#the fumbled a few things pretty hard

[iinryer]

ok taking it out of tags bc i keep seeing “WHY would they cut that!!” — honestly? it’s more than likely just a contracted screen time thing. because i guarantee no one looked at that scene and was like “hmmm. not important enough” and tossed it on the chopping block. it’s a good scene! clearly they think it’s a good scene if they released it anyway!

sorry to bring a production perspective to the storytelling zone, but it was only a ten episode run. they haven’t done one that short since the pilot season, and there are so many more characters now, FULLY established characters. plus, at the end of the day: it’s a job. certain actors are contracted for certain types and amounts of screen time and, no matter what they film, that has to be fulfilled in the final cut 🤷

i also desperately wish they could have kept it in the show, it was such a great moment! but i promise it is sooooo not that serious. and tbh im glad to be getting the bonus scenes that they obviously wished they’d been able to include!

[mostly-imagines]

Moonstruck

jason todd x reader

aka sober thoughts and all that

warnings: intoxication

Jason has a thing about drinking around you. He’d kind of skirted around it for a while when you were first dating, but after a while you’d noticed he never really has more than a drink or two regardless of how much you had. The only times you ever see him drink more is when he’s downing whiskey as a pain mitigater when he needs stitches. You’d initially assumed he just wasn’t a big drinker, but eventually you’d come to realize it was more of a matter of not wanting to lose his inhibitions around you. 

You know he’s still working on trusting himself, even sober, because he’s terrified of accidentally hurting you. But you have a hard time imagining him losing control like that in any state and you’re nearly certain he’s just being hard on himself.

You’ve been falling in and out of less than peaceful sleep for the past few hours, having trouble easing yourself while your boyfriend is still out. You at least attempted to get to bed earlier tonight because for once he isn’t out fighting crime and risking injury, though you haven’t found much more luck than usual. 

You lie on your back, half ready to give up and turn on a movie while you wait.

You’re momentarily startled to hear Dick bellow out your name, no regard for the fact that it’s nearing three in the morning and you have neighbors. He’s not much of a shouter so you’re instantly on alert, worried that he or Jason are hurt.

You fumble out of bed and rush to the living room, surprised to find your fire escape empty. You turn, proceeding towards the front door, opening it cautiously. 

“Dick? What—” You don’t need to finish your question because the second you take one good look at the two of them, the state of them is immediately clear. Dick, who’s barely standing upright on his own, supports your boyfriend's weight via Jason’s arm slinged around his shoulder.

“Hey!” Dick grins at you, far more lively than he has any business being this late at night. “Sorry, couldn’t remember which apartment was yours.”

You nod pensively, “Well the perspective’s different than when you’re coming in through the window.”

He continues on past that without thought, “I’ve come to deliver,” he says, gesturing up to Jason with a bit of a strain. You’re pretty sure there were supposed to be a couple more words at the end of that sentence but you understand well enough anyway.

You nod, eyebrows raised and try to hide a smile. “Thanks, Dick.” He shifts your boyfriend off of his shoulder to lean him up against the door frame, where Jason places a majority of his weight.

You eye him warily, not confident in his steadiness. He seems to hold well enough against the heavy door though, his eyes drifting around the tiled floor. Your attention shifts to Dick, who’s clearly satisfied with a job well done and ready to go.

You tilt your head, seeing him turn away. “You good?”

“I’m great!” He calls out with a thumbs up. You watch as he staggers away, nearly missing the exit.

You look back over at Jason, who’s already staring at you with a soft gaze. “You’re pretty,” he fawns, irises blown out and flickering all over your face.

“Oh you’re drunk drunk.” You grin, watching him stumble forward a bit.

He shakes his head, looking a bit dizzy after, “Shoulda seen Tim.”

You pause mid laugh, “…Who drove you here?”

He falters at that, gaze falling to the floor. “Uh…” He winces, “Damian…”

You nod slowly, eyes wide, “We’re gonna talk about that tomorrow.”

“He’s better than you’d think.” You’d hope so. 

Well, at least he’s spending time with his brothers.

You sigh, straightening your posture in preparation for the job to come. “Alright, come on big guy,” you pull him up from his slant against the wall, hauling him into the same position he’d been in with Dick—though you’re struggling significantly more to hold him upright. “You gotta help me out here, Jay,” you grunt, trying very hard not to fold under his weight. You swat the door shut behind you, making peace with the fact that he’ll scold you in the morning for not locking it.

He presses an uncoordinated kiss to the side of your head as you try to shuffle him along, not interested in the least in easing your labor. His self discipline isn't quite gone, but his awareness of how big he is sure seems to be. 

You wobble from the heavy weight of his arm around your shoulders, holding onto him by his waist. You manage to get him to sidestep your cat, narrowly, though Salem hisses at him all the same. Jason takes no notice. You stumble into your bedroom with only about 30% of his usual balance aiding your effort.

He collapses onto the bed the second his legs hit the frame, pulling you down with him. You lie, somewhat awkwardly, on his chest as he holds you tight—probably tighter than he would if he were sober. It feels nice though.

You lie your cheek flat on his chest, relaxing against him. “What’d you guys do? Thought you were just having an easy night.”

He takes a deep breath before answering, “Raided Dick’s liquor c—” he stops, mulling over his words. “...Bruce’s liquor that was in Dick’s cabinet.” He annunciates every word in that sentence very carefully.

You squint speculatively, “Didn’t take Dick for the stealing type.”

He grumbles, “He’s not. ‘Less it’s Bruce.”

You can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face, “Aw, you really do take after your big brother, don’t you?” 

He scoffs at that, “I don’t. I’m the one who gave him the idea.” Yeah, that sounds right.

He taps on your cheek lightly and you pick your head up to find him looking at you with puppy dog eyes.

“What’s that look for?”

“Can I kiss you?” his eyes drop down to your lips, “I really wanna kiss you.” He’s nearly whispering and you feel your heart skip several beats at the feeling of his eyes on you like this.

You press a light kiss to his lips and he practically purrs.  

You pull back, admiring the serene expression on his face. “You taste like whiskey.”

“I like whiskey,” he says honestly.

You smile, nodding. “I know. Don’t know why, but..”

He leans in for another kiss but you parry, only letting his lips meet your cheek. He frowns grimly, attempting to chase your lips. 

“Lemme kiss you,” the pout on his face is adorable and while you hesitate to deny him, you retreat, resting your chin on his chest.

You smile wistfully, tracing his cheekbone, “You’re drunk, baby.”

“‘M not that drunk,” he tells you, though everything about him says otherwise.

Your hand falls flat on his shoulder. “Your eleven year old brother drove you here.”

He shrugs, “He can drive the bat…batcar? Bat…”

“Batmobile,” you finish.

“The batmobile.” he nods, as if he was seconds away from remembering. You suspect he wasn’t. 

“Bruce lets him drive it?” you question, wholly disbelieving.

“No.”

Enough said.

“You’re gonna be hungover as hell in the morning,” you mumble, taking in his uninhibited demeanor.

He nods that off, “‘S okay. You’ll be here, right?”

You tilt your head, observing him chalantly. “Where else would I go?”

His arms snake tighter around you at that, giving you a little squeeze before relenting. 

“I wanna marry you,” he murmurs, brushing your hair out of your face and tucking it neatly behind your ear. 

You blink rapidly a few times, “What?” You push yourself up on his chest, sitting up on his abdomen.

“Wanna marry you.” He repeats, eyes lidded as he breathes easy under you. “You’re m’favorite person…want you t’be my wife.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. “..You want me to be your wife?”

His lips are slightly parted and his pupils are wide as he stares up at you, taking in your features carefully. “‘Course I do.” He brings his fingers up to your cheek, touching you softly with all the wonderment of a little kid. “You’re so pretty.”

You’re quick to return, “So are you.” Especially right now.

He shuts his eyes momentarily, shaking his head morosely, “You gotta stop bein’ so nice t’me,” he lets his hand fall to rest on your thigh. “Don’t deserve it.”

“Shut up,” you lour, “You deserve it more than anybody.”

“No. Not more than you,” his hands knead at your thighs like it’s an instinct. “You deserve everything.” He closes his eyes, tilting his chin up as his head sinks further back into the pillow. “Think I’d do anything you wanted.”

“Jay—”

He continues on, “Want you t’be happy. Wanna make you happy.”

Your face falls into an expression of dazed awe, “You do make me happy.”

He dwindles at that, “No, really happy. Take care of you. Build you a house, give you babies. Wha’ever you want.”

He paws at your thighs, trying to get you to come closer again to him. You lay back down on top of him and his hand instantly buries itself in your hair, stroking softly. “You’re just…you’re so perfect…” He turns his head to mumble against your forehead, “Feel like I dreamed you, sometimes.”

You breathe deeply against the crook of his neck, eyes feeling glassy. “I love you.” It’s all you can get out, and it’s not enough, but it’s all of it. 

“I love you,” he says like he’s trying to turn it into gospel. “So much. I love you so much, so fuckin’ much.” His words start to get lost in his weary babbling.

Your chest feels full and you can distinctly feel every beat of your heart against it. Or maybe it’s Jason’s heart. But what’s the difference?

You press a tender kiss to the nape of his neck. “You’re really sweet when you’re drunk, you know that?”

He hums lowly, head lulling against yours.

You still for a second, finding his breathing has slowed and his hand has seized its movement in your hair. His soft breaths fill the air as you press a kiss to his collarbone before settling in completely. “You’re gonna love when I tell you about this in the morning,” you whisper, letting your eyes shut too.

💗 likes are the poor mans reblog 💗

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dead Man's Diner pt3

Dick knew that Tim was sending him looks every few seconds.

How could he not? This places food names were honestly the best, if this was some kinda murder cult Dick would be so disappointed.

Glancing up over the menu at Danny, Dick smiled at the teen who had been whipping down the same cup for five minutes like some wild west bartender while trying very hard not to stare at the two vigilantes.

"Okay, I think I have made up my mind, Red you got what you wanted?" Finally meeting Tim's eyes, Dick mentally winced, Tim's eyes were doing that twitchy thing that happened sometimes...

"Yes. I am." Dick understand slightly but like...the puns weren't that bad

Out of the corner of his eye Dick saw Danny pop up, nearly slamming the mug he had been holding as he fumbled with a note pad, coming closer to the two, he did a pretty decent customer service smile as he waited.

Since Tim was having a problem with words, Dick went first.

"So, I'll have some Boo-berry Poltergeist pancakes, with two sunny side up eggs and a side of bacon?" Dick watched as Danny paused for a moment, let out a little laugh and then started to write before looking to Tim.

"I will have...Ugh, the Wraith waffles with the hunting hashbrowns on the side...please." Dick had seen Tim look less pained over being stabbed than say the wonderful puns.

"Alrighty, anything to drink before I head back and get started on your order?" Holding up a coffee jug in one hand and an orange juice jug in the other, Danny gave a slight smirk.

Perhaps it was the coffee but Tim looked a bit less pained after that.

---

As he slapped down a few pieces of bacon, Danny totally didn't use his ghost powers to bring the bowl of pancake batter over closer as he scooped a ladle full on a freshly buttered side of the flat top, making sure it set first, Danny heard a beep from the frier, heading over he paused to see French fries in there as well.

