the perfect gentleman to win everyone over, and he would. Your family would absolutely love him.

When no-ones looking, he'd run his hand a little lower down your back, making you look up at him as he stands there with an innocent smile on his face. At dinner, he'd casually put his hand on your thigh, making sure no one could see as he draws it up higher whilst talking with everyone normally. Fully expecting you to keep quiet like a good girl for him as he has his fun.

After you've said goodnight to everyone, he'd take some time to walk around your room, teasing you slightly for the things you have in it as you sit there desperately worked up from earlier. He knows though. He can see how much you want him and he takes his time.

He'd eventually come over to you, pushing you gently down onto the bed and telling you that if you're good and quiet for him he will fuck you properly, just like you need.

He would slip his hand down into your pyjamas, capturing your mouth with his to stifle your moans. He'd tell you how wet you are for him, laughing gently as he kisses you.

"What do you want?" He'd ask. He loves making you ask for it, to beg for him, to say it for him.

"Please, I need you to fuck me, I need you inside me." You breathe out.

"I think you're forgetting something, no?"

You'd realise what he wants straight away and you look up at his cocky little grin.

"Fernando." You'd whine, not quite sure what you're trying to say.

"No. Say it."

"They're right next door." You'd try and protest and he grins down at you.

"Whisper it then baby."

He'd tease you with his fingers, waiting for you to say it before he slips them inside you.

"Daddy please." You'd manage.

"Thats my good girl. Shhh. Be quiet and let daddy take care of you."

He'd take his time with you, doing everything he can to make you cry out for him and getting his kicks in knowing you can’t this time. Knowing you have to be quiet but can’t help the small noises coming out of you.

He'd whisper filth to you constantly, asking you who owns your pussy, who can fuck you like you need, whose cock do you crave. You can do nothing but cling to him and whisper 'You daddy.'

"Yeah, thats right baby. You're daddy's perfect little slut. Taking me so well. Keeping so quiet. Letting me breed your tight little pussy. Keeping all quiet for me so no one hears."

You moan a little too loud at his words as he thrusts deeply into you and he grins. "You're going to have to be quieter than that if you want my come inside you."

God do you want it. So you'd keep quiet, just whispering daddy over and over as he uses you.

After, when he pulls out he'd spread your legs to watch some of his come drip out of you onto your childhood bed, smiling at your cheeks colouring as it does.

He'd run his fingers over you, catching it and fucking it back inside you, pulling up your pyjamas and pressing your back into his chest as he holds you knowing you're dripping with his come inside of you.

~

Also have a little fantasy of Nando fingering you under a blanket whilst your friends are in the room that I'm debating writing up because apparently I would let this insane criminal old man do anything to me ~🐝

I think this might’ve been the perfect Nando ask, but feel free to prove me wrong ~🐻

[starsandgutters]

you're writing katekevaaron???

I am! I am not very far into it as of yet, but I do have this scene of them post getting together 💖

2. KateKevAaron

“I actually know the quickest way to make Kevin lose his temper,” Aaron says. “You may think, oh, Aaron, that’s easy. Clearly say something incorrect about exy. Wrong. That would work, yes, but it would be too easy, and depending on who it’s coming from, too transparent. Kevin would know immediately I’m doing it on purpose. I would receive at most mild annoyance for trying.”

“Is it making fun of me? Because I’m not enjoying this.”

Katelyn giggles, giving Kevin a consoling kiss on his cheek that does nothing to clear his scowling expression.

“I’m not making fun of you. I’m proving I know you. This is a symbol of our connection, Kevin. How dare you stick your nose up at that.”

Katelyn presses her knuckles to her lips to try and fight back more laughter. Kevin looks entirely unimpressed by them both.

“So what is it?” Katelyn asks.

“Mention the Disney version of Hercules.”

“Oh, fuck right off. It makes no sense. Right, so they use the Romanised version of Heracles, but then all the gods are referred to by their Greek titles? It’s entirely inconsistent. Not to mention the blatant mischaracterisation. I will accept some variations in the gods. I know the myths were a long-standing oral tradition and there are so many different versions and stories, but Disney fucking ignored them all. Painting Zeus as some loving husband with his little happy family? Hera wanting Hercules back as if he’s not another symbol of Zeus’ infidelity? The blatant Hades slander, and Persephone is just erased for the sake of the plot? It’s bullshit.”

“Wow,” Katelyn says. “You’re right. That was fast.”

“It’s bullshit, Katelyn.”

“I hear ya, babe. I don’t know anything about Greek mythology, but I trust ya.”

“He actually is right on this,” Aaron says.

“Are you saying I’m not right on most things?”

“Yeah, I would never encourage your ego by admitting if you were right about most things.”

“Katelyn, Aaron’s being mean to me.”

“Oh, my poor baby. He is a nasty boy sometimes, isn’t he?” Katelyn holds out her arms. Kevin rests his head against her chest, arms slipping round her waist, looking at Aaron smugly. Aaron smirks. “Just like that villain Hades.”

“Alright-” Kevin draws himself out of her embrace, raising a finger in the air as she and Aaron collapse into giggles.

[queenimmadolla]

just sending you a lil headcanon for waynie baby, i hope that’s ok!

when he’s still in the hospital, he hates having his blood taken and gets really upset about it, eddie notices how much it upsets you so suggests you go check in with penny and he’ll stay and support wayne 🤧

not only is it okay, but I’m gonna expand upon it because you have created art

oh my god, this headcanon has my whole HEART!

Your son’s whimpers turned into wails after the kind nurse had pierced his skin with the needle, those pretty eyes of his squeezed shut and mouth wide open to let the world know he was upset, so much that his little body was shaking with it and his tiny hands were curled in protest. You couldn’t help but cry, feeling helpless even though you were aware this wouldn’t last long nor was it to harm him. But the fact that your baby was crying, essentially screaming for help and you couldn’t do much for him, upset you on levels you couldn’t deal with, you blamed it on your currently out of whack hormones. Eddie had immediately clocked the tears pooling down your cheeks, wiped them away and asked you if you wanted to take Penny (who was staring, petrified, at the nurse as though she’d be her next victim) downstairs to the cafeteria.

You’d readily agreed after he’d reassured you he’d stay with Wayne. Once you and Penny were gone, he’d keep trying to talk to Wayne, despite his wailing drowning him out, cooing softly to sooth him.

“Honey, you’re breaking my heart. I know, I know, it didn’t feel nice. Aw, my poor baby, it’s okay. Daddy’s here, I’ll make the pain go away.” Eddie slipped his finger into the bassinet Wayne had been briefly moved into, finger stroking over his son’s soft cheek. Wayne’s wails died down, breaths hitching as he blinked his eyes open owlishly to stare—squint—up at Eddie.

