#tempted to join out of pure desperation

[liamthemailman]

Hi Liam!  (⌒‿⌒) for the ask game: 🧡 and 🔮 ^^

ヾ(^▽^*))) HIYA!!! Thanks for the ask!!

🧡 A color you can’t stand?

I don't like pink. specifically hot pink... im not sure why but the colours make me want to rip my eyes out and it kinda hurts to look at... i know this sounds crazy but i just really don't like hot pink range. _(:з)∠)_

🔮 What’s your dream job?

not exactly sure.. i'm torn between wanting to be a film crew but i also want to be a storyboard artist/illustrator/any job that will let me draw. i love the chaos of being on set but i also love being able to let me do my hobby as a job. both are my passions but there's pros and cons on each side

[sunniepoo]

thinking about mean stepbro!rafe catching his cute little stepsis humping away at her pillow late into the night when everyone’s asleep ⋆ටᆼට⋆

that night was ingrained in the back of rafe’s head as if some twisted fairy carved the image of you rutting helplessly into your pillow within the crevices of his brain

it was all by complete chance. the night’s breeze gushed through the older cameron’s window awakening him to the seasonable hot hours of darkness- he couldn’t even remember what caused him to leave bed; water? needing to use the bathroom?

all that clouded his twisted mind, was walking past your room; his sweet, pure minded step sisters room. the soft little pants and uh uh’s that left your mouth filled the silent air. he almost couldn’t believe it, it felt like some perverse wet dream that centred around your poor, naive self

his body moved before his mind, his hand gently creeping up against the door, softly pulling it open- cautious to making no noise to alert his presence. it was art; the sight of seeing you move vigorously against a spare pillow, your hips rocking back and forth as your back arched back, your hands travelling up to pull and squeeze at your clothed tits, your mouth agape as the sinful sounds of pleasure leave your mouth

but the true beauty of it all was when his eyes fell down to your bare pussy, all red and puffy from the constant stimulation. you were so so so wet, you poor thing must have been so achey, so desperate

he would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted, there was nothing he wanted more than to barge in and pound that pretty pussy till you couldn’t even remember your own name - but he settled, hiding in the darkness, watching you work at your pillow late into the night. he found his hand travelling down beneath the band of his sweatpants, palming away at his hardon, small pants of pleasure escaping his mouth

you paid no notice to your surroundings completely oblivious to the shadow of the large figure behind your door until you stopped

fuck! had you seen him? has he been caught?

depsite the danger of being caught, rafe’s head peered further inside and god he nearly came at the sight.it was heavenly,the way you took of your corset like top, tits spilling out in an almost pornographic like manner. one of your small hand gliding up your stomach, eventually to come pull and twist at your cute little nipples while the other goes down to rub at your already sensitive pussy

the loud moan that left your mouth went straight to his throbbing cock, dying to be let free and make itself home in your tight cunt. he rushed to pull down his pants and boxers, freeing his large length as his hands fist around it, moving up and down at the same pace you rocked against the pillow

his mind couldn’t help but wander what if it was him underneath you instead of the pillow, the zip of his jeans catching against your sore clit just as the edges of the pillow did when you rocked forward and when you rocked back it was the friction against his bulge rather than the fluff of the pillow

he could hear that you were getting closer, your whines becoming higher as you rocked faster and faster, your hand rubbing roughly against your mound prompting him to move his fist faster up and down the length of his cock, leaking with pre cum

a soft series of curses left your mouth as you went into total bliss, hands gripping the side of your bedside table,mouth agape while a high pitched wine left your mouth and as if it was a cue for the tall blonde, he spilled out across the palm of his hand

he wondered if you ever heard the joined pants of the aftermath of both of your highs. he watched you collapse down into the warmth of your bed, the lengths of your hair stuck against your sweaty body as you breathe out, softly panting

god he wishes he could have stayed and watched your pretty pussy throb and clench around nothing but he knew he had pushed his luck already. the images of you and your little cunt plagued his mind as he fell asleep

⇉

the morning after was a blur for you; the early morning rays of sun kissing your skin, waking you up to the quiet twitter of the birds. it was early - way too early for anyone to be up, maybe ward but that seemed unlikely since he had no buisness to attend to roday

so when you went downstairs in nothing but a pair of panties and a bra covered by a thin dressing gown, the last person you expected to see was rafe cameron, the older boy resting his lower back against the counter, mindlessly scrolling on his phone

there was something magnetic about him - the dark blue in his eyes carrying a deep mystery. despite his typical mean,brooding state - barely sparing anyone around him more than a glance, you were always so drawn to him - his roughness; it only made your mind wonder to places they definitely shouldn’t be going, especially not about your brother

his hands; so rough and calloused, always adorned with the familiar gold cameron ring gifted by his father. you’d thought about them more often than you’d like to admit, what’d be like to hold them - intertwining them within yours. you wondered how’d they’d feel inside you, fitting in you so snug - reaching places inside you that you could only imagine of. the thought of them wrapped tightly around your neck, his fingers inside your mouth, making their way down your thro-

“your up early, must’ve slept good” you look up at him, realising you’d been staring intently at the lengths of his fingers, his voice was husky signalling he must’ve just gotten up aswell

you didn’t miss the subtle smirk as he uttered out the end of his sentence. weird you thought but didn’t pay it much thought, rafe is rafe. “yeah i guess-” you sigh out, hands softly grazing against the edge of the counter as you moved slightly closer “i mean i went to bed pretty late but it’s fine”

“yeah?” it was hard to miss his teasing tone, you couldn’t help but look down at the ground - feeling small in his presence “and why did you go to bed so late” the sudden shift in position nearly startles you, with rafe’s tall figure looming over you, standing impossibly close. you could feel his minty breath coming slowly closer and closer, making your pussy clench around air

you couldn’t help but take in his appearance, wearing nothing but a tight pair of boxers which did nothing to hide his quite obvious boner poking at the front of your thigh, hair tussled above the icy blue in his eyes

“just on-” the quiver in your voice only seemed to push him closer “on my ph- phone” you ramble out, hoping this conversation would be over soon enough

and just as he goes to speak, the voice of ward and rose waking up could be heard from downstairs, thank god- but it doesn’t stop him from shifting closer, leaning down to your ear “ well get to bed earlier-” he drawls out, voice unusually soft and gentle “f’me kay” he begins to leave but not before placing a sticky kiss on the bottom of your cheek, hands resting dangerously low on your back but quickly glide off at the arrival of the rest of the family, as he rushes his way upstairs

you stood there hot and bothered and all that rested in your mind was the excitement of straddling your pillow tonight hoping it was him;your mean older step brother

[dreamersworldduh]

The Boy Who Broke Chains

• CONNER KENT x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — Conner Kent, known as Superboy, is a powerful figure, capable of great destruction and widely feared. He is respected for his immense strength and serious demeanor, making him a strong ally. However, to you, he is much more than that. He is Project Kr, a clone of Superman from Cadmus who once helped you escape from captivity. You remember his fierce determination and how he fought for his own identity while freeing you. To the world, he's Superboy, but to you, he's the boy who brought hope and light.

WARNING! 18+MDNI! Swearing.

WORDS! 16.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! Conner Kent is that guy, no one can tell me otherwise. The boy is fiooooneeeee, okay! This was a long one to write and it definitely trampled other fics I have planned, but I had get it out for the readers. Anyway, enjoy your reading! 😉 ✨

Acquiring the ability to control cosmic energy was never something you envisioned for your life, but desperate times can drive even the most ordinary person into extraordinary circumstances. For years, your family had been struggling under the suffocating weight of financial instability. Bills piled up like mountains, debts threatened to swallow your home, and your part-time job at the corner store barely scraped together enough to keep the lights on. Watching your parents age prematurely under the strain of endless stress made you feel helpless, as though you were merely a spectator to your family's slow unraveling.

But one evening, as you flipped through the faded pages of a secondhand newspaper, something caught your eye. It was a small, inconspicuous ad nestled between real estate listings and job postings. The bold letters read: "Volunteers Needed: Lucrative Opportunity. Life-Changing Rewards." Beneath it, the fine print offered no real details, just a phone number and one name: LexCorp.

You'd heard of LexCorp before—who hadn't? Depending on who you asked, it was either a beacon of technological progress or a shadowy conglomerate with too many secrets. Whispers about their projects varied from revolutionary to downright sinister. But desperation doesn't allow for hesitation. The promise of financial salvation was too tempting, so you dialed the number that same night.

A calm, professional voice on the other end of the line invited you for a preliminary interview. The process moved faster than you expected. Within days, you found yourself in a gleaming, sterile office building that loomed over the city like a monolith. You answered questions about your health, your resilience, and—strangely—your willingness to take risks. The interviewer never clarified what kind of risks, but when they slid the contract across the table, your focus locked on the reward: a sum so generous it could pay off all your family's debts and still leave enough for a comfortable life.

The contract was a labyrinth of legal jargon and densely packed paragraphs, punctuated by bold phrases like "irreversible effects," "assumption of risk," and "non-disclosure agreement." But the promise of freedom for your family outweighed any doubt, so you scrawled your signature across the dotted lines without looking back.

It wasn't until later that the grim reality set in. The "project" wasn't just experimental—it was dangerous. LexCorp had unearthed a crystalline artifact, a strange cube humming with energy not of this Earth. According to the scientists, it contained pure cosmic energy—an unstable force capable of reshaping matter, bending space, and altering the fabric of reality itself. They theorized that, in the right hands, it could create beings with abilities to rival even Superman.

You weren't alone in the program. A handful of other volunteers joined you, all desperate for their own reasons. The testing began almost immediately, a grueling process that pushed your body and mind to the brink. You were exposed to blinding flashes of the cube's energy, its chaotic currents coursing through containment fields barely strong enough to hold it. Each session felt like standing in the heart of a storm, your nerves stretched taut as the energy seared through your veins.

It didn't take long for the casualties to mount. One by one, the other volunteers fell. Some collapsed under the strain of the experiments, their bodies unable to adapt to the energy's raw intensity. Others met even darker fates as containment breaches unleashed bursts of uncontrollable power. The scientists treated each loss as a data point, scribbling notes on clipboards while their expressions remained disturbingly detached.

And then there was you. Somehow, inexplicably, you endured. Where others withered, you thrived. Your body didn't just survive the energy—it absorbed it, adapted to it, and transformed. You began to exhibit abilities that defied explanation: manipulating matter with a thought, generating bursts of pure energy, and sensing disturbances in the world around you as if you were tethered to something far greater than yourself.

At first, the scientists were ecstatic. You were their success story, their living proof that the experiment could work. But as your abilities grew, so did your unease. This power didn't feel natural—it felt like something alien, a force that didn't belong within a human shell. The memories of the other volunteers haunted you, their faces a constant reminder of the cost of your transformation.

The financial burden that had weighed so heavily on your family was gone, replaced by an entirely new weight—the realization that you were no longer just a person. You were a weapon, a product of ambition and desperation. Your life was no longer your own.

What began as a desperate attempt to help your family had turned you into something else entirely: a walking, breathing experiment. And while your body thrived on cosmic energy, your soul bore the scars of what you'd become.

The madness didn't end with your newfound powers. If anything, it spiraled into a nightmare beyond your darkest imaginings. LexCorp saw you not as a person, but as a priceless asset—an investment they intended to exploit to its fullest. To ensure you would remain under their absolute control, they delivered a cruel, calculated lie to your family: you had died in a tragic, catastrophic accident. There was no body, no closure, just grief. As far as your parents knew, you were gone—a victim of this cold, merciless world.

But you weren't dead. Far from it. LexCorp secretly transferred you to Cadmus, an infamous facility buried deep in classified government records, renowned for its cutting-edge but ethically dubious experiments in genetic manipulation and superhuman biology. The compound itself was a fortress, hidden in an unmarked location, surrounded by layers of security designed to ensure nothing—and no one—got out.

Your new "home" was a specialized containment cell, meticulously engineered to nullify your powers. The walls shimmered faintly with a metallic sheen, imbued with compounds and technology designed to absorb the cosmic energy flowing through your body. No matter how much strength you summoned, the cell rendered you powerless. It wasn't just a prison—it was a tomb for your autonomy.

The routines of captivity weren't physically harsh, but they were psychologically devastating. Each day was a dull monotony, a predictable loop that wore on your mind like sandpaper against stone. You were provided meals on a rigid schedule—nutrient-rich but devoid of flavor—and your quarters, while minimally comfortable, felt suffocating in their sterile, inhuman design. Time blurred into an endless expanse of sameness.

Occasionally, you had moments of interaction that broke the monotony. Conversations with the G-Gnomes, small, psychic creatures employed by Cadmus to probe your thoughts and monitor your mental state, offered a strange sort of companionship, though their eerie, insectoid features unnerved you. Then there was Kraig, a peculiar hybrid being who seemed almost amused by your predicament. He spoke in riddles, dropping cryptic hints about Cadmus's inner workings and the shadowy figures pulling the strings.

They also allowed you to practice your powers, but only under strict supervision. The training arena was a sterile, white void, filled with sensors that monitored your every move. You were tested to your limits—summoning bursts of energy, manipulating objects, even warping matter in controlled settings. But you weren't doing it for your benefit. Every session was another data point for Cadmus, another step in their quest to unlock and weaponize the full extent of your abilities.

The guards at Cadmus ensured compliance at all costs. They weren't your average enforcers. These were genetic hybrids, beings with enhanced strength, speed, and resilience, some of them augmented by alien DNA. Their presence was a constant reminder of the futility of resistance. Every hallway you walked, every glance from their cold, calculating eyes, made it clear that rebellion was not an option. Even if you managed to overpower them—which seemed impossible—the labyrinthine facility offered no clues about its location. No windows, no distinguishing features, nothing that hinted at where you might be in the world. For all you knew, you could have been on another planet.

The isolation began to chip away at your resolve. Days bled into weeks, the walls of your cell pressing closer with each passing moment. You began to lose track of time, your mind slipping into darker places. Dreams of escape faded, replaced by the oppressive reality of your imprisonment. And then, something unexpected happened.

On what seemed like an ordinary day, during one of your escorted walks to the training area, you encountered him. At first, you thought your eyes were deceiving you. Standing before you was a figure straight out of legend: Superman. The same chiseled jawline, the iconic red cape, the unmistakable "S" shield on his chest. Your heart froze in your chest. What was he doing here? Had he come to save you?

But Kraig, your enigmatic acquaintance, quickly corrected your assumption. This wasn't Superman. It was Project Kr—an imperfect clone crafted in Cadmus's relentless quest to control the power of Kryptonian DNA. Up close, you could see the cracks in the illusion: his slightly rougher features, the faint aura of instability in his demeanor. He was no savior, but another prisoner, bound by the same invisible chains that held you.

Meeting Project Kr changed everything. He wasn't just a clone; he was a person, struggling with his own identity, his own chains, his own quiet rebellion. In him, you saw a kindred spirit—a reflection of your own suffering and longing for freedom. For the first time, hope flickered in the darkness.

Finding someone to talk to was a relief, even if Project Kr wasn't exactly the warmest conversationalist. At first, your exchanges were brief—fleeting moments punctuated by short questions or observations. He wasn't particularly chatty, and his reserved nature made it difficult to know whether he even wanted to engage. Still, you persisted. Slowly, those terse exchanges began to grow into longer interactions. It might have started with a simple question—something about the sterile facility you both called a prison—but it gradually blossomed into hesitant conversations that carried the weight of mutual understanding.

Project Kr was captivated by your stories of the outside world. His eyes would narrow in quiet fascination as you described the mundane details of life beyond Cadmus. The way sunlight broke through trees in the morning, the scent of fresh rain on concrete, the chatter of strangers in a crowded marketplace—things you'd once taken for granted now felt like treasures as you recounted them. His questions were sharp and deliberate, as though each answer unraveled a world he had only dreamed of but never truly believed existed. You painted him pictures of blue skies and bustling cities, of quiet parks and chaotic streets. And every word seemed to stick, as if he was storing these glimpses of freedom deep within himself.

In return, you tried to nudge the conversation toward anything that might help you escape. You asked careful questions about the facility's layout, its security measures, and anything else that might give you a clue. But Project Kr's responses were vague, fragmented, and often unhelpful. It didn't take long to notice something was off about him. Sometimes, mid-conversation, his expression would cloud over, and he'd grow quiet, almost distant, as though listening to something you couldn't hear.

It was then you realized the truth: Kraig. The strange psychic hybrid who had been a begrudging presence in your life was manipulating Project Kr's mind. Subtly, perhaps even unconsciously, Kraig was twisting his thoughts and controlling his actions. The realization sent a chill down your spine. One day, in a rare moment of privacy, you managed to warn Project Kr. You kept your tone neutral and your words vague to avoid tipping off Kraig, but you urged him to be cautious, to question the voices in his mind. Project Kr didn't acknowledge your warning directly, but his thoughtful silence made you hope he'd understood.

Your chance at freedom came sooner than expected—and from a source you never could have predicted. One day, alarms erupted through the sterile corridors of Cadmus. The red lights painted the walls in flashes, and the normally unflappable guards scrambled like panicked ants. You had no idea what was happening. Then the sounds of muffled combat echoed through the facility, followed by explosions and shouts.

The chaos found its way to your cell when the door hissed open, and three figures appeared: Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad. Their presence was so unexpected that you thought it might be a trick or some elaborate test. But there they were, battered but determined, with Project Kr at their side. They wasted no time in freeing you. There was no room for questions or hesitation—only urgency. They needed to move, and you weren't about to argue.

The escape was a whirlwind of chaos. The five of you fought your way through the labyrinthine facility, dodging guards and tearing through security systems. The young heroes moved with reckless determination, their banter sharp despite the life-or-death stakes. You quickly found your place among them, using your powers to blast through obstacles and defend the group as the facility descended into absolute pandemonium.

Along the way, you liberated others—victims of Cadmus's cruel experiments. Some were like you, beings infused with strange powers, while others were creatures whose very existence seemed impossible. Together, you all made your way toward freedom, leaving destruction in your wake. Guards fell, alarms blared, and containment units shattered as the facility unraveled.

When you finally broke free, the night air hit your skin like a long-forgotten memory. You barely had a moment to savor the victory, though, before the Justice League arrived. The towering heroes descended like gods from the sky, their presence commanding. But instead of celebration, you were met with sharp disapproval. Batman's cold glare, Wonder Woman's disappointment, and Superman's shock all weighed heavy on the young heroes.

The League was unimpressed with the recklessness of Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad. But it was the sight of Project Kr that truly sent ripples through the group. Superman froze, staring at his clone with a mixture of disbelief, discomfort, and unspoken questions. The tension in the air was palpable as the League tried to make sense of what had happened and what Cadmus had been hiding.

You stood awkwardly amidst the chaos, unsure of where you belonged in this strange new reality. All you wanted was to go home, to finally see your family again and leave this nightmare behind. But it quickly became clear that wasn't going to happen—not yet. Batman's sharp, calculating gaze lingered on you, assessing your powers, your potential. You felt like a puzzle piece he was already trying to fit into a grander scheme.

It wasn't freedom you had walked into—it was the beginning of something much larger. The escape had torn open a new chapter in your life, one where you were no longer just a prisoner but a player in a game far beyond your understanding. And as the Justice League deliberated your fate, you couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the start of something far more complicated, far more dangerous, than you'd ever imagined.

Returning home should have been the end of your nightmare, but instead, it marked the beginning of a more complicated and harrowing chapter in your life. Batman, true to his word, arranged for your return to your family, but not without strings attached. Standing in the shadows of your old neighborhood, he issued a warning: he would be watching, checking in periodically to ensure you didn't lose control—or endanger anyone. His voice was steady, almost detached, but his presence left little room for argument. Exhausted, you didn't press for details. All you wanted was to go home.

The reunion with your parents was both heartwarming and devastating. When they opened the door, their faces were a storm of emotions—shock, disbelief, and overwhelming joy. The tears came quickly, followed by bone-crushing hugs, as they struggled to reconcile the son they thought they'd lost with the one standing before them now. But as relief gave way to reality, their joy turned to anger.

They didn't hold back, their voices rising as they scolded you for your recklessness. Volunteering for an experiment with LexCorp—of all places? What were you thinking? Didn't you know how dangerous they were? The words hit you like blows, but you understood the source of their anger. It was fear disguised as frustration, born from the agony they'd endured while believing you were dead. And though their scolding stung, it was underscored by a simple truth: they were just grateful to have you home.

For a brief time, it felt like life might return to normal. You tried to fall back into old routines, helping out around the house, making small talk at dinner, and even considering the possibility of returning to school. But nothing about you was normal anymore. The cosmic energy flowing through your veins wasn't something you could hide forever.

At first, the signs were subtle—a glowing fingertip here, a static hum in the air when you were nervous—but it quickly escalated. Your emotions became dangerous triggers. A flash of frustration could send a burst of energy surging from your hands, while excitement might cause objects to levitate or shatter. Despite your best efforts to suppress it, your powers were volatile and unpredictable. You knew you were losing control, and worse, your family was beginning to notice.