Shaking his head, he dunked them all into the oil, and moved to set the timer only to see it already clicking down, "Oh um...thank you very much." Patting the deep frier, Danny moved back to the flat top as it let out a gurgling purr.

---

Tim took all of five seconds after Danny rounded the corner into the back of the house to start whispering

"Wing, this place is mocking me. Apple apparition pie? Haunting Hashbrowns? Ethereal fucking eggs benedict." Hissing Tim shifted in his seat, "like I would get it if this place was ghost themed but it very clearly isnt! It is mocking me because I know this place doesn't exist!" Slamming a fist down on the counter, it very much thudded.

Sharing a look with Tim, Dick placed a hand on Tim's shoulder, "Buddy...I agree there is something up with this place but...I very much think it exists? Since we are kinda sitting here."

Dragging his hand down his face with a groan Tim leaned back in his seat, "I know and it is infuriating me..." Grabbing the coffee mug Tim looked at it with a not insignificant amount of distrust before taking a swig, pausing, than taking another, much slower sip, holding the mug with both hands as he lowered it down, staring at the dark liquid with a small glare.

"Red? You okay? Is that the bad coffee look ot oh shittake mushrooms that was poisoned look?" Dick said worryingly, looking to the cup of orange juice that was in front of him with suspicion.

"N-no...I" Tim's words cut off as he took a breath, "Just...tastes just like the kind Mom used to drink, came from this little town in Chile they passed through..." staring at the cup a little longer Tim shook his head, "They closed a few years back, the farmer that made it got killed by a drug cartel that wanted him to plant coca rather than coffee, it's just that this place should very much not have this."

There was a tension between the two vigilantes, Dick moving to speak before being cut off by Danny quickly coming out from the back.

"Order up! Got two pancakes for Mr. Nightwing, side of bacon and eggs and two waffles for Mr. Red Robin with some hasbrowns!" Setting each plate down in front of said vigilante, Danny gave them both a grin.

"And a side of Phantom fries for both of you on the house!"

After refilling the little bit missing out of Tim's cup, Danny seemed to be to there one second and back in the kitchen a moment later.

---

"Phantom fries?" Danny whispered to himself as he started to clean off the griddle, a grin on his face as he did, he might of left the hero business, but oh God was it funny, he wondered if other people got the same fun out of it.

Checking out on he customers through the small window to the front, Danny felt his core thrum at the sight of the two eating, it was a different kind of thrum that he got while protecting people, this one...this one gave him a full body shudder and cleared a fog in his mind he didn't even he had.

Shaking his head, Danny tried not to let the purr building in his chest out.

---

Screw the worries that Tim had, Dick was having the time of his life.

"We can't tell the others about this place Red...Little wing would try and place it in the Alley and B might try and buy it cus holy guacamole this shit is good..." Dick had dug in after Tim's wrist mounted computer had tested the food for any known poisons which said that there weren't any, but still went and saved a few samples for further analysis at the Cave.

Dick didn't know why but the pancakes tasted like those that Alfred made the first week he had been at the manor, he had gotten upset at Brcue and hid in the attic all day, but Alfred managed to lure him down with the promise of blueberries in his pancakes.

They were perfectly fluffy, butter soaked with that little edge around it that was crunchy, the berries were tart enough to battle the maple syrup and...it was just like how Dick remembered.

Shaking his head as he finished up his food, Dick threw a look over at Tim, who was hunched over his empty plate, holding his mug of coffee closer, at Dicks questioning look the teen spoke.

"We have to leave Wing something is just...off about this place, its...they taste like when my dad used to make breakfast after coming home from a dig...has to be brain waves or mind reading or..." Tim continued to ramble on, ideas flowing out of him like a water fall.

By the time that Danny went back to check on the two, they were gone.

[captainjamster]

price getting mad at a mouthy reader that bites a little too hard...

daddy kink, degradation, use of she/her and girl

John drags his thumb along your canine, pouting his bottom lip as he tuts in disingenuous pity. "My poor girl. Jus' needs somethin' to bite on, doesn't she?"

He looks between your eyes, wide and watery, as the taste of cigarette ash and something undeniably John runs across your tongue, pressing it to the floor of your mouth.

"But that thing isn't fuckin' Daddy."

The slap is sharp, recoiling against your cheek with a blinding snap of your head.

"Makin' me smack this pretty lil' mouth instead of usin' it like it's meant for. Why d'you make Daddy do these things, huh?"

He holds out his hand, his palm a splotchy red from the impact that matches the angry tinge around the few bite marks littered across his fingers.

"Y'were bein' so good, warming my fingers, 'n y'had to go and ruin it."

The grooves left by your teeth flex with the curl of his hand, whitening around the indents. "Look at that," he chides, bringing them up to your mouth. "Kiss them."

You rush to bring your lips against his skin, wetly kissing and lapping at the marks. John watches you lavish his fingers, an almost unreadable expression on his face, save the furrow of his brow. When he deems they're are suitably wet, they're tugged from your mouth, ignoring the whimpers that follow his retracting hand.

"Let's try this again."

You're everything but pushed off the couch as he drags you between his thighs, free hand fumbling with the waistline of his pants.

"Bite this time, and you're goin' in the muzzle."

[hairmetal666]

After the Russians, Steve learns three important things about himself:

Robin is the best friend he's ever had; the uncontested other half of his heart. His soulmate, the platonic love of his life, his missing puzzle piece.

He's not in love with Nancy anymore. It's really saying something that hearing those words come out of his mouth is the shock of his life. Once the drugs wear off, though, he realizes they were absolutely true. A surprising win for the Russian truth serum

Her bathroom confession...he sits with it for days. Not--not because she's a lesbian, of course not, but because. Well, Robin knows herself in a way he's never allowed himself to. And he thinks that maybe maybe he likes boys in the same way. That he always has, but never let himself acknowledge it, the way his eyes wanted to catch in the locker room, the drunken, fumbling touches between him and Tommy.

The last one...he's not sure, is the thing. How can he be sure? Like, in his mind, his imagination, he's very into it, but what if it's different in real life? And how can he even find out? He tells, Robin, of course he does, and they go to Indy, right, to a bookstore and she throws a few zines at him and he sneaks some porn (he's definitely into the porn), but that's not--it's not practical experience. And he's not ready to go to one of the bars, for sure, so he doesn't--like what's he supposed to do?

It's around this time in his bisexual spiral that the kids start hanging out with Eddie Munson, that he starts thinking about Eddie Munson. He always noticed the long, dark curls and the bright, brown eyes; the slender cut of his waist; the wry slant of his mouth as he shouted insults at the jocks; the glinting silver of the rings on his fingers--fingers that were long and callused, fingers that could grip around Steve's--

Nope, he's not going there. Even though, a little voice in his head says, he cares for Steve's kids and maybe he's not good at school but he's smart and he's also so pretty, with his pale skin and his big eyes--

No. He doesn't have a crush on Eddie Munson. Absolutely not.

And when he picks up the kids from their little dnd club and sees Munson standing against his van, he doesn't feel an electric zing in his chest, the first stirring of butterflies in his stomach; that would be crazy. They hardly know each other. It goes like this every time, and he's almost able to believe he doesn't care.

Until Eddie trips over the threshold of Family Video, stumbling on an untied bootlace and gangling his way through the front doors. The clatter catches both Robin and Steve's attention.

"Welcome to Family Video," Robin says. Steve stares.

"Uhh." Eddie's eyes flit between them, his face getting redder by the second.

Fuck, he's so cute and Steve's saying--without thinking about it, he's saying--"let me help you find a movie, man."

"Yea--sure, yeah." Eddie's hands are stuffed in the tight pocket of his jeans.

Steve takes a few steps down the closest aisle. "So, what--uh, what are you looking for?"

"Horror? Nothing in particular."

They make their way to the horror section, and it's like some insane, deeply horny demon takes over. He starts grabbing movies off the shelf, no rhyme or reason, doesn't even know what most of them are.

Eddie's staring at him with wide eyes and a raised eyebrow, and Steve just keeps grabbing tapes, is sort of doing a running commentary on titles and tag lines, and he can't stop, why can't he stop? it's like smoke is coming out of his ears. Robin is watching him from the counter with her mouth hanging open, gummy worm dangling down her chin.

"You know," Eddie grabs something from the shelf, "I think I'll just do Friday the 13th again. Can't go wrong."

And he leaves Steve standing there with half the horror section collected in his arms. He stays there while Eddie pays, face burning. It's been--well, a really long time since he's struck out so hard, and he wasn't even really trying.

As Eddie's walking out the door, his sad pile of movies shifts, then tumbles to the floor.

"You have a crush on Eddie Munson." Robin accuses.

"No!" He ducks down to collect the tapes, hoping to hide the crimson of his face.

"You do." She points an accusatory finger in his direction. "I haven't seen you this pathetic since Scoops."

"It's nothing."

"You know," she crouches down with him, "you could just, like. Try to hang out with him."

"After that? Are you kidding? I'm surprised you don't already have a new You Rule/You Suck board going."

"Oh, I do, it's up front." She jumps to her feet. "But still. You should try. And you have an easy in with the kids."

He glares at her in response, starts re-shelving all the dumb movies, and then they get busy, so the topic is dropped. He thinks about it thought. He thinks about it and he--

Instead of waiting in the car for the kids to get done at Hellfire the next time, he goes in.

[servicpop]

✶ ﹑ㅤi only have eyes for you ﹏

NOW STARRING : CEO (Vallen Carter) x jealous sub male reader

「ㅤNSFWㅤ」ㅤVallen's assistant is hot and reader can't help but feel jealous!

✙ warnings — reader is kinda insecure, office handjob (reading recieving), getting caught

notes ,, finally wrote about vallen.. not proofread!

"Your assistant, would you ever date her?"

You were currently sat on the plush couch Vallen had in his office behind his desk. Sometimes, you would invade his workplace and lounge in his office when you were bored and wanted to simply be in his presence. At your time here you've noticed a few things, one being Vallen's super hot assistant. To say she was just pretty was an understatement. She was refined, spoke smoothly and elegantly, always dressed proper, and was smart on top of all of that. Anyone would fall for someone like her, including Vallen.

Typing away on his keyboard, Vallen had his back facing you. "Why would I date her when I have you?" He replied, his voice as husky as it always was and carried little emotion in it. You huffed, turning around to face him— his back, as you took a moment to think about your next words, "Because she's really hot and— she gets to see you more often, and she's so elegant," you mumble, your words were quiet from the slight embarrassment you felt in admitting this.

You see Vallen pause in his typing, his body stilling before he let out an exhale that visibly made his shoulders fall to a more relaxed position, "Is that really what you're worried about?" His statement was firm, almost scolding. You couldn't help but keep quiet. The room was silent — besides Vallen's keyboard tapping or mouse clicking — before he decided to speak up, "Come here," he said, his tone on the boundary of stern and soft; it was always hard to tell which one he was leaning more towards. Of course you oblige, getting up from the couch and walking over to where his chair was.

