#these things aren’t overwhelming or always happening but they are *there*

[writeriguess]

Hello! I hope you had a great day/night🥰

I was wondering If you could make a smutty fem reader x katsuki bakugo

the reader and bakugo have been together for some time and every time they had sex nothing really happened, the did it, did aftercare and went to bed (most of the times) but this time the reader was at bakugo's house visiting him but for some reason bakugo gets riled up and wants to do it with the reader, his parents weren't in the house anyway so he didn't need to stress about someone interrupting so in the end they end up having sex.

But katsukis mom and dad comes early and he doesn't notice, while the reader and katsuki are doing their thing Mitsuki hears strange noises come from bakugos bedroom. She ends up curious and walks towards his room to find out what was happening but then is meet with you and katsuki.

Katsuki gets really embarrassed but mitsuki isn't mad, instead she shouts "Are you finally making my grandkids"

You don't need to write a fanfic about this! You have full right to delete! But this is just an idea that has been roaming in my head for days and I just really want someone to write a fic abt this😅

Anyways! I won't be sad or mad if you delete this, write it if only you're comfortable❤️

(Also sorry for shifting between bakugo and katsuki I didn't know which of them to use😅)

Heat of the Moment

The thing about Bakugo was that he had control. Most of the time.

Sure, he had a temper, and yeah, he was easy to rile up in a fight, but when it came to you? He always kept himself in check. He never let himself get too lost in it, never let his instincts take over, because he didn’t want to overwhelm you.

That was… until tonight.

You weren’t even trying to be subtle. Maybe it was the fact that his parents were gone, maybe it was just because you wanted to push his buttons, but every little thing you did was setting him off.

The way you sat so close to him on the couch, your thigh pressed against his. The way your fingers lazily traced the muscles in his forearm while you pretended to be watching the movie on the screen. The way you leaned in, lips just barely ghosting over his ear as you whispered, “You’re so tense, Katsuki… want me to help you relax?”

And fuck, he tried. He really fucking tried to ignore it. To just smirk and brush it off like you weren’t making his dick throb with every slow, deliberate movement.

But when you climbed onto his lap, straddling him without a second thought, and rolled your hips down against the growing bulge in his sweats?

That was it. That was the fucking breaking point.

His hands were on you in an instant, rough and possessive as he grabbed your waist and slammed you back down against his hard length. “You think you’re fuckin’ cute, don’t you?” His voice was low, dangerous, but the way his cock twitched against you gave away just how much you were affecting him.

You bit your lip, looking down at him with those teasing eyes that had been driving him insane all night. “Maybe,” you mused, rolling your hips again, slow and deliberate. “Are you gonna do something about it?”

A guttural growl rumbled in his chest before he flipped you onto your back, pressing you into the couch with his weight. His knee shoved between your thighs, spreading you open for him as he loomed over you, crimson eyes dark and full of hunger.

“Oh, I’m gonna do a lot more than something, baby,” he muttered, voice thick with lust. One hand shot under your shirt, fingers finding your breast and squeezing, rolling your nipple between his rough fingertips as his other hand slid down to your shorts. “Gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

You gasped as he shoved your shorts down, not bothering with finesse. His fingers slid between your thighs, pressing against your already slick folds. “Fuck,” he groaned, a smirk tugging at his lips. “All this from a little teasing? You’re such a fuckin’ slut for me, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, hips arching into his touch, and he chuckled darkly. “Nah, don’t even try to play shy now. You wanted this.”

And then he was lining up, shoving his sweats down just enough to free his cock. Thick, hard, already leaking precum. He didn’t even tease—he just grabbed your hips, lined up, and thrust inside in one deep stroke.

The stretch was sudden, almost too much, but fuck, the way he groaned against your neck made it impossible to care. “So fuckin’ tight,” he growled, giving you barely a second to adjust before pulling out and slamming back in, hard and fast.

You cried out, legs wrapping around his waist as he set a relentless pace, hips snapping against yours with loud, wet slaps. Every thrust had your head spinning, had your body arching up into him as he fucked you deep into the couch.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, huh?” he panted, lips brushing against your ear. “Wanted me to snap? Wanted me to fuck you like I couldn’t wait another second?”

You moaned, nails digging into his back, and he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head as he drove into you even harder. “You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ good,” he muttered, lips trailing down your neck, sucking a mark into your skin. “So fuckin’ perfect—made for me.”

His name fell from your lips over and over, breathless and desperate, and he drank in every sound, every little whimper. “Yeah, that’s it,” he groaned, pounding into you with reckless abandon. “Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you.”

You didn’t even need to be told. The coil in your stomach snapped, pleasure hitting you like a shockwave as your walls clamped down around him. Your whole body shook, a high-pitched moan spilling from your lips as you came hard around his cock.

Bakugo snarled, hips stuttering as he chased his own release, burying himself as deep as he could before spilling inside you with a guttural groan. His grip on your wrists tightened as he rode it out, panting against your neck before finally collapsing on top of you.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the ragged breathing of both of you trying to come back down from the high. Then, finally, Bakugo chuckled, low and satisfied.

“Next time you wanna tease me,” he murmured, voice still husky from exertion, “just tell me you wanna get fucked stupid, princess.”

You giggled breathlessly, running your fingers through his damp hair. “Noted.”

Though, judging by the way his cock twitched inside you again, it seemed like one round wasn’t going to be enough tonight.

A while later, you were on it again.

Katsuki had barely given you a break before he was all over you, flipping you onto your stomach and muttering about how you were gonna “pay for riling him up like that.” Not that you were complaining.

The only problem? He was so lost in you that he didn’t hear the front door open.

Didn’t hear the sound of keys dropping into the bowl.

Didn’t hear the unmistakable click of his mother’s heels as she walked down the hallway.

You, on the other hand, froze the second you heard a voice call out:

“We’re home! Bakugo, did you clean the—”

And then, before either of you could react, before Katsuki could even think to move—

The bedroom door swung open.

Mitsuki Bakugo stood there, eyes wide, taking in the absolute disaster of a scene before her. Her son, bare-ass naked, hovering over you. Your face buried in the pillow, Katsuki’s hands gripping your hips. The sheer horror on your face as you registered what was happening.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then—

“HOLY FUCK, MOM—!”

Katsuki launched himself off of you, scrambling for the sheets in sheer panic. You barely managed to yank a blanket over yourself before Mitsuki’s voice rang through the house:

“ARE YOU FINALLY MAKING MY GRANDKIDS?!”

You wanted to die. Right there. On the spot. Instant cardiac arrest. Take me now.

Katsuki’s face was redder than his damn explosions. “WHAT THE HELL, OLD HAG? GET OUT!!”

But Mitsuki wasn’t done. No, she was grinning. Grinning. Hands on her hips like this was the best news of her life.

“Damn, about time!” she continued, ignoring the way Katsuki was practically combusting. “I was starting to think you were incapable—”

“SHUT UP!!” Katsuki grabbed the nearest object���a pillow—and launched it at her with enough force to send it flying down the hallway.

Mitsuki just cackled, dodging effortlessly. “Make sure you’re using protection, brat—unless you’re actually trying to give me grandkids—”

“OUT!!”

With one last laugh, she finally strolled out, still muttering about how she was “too young to be a grandma, but still, wouldn’t mind a little mini-Katsuki running around.”

The moment the door slammed shut, Katsuki flopped onto his back, covering his face with both hands.

Neither of you spoke.

Neither of you could speak.

Until finally, after what felt like an eternity, you whispered:

“…So, uh. Round three?”

Katsuki groaned. “I hate you.”

But the way he rolled back over you said otherwise.

[sewerratzz]

finch give me like a v short synopsis of always sunny in Philadelphia and then link like ur fav always sunny in Philadelphia fics uve written so i can read it please

ohmigosh you have given me a huge challenge here OKAY SO

very basic is that Always Sunny is about this group of people that absolutely suck !! and like, it's not even like they're nice to each other (well. sometimes. most of the time no), they literally are just the worst people ever. like this perfectly sums up this group

this is The Gang. in order, their names are Charlie Kelly, Dee Reynolds, Frank Reynolds, Dennis Reynolds, and Ronald "Mac" McDonald. yes his name is ronald mcdonald. the reveal of this being his name is hilarious

they all have many issues. like so many. severe issues. they refuse to acknowledge them or deal with them or change at all.

[ofc you don't necessarily have to watch the show before reading my fics but i will always reccomend watching it in general because i love this show an unhealthy amount. Charlie is literally why my url is sewerratzz & the reason my first chosen name was charlie. i <3 him hes my fav]

there's not really much plot at all to this show. it's just stuff happening. it's great & i love it

most of my sunny fics are Charlie/Mac, so a brief exposition for their relationship is that they both have horrible home lives and parents, and they've been each other's best & only friend since elementary school. god early seasons charmac save me. they have many moments throughout the show of being sweet to each other and they're my favourites

one fic of mine i love very much is a Deetress fic, so more exposition !! this ship is Dee [see above] and The Waitress, pictured here

she doesn't have a name in the show/in canon she is literally called the waitress since season 1. i also love her. she also sucks now !! she didn't before but the gang happened and she's really. yikes. poor her yk? she has a history with quite literally everyone in the gang, has slept with all of them (except dee. but you know, they're totally lesbians and if you watch the show they have 100% hate-fucked. TECHNICALLY HEADCANON BUT. yk. subtext :p) and Charlie specifically has stalked her for. years and years.

now my fics :p

[quietwingsinthesky]

IT’S SUCH A GOOD EPISODE GODDDDD

[spxllcxstxr]

Jayce and Viktor with a S/O who is Hypersensitive to Loud Noises • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: hi !! how are you ? <3 your jayvik fics are so cute ☺️could i mayhaps request jayvik x gender - neutral reader headcannons with a reader whos hypersensitive to loud noises ? <3 tysm 💙-- anon

Warnings: gn!reader, hypersensitivity to loud noises

A.N: I'm so glad you guys like my jayvik stuff!!! I have a lot more in the works (including fics!!) Thank you so so much for the kind words, I hope you enjoy!!!

•

Jayce and Viktor are very understanding of your hypersensitivity. They never want to make you feel like a lab rat or test subject, but throughout your relationship they do take note of how loud is too loud and overwhelming for you. It’s because they care about you, of course

Viktor is especially understanding of it because he isn’t always too fond of touch. So he likes knowing your boundaries and how much is too much. They don’t walk on eggshells, but they do try to do everything as carefully and as quietly as possible. The last thing they want to do is trigger you and make you wince in pain at the volume

Jayce once slammed the front door of your apartment in frustration and immediately filled with guilt as his face drained of color. He saw you flinch and cover your ears and that man was in tears. He is just absolutely in love with you and the thought of causing you pain, even accidentally, just kills him inside. He always places his hands gently on your cheeks, peppering kisses on your forehead in apology

Viktor is mostly the same when it comes to accidentally making a loud noise. Sometimes his cane will fall to the floor making a loud bang which triggers it. Viktor likes giving you a tight hug as an apology as he whispers little things in your ear. He’s a bit of a mess as well, but he knows that accidents will happen and that you wouldn’t hate him for his lack of control over gravity

More often than not, Jayce and Viktor’s lab is filled to the brim with random loud noises. Sometimes they’re high-pitched beeps, other times the whirring of electricity, or the clanking of gears mashing inharmoniously together

(On those few days when your partners aren’t hectically fiddling around with their tools, they’re scribbling notes in their notebooks are bickering over equations scrawled across the blackboard. It may not be particularly peaceful, but it’s certainly more tame than testing out their latest idea involving the capabilities of hextech)

Because of this, your partners have a set of noise-cancelling headphones in the lab. Theyre your favorite color with little doodles in permanent marker that Viktor and Jayce once did when they hit a particular snag in their research. The headphones usually hang by the door so they’re within reach when you first enter the lab. If you ever forget them when you walk in, Jayce and Viktor remind you to grab them (usually accompanied by a little kiss on the temple if their hands aren’t full)

Additionally, Jayce and Viktor hold onto little earplugs with them. They’re always in their pockets, just in case. Your partners are very attentive and never want to be unprepared, especially when it comes to you

If there’s ever an exceptionally loud noise they always drop what they’re doing to find you. Even if they’re out in public, their priority is their partner. They’ll first make sure your ok before escorting you away from the source

If you prefer physical comfort like hugs, your partners will gladly oblige. You’ll sit in Jayce’s lap while he places kisses to the back of your head, his hands will rest on your waist, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your skin. Viktor will usually hold your face between his hands, amber eyes scanning over your figure, murmuring little endearments or encouragements to you

Never ever feel like a child or a burden because of this. These two are very supportive and happily drop everything for you. Your partners are so in love with you. They often try to improve the noise cancelling headphones for you, or find other ways to dampen loud noises. They find joy in helping you, just like you and Jayce want to find ways to make Viktor’s life with his leg easier and more enjoyable

•

[theorist-fox]

Un-evil

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

This is filthy. Short and downright filthy.

Crossposted on AO3.

>> Next

Word count: 2k

Summary: Simon f*cks you stupid. He's not sorry, and neither are you.

18+ (Can't stress this enough)

CW: smut. that's it. that's the plot. it's just PWP. it's got a little fluff at the end, but it's smut.

Masterlist 🦊 | Series Masterlist 🦊

Pain should be something evil, shouldn’t it? Yet you’re mostly positive that Simon’s hands aren’t evil – at least, not when they land on you.

But it's hard to prove your words right when he has his fingers curled into a tight fist around a handful of your hair. It's difficult, if anyone were to see, to convince them that he isn't trying to split you in half, by the way he has you curve your back in an impossible angle.

However, you’d gladly give a Ted talk about how un-evil he is being.

Naturally, the image might not seem the most innocent, so you’d have to work tirelessly to sound convincing. On all fours on the mattress of his own bedroom, with your feet dangling off the edge of the bed. Curled toes and stiff calves. Head so thrown back that your eyes are locked to the ceiling – or, well, they would be.

If they hadn’t been rolling back for the past – what? Night? What time is it, exactly?

In truth, the only thing you’re seeing is the back of your eyelids. Luckily the ceiling ain’t all that to look at.

Your throat is so tight and coiled that your breaths come out ragged and – bloody fucking hell – almost pained. And again, there is a bit of pain. A pinch of it. 

It would be a lot, with your hair being pulled and your back forced into an arch, but the pleasure is just so overwhelming you feel nothing else. The sting of your scalp and the ache of your spine only enhance what’s happening at the other end of you. 

How good he’s fucking you.

It’s deranged, honestly. 

Someone must be thinking a bleeding homicide is occurring in the Ghost’s quarters. You'd love to have more privacy, currently you’re forced to act like a prude even if he's pounding his cock right into you something fierce. 

But your neck is so thrown back that the groans coming out of you are mostly punched out by the man himself each time he thrusts in and simultaneously pulls back at your hair to slam you against himself.

On the other hand, his grunts are muffled by the fabric of his stupid balaclava. 

Before the whole ordeal started, you told him you wouldn’t fuck him if he wore that thing.

“Not even sure you wash it, L.T.” You’d said, smirking and sounding so proud of having something to mock him for – because he's always so bloody perfect on the field, isn't he.

But he’d shut your mouth spare minutes later, when he’d throw you on your back on his bed, making you feel like you weighed a pound and few spare coins. Lifted his mask up to his nose. Snatched your khakis and knickers off all at once.