When the nurse had finished drawing blood, placing a small spot shaped band-aid over the sore spot, she’d offered to let Eddie do some skin-to-skin as an apology to Wayne. He’d fussed a little after Eddie’d taken his shirt off and lifted him from the bassinet, but all protesting seized the moment he was settled against Eddie’s chest. Wayne was silent, breaths evening out as Eddie gently rubbed his back, his dad almost thought he’d fallen asleep until he craned his neck down and around to catch a glimpse of his face; the baby was still awake, eyes staring off into the distance as he focused on Eddie’s heartbeat along with the rise and fall of his chest.

While the two of them waited for your return, Eddie found this to be the perfect time to introduce him to DND—yes, he knew he’d have to re-introduce him when he was older but he was trying to bond with his son—telling him all about the different classes and races and how, despite what Dustin thinks, Alignment has EVERYTHING to do with Background.

[seenoversundown]

Amongst The Stars: Chapter Three

Josh x Quinn (Nonbinary OC)

Warnings: Misgendering of a nonbinary character, Men (that’s it. That’s the warning), Wallet chains, Jake being Sweet. Word Count: 4.1k Summary: Josh has always loved love,  and he's finally found it. Buuuut, he can't exactly tell anyone. Join him as he navigates the ins and outs of his sweet, secret romance. Author's Note: We are officially on our regularly scheduled programming. Every monday, babies. I hope you all enjoy this one and the little dual POV action. I just had to get quinn back in there for a little bit at the end :)

Can't Take My Eyes off You - Frankie Valli  “Pardon the way that I stare There's nothin' else to compare The sight of you leaves me weak There are no words left to speak”

I can’t stop thinking about Quinn after they leave. Every little thing I do draws my mind back to them. I know it’s wrong, and I shouldn’t be, but I am jealous of their partner. God, Josh, you sound insane. Pining for a person you’ve met one time, being jealous of their partner. Their partner doesn’t respect them, so their partner doesn’t factor in. Sometimes, I wish brains functioned like an etch-a-sketch because I try shaking my head to clear those thoughts, but it doesn’t quite work, and I end up with a minor headache. Oh well. I walk back up to the front of the store, disinterested in actually working now that my day has been positively derailed by a lovely and mysterious person in a pair of beat-up Doc Martens. 

I stand by the front registers, waiting to greet customers as they walk in. Hobby Lobby has never been my favorite place to work, but it really isn't so bad when you're a manager and can choose to fuck off on the clock if you want to.Which I do. I want to fuck off on the clock badly. I look down at my watch, noting that I only have 20 minutes until I can clock out for the day. There's no sense in starting a new task, I smile to myself. I'm pleased I've managed to time my “greeting responsibilities” so well with the end of my shift. I stand around for a minute, bouncing back and forth on the balls of my feet, and I let my mind drift back to Quinn. Their lips looked so plush and biteable. It should be illegal that they nibbled their lips in front of me while I didn't have the option to offer my assistance. 

I ponder their lips for another moment before my mind slips back to their concerning comment. “He’d done a lot worse for less…”  My eyebrows furrow as I try to imagine a situation in which I would be anything short of sweet and kind to Quinn. 

I meander out of the first set of sliding doors and step into the area where only the ugliest furniture goes to die. Goin’ to the Hobby Lobby lobby, I sing to myself as I take stock of the atrocious seasonal items that no customer would ever think to purchase. That's a lie; old women exist. I walk the area and make a mental note to bring the feather duster out tomorrow to tackle the growing piles of dust that inhabit the, reasonably, rejected items. I run my finger along the gilded frame of one of the paintings that’s propped up atop one of the fucking ugliest baby pink chalk-painted tables I've ever seen. Of course, it's chalk paint, I shudder. My thoughts return to the painting; it’s massive, at least two and a half feet long—a highland cow with fluffy hair covering its eyes and an inexplicable crown of leaves resting upon its stupid little horns. 

“Oh, Bessie,” I whisper, pulling my finger back from the frame and examining the dust that came with it. “They could never make me hate you. I may hate everything in this sad room, but never you.”  I decide to check the markdown schedule tomorrow because, as much as I love this goofy little cow, I will never take her home at full price. I do have some standards. 

As I'm about to turn around and head back into the store proper, I hear the entrance door slide open as a man about my age, give or take, walks through. 

“Oh! Hey, man. Welcome to Hobby Lobby,” I greet him.  “Lookin' for a dude named Josh.”  Me? I take a second to look him over. Curly, blonde hair that sits a bit too close to his eyes. Nondescript black tee with baggy jeans. A wallet chain attached to his belt loop. A fucking wallet chain. What year is this? Well-worn Adidas sneakers. He seems safe enough. A bit worse for wear, but he doesn't seem scary. 

“Ah, yep,” I stick my hand out, offering it in greeting, “that’d be me!” He looks at my outstretched hand and scoffs.  Okayyyyyyy, maybe I misjudged.  “I just wanted to talk with you, man to man.”  “About…”  “About you flirting with my girlfriend,” he cocks an eyebrow.  “Not sure what you mean, champ,” I let out an awkward chuckle.“Don’t pull that shit with me, man.”  “I’m afraid I really don't know what you're talking about. I haven't said more than ‘hi, welcome to Hobby Lobby’ to a girl in weeks.”  “So, you're gonna act like you have no idea who Quinn is?”  I narrow my eyes,  putting two and two together. This is Quinn’s shithead partner.  “I don't think they’d appreciate you calling them your girlf—” “I don't exactly care what she’d appreciate right now,” he cuts me off, “I'm here to talk to you.” 

Oh, so he reallyyyyyyyy doesn't respect them. Noted. 

“Yeah, so,” I roll my eyes, “you can talk at me, but you're not talking to me until you show some respect.”  I watch his face contort in confusion, quickly morphing into anger. “Why should I respect you?” He spits out quickly.  “Are you delusional? Just stupid?”  I can't help but laugh at the look on his face  “I’m not asking you to respect me,” I continue, “I'm asking you to respect your partner. It’s ridiculous that you're in here, trying to talk to me ‘man to man’ while you're misgendering them.”  I watch as realization dawns on his face.  “Come on, you know I didn't mean that.”  “I’m assuming you’ve been with them long enough to know better,” I watch his eyes slowly shift away from mine, “not that length of time has anything to do with respect.” 

His eyes fall to the floor, properly chastised. 

“I—”  “For what it’s worth,” I cut him off, “from the few minutes that I talked to Quinn today, in a purely professional capacity, I think they deserve better than whatever it is you have to offer.”  “Hey—”  “AND, don't forget that they’ll realize that one day. And when they do, someone will be waiting to treat them better.” 

I check my watch.  Time to gooooooo! 

“Anyway,” I pause, narrowing my eyes at him in a silent gesture to get his name.  “Craig.”  “Anyway, Greg, my shift is over. I don't intend to mention this to Quinn the next time I see them, and I’d suggest you don't either.” 

I turn on my heel and book it to the break room, practically sprinting by the time I make it to the double doors. I push through, throw my smock on one of the hooks above the time clock, and punch out. Finally, finally, I sit on the worn-out leather couch across from the lockers and let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding in. 