"If you're that worried about my assistant, there can be a few arrangements made," He hummed, loosening his tie slightly before looking up at you. You stand there like a child getting scolded — that was usually the case when you were with Vallen, he was just so overwhelmingly mature it surprised you that he was only a few years older than you — as you fumble with your fingers, your gaze casted down to your feet. Yeah you were jealous but she undoubtedly did her job well and you didn't want to burden Vallen from a stupid little feeling.

He seemed to pick up on your discomfort, letting out a heavy huff from his chest as he leaned back in his chair, earning a small squeak in return. "Seems like you are simply too sweet to do that," He chuckled softly, patting his thigh firmly before his eyes met yours. You take the iniative to sit on his lap, settling yourself ontop of him as you wrap your arms around his waist in a small hug with your face squished in the crook of Vallen's neck. You seemed to melt in his embrace as he hooked one arm around your back and slid the chair forward so he could continue working.

The familiar sound of keyboard tapping resumed, and you rested ontop of Vallen with your eyes closed, relaxing in his company. After awhile, Vallen's hand made its way to your thigh; his large hand squeezing it firmly before sliding further up your leg. This draws your attention back down to the present as you look down, "What are you doing?" You ask. Vallen doesn't respond with words, he responds with a hand cupping your pants instead, rubbing you through your pants with his knuckles. A small groan slips out between your lips as you find yourself grinding against his palm. Wasn't your fault Vallen had such warm hands.

"I just want to prove how much I love you, and that I would never leave you for anyone," Vallen replied, his voice becoming raspy as his lips meet your earlobe. His slender fingers tug at the waistband of your pants and your boxers, slipping his hand underneath the fabric. You flinch upon feeling the warmth of his lips press against your ear and your body jerks when his hand unexpectedly grabs your now hardening cock. His hands are like magic, the way that they make you feel like you're about to implode with butterflies is honestly impressive.

Vallen pushes the fabric of your clothes down more so he could have better access to your body, letting a deep chuckle out as he stared at the way your cock practically weeps for attention in his hands. Like the good man he is, he gives you that attention. His thumb glides over your blushed tip, teasing your slit as his other hand grips your waist, keeping you stable on his lap. "You're already twitching," he comments with a small smirk on his face. Vallen deems that your poor, red tip has been tortured enough and decides to move his hand to the base of your cock, squeezing lightly before working his way back up to your tip before sliding back down to the base. He repeats this action almost painfully slow, watching your face intently to catch any facial expressions you'd make.

It was embarassing how needy you felt in this moment. Your back arched with every movement of Vallen's hand and your hips stuttered as you tried to grind into the pleasure. Your small whimpers and gasps filled the office, accompanied by the lewd, wet noises of Vallen jerking you off, "I'd deal with you in a more— proper way if I wasn't in the office right now." You could tell he was enjoying this as much as you did; it was evident by the bulge in his pants poking you. However, you knew Vallen was far too disciplined to want to partake in such activities in his workplace, but that was his personal preference, he loved seeing you crumble during work.

You couldn't help but gasp out his name, your fingers curled around his wrists, trying to stop the movement but it just felt so good. Your body was leaned back and your head tilted down, watching Vallen's slender, veins hands rub your body like he was sculpting a delicate clay figure. A hand gripped your trembling legs, holding you still as Vallen focused on pleasuring you. He knew you were close by how vocal you were getting now.

The soft click of the door opening fell deaf to your ears, your brain fogged with lust and Vallen's hands. His assistant had entered. You picked up that something was wrong from the slight twitching of Vallen's eyes as he rose his head to look at whoever interrupted his session with you. Nonetheless he didn't stop, he kept moving his wrist up and down, curving his palm more at the head before returning down to grip the base of your cock, using your precum as lube.

"Vallen, who—" you tried to speak but Vallen's fingers shoved past your lips and into your mouth unexpectedly. The foreign feeling of his fingers pressing against your tongue for some reason sent shiver down your spine and to your dick. "What better way of proving I wouldn't leave you than to start with getting rid of the root cause?" Vallen cooed in your ear, glaring at his assistant before speeding up his hand. You tried to protest but your words were blocked by Vallen's long fingers shoved deeply into your throat, bits of saliva dripped down your chin and he took the courtesy to wipe it off with his thumb. What a gentleman— obviously despite his indecency by jerking you off infront of his assistant.

It was getting to that familiar point where your hips began to chase your release and your legs felt numb. You were oblivious to the fact that Vallen's assistant was forced to watch him push you over the edge in pleasure. Vallen groaned quietly as his fingers were enveloped in warmth from your mouth, oh how he wished he could fuck you over the desk right now but he couldn't bring himself to embarass you like that. Your eyes rolled back as you felt yourself finally cum; white sticky liquid painted Vallen's hands.

Heavy breathing — from you — filled the awkward tension in the room before you finally turned around to see what was happening behind your back.

"You were watching the whole time?!"

"Unfortunately."

notes ,, not too happy with this one but I wanted to get something out to you guys. Also, I'm kinda liking the assistant, maybe she'll be like a side character in the future (not as a love interest, im planning for her to be a girl kisser)

[tinyowlthoughts]

The EC-Theobromine: Chocolate

"Ugh, I would kill for some chocolate right now."

Gorvan fumbled the holopad he'd been typing on, all four hands brushing against the screen as he tried to keep it from hitting the ship floor. He failed and it bounced off the tiles - thankfully neither breaking, nor denting the flooring. Grimacing, he swept it up with his tail and checked over the casing, before the alarming words registered in his head. A glance at the couch showed the human - Max - hadn't moved - still twisted up in their weird, pretzely way, chin in their weird five-fingered hand as they peered at the passing stars with a far-away look in their eyes.

"You, uh, want...chocolate?" He asked, certain he'd misheard.

"Oh my god, yes." Max heaved a sigh, shoulders rising to their weird, inefficient ears before dropping back down. "Jesus, I'd even eat a Hershey's Bar right now."

Gorvan gripped his tablet with two of his hands, hard enough to crack the casing. "Oh, um - what is a 'Hershey'?"

Max didn't look away from the window, still lost gazing into the galaxy. "It's a type of chocolate bar from Earth. Maybe a Mars Bar or a Milky Way would be better..."

Gorvan huffed through his nostrils, tail lashing anxiously behind him. "Oh. Um. I - er, I forgot I have a meeting with Captain! I have to go." Without waiting for an answer he turned and fled the recreation room, hooved feet clattering against the floor, desperate to report what he had heard. He missed the bemused look Max gave him before returning to his star gazing.

🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫

"Max."

The human paused upon entering the meeting room, seeing the rest of the C7H8N4O2 Star Explorer gathered around the table. All eight were tense in their seats, and the moth-like Elaana looked like she'd been crying. (Well, the species equivalent, which appeared as a dusting of pollen along her sharp cheekbones.)

Taurvin, the captain, was sitting in the largest seat at the head of the table, his considerable bulk looming over the rest of them. Oddly, the first-mate seat to his left was empty. Gorvan was instead sitting in Max's own.

"Uh, hey all. We playing musical chairs?" Max glanced between the empty chair and Gorvan, but when nobody asked for an explanation to their odd human reference (a common occurrence), they figured it wasn't the time for jokes.

"Have a seat, Max." Taurvin motioned to the first mate seat and, with a bit of hesitation, Max moved to take it. Luckily Gorvan, despite being bulky himself, wasn't too much larger than a standard human and the chair was comfortable enough. "We have something important to address."

Oh god above, what had they done this time? Max tried to think back to all the interactions he'd had onboard the last few weeks, but couldn't come up with anything too egregious. Sure, there was the whole joke with 'human snot is acidic' thing but that had been more of a gross-out joke for Elaana, the ships medic, who hadn't seemed to upset when he accidentally sneezed on her a few days later and dropped the act. Epitak, the ships engineer, had been pretty pissed when ze found out Max had taken apart the air filtration unit in their quarters to try and understand how it worked, but ze had also walked him through repairing it, so they thought it was all forgiven.

Oh jeeze, had they found the plans to get a kitten onboard under the 'emotional assistance animal' loophole?

"Max." Taurvin's normally jolly voice was grave, and all the crews eyes were on them as he spoke. "It has come to my attention that you have been expressing some...troubling thoughts."

Okay, definitely the kitten thing then. "Look, I can explain," they started, but Taurvin held up a large, three-fingered hand and stopped them.

"I do not want you to feel pressured to speak to us if you do not wish to. As a member of the Intergalactic Exploration Society, you have access to mental health resources at no cost, any time, anywhere. I will be more than happy to assist you in setting up a link to a therapist through HR and, if required, will grant you time off the ship if you need it. You are the best navigator I have ever seen, and I do not want to lose you."

"Well, thanks, but uh, what do you mean?" Max glanced around the table and noticed that their normally upbeat crew were all showing signs of distress (Elaana was brushing away newly fallen pollen from her compound eyes).

"Max, you requested chocolate." Gorvan reminded them. "This morning, you said you would even eat a substance known as a Hershey Bar from your home planet." The human had never heard the first mate sound so distressed. When Max just blinked, Epitak took over, beak clacking anxiously as ze spoke.

"We understand that many planets have government programs in place for self euthanasia," ze explained, technical as always in his word choice, "but we aboard this ship would much rather assist you in healing rather than lose you, despite what you may feel is best for you. Suicide by theobromine is not the way forward."

"...what."

"It's okay, love!" The pollen was flowing freely from Elaana's eyes now, and she blinked it away with her long lashes. If there weren't a table between them, Max was sure she would have bundled them up in a full-wing hug and refused to let them go. "We'll support you through it all, we promise. You're part of our crew - our family, and we never want you to feel otherwise!"

"Well, uh, thanks. I see you all as family too...?" Max glanced at the four remaining crew members. Dhaca and Lenzoill were quiet but obviously upset, Qhals was staring at the ceiling with their fanged muzzle pulled into a tight grimace, and Ir'ith was -

Ir'ith was smirking.

Max narrowed their eyes at the inventory manager who also served as the ships cook (for the simple fact that he was the only one onboard who could cook). The zad merely shrugged when their eyes met, though his grin was growing.

"I think I'm missing something here." Max admitted, looking between Gorvan and Taurvin. "This is all because I got a chocolate craving?"

"A craving?" Elaana almost lunged across the table at the word, the only thing holder her back Ir'ith's hand on her shoulder. "You mean you've had chocolate before?"

"Well, yeah? All the time." Max was not expecting the horrified expressions they received.

"So humans treat theobromine as a drug?" Epitak asked, aghast.

"Noooo...? It's a dessert. Like, a sweet treat." Max had no idea what was going on now, but by the way Ir'ith's shoulders were shaking, he did. "Hershey's is a candy bar."

"Wait," Dhaca finally spoke up, leaning forward and shoving his glasses (well, glass - one lens for one eye and all) to the top of his head, "theobromine is not toxic to humans?"

"I'm assuming that theo-stuff is chocolate?" When Dhaca nodded, Max nodded in return. "Yeah, no, chocolate isn't toxic to humans. I ate it all the time on Earth."