And ate you out with such fervor and insistence you were almost positive you’d stopped breathing for a while during the whole meal.

Then, he’d taken off the mask, wiped his mouth with it after you’d soaked it with your orgasm, and put it back on.

“Washed it now.”

Smug cunt.

But now pride and ego and whatnot feel like fickle things, much like your aching back, burning throat, and the impending cramps in your calves.

Now, as your mind melts in a puddle of itself, almost disassociating, Simon must notice it. And oh, he doesn’t like that in the slightest. Where are you going, with your pretty little head, when all your blood should be pumping down to where he needs you warm and wet.

“Come back ‘ere,” he grunts, bending forward and pulling your head further back at the same time. He hooks one arm around your front so that he can keep you up when he notices you're all loose and flaccid.

Palm flat to your chest, he presses you flush against his own.

His eyes are hooded and heavy as they lock with yours. Your face is so flushed and sweaty you must look on the brink of collapse, and he can’t deny it has him a little worried.

“Good?” He asks gruffly, and although concerned, his onslaught on your pussy is relentless.

You smile, all teeth. Your lips have drool smeared all over. Your eyes are glossy and heavy. He's been pounding into you for the past hour, you came into his mouth once and on his cock at least twice. The sounds he's punching out of your lips are raunchy and downright pornographic.

It makes something weird and warm swim in his chest.

Fucking hell.

“Words, love.” It’s a demand, but it’s not said unkindly. He’s more than alright with the idea of fucking you stupid, but not so much with the thought of fucking you into a blackout.

And when you don’t respond and get lost in your body again, eyes rolling back once more, he harshly tugs at your hair. “Sergeant.”

Tears are prickling the corners of your eyes when you open them. However, the contrast is striking, with the wheezing moan that concomitantly leaves your lips. 

You fucking like it, don’t you? Dirty slag.

A discovery, you are. Truly.

He loves it. 

“Solid,” you stutter. Your voice is raspy and wet. "Sir."

He loves that too. 

And admittedly finds it almost humorous, how he can make you unravel like that. You came to his door that night, all commanding as if you had any right over him, saying the two of you should stop dancing around each other and get it over with. That you’re adults and that if he was going to use the regulations excuse you were going to blow a gasket because everything you lot do on the field is against the so-called rules, hence a shagwould be the least of you two’s problems.

He hadn’t even had time to rebut. You were so right it hurt his pride. So, he fucked all that arrogance out of you.

And God, did it feel good. You felt good.

You were right, after all. He won't tell you, though. Doesn't need to chub up your ego any further, it's already fighting for space with his own.

He hums at your response. Leaves the hold around your torso and you flop forward like a wet rag, face first in the sheets.

Simon grabs your hair to lift you up, delighted to hear your ecstatic laugh as your head is yanked back once again. 

He growls, “Good fuckin' girl."

And he rams into you again, using the grip on your hair as leverage. Your groans are guttural and fierce, so loud that even he is a little worried someone might eavesdrop on some of them. 

Of course, this is no time for worries and concerns, all sublimated by the scorching heat between your legs. Warmest fucking place he’s ever been in. 

‘S a lot to say, he thinks, since he’s been through hell and back already.

However, he does feel a little merciful. Sure, you’re heavenly in this position, completely at his service, but it’s been a while and you must be aching. You're going to wake up, later, with the worst back pain of your life and a few cracking joints. 

Right, not that he cares. But you’re already a pain to deal with when you’re all healthy and cracking jokes and smiling like you give two shits about him, he can’t imagine how whiny you must be when you’re knackered and it's because of him.

He bends forward, then, chest to your back, and curls his free arm around your belly. Fingers sneakily reach down and trace your pussy. Palm cupping your mons while his ring and middle finger outline your lips. For just a second, he settles at the base of his cock, feeling how the shaft plunges so easily right inside of you. The stretch of your hole sucking him in. How wet you are – Christ.

Like this, he has his mouth next to your ear, but he’s not pounding into you with the same fierceness he’s used until now. And your voice has dulled, probably because he’s relented the grip in your hair, letting your head loll forward.

He looks at you through the haze of sex, trying to push through the mist of bliss you’ve shrouded him in. And your face is different. Your eyes are wide, staring blankly ahead, lips parted to take in sharp breaths. 

He panics for a moment, but it quickly melts away when he pushes in a little deeper and you keel over with a groan. He must be hitting something new, something different. 

Something good.

Which is why he hits it again. And again. And you keen and moan, fisting the sheets and punching the mattress. 

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, look at ya.” He rumbles with a chuckle you can feel rippling in his chest against your back.

In the meantime, because he is so un-evil, the hand he had on your pussy finally finds purchase on your clit. He can feel how raw it must be. How stiff and puffy it is under the rough pads of his fingers.

Your breath hitches the moment he starts rubbing it. Doesn’t bother to be gentle with it, because he’s found out you like it when he barks and bites. 

He’s proven right because the tears that were prickling your eyes before are now flowing freely down your cheeks. Your lips tug at the corners and you wheeze, one hand of yours grasping at the forearm of the same hand giving you bliss. Cheek to the mattress.

You dig your nails into his flesh – scar-thickened skin covered in black ink. 

You’re squirming under his weight, with your arse up and back in a pretty arch, as he works you inside and out with hands and cock all the same.

The groan you let out now truly sounds as if you're in pain. Your free hand lifts to grip the fabric of his balaclava on top of his head, as if you were trying to find purchase on his hair but found cotton instead.

“Oi,” he grunts, sounding uncharacteristically worried, but doesn’t stop until you say so.

And thank Christ he doesn’t, because mere seconds later your cunt clenches so tight around him it threatens to chop his dick off. You go ramrod stiff under him. Throat tight and allowing only the passage of mewls that pitch upward. 

Three fingers swipe side to side over your clit. He pounds into you once, twice – again, again, again, until he’s pushed out of you.

“Jesus –“ 

You’re splashing on his cock, a thick stream spraying directly on his sheets. Muffled sounds of water hitting fabric. You’re so fucking silent he bets you’ve stopped breathing as you came, because not even a second later you’re catching your breath with a guttural groan that goes straight to his dick.

He’s dumbfounded and burning, but thankfully has still enough brainpower to realize he has to fuck you through it – and so he does just that. Puts it back in and lays fully above you, flattening your front to the bed. Your thighs are quivering, and your pussy is still clenching rhythmically around him. He thrusts in more and feels tinier splashes gushing out of you each time he pulls out.

Fuck, you’re so wet he barely feels any friction. 

A whine escapes you at the intrusion, but you obediently lay your cheek on the mattress, exhausted, and catch your breath, looking over your shoulder up to him. 

You’re flushed and so pretty. Looking like an angel and not like the devil that you are, who’s just squirted over his bedsheets.

You deserve a little reward for the show you put on for him because he's surely not going to forget how your cunt fluttered around nothing when it gushed on his bed. It's going to stay imprinted in his forebrain and he's going to relive it whenever his hand won't feel like enough.

He snatches the balaclava off his head and tosses it on the floor. He sees your eyes soften at the sight of the disfigured man underneath, but he won’t have any of that – this is just sex. Just fucking sex.

Before he can have his head wander to unwanted (kinder) places, he roughly grabs your jaw and keeps fucking you raw. His lips slam onto yours in a kiss that sizzles with lust and resentment – because you can’t bring feelings into this, and he will forever hate you if you dare.

“Fuckin’ pretty,” he grunts in your face, as he ruts into you, now propped on his forearms. “Think you can do tha’ again?”

You huff. Probably not.

“Depends how – fuck – good y’ are.” As if he didn’t just wring you dry. 

He chuckles darkly, and bites down your shoulder, making you hiss. “Smartarse. Don’t you dare, now.”

“Dare what, L.T.” 

Oh, you little devil. 

“Stop with the lieutenant shite.” He chides.

You snake a hand in his palm and intertwine your fingers with his. He clenches his fist to tighten the hold because he's a weak, weak man.

“What should I call you, then?” You ask through heaving breaths, “Ain’t calling you Ghost, surely.”

He leans down and kisses your cheek.

You know my name, bird.

“Fuckin’ brat.” He grunts, and surrenders. “Simon will do.”

He feels your cheek lift under the pressure of your smile, right against his lips.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Simon will do.”

[mcrdvcks]

fantasize

chapter summary: You have a crush on Logan, but you're not sure he likes you back. Why would he? You're not his type. At least that's what you thought.

word count: 2.4k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: here was the request

so i took a tad bit of creative freedom since i read a book on my kindle (that i got for christmas, one of the only good things about that day). it's a holiday romance/comedy book called 'good elf gone wrong' that you can read if you have kindle unlimited

anyways i took some inspiration from that book and applied it here, so i hope you enjoy it! and thank y'all for 900 followers!

warnings/tags: implied curvy!reader, slight angst, fluff, kinda protective!logan

The Danger Room was quieter than usual, with most of the team taking the rare free evening to relax or catch up on personal projects. Logan had been in there for a while, his gruff voice occasionally echoing out as he muttered to himself between sessions. The clang of metal on metal and the occasional snarl punctuated the stillness, but it wasn’t long before he stepped out, towel slung over his shoulder and a half-empty bottle of water in hand.

You were walking down the hall, carrying a box of supplies Hank had asked you to grab from the storage room. The box wasn’t heavy, but it was awkward, making it hard to see where you were going. You nearly bumped into Logan as he came around the corner.

“Whoa, easy there,” he said, steadying the box with one hand before it could topple.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, shifting it to your hip to get a better grip. “Hank needed these for his lab. Guess I should’ve watched where I was going.”

Logan smirked, leaning casually against the wall. “You’re always doin’ stuff for people, huh? Gotta learn to say no once in a while.”

“It’s fine,” you replied quickly. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Hmm,” Logan said, his tone somewhere between a grunt and genuine amusement. He stepped back to let you pass. “Well, don’t let McCoy bury ya in work. You’ve got your own stuff to handle too, y’know.”

You smiled faintly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Logan watched as you disappeared around the corner, his brow furrowing slightly before he shook his head and headed off toward the kitchen. He wasn’t one to meddle in other people’s lives, but something about you always made him pay a little more attention.

---

“Hey, would you mind making 50 copies of this? I need it for my class in 2 hours but I have a meeting with the Professor.” Jean said, holding a single piece of paper, some activity for her class.

Even though you were cleaning the kitchen because Scott asked you to, and you had to fix the sprinkler system since Ororo couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it, you obliged. “Yeah, sure!” you replied, taking off your gloves you were using to clean to grab the paper from Jean to put in your small tote for later.

It was later in the evening when you finally got a moment to yourself. The mansion had settled into its usual rhythm of quiet chaos, and you found yourself in the rec room, curled up on one of the oversized chairs with a book. The soft hum of conversation and distant clatter of dishes in the kitchen made the space feel alive but not overwhelming.

Logan walked in, towel around his neck and hair damp from a shower. He gave you a quick nod before heading to the fridge to grab a beer. As he twisted off the cap, he turned to you, leaning back against the counter.

“You’re always workin’, doll. Don’t you ever sit down and let someone else handle it?”

You looked up from your book, smiling faintly. “I’m sitting now, aren’t I?”

He chuckled, taking a swig of his beer before sauntering over to the chair opposite you. “Guess that counts. What’re you readin’?”

You held up the book to show the cover. “Just something light. Needed a break.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but not unkind. “You? Takin’ a break? That’s a first.”

“It happens,” you teased, marking your page and setting the book down on the armrest. “What about you? You’re always either in the Danger Room or off somewhere on your bike.”

“Gotta keep busy,” he said with a shrug. “Helps keep my head straight.”

You nodded, understanding the unspoken weight behind his words. Logan wasn’t one to open up easily, but you’d learned to read between the lines.

“Fair enough. I guess we’re both bad at just sitting still,” you said.

He smirked. “Yeah, but at least I don’t let people walk all over me while I’m at it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Here we go.”

“I’m just sayin’, sweetheart. You’ve got a good heart, but it’s okay to say no once in a while.” His tone was softer this time, less teasing and more genuine.

You looked down, fiddling with the edge of your book. “I don’t mind helping. Besides, it’s not like I’ve got anything else pressing to do.”

Logan leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he looked at you. “That’s not the point. You deserve time for yourself, too. Don’t let these jokers make you forget that.”

You smiled, a warmth blooming in your chest at his concern. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You better,” he said, leaning back again and taking another sip of his beer. “‘Cause if I catch you runnin’ yourself ragged again, I might just have to step in.”

“Oh, really? And what would that look like?” you asked, amused.

“Let’s just say it’d involve you sittin’ in that chair for more than five minutes without someone askin’ you to fix somethin’.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Alright, deal. But only if you promise to do the same.”

He raised his beer in a mock toast. “Deal, doll.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in companionable silence, the noise of the mansion fading into the background. Logan’s presence was steady, grounding in a way you hadn’t quite expected when you first met him. It wasn’t hard to see why you’d grown to like him so much—even if he didn’t realize it.

As you picked up your book again, you caught him watching you out of the corner of your eye. When your eyes met, he just smirked and shook his head, muttering something under his breath before finishing his beer and heading out. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, the moment lingering long after he was gone.

---

You and Ororo were making dinner, her stirring food on the stove while you cut up chicken at the counter. The kitchen smelled warm and inviting, the quiet hum of activity making it a relaxing space to chat.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Logan lately,” Ororo said, her tone light but curious.

You paused mid-slice, glancing at her with a small smile. “He’s been around, yeah. We just… talk sometimes.”

“Mmhmm,” she replied, stirring the pot without looking at you. “And you don’t think that means something?”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “No, Ro. Logan talks to everyone—well, kind of. It’s not like I’m special or anything.”

She turned to look at you, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? Because the way he looks at you sometimes…”

“What way?” you asked, feeling a warmth creep into your cheeks.

Ororo set down her spoon and crossed her arms, leaning back against the counter. “Like you’re the only person in the room. Like he actually wants to be around you—which, let’s be honest, is rare for Logan.”

You snorted, trying to brush off the comment. “He’s just… nice to me, that’s all. He probably feels sorry for me because I’m always running around doing things for everyone.”

“Nice? Logan?” Ororo gave you a pointed look. “That man growls at people for breathing wrong. He’s not just ‘nice.’”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. Could she be right? You’d always thought Logan’s kindness was just him looking out for you the way he did for everyone on the team, even if it seemed a little… different sometimes.

“Even if you’re right,” you said finally, “I don’t think he thinks about me like that. I’m not exactly his type.”

Ororo frowned, clearly unimpressed. “And what makes you think you’re not his type?”

You gestured to yourself vaguely. “Come on, ‘Ro. He’s this tough, no-nonsense guy, and I’m—”

“Amazing,” Ororo interrupted firmly. “You’re amazing. And if Logan doesn’t see that, then he’s a fool. But from where I’m standing, it seems like he does.”

You sighed, setting down the knife and leaning your elbows on the counter. “I don’t know. I just… I don’t want to make things awkward, you know? If I say something and I’m wrong, it could mess everything up.”

Ororo placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I get it. But sometimes, you’ve got to take a leap of faith. You deserve to be happy, and if Logan makes you happy, it’s worth the risk.”

Unbeknownst to either of you, Logan had wandered into the hall just in time to catch the tail end of the conversation. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his brow furrowed as he listened.