Then there was LexCorp. They weren't content to let you slip through their fingers. Just weeks after your return, strange cars began appearing near your house, their darkened windows reflecting nothing but menace. Agents loitered on the edges of your property, their suits sharp and their gazes sharper. They didn't bother hiding their intentions, occasionally knocking on the door with thinly veiled threats, demanding to know where you were. Their intimidation tactics grew bolder by the day, turning your home into a pressure cooker of fear and tension.

The breaking point came during an argument with your father. He had been on edge since your return, and his concern for your future boiled over when you mentioned wanting to go back to school. He insisted it wasn't safe—not for you, and not for anyone around you. But you were desperate for a shred of normalcy, and the argument escalated until it was loud enough to rattle the windows.

And then it happened. In a flash of frustration, you lost control. A surge of cosmic energy erupted from you, sending your father flying across the room. He hit the wall hard, slumping to the floor in stunned silence. Thankfully, he wasn't seriously hurt, but the look on his face—the mixture of fear and disbelief—broke something inside you. He wasn't looking at his son anymore. He was looking at a stranger, someone dangerous, someone he couldn't protect.

You knew then that you couldn't stay. As much as you loved your family, as much as they loved you, you were a threat to their safety. And LexCorp's shadow looming over them only made things worse. You couldn't protect them here—not from yourself, and not from the enemies you'd made.

Desperate and unsure of what else to do, you made a decision that felt surreal: you called Batman. The fact that you even had the means to summon the Dark Knight was a strange reminder of how far your life had strayed from normalcy. When he answered, his voice was as calm and precise as ever. After you explained the situation, he listened quietly before offering a solution.

Batman extended an invitation—or perhaps a directive. He offered you a place at The Cave, a secret base for young heroes and sidekicks under the mentorship of the Justice League. It wasn't just a sanctuary; it was a training ground. There, you could learn to control your powers, defend yourself, and face the enemies who would inevitably come for you. It wasn't a retreat—it was an enlistment into a dangerous new world.

The Cave was unlike anything you'd imagined. Hidden beneath layers of earth and stone, it buzzed with cutting-edge technology and the faint hum of activity. This wasn't just a hideout—it was a hub for covert operations. The young heroes who called it home were unlike anyone you'd ever met. Aqualad, Robin, Kid Flash, and others moved through the space with confidence, their actions precise and their camaraderie sharp-edged. They weren't just kids—they were warriors in training, bearing the weight of their mentors' legacies.

You felt out of place among them, like an outsider in a world where everyone else already knew their role. They were fast, skilled, and experienced, while you were still struggling to keep your powers in check. But this was your new home, your new reality. It wasn't what you wanted—far from it—but maybe it was what you needed. Here, under Batman's watchful eye and surrounded by others who understood the burden of extraordinary abilities, you had a chance to find stability.

This was no ordinary life, but then again, you were no ordinary person anymore. You weren't just a kid trying to fix your family's problems. You were something more—a fledgling hero, a potential force for good. And as you stood in the Cave, surrounded by the hum of advanced technology and the determined faces of your new teammates, you realized this wasn't the end of your story. It was only the beginning.

Among the chaos, one thing brought you a measure of comfort: seeing Project Kr, now going by the name Conner. The sight of his familiar face, stoic as ever, made the adjustment a little easier. For Conner, the surprise was mutual. He hadn't expected to see you again, and though his expression didn't betray much, you could tell he was glad to have someone he recognized.

For you, it felt like a lifeline. You had barely interacted with the team members who had freed you—Kid Flash, Robin, and Aqualad—and they were already deep into their missions and camaraderie. While they were friendly enough, their bond made you feel like the odd one out. But Conner was different. He wasn't a polished hero or an experienced team player; he was just trying to figure things out, much like you. That small connection eased some of the tension.

Not long after settling in, you were introduced to two more members of the team: Artemis and M'gann. Artemis, with her sharp wit and cool confidence, made an immediate impression. She wasn't one to sugarcoat her words, and her tough exterior initially made her seem intimidating. But there was something about her—an edge of vulnerability beneath the bravado—that suggested she understood what it meant to fight for your place in a world that doubted you.

Then there was M'gann, or Miss Martian, who was the complete opposite. Her warmth and enthusiasm were like a burst of sunlight in the dim, serious atmosphere of the Cave. She greeted you with a beaming smile and an openness that immediately put you at ease. Her curiosity about you was genuine, and she made an effort to include you in conversations and activities, even when you felt like retreating into the background.

It didn't take long for you to realize how different each member of the team was. Robin was quick-witted and a little cocky but clearly brilliant; Kid Flash was an endless source of energy and humor; Aqualad carried himself with a calm, commanding presence that made him seem like the glue holding the group together. Conner, however, was still figuring out where he fit, much like you.

Through all of this, Conner remained a steady presence. While he wasn't one for long conversations, his quiet support was reassuring. Occasionally, the two of you would exchange a few words about Cadmus, your powers, or just the strange twists your lives had taken. Those moments of familiarity in an otherwise unfamiliar world kept you grounded.

Artemis and M'gann quickly became part of your routine as well. Artemis was the one who pushed you during training, challenging you to step up and prove yourself. M'gann, on the other hand, helped you feel like part of the team, her kindness and patience making the transition easier. Slowly but surely, you began to feel like you belonged—not just as someone seeking refuge, but as a true member of something bigger.

In your free time, you and Conner began spending more and more time together, falling into an easy, natural rhythm that neither of you had expected. At first, it was just casual conversations, catching up on everything that had happened since Cadmus. You talked about the weeks you'd been apart—how he'd adjusted to life at The Cave, how you'd wrestled with your powers and the lingering guilt of your escape. Those chats were brief but meaningful, moments of quiet connection amid the constant chaos of life as young heroes. But before long, they became something you both craved—moments of solace that grounded you in ways nothing else could.

It was impossible not to notice how much Conner had changed. He was still the strong, silent type, but there was a new layer to him now, a quiet confidence that made him seem more centered. Gone was the unsteady, uncertain figure you'd met in the depths of Cadmus. In his place was someone learning to take control of his life, to find his place in the world. That growth only deepened your respect for him, and soon, your conversations began to shift. What started as small talk about training sessions or team dynamics turned into late-night discussions about your fears, your hopes, and the strange, winding paths that had led you both to this point.

It felt effortless, natural, like you could say anything to Conner without fear of judgment. He listened in a way few others did—quietly, intently, as if every word you spoke carried weight. And when he opened up in return, you could feel the trust he was placing in you, each admission a window into the person he was becoming. The bond between you deepened with every conversation, and it didn't take long for you to realize that what you felt for Conner wasn't just friendship. It was something much more profound, something that scared and exhilarated you all at once.

You couldn't ignore it anymore. How could you, when every glance he gave you seemed to linger a little longer than it should, when every brush of his hand against yours sent a shiver down your spine? Those piercing ocean-blue eyes seemed to see straight through you, leaving you breathless and flustered in ways you hadn't experienced before. And then there was his physique—broad shoulders, a chiseled frame, and strength that felt almost mythical. You'd caught glimpses of him without a shirt during training, and those moments had a habit of staying with you, replaying in your mind at the most inconvenient times.

But it wasn't just his looks. It was everything about him—the way he could calm your nerves with a simple look, the way he listened to you ramble about the smallest details of your day, the way his presence made you feel safe in a way you hadn't felt since before Cadmus. Even his infamous temper, which should have been a warning sign, only drew you closer. You'd seen the fire in him, but you'd also seen the way he softened around you, the way your words could bring him back from the edge when no one else could.

And then there were the little things: waking up in the morning with thoughts of Conner already swirling in your mind, the sound of his voice echoing in your head long after he'd spoken, the way his rare but radiant smile could make your heart race. It wasn't just a crush—it was something deeper, something undeniable. You were falling for him, hard, and every moment you spent with him only solidified that truth.

Unbeknownst to you, Conner was wrestling with similar feelings. At first, he didn't understand what he was experiencing. Emotions were still a foreign concept to him, something he was learning to navigate, but the more time he spent with you, the clearer it became. The way his heart leapt when you smiled, the way your laughter could cut through the anger he so often struggled to contain, the way his pulse quickened every time you touched his arm—it all pointed to one undeniable fact: you weren't just a friend. You were someone who made him feel alive.

He began gravitating toward you without even realizing it. Whether it was during training sessions, missions, or quiet moments in The Cave, he found excuses to be near you. He volunteered to partner with you whenever possible and couldn't help but let his protective instincts take over whenever you were in danger, even though he knew you could handle yourself. It wasn't just habit—it was something deeper, something he couldn't deny no matter how hard he tried.

The rest of the team noticed almost immediately. The chemistry between the two of you was impossible to ignore, and it quickly became the subject of playful teasing. Kid Flash, ever the joker, took every opportunity to comment on the "will-they-won't-they drama," making exaggerated bets on how long it would take for one of you to confess. Robin smirked knowingly but kept his thoughts to himself, while Artemis alternated between amusement and light encouragement, often giving you both subtle nudges to just admit your feelings already.

But not everyone was thrilled. M'gann, who had her own complicated feelings for Conner, watched the growing connection with thinly veiled jealousy. She tried to hide it, putting on a brave face and pretending everything was fine, but her envy was apparent. It cast a shadow over the group dynamic, one that you and Conner both felt but didn't know how to address.

Despite the teasing, the jealousy, and the unspoken tension, nothing could stop what was building between you and Conner. Every shared glance, every accidental touch, every late-night conversation brought you closer to the inevitable. The feelings between you were too strong to ignore, and sooner or later, one of you would have to take the leap. Because this wasn't just a fleeting crush—it was something unstoppable, something that had already started to change both of you in ways you couldn't begin to explain.

The weight of your emotions kept both of you tethered in uncertainty. That is, until one quiet evening when the truth could no longer be contained.

It had been a long, grueling day at The Cave. Training sessions had pushed everyone to their limits, and the tension among the team was palpable. You needed a break from the relentless chaos, and as if reading your mind, Conner had suggested a walk along the beach near the cliffs. Without hesitation, you agreed. Wolf, his ever-loyal companion, bounded ahead, his paws leaving faint imprints in the sand as he explored the shoreline. Occasionally, he would stop and glance back, his amber eyes checking to make sure you were both keeping up.

The sun was beginning its slow descent, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange, pink, and gold. The ocean mirrored the colors, its surface shimmering like liquid light as waves crashed rhythmically against the shore. A gentle breeze carried the salty tang of the sea, tugging lightly at your clothes and hair. The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the only sounds the soft crunch of sand beneath your feet and the distant calls of seabirds.

It was a moment of rare peace, one that felt almost too perfect to be real. For once, there were no missions looming, no training drills to face, no external pressures demanding your attention—just the two of you and the endless horizon.

Conner was the first to break the silence. His voice, quiet and contemplative, barely rose above the sound of the waves. "You know," he began, his gaze fixed on the distant ocean, "a lot has changed since I left Cadmus." There was a hesitance in his tone, as if he were still trying to piece his thoughts together. "Back then, everything was simple. Not in a good way, just... empty. I followed orders. Did what I was told. I didn't think about anything beyond that."

You glanced at him but stayed silent, sensing that this was something he needed to say in his own time. His jaw tightened briefly, and he ran a hand through his hair, his expression flickering with uncertainty. "Since then, I've learned a lot—about myself, about the world, about what it means to... choose who you want to be." He hesitated, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "And about what I want."

The confession caught you off guard, your chest tightening as his words sank in. Conner glanced at you, his ocean-blue eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. "Sometimes, it's overwhelming," he admitted, his voice dropping lower. "I feel like I'm always trying to catch up, to figure out who I'm supposed to be, what I'm supposed to do. But when I'm with you..." He stopped walking, turning to face you fully.

The wind ruffled his dark hair, and the fading sunlight bathed him in a golden glow that made his chiseled features look almost unreal. For a moment, he just looked at you, his expression soft but intense, as if searching for the right words.

"When I'm with you," he continued, his voice steady now, "everything feels... clear. Like none of the confusion or doubt matters. Like I can just be."

Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. The air around you felt charged, the world shrinking until it was just the two of you. Before you could respond, Conner took a small step closer, the sand shifting beneath his boots.

"I don't know how else to say this, so I'm just going to say it," he said, his voice firmer now, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. "I love you."

The words hit you like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from your lungs. He stood there, raw and unguarded, every wall he'd ever built stripped away in this one, vulnerable moment. "I didn't realize it at first," he continued, his voice quieter now, as if the confession itself had drained some of his resolve. "But I do. I love you. And it's not just some fleeting feeling—it's real. It's... everything."

The world seemed to stop. The waves, the wind, even Wolf's distant barking faded into the background. All you could see, all you could hear, was Conner standing before you, his words hanging in the air like the last rays of sunlight on the horizon. He looked at you with a mixture of hope and fear, his hands hanging uncertainly at his sides, as though he didn't quite know what to do with them.

"I love you," he repeated, softer this time, as if reaffirming it to himself. "And I don't care if it's messy or complicated. I just... I had to tell you."

It was then that you realized your hands were trembling, your emotions a whirlwind of shock, joy, and disbelief. You had imagined this moment so many times, but nothing could have prepared you for the sheer weight of hearing those words spoken aloud. For the vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion etched into his features.

"Conner..." you began, your voice catching in your throat. His name felt like a lifeline, grounding you in this moment that felt too big, too important, to fully comprehend. You stepped closer, your trembling hands finding their way to his. The warmth of his touch steadied you, his calloused fingers gently enclosing yours as if to anchor you both.

Looking into his eyes, you saw everything you needed to say reflected back at you—the trust, the connection, the undeniable truth of what you both felt. And as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the world in twilight, you realized that this wasn't just a moment of confession. It was the beginning of something new, something real, and something worth holding onto.

"I love you too," you whispered, and the smile that broke across Conner's face was brighter than the fading light of the setting sun.

The confession lingered between you like a fragile thread, heavy with emotion yet pulsing with potential. For a long moment, neither of you moved, the weight of Conner's words and the silent tension locking you both in place. His piercing blue eyes searched yours, as though trying to read your thoughts, his vulnerability exposed in a way you had never seen before. Then, as if something inside him shifted, Conner took a step closer—close enough for the warmth of his body to cut through the cool ocean breeze.

He didn't speak. He didn't need to. The intensity in his gaze said everything. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in, his movements careful, giving you every opportunity to step back, to stop what was about to happen. But you didn't. Your feet stayed rooted in the sand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest as the world around you seemed to fall away. The rhythmic crash of the waves, the distant cries of seagulls, even the faint sound of Wolf panting nearby—all of it faded into nothing. There was only Conner, and the way he made the air between you feel electric.

And then his lips met yours.

The kiss was everything you hadn't realized you were waiting for. It was slow at first, tentative, like the beginning of a story you both wanted to savor. But it didn't stay that way for long. As the initial hesitation melted away, the kiss deepened, growing in intensity. There was a passion behind it, a rawness that spoke of everything the two of you had been holding back for so long. His lips were soft yet firm, his movements deliberate but hungry, as though he were pouring every unsaid word, every pent-up emotion, into this one perfect moment.

His hands, rough and calloused from endless training, moved to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing gently against your cheeks. The tenderness of the gesture contrasted with the fervor of the kiss, and it sent a shiver through you. It was as though he were afraid to let you go, afraid you might vanish if he didn't hold on tight enough. You leaned into his touch, your own hands instinctively finding their way to his shoulders, gripping him as if to anchor yourself in the surging tide of emotions threatening to sweep you away.

The kiss deepened further, and Conner pulled you closer, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. The feel of him—the strength, the warmth, the sheer presence—was overwhelming. His body pressed against yours, solid and steady, making you feel both consumed and protected all at once. You could feel the faint, steady thrum of his heartbeat against your chest, a grounding reminder that this moment was real, that he was real.

Your own hands slid up to the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him back with everything you had. Each movement, each touch, felt charged, electric. It wasn't just passion; it was love—raw, unfiltered, and impossible to contain. The connection between you seemed to hum with a life of its own, as if the universe had been holding its breath for this exact moment.

Conner tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss further as his hands tightened around your waist, holding you close but still gentle, still careful. His touch sent warmth radiating through you, a heat that spread from where his hands rested to the very tips of your fingers. You felt as though you might burst from the sheer intensity of it all, yet you didn't want it to end.

And then, reluctantly, the two of you broke apart, gasping softly as you both remembered the need to breathe. Conner didn't move far. His forehead came to rest gently against yours, his breath warm and uneven as he tried to steady himself. His eyes remained closed for a moment, a soft smile curving his lips—a smile so rare, so full of affection, it made your chest ache.

When his eyes finally opened, they were filled with a tenderness that made your knees weak. He didn't speak right away, and neither did you. Words felt unnecessary in the face of everything that had just passed between you. Instead, he lifted a hand, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek, as if to confirm to himself that you were still there, still real.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," he finally admitted, his voice low and almost shy, a sharp contrast to the confident strength he usually carried. The vulnerability in his tone only made your heart swell further.

"So have I," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the soft crash of the waves. The words carried a weight of truth that made him smile again, his rare, breathtaking smile that seemed to light up the darkening horizon.

For a while, neither of you moved, content to stay locked in this moment. His arms remained around you, holding you close as the ocean breeze swirled around you both. Wolf's distant bark brought a faint laugh from Conner, the sound rumbling low in his chest as he finally pulled back, though his hands never left your waist.

Standing there, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, you felt as though the world had shifted. The tension that had lingered between you for weeks, the unspoken feelings that had hung in the air, were gone. In their place was something real, something steady.

And in that moment, as you gazed into Conner's eyes and saw nothing but affection and certainty reflected back at you, you knew one thing for sure: this was only the beginning.

From that day on, everything changed. The kiss on the beach didn't just mark the start of your relationship—it was the foundation for something transformative, something neither of you had fully realized you were missing until that moment. You and Conner became inseparable, building a bond that was as powerful as it was tender. Over the next five years, your lives intertwined as you grew together, navigating the complexities of both hero life and the challenges of adulthood.

The beginning of your relationship was an adjustment period, filled with both excitement and learning curves. Conner wasn't the most expressive person when it came to words, but his actions spoke volumes. He showed his love in the quiet, meaningful ways that only he could. Whether it was standing protectively closer to you during tense missions, slipping you a cup of coffee just the way you liked it after a grueling training session, or silently sitting by your side during long, quiet evenings, his devotion was clear.

Conner wasn't one for grand romantic gestures, but the little things made up for it. He remembered details about you that no one else did—your favorite music, the way you liked to unwind after a stressful day, the exact spot on your shoulder that was always sore after combat training. His love wasn't loud or flashy, but it was steady and undeniable.

Of course, it wasn't perfect. Adjusting to each other's quirks and differences wasn't always easy. Conner's occasional temper and your own stubborn streak led to clashes, sometimes over the smallest things—who forgot to clean up after training, or which of you deserved the last slice of pizza after a long mission. Other arguments ran deeper, rooted in the immense pressure both of you faced as heroes. Sometimes Conner would shut down emotionally, retreating into himself when he felt overwhelmed. Other times, you'd push yourself too hard, refusing to admit when you needed help. But no matter how heated or difficult things became, the two of you always found a way to reconcile, your love proving stronger than any disagreement.

Not everyone was thrilled about your relationship—M'gann, in particular. It was no secret that she had feelings for Conner, and the announcement of your relationship hit her hard. Though she wasn't openly hostile, the tension was undeniable. At first, her actions were subtle: lingering a little too long in conversations with Conner, finding excuses to partner with him during missions, or offering advice that felt far more personal than professional. Her glances toward you were sharp, her words clipped and frosty whenever you were around.

You tried not to let it bother you, but there were moments of doubt. M'gann was stunningly beautiful, effortlessly charismatic, and had a connection with Conner from the early days of his life outside Cadmus. Part of you couldn't help but wonder if she could offer him something you couldn't. But Conner's loyalty never wavered. He made it clear where his heart lay, whether by politely but firmly shutting down M'gann's attempts or simply moving closer to you during team gatherings, taking your hand in his and grounding you in the reassurance of his presence.

Over time, M'gann began to accept the reality of your relationship. Her attempts to win Conner over became less frequent, and while the tension between you two never completely disappeared, it faded into the background. Eventually, her focus shifted toward her own growth, and though your relationship with her would never be warm, it settled into a quiet indifference. She became a minor distraction compared to the love and connection you shared with Conner.

As the months passed, you and Conner faced countless challenges together, each one shaping the bond between you. Life as young heroes wasn't easy—the missions were grueling, the stakes high, and the sacrifices often painful. But through it all, you were each other's constant. You celebrated victories together, no matter how small, and offered comfort during moments of doubt and loss. Conner's quiet strength became your anchor, while your unwavering support helped him find his footing in a world that often felt too complicated and overwhelming.

When life outside the team came calling, you tackled those challenges together too. From figuring out how to balance hero duties with the mundane struggles of daily life to simply learning what it meant to grow into yourselves, you became each other's greatest ally. On the days when it felt like the weight of the world was too much, Conner would pull you into his arms, his steady heartbeat reminding you that you weren't alone. And on the nights when his own doubts crept in, you were there to remind him of his worth, of the incredible man he had become.

Then five years passed in what felt like the blink of an eye. You went from two unsure teenagers navigating the chaos of the team to adults who had found not just strength in one another, but a deep and abiding love that had weathered every storm. There were still challenges, of course—every relationship has them—but the foundation you'd built together was unshakable.