“What the FUUUUUUUUUUCK,” I lean my head back and groan. 

I didn't have “getting accosted by a fucking freak” on today’s bingo card, but I suppose I'll have to tick it off regardless. Who does he think he is? Who do I think I am? I don't talk to people like that. I pull out my phone and send a text to Jake, chuckling at his nickname in my phone. I'm five minutes older, and I will never let him live it down. 

Me: I think I messed up  Kiddo: Elaborate on that?   Me: No 

I slide my phone into my pocket and stand up from the couch, shaking some of the nervous energy from my limbs. I’ll explain everything to Jake when I get home; I just need him to know I may be in a mood. 

I let out a long sigh and slowly made my way out to the front of the store, praying to whatever gods existed that Craig would be gone by the time I got there. I thank all my lucky stars as I walk out of the first set of sliding doors and find myself alone. I glance once more at my girl Bessie, then head out to the parking lot. I glance in every which direction, ensuring that Craig isn’t hiding anywhere, waiting to pop out and murder me. Perhaps I am being dramatic, but my gut tells me you cannot trust someone who wears a wallet chain unironically. And I always follow my gut. 

I make it to my Jeep truck and sigh as I plant myself in the driver's seat, connecting my phone to Bluetooth and clicking into my Apple Music Discover Station. Occasionally, I find something new that I enjoy. The opening notes of a pop song filter over the speakers as I back out of my parking spot and pull through the parking lot. Sam would hate this; I’ll have to add it to the bar playlist. 

I bob my head to the music, driving down the road back to my apartment “I’m your dream come true when it's on a platter for you…” For some reason that brings Quinn to the forefront of my mind, I can’t help but think about what a piece of shit Craig was to me today. I hope he’s better to them, but something tells me he isn’t. The things they said about him today…My stomach clenches thinking about it. Someone like Quinn deserves the world, and Craig is obviously not giving it to them. I could. Okay, no, that’s crazy. 

I sigh, pulling up to the stop sign next to the bar that Jake owns. We’ve lived in the apartment above it for years, but the prior owner finally decided to sell it, and Jake took him up on the offer. Jake got a job down at the docks when we were freshly graduated from high school; he decided he didn’t care about college and just wanted to set himself up with a good job that would pay him enough to put money back in savings and have a little spending money on top, and in Portland… That’s the docks.  Not that he ever needed spending money; he didn’t (and still doesn’t) ever do anything for himself. He’s always been too busy taking care of everyone else. I can’t even remember the last time he took a nice girl out for dinner. 

I pull into the back side of the parking lot and slam my car into park, practically jerking my key out of the ignition and running through the backdoor of the bar, ready to see my twin after the horrendously long day I’ve had. 

“Uh, hey, bub,” Jake greets me from behind the bar with a confused wave.  “Hey, kiddo,” I sigh, sitting at the bar top, “can I get a salty dog?”“Sure thing, gin or vodka?”  I raise an eyebrow at him, signaling he doesn't need to be in customer mode with me.  “Surprise me.” 

I watch as he takes a bottle of Tanqueray gin from the top shelf, pours a measure of it into his cocktail shaker, and then adds grapefruit juice, lime juice, and ice. He shakes it, then strains it into a highball glass rimmed with salt and slides it over to me. 

I take a sip, and, of course, it's delicious. Jake indeed found his calling here — no one on this earth can make a cocktail like he can. 

“Perfect as always, Jake.”  “I don't make them any other way,” he starts, “now, wanna tell me about how you ‘think you messed up?’”  I slam back the rest of my drink and shake my glass, asking for another.  “Slow down, you're gonna drink me out of house and home,” Jake scolds, but prepares another one, nonetheless.  “I need a little help loosening my lips.”  “Get real, you've never had an issue talking in your life. If anything, you're too good at it.”  I roll my eyes but secretly know he’s correct. I'm a known yapper.  “I resent that, you know.”  “And I don't care, stop changing the subject.”  “Fine,” I huff, “I got into a fight with a customer today.”  “Physical or…”  “Verbal, obviously. Do I look like a scrapper?”  He chuckles, wiping non-existent dust off of the spotless bar top.

“Anyway, some crazy dude wearing a wallet chain, of all things, came in and yelled at me for hitting on his partner.”  “What?”  “Yes, Jake. A wallet chain. In 2024. I was baffled, too.”  “No! Not that, you weirdo. He yelled at you for what?!” “Oh, he thought I was hitting on his partner.”  “Well, were you?”  I sit and think for a moment. I wasn't not flirting with them, but it wasn't my initial intent.  “Maybe a little,” I sigh, “I didn't realize they were in a relationship. And I do have eyes. They were too cute. I had to try and shoot my shot or whatever the kids say.”  “You’d ‘shoot your shot’ with a wall. I’m honestly shocked this is the first time this has happened.”  “I resent that, too.”  “Add it to the list.”  “Anyway, I think the guy was just insecure. But I may have been rude to him.”  Jake slowly blinks at me.  “You were rude?”  “I know,” I laugh, “he just brought it out in me.”  “How rude were you?”  “Well, I jumped his ass for misgendering his partner.”  “That's not exactly rude,” Jake jumps in, “it’s quite the opposite, I'd say.”  “I’m sure he didn't feel that way.”  “Why do you care? You did what was right; plus, it’s not like you'll ever see this dude again. Hell, you probably won't even see his partner again. No harm, no foul.”  My stomach flips at the thought of not seeing Quinn again. We don't have time to unpack that. 

“Yeah, you're probably right. I’ll never see either of them again and, as of right now, he hasn't reported me to corporate. So, no need to stress.”  “Exactly right, bub.” 

I finish up my drink and set the glass down. 

“Thank you, Jake.”  “You don't have to thank me, I’ll always be on your side.” 

I reach out and pat his arm. 

“Also,” Jake starts, “I don't know the situation, but it’s pretty serious if you actually act rude to someone else. So, don't discount those feelings.”  What is he saying? I fix him with a confused look.  “I don't understand.”  “Look, Josh,” he sighs like he’s preparing to explain physics to a five-year-old, “I’m not telling you to get in the way of their relationship. But, if the opportunity to explore this arises, don't let that opportunity go to waste. It’s no small thing that you felt connected enough to this person to do what you did today.” 

“You know, I did tell the guy today that if he doesn't treat them right, someone else will be there waiting. Maybe I’m that someone.”  “You could be, if that's what you wanted.” 

I simply hum a response. Jake has given me too much to think about. 

“I appreciate you lending me an ear, brother,” I shove my stool back from the bar and stand, “but I have chores to take care of upstairs. Text me if you need a hand down here.”  “Will do.” 

I open the door to the apartment that Jake and I share above the bar. Home sweet home, finally. I kick my shoes off and walk into the living room, planting myself on the couch, thinking about Quinn the whole time. Something about them piqued my interest. I can't help but feel that if we’d met at a different point in time, we’d be together right now. That's ridiculous. You've spoken to them for a total of 3 minutes. 