Ir'ith gave up and cackled, sounding a bit like the grackles Max used to watch in their back garden on Earth. The avian's wings flapped a few times as he laughed, having to lean forward and grasp his stomach with taloned claws to keep himself from falling out of his chair. When he finally glanced up at Max, it was to the flattest look the human could manage, which only sent him into another gale of laughter.

Taurvin sighed, pinching the bridge of his boar-like snout. "I believe this has all been a misunderstanding," he spoke over the cooks laughter, which had turned into squeaky gasps. "Dismissed."

A few befuddled glances were thrown Max's way, but the rest of the crew were quick to leave, avoiding Ir'ith's flapping wings as they squeezed out of the room. Soon only the cook, first mate, captain, and navigator were left.

"Sorry, kid." Ir'ith finally came up for breath, wiping at his eyes as he regained his composure. He fished into one of the many pockets that adorned his poncho and produced a bar wrapped in purple foil, which he tossed to Max. The human caught it and felt their whole face light up. "No hard feelings, right?"

"None at all, dude!" Max tore open the wrapping and took a big bite of the Cadbury Dairy Milk Bar, nearly melting at the familiar, sweet flavor exploding on their tongue.

"For the record," Ir'ith said as he stood, cracking his back, "Zad's can eat chocolate to. Let me know next time you have a craving." He sauntered out of the room, humming happily.

The three sat in silence for a moment, other than the crinkle of the chocolate bar wrapper. Finally, Taurvin cleared his throat.

"Max, I apologize for not conferring with you in private beforehand." The captain sighed. "I did not wish to embarrass you, but an intervention was suggested and I believed that comfort from your crew would be the best way to show the seriousness of our support were you truly entertaining the thought of self euthanasia."

The human shrugged. "It was nice to hear you all care about me, even though I've only been on board a few months," they admitted. "And I got chocolate out of it." He wiggled the remains of the bar.

"Still, if you ever feel the need for mental health services, they are available to you. And if there is ever anything I or the rest of the crew can do to assist you in that way, please don't hesitate to ask." Taurvin placed a hand on his chest and bowed his head, a show of sincerity for his people.

"Well," Max tapped the chocolate against their chin in thought, "there may be one thing. Have you ever heard of cats?"

Next: Bluffing

EC Theobromine Character & Worldbuilding Notes

Original Reddit Prompt:

[lushrve]

hockeyteam!141 x figureskater!reader

cause who doesn't want the image of these boys all sweaty and bloody in hockey gear (also i haven't mastered writing in a scottish or manchester accent yet so don't come for me)

you’re a figure skater, something you’ve devoted your whole life since childhood to. over the years, you’ve honed your craft, becoming one of the best in your area. you do well enough at competitions; not olympic material, but skilled enough to bring home a state title every now and again. you take pride in the way your body glides across the ice, painting pretty pictures with each scrape of the blade of your skate. it’s methodical, structured, clean. if you close your eyes, you can almost pretend you’re dancing on clouds.

it’s a small town and there’s only one ice rink for miles, so of course you run into the local hockey team practicing and warming up for matches. you don’t know most of them (don’t care to, frankly), but some are more notorious than others.

the team captain and center, price, the tactical mind behind their victories. from the few games you’ve watched them play, you can tell that he calls the shots. you watch as he sits on the bench, watching his teammates rush back and forth across the ice. it’s like he sees beyond the game. sometimes, you see him close his eyes, like he’s seeing a play take shape in his head, before calling out to the others and making it happen. they always listen, his booming baritone too compelling to disregard. (that voice made you feel something too, but you didn’t want to admit it.)

then there was a defenseman, simon. you just knew him as “riley” by the last name emblazoned on the back of his jersey. but if you listened closely (and you did), his teammates called him ghost. it didn’t take you very long to find out why. ghost was a large man, all broad shoulders and hard lines. he preferred the silent approach to taking down an opponent, slamming them against the boards before they could even register the sound of his skates scraping the ice. he played dirty, your eyes often meeting his when the referee threw him in the penalty box. (he winked at you once as he cleaned some blood from his lip, fresh from a fight. you pretended not to notice.)

left wing belonged to johnny, a scottish man they called soap. he got his nickname from his assist record, always coming in to clean up what price or ghost or another teammate had fumbled to lead his team to victory. he was quick on his feet, but brutal. while ghost was the primary muscle, soap wasn’t afraid to get physical if someone was coming between him and a goal. soap was also mouthy, chirping in his thick accent across the ice to get in the other team’s head. half the things he said, you don’t understand. hell, the other team probably didn’t either. but the tone was what mattered. (he leaned over the plexiglass after a solid win, personally inviting you back to their next home game. you blushed crimson.)

right wing was kyle. by far the prettiest one on the team, you thought. he’d take his helmet off as he skated back to the bench, running a hand through his sweat-soaked curls. the sight of him was like a work of art, a canvas brutalized by the nature of an aggressive team sport. he wasn’t as quick to get physical as the others were, but the moment everyone dogpiled on the ice, he was right there in the fray, throwing punches that landed just as loud and hard as the rest of them. the way he moved on the ice almost reminds you of your routines, careful and choreographed. he knew exactly where he was going, and he always hit his marks. (you wondered if he always moved like that, wondered if he danced through life.)

ghost and soap approached you after a win, coming up into the stands after they’d stripped themselves of their gear. while soap looked a bit smaller after shedding the heavy padding, ghost didn’t. still a hulking wall of muscle. “oughta sit in the stands mo’ often, birdie,” soap chirped, a smug smile on his face as he leaned on his hockey stick. “y’r like a good luck charm fer us.” you blushed pretty, averting your eyes and missing the way the two men looked at each other. you’d do just nicely, they thought. ghost cleared his throat, your eyes snapping up to him like he’d commanded it. (he could’ve. you would’ve obeyed.) “when d’you skate again?” he asked, arms crossed over his expansive chest.

“y’ve seen us in our element. now we wanna see you in y’rs.”

[webbluvrsugar]

hii! i love your work <3

i was wondering if i could request a fic w post-prison spencer meeting a new recruit!reader? like they've heard so many good things abt how he's the team's genius + reader's like a burst of sunshine for spence who just got out of prison and is feeling kinda jaded but the reader fully hypes him up and compliments him like crazy.

feel free to ignore if you don't want to write it! tyty! 🤍

a/n: that is literally sooo cute! Of course! Here you go luv, made it a little bit angsty but I hope you still like it!

PART TWO.

You’re anxious to meet him, you’ve been working on the team for just a few weeks and now, they finally told you that the BAU genius is coming back — they didn’t specify why he’s gone but all you know is that he’s the smartest person you’ll ever know and that you must make a good impression.

“Relax, he’ll like you.” JJ reassures you, one hand smoothing down your shoulder as she stands next to you, the rest of the team is standing in a line to greet him and surprisingly, they trusted you with the task to give him a small gift basket, assorted things like books you’ve never seen before, multiple brands of coffee, a new mug and other stuff they told you he’d like.

“Who wouldn’t? She’s a walking unicorn.” Morgan jokes, the smirk on his face cracks a smile on yours, and when you all hear the ring of the elevator, you stand in silence.

Spencer walks in, slightly surprised with the whole ‘ceremony’ the team put on, the office lights blasting at his eyes before they go down to the pretty thing in the center holding a basket, he says a little “Hi.” and you’re immediately reaching forward, presenting yourself to him.

“I’ve heard a lot of things about you, great things, I mean, I’m just so impressed by your work and I think your way of thinking is just brilliant, I mean, that case in Seattle was so hard to crack and you — you did it in a breeze!” You smile, he slightly smiles back awkwardly, Morgan’s smile widens, after all that time, he’s still the weird nerd people remember. “The team put up this basket for you, I picked things you might like, I didn’t know what brand of coffee you’d like so here’s a bunch of them and there’s also… mugs. Multiple. Ceramic.”

Spencer stands silently, nodding towards you and taking the basket before he nods at the team, walking away to his office. You’re dumbfounded, staring up at the others with a sad frown on your face.

“What—“ you sigh. “What happened? Did I do anything wrong?” You ask, a sad smile peering through your lips.

“Listen, kid, he’s just going through a tough time right now.” Rossi responds, it does nothing to soothe the slight ache in your heart, excitement fading away as fast as it came. “I’m sure he’ll like you.” He adds, doing his best to comfort you. “Was just a tad bit much.”

You stare at Spencer through the window at his office before looking back at the team. “I’m sure he will.” You try to stay optimistic, it’s the best thing you know how to do.

When you look back at Spencer, he’s fumbling around the basket, investigating the books with his long fingers, opening one in his hands and gliding through the pages.

Maybe he will like you after all.

[hyomaslut]

──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !! what is this? boyfriend material.

☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ʙʟʟᴋ ʙᴏʏs ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ ��ᴛ. 𝟷

✿ ─ characters: isagi yoichi, chigiri hyoma, reo mikage, nagi seishiro ✿ ─ cw: fluff, gn!reader, no pronouns but there are a few 'fem coded' things referenced like make up or skirts, aged-up!characters, established relationships, pet names, kissing, groping, pda, use of foul language, suggestive themes, proofread so many times so if there’s a typo ill cry ✿ ─ notes: this is my first post ♪(´▽｀) i haven't written stuff like this in a pretty long time so bear with me ‹𝟹 this is some hybrid of headcanon and drabble idk

ISAGI YOICHI is a full-fledged bonafide simp...

he suffers from tragic a condition. when he’s not trying? flirting supreme panty dropper. however, when he tries to flirt with someone he likes? bro is fumbling. at first he seems like such an instant charmer. hes a classic gentleman, great listener, and super attractive. but the second he gets an inkling of a crush, he ruins it for himself. stuttering and getting his words mixed up, saying the most embarrassing jumbled combination of what he actually meant to.

follows you around to all your tasks because how else would he spend his free time except hanging with his baby. to sephora, to the grocery store, to the salon, the the ends of the earth if that's where you're heading that day. more than happy to hold onto your hand as you go about your business, rambling about global soccer statistics and looking at you like you hold the world. yoichi is a prideful purse holder too, his arms and pockets and car being full of your belongings makes him insanely happy for some reason he can’t put his finger on. always ready to press the lip gloss you’re patting yourself down for into the palm your hand, taking a kiss as payment.

he’s bad at planning dates, so don’t put him in charge unless you want to be late to a reservation at a restaurant 2 hours away with mediocre food. he’s good at paying for them though!! the dates he does get to plan are usually to the mall. what can i say, man likes to spoil you.

at the mall isagi can kind of trick you. because typically if he were to offer to buy you a couple hundred dollars worth of things, you would absolutely refuse. buttt if its just one thing from this store and one thing from another, and maybe its the fact that you dont feel the weight of all the items as your boyfriend carries it all, but it flies under your radar. and at some point you look at yoichi… and he has a lot of shopping bags. surely some of those were his right? the little pleased love sick smile on his face says otherwise.

its so worth it to isagi tho. he gets to spend time with you, make you happy, be a doting bf. but it also means that he can pick out clothes for you. as generous as he was, he could be a bit of a greedy gifter - never leaving the mall without a new skirt of his choosing. will personally pick out a pile of things he wants you to try on just for him.

once youre with isagi for a few months, he reveals his true colors. man is a serial PDA offender. he just thinks you’re so pretty, and it gives him such an ego boost to be the guy by your side. better hold his hand or its going in your back pocket. leans in under the guise of giving you a quick, generally acceptable peck on the lips… but all of a sudden he wants another before you even fully pull away from the first and its all downhill from there. sits on your side of the table at restaurants instead of across from you so he can rest his hand on your thigh and sneak in small squeezes when he thinks youre not paying attention. and be careful about walking in front of him, he’s not strong enough to resist the urge to smack your ass.

if the PDA thing wasnt a dead give away, isagi is just very affectionate in general, honestly has a hard time leaving you alone when you’re in the same room as him. he just gravitates towards you no matter what he was previously doing. very easily distracted, very easy to bribe. he’s the type of guy where when he goes to get out of bed in the morning to go to practice, and you cling to him and ask him for just 5 more minutes, theres nothing that could stop him from sinking right back into your arms. his attendance record has definitely suffered because he is unable to deny you a single thing you ask for, especially if that thing is him.