“I’ll think about it,” you said softly, returning to the chicken.

“You do that,” Ororo said with a knowing smile, turning back to the stove.

Logan cleared his throat as he stepped into the kitchen, startling both of you. “Smells good in here.”

“Oh!” You nearly dropped the knife, your heart racing. “Hey, Logan. Didn’t hear you come in.”

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on ya,” he said, his tone casual. His eyes lingered on you for a moment before flicking to Ororo. “You got room for one more?”

Ororo smirked, glancing between you and Logan. “Always. But only if you’re willing to set the table.”

Logan chuckled. “Fair enough.” He grabbed some plates from the cupboard, his movements unhurried but purposeful.

You tried to focus on the chicken, but your hands felt clumsier than usual under his gaze. Ororo shot you a sly look before turning her attention back to dinner, leaving you and Logan to fall into an easy, if slightly charged, silence.

---

Logan, for the first time in a long time, was clueless about what to do. He almost felt like a teenager, walking around with a secret—perhaps not-so-secret—crush.

To make matters worse, in the following days when he thought he had gathered himself to tell you how he felt, you flashed him a smile and all his previous thoughts went out the window. Logan found himself retreating to the Danger Room more often, grumbling under his breath about how he wasn’t built for this kind of thing.

One evening, after a particularly long day of running errands and fixing half the mansion’s quirks, you were in the rec room folding towels that had piled up in the laundry. Logan walked in, pausing in the doorway when he saw you. He frowned, his grip tightening around the beer in his hand.

“You’re kiddin’ me. Again?”

You looked up, startled. “What?”

“That,” he said, gesturing to the stack of towels. “You’re always doin’ somethin’ for everyone else.”

“It’s not a big deal,” you said, shrugging. “It needed to get done.”

Logan let out a low growl of frustration and set his beer down on the coffee table. He crossed the room in a few strides and grabbed the towel you were folding out of your hands, tossing it onto the pile. “Enough.”

“Logan, what are you doing?” you asked, startled.

“Savin’ you from yourself,” he replied, his tone firm but not unkind. “Sit.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sudden intensity. “What?”

“I said sit, doll,” he repeated, pointing to the couch. “You’re takin’ a break whether you like it or not.”

Reluctantly, you sank onto the couch, watching as he grabbed a towel and started folding it himself. “You don’t have to do that,” you said.

“Yeah, well, neither do you,” he shot back, not looking at you.

You crossed your arms, feeling both touched and mildly annoyed. “I don’t see what the big deal is. I like helping.”

“You like helpin’ so much you forget to take care of yourself,” he muttered, finishing one towel and moving onto the next.

“That’s not true,” you protested.

Logan finally looked at you, his hazel eyes piercing. “Yeah, it is. You’re runnin’ yourself into the ground, sweetheart. And for what? So McCoy doesn’t have to walk ten feet to grab his own damn supplies?”

You opened your mouth to argue but stopped. He wasn’t entirely wrong. “It’s just… easier to say yes than to make a fuss,” you admitted.

“Easier for them,” he countered. “Not for you.”

You sighed, sinking further into the couch. “Why do you care so much?”

Logan’s hands stilled, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. Then he set the towel down and turned to face you fully, his expression unreadable. “Because I like you, that’s why.”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less firm. “I like you. And it drives me nuts watchin’ you run yourself ragged for people who don’t appreciate it.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. “Logan…”

“Look, I ain’t good at this kinda thing,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “But I know what I feel. And what I feel is that you deserve better than this.”

You felt a warmth rise in your chest, a mix of disbelief and something else—hope. “I didn’t think… I mean, I thought you just saw me as some pushover,” you admitted.

He snorted. “A pushover? Nah. You’re tougher than you give yourself credit for. But that doesn’t mean you gotta carry everyone else’s weight all the time.”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. Logan took a step closer, crouching down in front of you so you were eye level. “You don’t gotta say anything, doll. Just… promise me you’ll start puttin’ yourself first for once.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll try.”

He gave you a small smile, one that made your heart flutter. “Good.”

Before you could overthink it, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Logan froze, his eyes widening slightly as he looked at you. “What was that for?”

You shrugged, feeling bold for the first time. “For caring.”

A slow grin spread across his face, and before you knew it, he was leaning in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he kissed you—gentle at first, then deeper, more sure. When he finally pulled back, you were both breathless.

“That… was overdue,” he said, his voice low and a little rough.

You laughed softly. “Yeah, maybe a little.”

Logan smirked, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Guess I’ll have to stick around more. Make sure you’re takin’ those breaks.”

“Oh, is that what this is about?” you teased.

“Part of it,” he said with a wink. “The other part… well, we’ll figure it out.”

And for once, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you deserved to be taken care of too.

[kerokeeces]

ENHYPEN SFW hyung line fanfic recs!

who am I? im just silent reader who enjoys fics and want to help others find some of my favorites! srry im hee + hoon biased so most are about them

short fic - 1-5k words long fic - 5k+

HYUNG LINE

the look of love by @won4kiss - (how they look at you when they’re blinded by their love) - short fic

low power mode by @sungbeams - (when you get overwhelmed while you're out together) - text msgs

just a bet by @all4yoi - (after a few months of dating, you find out you were just a bet.) - short fic

HEESEUNG

sing me a song by @senascoop - (when you can't fall asleep and heeseung tries to help by singing you a song) - short fic

race to your heart by @coqhee - (lee heeseung who's always been a pro at racing takes on a change of pacing ; racing for your heart.) - long fic

uh oh im falling in love by @won4kiss - (you and heeseung have been rivals for as long as you could remember, constantly competing for the top spot in school—basically everything. living next door to each other only added to the fire, the tension between you, especially when heeseung’s cocky aura never seems to waver. but one single encounter shifts the entire dynamic, leading to confusing emotions arising, jealousy, and new surprising revelations. what happens when rivalry starts to feel like it’s growing into something more?) long fic

a stoner's guide to starbucks by @jayflrt - (in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he’s stoned off his ass.) - smau series

she knows her sour patch kids by @allforhee - (living under the protective eyes of your older brother, park sunghoon, he thinks he knows you the best. but litte does he know that heeseung knows you love your sour patch kids more than you love his usual swedish fish.) - short fic

win one win me by @jaylver - (who knew being angry and impulsive can get the captain of the hockey team to notice you? cussing them out when they were losing wasn't the best idea, but it definitely made lee heeseung's head turn, leading to him making a deal with you to win a game in order to get your number. but that wasn't enough for him, he was determined to make you his.) - long fic

from screens to scenes by @enreveriee - (you decide to give online dating a shot but have never met your boyfriend in person, nor do you even know what he looks like. when your friends pressure you into finally asking him out for a real-life date, things take a surprising turn. what you expected to be a simple meetup becomes an adventure filled with unexpected twists.) - long fic

taste of life by @mygnolia - (heeseung is invisible to everyone, robbed of recognition as people pass through and never acknowledge him. to live as a shadow who observes is hard—heeseung sinks into corners and simply wishes for a chance to be a part of something. but when you finally come to the biggest halloween party of the year and see him, he can’t help but be attached.) - short fic

bring the heat by @kairoot - (y/n has always disliked heeseung, the arrogant rising star of the racing scene. she especially dislikes him when he beats her brother in the city’s street racing round and takes it upon herself to do a rematch and race him. but when she gets herself stuck in a predicament, her enemy is the only one who can save her. maybe there’s more to heeseung than just his big ego.) - short fic

bjoux by @okikeu - (The fashion industry is difficult, so when the CEO of Korea's finest, luxury fashion brand, Le Désir, loses the most important ambassador of her career, her life is pretty much over. That is, until she finds a face that makes her previous fumble look like a simple marketing scheme.) - smau series

cliches are okay by @chogiwow - short fic

JAY

how you get the girl by @jaylver - (Beach parties are supposedly fun and exciting, aren’t they? Wrong. Experiencing college parties is rare for you, but you decided to give this one a go after your best friend’s constant pleas. Things were alright until everything turned sour when trouble found you and eventually you were roped into a fight alongside the campus’ famous hockey playboy. As if that wasn’t enough, the devil himself conjured up an idea that you found yourself being entangled in. It was all fun and games up until confusion arose, feelings being confessed and played, in the end, Jay had to learn how to get the girl, his girl.) - long fic

white corvette and lipstick by @okwonyo - (waiting for the cab with your boyfriend in the night.) - short fic

pictures enhypen send you of bf!jay by @ddksoo - fake texts

fast forward by @asahicore - (After yet another romantic disappointment in the form of one Jake Sim, you go to the well you’ve always believed to grant wishes and ask for your one and true love to appear. That night, you go to sleep in your bed but wake up in a strange house. When you head downstairs, you find a man washing the dishes and telling you your favorite meal is waiting on the table for you. You’ve spent hours glaring at the back of that head, you could recognize it anywhere—it belongs to none other than Park Jongseong, your high school sworn enemy… and future husband, or so it seems.) - long fic

JAKE

bed chem by @cupidhoons - (your friend sets you up with a cute aussie boy at her party) - short fic

texts with bestfriend!jake by @silquids - text msgs

found you by @whjluv - (jake is very well known and loved by everybody on campus. equally popular was his relationship with the captain of the volleyball team, haneul. even more popular, sadly, is his breakup after more than a year. the months following the event take a significant toll on jake, who becomes unrecognizable. his once sweet, friendly and pure nature is replaced by a constant gloomy and somber aura. what happens when this new version of jake sim unexpectedly clashes with a very straightforward and quite intimidating member of the school’s podcast?) - long fic

SUNGHOON

deep honey by @paarksunghoon - (the last thing you want to do is interrupt sunghoon’s time with his friends, but your doting boyfriend has always said he’ll be there whenever you need him. when a shift at work leaves you hanging by a thread, he and his friends are there to patch your soul back up.) - short fic

cafeteria confessions by @reinahwanggg - (everyone thinks you're dating your childhood best friend sunghoon. well, everyone including sunghoon because he confessed to you almost a year ago and you didn't exactly know it was a confession because of how casually he said it.) - short fic

sunghoon with a crush on you by @woniecore - smau

get well soon by @senascoop - (You’ve always considered yourself a good person—kind, forgiving, and patient. But Sunghoon tested every bit of that. One reckless, drunken drive was all it took for him to flip your life upside down, leaving you temporarily confined to a wheelchair. The inconvenience was more than just physical; it was a wound to your pride and independence. Sunghoon, however, refused to walk away from his mistake. Guilt-ridden and determined to make amends, he became a constant presence in your life—covering your medical bills, offering you emotional support, and sticking around even when you wished he wouldn’t.) - long fic

love on air by @pshbites - (two podcast groups, both equally popular on the internet, start interacting with one another. however it isnt how fans want it to be.. OR yn sees sunghoon hating on lauryn hill and accidentally starts an entire fanwar with him.) - smau series

the 24-hour dating challenge by @jaeyunverse - (being a famous youtuber isn’t easy, especially when you have to constantly come up with new ideas to keep your audience entertained. and this time, your viewers want you to date park sunghoon, your best friend of nearly a decade, for the entirety of 24 hours.) - long fic

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 7

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love. 

CW: 18+ MDNI. In order to avoid spoilers, all tags are under the cut in small red lettering. Reader does have some body descriptions so more of an oc than female reader.

AN: I am not the least bit sorry for the ending 😉

Word Count: 8k

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist | AO3

TW: open door smut scenes, unprotected P in V. Cream pie. Squirting. Use of nipple clamps. Oral (female receiving). Fingering (anal and vaginal). Ass play. Use of nicknames (good girl, sweet girl). Pussy and dick pronouns. Joel having a filthy mouth.

You

Holy shit, I just fucked Joel Miller. 

The thought rattles around your brain over and over, as if the more you say the more real it will feel, but you’re still floating, still up in the clouds even though you’re firmly tucked against Joel's side. Your head rests in his chest, rising and falling with the quick rhythm of this breathing. Your eyes flick down to his beautiful cock; it’s standing straight up, ready whenever you are, as you both try to slow your heartbeats and breathing. You nestle your body tighter to the warm, solid wall of a man beside you, wrapping a leg around his. He slides his fingers up and down your spine. As you lay in silence your mind races. 

“Just call me Joel”. 

There are almost too many things bouncing around your head, making it hard to focus on only one. Does he love me? When I tell him what I've decided with college, will he think I’m staying in Austin because of this? Aren’t I staying in Austin because of this? How else do I explain it? What about my friends? I don’t want to keep this a secret anymore; is this worth losing my job over? What if this is all part of his plan? Sleep with me and then use it as a reason to end our dom/sub relationship? Is this even a dom/sub relationship anymore? 

Anxiety and worry start to buzz through your veins. The sight of soft belly and rock hard cock blurs. You slam your eyes shut, the unknown starting to overwhelm you. Sucking in a big breath, you try to break the vice grip that’s starting to tighten around on your lungs and throat. 

“Are you ok?” Joel says softly. 

“Ya,” you nod as his free hand that's been tucked under his head comes to your chin and tilts it up. The moment you’re engulfed by his soft chocolate brown eyes, your brain stops. Quiet washes over you. You’re safe here, you’ve always been safe here. Rolling over, you perch yourself on his leg and hip, chin resting on the tops of your hands as they lay on his chest. You can feel his heart beating strong and steady under your hands. That’s what you need: consistent stability. No, not need, deserve.

Joel removes the golden clip from your hair. “Freckles, I probably should have said this before, but this isn’t what I normally do with my subs, and I’m…”

His eyes dance around yours as he pauses. You can see a million emotions happening at once, all of them mirrored in yours. Fear. Happiness. Confusion. Anxiety. Vulnerability. But mostly, love. You finish the sentence for him.

“I’m pretty sure we aren’t just a dom and a sub, Joel. I don’t know if we ever have been.”

I love you.

 With that, he pulls himself up, stuffing some pillows so he can lean comfortably against the headboard. You follow, and he guides you to straddle his lap, his cock pressed between your bodies. The air between you feels thick with emotion. Both of you look at the other, your shallow breaths in sync before both of you snap and dive in. The kiss is hungry and desperate. There’s probably a million things you both could say, but in this moment, the kiss is enough. 

“I’m never going to get enough of you,” he moans as your lips trail his jawline. 

“Good,” you hum, sliding your hips up to drag your pussy along his length. You’ve slept with a handful of men before Joel, but it’s never been this passionate with anyone else. You just had each other, yet here you both are, acting like it’s been years since you’ve touched. His head falls back, a sigh passing his parted lips as you kiss down his neck. 

“Fuck that feels good, sweet girl.” His hands tighten along your hips. Joel is always so concerned with your pleasure and needs, so for now, or for as long as he’ll let you, you spend time focusing on him. You kiss every inch of him that you can reach: his neck and shoulders, his collarbone and ear lobes, all while softly grinding against his cock. Every moan and gasp from his lips has you growing wetter. 

You drag your slippery pussy up his cock, both of you completely coated in your arousal. Joel lifts you to hover above his cock. “Need to feel you wrapped around me again. Please, sweet girl.”

You capture the sound of him begging with your lips, snake a hand in between your bodies, and guide the tip of his bare cock inside of yourself. You shudder and whimper at the delicious stretch of him. “Oh god.”

“This pussy,” he coos, and the sound of his weakness at the feel of you has the muscles behind your navel tightening. Your lips find his again as you slowly work yourself down his cock. “That’s my girl, nice and slow.”