The connection that began in the sterile halls of Cadmus had blossomed into something extraordinary. Conner wasn't just your boyfriend—he was your partner in every sense of the word. He was the person who stood by your side in battle, the one who held you close when the nightmares came, the one who believed in you even on the days when you struggled to believe in yourself.

And you weren't just his boyfriend—you were his rock, his constant in a world that had once seemed so alien and confusing. You gave him a sense of purpose, of belonging, that he'd never known before. Together, you had built a life filled with love, trust, and the unshakable certainty that, no matter what challenges lay ahead, you could face them as long as you had each other.

What began as a quiet connection had grown into a love that was steady, powerful, and enduring. Conner was your home, and you were his. And as you looked toward the future, you knew that whatever storms came your way, you would weather them together. Always.

You two had grown into your roles as senior members of the now-expanded Team, a transformation that felt both surreal and inevitable. What had started as a small, tight-knit group of young heroes had evolved into a sprawling organization with dozens of recruits, each bringing their own unique powers, personalities, and challenges. It was a far cry from the days when you and Conner were the rookies, scrambling to keep up with the veterans. Now, you stood among the most experienced, entrusted with leading the next generation of heroes and steering them through the chaos of their missions.

Stepping into leadership roles hadn't been easy at first. The weight of responsibility was daunting, especially when you remembered your own early missteps. But with time, you both found your footing, developing your own distinct styles as leaders. Conner's leadership was natural, almost effortless. His steady presence and unshakable sense of duty made him a rock for his squadron. He commanded respect without demanding it, his quiet authority inspiring trust and loyalty. Conner was the kind of leader who always showed up—whether it was to guide his team through a perilous mission or to quietly offer a word of encouragement to a struggling recruit.

Your leadership style was different but no less effective. Where Conner's strength lay in his consistency and calm, you excelled at connecting with your squad on a deeper level. You had a gift for understanding people, seeing their potential even when they couldn't. Your approach combined empathy with just the right amount of tough love, pushing your team to grow while making sure they always felt supported. You understood the importance of believing in someone, of showing them they could succeed even when the odds felt impossible. Your recruits respected you not just as a leader, but as someone who truly cared about their success.

Despite the demands of leadership, the dynamic between you and Conner remained as strong as ever. Though your duties often pulled you in different directions, you always found time to collaborate. Whether it was during strategy meetings, debriefing after missions, or those quiet moments when you both needed to vent about the latest recruit who thought they could "go solo," you leaned on each other. You balanced each other perfectly—Conner's pragmatic approach grounded you, while your empathetic perspective often helped him see angles he might have overlooked. Together, you made a formidable team, both in and out of the field.

The new normal was a far cry from the uncertain days of your early years with the Team. Back then, you'd felt like you were constantly running to catch up, to prove yourself. Now, you and Conner had become the ones others turned to for guidance. It was a strange realization at first, but also deeply rewarding. You weren't just fighting battles anymore—you were shaping the future, mentoring the next generation of heroes who would one day carry the mantle.

That didn't mean it was easy. The new recruits were a mixed bag, as new recruits always are. Some were eager but reckless, driven by the need to prove themselves in ways that often landed them in trouble. Others were more cautious, unsure of their abilities and hesitant to take risks. And then there were those who chafed under authority, testing the limits of your patience. Each recruit brought their own challenges, and managing them required different approaches.

Conner handled the rebellious ones with his usual no-nonsense attitude. He didn't tolerate excuses or slacking, but he was also fair, quick to recognize hard work and improvement. His squad knew where they stood with him, and while his methods were sometimes intimidating, they were undeniably effective. You, on the other hand, excelled at breaking through the walls recruits often put up, finding ways to reach even the most difficult personalities. You had a knack for making them feel seen and valued, which often helped smooth over the rough edges.

You and Conner frequently swapped strategies, often during late-night conversations in the Cave or on rare quiet evenings at home. These moments were a reminder of how well you worked together, your different styles complementing rather than clashing. You didn't always agree—Conner's straightforward, discipline-focused approach sometimes clashed with your more empathetic methods—but your shared goal of keeping the team safe and prepared always brought you back to the same page.

Conner had just wrapped up one of the most grueling missions he'd faced in weeks, tracking Clayface through the rancid, labyrinthine sewers beneath Gotham City. The mission had been long, messy, and exhausting. With Nightwing leading the operation, the team had managed to corner and neutralize Clayface, but not without a few close calls—and plenty of exposure to Gotham's less-than-pleasant underbelly. By the time they returned to the Cave, the stench of sewage clung stubbornly to Conner, his clothes ruined and his mood sour.

After a quick debrief in the command center, Conner wasted no time heading to the showers. The hot water was a welcome relief, scalding away the grime and the memory of slogging through filth. He scrubbed at his skin with almost aggressive determination, muttering under his breath about how the smell refused to go away. Finally, after what felt like forever, he emerged clean and refreshed, droplets of water still clinging to his short hair and glistening on his skin.

He made his way to your shared room in the Cave, his fatigue weighing heavy on him. The door creaked open, and as he stepped inside, the sight before him made every ounce of stress from the day begin to fade. You were lounging on the bed, wearing one of his black T-shirts, the oversized fabric swallowing your frame and hanging down to your thighs. It was comically large on you, but that only made it more endearing. You sat cross-legged, utterly engrossed in the book resting in your lap, your brow furrowed slightly as you turned the page.

At the sound of the door opening, you looked up, your expression softening instantly into a warm, affectionate smile. "Hey," you said, your voice light and soothing, as though you'd been waiting for him all day.

A small but genuine smile tugged at the corners of Conner's lips. "Hey," he replied, his voice still low and gravelly from exhaustion. Without a moment's hesitation, he crossed the room and climbed onto the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He didn't bother with words, didn't ask for permission—he simply made his way to you, resting his head on your stomach as he settled himself between your legs. His damp hair pressed against the fabric of the T-shirt you wore, the coolness of it a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin beneath. His strong arms slid around your waist, pulling you close as though anchoring himself to you.

You didn't need to ask what he needed. Over the years, you'd come to understand Conner's unspoken language. He wasn't one to articulate his emotions easily, but his actions said more than words ever could. The way his body relaxed against yours, the way his breath slowed, and the way his grip on your waist tightened slightly—it all told you exactly what he was seeking: comfort, grounding, and the peace that only you could provide.

Your hand moved instinctively to his hair, your fingers threading gently through the damp strands. You stroked with slow, deliberate motions, your touch light but firm, knowing how much he loved this simple gesture. Conner let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, the tension visibly melting from his body. His arms flexed briefly around your waist, pulling you just a little closer, as though to ensure you wouldn't slip away.

"Tough mission?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper as your fingers continued their soothing rhythm.

Conner hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes half-lidded as he let himself relax fully against you. "Clayface. Sewers. You can probably imagine the rest," he muttered, his tone laced with weariness.

You chuckled lightly, the sound vibrating gently against his cheek where it rested on your stomach. "Yikes," you teased. "Bet that smelled like roses."

A faint smirk tugged at his lips, his dry humor peeking through despite his exhaustion. "Yeah, real refreshing," he murmured, his voice softer now. "Definitely one for the books."

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that came so naturally after years of being together. The sounds of the Cave—distant footsteps, the hum of machinery—faded into the background. You set your book aside, your attention fully on Conner now, your hand never ceasing its slow, comforting movements through his hair. His breathing grew steadier, his shoulders losing the last remnants of their tension as he melted into you completely.

The quiet intimacy of the moment wrapped around you like a warm cocoon. Conner's grip on you was secure but gentle, his presence grounding you just as much as you grounded him. You couldn't help but smile as you looked down at him, his face peaceful and relaxed in a way that made your heart ache with love. These were the moments you cherished most—the quiet, unspoken ones where words weren't necessary, where just being together was enough to make the world feel right.

As the minutes stretched on, you leaned down to press a soft kiss to his temple, your lips lingering against his skin. Conner responded with a barely audible hum of contentment, his arms tightening briefly around your waist before relaxing again.

"You want a massage?" you asked softly, your fingers threading gently through Conner's damp hair. His head rested heavily on your stomach, his body fully relaxed against yours, and the rhythmic motion of your hand seemed to ease away the tension he carried after his grueling mission. His eyes were half-closed, his breathing steady, and for a moment, it seemed like he might drift off completely.

He didn't reply right away, as if weighing the question or simply savoring the comfort of the moment. Then, slowly, a familiar smirk crept onto his lips—the kind that sent a shiver of anticipation through you every time you saw it. His ocean-blue eyes fluttered open, the corners crinkling with mischief as he tilted his head slightly to look up at you.

"Nah," he murmured, his voice low and edged with a playful undertone that made your heart skip a beat. "But I do have another idea."

You raised an eyebrow, feigning suspicion, though your pulse quickened at the teasing glint in his eyes. "Oh? And what idea might that be, Mr. Kent?" you teased, your fingers momentarily pausing in his hair as you waited for his response.

Conner shifted lazily, propping himself up on his elbows so that he could get a better look at you. His smirk widened as his gaze swept over you, taking in the sight of you curled up on the bed, still wearing his oversized black T-shirt that fell just above your thighs. The amusement in his expression was almost predatory, his eyes darkening slightly as they met yours.

He didn't answer right away, letting the silence stretch. His hand moved with deliberate slowness, brushing against your thigh in a way that sent a jolt of warmth through you. His fingertips lingered, tracing idle patterns on your skin, the touch both teasing and intimate.

"Well," he drawled at last, his voice dipping into that deep, gravelly tone that always made your stomach flutter. "I was thinking..." He trailed off, leaning in closer, his face just inches from yours now. The smirk softened into something more tender but no less dangerous as his hand slid up your leg, his palm coming to rest firmly on your hip. "Maybe we could do something a little... more fun."

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, a mix of nervous energy and anticipation. "More fun?" you echoed, your hands instinctively moving to his shoulders, your fingertips grazing the solid warmth of his muscles beneath his shirt. "And what exactly do you have in mind, Conner?"

His chuckle rumbled low in his chest, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. He leaned in even closer, his forehead nearly brushing yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Why don't I show you?" he murmured, the suggestion laced with affection as much as mischief.

Before you could respond, he moved with effortless strength, his arms tightening around you as he shifted your positions in one fluid motion. You let out a surprised gasp as he flipped you onto your back, pinning you gently beneath him. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight, and the warmth of his body enveloped you as he braced himself above you.

His smirk was back, but there was a tenderness in his gaze now, a softness that made your breath catch. His hand remained on your hip, his thumb brushing gently over the fabric of the shirt you wore—his shirt. "You've been taking care of me all night," he said softly, his voice quieter now, laced with gratitude and something deeper. "I think it's my turn to take care of you."

Your heart raced as his lips found yours, the kiss starting slow, almost reverent. His mouth moved against yours with a tenderness that sent warmth blooming through your chest, but it didn't take long for the kiss to deepen. The passion that simmered beneath his calm exterior broke through, his lips pressing against yours more firmly, his hand sliding from your hip to the small of your back to pull you even closer.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, still slightly damp from his shower, as you kissed him back with equal fervor. Every movement, every touch felt electric, the world narrowing to just the two of you. Conner's weight above you was grounding, his warmth seeping into you, his presence wrapping around you like a cocoon.

He broke the kiss just long enough to meet your gaze, his forehead resting against yours as his breath came uneven. His eyes, now darker with emotion, held a mixture of love and desire that made your heart swell. "You're all I need," he whispered, the words so soft you almost didn't hear them over the sound of your own pounding heartbeat.

You smiled, your hands sliding down to his shoulders as you pulled him back down for another kiss. "Then don't let me go," you murmured against his lips, your voice just as quiet but filled with all the affection you felt.

Conner didn't reply with words—he didn't need to. The way his arms wrapped around you, the way his lips moved against yours, the way he held you as though you were the most precious thing in the world—it all spoke louder than anything he could have said. And in that moment, with the warmth of him pressed against you and the world fading into the background, you knew there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

His rough, calloused fingers slid beneath the hem of the oversized black shirt you wore—his shirt, which hung on your frame like a dress. The fabric bunched slightly as his hands traveled upward, the contrast of his warm touch against your skin sending shivers down your spine.

His movements were unhurried, almost teasing, as though he wanted to savor every moment. His eyes stayed locked on yours, the intensity in his ocean-blue gaze making your breath hitch. When his fingers found the waistband of your underwear, he paused, his lips quirking into a playful smile as though silently asking for permission. The anticipation was electric, crackling in the air between you.

You nodded, barely able to contain the heat rising in your body. That was all the confirmation Conner needed. Slowly, he slid your underwear down, his fingers grazing your hips and thighs as he removed the final barrier between you. The sensation was maddeningly soft, yet charged with an undeniable intimacy that left you feeling completely exposed—and utterly desired.

As your underwear slipped away, Conner's hand trailed back up, his touch firm yet gentle as his fingers brushed against your dick. His palm enveloped you, his grip warm and steady, and the simple act sent a surge of pleasure coursing through you. His movements were slow at first, deliberate, as if he were mapping every inch of you, learning the way your body responded to his touch.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against the curve of your jaw before murmuring in a low, husky tone, "You're perfect, you know that?"

The words made your pulse race, your heart pounding in your chest. Conner's gaze softened, though the intensity never wavered, and his hand moved with practiced care, each touch sending waves of pleasure rippling through you. There was something deeply intimate about the moment—more than just the physical connection, it was the way he looked at you, as if you were the only person in the world who mattered.

The shirt you wore—his shirt—slipped further up as he moved, exposing more of you to him. His free hand slid around your waist, holding you in place, anchoring you to him as his movements became more deliberate. The warmth of his touch, the weight of his body pressing against yours, and the sheer love in his gaze all combined to create a moment that felt nothing short of breathtaking.

"Conner..." you breathed, your voice barely a whisper as you felt yourself surrender completely to him. He smiled at the sound of your voice, leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss that was as passionate as it was tender.

His hand moved with deliberate slowness, sliding up and down your dick in a rhythm that was maddeningly precise, designed to make you unravel beneath his touch. The heat of his palm, the strength of his grip—firm but never rough—had your body responding instinctively, arching slightly into his hand as your breath hitched.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his deep voice dropping to a low, husky whisper that made your entire body tremble.

"You're so hard for me," he murmured, his words laced with a teasing edge that sent a flush of heat straight to your cheeks. His tone was rough, raw with desire, but there was also a playful affection in the way he spoke, like he loved seeing how easily you came undone in his hands.

"Look at you," he continued, his voice like velvet, each word dripping with intent. His grip tightened slightly as he stroked you, the added pressure drawing a quiet moan from your lips. "You're so perfect like this—so needy. You like when I touch you, don't you?"

Your heart raced, your breaths coming faster as his words hit you like a spark to kindling. Conner's hand never faltered, moving in a steady rhythm that left you teetering on the edge of control. He pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot just below your ear before continuing, his voice filled with a delicious mixture of command and tenderness.

"Every inch of you belongs to me," he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin with every word. "And I'm going to make sure you never forget it."

His free hand slid around your back, pulling you closer to him, as though he couldn't stand even a fraction of space between you. The heat of his body pressed against yours was overwhelming, and the way his words filled your ear—dirty, possessive, and utterly irresistible—made it impossible to focus on anything else.

"You're mine," he growled softly, the roughness in his voice sending another shiver down your spine. "And I'll make you feel so good you won't be able to think about anyone but me."

Every touch, every word, every deliberate stroke of his hand was a symphony of pleasure, building higher and higher until you felt like you might explode from the sheer intensity of it. Conner's lips brushed against your neck now, his teeth grazing your skin lightly as he whispered one final promise, his hand moving just a little faster, driving you closer to the brink.

"Let go for me," he murmured, his voice a mixture of command and reassurance. "I want to feel you completely lose control—just for me."

And with that, the overwhelming combination of his touch, his words, and his presence pushed you over the edge, your body surrendering completely to the man who held you like you were his entire world.

The tension in your body built to an almost unbearable peak, every nerve alight as Conner's skilled hand continued its deliberate rhythm. His grip, his pace, the heat of his touch—it was all too much and not enough at the same time. Your breath quickened, a series of soft gasps and quiet moans escaping your lips as you felt yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge.

Conner must have sensed it, because his lips found their way back to your ear, his voice a low, sultry murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. "That's it," he whispered, his tone both commanding and tender. "Don't hold back. Let me feel you."

His words were your undoing. The tension coiled deep inside you snapped all at once, and you cried out softly, your body arching instinctively into his hand as you reached your climax. A rush of heat surged through you, and you felt yourself release, your hot seed spilling over his hand in a wave of pure, unrelenting ecstasy.

Conner didn't stop, his hand slowing just enough to draw out every last pulse of pleasure, his touch grounding you even as your mind reeled. His other arm wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer as your body trembled against his.

"That's it," he murmured again, his lips brushing against your neck now, pressing soft kisses to your heated skin. "You're so beautiful when you let go like that."

You couldn't form words, your breath coming in uneven gasps as you tried to steady yourself. Conner's touch became gentler, soothing now, his thumb brushing lightly along your hip as his free hand reached for a nearby cloth to clean you up. His movements were tender, his eyes filled with a quiet affection that made your chest ache.

As he finished, Conner leaned back slightly, his gaze meeting yours. The corners of his lips turned upward in a small, knowing smile, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You okay?" he asked softly, his voice steady and warm.

You nodded, still catching your breath, and managed a faint smile in return. "More than okay," you murmured, your voice laced with both exhaustion and contentment.

Conner chuckled, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. "Good," he said simply, his tone filled with quiet pride. "Because I'm not done spoiling you yet."

Suddenly, Conner had you straddling his waist, your thighs resting firmly on either side of his hips as his hands roamed over your body with an intensity that made your pulse race. His calloused palms gripped your ass firmly, fingers digging in just enough to leave a lingering warmth against your skin. The strength of his touch sent a shiver through you, a perfect mix of control and affection that made you feel completely consumed by him.

He shifted beneath you slightly, his muscles flexing under your weight as he adjusted your position to pull you even closer. His lips curled into a teasing smirk as his hands tightened on your backside, the possessiveness in his gaze making your breath hitch. Without warning, he raised one hand and brought it down with a sharp, deliberate smack against your ass.

The sudden sting was quickly followed by a rush of heat that spread through your body, the sound of the slap echoing in the room. You gasped softly, the mixture of surprise and pleasure making your body instinctively arch toward him. Conner's smirk grew wider, his ocean-blue eyes darkening with desire as he watched your reaction closely.

"You like that?" he murmured, his voice low and rough, filled with a teasing edge that sent a thrill through you. Before you could respond, his hand came down again, another firm smack that made your skin tingle and your heart race. The way his strong hand lingered afterward, kneading the spot he had just struck, sent shivers down your spine.

He leaned forward, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck as his other hand slid up your back, holding you steady. "You drive me crazy," he whispered against your skin, his voice thick with raw affection and desire. His breath was hot, his kisses deliberate as he nipped lightly at your neck before trailing his tongue along the sensitive area.

His hand on your ass delivered another firm smack, the impact sending a jolt of pleasure through you. "I could do this all night," he muttered, his tone both playful and commanding as his lips moved back to claim yours in a kiss that was as consuming as it was passionate. His grip on you remained firm, his hands alternating between soothing caresses and sharp, tantalizing slaps that kept your body tingling with anticipation.

Every movement, every touch, every deliberate action reminded you just how deeply Conner desired you, his actions a perfect blend of strength, passion, and unwavering affection.

Your body pressed firmly against Conner's, your fingers tangled in his short, dark hair as his lips claimed yours with a fiery intensity. The kiss was deep and unrelenting, filled with passion that made the rest of the world fade into insignificance. Conner's hands gripped your waist firmly, pulling you impossibly closer, as if the space between you was unacceptable.

A low moan escaped your lips, muffled against his, as the heat between you built to an overwhelming crescendo. You felt his lips curve into a small, satisfied smile against your mouth, his body reacting to every sound you made. Breaking the kiss for a brief moment, you tilted your head slightly to whisper in his ear, letting out another soft moan, the sound raw and unfiltered. His sharp intake of breath and the way his grip tightened on you told you exactly how much it affected him.

Just as Conner's lips trailed down to your jawline, leaving a path of slow, deliberate kisses, a loud knock echoed through the room, startling you both. The sound cut through the intimate atmosphere like a knife, and you felt Conner stiffen beneath you, his grip on your waist momentarily freezing.

A low growl of frustration rumbled in his chest as he turned his head toward the door, his expression shifting into one of pure annoyance. Without letting go of you or breaking the connection between your bodies, he raised his voice, his tone sharp and commanding.

"Go away," Conner barked, the edge in his voice leaving no room for argument.

You couldn't help but smile at the irritation lacing his words, finding his reaction both protective and endearing. His attention shifted back to you almost instantly, his hands moving back to your hips as he resumed where he left off, his lips brushing against your neck now.

"They better not knock again," he muttered against your skin, his voice low and full of barely restrained frustration. The way his breath warmed your neck sent shivers down your spine, and the momentary interruption quickly melted away as Conner's focus returned entirely to you.

The knock may have broken the rhythm for a moment, but the intensity between you two reignited almost immediately, pulling you both back into the heat of the moment as if nothing had happened.