It is true that I've only spoken to them for a few moments, but I noticed them the first time they ever came in while I was working. I've watched them from afar, hoping to find a way to actually converse with them. I was shocked when they found a way to converse with me first. Jake may joke about how I’d hit on anyone, but that's not true. I’m nice to everyone, and I'm flirty with a lot of them. But Quinn is different. And it's unbelievable that I feel that way. I don't wink at every single person I see, nor do I tell them how important their work is. I certainly don't get into verbal altercations defending other people. Verbal altercations are reserved for when someone is talking shit about my family. So, what makes Quinn different? I keep replaying our interaction in my mind. I got butterflies when they complimented my tattoo. I was practically shaking when they pulled me in for a hug. I was angry on their behalf when they insinuated that they don't have people who support them. 

What. Makes. Quinn. Different. 

I never act this way about strangers, but it's as if their soul called out to mine, and mine answered. It's the only way I can explain the way I handled Craig. I called him GREG just to piss him off. I never do shit like that. But he was an absolute chode. He kind of deserved it. I can internally debate whether he sucks or not all night, but it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t speak like that to people, and if Quinn, sweet, curious Quinn, weren’t involved, I likely wouldn’t have spoken to him that way either. Regardless, I really need to find a way to get closer to Quinn. Good job; that sounds so creepy. What I mean is that I feel a soul-deep need to know this person. I don’t know in what capacity because it seems as though I’m entering their life a little late for it to be romantic. Which is what I want. But I could be just in time for friendship. I’ll take it if they truly want to extend the offer, but only time will tell. 

When Craig makes it back home, shopping bags in tow, Willa and I are roughly two and a half sheets to the wind. 

“Well, well, well,” Willa points an accusatory finger at him as he walks through the door, “The prodigal Greg returns.” I can’t help but snicker, knowing how much it pisses him off when: 1) Willa is here without warning 2) Someone calls him by the wrong name. 

“Hey, Willa,” He plastered on a pained smile. Willa turns to look at me, shock written on her face. That may be the nicest he’s been to Willa in months. Craig walks into the kitchen and places his bags on the counter. 

“Didn’t realize you were going to be here,” He half shouts from the other room, “But you’re welcome to stay for dinner if you want.” “Does he even know how to cook?!” She whispers. “He knows how to heat food up,” I shrug. “I’m making Eggplant Parm.” My eyes light up. It’s my favorite meal. “Maybe this is his way of apologizing,” I whisper to Willa.  She rolls her eyes but cuts me a devious look. “That sounds great, Craig. I’d love to stay if you’ll have me.”

“You girls just stay in there, and I’ll have it out in a jiffy.” “Jiffy?” Willa mouths, fighting back a laugh. “Girls?” I mouth back, shaking my head, and Willa’s face instantly sours. She knows that Craig has a hard time with my pronouns and prefers to ignore my identity. This is a regular point of contention in my relationship with Craig and, by extension, my relationship with Willa. I don’t understand why he does it, and she doesn’t understand why I let him get away with it. I don’t understand why I let him get away with it. He is quite literally just a man. 

Willa and I fall into silence for a moment before she grabs my hand and stage whispers just loud enough that Craig may hear. “I bet Stock Boy wouldn’t misgender you.” I hear a small crash from the kitchen, and I clap one of my hands over her mouth. “Stop!!”

I feel her tongue dart out and lick between my fingers, and I let out a squeal. I pull my hand back from her mouth and wipe it on her shirt. “You are an absolute monster. I’m not sure why I allow you to call yourself my friend.” “Oh, Quincy,” she lets out a cackle, “You wouldn’t know what to do without me.” 

I roll my eyes, but it’s true. She is the only thing that has kept me sane since we moved to Maine. She’s my rock. Kind of sad that your own partner isn’t your rock, Quinn. Willa picks up our empty wine glasses from the coffee table and shoots me a wink before heading into the kitchen. Surely, this will be fine. Willa trapping Craig in a room could not possibly cause anything terrible to occur. 

I can hear their muffled voices just enough to make out their conversation. ‘So, Craig. What did you get up to after Gamestop?’ I wince, waiting for his response to that emphasis. Willa has always been phenomenal at telling him that she knows precisely when he’s messed something up.  ‘Oh, uh. I just stopped by the grocery. Wanted to make it up to Quinn.’ Interesting.  ‘You were gone an awful long time to have just stopped at the grocery.’ ‘Mmm, yeah, well. I had to figure out what to make and how to make it. I’m not exactly a chef over here.’  ‘That’s an understatement,’ I wince again. What is she playing at? This situation is already precarious. ‘But, I suppose you get half of a point for trying. We’ll see.’ 

Willa walks back into the living room with two more glasses of wine for us. 

“He’s–” She starts at full volume before I shush her, connecting my phone to the Bluetooth speaker in the corner. Once the music starts playing at an acceptable volume to cover our conversation, I motion for her to continue.  “He’s lying. I can smell it on him. He didn’t just nip over to Hannaford and come home.” “I mean, obviously. He was gone for like three hours.” “You don’t care that he’s literally lying to your face.” “Technically,” I poke her side, “he lied to your face. And no, not really. If he came home and decided to be sweet for once, I’m not gonna question what it took to get him there.” “Quinn,” She says softly, reaching a hand out to pat my leg. “I know, Wills. But, just let me have this for the moment.”

She hums a non-response and drops the conversation. 

I should have questions. I should care. But, if he’s going to be sweet, I’ll take it where I can get it because these moments are becoming fewer and further between. 

“Dinner’s done,” Craig pops his head into the living room, “Y’all’s plates are already on the table.” Willa and I scramble to the kitchen table.  “Thanks, babe.” I kiss Craig's cheek before sitting down. “It looks great.”  “Anything for you, babe,” He beams. 

I see Willa’s lips quirk up in a slight grin and brace myself for whatever she’s about to do.

“So, Quincy. I’ve got a photography project I’m working on, but I need some supplies. Wanna come to Hobby Lobby with me tomorrow?” I let out a massive sigh as the color drains from Craig’s face, and I begin mentally preparing myself to do damage control, but Craig impresses me.  “That would be nice, Quinn. Y’all can get out of the house for a little bit. I’ll stay behind to clean up around here.” 

Willa sits in shock, clearly not expecting that response. 

“Oh, and Willa,” Craig smiles at her, “If you want to stay over tonight, I’ll take the couch. Don’t want you to drive home after you’ve had all that wine.” 

Maybe he’s turning over a new leaf. 

Even if Craig has decided to be a bit nicer after his moment earlier; I still can’t help the little shock of excitement that rushes through me at the thought of being able to see Josh again so soon. I’m not sure what it is about him, but I want to learn more about him. He’s the most compelling person I’ve met in a long time, and perhaps he feels the same about me. 