You rock and grind, sliding him in further, your body writhing as you take inch by tortuous inch. As your hips finally come into contact with his, you still your movements and relax into the feeling of him at this new angle. Joel is definitely big, not in a scary romance novel kind of way, but bigger and thicker than you’ve been with. “Joel,” you mew, the vowels of his name lasting longer than they should and you tuck your head into his neck. 

“It’s all you, baby girl. Just sit on him if you need to, fuck.” He kisses your shoulder, hands moving to the globes of your ass. “Tell me how it feels.”

“F-full,” you whine into his skin. 

“What else, my sweet girl?”

“You’re so big, J-Joel. I can feel you everywhere. I - I need, oh my god.” You grind your hips forward slightly, the cool metal of his piercing sending a shockwave through your clit and up your spine. “More. I need more.”

“Just take it, baby. I’m yours.” He rasps between kisses along your shoulder and neck. 

You pull back, your face mere inches from him. He’s everywhere all at once and the painful stretch of your cunt around his cock starts to become an intense burning pleasure with each flick of your hips. 

“Suck on my nipples,” you gasp, leaning back slightly. The shiny silver ring in his pelvis presses harder against your clit, and now, not only are you madly in love with Joel Miller, you’re also so fucking addicted that not even a twelve step program could fix you. 

He obeys your wishes, sucking your right nipple into his warm mouth roughly and swirling his tongue as your hips grind back and forth once, twice, three times. He moans against your skin, moving his hands up your body to cup both your breasts. “Harder, please Joel, harder.”

Your movements become less fluid; your clit aches with every brush against his piercing. The muscles behind your navel start to feel like they’re going to snap. He moves to the other nipple, meeting it with his teeth, but it’s still not enough.

“Harder,” you beg.

“Do you need clamps, baby?” Of course this man would know what you need; he’s never not known what you need. 

“Yes, god yes. I need more.”

“Can you reach the top drawer of the nightstand?” You nod, then push his sweaty curls away from his forehead. He raises an eyebrow and you reach into the drawer, pulling out a small set of gold nipple clamps. “Good girl. Now, can you reach my hat at the end of the bed?”

You press your lips into a thin line to stop your smile and nod excitedly. He winks and you turn your upper body the other way and stretch to reach his hat. As soon as you place it on his head you feel the sharp pressure of the clamp on your left nipple. The pain heightens the feeling of him inside of you and a high pitched whine leaves your throat. 

“Fuck, please, Joel. Please.”

As he places the second clamp he says, “You don’t even know what you’re begging for, do you?” 

A mix between a whimper and a whine passes your lips in response and your lashes flutter shut. “That’s what I thought. Just as long as I keep myself deep in this tight little pussy, you’ll be happy. Won’t you?”

The second clamp evens out the pain and sends a wave of adrenaline through your system. You pick up the speed of your hips. His piercing bumps against your clit, the pleasure coursing through your veins mixed with the burning pinch on your nipples is almost all the ingredients you need to fall over the edge. 

“You’re doing so well for me, sweet girl. Wish you could see how good you look right now.” Joel moves his hands back to your ass, pulling you forward in time with the pace you’ve set. 

“I love - Joel, oh my god.” You want to tell him how much you love the feeling of him inside of you, how much you love the words he says and the praise he gives, but you aren’t capable of forming sentences with the way his piercing teases at your clit. All you can do is let your forehead fall to his shoulder, your eyes squeezing tighter. 

“Love what, huh?” He whispers deeply into your ear. “The feeling of my bare cock so deep inside of you that you can feel it in your stomach? Or the way my piercing feels against your swollen clit? Or maybe you love the pain of the clamps on your nipples as you ride me? Huh? Is that what you love, baby?” You make a gasping whining sound of agreement.

“Look at me,” he adds. It takes all of your strength to sit back up and open your eyes. When he comes into focus you’re overcome with desire. He’s so much more than you could ever imagine in his new black cowboy hat, pupils blown wide with passion, and cheeks flushed a light pink. “Good girl, keep your eyes on me. I want to see it in your eyes when you come on my cock.”

 Your hips slow, but you push your clit harder against his pelvis, and you blurt the first thought you have. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Joel.”

A smile tug of his cheek reveals the boyish dimple you love so much. You slide your hands from his shoulders to the short hair at the nape of his neck. You’re close, so very close. “Come with me, I’m so close,” you whimper.

“I know, Freckles. Fuck, I can feel it.” He doesn’t take his eyes off yours, but the flex of his jaw tells you he’s holding back for you. “Squeezin’ me so tight. Fuck, can feel her fluttering, listen to how wet you are.” 

You reach back and grab his wrist, squeezing it gently, “Spank me.”

“Christ, sweet girl.” 

You release his wrist, and without looking away he spanks you hard and you are launched into your orgasm. His face lights up with admiration as you chant a mixture of his name and ‘oh god’. You grind frantically into his piercing, your clit practically vibrating at the attention. 

“That’s it baby. Good, fuck, I’m gonna, good girl. Don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop.” He slaps your ass again and that same familiar pooling of liquid starts to build. 

“More,” you cry and he spanks you again. 

You feel the gush of your cum, and Joel takes over as you’re consumed by pleasure. His strong hands grip your hips, moving you at a slower pace. “There she goes, such a messy little pussy.”

You peel your eyes away from him, looking down at the way his piercing presses against your clit when your bodies meet. “Fill me,” you moan.

“Fuck - oh fuck, sweet girl.” Your orgasm starts to fade and you tug at the hair you can reach.

“Fill me, Joel. I want to feel you leaking out of me for days.” You aren’t sure where this version of yourself has come from. Just weeks ago you wandered around JMKink all wide-eyed and nervous, and now you’re saying words that you never thought you could. 

Joel lets out a mix between a growl and a moan and you feel his cock harden before it jerks inside of you, hot ropes of his cum filling you like you asked. He moans your name, stilling your hips in his hands as his orgasm washes over him. “God, you feel so good.”

The two of you gasp for breath, your head falls back and you close your eyes, trying to slow your heart beat. Joel removes the nipple clamps and you cry out just as he places light kisses along them. “Ouch,” you whimper. 

“I know,” he says, moving to kiss the other one. “Taking them off is the worst part. I’m sorry, sweet girl.”

When he pulls back to look at you again your body goes limp and you fall into his chest, head tucked into the crook of his neck. “Need a minute,” you murmur.

He pulls the blanket from the other side of the bed and wraps it around the two of you. “Good, because I’m not ready to let you go yet.” His lips caress your hairline softly, one hand on your back under the blanket, the other playing with your hair.

I love you.

After a few moments of blissfully content silence you wince at the pinch in your hip. “I gotta get up, I’m sorry.”

He laughs gently into your hair, and pulls back the blanket before helping you slide off his softened cock. You both look at the mess you’ve made on his lap and you let out a mischievous giggle. 

“Don’t even think about it, Freckles. I need nourishment before you take advantage of me again.” He says jokingly.

“Well, I guess this is what I get for fucking around with an old man,” you laugh, flopping down on the bed beside him. 

Joel moves quickly, slipping two thick fingers inside of you easily and you squirm at the feeling. You suck in a huge breath, like you’re about to swim to the bottom of a deep pool. Tears start to burn behind your eyes as overstimulation makes it almost impossible to breathe, nevermind being able to tell him to stop. 

His voice is a gravel filled growl, “That right, little girl? Because from what I can tell, you’re about to beg me to stop, so be careful who you call old.”

Heat flushes your skin, pleasure building, yet when your tired pussy flutters around his strong digits a loud, pained cry fills the room. You’re not willing to admit defeat as you force your lungs to suck in a breath. 

“I’m not.” 

“No?” He pumps his fingers harder against your sensitive g-spot. “Don’t wanna use that safe word?” 

Can’t. Fuck, I might actually die if I come again again. You never imagined yourself debating if you wanted another orgasm. A cold sweat coats your lower back as you arch off the bed, a sob leaving your throat. 

“How’s that feel? Wanna come again?” 

You shake your head and moan in disagreement. 

“You sure? She wants to, I can feel it.” He pumps his fingers forward again. 

“M-mister Miller. No.” As you swallow down the scream that’s inching its way up from your lungs he watches your throat like a starved wolf. 

“Safeword,” he commands. 

“Steg-“ you don’t even say the full word and he’s slipping his fingers out of you with a lewd squelching sound. “Thank you.” 

“Are you okay?” He says softly, his dom mask gone as his eyebrows knit in concern. 

“Yes,” you say with a quiet laugh. “I was close to coming again, but….”

He gives you a thigh lipped smile, “Sore?” 

You nod as he continues, “Food, then shower, then we can come back here,” he says deeply before he slips his two fingers in his mouth, cleaning off the mixture of the two of you. 

I fucking love you, Joel Miller. 

Joel 

The small crack of light in the curtains wakes him. His alarm clock shows 7:18 am; he can’t remember the last time he slept past six am, but he also can’t remember the last time he stayed up until two in the morning. He rolls slowly, careful not to disturb you in the cocoon of blankets you’ve created in the night. The top of your head and one foot is the only thing visible, your slow, quiet breathing filling the room. 

So fucking cute.

He pulls on a pair of black pajama pants and adjusts the curtains to keep the room dark before slipping downstairs. The morning sun reflects off the gold in the marble, basking his kitchen in warm fire light. His eyes glance around the kitchen, a dirty frying pan sits in the sink from the grilled cheese sandwiches he made you both last night, the kitchen stool still pulled out from where you sat. A smile pulls at his cheeks, his cock stirring as he remembers the rest of the evening. 

The two of you ate your sandwiches; all you had on was one of his t-shirts, and he was wearing the pants he’s in now. After you both finished eating, he grunted as he came over to help you off the stool. You made another joke about him being old. Slipping in and out of dom mode is almost too easy around you. Without missing a beat, he made you clean the cum that had leaked out of you off the stool with your tongue, then spanked you until more cum dripped down your legs and onto the floor. He didn’t even have to tell you what to do, all he did was glance at the floor then at you with a raised brow. His sweet girl got down on her hands and knees and cleaned up. He praised you the entire time and then took you upstairs to shower; not that it did much good, because he fucked you from behind the moment the two of you got back into his bed. Joel hasn’t fucked someone back-to-back like that in years, but you have him feeling like he’s in his twenties again. 

He pulls the jar of imported coffee beans from the cupboard and grinds them, reflecting upon how easy it was to just sit with you. As you ate, you both laughed and joked about whatever came to mind. He made fun of you for asking for ketchup to dip your sandwich in, then you poked fun back by eating the sandwich with one pinky up once you realized it wasn’t just processed bread and cheese. 

As he tamps the freshly ground beans into the basket he realizes just how lonely he has been. He’s always been surrounded by people and enjoyed coming home to his quiet solitude of a house, but now? He smiles sadly to himself. This is really going to hurt.

He places the basket in the machine and as it brews he gets your beans in the grinder and then grabs the milk to steam and froth. He adds the milk to his cup and then starts on yours just as he hears a very soft ‘Good Morning’ from behind him. 

He looks over his shoulder as you wrap your arms around his middle, placing a kiss on his bare spine. It shoots right to his heart and he holds it there, desperate to keep this love he’s feeling, love he knows is on a timeline. 

“Good morning, sweet girl. Coffee?”

“Mmm, yes please.”

He rubs at your arms around his stomach. “How does bacon and eggs sound?”

The soft warmth of your cheek rests on his back as he steams your milk, your espresso almost done. “You actually use the kitchen?”

“Used it last night, didn’t I?”

“Yea,” you reply, “but I’ve never seen you have actual food in your fridge. Cleaning it is always on your list, but aside from milk there’s never been anything in it.”

“That’s not entirely true,” he says. 

“You’re right, once there was just a single long stemmed red rose.” The rose he got you for your birthday. 

“So you’re saying you don’t want surprise long stemmed roses?”

You gasp dramatically behind him and then wiggle under his arm. He laughs, adjusting his grip on the milk and coffee cup to pour the milk just right, creating a heart on the top of your latte and then holding it in front of you. He watches the little smile that curves your lips. “Thank you, Joel.”

He kisses your forehead before you both part. His eyes trail from your face, down your body that’s draped in one of his black t-shirts brushing the top of your bare thighs. “Breakfast?”

You nod, wrapping both your hands around your coffee cup and inhaling. “What can I do to help?”

“Nothing. Get that cute little ass on one of those stools,” he spins you and pats at your butt gently, a giggle escaping your throat as you wander around the island to sit. 

Joel gathers what he needs for breakfast, and after a few heartbeats you break the silence. “Can I ask you a question?”

He glances over at you, “We’ve been through this. You don’t need to ask permission, just ask.”

“Well, it’s about the hat.”

“Ah,” he says softly, starting one of the gas burners to heat the cast iron pan for the bacon. “You can ask anything you’d like, baby.”

“I just wasn’t expecting that sort of reaction.”

“That’s not a question,” he says jokingly. 

You let out an amused sound that’s part giggle, part snort. “What’s the history behind the black cowboy hat?” 

He clears his throat, moving around the kitchen the entire time he speaks. “I grew up on a small ranch outside of Austin. My grandparents’ ranch. Me and Tommy lived there with our mom. My grandma gave us both our first cowboy hats; mine was a black Stetson with a black satin liner. I wore that hat all the time. It brought me comfort for whatever reason, or maybe it was confidence in those awkward adolescent years. Whatever it was, it sort of became a part of who I was as a teenager. One night, in my senior year, after winning our baseball state championship I went to a party, with my hat on, of course…that’s, umm, that’s where I met her.”

He watches you take a sip of your coffee, eyes soft. “Tiffany, my…my wife. That’s where I met her. My grandpa always said that I’d feel a tug, like a pull behind my belly button, and it did. When I went to talk to her she took my hat and put it on her head and…I just knew. That hat, well, I wore it for her from then on.”

“Where’s the hat now?” You say, looking shyly up at him. 

He turns back the stove, swallowing the dry lump in his throat and flips the bacon before cracking the eggs in the second pan. His voice is low. “When she passed away it just felt right to send the hat with her. I couldn’t let her go alone.” 

The eggs sizzle as he flips them. “How old were you when that happened?” 

“Young,” he says, then looks back over at you. “About twenty three or twenty four.” 

He scoops two eggs and a few pieces of bacon on each plate and then walks around to the stool beside you. “I’m sorry that happened, Joel.” 

He places a light kiss on your forehead, sliding the plate in front of you. “Me too, baby. Thank you.” 

Joel sits on the stool next to yours but that still isn’t close enough for him. He grabs the leg of your stool and pulls you tight to his side. The moment your shoulder makes contact with his arm he feels more at ease. Talking about Tiffany isn’t so painful anymore. 

“So it’s just been you and your daughter since then? You didn’t want to remarry?” He watched the way your lips purse to blow on your fork full of eggs before he answers. 

“I wasn’t opposed to remarrying. Sarah used to try to set me up with her friends' moms when she was kid. But, I never felt that pull like I did with Tiff. I focused all of my time on Sarah and building my construction firm.“

It feels almost too comfortable to talk to you as he continues between bites. “I just kept waiting for that pull again. Then my career took off; I went from building homes to mansions, and then eventually apartment complexes. I didn’t have time to even look for a partner.” 

“Is that when you got into BDSM?” You ask, nibbling on your bacon. 