Conner's body was taut beneath you, every muscle coiled with tension as the heat between you both continued to build. His breaths came heavier, his chest rising and falling beneath your hands, and you could feel the unmistakable hardness pressing against you. His arousal was evident, firm and insistent, a clear sign of just how much he wanted you.

The way his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, left no room for doubt. Conner's smirk turned devilish as he shifted slightly beneath you, making you acutely aware of the growing pressure. "You're killing me," he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire, his ocean-blue eyes locked onto yours with a gaze that felt like it could set you on fire.

As you shifted in his lap, the friction only made the tension between you more palpable. His arousal strained against the fabric of his pajamas, firm and ready to break free from its confines. The way his body reacted to every subtle movement of yours sent shivers of anticipation through you, and the intensity in his expression made it clear he wasn't planning on holding back much longer.

His hands slid up your thighs, his touch deliberate and teasing as his lips found their way to your neck once again. "You've got me ready to lose control," he whispered against your skin, his tone filled with equal parts affection and raw, unfiltered want. The promise in his voice was enough to make your heart race as you felt the full extent of his desire, firm and eager to join the moment.

Conner removed his hands from your body briefly, his gaze locked onto yours as he reached for the waistband of his pajamas. The tension in the air was almost palpable, each second feeling like an eternity as he slowly pushed both his pajamas and underwear down in one fluid motion. The fabric slid over his hips, revealing the taut, sculpted muscles of his lower body, every inch of his physique a testament to his raw strength.

And then, there it was—his dick sprang free, standing proudly, thick and fully erect. At nine inches, it was impossible to ignore, commanding attention with its sheer size and firmness. The sight alone sent a rush of heat through your body, making your breath catch in your throat. The way he exuded confidence, his body radiating a natural, effortless dominance, only added to the allure.

Conner's smirk widened slightly as he noticed your reaction, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with a mixture of affection and desire. He stepped closer, the tension in his movements now replaced with a sense of ease and purpose. His hands found their way to your hips, pulling you closer as his body pressed against yours, the heat of his skin intoxicating.

"You've got me all worked up," he murmured, his deep voice low and teasing as his fingers brushed lightly against your sides. The weight of his dick against you was undeniable, a reminder of the intensity simmering between you two.

The moment was electric, the anticipation thick in the air and before you knew it, Conner's hands gripped your hips firmly, his touch grounding and steady as he positioned himself beneath you. The heat of his body pressed against yours, and his ocean-blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Every movement he made was deliberate, filled with purpose, as if he wanted to savor every moment leading up to this.

His dick, thick and pulsing with anticipation, rested heavily against you. You could feel its heat, its weight, as he shifted slightly, aligning himself with your entrance. The sheer size of him made you gasp softly, your body trembling with a mix of excitement and nerves. Conner's hands slid back up to your sides, his thumbs brushing soothing circles into your skin as he leaned in closer.

"Relax," he murmured, his voice low and full of reassurance. His lips found the curve of your jaw, pressing gentle kisses there as he adjusted his position. His dick pressed lightly against your ass now, the sensation sending a spark of heat through your body. The deliberate way he moved, slow and measured, showed how much care he was taking—not just to avoid rushing, but to ensure you were ready for him.

His gaze flicked back to yours, his blue eyes softened with affection but still darkened with desire. "Tell me if it's too much," he said softly, his hands tightening slightly on your hips as he aligned himself perfectly with your hole. The pressure was subtle at first, a promise of what was to come, but it was enough to make your breath hitch and your heart race.

Every touch, every movement felt charged with emotion as Conner held you steady, his body and his presence radiating both strength and tenderness. This was more than just physical—it was intimate, personal, a moment that seemed to transcend words as he prepared to join with you completely.

Your hands gripped Conner's strong shoulders for balance as you slowly began to move, your body adjusting to the fullness of him. The first motion was tentative, deliberate, as you raised yourself just slightly before sliding back down, taking him deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, every inch of him stretching and filling you in a way that made your breath hitch and your heart race.

Conner's hands remained firm on your hips as he guided your movements with subtle pressure, his touch a blend of control and encouragement. His ocean-blue eyes stayed locked on yours, his gaze filled with both awe and desire as he watched you take him, inch by inch. The way his chest rose and fell with deep, uneven breaths told you he was holding back, letting you set the pace.

As you moved again, the motion became smoother, more confident. Slowly, you began to find a rhythm, rising up and sliding back down, feeling every ridge and curve of him as you did. The sensation sent waves of pleasure through your body, building steadily with each motion. Conner's low groan rumbled through the air, his fingers digging into your hips just enough to send a delicious shiver down your spine.

"You feel so good," Conner murmured, his voice rough and filled with raw emotion. His head tilted back slightly, exposing the strong line of his jaw, but his eyes never left you. His hands began to move with you, guiding your rhythm as you continued to ride him, the intensity between you growing with every passing moment.

The connection between you was electric, every touch, every motion building a tension that seemed to radiate through the room. Conner's quiet groans and whispered encouragements spurred you on, his voice wrapping around you like a warm embrace as you continued to move together in perfect harmony.

Soon Conner's fingers pressed into your skin just enough to ground you. You could feel the subtle shift in his energy, his need to guide you taking over as his hands began to set a rhythm, slowly increasing your pace.

"Let me take care of you," Conner murmured, his voice low and husky, filled with both affection and desire. His eyes met yours, their ocean-blue depths darkened with passion, and the look he gave you made your breath catch. His grip on your waist tightened slightly as he moved you, raising your body just enough before lowering you back down onto him, the deliberate motion making you take him deeper.

The change in pace was subtle at first, his guidance smooth and controlled, but you could feel his need building with each motion. His powerful hands worked in perfect synchronization with your body, lifting and guiding you to move faster, the rhythm between you becoming more intense. The sensation of him filling you completely, again and again, was almost overwhelming, pleasure radiating through you with every movement.

"You feel so damn good," Conner groaned, his voice roughened by the sheer intensity of the moment. His hands slid slightly up your waist, his thumbs brushing against your ribs as he continued to guide you, his strength making the faster pace feel effortless. The sound of your bodies moving together filled the room, accompanied by his soft groans and your quiet moans, the connection between you electric and all-consuming.

As he urged you to go faster, his own hips began to rise slightly to meet your movements, the added force sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His head tilted back slightly, his lips parting as he let out a deep, guttural moan that made your heart race. His hands never faltered, holding you steady and ensuring every movement brought you both closer to the edge.

"Just like that," Conner whispered, his voice dripping with both encouragement and need. The rhythm between you built steadily, the intensity growing with every second as his hands guided you faster, harder, deeper. The room seemed to blur around you, leaving only the feeling of him beneath you, his touch on your skin, and the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you both.

Before you could fully register the shift, Conner's strong hands moved with purpose, gripping your hips as he adjusted his angle. In one fluid motion, he leaned forward, gently pushing you onto your back while still buried deep inside you. The sheer strength and control of his movements sent a shiver through your body, the sudden change in position amplifying the intensity of your connection.

Your back pressed against the mattress as Conner hovered over you, his broad shoulders and sculpted frame casting a shadow over you. His hands slid to your thighs, gripping them firmly as he repositioned himself, adjusting his angle with precision. His piercing blue eyes met yours, the intensity in his gaze stealing your breath.

"Hold on to me," he murmured, his voice low and filled with both command and affection. The sound sent a jolt of heat straight through you, and without thinking, your hands found their way to his back, your fingers digging into his firm muscles.

Conner's hips began to move again, the deliberate thrusts sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, each motion hitting places that left you gasping. His pace was steady at first, a mix of controlled power and tenderness, as if he wanted to savor every moment of being this close to you. His gaze never wavered, watching your every reaction as if committing them to memory.

"Damn," he groaned, his voice rough with desire as his hands slid along your thighs, pulling you closer to him. His thrusts grew faster, his hips meeting yours with increasing urgency as he surrendered to the intensity building between you. The sound of your bodies moving together filled the room, accompanied by the deep, guttural groans that escaped his lips and the breathless moans spilling from yours.

His head dipped lower, his lips finding your neck as he pressed kisses to your heated skin. The combination of his movements and the sensation of his warm breath against your neck left you completely overwhelmed, your body arching beneath him in response. His hands slid up to your waist, holding you steady as his rhythm became more forceful, his need for you evident in every deliberate thrust.

Each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The room felt electric, every nerve in your body alight as he drove deeper into you, his hips moving with an unrelenting pace. Your breath hitched, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders for stability, but nothing could ground you against the overwhelming sensations.

"Conner..." you moaned, his name spilling from your lips without thought, raw and filled with the intensity of everything he was making you feel. Your voice trembled, the sound echoing in the heated air between you. The way his name left your lips seemed to spark something in him, his movements becoming even more deliberate, each thrust hitting deeper, harder.

Hearing you call his name made Conner groan deeply, his breath warm and heavy as he leaned closer, his body pressing against yours. His blue eyes darkened with desire, locking onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless. "Say it again," he growled softly, his voice low and filled with a mix of command and need.

"Conner," you gasped again, louder this time, the sound unfiltered as the heat between you built to an almost unbearable peak. His hands tightened on your waist, his grip firm as he pulled you closer, his thrusts coming faster now, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through you. Your body arched beneath him, completely at his mercy as his name tumbled from your lips over and over, a desperate chant that only seemed to spur him on.

"Just like that," he murmured, his voice thick and ragged as he pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "Let me hear you. I want to hear how good I make you feel."

His pace quickened even more, his hips moving with a raw, unrelenting passion that left you clinging to him, your nails digging into his shoulders. The sounds of his groans, the slap of skin against skin, and your own voice calling his name filled the room, a symphony of unrestrained desire as he drove you both closer to the edge. Conner's strength, his control, and the sheer depth of his connection to you left you completely undone, your moans of his name the only thing you could manage as he pushed you to heights you'd never imagined.

The pleasure built inside you, overwhelming and unstoppable, as Conner's relentless pace drove you closer and closer to the edge. Your body tensed, your breath hitching sharply as you felt the rising heat coil deep within you, ready to burst. Each thrust sent another jolt of pleasure through you, the intensity mounting until you couldn't hold back any longer.

With a sharp cry of his name, you surrendered completely, your body arching against him as you released. A stream of your hot seed spilled out, the sensation crashing over you like a tidal wave. The release was overwhelming, leaving your mind blank and your body trembling in his grasp. Your nails dug into Conner's shoulders, your moans spilling freely from your lips as the waves of pleasure rippled through you, one after another.

Conner groaned deeply, his breath ragged as he held you steady, his strong hands gripping your hips to keep you in place. His eyes flickered down to take in the sight of you completely undone beneath him, your chest heaving, your cheeks flushed, and your release marking the moment with undeniable evidence of the connection you shared.

"You're so damn handsome," he murmured, his voice low and full of awe as his pace slowed slightly, letting you ride out the final tremors of your climax. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he continued to move within you, savoring the closeness and the heat radiating between your bodies.

The moment felt infinite, your body still trembling from the force of your release as Conner's steady presence anchored you. His lips brushed against your cheek, his hands gently caressing your sides as he whispered, "We're not done yet." The promise in his voice sent another shiver through you, and despite the blissful exhaustion settling in, you couldn't help but crave more.

Suddenly, Conner's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers pressing into your skin as he buried himself deeper inside you. His thrusts became faster, harder, and more relentless, the sheer power behind them taking your breath away. It was as though he'd reached a breaking point, his self-control unraveling as he chased his own release with an intensity that left you completely at his mercy.

"God, you feel so good," Conner growled, his voice rough and strained, each word punctuated by the force of his movements. His head dipped down, his lips finding the crook of your neck as he kissed and nipped at your skin, his breath hot and uneven against you. The sounds he made—deep, guttural groans that seemed to come from deep within his chest—only added to the electricity crackling between you.

Your body rocked with every thrust, the sheer power of his movements sending waves of pleasure coursing through you all over again. His pace was unrelenting, his hips snapping forward as he lost himself completely in the moment, his need for you driving him into overdrive. The room was filled with the rhythmic sound of your bodies moving together, accompanied by his moans and your breathless gasps, the air thick with heat and passion.

Conner's grip on you became almost desperate as his pace quickened even more, his thrusts deep and hard, pushing both of you to the brink. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles coiled beneath your hands as he reached his limit. His breath came in ragged gasps, his groans growing louder and more primal with each thrust.

"Can't hold it anymore," Conner growled, his voice rough and raw as he thrust into you one final time, burying himself as deeply as he could. His body tensed, and with a low, guttural moan, he released, a hot surge of his seed spilling inside you. The heat of it sent a shiver through your body, the sensation overwhelming as you felt every pulse of his release.

Conner stayed buried inside you, his body trembling slightly as he let out a long, shuddering breath. His arms slid around you, pulling you close as he rested his forehead against yours, his ocean-blue eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and satisfaction.

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice soft and filled with a quiet reverence as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. His hands moved to caress your sides, his touch soothing as you both basked in the afterglow, the intensity of the moment leaving you breathless and utterly content in each other's arms.

After a moment of stillness, Conner let out a deep, contented sigh and slowly pulled out of you, his movements gentle and careful. The absence of him left a mix of relief and longing, but his warm presence remained as he immediately shifted closer, wrapping his strong arms around you. The weight of his body against yours and the soothing rhythm of his breathing anchored you in the moment, bringing a quiet sense of comfort and safety.

He pulled the blanket over the both of you, tucking it snugly around your shoulders as you nestled into his chest. His fingers traced idle patterns along your back, a tender gesture that made your body relax further into his embrace. The steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, combined with the warmth of his skin, lulled you into a state of pure tranquility. Your eyes grew heavier, the exhaustion from the intensity of the moment pulling you closer to sleep.

Just as your breaths started to slow, the peaceful atmosphere was interrupted by a sudden, sharp knock at the door. The sound startled you awake, and you felt Conner stiffen beside you, his body instantly alert. His protective instincts kicked in immediately, and without a word, he reached for the blanket, pulling it up to cover you completely before sliding out of bed.

"Stay here," he murmured softly, his voice low and reassuring as he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. He grabbed his boxers from the floor, slipping them on with practiced ease before making his way to the door. His movements were fluid but purposeful, his broad shoulders and muscular frame silhouetted in the dim light as he approached.

Conner placed a hand on the doorknob, pausing for a brief moment to glance back at you. His expression softened when he saw you peeking out from beneath the covers, and he gave you a small, reassuring smile before turning his attention back to the door.

Conner cracked the door open just enough to see who was on the other side, his body positioned to block the view of the room. When he saw M'gann standing there, her expression bright and hopeful, he let out a quiet sigh, his irritation easing into polite patience.

"Conner," M'gann said, her tone light and cheerful as she leaned slightly into the doorway. "We're all about to sit down for dinner. I thought maybe you'd want to join us?"

Conner glanced back toward the bed for a brief moment, his protective instincts kicking in as he ensured you were still tucked away and comfortable. Then, turning back to M'gann, he gave her a polite but firm smile. "Thanks, M'gann, but I'm going to pass tonight," he said, his voice calm and even. "I've already got plans."

M'gann's expression faltered slightly, the smile on her face tightening for a brief moment, but she quickly recovered. "Oh... okay," she said, trying to keep her tone casual. "Maybe next time?"

"Yeah, maybe," Conner replied, his tone kind but noncommittal as he gently closed the door. He stood there for a moment, letting out a small sigh before turning back toward you, his expression softening the instant his gaze landed on you.

Sliding back under the covers, Conner wrapped his arms around you once more, pulling you close against his chest. "Sorry about that," he muttered, his voice low and soothing as he pressed a kiss to your temple. "Now, where were we?"

You smiled sleepily, your head resting against his chest as you let the warmth of his embrace pull you back into the peaceful haze of sleep. "Right here," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Conner chuckled lightly, his grip on you tightening just enough to remind you that you were safe and loved. "Exactly," he said, his tone filled with quiet affection. "Just us. Always." And with that, the world faded away again, leaving only the sound of his heartbeat and the warmth of his arms as you drifted back into sleep.

[belphegorey]

⌜power, asmodeus⌟ his long wait had only caused him to need more ships ⎯⎯ asmodeus x afab!reader tropes ⎯⎯ vaginal sex, masturbation [asmo], unprotected sex, biting, slight nipple play, praise, pact marks, simp asmo who is poly, i haven't slept so errors im assuming

The Avatar of Lust was many things; beautiful, seductive, caring… but he was not desperate. The very word was an insult to his very character. Desperate. He was not greed, he was certainly not envy — Asmodeus was pure lust. 

Others with his need may resign to the fate of need, but not him. Never him. Asmodeus could have anyone throughout the entire Devildom should he choose, all it would take was a smile and wave of his fingers. They were the ones desperate for him. Never the other way around. 

Until you. Pesky, gorgeous, witty you. Someone with patience high enough to tolerate Mammon, someone with care enough to forgive Belphegor… someone completely unattainable. Since he had met you, Asmodeus knew that you were someone he wanted. Another person that he could entertain himself with whenever the feeling hit (a constant emotion) and someone he could enjoy spa days with. 

But — nothing! He was granted nothing. Your joined spa days always ended with your declining if a shared bath. The shared meals never involved you licking his fingers of sweet dessert. The days wandering together through RAD didn’t include misadventures of exploring one another in abandoned rooms. 

Had it been anyone else, Asmodeus would have won. He would have awarded himself the pleasure of his victory. But not with you. You rejected his every advancement, danced with his flirting and ignored the growing need he felt with every passing day. His head was heavy. What was he to do? He craved you, the taste of your sweet skin below him as he gorged on the sin you allured. 

None of the others he sought out satiated the carnal need. The succubi he would tempt never held the same shine in their eyes that you had. The moans of each demon he fucked were not the exact right pitch. 

Asmodeus was desperate. He had long since given up on attempting to replace you. It only made him need you more. He laid alone in his canopy bed, curtains pulled taught in bows and the lights dim. The air was sickly hot on his body, he felt the sweat glisten down his naked skin. 

The fire of his lust burned hot within him. All day, the longest day he could recall, Asmodeus had tasted the delicious taste that was your need. Leftover remnants from your nightly adventures with… not him. All his brothers had found you, had taken you, had gorged themselves on your love. It would not bother him, it should not be, but the agony he felt was overwhelming. 

Weeks. He had survived weeks of being deprived of sex. And the only thing he was gifted were the crumbs of his brothers that radiated in your form. Why did they get to feel you first? They could never treat you correctly. Asmodeus was the ultimate personification of lust. No one could topple his throne. 

Yet, even if he had just been given an invitation to watch, he would have agreed with complete eagerness. An invitation to join in would have been a glorious dream. And still there was nothing! Not even a footnote for dear Asmodeus. 

He licked his lips. Even the crumbs of your lust were a delicacy. Still, he could smell your arousal through the home, even when his bedroom had never been granted the proper treatment, he could feel it around him. 

Downstairs, most likely in your own bedroom, but not alone. Asmodeus could recall the previous week when he had stayed in your bed with you for the night. Just sleeping. Yet, tonight it was… Lucifer… in your chambers with you. The musky scent that was the eldest’s lust wafted around with your lingering desire. 

Asmodeus closed his eyes and moaned as he cascades his hand down his stomach. He allowed himself the fantasy. You and he, tangled together in your cute little bed, watched by the envious Lucifer.

No. No, he needed you alone. He had been tortured enough, he could show off your pleasure in repeating days. Your scent was growing, the scent that was once turning weak shone bright. Asmodeus bit his lip and ran a finger along the slit of his erection. How mortifying. Self-gratification was not something he did. Why masturbate when he could instead have sex?

It would do. The weakness in his veins from his sudden abstinence could not continue. The beads of sweat gathered on his forehead as Asmodeus bucked into the grip of his hand. Desperation. Envy. Need. It was as though he was Leviathan, but even he had been able to taste you. 

He fantasised you on top of him. Thighs around his hips, bare cunt pressed to his erection and leaking with the desire he could smell. You would be so worried, just as you had been all day about his state of wellness (the missed skin care routine had been an obvious sign, he assumed) and you would treat him with such care. Your hands, nice and cold, along his face and caressing him while he leaned in to the touch. 

Even though Asmodeus would feign a worse state of weakness, you would allow him. You would sigh and giggle at his flirting and whimper at the twitching of his erection against you. “Just your touch is healing me, my love,” before a false cough that would make you pout. Your sweet kiss would follow, something he had only felt once before. 

He still fondly dreamed of the kiss, even though the moment was bittersweet. A goodbye. He had been so scared he would never see you again. The months that followed, with you missing from the Devildom, were torturous. More torturous than knowing you were with his brothers not him. 

Asmodeus rubbed the head of his cock with a whimper. Oh, how he craved you. The darling flower that tantalised his garden. The one who he was unable to charm. The beauty to compliment his own. His erection twitched in his palm, slick precum slipping between. 

You would look even more magnificent with the very cum glistening on your face. Others could not smell the desire as well as he, the would need the visual reminder. It was not that you were his alone, but it was best they had knowledge of your favourite demon to fuck. The one you loved most. Him. 

Perhaps he was greedy for you. Asmodeus felt himself shiver in excitement just at the idea of getting to say you were his. Both if you would be shared, but, just like the previous week, it was only you who would share his bed at nights. 