I’m excited to see if our friendship may blossom. 

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[covencupid]

I Want You (or The Cabin Story)

Fair warning, I wrote this on discord and then copy pasted it onto docs, so if there are some inconsistencies I apologize, but maybe I just like to keep ya on your toes.

BIG THANKS to @mamamemequeen because I pretty much wrote this in the DMs oopsi.

Danny's had his eye on you. He's been finding himself enjoying the times he interacts with you a little too much. He's got to get you out of his system. A little house call. Once that's done it'll be easier for him to go for the kill. Right?

Pairing: Danny Johnson X Fem!Reader. Use of gendered language.

TW/CW: The usual (stalking, manipulation, threats of violence, actual violence) gore, descriptions of torture, corpses, and murder. Psychological horror, child murder (imma need you to hold your judgement on this one, it's not what you think, but it's also not good), hallucinations, descriptions of visual hallucinations.

Tags will be updated as needed, but to be honest I kinda forgot what I put in this.

I will be posting as much as I can in one go, but it's long, so I might have to upload in parts. Yeah, I'm definitely posting it in parts. This is chapter one.

Word Count is 15k+, this was supposed to be a one-shot about y'all fuckin at the drive-in, I don't know how it happened.

Oh one last thing, there is kinda a prequel/backstory part I haven't finished about Danny and "prom". Whatever you think it is, it's probably not gonna be like that.

Sorry one last last thing that I'm seeing now reformatting this from discord to the docs to here is that I kinda wrote Danny and Reader's POV back and forth but a little inconsistent. I will try to make the changes in POV a little clearer with spacing, but I apologize for any confusion!

Your Place // The Cabin // The Woods

~I Want You~

~Chapter One - Your Place~

Danny waited for the perfect night. A storm was coming. The whole neighborhood was snuggled up tight in their big warm beds and you? You were painting your nails while a gorey Japanese B-Movie played on the small tv in your bedroom. You had no idea you were being stalked, hunted like a deer in the forest. 

Danny had to stop and take a look at you first, before he went in. He saw you, legs bent to give you a place to rest your hands while you painted them. God, your legs. He watched the light of the film dance off your legs, following the glow that reached your thighs. How it faded as it dipped to the little peek of your ass from the bottom of your shorts where you sat. He swallowed harder than he meant to. He’d have to readjust himself before he continued inside.

Danny waltzed into your home from the back patio door. Unlocked? Baby there’s a killer on the loose. He stepped into the dark entry way, noting how little the sound from your room carried. That would be useful. He eased into your hallway hearing the lovely lilt of your laughter as he neared your door. The sound made him salivate. He plucked a delicate metal frame of a vintage botanical illustration and let it fall to the floor as he swiftly crossed past your door to the opposite end of the hallway. In a second you were out and making your way for the pesky little frame.

“God you little shit!” you scolded the picture. You had complained to your friend about the framed piece you had been gifted that had a nasty little habit of slipping off it’s nail. Always a bit too heavy. Danny breezed into your room while you degraded the drawing of little flowers. Too easy. You’re just letting me right in, huh?

“And you better keep it down out there!” you called out to the frame as you shut your door on the way back. When your head whipped back to your bed your heart jumped to your throat and fell back down to your gut. A howling ghost stared back at you, reclined in your bed, your nail polish in hand.

“H-how did y-you-” you struggled to find your words and he, seemingly mercifully, cut you off.

“Get in? You let me in, sweetheart. Thanks by the way, really saved me time.” You could feel his smug smile radiating from underneath his mask. Dread chilled your veins. You were frozen by the door. As much as Danny enjoyed the doe-eyed look of fear you were giving him, you were too far for his liking. He pat the bed beside him. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

For a moment it felt like you lost all ability to move. You lifted your right foot to take a step forward but your leg unexpectedly shook. Before you could process your involuntary movement you heard a laugh from the hooded figure lounging in your bed. “How can I have your legs shaking when I haven’t even touched you?”

Heat spread across your cheeks, breaking through the ice in your veins. Indignation rising in your chest.

“You- You’re a murderer! Showing up here in my bed, I’m gonna be scared! It has nothing to do with- I am not-” The words flowed out from your mouth faster than you could string them together cohesively. The sound of his rippling laughter cut you off. You wanted to slap him and wipe off the smug look you knew he was wearing. He crossed his arms

“Hey! Do I look like a threat to you? I’m just hanging out here. Lookin for a manicure, and maybe a better movie.”

You scoffed. “I can see your knife holster from here, not exactly “hanging out” gear. And for the record Blossom of Blood is a cult classic, not that you would know anything about it.”

Danny leaned forward. “First of all, how do you know I’m not just happy to see you? Second, no. You’re thinking of Bloody Blossom, what you’ve got is the cheap knock off made ten years later. Get your facts straight before trying to get all snobby with me.”

You mouth gaped open and closed like a fish. The nerve of this psycho to break into your home and lecture you about your movie choices.

“Hey” The aforementioned psycho snapped at you. Patting the bed next to him more aggressively. You inched your way closer to him. You felt uneasy looking down at him the moment you reached the bed. He sat comfortably nestled in your plush pillows, using a stuffed animal to prop up his arm. You wanted to beat him over the head with it. It would likely be your final act on this earth, but you felt you would feel at peace. “Sit.” There was no space for argument in his tone. Not exactly a command, but still decidedly firm. You sat where he told you to and began to look intently at your hands, gripping each other tight. From your periphery you could see the black mass of his form lean in to loom over you. You felt him delicately take your chin between his thumb and forefinger with his gloved hand. The skin on your arms pricked up with goosebumps. He’s turning your head to look at him as he’s telling you in a sing-song tone “look at me”.

You stare, wide eyes welling up with tears you wanted to keep hidden, into the black holes of his mask. You wish to look so far into them to reach the eyes you felt boring into you. As your eyes remained locked on him, he plucked your hand from your own grip to place the bottle of nail polish in your palm.

“Go on.” he said as he reclined back into your bed, crossing his feet as he extended a gloved hand out at you.

“Uh- you want me to-?” you looked between the bottle of polish and the masked man before you.

“I said I’m here for a manicure, sweets. Come on and make it nice or ya know…” he wiggled the hunting knife in your face. You gasped and grabbed his other hand in an instant. He chuckled as you held his large gloved hand with your comparatively small one. You held the polish right next to it. Does he want me to take off his glove? Paint the fingers? No, right?

Sensing your conflict, he wiggled his fingers in your face. “You can take it off.” He teased.

You put the polish down beside you as you worked the glove off his hand. You placed it on your lap. You felt hot, feeling his eyes rake over you as you gently held his hand, surprisingly warm. The tips of your fingers lightly grazed over his and felt the callouses there. You felt flushed. A killer walks into your room at night… and he tells you to paint his nails? He’s insane. You laid his hand on your lap as you picked the bottle of black nail polish back up and twisted the top off. You held the bottle between your thighs and picked his hand back up slightly. Your hands shook slightly as the applicator neared his nail bed. When you finally laid the first coat down you felt like you could breathe a sigh of relief.