“Ya, I met Cap…”

“Cap?” You interrupt, looking at him with wide eyes. “Like the sweet man with the grey hair and kind blue eyes who drives me around?” 

“Yes, same Cap. He taught me almost everything about being a Dom.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “He’s so soft and kind.” 

“Am I not soft and kind?” He says, placing a hand on his chest. You press a kiss to his cheek and he raises an eyebrow at you. “As I was saying, I met Cap through one of the trades we hired to run cable through a large apartment building. Spent a lot of hours with him and he eventually brought up how being a dom might be a good option for me and wouldn’t risk Sarah getting hurt through a break up.” 

“Sarah is older than me, isn’t she?” You put your fork down and look up at him with concern. 

He nods, “She is. Not by much, but she is. However, I recently learned that I was the campus DILF while she was in university.” 

You snort a laugh beside him. 

“She just wants me to be happy. I don’t know what I did right with that kid. She’s a doctor and just got accepted to a surgery fellowship in New York.” 

As he finishes his last few bites, your soft, warm palm traces up and down his bare back slowly. “I’m sure you were, or are, an amazing dad.” 

He smiles over at you as reality slams into him. You’re younger than his daughter. You’re going to want things that he’s already done and is too old to do again. And quite frankly, he doesn’t want to do it again. Biologically he cannot have any more kids, and he’s not looking to adopt. He’s done that part of his life.  

One of his hands wraps around the back of your neck and his mind races as he lowers his face to yours. He’s sure you’re going to go to Berkeley, which will break his heart, but also means he can keep that pesky little secret he’s been keeping from you hidden. You finding out about that will ruin him.

You

Something shifts in Joel’s eyes before he kisses you, his tongue swiping against your lips, asking to let him in. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss, as the urge to show him just how much you need him takes over. You spin your body towards him, kissing him back at the pace he’s set. You could sit like this for hours, your lips fused to his, his tongue flicking sweetly against yours. Your hands roam along the muscle-lined skin of his arms, pressing your lips happily to his without any plans to break the kiss first.

After a few minutes, Joel pulls back, cupping your chin, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. “Speaking of university,” he prompts. 

You take a slow deep breath in through your nose, trying to keep your face a neutral mask as all of your thoughts around school and Joel scream in your mind. He squeezes your hand reassuringly, “Come with me.” 

As he leads you towards the stairs to the basement you say, “We should clean up.” 

“Nah,” he starts leading you down the stairs, his voice light, “I have a cleaner coming this week.” 

You jokingly hit his shoulder with a laugh as he walks down the stairs in front of you. The two of you settle into the plush couch. You cozy up into the corner of the sectional, him beside you. He pulls your feet onto his lap and then flips a blanket from the back of the couch over you. 

“It’s gonna be Berkeley, right?” Joel’s voice is excited and curious, not disappointed. For a second you think he might not care in the way you think he does, until your eyes meet his. His eyes tell a whole damn story right now, more honey flecks than onyx shine your direction. They seem sad almost, or longing.  

“Maybe. That was sort of my dream school but I don’t know anymore.” 

His thumbs press into the arches of your feet and after wearing those ridiculous heels last night it feels delicious. “Your phone screen, which, by the way, I’m getting you a new phone. That screen is a hazard, and don’t bother arguing with me. But your Lock Screen is the beach.” 

“I know,” you look down at your hands, picking at the pearly white polish. 

“I want you to follow your dreams, sweet girl.” 

“But that’s the thing, Joel. Becoming a lawyer is the dream. Either way, I will graduate as a lawyer, so…” The words die on your tongue and hang heavy between the two of you.

“Don’t pick based on me.” He says softly. 

You scoff, immediately annoyed by his ego. Is that really what he thinks of you? That some man would come along and change everything you had planned. Didn’t he though? 

You pull your feet from his lap, bending your knees up as if you’re building a wall between the two of you. “I’m not. I’m a grown woman who can, and does, make decisions for herself.” 

“So then what’s the reason for giving up what was always your dream school for a law school here?” 

You feel sick to your stomach. His singing last night, that wasn’t a proclamation of love to you. He was just singing a song that he knows and you almost changed your entire life’s trajectory for him.

No, you remind yourself, these are valid points. Joel or not, it makes sense to stay.  

It doesn’t matter how you justify it to yourself in your mind, the annoyance that anyone would think you’d make a decision this huge for anyone but yourself doesn’t ease. You didn’t even consider your parents when you left for university, so why would he think you’d consider him when you’ve only known him a few weeks? 

You try to keep the edge of frustration out of your voice as you respond. “It’s cheaper, for one. I also have a job that I could do once or twice a week if I stay here. I have a chosen family of friends who support and love me. There’s lots of reasons. And at the end of it all, I come out with a law degree.” 

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, his fingers toying with the hem of the blanket. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you had to defend yourself or your decisions.” 

“You assumed I’d choose my future based on you.” You say, and it comes out a lot angrier than you intend. You rush an apology, “Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to sound so harsh.” 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” his voice stays soft as he moves to rub the top of your foot under the blanket. You let him pull it back onto his lap, shortly followed by the other foot. “You’re making a big decision and I could see you working through your thoughts in the car last night. I just don’t want you to think you have to figure this out on your own. I’m here for you. I’m sorry, sweet girl. I was trying to let you know I’m here. I should have worded that differently to begin with.” 

“Sorry,” you murmur, looking back down at your hands. You feel about two feet tall all of a sudden. 

“Hey,” he squeezes at your calves and you look back up at him. “You have nothing to be sorry for. C’mere.” 

You slide across the couch and he pulls you close, draping your legs over his and wrapping you in his arms. “I know Berkeley is more expensive, but you’d have more opportunities there, wouldn’t you?” 

You shrug and lean into his touch. “Maybe, but I’d finish top of the class here, I don’t know where I’ll fit there. Plus, my friends. It’s weird, I’ve never been scared to leave somewhere before; not even when I was freshly eighteen and left my parents, but now I am.” 

His strong hands rub along skin, desire beginning to flicker at your core. It’s only further ignited when he speaks again. 

“Those are all very valid reasons and fears, sweet girl. We all feel that way about big change. Your friends will always be there for you, regardless of what state you decide to go to school in. I’ve only known you for a short time, and I can see how much this means to you. They’ve known you a lot longer, I can only imagine how proud of you they must be. You’re an amazing person and an incredibly hard worker. If anyone can do this, it’s you.” 

“I’ll be in debt forever,” you say with a sigh, leaning back so you can see his face. 

“You don’t have to be…”

“No, I’ll accept the phone, albeit begrudgingly, but I will not accept that.” 

“We’ll see about that,” he says with a wink and a laugh as you roll your eyes.

Joel

The rest of the morning was spent laughing and talking. He asked about your first kiss, your favourite song, what you were most proud of so far. He filed away every single answer. 

As the two of you cleaned up from breakfast he said, “So you never saw yourself having kids?” 

“No. I saw myself fighting for others. I think based on my past that I’d be a great mother, just do the opposite of what my parents did, but that never interested me.” 

His fears from earlier started to ease knowing that you didn’t want kids, and your views on marriage were so mature compared to what he usually heard.

He oiled the cast iron as you spoke. “I just need a partner. Someone who is on my side. I’ve been alone almost my entire life, and I can be happy alone. It’s not the company I need - it’s the support. Someone who can shut the world off. You know?” 

He knew the moment he saw you that he could turn you into the perfect little submissive, his perfect submissive. 

“Sounds like you need a partner who knows how to be a Dom,” he says with a wink, eyes roaming over your body in just that thin black t-shirt he gave you. He sees the switch in your eyes, desire blows your pupils wide, darkening your usually sparkling orbs. “Does my sweet girl need something?” 

He watches your thighs squeeze together as you stand beside him. You hum a yes and nod your head. 

“Are you sore?” 

“Yes, Mister Miller. But I still need it.” 

He leans in closely, tracking the shiver that runs up your body as his lips ghost along the shell of your ear. In a deep whispered command he says, “Give me that shirt, and then go wait upstairs for me.” 

He pulls back and watches as your arms cross in front of your body and grab the hem of the soft cotton shirt. Time slows as you reveal your naked body to him, his heart catching in his throat along with his breath. So utterly perfect. 

“Good girl,” he hums, extending his hand for the shirt. “Upstairs, on your hands and knees at the foot of the bed.” 

He watches you the entire way up the stairs. You only glance over your shoulder once, and he knows the wink he sends you is the reassurance you need. Granted, the little smile and the slight skip in your step afterwards were a dead giveaway that you’re excited for whatever he has planned. 

He waits in the kitchen, forcing himself to keep his eye on the digital clock of the microwave. Three minutes, he tells himself. His dick has other plans, throbbing behind his loose, low hanging pajama pants. Wait three minutes, you weak and pathetic little man. 

He palms himself through the fabric to relieve some of the ache, picturing your ass up in the air on the end of his bed. When the three minutes pass, he practically sprints up the stairs until he reaches his bedroom. He takes a breath to compose himself before stepping over the threshold. Looking to his left, you’re exactly how he wanted you. Knees on the edge of the bed, hands planted on the mattress, eyes glued to the fluffy sheets below you. 

“Remind me, sweet girl,” he fights the smile as you startle at his voice, wide eyes looking over your shoulder. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms. “Did you mark off that you’re interested in exploring aspects of anal sex?” 

“Yes, Mister Miller.” You say shyly. 

“Here’s what we are going to do,” he starts to walk towards you, eyes roaming along every inch of you. “Look at the mattress, please.” 

He smiles as you obey, always his good girl. 

“You’re going to stay very still. I am going to tease your beautiful pussy and ass with my tongue and fingers.” He stops right behind you, running his fingertips along the back of your thighs. “I’m going to go slow. I want you to close your eyes and just breathe. Focus on my tongue. Can you do that?” 

“Yes, Mister Miller.” 

“Good girl. Before we start, grab a pillow and put your chest on the bed. I need you to arch your back for me.” He slips his pajama pants off as you crawl forward to grab the pillow and licks his lips as your ass scoots back down the bed before you get into his desired position. 

“So beautiful,” he coos, kneeling on the small bench at the foot of his bed. “I’m going to start by drawing long lines of my tongue from here,” his finger lightly presses on your clit, he collects your arousal as he runs it up the soft folds of your cunt, stopping when he reaches your asshole, “To here”.

“I’m going to do that a few times, and then start applying more and more pressure. Once you start to shake, and you will start, sweet girl, so please, don’t hold back. But once you start to shake, I’m going to swirl my thumb along that tight little ring of muscle while I eat your pussy.” 

You let out a moan, he hasn’t even touched you yet and he can see you growing wetter. “Think you like the idea of that. Already so wet for me.” 

“What else?” You ask with a moan. 

“I’m going to tease your ass with my tongue and fingers until you let me in. And then fuck you with my fingers, all while continuing to suck on your clit until you come for me. Do I have your consent?” 

He can hear the smile on your face as you say, “Yes, Mister Miller.” 

“No, no, baby. I want you to say ‘Yes, Mister Miller, you have my consent to play with my ass’.” 

He sees your cheeks flush crimson, he brings his hands to your waist, holding you firmly as his cock rubs against your thighs. “Y-yes, Mister Miller. You have my consent….”

“You can say it, sweet girl. Come on.” 

“To….”

He leans over you, placing a kiss on your shoulder. “Good girl, keep going.” 

“To play with my ass.” 

He sinks his teeth into the meat of one of your cheeks and then runs his tongue over the sharp pain before he does exactly as he said he was going to. 

You 

Your whimpers of pleasure fill the room as two of Joel’s thick fingers slide easily into your ass. You have no concept of how long he’s been teasing you. Since he took the lube out, you’ve been nothing but a vibrating ball of pleasure. His tongue flicks your clit with perfect precision, his fingers stretching and caressing you at the same time. 

“I wanna come, Mister Miller,” you whine. 

He pulls his face away from your centre. “That right?” 

“Please. It feels so good.” 

“You know you don’t have to ask, sweet girl. You can come as many times as you want.” 

“Need more,” you manage to gasp as he curls his fingers slightly inside of you. 

“What do you need?” 

“Fuck me - fuck me while you do that with your fingers.” 

“‘Manners!” He growls. 

“Please, Mister Miller,” you half whine, half cry. “I need to come. Please.” 

He slips his fingers from you and you whimper in protest. “I know, sweet girl.” 

He urges you to move forward and then you feel the mattress dip as he kneels behind you. The click of the cap of the lube sounds behind you, the cool liquid hitting your ass. The warm tip of his cock slides from your ass to clit, back and forth, spreading your slick along with the lube. You push back into the soft top of his cock every time it teases your ass. 

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” 

“It’s been hours, please, Mister Miller.” 

“That’s a bit dramatic, baby,” he says, focusing his attention on that tight ring of muscle that you’ve never explored before. “It hasn’t even been an hour.“

You push back again, feeling intense pressure. You hiss as the sensation but don’t pull away. “Easy, sweet girl. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

The slippery tip of his cock slides towards your entrance. He pauses, and then as he finally pushes inside of you, his thumb enters you at the same time. You cry out, “Oh my god.”

The usual pinch of the stretch of him filling you isn’t there this time. You don’t need to adjust to his size, you just need him to fuck you.

“Harder, Mister Miller.” 

He obliges, keeping his thumb firmly inside of you as he slides his hips back and thrusts forward. He repeats this motion, setting a quick pace, his hips slamming against your ass over and over. You bury your face into the pillow and scream; deja vu washes over you. The darkness, the way his cock kisses your g-spot, the heat of his body behind you. This is the recurring dream you used to have about Joel, and it’s so much better in real life. 

“Play with your pretty clit, sweet girl. Wanna feel you.” 

You bring your hand to your clit. You’re so wet that your fingers easily slip along your most sensitive part. You rub fast, tight circles, moaning and somehow arching your back even further. “Atta girl. Make yourself come for me.” 

Your orgasm slams through you and you scream his preferred dom name into the pillow. Your entire body is vibrating, your pussy clenches hard around his cock. You feel him growing harder before he’s calling your name along with praise and then spills inside of you. 

His forehead meets your back, the sweat of his forehead mixing with your own as you both try to catch your breath. Your heart races. I love you. 

Joel

When his alarm goes off Monday morning, it’s the first time in a long time that he’s not looking forward to work. He spent the better part of his weekend with you. The rest of your Saturday was spent in a bubble bath before ordering take out and watching movies. He reluctantly dropped you off at home on Sunday morning in a pair of his sweatpants, a hoodie and wool socks. Even while carrying your dress and heels and doing a proverbial walk of shame, you were undeniably gorgeous. 

Now, he sits in his office, the heat of the afternoon spring sun causing the air conditioner to whirl. In the past few weeks, his feelings towards being in a relationship has mirrored the weather. When he met you in February, he was cold and isolated towards the idea, but now just weeks later as March turns to April, he’s warm and soft towards it, opening up to someone when he didn’t think he ever would. He opens a brown folder, a proposal for a new building that JMConstriction is going to take on. Tommy has already done the real work; at this point, Joel is just the figurehead for the construction side. He grabs his pen, looping a J and an M neatly. 

He places his glass on the table and pinches the bridge of his nose. He knows he should have read that before signing, if only he could focus on the words. Somehow the letters on the page transformed into you. Smiling as the movie played, laughing as the two of you tried to toss popcorn across the couch and into the other person's mouth. 