You were moving. Upstairs now, far closer to his bedroom. He could smell you better now. The intricacies, no longer clouded by the musk of Lucifer, was overwhelming his senses. His body gyrated just at the taste in his tongue. So unfiltered, raw, carnal. Unlike anything else he had tried. The strength… you must have completely drenched the underwear you wore. Better yet, there was nothing and all the need was slipping down your thighs.

He was sure that even his brothers would be able to feel the sin along your aura. It was that magnificently strong. He moaned into his hazy room, you were such a powerful sorcerer and yet you were still so soft with the world. Your gentle hands could lock him in place with a single wave, your lips could command him with ease, and yet you preferred to do neither. Such calmness to control the ocean of power. 

You walked up to his room, he could sense your feet pause before his door. Was it… him you finally wanted to see? Asmodeus nearly lost control just at the idea. Pearly white droplets spilled into his stomach, only a few to glitter his skin like stars in the sky. Still you hadn’t moved — it was torture on his mind. 

Did you want to tell him off for letting himself weaken?

Did you want to punish him for being so selfish?

Did you want to take care of him?

Did you finally wanted to touch him like he needed to touch you?

Asmodeus fisted the duvet beneath his sticky skin, using the closed grip of his hand on his cock as a fleshlight. He hadn’t the strength to collect his actual toys from the collection across his room. Already, he felt the beginning sparks of rejuvenation across his chest. Your sweet desire was the key. His blood was boiling and his inferno raged on. 

“Asmo?” Just the sound of your voice had him groaning. No one could mimic it. Not even the best of shapeshifting demons could. You slipped into his room without hesitation, closing the door behind you. 

A sweet gazelle entering the den of a lion. Asmodeus was almost scared for you, but the undeniable pleasure that came from you just being near him triumphed. He grew giddy, blessing his face with a sweet smile despite how his hips continued to gyrate. 

“My love,” his voice was raspy, Asmodeus frowned due to it. There was none of his usual lilt, the airy joy he spoke with. He was sure that even his talent in seductive speech craft would suffer, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

He couldn’t stop himself from continuing. Even as you walked closer and your face illuminated in the sun candlelight around him. The sparkle in your eyes made his heart burn and his spine shiver. Each moment you gazed down at him, Asmodeus felt the tingle of his love burn down his skin. The sounds were so beautiful. Each wet thrust of his cock into his fist, now gazed upon by your beauty, glee flourished within him. 

You weren’t questioning him. It was not the first time you’d walked in on one of them masturbating. He could still remember the adorable blush on Leviathan’s cheeks the morning after you had interrupted him. But he was not so shy. Asmodeus would never be embarrassed by something as beautiful as sex — as lust. 

“Can I…” a cute pause entered your speech as you admired him once more. He felt so proud, so loved, it was as though your sweet worship was being played before his throne. He let his eyes fall shut under your eyes, blissfully moaning as he followed the pleasure within him. 

When your soft, cool, hand cupped his cheek, Asmodeus only whimpered louder. He knew, he knew, that you would be the glorious treatment to his burning need. There was a dip in the bed, his body leaned to follow, but Asmodeus did not question you. Never. Whatever you desired, he would happily provide. 

He heard the sweet stammer in your tone, it made his heart melt in delight. Such sweet sin drifted from your pores and onto his lips. “… No, let me help.” Confidence. How beautiful. You straddled him, thighs pushing against his plush mattress and your wrist halting his hand. Asmodeus opened his eyes, almost in disbelief just so he could take in the glory above him. 

The sight would never be matched. It must be how those lower felt when gazing upon him. The candles around you both made an angelic glow. The cascade of your hair was the shadow of the lust between you. The sparkle in your eyes… they were stars he watched each night. “You want to help me, darling?”

You had listened to him — right atop his aching erection was the slick paradise he had wished for, completely free of underwear. The short nightgown you wore was nice and thin, your nipples were hard against the material. No wonder even Lucifer had fallen to your charm. There would be no one strong enough to survive. “I know you need it, love,” the words were mere whispers in the thick air between you. Your back arched straight as you rubbed yourself against him. Sweet wetness coated his dick, teasing him as he grew closer. “We both do.”

Asmodeus felt his eyes roll back. How long had it been since he lost control over grinding? It had never been his favourite act to play, not when there was so many he could use to entertain everyone. Yet, the will in your words and the delicious taste of your lust was convincing him of more. “I’ve needed you for a very long time.”

“As have I,” you lifted your crotch from his for only a moment, the healing hand positioning his dick for him. Such determination clouded your eyes, thick lust burning in glorious pink. The pact mark along your chest, above the heart he had longed for, matched in colour. It’s hue glowed through your gown and cast your face in beauty.

To know you wanted him. It nearly felt impossible. So many times had he offered you more, even grew close to begging, and you gave him nothing. A giggle, a light shove of his shoulder — at most a kiss on his cheek. Nothing to show him that his desire was returned. “My angel -“

“Silence, Asmodeus,” slowly he felt you take his tip. The Celestial Realm had no pleasure quite like yours. He was always happy for sex, always enjoyed it, but he was not prepared for this. It was different yet so familiar. His senses burned in the lust shared between you. “Let me take care of us both.”

He placed his hands on your body, groping at every nip of skin he could. His mouth was open, pleasure rocking his heart in the ocean of need. Weeks without sex had caused complete weakness in his body, and yet it was entirely worth it. 

Asmodeus would even do it again if it meant getting to have you all over again. 

Your hips dropped and met his, a short moan blessing his ears. All he could feel was the tingle of glory all around him. Overwhelming in how snug you were, how wet and eager you were. He watched your head fall back, the glow of his candles now brighter behind your beautiful shadow. 

“All I’ve been thinking about is you, Asmo,” his hands slipped up your torso. Even with that tug in his gut threatening his long pent-up release, Asmodeus took his time to dance his fingers along your skin. The sparkle of sweat beaded on your skin just as it did his own. A memento if the union you shared. When he found your breasts, he was no worse than Mammon in his greed. “You have no idea just how hard it’s been denying you.”

Asmodeus sat up, the tingle in his spine burned in a powerful roar. He felt stronger than he had in days. Weeks, even. His hair bounced along his forehead, baby hairs sticking just barely to him. The power of lust was powerful. Far more powerful than people gave him credit for. Lust was raw. It was pure passion. Passion that Asmodeus wanted to shower you in for a millennia. 

His lips found your nipples over the thin gown. Your sweet gasp was everything, the burning pink beneath only glowing brighter. You bounced on him, snug and warm as you taunted him further. Asmodeus retaliated with a roll of his thumb over your other nipple, grazing his teeth on the skin. He could feel the wings crack through his back, only slowly as his power refilled. 

“My demon,” your voice was a high lilt of pleasure as you rode him. Asmodeus moved with each bounce to push himself deeper. Each clench and whimper made his ego fly. The sweetest of giggles played between you, and he couldn’t stop from joining in. Though his shared giggle was muted against your breast, he could feel the way your heart sped. Such a similar effect you had on him. The honorary angel to his wicked demon. 

You moved like a succubus as you pushed him back down against the bed. His lips fell from your breast and dismay had him frown. Only for the sweet taste of your lips to slot against his. Slightly chapped, as delicious as the sin you created, and so perfectly you that Asmodeus moaned against you. 

He helped you bounce your hips, squeezing the swell of your ass that had taunted him for far too long. Every outfit you wore, each one he chose for you, never showcased it enough. You broke away to gasp at his hands, but Asmodeus chased your lips back to his own. 

So long. He had dreamed of your kiss for months. Years at this point. It was just as good as your cunt around him. It felt like power even flowed through the tangle of your sweet kiss. “Allow me the honour,” he whispered, hands making your hips move faster. 

Each movement was almost sloppy in its speed, though that was were the beauty came from. Sex was a work of art, and you were the finest painter he had found. The sweet symphony of your shared noises would haunt Asmodeus every moment he was gifted the opportunity to see you. The glow of the candles around you was a visage he could never forget. You — he could never forget. 

The press of your chest against his felt fantastic, your nipples almost rolling with each jump of your body. He could feel it, you were almost at the top of your peak. Asmodeus was almost fanatical as he moved you both. The chase was never his favourite part, but yet again he was questioning it all. 

Your body was just perfect on top of him. The squeeze of your cunt, the breathy way you moaned, and the warm gaze you watched him with… perfect. His thumb circled your clit, admiring how your body danced for him in response. Your lip wobbled as you pressed kisses to his collarbone, pleas whispered against him. 

And when it happened, Asmodeus felt rejuvenated in power and life. Your squeal was pitched high and almost silent from how you rubbed against his neck. Your body shuddered in his hands, warm cum slipping down his shaft. He let himself fall in tandem. His wings broke through the skin of his back as his cum spilled inside of you. Your name fell from his lips as he moaned in ecstasy, holding you closer than he had before. 

© belphegorey 2024 ⌜18+ banner from @/cafekitsune thank you <3⌟

also ⎯⎯ what happened between lucifer and you is that he walked in on you masturbating you dirty bitch [affectionate I love u mwah] and then said go check on asmo before running away also also ⎯⎯ i can’t remember if it’s canon or not but i do have this headcanon that asmo lowkey works similar to an incubus where he can deprive power from sex. it won’t kill him without but he is stronger when having sex/orgasmed 

[ozzy-boy]

What does an average day look like for Cole? Well...

-Cole wakes several minutes before your alarm is set to go off. He's gotten awfully good at that, ensuring he gets a few minutes to stare at your beautiful sleeping face before the world whisks you away from him.

-He trails the tips of his fingers through your hair, over your face, down your arm... Often pausing mid stroke to admire your features. If he happens to sneak a few small kisses while he's at it, then that's his little secret.

-He pretends to wake at the same time as you once the alarm starts to ring, smiling while your sleepy face scrunches from the noise. You mumble an apology for waking him up as usual, and he responds that he doesn't mind at all, as usual.

-Cole spend the next several minutes as he usually does: tempting you away from your duties to spend the day with him in bed. He kisses you, trails his hands over your body, whispering promises of love and desire, trying to convince you to give in. He's the devil on your shoulder, the snake guiding you towards the apple.

-As usual, he does not succeed. You allow him to spin his web of promises, laying with him and basking in his love and getting a few more precious moments of rest, before you pull away with an apologetic smile already playing across your lips. You remind him that you had work that day.

-It's okay, Cole doesn't let it get him down. There was always tomorrow to try again, after all.

-You slip away to shower. It's roughly 50/50 on Cole joining you, depending on how he feels. Many days, Cole will follow behind and slip into the warm water behind you to continue his temptations. Trailing his hands and lips as far as you'll let him, offering his 'services' if you so desire.

-Today, he decides against it. Instead, he gets up, seeing no reason to remain in a bed that you weren't in. He begins preparing breakfast for you, only feeling mild regret when he hears you humming from the other room.

-Once you're clean, dressed, and fed, you run off to work leaving Cole to find a way to bide his time.

-He'll usually go on a run. Health and proper exercise is important, after all. And if he happens to run past your workplace once or twice (or a dozen times) then that's purely coincidence.

-Once he's done, he'll head back home to shower and get lunch prepared. He'll fix something up nice and lovingly before going back to your work all over again to deliver it.

-You forgot your lunch! You silly Marshmallow, you. If he's able, he'll try and convince you to sneak away and eat with him. Although, if you're particularly busy then you'll simply take the lunch he packed you with a quick thanks and a kiss, which is perfectly fine with him.

-Although after lunch, he's run out of excuses to see you, meaning that he has to wait for you to be finished with work. He'll do some work, or perhaps some reading or shopping. Or perhaps he'll do some... 'checking in', with your acquaintances. The usual. Most of it essentially amounts to twiddling his thumbs while wondering when you'd finally be freed.

-God forbid you had errands you wanted to run after work. Cole gets steadily more and more antsy when the two of you are separated. The anticipation of seeing you again kills him. Sometimes it's hard to even remember what he did before meeting you.

-When you finally come back home after your long work day, you find Cole waiting like always. He sweeps you into a hug and a kiss, eager and desperate, like a man possessed by his desires.

-Cole loves to spoil you. Chances are he'll force you to sit back and relax while he handles everything. Dinner, a massage, drawing a warm bath to relax in, anything you want and he'll rush to get it to you as quick as possible. Nothing makes him happier than taking care of you.

-Finally, he finds himself again in his favorite place in the world- snuggled up in bed with you, clinging to your body like he would die without your body heat.

-He watches you drift off to sleep, not allowing himself to rest until after you're already deep in slumber. Every moment by your side is priceless.

-And he can't wait to do it all over again tomorrow.

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Shiver Me Timbers! (18+)

pairing: pirate captain!seungcheol x siren!reader

genre: fantasy au, smut, pure smut with a fair amount of plot imo (MNDI pls), a little angst at the end

description: as seungcheol's ship drags up the shore, you watch from afar, eyes on the prize

warnings: PIRATE DIRTY TALK HELP, SLIGHT DUBCON bc hes u know a little under her spell, unrealistic ass transformation from fish 2 person, desperation, big dumb whiny cheol, bottom!cheol, kinda switch!reader, teasing, tiddie play, tiddie sucking, fairly graphic character death (drowning), seungcheol fucks yn like a ragdoll hihi, hes still bottom here tho, yn just has her tiddies OUT #progressive #2023

quotes from my proofreader: "I WAS WET!!", "he is soooo silly and sexy"

wordcount: 3.0k

“Anchor comin’ down!” 

“Aye!” 

There’s a mighty splash when the rusty anchor collides with the surface of the water. The chain clinks as it plummets, until it’s kicking up a storm on the sandy seafloor and the ship is safely secured. The Barbaric Seventeen is rocking like a mother rocks her young, gently swinging from the onslaught of waves from the North. 

“Another safe map-navigation performed by the great Woozi!” Seungcheol speaks from where he’s perched on the head of the ship, one knee bent to sit his foot atop the wooden railing. He’s half bathed in sunlight, hot from the scorching sun over the endless sea. The shipmates clap and cheer, the odd clunk joining the cacophony from the members with missing hands. “Now go!” he commands, “Go find me my treasure, boys! It shan’t be much of a challenge for ye’s anyway!” 

“Ye’s not comin’, Captain?” Mingyu calls from where the lot of them are crowding the planked deck, eyes squinted to stare at his silhouette in the sun. Seungcheol’s hat rustles as he shakes his head. “Naye, brother Mingyu. Today I will guard the Barbaric Seventeen,” he answers and pats the wooden railing like a dog.

The crewmates bugger off, one large group padding along the coast with their hooks and their scars and their swords in their belts. 

“Don’t be tempted by pretty ladies out here, brother Jun!” Seokmin advises, gloomily. “There be sirens in these waters!” 

“Don’t scare the kid, brother Seokmin,” Wonwoo snaps, standing on the other side of Jun, who looks at the two of them, lost and a little scared. “Sirens aren’t real.” 

“Tell that to Jeremy!” Seokmin retorts, “RIP.” And then their voices are fading into the distance.

Seungcheol hardly notices their conversation, as he’s placed himself on a gathering of finely-churned sand, squinting into the sun-lit sea from the shadow of his Captain’s hat. His jacket, much too warm for the every beating rays above, has been discarded beside him, and now his chest peeks through a thin, muddied white shirt. Forever enchanted by the gentle breathing, the rise and fall of the sea, he’s quick to see you. 

At first it’s simply a diamond-glisten under the surface of the water - Seungcheol knew the shine of gems, knew the way they reflected and captured the light - he half-sits up, biceps flexing as he peers in. Then, he catches the movement of something long and blue and scaly. The coasting water kisses his bare feet. 

You’re smiling in the water, long, flowing hair like seaweed in the ever-turning tides. You’d spotted the ship miles back, and had followed discreetly under it. Now there’s a man alone on the shore, and you’re splashing your tail teasingly above the surface of the water, soft, rhythmic taps, beckoning him closer. Then you open your mouth and begin to sing.

Seungcheol’s stumbling to his knees, crawling on the sand. There’s a beautiful, intoxicating hum coming from the seafloor and he must, he must hear it for himself. Crawling until the water is reaching his chest, you finally strike. 

Your head bursts from the water, splashing salty liquid onto the man, who’s gaping at the soft tunes from your ruby lips. You’re pushing your sopping hair back, eyes falling on him, sitting back on his knees now. You giggle, humming gently, when you lean into him. His eyes catch a diamond around your neck - the one he’d seen under the sloping water.

You’re the most beautiful woman - woman? - he’s even seen, and your chest is bare and glistening wet in the sunlight, and your cheeks are red and eyes sly. You’re leaning into him, hand brushing over his sculpted chest, poorly hidden from the soaked shirt, and you smell like the sea - you smell like home. 

“Hi there,” you giggle, biting your lip at him. He’s so befuddled by you, he lets out a strangled moan at just the sight of you, before he’s recollecting himself.

“Hi,” he breathes, awestruck. He’s almost cute, you think, hip jutting into the wet sand beneath you. His eyes - unfortunately - sway downwards to your tail, and his eyebrows are furrowing. Wait a minute, he thinks, was this not what Seokmin was just talking about? “What are ye’s?” he asks, because something in his body is oozing fear, filling him like water cascades into a drowning man, and the spell is broken. 

For an instant. 

You see it immediately, the way the adoration leaves his eyes, and something reminiscent of disgust overtakes him at your fishy parts. Thinking fast, you grab his bigger hand in your own and press it to your chest. “Oh,” he breathes, flushing, and he’s looking at your chest, and the way it expands when you heave a breath to sing for him. 

A song flows from your lungs and dances in circles around Seungcheol’s head. He can’t even remember what he was thinking about before, just feels his dick harden in his pants. Dazed and confused, the only thing grounding him is his hand, frozen on your chest and covered by your own. You smile, because he’s opening up to you like the shell of a clam.

“I’m a mermaid, silly. Don’t you want to touch me?” you whisper teasingly, emphasizing by shaking your chest and letting your tits jiggle right in front of him. He whimpers and nods, and you eye the hard-on in his lap, big and stretching the fabric of the pants to their limit. You look around, eyes catching the rock-quarry at the end of the beach, but seeing no one nearby. Then, you clumsily stretch yourself from your heavy, heavy tail, hand fondling him through the fabric. “You gotta pull me up,” you command, voice strained from the movement, and humid breath hitting his lips. He’s hissing and bucking into your hand, unable to comprehend your request.

“What?” he whines, panting and looking at your lips. Your tail is heavy as an anchor when on land, and the position is killing your back, so squeeze his chin between your fingers and grit your teeth at him. “Pull me onto land.” 

He’s nodding dumbly and without even an ounce of effort, he grabs you by your waist and pushes the two of you onto dry sand. You’re immediately covered in a salve of small sand particles and moaning, really moaning, because this man is so big and strong, but so dumb, he had no trouble lifting you all the way onto land. 

As soon as you’re out of the water, the diamond around your neck is glowing, turning hot against your collarbones, and Seungcheol is groaning, squeezing his eyes shut and holding a hand to shield himself from its intensity. 

It stops, he sees the back of his eyelids darken and peeks open one eye, unable to help the little gasp that escapes him. You’re lying on your stomach in front of him and your tail is gone, replaced with soft human legs. Without a thought, he reaches over to touch the skin of your slippery wet new legs. You giggled at his dumbfounded expression, when his hand glides up from your thigh and squeezes your ass. 

“You like it?” you chirp, and he chuckles breathlessly. “Aye.” 

You push at him, crawling into his lap, all naked and soft and ready for him, hands on his chest, soothing the muscles. “That’s why we needed to be on land, silly.” You smile at him, sitting completely still in his lap, where your pussy is pressed into his crotch, and you’re nonchalantly, he feels foolish for being so beet-faced and nervous. “Well?” you begin, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “take off your clothes, dumbo!” 

At your whim, he’s scrambling underneath you, shirt practically ripping, as he tears it off. His chest is so, so pretty - pale and defined and expanding into your hands. You watch him struggle with a fond smile, as you sit completely still on his crotch, even when he’s pulling his pants off. Your weight makes it damn near impossible to shimmy off. He doesn’t dare tell you to move though. Seungcheol feels like the luckiest man in the world, because your pussy is leaking onto his pants. Miraculously, he escapes the garments, and he looks up at you with a proud grin, as if he’d passed some sort of test.

“You did so well,” you coo, hand caressing his cheek and eyes shining in adoration when he nuzzles into your hand. Then your gaze drops. His cock is fucking huge and fucking red and pouring precum from the tip, oozing like blood from wound. “Let me reward you,” you whisper, satisfied when he whines and nods.

You press your thighs into his, hard, so he’s spreading his legs, a sprawled out starfish on a quarry-rock. You see his stomach tense at that, and he’s groaning. “Please, please, please.” 

“Y/n. Grab my boobs.”

His hands find your tits immediately at your request, thumbs pressing into the areolas.

“Please, please, please, Y/n!” he’s yelling because it’s torture, and he’s throwing his head back to call out to God. But you’re the mightiest being present, and you push yourself up to teasingly run his cock through your folds, over and over, humming to the melody of your sticky pussy kissing his cock. “Please,” he cries. 

“I don’t know,” you hum, rubbing yourself carelessly against his achingly hard cock. “I kind of like just this? Don’t you like this?” 