Danny, feeling your unsteady breath reach the top of his hand, blurted out “Don’t fuck up!” quick enough to make your heart jump.

“Fuck! Don’t do that, that’s gonna make me fuck up!” You gripped his hand a little tighter. The feeling of your soft, warm hands on his sent a wave of heat course through him. He chuckled. As you were about to paint the next nail he quickly pulled his hand back and held it in front of you. A small sound of annoyance got caught in your throat. He reached his hand back out to you but pulled it back when you reached for it. You were getting flustered. The way your brows knotted together as the speckles of blush played on your cheeks was just delightful. It was so easy to work you up. He extended his hand out to you again. You stared at him for a second before going to reach back out for him. You looked between his hand and himself in rapid fire succession until you went to get his hand. In an instant he went to whip back his hand but you slammed your free palm into his and gripped his hand firmly until his fingers softly folded over yours. His fingertips rested on the back of your hand. A soft, self satisfied smile danced on your lips as you plucked the applicator back up to paint the next nail. Danny felt the grip you maintained on him. Firm, warm, tender. As you painted the rest of his nails, his thumb slowly ran along the side of your hand, down to graze your wrist. You just needed his thumb, but it continued it’s slow glide along your skin. What were you feeling? Annoyance for sure, he wants something done and won’t even stop moving to let you do it. But the way his thumb caressed the stretch of skin he was able to reach, you felt a flutter in your belly. Stop, what are you even thinking. His hunting knife is dangerously close to his free hand. But should you tell him to stop? Should you try painting it as it teases the delicate flesh of your wrist? Should you tell him he has to stop, so you can paint his nail. And then? Let him continue? Let him run the freshly painted hand up your arm, up to your neck, down to your- Stop. Just. Stop, what are you thinking? This is a monster, in your bed, in your grasp. Think like you want to make it out alive.

Danny can see the muscles of your throat straining as his thumb stroked up and down. It was getting harder to just have you there sitting in front of him. He was beginning to need to close the distance between you. He noted how intently your eyes watched his thumb dance over your skin. You looked entranced, he wanted to see that pretty face up close. Danny thought about his options. The pros and cons flittered about his head but the most overwhelming image was of you, those pretty legs straddling him as his freshly painted hand gripped the creamy flesh of your thigh. Feeling your palm turn clammy, his grip on your hand turned into a vice as he pulled you down to him with a force that wrenched a yelp from your lips. That was nice. He thought. Oh the sounds you could make for him. His other hand went to grip your waist. Your left leg sat between his as the sudden movement had jerked you haphazardly over him.

“What the fuck?” you managed out as you tried to pull yourself up from the place on his chest where your head landed. He smelled like leather and oak. Something else too, slightly sweet mixed with something metallic. Your free hand helped you gain some leverage on the bed. His hand on your waist went down to pat the side of your thigh.

“Move this over, straddle me.” the words made you blush, this time obvious and bright.

You sat uneasily on his lap, scared to put your full weight on him. Modesty? How cute. Danny mused as he grabbed you by your hips and forced you to sit on him. A little gasp escaped you from the force. Danny was drinking you up. The incredulous look on your face, the way your hands fell to his chest for stability. Fuck. Restraint was going to prove much more difficult.

You felt frozen in place. What the fuck. What in the actual ever loving fuck? The screams coming from the movie on your left made it feel all the more surreal. They were pitched up and down and underscored by a synth that harmonized with the wails. Normally this would be your favorite part to point out to the people who you would (force to) watch this with. Usually met with strained smiles and equally strained eyebrows raised to the hairline. You forgave the expression on account of the dizzying fifteen minute chase scene that preceded it. You acquiesced that it was "a bit much" for the casual viewer, but damn was it beautifully shot. God, you wanted to feel normal again. Movies, and painting your nails, your nails. Not the nails of some psycho freak that is making himself comfortable on your bed. He got mud on your sheets. You wanted to reach your hands just a bit forward, just enough to reach his neck and strangle him. But his chest felt broad, sturdy, and his grip felt strong. You didn't like your odds in that fights. He didn't feel threatening though, hunting knife aside. He felt like a boyfriend trying to turn a movie date frisky. God, what are you even thinking. Be normal for the love of everything good.

You defaulted to your brand of normalcy. "The screams in this scene were pitched up and down according to their tone. If you pay attention you can hear that they added a synth to subtly harmonize with the screaming." The words just tumbled out of your mouth thoughtlessly. You weren't even looking at him. Your eyes were locked on the screen glowing bright with scenes of carnage.

For all of the cruelties Danny had doled out, this was true torture. With the glow of the television illuminating her, she looked absolutely divine astride him. He wanted to see those pretty lips part and recite his name like a prayer, instead he heard her mumble out a little fun fact about the movie he was currently ignoring. He wanted to see those lips move again, closer this time. Danny grabbed at her wrists and pulled her down to be inches away from the mask that hid his cheeky grin. Her forearms were resting on his chest, her hands gripped in fists under his chin. "Tell me again, about your movie."

No, no, no. This is not normal, we are actively walking far, far away from normal. Fuck, he's got my hands restrained. His grip is so strong. The angle he had brought you down to made you arch your hips down. Is that? Oh. You felt him. You wanted to ignore it, to ignore him. The masked killer that was terrorizing your town, a man reacting to you atop him. Your body reacting to being on top of him. What are we doing here? What are you even thinking right now. This is not the time for biological responses, he's a killer! He's not a regular guy.

He pat your thigh at your lack of response. "Hello? Movie? Synths and screams?" You felt his fingers flutter at your hip. You tried to collect yourself.

"Right they- uh the director had them mix in synths kind of like a vocoder to play ben-" a sudden movement jolted you out of your train of thought. He had rolled his hips up as he lifted his legs up. The movement, deliberate and drawn out, elicited a yelp in response from you. With the way it had pressed against your most sensitive spot, the squeak you let out had been dangerously close to a moan. A fact that Danny noted instantly.

"Just trying to get comfortable, sorry go on." he acknowledged as he adjusted his grip on your wrists with his left hand while giving your hip a reassuring pat with the other.

Danny's game with his little pet was having an unexpected effect on him. He had anticipated getting a bit worked up with you. A little edging, if you will. Just playing with his food, nothing serious. But the more Danny played this game, the more he felt he didn't want it to end. Looking at her struggling to form words, he wanted to watch her forget the entire English language underneath him. He let his right hand meander back up to her waist, the glove that remained encompassing the last of his strength of will to not flip her onto her back and fuck her right there. No, no, Danny. Let her talk, or at least try to.

What were you talking about? Right, the fucking movie. "The...movie vi- the cinematographer on this... he only made car commercials before this." You felt him chuckle. A rumble you felt pass through your own chest, down to your belly, down further.