He’s all in, for as long as you’ll let him. He woke up Sunday morning to his cock in your mouth. You whispered asking if it was ok and after his hum of approval he watched your lips slide up and down his shaft. Simply put, he is mesmerized by you. He stopped you before he came, pulling you onto your side, your back against his front and slipped inside of you. He made you come three times before he let himself fall over the edge. 

As he held you, you confirmed that you were staying here for law school. 

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Yes. For lots of reasons. But yes, I’m happy. I don’t think I’ve ever been happy. I’m staying here.”

Guilt and excitement swirled in his stomach at your decision. He has to tell you what he did. He should tell you regardless of your decision, but it’s going to be so much harder now. He picks up his phone and texts you. 

Joel: Hi, sweet girl. Before we celebrate at the club on Tuesday, can I take you out for dinner? 

You: I would love that, Mister Miller. But this super rich man has me scheduled to clean his house from 12-4, so what time are you thinking? 

Joel: Get ready at my place, Freckles. We’ll have a drink and then go for dinner, then I’m going to teach you all about the St. Andrew’s Cross.  

He wants you to stay. More than wants, he needs you to stay. The thought of you leaving now makes him feel like his lungs are in a vice grip. Wrong, Joel. That vice grip is actually that thing you did. You know this is going to hurt her, he scolds himself loudly. The imaginary iron fist squeezes tighter and he fights to suck in a full breath. 

He has to tell you. He will tell you. At dinner tomorrow night, he will explain everything from the beginning. You can’t find out any other way or you’ll likely never forgive him. His heart starts to deflate at the thought of not being able to wake up beside you again; seeing you in a cocoon of down-filled sheets, just the top of your head and one foot giving away your identity. 

He stands from his desk and walks towards his office door, clicking the lock and resting his forehead against the wood. He closes his eyes, resting one hand on his chest. I can’t lose her. 

[cozycottagetarot]

How They Show Their Love & Affection

This reading is for entertainment purposes only! Take only what resonates be it all, some or none! ✨

LINKS: Reading Masterlist | Dividers | Ko-Fi | Patreon | Patreon Masterlist | Paid Readings - Classic | Paid Readings - $10 and Under

PILE 1

I feel like your person is such a romantic. They genuinely want you to feel loved and believe it wholeheartedly. You can practically sense their love—they want you to feel like you're absolutely blessed and gifted in this lifetime when you're with them. I really get the sense that your person embodies certain love languages strongly. Gift-giving and acts of service could be their primary love language.

They want to make you feel like you're living a luxurious life, defined by whatever "luxury" means to you. They're the kind of person who would buy flowers for you, just because. They'd go for a walk and hold your hand which may feel a bit cliche. with you—simple, sweet moments like that mean a lot to them. If there’s something practical, like bugs in your home that need dealing with, they’d step in and handle it for you without hesitation.

They’re very romantic, both in the classical sense and in a way that's unique to how the two of you define romance. There’s also this cheerleader vibe—they’ll always be in your corner, supporting you and encouraging you.

They’d take time out of their day just to be with you, even if it’s something quick, like grabbing coffee or tea together for five minutes. They’re the kind of person who appreciates those little moments and stitches them into something meaningful.

They’d also plan thoughtful surprises for you. If surprises aren’t your thing, they’d still do spontaneous, kind gestures to show their love. If you asked, “What’s the occasion?” they’d simply say, “Just because” or “Just because I love you.” That’s their energy—always looking for ways to make you feel special.

I get the feeling they want to be your knight in shining armor. Anytime you need them, they’ll be there. You can absolutely count on them, 100%.

PILE 2

I'm getting the sense that your person is the strong, silent type. You may be someone who has either struggled mentally or faced a lot of hardships and difficult events in your life. Because of this, your person’s primary love language is to show up for you and be there, offering unwavering support to help you navigate those challenges.

I feel like quality time and words of affirmation are the love languages they most naturally express. They’ll use these to offer you love and support.

They’re the kind of person who will help you see new perspectives, guiding you out of your head and pushing you to grow into your best self. At the same time, they’ll also be there to comfort you, offering a sense of safety and reassurance. Even when life feels overwhelming, they’ll remind you that you don’t have to face it all alone.

They’re going to help you break free from anything that’s holding you back—be it limiting beliefs, unhealthy habits, or challenging relationships. They’ll stand by you as you work through those obstacles, and they’ll support you in fostering healthier connections with others.

When life feels like it’s falling apart, they’ll be right there, holding your hand every step of the way. They’ll also help you rebuild, piece by piece, until you’re standing on solid ground again.

On top of all that, they’re a deeply loving and nurturing partner. Whatever you need—mentally, emotionally, or physically—they won’t hesitate to provide. They want to see you thrive, and they’ll go out of their way to make that happen.

PILE 3

In comparison to Pile 1, where that person was more outspoken about their love, your person seems to love you deeply in their mind, though they might not express it as openly. They could just be a quieter person, or maybe they're more reserved in how they show their affection.

The sense I’m getting is that you’re your person’s muse—they genuinely want you to be happy. Because of this, I feel like quality time is probably the main way they express their love. However, they might always be on the move and have a lot going on in their life, so when they do make time for you, it’s their way of showing you how much you mean to them.

They try to connect with you emotionally, which leads me to think words of affirmation might also be a love language they lean toward. They’ll offer support and encouragement, letting you know how much you mean to them through their words.

There’s also a subtle, gentle touch to their affection, though they may not be overly physical. They may not be a super touchy-feely person, but they show their care in ways that feel warm and comforting.

They seem like the type to take you on dates where you can either learn something new or experience something beautiful together. I get the sense that they’re very creative, perhaps an artist or someone with a deep appreciation for art, and that creative energy is something they bring into your relationship.

Their passion will likely show more in the experiences you share together rather than grand declarations or intense gestures. They value those shared moments and want to create lasting memories with you.

In terms of love languages, they’ll likely try to be fair and give you a balanced experience. While quality time might be their favorite, they’ll also try to meet you where you are and love you in the ways that resonate most with you. They won’t limit themselves to just one way of expressing love—they’ll try to cater to your preferences.

I also get the feeling that they favor experiences over material gifts. Rather than buying things, they’d rather create meaningful moments with you.

Ultimately, the main thing here is that they just want to spend time with you—quality time is the consistent theme that keeps coming through.

[7s3ven]

MAFIA AU! TASK FORCE 141 x MOB BOSS GF! READER

( master list )

Continuation of this

Do y’all want individual oneshots of how you met each of them?

Notes: reader has piercings (ear lobes and navel piercing + gets a tongue piercing), reader has tattoos (tramp stamp + shoulder)

Princess treatment… only the best for their sweetheart.

- There’s nothing these four men won’t do for you. Oh, you want more clothes? Price is already contacting a high-end boutique. You’re favourite YSL heels broke? No worries, Kyle has a back-up pair. You want a tongue piercing to match your navel one? Jonny is already making the appointment. You want a specific type of lobster that’s only found in a foreign country? Simon somehow has it on hand.

- The day you decided to get tattoos is the day Simon stopped functioning. He had his fair share of ink plastered on his skin but he can never look away from that damn tramp stamp on your lower back. It’s hard to concentrate when you stretch and your shirt rides up, giving him a clear view of the taunting tattoo

- It’s no secret that everybody is jealous of your relationship with your boys and vice versa. You’ve seen women eyeing your lovers, attracted to their muscles and tall height

- Trips to the mall are your favourite thing in life. They always have been. It gets better when your lovers start accompanying you. You’re on the phone, rattling to your friend about her unhealthy relationship with her boyfriend

“I don’t see the appeal in him anymore, Miae. I mean, he’s like, a total jerk.” You pause to take a sip from your iced tea, “He doesn’t even treat you with respect. That’s like, the first rule of being a boyfriend! On top of that, his cologne reeks. I literally drown in it every time I’m near him!”

- You best believe your boyfriends are trailing behind you, secretly listening to the conversation and agreeing that Miae should breakup with whoever this guy was

- You’re carrying multiple shopping bags as you stride forward, people subconsciously making a path for you. You look a spoiled heiress with four large bodyguards towering over everybody

- Price, Kyle, and Simon aren’t usually interested in gossip but when they hear about your gossip nights with Jonny, they have to join. They end up listening to you rant about a rather sticky situation your friend is in and when they see you next, they always ask for updates

- Online shopping is a must. What kind of girl would you be if you weren’t debating whether to buy that skirt or not?

- Your apartment has always been… messy. You never find the motivation to clean it and even if you do, you get overwhelmed quickly. Gaz intervenes most of the time, cleaning it for you. He cooks too. And bakes. Anything to see a pretty smile on your face

- Of course, Price bought you the apartment. It was the best (and biggest) one for sale

- All four men have a soft spot for you, doing things they usually wouldn’t just to hear your laugh. And they are the masters of cheering you up when you’re on your period

- If anyone dares flirt with you, it’s over for them. It’s an unspoken rule within the city that you belong to the TF 141 mafia

- The four men love seeing you dolled up. Most of the time, you’re wearing items they’ve bought you. You treat the Dior bag Simon gifted you like a damn puppy

- You are their whole world and you know what they say; ‘happy wife, happy life’. Sure, you aren’t married yet but it’s bound to happen soon. Your friend swore they spotted Price and Simon looking at rings

- Anything you want, you get, which includes new nails. Price adores paying for your nail appointments. The sight of you staring down at your decorative nails in awe when you think he isn’t watching is adorable

- Johnny isn’t so innocent. Yeah, the nails look good but they feel even better being raked down his back

- Kyle is the one surprising you with flowers. You once returned to your apartment only to find it overtaken by nature. He even leaves cute little notes in hidden spots

- Simon is… Simon. He’s not doing outwardly romantic gestures, choosing to keep it behind closed doors. His way of showing his love to you in public is keeping you close, a strong arm wrapped around your waist. Sometimes he lets you sit on his lap, his leg bouncing as a way to preoccupy himself while you scroll through celebrity drama

- They’ll be damned if they let someone else sweep you off your feet. It’s not like you’d leave willingly anyway. They spoil you too good and you feel too safe in their arms to even think of leaving

[nekovmancer]

overwatch headcanons: how they say "I love you" with Ramattra, Reaper, Reinhardt, Cassidy and Hanzo

a bit angsty and some curse words ahead, but still sfw. don’t blame me, I enjoy the suffering and since you're still reading I bet you also do

also silly little juno was SMASHED by writer’s block again, please help sending a headcanon request, but read rules first

Ramattra

doesn’t say it at all, actually

he was shaped for violence, hands carefully constructed to murder

the sentience came with grief, sorrow, rage… but love? this big fella doesn’t even love himself, to begin with

it’s hard for him to cope with affection, to learn the aspects of it, mostly the very subtle nuances of reciprocation

but it’s you, and since you came along, this foreign feeling haunts him 

and when you say “I love you” first… he’s so silent you’re scared you’ve broken him with this three words alone

“How is it possible for you to love a being as myself?”

he feels the urge to say something back, but simply can’t vocalize the words he’s dying to say

you know he’s overwhelmed already, his pride contrasting his feelings, so you don’t push him too far: Ramattra shows you enough

but your words echoes in his systems for days

in one of these, he’s with you as he always do before you fall asleep, and the words just came out

“I may not have a heart, and even if I did, it wouldn’t be mine: it would be yours. It always has been.”

it’s not an explicit I love you

no, it’s much better

Reaper

you know what happens between you two must stay secretive

it’s… casual, if you can name it such

I mean, he comes to you every damn night, and most of them aren’t for sex, but for company 

and the cuddles, of course

you see him past the scars, the shadows… what lies beneath it as the ghost of a man 

and you love him nonetheless

despite all the danger that comes along with him being one of Talon’s counselors and a declared enemy to Overwatch

until one night, when he doesn’t show up and never let you know why

and this one night turns into tons

you’re broken, to say at least

he avoids you, not even a single stolen glance through briefings, no more missions together

you don’t know where you manage to find the courage to confront him, but somehow you do, so you’re cornering Reaper himself and demanding an answer 

“Isn’t it obvious?”

well, of course: you were dumb enough to get to attached

but he steps closer, so surprisingly close you can hear a shallow breath muffled by his mask

the shadows engulf you both before you can blink, and his ghostly touch stops just inches away from your cheek

“I’ve risked too much so far… but not you, not anymore”

you know what he means, you just wish you didn’t

he departs with a last glance over his shoulder, to never look back again 

if he wasn’t who he was, maybe things would be different

yet if things weren’t the same, you two wouldn’t even met

in the end, you’re left to grief in the graveyard he paths on his way away from you

Reinhardt

he’s a hero and will always be

but that doesn’t mean Reinhardt is invincible

that’s why you’re laying by his side, taking extra care to not accidentally touch the bandages covering his torso

you’re little injured from the last mission, a few scratches maybe

thanks to him, who jumped right into the moment to keep your head glued to your neck

per usual, he would be flourishing the battle tales and his epic acts, his thunderous laugh echoing through the HQ, but now?

the sadness contorting his face breaks your heart 

he stares down at you, one calloused thumb tracing under the thin line of the stitches on your cheekbone

“I’ve let them hurt you”

oh… so that’s it

“If I was a second late… I hate to even think of what could've happened”

he groans, retreating his hand and looking away 

if he could ever be more dearing, you would’ve exploded 

you cup his face and make Reinhardt look at you once again, reassuring him you’re here, safe and sound, thanks to him 

it takes a bit of convincing, but soon enough you hear one of his deep chuckles resonating in his chest and know that you’ll be just fine

“I will always be there to protect you, liebling, no matter what it takes. For I could never live in a world where there is no you by my side.”

Cassidy

he’s always flirting and teasing, so you would assume it’s all a joke

despite him throwing his arm over your shoulder and resting his head on yours every goddamn time he has a chance

and if you’re quiet and close enough, you can hear his fast heartbeats pulsing

maybe… he’s just affectionate, yeah

not that you see Cole like that with anyone else, but

you could never take him seriously, because he can never be serious for once

it’s always a wink here, a smooth darlin’ there

yet he never makes a move on you that gives you the clarity you need

so it’s it, an eternal what if

until one days he comes from a mission, all dirty and hurt

you’re surprised to see he came straightforward to you, still trying to catch his breath while holding to his injured side

but before you can drop any question, Cole smashes his lips against yours

and it feels holy 

he keeps you close when you break the kiss, trying to remind yourself how to breath

his breath is so warm against your face, and that familiar scent of smoke makes your knees weak

“I fucking meant everything I’ve ever said, doll”

for the way he just kissed you, you’re now sure he does 

Hanzo

Hanzo isn’t one to speak about his feelings openly

you’re actually surprised you’re now tiptoeing around some sort of serious relationship

at least, you think it’s serious since you barely leave each other’s side

it’s extremely hard for him to be vocal about his affection, though

sometimes, he would still flinch when you touch him out of blue

but he loves to run his fingers along your hair, your face…

your body is his to worship

and there’s this lazy morning, where he’s kissing your knuckles and embracing your waist…

you just feel you could melt right here, into him

until something cold circles your finger and your eyes snap open

a ring

a FUCKING ring

you stare at him in pure disbelief, eyes so wide they must pop out by any second

Hanzo shows the most loving smile you had ever seen, kissing your ring finger

that now has an actual engagement ring 

“Being with you everyday is still too little time. I wish nothing but foreverness with you”

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Pussydrunk!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Cockdrunk!Fem!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Simon comes home from deployment, hungry to have his pretty girl all to himself. Things get heated quick and before long you are both drunk off the feeling of the other. From this ask here.