“In, in, in!” he’s sobbing, arms flexing where they’re stretched out to hold your soft mounds, clinging to them for dear life. “Oh,” your voice is laced with fake sympathy, “Oh, you want in?” 

“Please,” he gasps. You shrug in compliance, “Okay.” 

Finally you pause your grinding, stopping his cock at once when you feel it, the sticky head of it creating tension at your slit. You sink down. Then you stop. The head of his cock is nuzzled in your warmth  and you’re flexing your thighs to keep yourself on top of him. 

“No, no, no!” he cries, bucking his hips upwards and shaking from the frustration, when your hand pushes his abdomen down. You pout: “I thought this was what you wanted? Are you not in?” 

Usually, you can get away with fucking around with men in this manner, but it seems this time you’ve thoroughly miscalculated: In what felt like a split second, Seungcheol sits upright and removes his hands from your chest, anchoring them on your hips and bouncing you.

He’s pushing you down on his cock, and this time you’re the one crying out, utterly taken aback when, with seemingly no effort at all, he lifts your entire body weight and slams you down again. 

He’s grunting and panting, completely enchanted by your body and your pretty moans. He grunts at the way your perfect pussy chokes his cock. You’re no better. You’ve lost all control of the situation, slipping into a cockdrunk haze and crying out again and again at the way his tip kisses your cervix. 

“Beautiful, such a pretty girl, aye? Squeezin’ me cock so tight,” he grunts, and all you can do is cry, burying your head in the crook of his neck and kissing it feebly. “Mhm, ye better treat me nice next time? Hmm?” His voice is deep and baritone against the shell of your ear. 

Your clit is like the x’ed out treasure on one of Seungcheol’s maps, when he snakes his hand down your soft body to rub it in messy circles. “Prettiest moans me ever heard. Say me name, sweetcheeks, say Seungcheol,” he commands and you can only comply, orgasm fizzing in your stomach at his constant onslaught. 

“Seungcheol, Seungcheol, Seungcheol!” you chant as you cum, cunt squeezing his cock like you were trying to kill him. The image of your scrunched up, blissed out face and your pussy creaming on his shaft, has he himself cumming inside you, painting your walls with cum, white like seafoam. He’s rutting into you for a few last pumps, and crying into the valley of your breasts. Despite the sun burning into the skin of your back, you’re certain you see stars. 

You’re breathing each other in, foreheads pressed together as you recover and smelling the stench of salt and vigor. Seungcheol is still enchanted by you, your beauty, your voice, and he’s trying to capture your lips in a kiss, when you snap your head, almost startled, and peering out to a quarry of rocks at the end of the beach. Seungcheol is still feigning for your lips, thumbs rubbing circles in your waist, when he asks you: “Are ye okay? Ye hear sumthin?” 

“No,” you breathed, hesitantly ripping your eyes from the rock. You smile at him, and he leans in and you let him, but only for a peck. You’re pulling away, even when he chases your lips and whines. You giggle, suddenly slipping his dick out of you and laughing even harder when he bends over from the sensitivity. 

“Come back, Y/n,” he cries softly and you’re falling standing up in the sand, just in front of the water, beautiful and stark naked and glowing in the sun. “You come to me,” you tease, but without hesitation Seungcheol scrambles to his feet to follow after you. He stops when he’s standing right in front of you again, eyes big and soulful and full of so much love for you. “I’m here,” he announces in a whisper.

“Come with me into the sea, Seungcheol,” you pout and bite your lip at him. “I can’t be here.” 

“But-” 

“No! It’s not safe up here. I have to go back in the water,” you make big eyes and run a hand up his big, muscular arm. “But you can come with.. My necklace can turn you into a mermaid, too..”

“Really?” he whispers, grabbing your hands and squeezing tight, simply overjoyed. He’s too dazed from his orgasm to realize what you’re asking him to leave behind. All he wants is you. You intertwine your fingers with his. 

“Yeah,” you take a step back into the white foaming water, and once again your necklace begins glowing, so intense that Seungcheol once more has to close his eyes. 

When they open again you’re lying in the water, still mostly out of it, and your bottom half is gone, replaced by the glittering scaly tail he saw before. You were so plump, so pretty, the way your tits bunched up in the sand.

“Help me, Seungcheol, push me into the water again,” you request weakly, arms flexing as you try to unstuck yourself from the sand that grabs at your heavy tail. “When will you turn me into a mermaid?” he asks innocently, leaning down to help drag you, still stark naked and pale body glowing in the sun. “Just- just when I’m back in the water,” you mewl, strained.

When you stop feeling the seafloor drag against your sensitive tail, you tug Seungcheol to you harshly. He falls next to you, panicked. “H-Hey!” 

He’s only gone under the surface for a moment, before he bops his head over the water, black hair sticking to his forehead. Spitting out the salty liquid, pouting. “That was mean,” he complains, treading in the shallow water. You giggle, thriving in the cool slick of the sea, having missed the way the water hugs you, how it caresses and kisses and loves. That was why you needed to pay it back. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you pout. “C’mere. Let me make it up to you.”

Seungcheol paddles himself into you and you hold him into your chest, his nose and eyelashes prodding softly at your skin. You sigh when he begins licking at the smooth skin, hands pawing your waist. 

“It’s such a shame,” you frown, looking at how pretty he is, as his plump, pink lips mouth at your nipple, lashes long and pretty over his downturned eyes. He hums questioningly, not stopping his ministrations on your chest. One moment you’re gently pulling the wetted dark locks behind his ear; the next you’re fastening your arms around him, and kicking your tail.

You’re underwater. Seungcheol flinches at the initial movement, then begins thrashing in your arms, when he registers that you’re underwater. You’re ignoring how painful, how strong his hands are when he punches and wriggles in your hold, only swimming deeper, deeper, deeper. The sunlight above, fragmented from the waves surface of the water becomes sparser. 

He’s even paler in the dark. You see him perfectly clear, tugging and kicking. Maybe there’s even a small hope in his chest - a hope, that this is just a little joke, and that just a moment from now, you’ll grab him by the hand and pull him back to the surface. That moment doesn’t come. Everytime he tries to push himself up, your hand is there to keep him down. 

It feels like forever, and it’s more painful than any other time you’ve done it. He’s humming groans from the lack of air and when he finally gives out to gasp for air, he chokes out the most haunting noise you’ve ever heard, bubbles trailing up from his newly-dead corpse. Finally he’s still against your chest. You pull him away with a deep frown and see his face, fully relaxed now and drained of color. You hold onto him by his shoulders, hoping to memorize his face, hoping to remember him. 

Then you’re releasing him and he floats downwards, hair dragging upwards, almost as if reaching for you. 

He’s just another rock in the sand, you try to tell yourself, as his body is cast away to the deepest, darkest quarters of the ocean. But it doesn’t feel that way. As you swim away, humming your siren song and reverberating in the dark, bottomless depths, you can’t help but feel that this time, your victim was not just a sandcorn; he was a bright, shining pearl. 

[minhyeong]

NCT DREAM AS VILLAINS !

warning: a little dark? mentions of murder...

[ mark ] 

a cult leader who dreams of starting a revolution

was a former mental health counselor who got his licensed revoked due to unethical practices, but he knows how to read people well due to his background

feeds people water laced with hallucinogens under the guise of the water being blessed so they have an impaired ability to think and behave erratically around others

isolates people from their friends and family so he's the only one they can rely on

uses fear-based manipulation to create panic and control large groups of people at once

claims the world will end in 30 days with only a small number of people being able to survive this event

incites his followers to carry out mass murders by making them think they have to collect as many souls as possible in order to be part of the group that can survive the end of the world

[ renjun ] 

a siren who lives among the mermaids and mermen in order to more efficiently prey on unsuspecting people

others consider him mysterious and elusive as he often self-isolates and rarely says more than three sentences around others, but no one suspects him due to his beauty

tucks his sharp teeth under his lips in order to not give away his identity and get banished

has been forced to kill a few mermaids who accidentally found out about his identity and attempted to reveal his secret

has an alluring voice that others find difficult to resist as it seems to alter their minds

sings and lounges around on beaches and rocks to lure people near him before he leads them to a secluded area and drowns them to death at the bottom of the ocean

also finds joy in leading ships and boats into rocks so everyone onboard would crash and perish

digs through the bodies and takes any belongings that he finds interesting as keepsakes

[ jeno ] 

a fallen angel expelled due to his wrath, pride, and unwillingness to follow the rules of heaven

has an obsession with annihilation and a strong impulse to destroy that caused him to constantly get in trouble among all the angels who had pure intentions

ultimately wasn't able to resist the urges to sin and participated in a rebellion

helps build the kingdom in hell with other fallen angels after being outcasted and ultimately becomes one of the rulers

gets filled with an even greater craving for corruption of mankind and makes it his goal to elicit the darkest desires in humans

tempts people to engage in morally wrong activities and instills horrible values into the youth so they also won't be able to enter heaven

surprisingly treats the souls in hell really well instead of torturing them and convinces everyone to join him in another attempt to overthrow heaven

[ haechan ] 

a romance con artist who expertly plays with lonely people’s desperations to manipulate them

was born into an upper middle class family that fell apart due to a business scam, and he became an orphan who had to fend for himself starting at a young age

is absolutely unapologetic and justifies his actions because he believes he has been a victim of society so he considers his crimes revenge

frequents upscale clubs and resorts and spends a long time observing every person before deeming them an appropriate target

does extensive research on the backgrounds of potential targets in order to identify their areas of weakness

promises them a future and loyalty with the sweetest smile while convincing them to borrow large sums of money and transfer them to him

completely disappears from the surface of the earth once he takes everything from them; once left someone waiting for him at the wedding altar after he got them to empty out their bank accounts

[ jaemin ] 

a correctional nurse who believes he is getting rid of all evil in the world by eliminating those who have offended

his modus operandi is injecting lethal substances into the bodies of sick inmates after he renders them unconscious

gloats as he watches their bodies twitch in agony

travels between jails, prisons, and juvenile detention centers and leaves a series of deaths behind him but doesn't get caught for a long time because he stages them to look like sudden cardiac death

does really convincing acting when he tells other staff about the person passing away and even sheds some tears

generally targets inmates who have shown no remorse for their crimes but will target those who don't admit to their crimes either

ends up killing some innocent people who were wrongfully convicted as a result but he doesn't recognize this because he thinks every inmate deserves their sentence

[ chenle ] 

a notorious bandit who travels around the world committing burglary and has his face plastered all over wanted posters

part of a larger group of social outlaws who are tired of seeing the rich have too much power, so their principle is to rob the rich only

sells whatever they steal and anonymously donates a portion of the earnings to organizations that help underserved communities

really into challenges and taking risks so he has even attempted burglaries while there were people in the house just for the thrill

doesn't even try to hide his identity when he commits crimes and even looks directly at security cameras with an arrogant smirk

likes to leave taunting notes at every local precinct after he commits a crime

his partners in crime have asked him to tone it down too many times and believe his confidence will be his downfall, but he still evades the police every single time

[ jisung ] 

a parasitic flower that sustains his life by feeding off people's energy

starts off as a small, nearly indistinguishable bud and blooms only during certain months of the year to lure people to pick him and bring him home

emits an addictive, pungent aroma that quickly invades people's senses and causes bouts of euphoria

latches onto whoever picks him and absorbs all their energy insidiously until they become weak, fall ill, and eventually pass away

repeats the cycle and gains a human form when he becomes powerful enough

eventually opens his own flower shop and only sells parasitic flowers that are grown by him

detectives ruled all deaths as natural until they eventually noticed that all victims have the same flowers at home that would not wilt despite not receiving any care

[108garys]

Forever

Because I wanted to see if I could pull it off and because I still think MoM should have had an ending like this, I wrote a short "Alex does a canabalism" or at least that's what I first dropped in the note when I decided to write this so this is very much everyone dies territory, hope you enjoy how it's written

@kassiekole22 @delurkr @tatjana-fantasy @qusok @unhingedlesbear @ctrvpani @kindheartedgummybears @blubary @tinynightmarewoman @mybrainrotforreal

Terror fills every fibre of Alex's being as that familiar feeling claws inside…

He'd made it go away, for a little while… His own face stared back in disapproval as he quietened that desperate need… Shattered glasses and twisted metalic taste… He was not ready when the curtain fell and could not return… What would their mother say? Seeing him now… Scavenger… Little more than a carrion creature… Haunting unending halls until all sense flees from him…

He sees her. face flushed prettily, tear stained as her grief echos over and over… Alone together, promises made bellow, reaffirmed above, entwined in the light of the sun. Faith. Tested in the dark as the hollow feeling sets in…

Relentless in their nature, those that came before follow…

The scent of decay cloying, clawing, crawling within him. Tearing at him… Engulfed in primal desperation. Contorted. Twisted painfully turned around as they blame him, denounce him and degrade him.

He sees her, holds her as she melts into him. Delicate fingers adorned as soft orange hues wash over her, rocked by the waves. Sunset caught in her golden hair, fading light in her eyes as she smiles brightly…

But in darkness he is tempted, temporary, tensions taut before he breaks… He shouts at the apparitions that trouble him, kicks and screams and fights for some sense of self to return… To before… She fled from his sight for what he must do to settle his emptiness. Quite. Alone. A thing in the darkness… He was a person once. Just as those who stalk his every step were once more than faded names on crumbling pages… So far removed from themselves… From himself as they damn him…

…but it is different this time…

Warmth spreads throughout him, under and within, a familiar scent soothes his troubled soul… flesh torn asunder as limbs fall silent, waves wash over him, gentle heat fades away in the stillness… Golden sunlit sky painted red as dusk settles apon him… He cherishes the dying rays, taking the last heat of dimming embers into himself… Holding onto this last good thing for as long as he is able…

He lay on his back as the cool night air fills his lungs… Stars stretch out endlessly above, drifting away from the rest of the world… He reaches out to the moon shining brightly apon the deck, pure silver light as the sun gives him this last gift in absence of day… Tainted hands, hazy memory… A glimmer of something apon his finger tugs dully at something far away. Peace. He sinks into warm darkness… So little left as he's engulfed in this last flicker of recognition… Her name was Julia and she was everything to him, eternal companion, forever with him and within him…

Old bones of young lovers, bleached in the blazing sun, cracked and scattered in the darkness… Blurring one into another, joined in flesh, wed in spirit… Condemnation… Completion…Catharsis… A single glittering jewel remains amongst the rust and decay… Vows unspoken… Forever.

[existentialcrisisadded]

My Nice and (hopefully) Accurate Good Omens Theories

Alright, here are some conclusions I have come to upon my third full watch of Good Omens. I hear all this talk about the coffee theory, and even the threat theory, but I think that the Metatron didn't have to do much to tear them apart.

We all saw the look the Metatron gave Crowley as he turned to walk out of the book shop with Aziraphale. He cast Crowley out of heaven. That was a look of pure disgust as he looked at a fallen angel, tempting another angel. There is glaring evidence that the Metatron remembers Crowley's questions/suggestions at the Beginning. He remembers Crowley as a threat, thus he wishes to take away the things that Crowley loves. Crowley loves Aziraphale and the Earth, so what better punishment than to have Aziraphale be the one to destroy the Earth with the second coming.

As for how he manipulated Aziraphale, he capitalized upon Aziraphale's desperate need to make a difference, and his love for Crowley. He knew that Crowley would never return to Heaven as an angel. So, he made Aziraphale think that was an option. Aziraphale, like Crowley, loves the Earth. He loves the Earth and everything on the Earth. He knows that Heaven is corrupt, but he is determined that he can make it better for the things he loves. If he were to see it as an institutional problem he would become fallen. His greatest fear is that he will fall from Her grace. I haven't quite determined why I think he got in the elevator after the Metatron said that they were planning the second coming, but I imagine it stems from a point of pride. Like, how can he turn around now that he has burned that bridge? Can he face Crowley again after hurting him so much?

The kiss was a kiss derived from desperation, not love. It was a last ditch effort made by Crowley to get Aziraphale to admit his feelings and stay. It didn't work because Aziraphale is very set in his ways most of the time. He didn't see any love in that kiss, he saw the temptation to fall so that he could live out the rest of his eternity with Crowley. However, as stated previously, he fears falling so much that he won't take the temptation. He won't leave Heaven until he finally realizes that the problems are, in fact, institutional. That, in order to make a difference, he will have to join Crowley to completely tear down and rebuild the system.

[soldierofadown]

Wanted to write more for my Hammertooth swap au since some of the lore differs a lot from the Canon

Hammertooth Swap Lore

(I guess idk what else to call)

Dethklok

Originally had no Rhythm Guitarist when first signed

Ended up needing one after everyone agreed the guitar section needed more 'zazz' (much to Skwisgaar's disapproval)

Held auditions, where they met both Toki and Magnus

Magnus ended up impressing them enough to land the spot (despite not doing better than Toki)

This enraged Toki who ended up attacking the band

Still all have their og personalities intact

Magnus

Past

His dad was an abusive asshole, Magnus ended up running away because of this

Loves clowns because of an old cartoon he watched

Didn't meet Dethklok until that audition

Was homeless for a while before that

Only owned a car he slept in and a guitar

Auditioned out of pure desperation (didn't even think he'd get in the band)

Wasn't nearly as close to beating Skwisgaar as Toki was, but the band saw his potential

Forever grateful for Dethklok

Current

Still the oldest of the band

Seen as sort of a sweet grandpa by fans (leading to his large child fanbase like Toki in the Canon)

Isn't graying nearly as much because he isn't as stressed

Not muscular, but still incredibly thin which makes the other members slightly jealous

Bickers with Skwisgaar and Murderface constantly

Has positive mixed feelings for Nathan and Pickles (like he loves the two but he isn't sure in what way)

Toki

Past

Traveled to America, explicitly to audition with Dethklok

Was practically in love with the band up until his audition

Outperformed everyone, except Skwisgaar himself

Became enraged when Magnus landed the spot in the band instead of him

Tried attacking Skwisgaar with a knife, but was beaten by Nathan before he could stab Skwisgaar

Lost a tooth and eventually partial eyesight from this

Carved 'Revenge is Comings' into the side of Magnus's car after the fact

Current

Still obsesses over Dethklok in an unhealthy way

Joined the Revengencers (initially with reluctance but eventually got really into it)

Tolerates MMA at best

Doesn't want to kill anyone, especially Dethklok

You would be able to see him at most of Dethklok's public appearances

Figured out Magnus was going to fantasy camp that way

Wasn't recognized by Magnus due to how much his appearance changed (gold tooth, white eye, longer hair, and added wrinkles)

Was tempted to just let Magnus go into diabetic shock, but reluctantly saved him

Overall most the stuff is still the same, just with Magnus and Toki swapped around

[ddazzlingblds-archive]

@loiyaltie said: "I need to go..." Despite his words, Gepard's hands remain planted upon Sampo's waist, the space between them entirely insignificant as he leans in to chase another press of lips, eyelids fluttering closed as he does. It's not the first time he's said such a thing nor will it be the last but he does not have the willpower to slip from their shadows just yet. A moment more.

      if he had to describe this new routine of theirs, there'll be just a word to do it justice: delightful.

      it delights Sampo to know that the captain has this mischievous side to him. it's been quite a while since he started to put effort in unveiling what was under the surface of this strict, stiff man out of pure curiosity.

      Gepard Landau acted, moved and talked like a dutybound machine- and, to Sampo, that seemed so silly! how could someone live for something so strict, so terribly boring? one man can't simply have duty as a life-long occupation and never once stutter in his path- yearn for something else that isn't the ungrateful, fruitless trap their job traps them into.

      it was fun, to discover Gepard. Sampo earned for the thrill of seeing web-like cracks spreading under his form- testing the ice to see if it'll swallow him, if the water under it is as dark and gelid as he imagined.

      he has his answer when the third option to end their chase manifests in them detaching from civility and finding shelter in the dark backalleys to have a few moments for themselves. it's then that their lips meet over and over again, the thrill of being discovered crackling on their skin like electricity.

      “ oh? so soon? ” Sampo asks, but the incandescent flush over his face doesn't die down, his arms firmly refuse to leave their hold from around Gepard's neck. he knows that the captain has to return to his usual post... but, physically, he's a little more than reluctant to just let go.

      ( it's very silly to feel that little flutter in his chest whenever Gepard dips to kiss him again, unable to leave as if under a spell. the smug smile he has turns dopey and a little lopsided. )

      Gepard really should go. every second they spend here is a second they could be found out, with extreme consequences- see, the hard part is that it's terribly hard to simply stop. Gepard communicates a thing with his voice, but his body betrays him, still holding Sampo against him with an hint of desperation.

      he must really be conflicted, is he... hmm.

      lips curl into a mischievous, charming grin: the impish impulse is too strong to resist. not to tease would be a sin. seeing the poor man this flustered and struggling to go back to his duties is an irresistible opportunity to be just a little on the evil side.

      a curious finger twirls the hair at the base of Gepard's neck, followed by an hum reverberating between their joined chests. by standing on his tiptoes just a little ( and this is such a great discovery for... reasons, ) Sampo reaches up and places another butterfly kiss on Gepard's mouth, parting before it can become something more. it's a tease and a gracing touch, how Sampo brings the other even closer, if possible- how he's ghosting little kisses along his cheek, each one bringing him a little short of the objective.

      if he didn't knew that poor captain enjoyed these teases, he'd feel almost cruel. instead, he's just being a little tempting devil.