"That's not what we were talking about." You could hear his smile through the mask. You were stumped. You felt trapped in his gaze. Your mind felt like it was turning to mush by the second. "The synths? The vocoder...?"

Right, fuck. What was I thinking? You wanted to disappear. You wanted to this all to be some sort of nightmare. Or wet dream. You felt your legs turn to jelly.

"The vocoder, yeah. It was added in underneath the actor's lines because he wanted to make the dialogue sound like it was coming from hell." Your hips ached to move ever so slightly, to tease him back. Getting comfortable, my ass. Nothing about this felt innocent, of course it wasn't. He broke into your home and made you straddle him. What exactly did you think this was going to be?

Focus on her words, Danny. What's she saying? She could be speaking in tongues by now for all he cared. All that mattered was the way he felt her belly press down on him as she breathed and how her legs had splayed further to accommodate him. Danny didn't exactly have an end goal for this night, but when he felt her hips rock a bit her fate was sealed in stone. This night would end, but their game wouldn't. Besides he still had another hand she needed to paint. He met the movement of her hips by using the hand at his waist to help prop both of them up. The hand that held her wrists now supporting her back. The space between them smaller than ever before. He could almost taste her. He had to. He used the thumb of his gloved hand to hike up his mask up to reveal his jaw. Without a second thought, he held the back of her head and pulled her into an all consuming kiss.

You had thought you made a mistake, trying to match him. You went to far, goaded the bull. Now he was going to kill you. When he hoisted the both of you up you thought he was about to deal his killing blow, maybe slash your throat as you sat upright. The strike never came. Instead, he stopped your heart another way. It had barely registered in your mind that you were actually seeing his lips, seeing a part of his face, before they came crashing down on you. He had taken advantage of the way your mouth gaped open in shock when he had lifted you up to let his tongue explore the inside of your mouth. It was far more pleasant than death. He was kissing you like he wanted to devour you whole but had to restrain himself. It would be easier to just let him, and just sit there numbly in his hands. But the way his tongue darted in your mouth you felt compelled to chase after him. Your tongue met his with an equal measure of primal instinct. You wanted to familiarize yourself with the taste of his mouth.

Damn this girl. Danny wanted her to fight him on this. Not for the sake of having her struggle, though there was a measure of thrill in that. He wanted an excuse to be annoyed with her. To want to be done with her. Instead she paid him back in kind, her hands resting on his chest inching up to his shoulders. This night was supposed to make it easier for him to kill her off later. Get his rocks off a bit without leaving evidence to find later. Instead that raw, needy feeling that built up inside him when he saw her only continued to grow. This hunger would not be sated, could not be. It would only continue to fester the more he was apart from her. The only way to keep it under control would be to keep her within arms reach. No distance to make the heart grow fonder, only tight, close proximity to make the crushing feeling turn suffocating. Then he would be tired of her, then he could be rid of her. But for now he had to get her out of here, back somewhere he could really stretch his legs. It almost pained him to break from a kiss so decadent. She wore a dreamy, almost dumbstruck expression, with a flushed face and plush, swollen pink lips to match. He wanted to drink her up.

"After all that you're gonna think I'm a real dick for this, but you'll learn to forgive me." Her drowsy expression gave way to a look of confusion. A silent question answered by an equally wordless blow to the side of her head. Light's out. "Sorry, doll. Gotta move the sleepover to my place."

[wildmtthyme]

What is Love? Baby, don't hurt me.

Simon doesn't believe in love. He thinks it's the greatest lie ever told, experience has taught him that. Not personal experience, but experience nonetheless. Never mind the fact that he's in a long-term relationship. Never mind the fact that him and his girlfriend live together. Never mind the fact that they have a dog. All of this doesn't matter until he's confronted with that very topic he hates so much. And then his world is tipped upside down when his best mate is KIA. Simon is forced to take a hard look at his life afterwards.

Master List can be found here.

Chapter 1. The Topic of Love.

Warnings: Cynical ideology. (Is that really a warning?) Mentions of abuse/past abuse.

Chapter 2. The Call of Duty ->

They were sitting in the living room of his flat, Simon sharpening his knives- with him leaving in the morning, he knew he needed to make sure they were ready to go. Every now and again, he’d glance up at her. His… well, he felt silly even thinking the word ‘girlfriend’. Melissa was… well, she lived with him but he didn’t often think of the flat as theirs. He wasn’t entirely sure why. Her stuff was here, it didn’t bother him. She picked out some of the furniture, that didn’t bother him. She did most, if not all of the grocery shopping, that didn’t bother him either. She had even gone out and got a damned dog while he was away on a particularly long mission- that hadn’t bothered him either… even if the dog hair tended to get God-damned everywhere. Sam was a good dog, a shepherd mix from the shelter that thought she hung the moon. He was also fiercely protective of her and it did bring Simon a certain amount of comfort knowing that he was here with her whenever he was away- which was a lot.

It was a pleasantly warm, sunny afternoon… she had thrown open the windows in the flat, the curtains lazily moving in the breeze… she was laying lazily on the couch with a book. He wanted to be more… in it with her but he knew that he just didn’t have that in him. He cared about her safety and he didn’t mind her being around him… but he knew there was a vast crevasse between them that he refused to cross. He was still distant, he was still cold to a certain extent, and he knew that his standoffishness sometimes hurt her feelings. But… that’s who he was and she knew that when she got in this with him three years ago. He focused back on his knives.

He had just slipped the last one back into the sleeve when he heard her softly call his name. He glanced up, realizing she’d set her book down and had been looking at him, watching him, in that soft way of hers. “Hn.” He was wearing his lightweight, at-home, balaclava- the skull print was very light on this one- some screen print that she’d done for him. You know I love you, right? He blinked at her. He was sitting there at the small table beside the window, not in front of it because that would be stupid, but beside it against the wall… his gear spread out on the floor around him. The corner of his mouth twitched as he stared at her. She was waiting for some kind of response from him. She had never actually said those words to him before and he wasn’t sure what she was expecting him to say in return. He felt… off kilter, and he didn’t like it.

“No, you don’t.” He said simply, his attention shifting back down to the holder with his knives, starting to roll it up and ready it for packing. Excuse me? He didn’t look up. “You think you do but it’s not real.” He bent down and tucked the roll of weaponry into his rucksack. He heard a scoff come from her direction. Yeah, okay. He blinked and paused, glancing back up at her as she opened her book back up and went back to reading. Her words, few that there had been, were dismissive. He sat back up and tapped a cigarette out of his pack, one lighter flick later, he was drawing a heavy lungful of smoke in before exhaling through his nose, the plume of smoke gathering around his lap.