Word Count: 5.4 k

Warnings:

The moment those heavy boots hit the threshold of the apartment, brown eyes are searching for you as Simon’s heart pounds in his ears the same as it had the entire drive over. He’s been gnawing at the bit since even before he returned to base a day ago, aching to get back to the gorgeous being living in his flat. The last month of his deployment he’s been on edge, counting down the days in agonizing fashion as the craving growing in the pit of his stomach gets worse and worse. Fuck, he’s missing you - all of you - something fierce. 

Simon has missed those sweet moans of yours, the way you make his name sound so perfect through the stuttered gasps as you reach that level of incoherence that renders you completely useless; he has missed all the ways your body moves against and underneath him, writhing and back arching as his larger form overwhelms you; he has missed the way you fuck him, body begging for more even as you struggle to fit him all in and how beautiful it is to be inside you. 

It is enough to drive the man insane.

From the bedroom you can hear the door opening and closing and rush to the living room as quick as your legs can move, carried by giddy nerves to see your lover again after so long. You knew he was meant to be in today, but not the time and so you’ve been on edge waiting and listening; as soon as you see him a deepening ache situates itself in your chest. 

Simon clocks you as you come into the living room and he can’t find enough air to fill his lungs; by the way your cheeks instantly glow with warmth and your eyes sparkle he’s sure you are feeling the same tension fill the air around you the moment you two are in sight of one another. You are the one to close the distance as Simon’s limbs feel too heavy to move at first, blood being drawn to other places along his body that need it more now that he is near to the object of his desire. 

“Hey there stranger,” you smile up into those familiar balaclava- clad features as your heartbeat steadily becomes more erratic from your body flooding with that desperate longing to be against him once again. It is always the same: when you two are apart for long periods when he has to be away the moment you are in front of one another again it is like striking a match in a room filled with gasoline. “Long time no see.” 

He stares back down at you, light chocolate eyes taking in the face he hasn’t seen properly in too damn long. “Well ‘ello there yerself, pretty girl,” he returns, gravely tone sending chills down your spine as he drops the gear on his shoulder to the floor so that he has free range of motion to cup his calloused hand along your soft, delicate cheek. “It’s been a hot fuckin’ minute. Did ya miss me, luv?”

Before his brain can register what’s happening he senses something brush up against him in the small space still between your bodies and as his eyes travel down he sees that your hand is grabbing at his belt buckle, silky digits lacing themselves around the metal clasp. His eyes jump back up to yours instantly.

You aren’t wasting any time, are you? Fucking hell.

“Missed you a whole fucking lot, Simon,” you say under your breath as you give his belt a firm tug forward so that he has to take a step into you. Your thighs are already being rubbed together where you stand; it’s instant the way he can turn you on just by his presence alone. “Didn’t know when you’d be in; been waiting as patiently as I could, but I gotta say it hasn’t been easy. Got my nerves all flustered. How about you? Are you flustered, baby?”

You just have to do it, don’t you? That one damned gesture that always sends him reeling.

It isn’t a secret how the time apart makes him pine for you as if he is a man dying of thirst: for those hot, breathless moments spent between your thighs, for the way your bodies seem created only for the other, for the intense sensations of euphoria that only you can give him. So when your fingers hook into his belt to pull him in closer, you know what effect it will have on making him crumble, don’t you? 

Eight months is far too fucking long not to have any piece of you and any little touch would have done the trick to do him in, but you know the exact combination that will have him throwing you on your back in a heartbeat. He is a man starved of his addiction and it’s about goddamn time he had another hit. As you tug at the leather with a smirk across your lips, doe-eyed stare not so innocent anymore, all that yearning that had been bubbling right under the calm surface of those autumn-colored eyes for eight long, agonizing months explodes with force. 

No words, not a goddamn sound as that skull mask is ripped up off of Simon’s face in a flash quicker than your eyes can catch. Your body is moved by two strong arms more than capable of manhandling those curves with ease and find yourself slammed into the wall while he clasps your chin securely in his grip so that hungry lips can scramble to aggressively capture your own. While your lips dance, his free hand roams up under your clothes to grab ahold of any piece of available flesh as all that pent up desire surges through his veins like liquid fire. His fingertips tremble as they brush across all that soft, balmy skin along your abdomen and around your hips, making him produce a guttural moan into your open mouth that you are forced to swallow down. 

That huge, hulking body of his with its prominent muscles bulging everywhere even through his clothing overwhelms your own as he pins you harder against the wall while his grip descends to around your ass so that he can bring your hips forward, clothed pelvis rutting into you to catch any extra bit of friction he can as that tenting at the crotch of his pants swells the longer he grinds against you. His mouth is insatiable, stealing sloppy, frantic kisses one after another until your lips burn from the abrasion… and yet you still aren’t satisfied. 

Simon feels your nipples through your t-shirt stiffening as his chest rubs against them, a reminder to his numbing brain that there is even more of a feast for him waiting just beneath your clothes if he can just get them off you; the couple of nudes he keeps in his phone that you send him while he’s away are only a pale comparison to the real fucking thing and he’s been dying see it in person.

You’re close to one another, but not fucking close enough. 

He needs skin on skin, curves molded into curves, cock buried in you deep. That’s the crux of it all - he needs to be reminded of what you feel like wrapped around him, lose his mind as your cunt gives him the sensation he can get nowhere else from no one else. It consumes him in that moment until his thoughts are filled with nothing but the oncoming ecstasy that will soon be his. 

Feverish fingers slip themselves into the waistband at the back of your pants as he continues to rut against you, the few layers of fabric between you about to be reduced as he shoves down taking your pants over the arch of your ass until they fall around your ankles and you can step out of them. Your own fingers are already undoing the buckle of his belt before your clothes can hit the floor; thank fuck that Simon likes to keep his wardrobe uncomplicated when on leave. 

“Christ, I’m so fuckin’ hard for ya, sweetheart,” he breathes the heated, desperate words against your raw lips as hips continue to grind on you and make your work that much more difficult, “it’s been hell being away for so long. I’ve been fuckin’ starved, baby. That sweet little pussy of yours is callin’ my fuckin’ name. I need it, I need ya…fuckin’ can’t wait another goddamn second.” 

The muscles along his abdomen tense through his shirt as you brush against them until finally his belt comes loose and you can move onto the button securing his pants. You finish undoing everything just in time for him to tear that fucking shirt clean off your top half before doing exactly the same to his own. 

The middle of his chest is flushed pink and hastily you lean in to press your lips to it, through the tingle against your mouth from tiny hairs brushing over the delicate skin you can feel he is so warm it’s like he’s heated from the inside out. That broad chest heaves up and down heavily with the weight of his lust-filled breaths as you dot tender pecks along the center before he can’t take anymore and picks you up, throws you over his shoulder, and hurriedly drags you off to the bedroom hungry and ready to indulge.  

“That’s it,” Simon says in that brash tone that lets you know he’s reached his limit. “Can’t take this ache ‘nother goddamn second. You and that sweet thing between your legs are mine now.”  

He’s able to make it across the apartment in no time and throws open the bedroom door so that it hits the wall behind it with a booming thud as he stalks to the bed and sets you down on the surface, making sure to remove the pants hanging loosely around his hips as quick as he can along with his boxers. The moment he’s free of the clothing binding him that thick, meaty appendage springs to life, bobbing at attention as the vein along it pulses, and your breath hitches as your eyes are drawn to it; he’s not the only one who’s hungry and its been a hot fucking minute since you’ve laid eyes on all he has to offer.

You barely have time to scramble up towards the pillows at the head of the bed before he is crawling up towards you, a predator’s gaze making his iris’ flash and sparkle with an internal fire in the scant bit of light from the bedside lamp that illuminates the room. 

Simon’s shoulder muscles tense as he moves on all fours until he’s over you, his cock dangling down as he gets between your legs so that it drags over the petals of your pussy. You can feel it throb as it becomes even more engorged with blood at the stimulation and it makes your mouth salivate. A strained grunt echoes through his closed lips as the tip grazes over that silky, heated skin between your thighs; he’s already vibrating with pleasure… what the fuck is gonna happen when he gets inside?

Only one way to find out…

Simon pulls your legs up high around his waist, wide torso keeping you nice and spread for him. You claw at his shoulder blades with your nails as you shove your hips into him, body practically begging for him to get inside already. Screw any foreplay, you can’t afford to wait and let this frantic moment slip by. There is only one thing you want in you and it is already throbbing at its destination. 

“Fuck, please Simon, just get inside me,” your plea sends a shiver down his spine. “I don’t want to fucking wait…waited long enough.”

Spitting into his hand he applies the moisture to your entrance, lubricating the opening with hard presses of his fingertips along your cunt to help get things moving in the right direction. “Been a while, baby,” he returns as he aligns the tip and presses it against you while trying not to fall apart at the seams, “ya sure ya can still fuckin’ take it all?”

You nod aggressively, the need to be filled out by him overwhelming your every sense. You’ve waited patiently all this time, chomping at the bit for him to get back to you and now that he is here between your legs it’s all you can think about. “Give it to me,” you demand. “I need it baby, please, I’m aching something terrible. I need to feel you inside me again.”

How could he ever deny a request like that from you? 

The world falls away as the tip slips through the threshold of your body and inside and he has to stop as just the head alone stretching you wide sends him spiraling. Your back arches off of the bed as you squirm under him, mouth falling open with half-formed moans that get caught in the back of your throat as the tight space is beginning to fill. Simon shudders with ecstasy, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth to bite down in hopes that the sharp pain will force him to stay sane.  

Another thrust shoves him in a bit more so that now he’s more than halfway there, but still has just a bit to go. Your body doesn’t stand a chance as you lay under him at his mercy. His fingernails graze your waist as his hands hold on tight; he has to fit it in, get to the base, completely surround himself within you. Taking a deep breath he gathers another burst of energy to thrust all the way until he bottoms out and you release a cry into the silence of the room. 

“Goddamn ya feel so fuckin’ good princess, like a goddamn dream,” he gasps out as his head snaps down against your chest. “Pretty girl, my pretty fuckin’ girl, wanna keep ya fuckin’ full ‘a me all the time.”

Simon’s brain is quickly becoming mush as the warmness and growing wetness of your pussy makes his large form quiver at the bliss. You are no better, sanity slipping away as his hefty cock practically molds your walls to his specific shape as it rests inside. Hips begin to rock and are immediately punctuated by a deep-throated groan with each snap as he settles into a steady rhythm.   

Thrust after thrust each one harder than the last pushes your body until it is shoved up and your head hits the wall behind the bed. Simon’s nose nuzzles into your neck as feeble whimpers leave the confines of your mouth and pack his head full. “Missed your sounds too,” he says, amidst another thrust. “Keep this up and it’s gonna be my fuckin’ end, sweetheart.” Another strong thrust follows and then another.  

A yearning need to see himself fuck your gorgeous body suddenly engulfs his mind and so he slow sits himself up on his knees, making sure to keep himself inside you, so that he can get the perfect birdseye view of the beautiful way your body takes him in. It’s perfection and he cannot help but become absorbed in watching as each thrust in and out makes his cock disappear inside that narrow passage only to slip back out covered in more of your juices with each pass. 

Over and over his hips rock into you, the muscles along his abdomen clenching, fingertips digging into your sides to hold you still as his speed steadily increases the longer he goes. Your music fills his head, whimpers of pleasure as he strikes against your g-spot from the angle he’s positioned in, and that is the only thing that is floating in there now as everything else becomes a blur. 

The stoic and collected military officer is reduced to a glorious mess the longer he thrusts, drooling over you, going blind and delirious at the feeling of those tight, silky walls sucking him all in as they flutter around his cock. It’s been too long, too many nights spent alone without your company stuck half-way across the world with only his hand to keep him occupied when he can get a free moment, which those were few and far between. But nothing, nothing ever could compare to the feeling of you.

“Can’t get enough,” he stammers with a groan, so wrapped up in the moment that speech is near impossible to produce. “Fuckin’ desperate for ya, need more…need fuckin’ more…”

Simon is deep inside you and yet that ache is still monstrous, eating him alive so that anything outside of the ecstasy of your flesh is just fucking gone. He can’t think, he can’t breathe, he’s obsessed with your body. It isn’t enough though, never enough. You have completely consumed him; he is under your spell and nothing can break the charm.

His head is spinning, thoughts vacant like he is wasted; fuck, he’s high off the sensation of your pussy clenching around him. Now that he is inside you, there is no way he can leave anytime soon. There’s no goddamn way he’s going to let either of you come yet, not after how long you two have gone without each other. 

That hot coil tensing in the pit of his stomach pulls tighter and tighter, but he will not let it snap… not yet. No, he needs this to last as long as he physically can keep it up and so he knows what he has to do and with all his strength he does it; that once intense pounding slows down until he stops amongst your whimpered mewling. 

“What’re you doing?” you stutter, hips desperately trying to buck against him, but he pins them down for a bit. 

“Uh, uh,” he shakes his head, “don’t ya fuckin’ dare think you’re gonna come yet. Ya feel too fuckin’ good to let go of.”

Oh shit… You were in for it now, but just how much you could have never guessed. 

“No…no, please… I need you to keep going,” you plead as your throat strains to release the words, water rimming the whites of your eyes. That consuming ache is so deep in your bones it threatens to devour you whole, causing you to rip at the very seams as it permeates every fiber of your being until your entire form is primed like an explosive ready to combust. You can’t breathe, you can’t fucking think; everything is focused on how much the feeling of him is consuming all of you like a fire burning through dry tinder.

A shuddering breath escapes his lips; even stopping doesn’t help much, your body just feels too good and so he has to at least rut carefully against it. “I know, baby, I know,” he groans as his fingers dig into your hip to now force you to grind your clit into the base of his shaft. “But ya want this to fuckin’ last, yeah? Ya don’t wanna be done with me just yet, do ya?”

That thick, veiny appendage lay inside you, its girth stretching out the walls of your cunt to capacity as it simply rests there throbbing with the beat of his rapid heart rate, stewing in the filthy mess of juices he’s already made between your legs. You choke on a whimper as the stimulation to your clit sends a shockwave through to your toes and you clench them together, gathering some of the sheets into their grip. 

“No,” you shake your head wildly. “You just feel so fucking good, I can’t help it… feels so good… I just wanna keep feeling good with you, Simon.”

“I know, sweet girl,” he praises as he leans forward and presses his burning lips to the skin on your stomach, knowing that no matter what you would have said he wasn’t going to let you tap out yet; he needs your pussy like he needs air to survive. “It’s been too fuckin’ long since we’ve been able ta do this…need ta make up for all the lost time.” 

Simon’s dreamt about this the entire time you’ve been apart; insatiable, desperate, carnal fantasies about fucking your tight hole to within an inch of your sanity, making you come so hard that you can’t move for hours after. His cock has been throbbing for months with nothing but his fucking hand to take the edge off as he pictures filling out every inch of your hole until there is nowhere left for his cock to go.