CHIGIRI HYOMA is taken and makes sure everyone knows it…

hyoma’s partner very quickly becomes his best friend if they weren’t before they started dating. it’s not even intentional, but he gets very quickly attached to you. sure, he has a decent amount of friends, but none of them know him like you do. he loves to hear you talk about your life, invested in your daily drama and indulging you with all of his. he likes to hear your input and insights on situations. he takes notes in his phone when he sees things he thinks you would like, or conversations he had that he wants to tell you about. forever surprised by how much he misses you when you’re apart, chigiri is used to not needing anyone the way he needs you. is so much grumpier at matches that have him go abroad without you, texting you often throughout the day, whenever he can get his hands on his phone.

because you’re now his best friend and partner, chigiri’s a bit tied to you at the hip, but he would never admit to being clingy. not that you mind, hanging out with him is fun and surprisingly intimate. he never fails to hold your hand wherever you go or throw an arm around your shoulder. on dates he’ll lean in close to your ear to whisper little observations and jokes about the people around, the two of you sharing witty comments and secretive snickers behind your hands. when hanging out with mutual friends, the way yours eyes meet his wordlessly, both holding the same micro expression, indistinguishable to other people, that says “we are so talking about that later”.

speaking of clinging to your side, hyoma can have a bit of a possessive streak at times. i feel like it’s something you don’t really expect of him until there’s a guy flirting with you in a store. the way your boyfriend is at your side before you can even answer, standing at his full height, squaring his shoulders with a sour look on his face, not at all shy about the way his arm snakes around your waist. “they’re not interested.” he states plainly, as if it were obvious, but if you payed close attention to him (which you always did), you would notice the distasteful curl of his lip or the venom seeping into his tone or the way his usually gentle fingers hold onto your side with a firm grip.

he doesn’t meet your eyes after, already sensing the knowing smirk on your lips. his ears turn red when you break the silence to tell him that green was a good color on him. but, your ever clever boyfriend is quick to reply, “that’s cute baby, but i’m not jealous. you haven’t seen me when i’m jealous.” the mischievous glimmer in his eye and the smug smile he wears reminds you to not test him.

king of matching outfits with you. not in the novelty shirts cheesy way, but he always asks for a fit check before he picks you up on dates. chigiri is outside your apartment within the hour, wearing a jacket that matches the color of your shoes and a sly grin. generally starts to shift his style to be a bit more cohesive with yours, he loves going out and looking like you belong together.

not to mention, matching outfits give him more excuses to take pictures with you. photos of you and him are plastered all over his instagram, your handle in his bio and everything. he’s no amateur either, always able to catch your best side, in perfect lighting. really makes you feel as pretty as he seems to think you are. hyoma is a bit of a show off too, so he gets a bit of an ego boost getting to let everyone know how cute you are, and that you’re all his.

hyoma greatly values the alone time he gets to spend with you. the best part of his week is sitting on the couch as you help him with his hair care routine. you running a mix of the comb and your fingers through his hair as the two of you catch up on the k-drama you started together. your touch and your attention and your warm presence enough to make the stress of a pro soccer career melt off his shoulders. makes you teach him how to do your nails and learns your skin care routine so that he can return the favor, although he’s much better at the latter.

MIKAGE REO is ungodly whipped and more than a little dramatic…

if we’re talking about social media boyfriends, reo is near insufferable. let’s be real, reo was already flexing on the gram before you got with him. constantly posting pictures of his car and expensive watches and exclusive clubs. he just becomes worse when you agree to go out with him. his story is full of aesthetically blurry shots of you, sometimes featuring him, anywhere and everywhere. in his car, on dates, cooking in his kitchen. he even found the audacity to post a picture of you in his bed, your bare back in full frame, the sheets pooled around your waist. “i’m so lucky” was the caption and the only context provided. unsurprisingly the lifespan of that post was quite short once you caught wind of it, with the assurance that he wouldn’t be getting so lucky in the near future.

i totally think reo is the type of guy that tries to act like a fuckboy but is secretly a hopeless romantic. in other words, reo is a huge sap™. has a picture of you in his wallet. you’re his screen saver and all his passwords feature your name. nagi is the last person left that will still listen to reo ramble on about you, all of his other friends having gotten tired of it.

we already know that reo is taking you to fancy dinners on the regular, but more unexpectedly i think he is a big fan of outdoorsy dates. previously mentioned hopeless romantic tendencies means reo loves a picnic way more than he lets on. his favorite is when the summer comes around and he gets to take you to the beach. if reo dies and goes to heaven and it's not you rubbing sunscreen into his warm back in a skimpy swimsuit he picked out for you himself, he's not interested. a close second favorite of his is late night drives with you. all the windows of his luxury sports car down, blasting a playlist the two of you made together, singing loud and ugly down the empty freeway. in these moments you make him feel weightless and he swears it’s addicting.

king of clingy. every time that you feel your phone vibrate, there's a good chance that it's your boyfriend. never with anything important either, asking where you are, how was your day, sending you pics of whatever he is doing, even resorting to imessage games when he runs out of things to talk about. he just always finds himself itching to open your contact. if mikage reo could eat up all of your attention, he would not hesitate to do so.

reo is usually the caretaker. when he obtained status of boyfriend, you automatically went on his list of special people in his life, only really consisting of you and nagi, and this granted you the exclusive privilege of walking all over him if you so please. truly a pushover and weak to your pouts. while we’re on the subject of ways to get him to fold, reo is surprisingly easy to flatter. your compliments are honey to his ears, no matter how many people have said the same to him before. his heart thumps loud in his chest whenever you do any act of service or labor of love for him. just wait for the day you buy this man some flowers. got his hand splayed over his red face, his palm not wide enough to cover his infatuated grin. "they're really for me, babe? god i knew i picked you for a reason.”

reo's feelings for you run extremely deep. scary deep. you make him feel stupid and irrational. he can't think straight, he's impulsive. you have to keep a close eye on him because give reo enough time alone and he'll convince himself that getting your name tattooed across his chest is an amazing idea, a grandiose display of his affection and devotion to you - sick as hell too. god forbid you go on a trip by yourself, there's honestly a decent chance you'll come home to a marriage proposal and explanations on how "no no, don't worry babe, i know its sooner than you expected but i've got it all planned out.” just be glad that up until this point he has resisted the strong urge to drop a fourth of his trust fund on a ring, a price he's more than willing to pay to make you all his.

NAGI SEISHIRO is greedy and will readily take a mile if given an inch…

nagi is… new to the whole boyfriend thing to say the least. not to say he’s bad at it or anything, but i imagine that in the beginning of your relationship, things are a bit, for a lack of better words, lukewarm. he struggles a bit with recognizing that the switch from friends to more than friends is more than just the title, letting you completely take the wheel. but his passiveness doesn’t last long. not when he can’t escape the way you are constantly on his mind. he thought it was overwhelming enough having a crush on you, but now that he’s falling for you it’s on another level. he thinks of you when he first opens his eyes, facing the obnoxious blue light of his phone to send you your daily goodmorning :x . he thinks of you at night, when he’s restlessly fighting to fall asleep before he ultimately caves and facetimes you so that he can drift off to your tired mumbles and even breaths. he thinks of you when practice drags on, the anticipation of seeing you after the only thing keeping him from giving into his exhaustion.

nagi can’t get you out of his head for the life of him, but to be fair he doesn’t put up much of a fight. seishiro is used to getting what he wants, so what does he do when his desire for you becomes a hassle? he makes it your problem. constantly calling you and asking you to pick him up from social functions because he misses you. insisting that he stays the night at your place or that you come to his because he needs his daily dose of you. and he doesn’t have the shame to be shy of telling you everything on his mind either. he unintentionally says very flustering things, unabashedly demanding your touch and your company, no matter who is listening. it’s your fault he’s like this after all, you might as well take responsibility and give him what he wants.

and what he wants is affection from you, as much as he can get. serishiro is mesmerized by your reactions. being in love with you is uncharted territory that he maps out with piqued curiosity and newfound greed. especially kissing. once nagi gets his first taste of kissing you for real, messy and needy and drawn out, he never wants to go back. not after seeing your red face, eyes lidded and lips parted so cutely he just has to steal one more. now his day dreams revolve around you, what flavor of chapstick you’re wearing, what perfume do you have on, are you thinking of him as much as he does you? thats one thing he never really finds the courage to ask, but that he secretly hopes is true.

he loves to find things you can work on together, even if you always end up being the one putting in more effort. nagi will insist on cooking dinner together, and maybe you get his help for a good 10 minutes before he’s slumped in a seat at the counter eating the ingredients. buys tons of lego sets for the two of you to put together and while you’re following the instructions, he’s stealing pieces you need so he can build a little car to push around the table while he watches you figure it out. he’ll even settle for a puzzle and a movie, but your out of luck if you expect him to do anything but the edges.

the lazy genius only really has the time and energy to have a couple of important people in his life, but once you make it into that inner circle, that shit is permanent as far as he’s concerned. it begins with him telling you that it only makes sense to leave some clothes at his apartment, you’re at his place half the week anyway. and then its him smuggling over your favorite pillows and stuffed animals to his bed instead of yours. then he’s asking you to go grocery shopping with him every week. the jokes he makes about the fact that, “you keep all your stuff here anyway. just move in with me already,” are far too frequent to be subtle. but when he hits you with the puppy eyes, which are annoyingly effective, how could you say no?

you’ve put yourself in his orbit after all and now the solar system that is nagi seishiro will use his gravity to pull you inevitably closer. it’s doomed.

is my bias obvious?? cuz i feel like it might be… lmk which one was your favorite!!

© 2023 hyomaslut. please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content onto any other sites.

[oceanreveuse]

‘ 𝓸𝓯𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓮 — wriothesley x f!reader ’

★ ooc wrio? more common than u thinkies, so so so self indulgent, riding, semi-public sex, is this a breeding kink? /ref (wrap it b4 tappin it pls), daddy kink, belly bulgeeee !! praise + petnames (good girl, baby)

★ message in the foam : this is one of my older works & it shows, apologies ＿|￣|○

“that’s it,” his voice is low, a heavy timbre that rumbles from his chest as his hot breath tickles the back of your neck, “that’s a good girl.”

there’s the embarrassing wet squelch of your bodies colliding as you give your first hesitant bounce on his lap. your legs straddle him, feeling his chest press against your back as he presses loving kisses to your shoulder blades. you’ve barely began your ministrations and yet your legs are crumbling beneath you, quivering as you raise your hips to slam them back down again.