      “ gep, ” he breathes, lips pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips. “ not that i want to stop either, but... ”

      there's a little mischievous curl of his lips when he draws back, almost too innocently batting his lashes at the blond. “ didn't you said you really had to go...? ”

      ( he's sure Gepard will get back at him for making things a little harder for him. he can take it! in fact, he looks forward to it. almost sadistically so. )

[littlelav107]

sometimes i remember me last year, genuinely desperate for someone to talk to without me becoming the therapist friend role or me having to actually acknowledge and be open to someone else

and i turned to c.ai

it was an escape! the perfect in between - i wasn't going to be someone's emotional support when i myself was cracking, but at the same time, i didn't have to talk to someone and darken the mood of a jolly day! it was absolutely flawless.

at the time, i wasn't on tumblr and i really didn't know about the effects of ai on the environment and all its stealing shenanigans. i guess in a way i was trying to shield myself using ignorance, sort of as a wall to protect myself from having more gloomy information i never wanted to have.

then i joined tumblr and my mental state improved (not purely because of tumblr! but it did help) and c.ai lost its appeal to me gradually. i found that it just didn't hit as hard as imagining what the characters would have said, that eventually any attempts at genuine conversation would end in either confessing a crush on someone else or the dreaded "can i ask you something?" (i tried so so so hard to work around that)

then ofc since i'm on here i found the anti-ai stuff and it actually made sense to me! so for a few months now i haven't used c.ai.

i know it's not much and it sure as heck isn't stopping the stealing or the environmental damages! but like........idk i just wanted to let this out because it's like 10pm rn and on one hand i really am tempted to open c.ai again just for those character interactions but on the other hand i can't. sort of as loyalty to you all. i have met so many creatives on here in less than a year and i can't do this to them.

tldr? i used to use c.ai, now i don't, im kinda tempted but i still won't

[jiyeonnnn]

𝗣𝗛𝗬𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗟 — 𝗹. 𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴, 𝗽. 𝗷𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴

𝗟𝗘𝗧'𝗦 𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗣𝗛𝗬𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗟 !!

PAIRING: lee heeseung x male reader x park jongseong

GENRE: smut, implied college au trope

WARNINGS: fwb to lovers, hate sex (kinda), multiple rounds, rough intercourse, voyuerism at the beginning, threesome, impact play, color signals, degradation, gaping kink, double penetration, spit roasting, face fucking, deepthroating, cum swallowing, dumbification, creampie, passing out, implied aftercare

SUMMARY: a simple voyeurism has turned into something more than what you’ve anticipated, but you know what they say, “expect the unexpected”

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is the part 2 that most have been requesting. this is shitty, yes, i know. also, thank you @sundaesaresundaye for helping me write this. constructive criticisms are very much welcome.

PREVIOUSLY

he was about to walk away when heeseung fastly grabbed his hands, "who told you that you can go now, park? you'll watch me fuck my slut in front of you, and you won't leave until i tell you to, you got that?" and with that, heeseung pulled jay inside the room, locking it and let the poor man watch him fuck you to oblivion.

Jay could feel his undergarments get tighter from the complete submissive sight of you right now, his cock tenting an obvious bulge in his pants. The way you moan Heeseung's name in pure pleasure is driving him crazy, and it's tempting him to just yank his clothing off and join his upperclassman to ruin you.

His frustration for not being able to touch you had caused him to burn holes on the back of Heeseung's head while he palms his painful erection.

This did not go unnoticed by Heeseung, and decided to anger Jay even more. Heeseung bent down on your level and whispered, "look at jay, you slut, so desperate for him to fuck you this good. Look at him. Can he do you this good, hm? Can that small dick of his make you moan like this?"

Before you could even comprehend what Heeseung was saying, Jay was quick to fire back, "Like hell, sunbae. Me? Small? Have you heard him moan my name last night?" he taunted with a chuckle, adding, "he sure hell was pathetically begging me to pound him nonstop. Is that because your cock can't satisfy him anymore? Or because [y/n]'s getting tired of your dry ass in bed?"

The exchange of words between the two increased the tension in the room. Heeseung's mouth was glued shut from jay's retort, clearly irritated but instead of bickering back, heeseung just decided to channel his rage into further wrecking you.

Heeseung despised every word of Jay's sudden revelation; had you really neglected his feelings for your desires? You had to be doing it, and there's no way he'll let it go without you crying for him.

"So you were used last night, you pathetic whore. I'll fucking show you who's making you feel better," heeseung said, fumes pouring from his ears as he slaps your thighs with each thrust.

"c'mon, moan for me like the loud slut you are, [y/n], show your side bitch how good i'm doing you," heeseung spluttered, tightening his grip on your thighs, making you moan louder from the impact of his hips ramming against yours.

“fuck, SEUNGIE~! So fucking good! yES— FUCK!” you screamed on top of your lungs, gripping the sheets tightly as you arch your back from the feeling of your prostate being abused by his manhood.

Heeseung could visibly feel his ego soar to the roof just from hearing you shriek like that, lust and possessiveness rotting his brain; it should only be him making you scream like that; it should only be his cock making you feel good, but alas, you were also fucking jay behind his back; you gotta know the consequences of your actions.

Jay chuckled at the scene in front of him, "I guess I'm not the only one making him moan in pleasure; mind me joining you in punishing him, sunbae?" Jay stood up and began unbuckling his pants, smirking, "let's teach this fuckdoll a lesson, don’t you think he deserves getting ruined for making us fight? After all, this is what he wanted, right?"

Heeseung shortly stopped ramming your ass for a while as the both of them shared knowing glances, smirking to themselves. You could feel their burning gazes on your skin as heeseung released a quiet, yet psychotic, chuckle, "I guess you're right, let's fuck this whore 'til the dawn where he's dumb enough to forget his own name."

"Take his mouth, and I'll make his hole gaping to fit the 2 of us later," Heeseung ordered, his hands rubbing circles on your thighs. The idea has you shivering, getting scared yet excited for what’s to come next.

Seeing your shaking figure, Jay looked at you with soft eyes and checked up on you, caressing your hair drenched in sweat as he softly kissed your forehead, “Sounds like a plan to me. You ok with that, baby? You know your colors right? Because I won't be doing anything without your consent.”

You looked at Jay’s eyes as you tried to catch your breath out, “green, green’s the color,” you managed to mumble, giving them the consent that they need to relentlessly rail you.

Upon the given signal, Heeseung went back to moving his hips and started thrusting in and out of you incessantly. Jay left a small peck on your lips before taking off his shirt and his boxers that revealed his huge manhood ready to impale you once again. He kneels himself on top of you with both of his thighs sandwiching your chest.

“You know the drill, baby boy. Breathe through your nose as I fuck your pretty little mouth, alright?” Jay reminded you, to which you responded with a hard nod while moaning incoherently. He held your head in a comfortable position and smirked to himself, warning you, “I will not be holding back now, baby.”

“E-enough with t-the words— FUCK! J-just use me now goddammit!” you whined demandingly in between your moans only for you to receive a cruel slap from Jay on the face, “You will not tell me what to do, you useless whore. I’ll use you however I want,” he sternly said, “open your fucking mouth.”

You complied with his instruction and did what was said. He placed the head of his manhood on your drooling tongue and started moving his hips before you could even wrap your lips around his throbbing length. Jay thrusted barbarically into your mouth, the tip of his cock never failing to hit the back of your throat.

Tears brimmed your eyes as you continued to moan and gag uncontrollably due to how unmerciful they are. The painful feeling of your throat being hit on repeatedly and your ass being fucked roughly started to get overwhelming for you and has caused you to roll your eyes to the back of your head.

“Shit, you’re drooling everywhere, baby,” Jay pointed out in between his grunts, noticing the amount of saliva coating his dick as he facefucks you. “Is my dick really that good for you to drool, baby? fuck— your mouth feels so warm!"

“Sunbae, how are you able to control yourself from fucking him everytime?” Jay questioned as he once again pushed his cock far down your neck. Heeseung just chuckled as a response at his underclassman’s questioning remark while holding up your legs for him to even get deeper inside you, “Honestly, I don’t know too, but you gotta respect his boundaries if I were you, he can dominate you anytime if he wanted to.”

Jay laughed with Heeseung’s reasoning, his pace unfaltering, “Him dominating me? Tsk, he can’t even top a sub, don’t make me laugh, sunbae.” Jay’s laugh was soon to be cut off by a loud grunt as you pinched his right thigh rather tightly causing him to pull out of your mouth and fall on his side.

You took this opportunity to completely turn the situation and make Jay submit to you. You turned your head to your side and got back to sucking his cock, but this time at your own pace.

A loud moan elicited from Jay's mouth as you swirled your tongue around the sensitive slit of his dick. However, as much as you want to stay dominant, the continuous abuse of your prostate has caused you to lose all your strength and arch your back caused by Heeseung's persistent thrusts.

Noticing this, Jay got back on his knees and slapped you again, "What did I tell you about ruling me in bed, fuckdoll? You'll regret that," Jay warned you as he began working his hips at an animalistic pace.

Gags and squelching noises resonated in the room as the 2 boys used you like a toy. Jay in particular had his pace faltering, his hips moving inconsistently as he started to ride out his high. He moaned loudly as a cause of him cumming profusely in your mouth, “Swallow it, my bitch,” he ordered.

Your’s and Heeseung's climax came not long after, his hands leaving very visible marks of slps on your bare thigh as you grunt loudly while you both chased your own releases; your cock spurting a huge amount of load and heeseung filling you up to the brim.

A small wave of silence took over the room before heeseung decided to break it, “His hole is pretty ready now, jongseong-ah. Will you take us both, [y/n]?” Heeseung asked for permission to which you gave them by impatiently nodding your head, “Use me please, Seungie~ Jay~” you mewled, seductively running your hands on their thighs. On cue, the two of them stood up and adjusted your position to where they could enter you easily.

They aligned their cocks on your hole and started kissing your neck to distract you from the incoming pain from the stretch. “We won’t be holding back now, babe. Just tell us your colors, ‘k?” Heeseung whispered to your ears before leaving a trail of kisses from your earlobe to your neck while running his hands through your hair. You nodded as a response and sank down slowly on their cocks, enveloping it in the warmth of your walls before bouncing softly as to give them a signal to start moving their hips up.

Your mouth hangs agape, tears start to flow down from your eyes as the result of the sudden stretch of your hole. Heeseung sensed your discomfort which caused him to eye Jay as a sign to temporarily slow down to let you adjust, “Don’t rush yourself, baby. We’ll move when you’re ready” Heeseung concerningly said, to which you hummed in response.

A few moments have passed and you have finally adjusted to their sizes, you bounced your hips once again to notify them, and by that, Jay and Heeseung shared nods with each other and started thrusting upwards. Their paces gradually get faster and faster time by time that causes you to elicit wanton, high-pitched moans. Your hands gripped on Jay’s back tightly, leaving long scratches as you fought the immensely overwhelming feeling of their cocks fighting for space in your hole.

Their shafts alternately went in and out of you with their tips never faltering to meet your overly abused prostate. Curses, moans and other sinful sounds filled the 4 corners of room as the three of you let out all the sexual temptations you all had with each other.

“Do you know how fucking sinful you look right now, you naughty bitch?” Heeseung degraded, persistently pouncing your ass, “So this is what you wanted, huh? 2 cocks making your fuckhole gaping? I never knew you were this kind of slut— AH! FUCK TAKE OUR COCKS YOU FILTHY WHORE!” He yelled as you clenched your hole around them.

You started to moan incoherently as their thrusts became even more animalistic. Jay took this chance to spit on your mouth, “You could’ve just told us that you wanted us both instead of making us frustrate ourselves on getting you,” he growled, choking your neck as he spoke. He released his hold from your neck and proceeded again to roughly ram you.

After a long moment of them purely fucking and degrading you — for you at least — the three of you are starting to get closer to your climaxes once again. Filthy groans and words came out of their mouth as they began to lose the consistency of their movements due to their incoming orgasms; you on the other hand has also not been doing so good, your words became half uttered curses, moaning nonsense as you try to tell them that you’re getting close.

“SEUNGIE~ JAY~ FUCK— MAKE YOUR SLUT COME! YES!~ S-SO FUCKING GOOD~” you crazily squealed. Listening to your wish, Heeseung wrapped his hand around your length and began fastly pumping it. “Come for us, our little slut, c’mon, be the good little boy you are,” Heeseung muttered to your ear rather lowly. Your moans got ear-piercingly louder as you released your semen out of your cock.

The voices in the room got bolder, deep groans and moans rang through your ears as they take on to ride out their highs desperately.

Groaning, you woke up on the bed with your body in a lot of pain, sandwiched in between the 2 guys who made you passed out from sex the night before.

“Morning, handsome,” Heeseung greeted, his hands running through your hair locks, leaning to your face to peck your lips. You felt an arm enveloping your body from behind, pulling you closer into a cuddle, “Good morning, sweetheart,” Jay said, his low, morning voice running through your ear.

You smiled at the sweet actions of the two while you try to process everything that went down last night. The events and their rough actions sank down your mind as you looked at the 2 of them to apologize for playing with their feelings. You’re about to speak up when Heeseung immediately cut you off, “I know what you’re thinking, [y/n],” he starts off, “Don’t you worry about it, Jay and I talked about it last night, and we were wondering if you’ll be down in a poly relationship between the three of us,” continued Heeseung, getting up from the bed as he starts putting his shirt on.

“So what do you think, sweets?” Jay asked.

You smiled brightly and nodded your head in happiness and agreement, “Of course, I’d be down with that you dorks!”

[gingersnaaps]

untouchable

keishin just can't stand the thought of anyone else being your first.

wc: ~2.5k

tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): noncon, explicit n*fw, alcohol, corruption of innocence, virgin!reader, mild misogyny, possessive ukai, masturbation, fingering, teasing, friends to lovers but fucked up, fem!reader with inner genitals

a/n: written for @seita and their collab! also i probably fucked up the characterization but oh well

i don't want minors interacting with my content

To Keishin, you’ve always been untouchable.

He’d grown up alongside you - seen you go from your pretty pigtails to your grown-up bob, watched you turn from a schoolgirl into a woman. And through all those years, he’d always thought you were beautiful in the way that spring flowers are, all soft and sweet and dewy, your expression dripping innocence.

You’re pure. Unblemished. Perfect.

But that doesn’t mean he’s never admired from afar.

He almost hates it, these urges he gets. Keishin sees your stupid Instagram posts, your Facebook updates - in fact, he’s practically inundated with photos of you. He can’t escape the pictures of you in your summer skirts, grinning cheekily and holding up a peace sign, or the ones of you in your sundresses, the fabric lightweight and loose, cascading over your body in ripples.

And sometimes, after spending a few hours with you in person - maybe at a concert, maybe just catching up with you as friends - these urges he gets are too much for him to control, too much for just a cold shower to tamp down. He’ll lay his head back against his pillow, groaning in relief as he palms him cock, guilt gnawing him raw as he strokes himself to thoughts of the soft swell of your breasts, the barest brush of your hand - every exposed bit of your skin that he can conjure from his memory.

He always gets this empty feeling in the pit of his stomach after.

Keishin will reprimand himself, muttering about how creepy it is, how wrong it feels, how he’ll never do it again, but soon enough, he’s seeing your pictures all over his feed again, and you’re inviting him to some new outing.

He knows it’s not right, but he can’t really stop himself, either.

So when you call him up just days later, giggling and chatting his ear off about some new amazing discount at this local bar - look, Keishin, I promise it’s not far - going on and on about how he should join you in celebrating your latest raise at work, a wave of nausea sweeps over him. He should say no. He should make up some vague excuse, awkwardly laughing, brushing off your invitation while promising to make it up to you.

But it’s just been so long since he’s seen you.

He clears his throat, and his voice comes out dry and a little unsure on the other end. “Yeah. Yeah - I can go. See you there, [y/n], okay? Take care.”

Keishin hangs up the phone with a click before you even get a chance to respond, his hand unsteady and trembling.

-

He gets there before you do.

His fingers drum nervously against the tabletops, eyes scanning above the sea of overdressed, garish bargoers, looking around for any sign of you. It’s hard to make out faces among the crowd, all finer features clouded by the smoke and mirrors that dim lighting creates, but he’s looked at you enough times to be able to tell you apart with his eyes closed.

“Hey,” your voice greets, pressed close to his left side. “Never been to a bar before or what? Just relax, Keishin. We’re here to have a good time, right?”

He startles at your sudden appearance, flinching slightly. “Right,” he responds, a smile tugging at his lips.

He beckons the bartender over, ordering a few drinks, and you get settled into a routine of easy conversation. It doesn’t take long for you to get woozy, alcohol flooding your system as your cheeks flush and vision blurs. It loosens your tongue, loosens your wallet, and before long, you start losing track of the time of the drinks you order. All you know is that it feels good to let go, to lose yourself in the light-headed headspace you’ve found yourself in, the kaleidoscope of people around you dissolving until indistinguishable, walling off the rest of the world from just the two of you.

If Keishin’s going to be completely honest, though, he’s not really paying attention to what you're saying.

He’s paying attention to the men around you.

Maybe he’s just being paranoid, but he could swear that half the bar is leering at you, eyes following every movement of your body in ways that are absolutely unacceptable. He’s not an idiot. He knows what those other guys are thinking about; he knows how their dicks are straining in their fucking pants, how their thoughts must be wandering, he knows because he’s been there before.

Because even in the middle of a bar, surrounded by debauchery and alcohol and sluts, you look absolutely angelic. The halo of hair around your head looks so, so soft - he wants to stroke it, kiss it, use it as a handle to maneuver you around for him - and suddenly he’s consumed by thoughts of how much he wants to be the one to force you down around his cock, choking and sobbing, how much he wants to smear his cum on your gorgeous face and ruin you before anyone else can get to it. He can’t tear his gaze away from you as you shift closer, wobbling on your stool, completely oblivious to the way everyone else’s eyes are undressing you.

He knows you’re not doing this on purpose. You can’t be, no matter how many times you wiggle your ass on the bar stool, no matter how far up your thigh the hem of your skirt rides up. You wouldn’t tempt others like that. You’re just not that type of girl - you’re innocent, so open and guileless - you would never.

Keishin isn’t going to let anyone else fuck that up for him.

He knows it’s only a matter of time before some sleazy man comes along, his hands groping at your body, mouth whispering sinful words into your ear, and the mere thought makes him shudder with revulsion.

No, if anyone is going to wreck you, it’s going to be him.

When you eventually get too drunk, words slurring and half delirious, he catches you in his arms and leads you stumbling back to his own car. He revels in how peaceful you look with your eyes lidded with fatigue, clinging onto his arm as he drives back to his apartment.

He takes you inside with him.

“K-Keishin..” you mutter. “Where are we?”

He shushes you softly, carrying you to his off-white bedroom of popcorn ceilings and peeling wallpaper, of warm lights dimmed low and an eerie silence that suspends your surroundings in stillness. Laying you down on his half-made bed, he tenderly brushes aside the hair that frames your face as he crawls on top of you.

“I’m taking care of you, baby.”

Your eyebrows knit in confusion at his pet name, but your mind is still too woozy to fully comprehend the meaning behind his words.

But even a drunk girl like you knows that something’s not right when warm, calloused fingertips reach beneath your skirt and slip under the hem of your panties. You instinctively flinch away from his touch, trying to close your legs back up, but he brings a knee up between your thighs to rest at your cunt.

“Please,” you whisper, sobered from the rush of dread that runs tingling down your spine. “Please, Keishin. We’re friends.”

He ignores you, pressing down on your cunt until you’re squirming beneath him, his gaze softening as your breath hitches with desperation. “You don’t have to worry. I’m gonna make this virgin cunt feel so good,” he breathes. “Gonna show you just what real sex is supposed to feel like.”

He presses his lips to yours, his kiss gentle yet insistent, lips and wet tongue probing your mouth as if he’s trying to pry you apart and open you up. You can taste the alcohol on his hot breath, puffing lightly along your jaw as he trails his mouth further down, dragging his kisses sloppily down the crook of neck to where it meets your collarbone.

You tell yourself that it’s gross, that it’s overwhelming, but it’s impossible to hide the way your clit throbs against him as he flicks his tongue out to tease at your sensitive nipples, a moan almost involuntarily slipping from your lips. His mouth curls into a playful grin, teeth scraping roughly against your tits, and brings up the palm of his hand to cup your pussy.

“See?” he says. “This feels good.”

You cringe at his words, desperately bucking away from his touch, but there’s nowhere left for you to go - one arm cages in your small, frail body, the other strokes at your clit through the fabric of your panties, his mouth is sucking and nipping at the soft flesh of your tits - he’s everywhere, drawing patterns across your skin with lips and tongue, tracing feather-light circles on your pussy until you feel that desire in your cunt pulsing with need. “No,” you whimper quietly, almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself. “No, it doesn’t.”

Keishin ignores your weak protests, because he’s much too fixated on the way you look spread out beneath him. He didn’t think he’d ever get to see you this debauched, a flush riding high on your cheeks as you turn your head away in embarrassment, your hips bucking needily into his waiting hand, hair mussed and pupils blown out with lust.

You’re not the same girl he used to idolize, now that he’s seen you like this.