“Love is an illusion.” He pressed… for some reason, it bothered him that she dismissed his words so easily. Sure, Simon. She sighed the words, as if he were being some kind of petulant child! His brow lowered as he felt anger lick at the back of his mind. “People say that bullshit all the time and they don’t mean it.” He pointed at the window with index and middle when she glanced up at him but didn’t lower her book. “Right now, people out there are professing their so-called love after they just beat the shit out of each other or using it as a reason to shoot some sod in the fucking head.” She quirked a brow at him and his hardening tone. You think I’m going to shoot you because I said I love you? He ground his teeth. “You know that’s not what I fucking meant.” He took an aggressive drag off his cigarette and ashed it harshly. “People use love as a fucking excuse, it’s not fucking real. They’ll say it and stay in a shit relationship where they’re treated worse than dirt because they love their partner. They’ll accept it as a reason to get beat, to get cheated on, to get thrown around. They’ll let it trap them, keep them, reduce them to nothing.” His tone kept getting harder and harder until he was damn near yelling at her, leaning forward in his chair, doing everything to keep himself seated.

Finally, he crushed the cigarette out roughly. She dog-eared her book (something he fucking hated) and closed it, setting it on the table beside the couch as she stood up. Okay. She fucking shrugged and walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, where he heard her grab a pot and heard the water running.

The fuck?! He was sitting there with a flabbergasted look. Fucking okay? That’s all she had to say in response to everything he just told her!? Before he could stop himself, he was on his feet, following her into the kitchen. “Fucking, okay? That’s it?” He couldn’t help it. She needed to fucking understand this particular point.

He watched her set the pot on the stove, turn it on to boil before she faced him and leaned her hip on the counter. She was wearing some house shorts and an old band shirt of hers, not his. Yeah, okay. She gave him another lift of her narrow shoulders, folding her arms loosely over her mid-section. You can have your opinions, Simon. But, it’s not going to change the fact that I love you. You can rail against it all day long and all night and hell, until the end of time. I can’t control how you feel, I can’t make you love me back. Just like you can’t make me not love you. That’s the only really shitty thing about love. And the thing I think you really can’t stand about it. Yeah, all of what you said may be true but the real issue I think you have with it is simple. He cocked a challenging brow at her, folding his arms over his chest, his boots standing shoulder-width apart. You can’t control it. If you love someone, you just do. It happens all on its own and there’s nothing you can do about it. Now… whether or not you stay with that person, that you can control. I’m with you because I want to be. The fact that I love you is its own thing. And I didn’t tell you that so you’d feel any kind of guilt or… obligation. But before you leave… I wanted you to know that I do love you. He clinched his jaw tight, his eyes snapping in anger again at those words. So, when you’re out there and things get fucked… I don’t want you thinking that you’re in this shit alone. He swallowed thickly and felt the corner of his mouth twitch. She wasn’t emotional, she wasn’t teary eyed… she wasn’t hurt by what all he said and she was being honest.

“I have a team.” He heard himself say. “I’m never in this shit alone.” He saw the way she pressed her lips together and heard her quiet sigh. Yeah, I know. She turned away then… and that’s when he saw the first and only sliver of hurt. And he saw it for what it was. He felt like he’d literally just brushed her aside though he hadn’t gotten near her. That… that’s what hurt her. He watched her open the fridge and start pulling random (to him) ingredients out. Dinner’ll be ready at six. He heard those words for what they were. Her quiet, soft way of telling him to leave her alone. It was rare that he ever actually hurt her feelings… but when he did, she wouldn’t rail at him… not like he did… no, she wouldn’t cry or scream or yell… she’d just get… quiet. And that was somehow worse. He left the kitchen quietly, passing Sam in the doorway as the dog brought himself to her, drawn by her sudden shift in attitude, no doubt.

Simon spent the rest of the late afternoon and evening packing, ensuring that his gear was in order. Swapping random texts with Johnny and Price over what all was needed… what wasn’t… the usual. Except this mission wasn’t the usual and he knew it. He never talked to her about his missions… he didn’t want that shit in her head. He wanted to protect her from that side of his life. She made him carbonara… one of his favorites. They ate quietly… low murmurs of his appreciation and that he thought it was good, her thanks and whether he wanted to get takeaway for dessert. He didn’t. She said that was fine. He tried to get her to let him do the dishes… but she ignored his insistence.

When he climbed into bed that night, her having already gone to bed a few hours before him… he felt… unsettled. It wasn’t like they had a routine whenever he went on missions but… he didn’t like leaving whenever they were at odds with one another. It was rare, but it happened. And though they weren’t fighting, per say. He still felt… off. He rolled towards her and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into him gently as to not wake her. She still woke up, she was a light sleeper. Hmm? You… you leavin’ already? She was groggy, her mind still clouded with sleep. Though she was a light sleeper, she trusted him enough that she’d stay just beneath the layer of consciousness where she wasn’t quiet aware of what time it was.

He pressed his face into her neck and took in a deep breath. “No, go back to sleep.” He murmured low and felt her curl up a little more, wrapping around his arm. He, in turn, curled around her. She was so much smaller than him, which wasn’t that hard, but still… it never ceased to amaze him sometimes. He ran his hand up and splayed it over her sternum, feeling her heart beat slow and steady. Knowing she loved him… hearing her say it… that was one hell of a burden. It was a responsibility he didn’t want. He’d seen people get destroyed for love.

His mother, for one. Love ruined her. And he knew, as much as he tried, as much as he hated the fact… that he was his father’s son. He had that meanness in him… that’s what allowed him to do what he did, to be as good as he was at his job. If he allowed that meanness to bleed over onto her… he held her a little tighter, hearing her sigh heavily in her sleep because of it. If he allowed it to bleed over onto her… her love would make her stay, just like his mother stayed with his father. He knew when this started that it had been a horrible idea to get into a long-term relationship… but it had all just… clicked, so damned easily. They just… worked. He could be mean sometimes, he wouldn’t mean to be that way, it’d just come out. Or, he wouldn’t even mean it that way but the tone of his voice would just tilt too far into that tone and whatever he was saying would come out mean.

But she had always been able to tell whether he really meant it or not. And if he did, she’d always warn him that he was walking a line. She’d give him a chance to reign it back in. She was always so damned understanding. His muscles all started to go loose as realization dawned on him. How long had she fucking loved him? His mind flashed through all the times he’d been unnecessarily cruel… mean… sharp… and all the times she’d just dealt with him, accepted him, eased him through things, been so damned patient. So many times, where she should have walked away and didn’t. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and let out a heavy breath. Was he already ruining her?

He nearly jumped when he felt her hand reach up and fingers comb into his hair… he never slept with his balaclava on here at his flat. Yer thinkin’ could wake the dead, Si. He sighed heavily and nuzzled into her neck again. “Sorry, love.” That endearment that he used struck him dead center in his chest. But she didn’t seem to notice, he only ever used it when they were in bed or he was fucking apologizing for something. Sleep, baby. He felt some of the ice that encased his heart thaw, just like it always did, whenever she called him that. He nodded and forced his mind to stop the laps around the abstract idea of love and what it did to people. He had to leave early and he needed to sleep. And he knew that this was going to be the best sleep he was likely to get for a good long while.