“takin’ me so well tonight, huh?” WRIOTHESLEY chuckles, a large palm sliding from your waist upwards, following the curve of your side before he cups your breast in his hand, “so fuckin’ tight baby.”

secret meetings like this in his office were nothing new between the two of you. plenty of times had you found yourself visiting for a mere cup of tea shared in the company of your partner and yet ending up tucked underneath his mahogany desk, your pretty lipgloss coated lips wrapped around his length and a calloused hand buried in your hair.

numerous times had visitors questioned wriothesley’s questionably sized desk chair and wriothesley always uttered the same excuses with that coy grin of his; it was for comfortability, of course but you knew the truth - it meant that your body could fit snugly on his lap for a multitude of purposes.

“daddy—” there’s the faintest reflection of crystalline tears in the corner of your eyes when your hips slap down onto his, his tip pressing to your spongey spot like it has done thousands of times before. wriothesley knew your body well, after all, “s-so full—”

you’re babbling and it’s barely coherent, much to wriothesley’s amusement as his spare hand wanders over your belly, pressing hard onto the bulge that comes with every bounce of your smaller body. he clicks his tongue, his hand idly squeezing your breast before it returns to your waist and helps guide you. you’re losing your pace, faltering as you arch back against his broad chest, your head resting on his shoulder as you cry out.

“you’re doing such a good job, baby, you know that?” he groans close to your ear, feeling the way your walls tighten in response to his words. your hands blindly fumble to find his arms, his hands, any of him so that you can claw at his pale skin, leaving pretty red marks as you try to find purchase.

there’s a fluttering in your tummy that can only mean one thing, drawing out more harmonious moans from your swollen lips as wriothesley’s fingers trace over your sensitive clit, giving an exceptionally sharp thrust, “makin’ such a mess… gonna have to finish inside…”

it only takes a few powerful thrusts, wriothesley’s strong grip almost bruising your waist as he holds you down on his lap, his cock bottoming out as it twitches, filling your womb with hot, sticky seed as your walls clamp and milk him dry for what he’s worth. there’s a breathy chuckle from your partner, your overstimulated body shuddering as you finally relax back against him. your legs ache, spent once again from another simple “visit” to your boyfriend’s office.

© oceanreveuse 2024 | reblogs appreciated | do not repost, steal, translate, etc. on any social media platform & do not feed to ai.

[ her lady is affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum ]

[joequiinn]

Like Aphrodite | e.m. x reader

Summary | Eddie just loves to be used by you…

Warnings & Tropes | SMUT, fem reader, established relationship, drug and alcohol use mentioned, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, some dirty talk, pet names

A/N | This little thing is so self-indulgent and based on an evening where I was crossfaded beyond belief with my partner (tmi?). I also pictured this as part of the Dos and Don’ts universe for those that know, but really this is entirely standalone.

W/C | 2.8k

Taglist | @ali-r3n @eddiernunson @edsbug

!!! MINORS DNI !!!

Sometimes you manage to get crossfaded just right that it makes you inconsolably horny. The kind of horny that no amount of sex seems capable of satiating, the kind of horny where you stay wet for hours, the kind of horny where your body entirely overrides your brain function.

And tonight was one of those evenings where it suddenly washed over you like a tsunami - you went from melting into the couch one minute to salaciously craving Eddie’s cock the next.

So, of course, like the doting partner he is, Eddie offers himself up to you, no questions asked. He’s already rock hard, dick slapping against his stomach once he frees himself from the restraint of his boxers - listening to your wonderful ten minute rambling about how wet you were was such a tease, but you were too intoxicated to even realize what you were doing to him.

You practically drool at the mere sight of him, reaching out for his cock with the hopes of taking it into your mouth, but Eddie simply slaps your hand away. It makes you giggle, until he speaks in a lusty timber to instruct you: “Use it.”

Being just faded enough, you stare at his pretty face for a few long seconds, as if the command doesn't quite make sense, your mouth hanging open slightly and your eyes doe-like. Then of course, you realize exactly what Eddie meant, your pupils growing large as you attempt to crawl into his lap and remove your panties at the same time, nearly fumbling in the process.

Considering how goddamn horny you already are, it takes you no time at all to sink down onto Eddie's cock, and when he bottoms out the two of you moan in unison.

“Fuck how are you so wet…” It's said almost as a prayer, his eyes hooded and enraptured while watching you find your rhythm. Your intoxication makes you so very sensitive, slick and stimulated even before you find the perfect position; every little motion makes you moan and mewl as you adjust to Eddie’s thick cock. 

And when you do finally find that angle that makes your eyes cross - the one that requires you to bounce on your knees a little while rolling your hips - your brain is instantly gone. Eddie's dick turns you stupid in no time at all, pornographic sounds of pleasure leaving your mouth, head thrown back as you use him all for yourself.

And Eddie sits there like such a good boy, letting you ride him to your heart's content as he stares at your beautiful face with utter ecstasy. His eyes are practically black with desire, the temptation to drive his cock up into you nearly impossible to resist; but he refrains, happy to be used as if he were a goddamn sex toy.

“This is all about you, baby,” he whispers against your ear while you brace your hands on either side of his head, your walls clenching at the sinful way he says it; Eddie moans at just how tight you are.

You alternate your titillating rhythm back and forth, starting slow before picking up the pace then slowing again, creating a friction so good that you can’t help the string of expletives that fall from your plush lips one right after the other. And you must be keeping this up for a goddamn eternity, because your thighs are on fire and your knees are shaky, but the feel of Eddie’s cock buried in your warm pussy is far too good to stop.

You ride him for so long that you can feel yourself cumming every few minutes, sparks bursting behind your eyes while shivers roll up and down your spine. Shit, not only are you crossfaded, but now you're high on desire; your orgasms are keeping you so damn wet, and every time you stop bouncing with the thought that you’ve had enough, Eddie’s cock twitches inside you, and you spiral like an addict all over again.

Feeling your thighs shaking on either side of his, Eddie grabs your ass and squeezes it tight, delighting in the sound you make in response to his rough hands. With his firm grip, he helps you rise and fall on his dick, keeping his hips from bouncing up to meet yours, as much of a struggle as that was.

“You can stop at any time, princess; this isn't for me.” His tone is both tender and sultry as he stares up at you in awe. His words feel like a challenge, giving you a second wind as you stop for a moment to look him in the eye. 

“I could do this all night.” You say through labored breath, a cock-drunk smile on your pretty face as you lean in for a sloppy, passionate kiss. Your lips trail across Eddie's jaw and down his neck before you begin to rut against him once more, ignoring the burn in your legs because your pussy feels too damn good to stop now.

You start back up slowly; considering how overstimulated you already are, even that torturous pace makes your toes curl. Your moans have grown louder, your body slick with sweat, your pussy still so damn wet. You have to keep grabbing Eddie's shoulders to steady yourself, not only loopy from intoxication but also from how fucking good his thick cock feels inside you.

Eddie's hands want to be everywhere at once, squeezing your hips and waist, teasing your nipples between his fingers, under your thighs to give you that extra bounce that makes you cry out in a way that drives him fucking mad.

He's stayed so hard for you, not even cumming once, solely focused on your pleasure alone. The sight of you greedily riding his cock, head thrown back and practically drooling, is making him crazy, but he can’t come undone, not tonight - this isn't about him, Eddie reminds himself. Watching you is pleasure enough, and he is determined to give you as many orgasms as you wanted; Eddie has always joked about having ‘reverse whiskey dick,’ as he called it, where he gets hard and stays hard without a single orgasm in sight.

So, you say you can go all night? No, Eddie’s the one that can go all night, and he’s more than happy to be used by you until the sun comes up. 

Another intense orgasm sends electricity jolting throughout your body, knees shaking, toes curling, moans loud and stuttering. Even Eddie could feel it as if experiencing aftershocks, his hands holding you tight as he watches you with total adoration and wonder.

“Like goddamn Aphrodite…” He growls, pulling you into him so he can ravage your skin with nips and kisses, teeth grazing across your neck, tongue swirling around your nipple. His touch only made your mewls more desperate, walls clenching around his cock, nails digging into his shoulders when you felt him sucking a hickey just above your collarbone. 

“You feel good, baby?” He whispers into your hair, his breath hot against your ear. Fuck, Eddie must have made you cum at least a dozen times already, but selfishly you still want more, even as your body practically melts in his hands.

You look at Eddie with hooded eyes, the buzz of alcohol and the high of weed still dancing through your body in a way that makes you so goddamn desperate for more. The goofy grin on your face must have spoken for you, because Eddie chuckles lowly, smiling back with a wickedness that was far too enticing.

“What, you still want more?” You bite your lip with a nod, despite how much your thighs are trembling. Eddie’s hands cup your ass as he practically throws you down on the couch, his cock never fully leaving you; when he sinks balls deep back into your slick folds, your legs spasm, and Eddie gives you a cruel, adoring look, “Oh, princess, you really want more? You're already shaking from how much dick you already got…”

“I can take it--” You spoke airily, chest heaving as Eddie waits, watching you squirm in an attempt to create some friction between you two. He ruts deeply into you with one tantalizing, slow roll, causing a sharp sound of pleasure to escape you as you twitch; Eddie looks between your face and your leg, his hand firmly squeezing your thigh as it still trembles.

“You sure about that?” Eddie taunts again, teasing as he wiggles his hips against yours, feeling your clench rapaciously around his cock. You cling to him, nails digging into his back, heels hooking around his legs as if silently insisting that he give you more. So, he pulls out of you only to sink right back in, gripping tight to your shaky legs as he does so.

“God, you’re such a mess…” Eddie’s salacious words are like music to your ears; he sets a slow pace, drinking in the way that you twitch and moan and squirm with utter delight, “All this dick isn’t enough for you? You wanna have it all night long?”

Your attempt to respond is simply a blissful hum, eyes crossed with a stupid smile on your lips. Eddie picks up the pace just a little - though not too much because he knows how much a slow fuck drives you wild - holding your legs up so that he can bury his dick even deeper. Each and every thrust has you whimpering, your body nearly overwhelmed by how fucking good you feel. As your knees continue to shake uncontrollably, you desperately grab at the couch and then his shoulders for purchase, struggling to even keep your eyes open as pleasure rolls over you in wave after wave after wave.

Fuck, how was it even possible to cum this much, how was it possible for you to still be so goddamn wet and begging for more? 

“This what you want, princess? Want me to fuck you senseless?” Eddie makes the question sound so loving, even as he’s now struggling to maintain his composure. His forehead is sticky with sweat, his skin on fire, breath hot against your neck.

You scarcely even manage to say the words, “yeah, baby,” the response so damn breathless with euphoria that Eddie almost couldn’t hear it.