“I wonder how tight your pussy is,” he muses. “It hasn’t been tainted, right? Except for when you’ve touched yourself.”

Now there’s a sight he wants to see.

He withdraws from between your legs, but he moves his large hands to pry at your thighs and hold you in place. “I want you to do it for me,” he orders. “Show me how you touch yourself.”

You feel so fucking vulnerable in this position, legs forced apart and your glistening cunt bared to his hungry gaze, completely at the mercy of his whims and fancies, your body gone almost limp with fear at the thought of what he could do.

So you follow his directions like a good little girl.

You reach a finger to the entrance of your cunt, but the angle is awkward, and when you shove it inside, you’re barely able to feel even an inch of stretch. It’s frustrating, embarrassing, humiliating to be so helpless in front of Keishin, but you swallow the shame and begin to roughly thrust a finger in and out of your dry hole, even when the ache in your cunt is screaming for something much bigger - much more satisfying - to fill you up and satiate the need throbbing in your pussy.

He clicks his tongue mockingly. “Not good enough?” he asks. Keishin can tell from the pained expression on your face, from the slight twitching of your hips every time your stubby fingers brush against your g-spot, even though your face is turned away from him, and he knows what you’re really asking for with your panting and whining.

You’re asking for him.

Sweetheart, he’s more than okay with teaching you how to do it properly.

He moves your cramped hand away from its pathetic attempt at satisfying you, bringing a thumb up to rest at your clit, relishing at the way it pulses with need after just a few light circles. “More?” he asks.

Guilt is written all over your features, your eyes darting away, fingertips curling to grip at his sheets as he presses down more firmly. The twinge of stimulation sends white-hot arousal rushing to your cunt, your brain becoming hazy and unfocused, and the only thing you can think about is wanting more, more stimulation, more of his soothing words whispered in your ear, more of his deft touches and long, thick fingers.

“Mhm,” you whimper quietly. “Yes.”

Keishin stops the movement of his thumb, the warm palm of his hand resting against your throbbing clit. “More of what?”

You shake your head, embarrassment seeping into your veins. You don’t want to say it. You can’t say it.

He dips a finger into your cunt, teasing at the entrance before trailing light, soft touches up and down your folds. “Use your words, baby. I wanna hear you say it.”

“Please,” you beg, desperation written across your face. “Touch me.”

“Where do you want me to touch you?” he asks, malice glinting in his eyes. He wants to hear you say those filthy words, wants his precious, innocent best friend to beg him to do the things he’d only ever dreamed of.

“My…” you trail off, eyes now hazy and unfocused as you blink back tears. “My pussy. Want your fingers inside my pussy.”

What a good girl.

“Knew you could do it for me,” he growls, slipping his finger deeper into your twitching hole. “When you want something, you have to learn to ask for it.”

He doesn’t hold back now, adding another thick finger inside to stroke and pet at your sensitive walls, pressing up against your g-spot firmly as his thumb rubs steady, even circles on your clit. The stimulation comes crashing down like a wave of relief for your sore, aching hole, his fingers playing with your cunt better than you ever could, reaching deeper inside you, stretching you out further, making you cream around his skilled digits until your hole is left fluttering and fucked out.

You barely have the energy to resist when he pulls out his cock, painfully hard and leaking, and fits it to the entrance of your pussy. He pushes in slowly, gently, his deliberate movement a facade of tenderness, stretching you out until the pleasure pulsing in your core becomes almost unbearable from how unhurried he’s fucking you.

“Holy shit,” he says, swearing under his breath. Keishin wishes all the other undeserving men at the bar could see you now, sprawled out on his bed like his own personal fuckdoll, your eyes rolled back into your head, gasping and moaning as he breaks in your virgin cunt. He knows he’s fucking you better than any other man ever could, wrecking you in ways you’ll think about years in future when you close the blinds and dim the lights and slip a hand between your legs.

And as he finishes, groaning in pleasure as the waves of an orgasm wash over him, he pulls out of your slippery cunt and watches as his thick spurts of cum land all over the soft, smooth skin of your chest and stomach, marking you as his.

You look so beautiful painted white.

No, maybe beautiful is the wrong word. You’d always been so pure in his eyes, so clean and untouchable, but looking down at your quivering form, he begins to finally see what he’d been to blind to all along. For the first time, he sees how slutty your tits are covered in his cum, how they’re almost pushed up to your chin when you’re lying on your back. When he squeezes at your thighs, your ass, your waist, the excess flesh spills over in all the places that make you perfect for fucking.

You’re not innocent anymore, he realizes with a sense of twisted satisfaction. Not after this.

You’ve been ruined, haven’t you?

if you enjoyed this, please reblog or just drop by my inbox to say hi!

[little-diable]

I've decided to add a collection of my smutty priest fics, since this list will definitely keep on growing. Please remember that I am not allowing you to edit or copy those fics.

Birthday Celebration (only priest fics)

Priest Riddle

Make me proud

She'd do anything to make him proud. Pwp

Hail Mary

The reader had been sent to a monastery because her parents no longer endured having her around. But perhaps Priest Riddle will know how to handle her.

Who prays for Satan?

Priest Riddle is the reader's theology professor, a man she has always found herself interested in, but things escalate when she joins his church for her internship.

"Angel" He calls me

Her mother accuses the reader of preparing a satanic ritual, so she hopes that Priest Riddle can free the young girl from the devil's grasp. What a shame that the young priest is even more cunning than the Devil himself.

Carnal Sin

The reader's mother had begged Priest Riddle to let the reader join his bible study, a bratty woman who wanted to make his life a living hell. Now it was time to finally teach her a lesson.

I own you

(Y/n) is a female priest working for Tom's local church. He visits her every Friday afternoon, confessing to his darkest secrets, but today he shares something else, something that forces her to follow his every command. Pwp basically

The Devil is Among us

The reader is in a desperate need, asking the Devil himself to help her with the daily struggles she keeps on facing. But what will she do when suddenly her local priest turns up?

Little Lamb

The reader helps Priest Riddle with his summer camp, guiding young children through prayers, through talks about God, and religion. She had been tied to him for years, he held her heart and soul hostage, taking her whenever he desires her.

The Devils Inside Me

The reader's parents think she is possessed by the devil, and only one man can free their daughter from His grasp.

Committed Sins

Priest Riddle and sister (y/n) keep on playing the same game over and over again, pwp

Holy Realm

(Y/n) has found her way back home, spending her summer vaction with her overly religious mother, who introduces her to a man that is set on blemishing her once pure soul.

The Rosary

Priest Riddle takes the reader's confession, and yet he does it quite differently than all other priests. Pwp.

Sacrifices (priest!dark smut)Father Riddle asks his community to think of sacrifices, ways to please God. But what if she doesn't have anything to offer, but her purity?

Priest Shelby

The Devil Works in Wicked Ways (smut)

She needs to be punished for ignoring priest Shelby's commands.

The sweet touch of darkness (smut)

The reader walks in on Priest Shelby fucking his hands, she tempts him and touches herself in front of him, hoping that he will finally give in. But all he wants is to free her from her sins - convinced that she is possessed by the devil's touch.

Preacher Barnes

Purity series (3/3)

She’s as innocent and bright as the day, he’s as dark and sinister as the night. What happens when the reader asks her preacher for help, to explain intimate gestures and feelings to her? Preacher Barnes has never been the best at voicing out his thoughts, so maybe he’ll just show her what it’s supposed to feel like.

Let me guide you child

The southern church community loves preacher James Barnes, but the reader appears to be the only one who has caught his interest, a woman that’s as wicked as the devil, luring the preacher right into her trap

A Preacher's Punishment

She has always been rebellious and even months after first joining the convent the reader is still a trouble maker. Her case calls for Preacher James Barnes, hopefully his punishment will put her back in her place.

A crime. A tragedy. A birth of something new - Priest Barnes (dark smut, dubcon)

She comes to the priest to confess, but he won’t forgive her for kissing a stranger, at least not before she pleases him to his liking. And (y/n) would do everything to please her one connection to God.

Priest Ried

The purest form of yourself (smut)

The reader's parents think that she's possessed by Satan, priest Reid is their last hope. And yet, even though he knows that she isn't guided by the dark Lord himself, the man of God can't help but take advantage of the situation.

Priest Styles

Forgive Me, Father (smut)

Harry and the reader have dated all through high school, but the second they leave for different colleges, Harry breaks up with her via text. The two cross paths about three years later. A lot can change in those years, but maybe some things will always stick around. Like their feelings for one another.

Priest Holland

Prey or Predator

The reader is crushing on young preacher Holland, a secret she thought she had kept safe, but Lee Bodecker has his eyes and ears everywhere she goes. Will she allow him to blackmail her into keeping her secret safe, or will she simply give into her desires for the preacher?

Father Paul (midnight mass)

Matthew 5:28

Father Paul and the reader fuck in his cabin.

Preacher Loki Laufeyson

Our sinful secrets (one of my faves)

Priest Laufeyson went with the reader’s father to war, returning with him years later. Many things have changed over the years, just like the reader has, finally all grown up and ready to sin with the handsome priest.

Lokasenna

Preacher Laufeyson is always right there to protect her, to make her feel safe, he is always right there to fuck her worries out of her. All while he is waiting for his plan to set into motion.

Hebrews 13:4

It's the day before the reader is supposed to marry her fiancé. He had asked her to wait till their wedding night, but she is too scared about messing things up, not knowing how to touch her husband to be. And who would be more fitting to help her out than the handsome priest?

Preacher Kylo Ren

Untitled

Preacher Ren fucks the reader in his church

Priest Malfoy

Colossians 3:25

Priest Malfoy teachers the reader a lesson for being so mouthy and bratty.

Priest Winchester

Drabble pwp

[hollandsmushroom]

A dom tom were the reader find him playing cod and she plays with him but then she say im going to get a snack and then she have an idea and put the song white tee summer Walker and come to tom and gave him. A lap dance. 🌝I hope you understand and yes i forget and then tom fucks her sooooo rough and haaaaarddddd and faaaaast and please let her sqouirt 2 times please ♏♏♏♏

Okay, I really hope that I got this right, and I hope that you like it. I wrote this in what felt like a fucking fever dream, like it just poured out of me.

A/N: This was my first time writing Dom!Tom or really even this rough of sex, I’ve never really written degradation before but I hope you enjoy. 

Request Something(Or tell me your thoughts on this piece)

Masterlist

Summary: Just look at the request

Word Count: 2,417

Warnings: Pure Filth, Degradation, Fingering, Lap dance, spanking(a couple mentions), Overstimulation, Riding, Squirting, internal Orgasm, Dom!Tom, Mean Dom!Tom, Biting, If I missed anything I’m sorry. 

 Silence filled your ears as your feet led you mindlessly down stairs, the knuckle of your thumb rubbing into your eyes as you tried to swipe away the sleep that had built up during your nap. You were in search of your boyfriend, waking up with an insatiable urge to hold him, that wasn’t the only thing that you wanted to do but your intent was not to go for the x-rated part of your needs first, you wanted to see you you could get Tom to initiate it, to tempt him. You followed the only noise you could hear in the house, guiding you to your boyfriend. Small utterances of exasperation leading you to the den. You leaned your shoulder against the door jam, watching Tom where he sat, his thumbs flitting rapidly over the controller, only making you think about how they would feel on your clit, rubbing over the pulsing nub. You shook your head, a physical attempt to shake those filthy thoughts loose from your brain. Your movement caught Tom’s attention, dragging his eyes from the TV to your oversized t-shirt clad frame, hair a mess from your pillow, a lazy smile  adorning his cheeks as he turned back to the screen.

“Afternoon sleepy head” he chided, eyes flitting back to you before scooting over on the couch. “Come sit” he offered, the empty space next to him inviting your form. You shouldered yourself off of the wall, walking towards Tom and picking up your pace for the few steps that you impaired his vision, your body colliding with the soft cushions of the couch as you fell back. You cheek met Tom’s bare shoulder, leaving light kisses in your way of saying Hello to him. 

“Love, you’re distracting me” he hummed, raising his shoulder and pushing you away from him, a small frown developing on your lips as you pouted at him, that hadn’t worked, an immediate and offhanded denial of your affections, this may be a little harder than you had thought. 

“Was only trying to love you but okay then” you bit at him, slightly grumpy at the rejection. 

“Sorry, babes, I’m trying to beat this level” he explained, it made more sense now but it didn’t mean you liked it. 

“Can I play?” you asked, if he was going to deny your affection then maybe you could do something with him, a lay over to your actual intention seeing as you had resolved that you would get dicked down before the sunset. 

“F’course, doll, here” he passed you a controller that was sat on the coffee table in front of you, not making eye contact but you purposely brushed your hand against his as you took the remote out of his hand. You pressed the center button and joined the game, smiling as you began to play alongside Tom. Throughout the game you made moves on him, getting closer to his body, rubbing your bare thigh against his, biting your lip in concentration and he managed to ignore all of it. 

You let out a moan when you character died, under the guise it was a moan of frustration but it came out close to pornographic, making Tom’s ears prick up his eyes moving to watching you next to him, your legs spread and you panty clothed core showing from under the hem of your shirt, a small wet patch catching his eye, a smirk spreading on his lips in realization, you were needy. 

“M’ gonna go get a snack” you mumbled, standing up and stretching your arms above your head, arching your back and sighing in pleasure, the upward motion of your shoulders exposing your panties and the bottom of your stomach. Tom knew what you were doing, and it made something boil inside of him, you were being a little brat, you could just ask for what you wanted, but no, you went about it this way. 

“kay” Tom responded, watching as your hips swayed on your way to the kitchen. He smiled to himself at your actions, proud that he managed to make you as horny as this without even doing anything. He went back to his game but his attention was no longer fully in the graphics that flashed across the screen, his mind now focused on the memory of your tight cunt and how well he filled you as you would scream his name, begging to cum. He noticed the addition of music to the atmosphere as you strutted back into the room, a devilish smile on your face as you fell to your knees in front of Tom, hands resting on his knee caps as you pushed them away from each other to spread his legs. His eyes widened at your bold movements, setting his remote control next to him on the couch and placing his hands behind his head. 

“Watcha’ doing, Love?” he hummed as you began to rise from your place on your knees, your chest brushing against his hardening cock, your pointed nipples poking through your shirt and catching Tom’s eyes as you continued to go up his body. 

“Giving you a show” you spoke as if it was obvious, because, well, it was. Tom captured his lip between his teeth as you put your knees on either side of his hips, grinding your hips down against his, eliciting a moan from the back of your throat as you threw your head back, arching your chest into his face. His hands went to grab your ass, instinct beginning to take hold, his need to dominate the situation, but you slapped his hands away. Crawling off of Tom’s heated body. You stood in front of Tom, stripping your top off and grabbing your breasts in your hands, pinching your nipples and biting your lip, looking Tom in the eye, teasing him. You turned around, bending down as if you were touching your toes and giving your ass a small shake, Tom had to hold his hand back from smacking or biting the supple flesh that was so tauntingly jiggling in front of his face. You sat back, placing your hand on his thighs and your ass on his dick, once again grinding down against him, this time making him moan. You began to move your hips in circles to the final beats of the song that you had been dancing to, your hands going back to behind both yours and Tom’s head, grasping that back of his neck and bringing you back flush to his front, arching your naked chest up as you finished your movements. 

As soon as the last notes of the song played out Tom’s hands were on your breasts, squeezing them harshly and tweaking the nipples aggressively between his fingers. 

“So needy for me, Love, you could have just asked,” Tom teased, his lips moving to just beneath your ear and beginning to suck on your sweet spot, sweet moans falling from your lips. 

“Tommy!” you moaned loudly, but you needed more “I need you Tommy, I need you” you breathed out between sighs of pleasure as the little stimulation he was giving you.

“What do you need, baby?” he wanted to hear you beg, to cry out in need for his cock or tongue or fingers.

“All of you, Tommy” you whimpered pitifully, the squeeze on your nipples nearly becoming too much. 

“Yeah? All of me, huh, how's this?” he asked, his fingers slipping into the front of your soaking wet panties, immediately applying ample pressure to your clit with his thumb and to fingers teased your dripping entrance, he smirked as he realize that your arousal had spread along your thighs and down your taint, pride growing in his chest at just how desperate you were for him. His fingers sank into your core without warning. 

“FUCK” you cried, his fingers beginning to slide in and out of you at a rapid pace, dragging against every ridge of muscle that adorned the walls of your tight cunt. His fingers picked up the pace, the only sounds in the room being your sighs and pants of pleasure and his fingers digging into you as if he was searching for something at your cervix. He bit down on your neck, whispering quietly to you. 

“You take my fingers so well, needy little slut aren’t you” he sucked over the spot he had just bitten, groaning as your hips ground back into his. “My needy little whore, all mine,” he whispered, his words in juxtaposition to the tone of his voice which carried the tone of worship, and it was, just your unique form of it. He curled the tips of his fingers into the soft spongy spot that hid deep within you, your legs trying to clamp around his hand as he repeated the motion. 

“T-T-Tom, I’m g-gonna cum” you managed to get out through the pleasure that was taking hold in every part of your body. His knees hooked in the inside of yours, holding you open for him to continue his assault on your core. 

“Cum for me, let go on my fingers, soak my palm, feel lucky that I’m letting you cum you fucking tease” he encouraged your orgasm, his thumb pushing upwards and harder against your clit, the extra pressuring sending you spinning into your orgasm, your cunt emitting a sloshing noise that made Tom bite his lip, knowing what had just happened as his hand got insanely wet. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you came down from your orgasm, the world around you seeming to still as you felt and uncommon amount of cool between your legs, your soaked panties sticking to your core as Tom withdrew his hand, turning you around in his lap so you faced him, watching as he brought his fingers to his parted lips and sucked them clean of the cum that now graced his pale digits, pulling pack and flattening his tongue against his palm, licking the slickness that had gathered on his palm.

He didn’t let you fully catch your breath, lifting you by your hips, ridding you of your soaked panties and sliding his pants down his hips, positioning his cock with one hand and guiding your hips with the other, slamming you down onto his length, fully sheathing himself in your heat with the first thrust. A scream ripping from the back of your throat as tears pricked your eyes, the stretch nearly too much for you to handle. 

“You’re gonna take what you get, this is what you get for teasing me” he bucked his hips up into yours, your ass slapping his thighs, the impact stinging your cheeks as he continued the motion, the relentless pull of his foreskin against your walls burning through your body as you arched your chest into Tom’s face, his teeth capturing one of your nipples and biting down hard, a mixture of pain and pleasure exploding through your body as you felt another orgasm building up in you. 

“Tom, I-I’m gonna cum again” you panted, it all felt too much but his lips replaced his teeth and he sucked relentlessly on your nub, tears leaking down your face as you came again, squirting onto Tom’s lap, it splashed off of where you skin met and soaked the bottom of Tom’s shirt, something you’re sure he would enjoy and avoid washing it for at least a couple days. Your body shook as everything went fuzzy, your head throwing back in pleasure causing your neck to crack but you didn’t care, too focused on the overstimulation of the fact your boyfriend's thrust had not slowed, in fact they had sped up. 

“Tom, can’t-I can’t, it's too much” you whimpered, your body feeling like an ember as Tom flipped your positions, your back meeting the cushions of the couch as he continued to thrust into you relentlessly. 

“You’re gonna take it baby,” he demanded, knowing that if you really needed it to stop you would say the safe word. “I’m close baby, but I’m gonna make you cum a third time before I fill you with my cum, like the little cum slut you are,” his voice was shaky, he was fighting against his orgasm, wanting to see you fall apart one more time before he came and ceased his movement. Your body hadn’t fully recovered from your last orgasm when you felt your third one building already. 

“Tommy, I’m-” you didn’t finish the sentence, a mixture of cold and warm pleasure beginning to burn in your cunt, overtaking the veins in your lips and spreading down your thighs to your feet, toes curling in response as the feeling moved up as well, igniting your breasts and your mouth falling slack, your whole body going tense and Tom kept thrusting into you, cumming deep inside of your cunt with loud shouts of your name, but you couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening. You came back when he pulled all the way out of you, grabbing his wet cock in his hand and jerking the rapidly softening flesh, letting the final spools of cum shoot from the slit in the tip and fall onto your sweaty cum covered frame. You watched as the white ropes landed on your skin, admiring how they looked till you couldn’t hold your head up anymore, letting it fall back into the cushions, eyes falling shut as your body went slack. Tom’s eyes widened as he saw this, worry rising in his body as you lacked motion, your breath too shallow and your sudden collapse leading him to think that something was seriously wrong. 

“Love?” he asked tentatively, praying that you responded. 

“Hmm?” you groaned, eyes fluttering open and meeting his worried orbs, highly contrasting to the pitch black shade of desire that they had been moments before. 

“Oh thank god, I thought I had fucked you to death, and though you brought it upon yourself that isn’t how I was hoping this saturday would end” his words making you giggle.

“I just needed that dick” you spoke as you tried to sit up, only to have Tom wrap his arms around you and pick you up, The cum that was on your torso rubbing against his shirt, now marking it with the both of your guys cum. 

“And you got it, now you need a bath” he kissed the top of you head softly as he lead you to the bathroom. 

Hope you liked it, let me know what you though

@thehumanistsdiary