His hips began to slap against yours more feverishly, the tip of his cock hitting that sweet spot deep inside you that makes you cry out, legs shaking wildly as your nails dig so hard into him that you break skin. Words of praise and admiration spill from Eddie’s lips, a string of them one right after the other, but you’re so high up on cloud nine that you barely understand them, as if spoken in a foreign tongue.

Your body quakes with total ecstasy before it seems to give up, trembling from head to toe before collapsing heavily into the plush couch. Eddie’s eyes ardently gaze down on you, admiring your lidded eyes and open mouth, the love bites down your neck, the heavy rise and fall of your breasts, glistening with sweat. Slowly, he slides his cock out of your pussy - still wet and desperate for him - and a whine escapes you at the loss of your bewitching sex toy.

A wicked look flashes across Eddie’s face as he presses his thumb lazily to your clit, thrilling at the way your legs instantly twitch at the sensation. Your hips roll weakly, so, obligingly, Eddie begins to massage your overstimulated bud in the way he knows you adore. With his other hand, he holds your knee tight, keeping you from clenching your legs together as cries of pleasure leapt out of you, body shaking and fists gripping tightly into the couch cushions.

“Oh, darling, you’re spent…” Eddie’s words are wanton and yet goading, as if he hopes that you’ll find the energy to argue with him. And sure enough you do, though all you can manage is a heavy hum of disagreement as you try to keep your moans from disturbing your neighbors, having forgotten that the two of you left the windows open.

Eddie slides his thumb from your clit to your pussy, slowly lowering his head down between your legs; he presses his tongue provocatively against you, your entire body practically jumping at the sensation. He slowly dips two fingers between your wet folds, giving you only a moment before his mouth absolutely lavishes you, tongue and teeth feverish on your clit.

Your legs almost snap shut around his head, but predicting as much, Eddie has his free hand ready, firmly grabbing hold of your quivering thigh and keeping it in place. It’s like static electricity is being shot through your entire body, everything shaking and jumping and twitching at the swirl of Eddie’s tongue, at the pumping of his fingers. You throw one hand over your mouth in a useless effort to contain yourself, whimpers and sobs so loud and unruly that it made Eddie smile against you.

The stimulation is becoming overpowering, your body attempting to retreat from Eddie as another orgasm rolls through you; using both hands now, he keeps you firmly in place as his mouth becomes more zealous, as if silently taunting “isn’t this what you wanted?” 

You grab desperately at Eddie’s hair, hips stuttering up against his mouth as he continues to hold tight to your legs, finding far too much enjoyment in the way you writhe against him, in the way you taste. Fuck, he nearly wishes he’d been counting your orgasms, because tonight has to be one for the history books; your arousal was so goddamn intoxicating, in a league entirely of it’s own.

Finally relenting after what must’ve been a lifetime, Eddie removes his lips from you, smiling wildly at the way your slick body collapses into the cushions, eyes closed and heavy gasps of air passing between your lips. He happily lounges there between your legs, the scent of your arousal surrounding him as he watches your strung out face; eventually, you open your eyes again, resting the back of your hand to your forehead, chest heaving as you catch your breath. Your gaze trails down to look at Eddie’s handsome face, a toothy smile spreading across your lips at the self-satisfied look on him.

“I think you need a break, princess.” His breath is warm against the inside of your thigh, lips grazing along your skin.

You shake your head with a happy hum, voice weak and a little slurred from the combination of weed, alcohol, and really fucking good sex, “No, we’re gonna go all night…”

As if to prove a point, Eddie teases your pussy with a single finger, grinning sinfully at the way your body instantly responds, back arching, legs shaking, mouth moaning. He gives you a smart look while removing his hand, receiving a silly little glare as your only means of retaliation, considering that your body felt like pudding.

Eddie presses a light kiss against your leg before rising from the couch, your eyes going wide with hunger at the sight of his cock, still hard and flushed red. Seeing your expression change, he points a reprimanding finger in your face, “No.”

You laugh pleasantly at the admonishment, curling your sore legs against the couch as you watch Eddie like you were a lovesick puppy; he smiles contently down at you before turning towards the kitchen, your eager gaze enjoying the view of his ass before he disappears around the corner.

Returning back a minute later with a glass of water, he holds it out for you, forcing you to sit up, which makes your entire body ache in protest. You try not to ogle his dick, but even as you’re chugging down cold water, your eyes are staring over the rim of the cup. As if possessed by the sight of him, you once more reach out for Eddie’s cock, but he dodges your reach with another stern look; you smile with faux innocence while holding the glass up to him.

Eddie takes the cup and knocks back the rest of the water, leaving it carelessly on the coffee table. He starts to fuss with his unruly hair, pulling it up into a messy bun while walking back towards the bedroom without a word. You make a face at his back, and as if he can feel your eyes burning into him, he pauses and turns back around.

“Well,” he raises his brows in question, a playful smirk on his lips, “You coming?”

Giddily, you shoot up to your feet, ignoring the burning in your thighs as you rush to follow after him for round two.

[cxrdycxps]

Pillow Talk • Joel Miller

☢️ Smut • p in v • unprotected • f!reader • no y/n ☢️

Main Masterlist • Joel Miller Masterlist

It didn’t happen every time you both slept together. Hell, sometimes it was a quick fumble in the stables or some messing around in the bathroom of the Tipsy Bison.

This thing wasn’t serious between you both. He needed the stress relief and you were happy enough to give him some.

“Most of the time I just miss football.” He laughed, careful not to jostle your head where it lay against his broad chest.

He had just rendered you speechless after a night at the Tipsy Bison and now all he wanted to do was talk about what he missed.

“I miss fruity shower gels and shampoo that made my hair smell like coconut.” You whispered quietly and he nodded slowly, another chuckle reverberating in his chest.

You ran your hand over his stomach, a little soft even with the layer of hard muscle under. He was just so big, it made your mouth water from across the room.

Every time you caught a glance of those shoulders you got flashes of your legs being thrown over them while he ate you out like a starved man.

Every time he ditched the flannel so you could watch his biceps flex against his t-shirt all you could picture was the strain in them when he fucked you against the wall.

The stretch of his thighs against his jeans reminded you of the times where you hadn’t even made it up the stairs, rutting against his leg like a damned dog.

The sex was phenomenal. No matter how often or how sparse it was. It always shook you to your core.

The added benefit of sleepy pillow talk was always nice. Sometimes he talked about life before, sometimes he talked about how life had turned out. He didn’t often discuss the last twenty years.

“I miss celebrating my birthday. I’d spend the day of my birthday working or whatever. Then Sarah and I would do something. Then Tommy and I would hit the strip club at the weekend.” Joel shook his head with a sigh but you finally raised yours. “It all seems so stupid now. But we had been doing it since we were barely legal enough to get into a strip club.”

“There’s a million things to miss and you miss a woman shaking her ass for you to toss a few dollars to.” You teased and he rolled his eyes. “Tell me, did you have a favorite? Do you miss her?”

“Yeah, you know what? I did have a favorite, pretty little thing. She could shake her ass like it was no one’s business. Used to book her privately too.” Joel had no shame despite you trying to embarrass him and you could only laugh at him, propping your head up on your elbow to watch him.

“Well Mr. Miller, I know in this town we don’t celebrate your birthday. Mourning and all that. But if you’re really lucky, I might get you a present.” You winked at him as you slipped from the bed, grabbing for your clothes. Your sister would no doubt be wondering where you had disappeared to.

“Oh yeah, what’s that then?” He asked, turning his head to look at you as you pulled your jeans on.

“Well, when the world went to shit I used to be one of those pretty young things. And your favorite girl might have been able to shake her ass with the best of ‘em, but I’ll show you how a professional does it.” You promised, buttoning your blouse.

Joel watched you for a few seconds, his mouth agape before he reached a hand out, lightning quick despite his age. He dragged you back to the bed, pinning you under him and you were surprised to find him pressed against you.

“I ain’t got that hard that quick since I was in my twenties.” Joel grunted, working your jeans back down past your hips.

He didn’t take them off, pinning your wrists above your head and lining himself up with the other hand to slam into you with minimal warning.

You groaned loudly, arching your hips towards him as he fucked into you, one goal in mind. “Gonna shake your ass for me? Think you would’ve let me pay you for a private show? Course you would, my fucking girl.”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. It felt like he was filling you all the way. Like you could feel him taking up space in your air way. You could barely do more than arch your hips with how he had you pinned but you didn’t need to do anything else. Just let him fuck you.

You had had angry sex with Joel. You had been fucked, you had been romanced, you had done it all. But this? This hard and fast and brutal pace? This had to be your favorite. He had barely started and already you were sprung tight, ready to explode.

“Joel, I’m gonna-“

“Yeah, you fucking are. Gonna come all over me, I need it baby. Gonna take you in doggy next, see that ass bounce for me. Fucking knew you’d be able to dance. Knew that first day I saw you.” He grunted, fucking into you hard and fast. “Better find some lace baby, I want the whole fucking show.”

You couldn’t reply, throwing your head back and moaning loudly as you came and he continued to pound into you. He pulled out before he was finished and before you could complain you were flipped onto your stomach.

“Hands and knees, let’s see what those hips can do.” A rough smack against your ass had your scrambling to comply, knowing you wouldn’t be making it home tonight.

[inesbaby21]

Caitlin clark and a feminine reader who's her gay awakening. She and the reader are like really good friends at first, and then it slowly turns into something more. Maybe she gets jealous when she sees you hang out with another player like paige or Kate.

"You've got it badddd"- Caitlin Clark

3rd person P.O.V

Don't get me wrong, you and Caitlin had always been close- even when you decided that staying in Iowa wasn't the choice for you. While you had no open regrets you missed the late night conversations with Cait, often talking about how you wanted your hair done next- or maybe which pair of jeans would go best with the new shoes you had ordered.

Being friends with someone who was so comfortable, and open with their femininity was something new to caitlin- almost scary. She was so used to the girls on her team not putting in effort to match the accent of their tees to their new shoes, or waking up an extra hour early to do their makeup because "it made them feel pretty" (you were always pretty to her, especially when you were focused on making a shot- oh and no doubt when you let out a snort from laughing too hard, ultimately causing you to laugh even harder from the embarrassment.)

So, why exactly did it take Caitlin until her junior year of COLLEGE- and subsequently the year you decided that maybe switching your Uconn to be closer to your older (adoptive) sister would be best for you to admit to herself that maybe (definitely) she likes you more than a friend? Why did it take her until the same pink luggage you had arrived with almost two years ago had been packed- and placed neatly in the white car with pink interior that she knew all too well for her to finally gain the courage to admit the feelings she had felt for you for years?

The same feelings that made her want to play a little too hard at the USA basketball tournament- even though she didn't know exactly who you were. That didn't matter though, you stood out like a sore thumb- a small red skirt, crisp white tee with words that read along the lines of "written by lana del something" adorn with red lettering- with makeup soft, and light giving you an almost angelic look.

Don't get even get me started on how unfocused she was that entire game- staring at the shot clock, and then you, and then the clock again. Fumbling the ball- and forgetting to use her pivot when she got a rebound. These little things caused to her ultimately get benched, finding her spot next to Paige as Hailey subbed her out for that quarter- she and Paige talked, about nothing too serious until Caitlin mentioned being distracted by not her nerves.. but by someone sitting in the stands with a ridiculously large ipad.

"No fucking way Caitlin" Paige said a little too loud for the girls liking as she shushed her out of fear of the coaches hearing.

"What? I'm just saying she's really pretty- and from the way she's been at all of the games this week I think she may be one of the girls sister or something" Caitlin said completely oblivious to the fact that the girl she had been almost studying for a week was Paige's younger sister- the same girl who she would spend the next 3 1/2 years yearning after too scared to make the first move.

"Caitlin" the Blonde said- dropping her voice an octave and sitting up straight. "That's my fucking sister you dimwit" she said lightly shoving the now pale girl sitting beside her as she laughed at the expression on the girls face.

"Oh my gosh- I.. I-I'm so sorry, I take all of that back" The brunette began to ramble scared by the sudden change of atmosphere. Not paying the panicking girl any attention Paige began to laugh as the entire situation was nothing short of hilarious to her- and honestly she started shed a few tears before her attention was called back to the game as she was subbed in.

This experience was one of many that occurred until you and Caitlin finally crossed paths in college. It was no secret that you had many offers from many different schools, and that ultimately when you committed to Iowa that there was bound to be a bit of sibling rivalry as both of you were very competitive. It was alsooo noted how much time you spent with the girls on the team with you- now don't get me wrong Caitlin couldn't exactly be jealous when you and Molly Davis began to hang out with one another outside of practice. But something in her snapped when you sad been elbowed in the face by an opponent while getting a rebound, and as she rushed to make sure you were okay the girl nudged her slightly backwards as she helped you up herself l- glaring at Caitlin on the court seemingly forgetting that there were cameras everywhere.

Fast forward to now. She had spent months upset with you- leaving you confused and ultimately hurt as you spent time attempting to figure out what exactly you did wrong. Was it the overwhelmingly positive attitude? The almost sickening pink bedroom decor (you had offered to tone your side of the room down too many times to count. ) Maybe it was the idea of you getting too close to molly, and then when you had sprung the news of you transferring to Uconn as a last resort to getting more playing time- and being able to showcase your talent like promised.

Whatever the reason was, it had Caitlin Clark avoiding you like the plague for months, ignoring the small talk you made when she was in your shared dorm- if she was even there. She began to spend the night with Kate as she had no roommate, and if she wasn't with Kate she was simply out all night.. and who were you to judge her- she was constantly put under stress to play her best, practice like it was a game, and most importantly to not let herself get too involved with anything relationship related.

That last reason alone was why she found herself with a ridiculously heavy, pink gift basket in hand as she marched towards the white car- just as nervous as the USA youth tournament that ultimately changed her life. She spent about a week writing the letter confessing her feelings- and with the help of Molly (ironic right ..) she picked out things that she knew you would not only like, but that help some form of value to you.

"Y/N/N" The girl yelled half heartedly- more sad about your departure, than nervous about giving you the note.

"Hey Caity" You said back with a bright smile- a smile that matched your bubbly voice. Caitlin would never understand why you couldn't hold grudges, even after icing you out for months- ignoring every attempt you gave to communicate, and borderline moving out you still had the heart to forgive her- and sometimes she wondered why it was so easy for you to forgive.

As you close the trunk of the SUV, you walked towards the nervous girl- taking the gift from her hands and giving her a tight hug around the neck, as her hands find their place along your waistline. The two of you stayed like that for a while until she pulled away to get a good look at your face. Caitlin could tell you really didn't want to leave Iowa, but your sister needing support as she was injured, and if you wanted any shot at potentially getting drafted you needed to have more playing time- more time to show how much you've grown as a player, more time to show who you were- to make a name for YOURSELF. These things combined together left you with no choice but to transfer, and why not transfer to a school where your sister already resided with her girlfriend? Why not transfer to a team full of love, and support with multiple great coaches?

Transferring was the best option for you, and Caitlin tried to understand that. Even if it meant potentially losing you, but deep down something inside of her told her that the distance would only bring the two of you closer- it would only feed the growing feeling from both parties, that it would only heal the wound that had opened as a consequence of pushing one another away. As you pulled away from the girl completely- you stared at the basket full of goodies.

"Oh Cait- You didn't have to get me anything"- You said tearing up, it was a thought out gift that obviously took some planning- and the price didn't matter to you as it was something that she had taken time to put together for you. "No, No I wanted to Y/N/N" she girl said with a bright smile "I wrote you a letter that I think you should really read"

As you carefully pull the letter out of its envelope, your eyes skim over the beautifully written piece of card stock- pink ink neatly written on the thick piece of paper as your begin to smile ear to ear. With no other words you drop the letter into the baby pink basket- leaning up and kissed the taller girl passionately, and as you pulled away breathless you began to mutter something along the lines of "Actually the shirt said written by Lana Del Rey" giggling as you began to think back to the day you set your eyes on the girl.

A/N-I'm sorry about being inactive everyone! i have band camp soooo i've been super busy and will be for the next few weeks! Also, im getting to my request/drafs bear with me 🙏🏾. ALSO please ignore my grammar issues, i didnt proof read it all the way- and im also playing around with the plot ngl. butttt i love you guys! and thank you for 120 followers! 💕❤️

tags; @cosmopretty

[hitomisuzuya]

Aventurine x fem!reader. Fluff. Smut. Kissing. Fingering. Thigh riding.

When Aventurine woke up from an intense nightmare, sweaty and shaking with a trembling heart, you gave him something special that you had prepared ahead of time.

A coupon of sorts. One for unlimited kisses that he could cash in whenever he wanted. Now, kisses were always unlimited, but you figured this added that extra flair Aventurine is so fond of.

Most times after a nightmare, Aventurine insisted on not going back to sleep. But this made him fall back to sleep with a smile on his face, thinking about all the ways he was going to use this.

And oh boy, did this man use it.

Good morning and good night kisses were now doubled. If Aventurine was walking by you in either direction, he would lean down and steal a kiss both ways.

If you asked him to hand you something, he kissed you before he handed it to you. If you were walking by him in either direction, Aventurine was wag his finger at you, and get a kiss from you both ways.

He also liked to tease you with them. Sometimes, he would lean in and pull away with a chuckle, knowing you were anticipating his kiss. You jokingly said, "Keep that up, and I'll start charging you a kiss toll," with a shy blush on your cheeks, your lips somehow feeling empty without his on them. He loves how easily flustered you get when he teased you with kisses. Or in general really.

Aventurine looked at you, laughed and said he would pay up ten years worth of the kiss toll in one payment. And to name your price. What a way for him to state commitment to you.

There were times when it was hard for Aventurine to control himself kissing you. There are those long, slow kisses as he pins you against the wall. Deep, passionate, and open mouthed. He will only pull away for a few moments to breath before his lips were back on yours, his hands roaming and groping under your clothes.

He can feel you melting, the sensation of his tongue curling and gliding around yours stealing the breath from your lungs. When you start losing yourself in him, your arms wrapped around him, grinding against him while he fumbled shakily with your clothes, Aventurine clings to it.

The intimacy of kissing is a deep thing for him.

It makes him all the more weaker when he can swallow soft moans, one hand holding your jaw while the other was busy playing with your nipples or stroking you teasingly outside your panties.

Aventurine absolutely enjoys enjoys stealing a kiss from you after watching you squirm, grinding on his thigh as you worked yourself into a wet mess. He'll press his lips against yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth as you whimper and moan. "Look at the mess you are making on my expensive pants, sweetheart," He rubbed his thigh against your pussy, making your back arch, "Good thing you sound so pretty."

Your walls clenched around nothing, your panties clinging and rubbing on your throbbing clit added extra friction. He put a hand on hip, guiding you to better grind on his thigh, sending your legs shaking and your body trembling with pleasure. An ever present smile on his face while he edged you into cumming on his thigh.

Your head dropped down into his neck, panting and twitching as he rubbed your clit through your orgasm. He'll gently lift your head from his neck, and give you tenderest kiss.

Aventurine's lips would hover teasingly over yours while he fingered you. Your hips bucked and jerked to grind into his fingers as he hooked them expertly into your spongy spot. His tongue swept across your lower lip, groaning as he felt your juices ooze out around his fingers. "Look at you," He laughed teasingly, giving you a quick kiss on your lips as you start to babble about how good his fingers were making you feel, and if you could suck them clean when he was finished, "So fucked out, and I haven't made you cum yet."

[llamagoddessofficial]

Another morsel of the Mafia bad sanses ... pretty please

After Nightmare decides you're now his, the other three skeletons become your bodyguards. They're the only ones allowed around his human. They rotate as Nightmare sees fit - some days, it could be just one of them, and some days it could be all three at once. Depends on who's available. And who Nightmare is getting jealous of

They don't tell you what they do when they're away. There's a lot they'll give you. That information is one of very few things they won't.

Killer's bodyguard days mostly involve junk food and videogames, which can be a relief when you're constantly around people who seem accustomed to exorbitant amounts of wealth. But he's also, conveniently, the only one Nightmare trusts to take you out of the mansion alone. Dust has his own agenda and is much too untrustworthy, Horror's protectiveness might cause a scene if he doesn't have another powerful skeleton around to reel him in. If you want to go on a quiet duo daytrip, Killer's your man.

Killer is honestly a pretty good friend. He knows how to make you laugh, even in your deepest slumps. He pays attention to what you like, he's never too energetic to notice the moment and slow down when you need him to. But... at the end of the day, he simply can't be trusted with your innermost thoughts. Not when he's so hard to read; not when there's so much he clearly isn't telling you. Everything could be fake. You have no idea.

Dust will spend his one-on-one days looking after you. He's very much the one who gets your innermost thoughts. You both complain in low tones to each other about your current situation, making the most of having someone else who understands. He promised he wouldn't leave you alone here. He was serious about that.

Nightmare trusts Dust with you the least. But he can literally taste how much of your stability and comfort relies on Dust's presence. He isn't happy about it, but Dust gets to play with you for now. But Nightmare has made it (violently) clear to Dust that if he ever acts on the soft & romantic feelings Nightmare can sense within him, there won't be room for mercy.

Horror really likes being your sole bodyguard for the day, because he gets to double as an in-house chef, cooking whatever you like. He loves looking after you. It's still difficult to imagine Horror as the monster people say he is; you know logically that it's true. But he's just so sweet with you. He bakes, he smiles, he follows. He tries to tell a joke but fumbles, but you laugh anyway and his whole face lights up. How can this possibly be the man from all the stories you've heard?

Nightmare is, honestly, pretty awkward when he's actually got time to be alone with you. He likes taking you to nice places, but he doesn't ever know what to say. He's not used to being flustered - and his stony face and frightening aura mean that when he's flustered he appears unamused and scary. There'll be plenty of misunderstandings where you think you're boring/offending him, but really, he's the happiest he's been in months.

Nightmare is aggravated that you grew to like the other three before him. Were they any other men, he'd simply have them killed or sent away, unwilling to share you with anyone... but as vicious as he is, he doesn't want to immediately frighten you so severely. And he can't really afford to murder all three of his top soldiers just because he's jealous.

... Nightmare's power grabs around the city have slowed almost to a halt.

Dream has noticed.