Another couple of minutes of simply breathing, grinding, and focusing on the way the skin of your torso is so soft against his lips and he’s far enough from that ledge that he wants to start thrusting full force again. He leans down and wraps his arms around your body and you take it as a sign that he’s going to start up again, only for him to roll you both until you are the one on top now. The movement is unexpected, but you are more than willing to go along with it if it means you can take control of your own pleasure. 

As he situates himself under you, his hands roam up and down your sides while he takes a second to enjoy how you look perched over him: full tits directly in his face, hair cascading around your cheeks as you peer down into his face, eyes rolling back in your head every time a sensitive point gets stimulated. You are his fucking fantasy when you get on top. 

“I wanna have ya ride me for a bit,” he breathes. “Show me how good ya ride it, pretty girl. Make my cock your toy.”

As long as he stays inside you, you’ll do whatever the hell he wants.    

Placing your hands on his hard chest for support while his hand moves back to your hips, Simon guides you up and down until you are bouncing in rhythm to match his racing heartbeat. Harder and harder he shoves you forcefully down to get as deep into you as possible until you can feel bruises rising where his hands have a hold of you, yet that doesn’t matter at all as you can only comprehend the way his cock is rendering you too fucking dumb to think of anything else.  

Pushing down against his chest you bob up and down on your knees as best as you can, trying to keep up with his relentless pace. He told you to use him, but all you want is for him to make you his living fleshlight as you are forced to take it all. Your movements start to get sloppy after a time as you can hardly keep yourself focused anymore with how good it feels and Simon takes notice, though he is ready with the solution.

His hips start to strike up into your pussy as even though he is beneath you he is more than capable of taking control, not wanting to move into a new position just yet. You whimper and whine with your mouth hung open as each percussive hit sends shockwaves of euphoria ripping through you just like you want. This is too much for anyone to handle: you being entirely ravaged by him until you are so desperately lost in the pleasure of it all that you are in a complete state of full body bliss. 

You can only sit and take every last delectable inch that he gives you as his massive girth stretches your walls with every thrust of his pelvis upward. The room fills with the wet, sticky music of your bodies slapping against each other as he works your hole as if this is the last chance he will ever get to fuck you and he needs to make it count.

Minute after minute, his full attention being focused solely on you, each stroke along that incredibly sensitive bundle of nerves inside your core drives you increasingly closer to that razor’s edge and threatens to violently throw you off at any point without notice. He must be feeling it too, for again his thrusting slows until he is simply grinding against you once again and that building pressure falls away. 

Over and over again this happens, Simon edging you both closer and closer before struggling to back off and changing positions in a constant rotation, each position just as mind-numbing as the last now that you are cockdrunk. You find yourself on your knees with your head shoved into the mattress  and then on your side with him pressed up against your back, bouncing on top with his hand desperately cupping at your tits and then returning to where it all started on your back, all the while the constant humping during the calmer moments keeps you primed and yet just far enough off the edge that each new round keeps building towards that desperate end. 

Goddamn his stamina is something of legend, but when he wants something bad enough he will make it work no matter how hard he must push himself. And right now he cannot get enough of you no matter how he tries. 

Fuck, your clit is throbbing so hard you think you might pass out, the room so warm your hair sticks to the sides of your face, the scent of sex pungent with each ragged breath shared between your close mouths; every single sense overstimulated to the point of barely being able to process it all. You are perched on his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck, foreheads pressed together tight with eyes shut. 

Simon leans in to kiss your raw mouth, but even the contact from your lips makes him gasp from the sensitivity. Your legs are shaking violently now as he’s slowed once more, every muscle pushed to its limit as he rocks his hips into you just because it feels too good to ever stop completely. Both of you are sparkling from head to toe, coated with the speckled dew of perspiration to match the absolute mess Simon has made between your legs. 

Smooth thighs glisten with that warm, moist, natural lubrication of your cunt as it dribbles out of you and onto the sheets beneath to leave a noticeable dark spot on the bed that’s still warm to the touch. Simon’s mouth waters as the taste buds along his tongue prick to life at the sight, begging to savor all your sweet nectar, but he tells himself to not get ahead of things. 

The rest of the night you are going to be his and he will get everything he wants of it all before the end.

Just like you, Simon is out of his goddamn mind with pleasure. The sensation consumes everything inside him until there is nothing left; the only way he can communicate is through breathy groans and staggered grunts as if he is only an animal now. He craves to be the blood in your veins, the air in your lungs, the only goddamn thing you need. And that is when he knows that he cannot hold off another second. 

Without warning he pulls out of you only briefly so that he can aggressively flip you over onto your back, getting into position by kneeling in front of you as he throws your legs onto his broad, sculpted shoulders before he grips your hips and instantly re-enters you. This is it, though he can’t barely speak, it’s gonna happen whether he is ready or not so he is going to be damned sure to make it go off with a fucking bang.

Again Simon picks up his desperate pace, his abs dripping with sweat as they contract and release after each desperate thrust. Those brown eyes close off to the rest of the world, just absorbing every last second of that mind-numbing goodness that he can before he blows.

“F-fuck, Simon...mmmm…” you whine your plea as you can feel that warmth rising harshly in the pit of your stomach, “p-please… d-d-don’t stop.”

Your mind is all static, so lost on Simon’s cock that you cannot stand it; it’s overwhelming in its intensity that you actually aren’t entirely sure you want to come yet. If you could just stay suspended in this moment forever, you’d die happy. All that edging has done its job just as intended though and with a few more strong thrusts of him deep in your core, that is it: like a hot flash of white light you squeal out in unsteady whimpers as your orgasm rips through you with such force you nearly bolt off the bed as your back arches and your hips buck harshly against him. 

A roar is released from within his chest, his body writhing as he holds on to your waist for dear life while he milks his cock inside you, coating your walls in his cum until he has no more left in him to give. He sounds like a wild animal and it makes your body vibrate with exhilaration; you are the one to make him come with such force he is reduced to more basic instincts. 

You fall back against the bed as your body shakes violently with the force of your orgasm. Never has such intense pleasure overwhelmed you so thoroughly that your limbs tremble uncontrollably before and though the exhaustion overtakes you, it is euphoric. Simon slowly slips himself out of your pussy as he sits back, his overstimulated cock twitching with sensitivity as he removes it from your tightness.

You whimper a little, instantly missing the feeling of him stretching you out and honestly wishing he would have just stayed inside even longer, but you know if you don’t have even a small break that you are not going to survive.

His strong hands hold your vibrating legs apart as he sits back on the mattress exhausted and a million miles away as he watches as his cum dribbles out of your pussy like honey; goddamn did he stuff you to the brim. All you can do is lay there with your eyes shut tight, heart thudding against your ribs as you focus all your remaining brain power on breathing. From your head to the tips of your toes you sparkle with perspiration as if you are decked out in diamonds that shimmer in the low light of the room.

“Christ Simon…gonna kill me,” you chuckle lightly as your mouth finally is able to do something other than hang open. 

Eyes still closed, the sensation of his lips brushing against your inner thigh catches your attention. “Not…yet,” his low, gruff voice hits your ears from between your legs, accent heavy with his fatigue. Why did that sound like a promise?

Your mouth is already forming the question when it instantly dies on your tongue as you become aware of a firm grip from those strong hands spreading your legs open even further as his body slides off the edge of the mattress and onto the floor to sit on his knees with his face at optimal level with your pussy.

“Simon?” you ask hastily as you struggle up to your elbow to see those dark eyes peer up at you just over the mound of your sex. 

The corner of his mouth is barely visible, but you can see it upturn. He may have come, but he is nowhere near finished yet. “Still fuckin’ hungry for ya,” he growls before descending down into the ecstasy of the space in between your thighs. 

Simon just needs to buy time until he can get it up again…good thing his tongue is always ready to go. Sharp features are instantly soaked as he dives in without hesitation, the scent of your arousal instantly clinging to his cheeks and making his cock begin to twitch. His mouth is filled with a combination of both of your flavors as his tongue does what it does best: find your clit like a pleasure-seeking missile. He is ready to get completely lost in you all over again, this time with his first favorite activity and all you can do is hold on as he straps you to his face.

Let the feast on your pussy continue…it’s gonna be a long fucking while until he’s done with you.

Tagging: @llelannie @thicksexxualtension @cheolsblkwife @cum-tea-and-towels @sillylittlereader @mesyakee

[coline7373]

How to comment 101

A fandom is the subculture inherent to a group of fans. It touches anything related to the field of predilection of such a group of people and is organized or created by these same people. And, like everything that comes from people, it is alive and requires exchanges to continue to exists.

People who receive no comments have often and at length express how lonely it can feel to be shouting alone in the void and how discouraging such silence can be.

I have found after asking around that readers aren’t unwilling to comment, but mainly don’t have the energy or know what to say.

Some readers have also expressed a fear of annoying the author, as they are clumsy with words, or feeling intimidated in front of an author who has such a talent with words that the reader's own words feel too embarrassing. Or not feeling that their own five word sentence is worth the bother.

Every word matters.

Every comment is worth its writing to the author.

I refer you to this post if you doubt the importance and impact of comments on fanfics.

To help those willing to comment, I have done a very modest survey of roughly 20 persons, writers and readers alike, and here is what I have come up with.

For writers:

Write in your notes, at the end of the fic, clearly what type of comment you do not want. 

Clearly stating your limits and preferences helps readers who are uncertain or not very verbose to write in a relaxed way.

If they do not have the anxiety of offending, vexing or annoying the author, they will be more comfortable and therefore more inclined to write.

If you have repeated commenters, try to reply to their comments, even with just a few words. Some people who do not receive replies to any of their comments take the lack of response to mean the author is not reading comments at all, feel discouraged and stop commenting in turn.

If you do read the comments, but don’t want to reply for whatever reason, do say so at the end of the fic, in the notes, so that readers know what to expect and not be disappointed.

For readers:

Do:

About the story: 

You can write about a particular line that you liked, the themes, parallels with canon or within the story, the characterisation, a character’s exploration, a/several character’s motivation, a/several character’s mindset/thinking/emotional reaction, a/several characters’ interaction, the plot, the action happening, the worldbuilding, emotions within the fic, subtext, pacing...

If you liked everything and are overwhelmed on how to narrow it down, you can just say exactly that. “I loved everything!”

You can also focus on pointing out just one moment, one line, one specific thing and why you liked them, specifically. What matters is not that you wrote a novel but that you communicated to the author what made you happy, what you enjoyed.

About you: 

What emotions the fic made you feel, what you think is going on in a wip or what you (think you have) figure(d) out, what you are doing in real life while reading the story, afterward, because of it, and/or how the fic impacted your life (yay! motivation to make art!), how the fic is meaningful on a personal level because x, y, z, what it made you think of, like another fic, a book, a song, a movie, what subject/fact it prompted you to discover more of…

How: 

You can write an essay, a prose, or some serious, meaningful, impactful words but you can also joke with the author as long as you stay mindful or polite. A lot of authors have said they love when people make jokes or break the fourth wall. 

Unsure about your sense of humor? Here is an example: do not write "I hate you! How could you do this to me!” Write "How could you do this? The betrayal! die offscreen.”

Making a parody of what is going on with the characters with a few lines can be funny! Keep it positive. Not everyone has the same degree of sarcasm. But levity and good humor are always welcomed.

Small fics vs longer fics:

Emojis, keysmashing and incoherent yelling are very often correct comments for small fics or drabbles. (Unless otherwise specified.)

They are also loved in longer fics, (unless otherwise specified,) but people who have been writing a story for literal years appreciate you taking at least five minutes to say a bit more than that.

Try to go through all the “about the fic” and “about you” points above, methodically, and choose just two or three of them. Then write just one sentence per point.

If you really don't know what to say, look at other people's comments. Sometimes, you will recognise something you liked too or that you thought was really good. It can help and be the starting point of your own comment.

Long WIPs:

For long fics that you follow while they are being written, people have said they have at first a lot of enthusiasm for commenting, but find it harder and harder to know what to say as the number of chapters accumulate, and so does the number of comments they feel obligated to give in turn.

Please, keep commenting! Love keeps the writers motivated and helps creativity. It’s like shouting in the void and getting a high five back.

Even one line about something specific (a dialogue bit, a reaction, a plot maneuver) can make an author happy.

Writers are not really looking for length or details. They are looking for care. If you read something you liked, just point out what you enjoyed. That's engagement enough. 

Comments aren't really about the act of a compliment. They are about the shared joy of a fandom or a ship or a character. 

Example: “'X character diving headfirst into the sea like that is so like him!”

It’s good. It’s fun. It’s nice.

Some people have said to “save” a chapter, give a kudo and say “looking forward to reading this when I have time!” and wait until they do have time and energy to comment more at length, sometimes two or three chapters at the same time.

It let the writers know their fic is still being read. You just have to be mindful to not let months go by, otherwise, it goes back to leaving the author the impression they invested hours, weeks, months, into something no one interacts with. You can alternate strategies, lengthy comments, short comments, and commenting on several chapters saved.

If all else fails, go back to the tried and true. Choose one of the points above, choose just two or three of them and then write just one sentence per point.

If you are not a native speaker:

Google can help with the bare minimum. It's not great, but it lays the foundations. Write what you think in google translate and the translation will help guide your answer. You can always ask for help from someone else or warn the author that the fic’s language is not your native language, if you are unsure if your words come off in a tone not intended.

At the start of your comment, say “I am not a native speaker”.

Do not apologize. It’s not necessary. Just provide context. Use your words. Be clear.

Remember: 

The writer isn't what they write. They do not necessarily headcanon what they write, nor do they necessarily approve of it in real life. Be mindful to not approve or disprove of x, y, z going on in the fic as if they do. You do not know that.

It’s not about the length or the wording or the quality of your comments. Of course authors love that. But what they love most of all is to hold hands, jump up and down with you and squee and gush about the fandom, ship or character.

It’s about the sharing of the joy.

Don’t:

Do not ask for another chapter and for the author to finish a fic.

Do not threaten the author to put their fics in an AI if they do not finish the fic.

Do not say "I didn't like it" or "I liked but not that" or "It would have been better if x, y, z." If you want to talk about what you didn’t like, whether it’s part or all of the story, discuss it with willing friends. The author is not responsible for you reading something you didn’t enjoy (how it made you feel) and persevering.

Do not “offer” to correct typos, grammar, vocabulary, facts, canon facts, characterisation, ect. unless you know the author and know they are fine with it or they say so explicitly in the notes. 

Do not make demands. Do not.

Like that tumblr op said, “this is not the bespoke zone.” This is off-the rack. If the free suit is not to your liking, look for another free suit rather than demand to speak to the manager for "adjustments."

Tags are not owed to you. Ao3 is not a safe zone. Not everyone agrees on what degree of content merits each tag. Or what qualifies for a tag. So, if you found a fic that was more angsty than you expected and it broke your heart, comment on a part that was good and didn't make you sad, without saying you want a happy ending to the angst fic that was written for angst purpose. Off-the rack, remember?

Exemple:

"I found x,y,z to be upsetting. Would you consider tagging it?"

Vs "Your work is totally x,y,z triggery. You ought to tag it."

Vs "Hey, you do know some people find x,y,z, triggery, right?!? Because they do! So tag it!"

One of those answers is correct. The others aren't. No demands in the comments.

Your emotional well being while reading fic is your responsibility. If your expectations have been disappointed, do not say so. Talk about a point that was positive for you. If your expectations have been exceeded, do share!

Also, if you're mad, I have found that it helps to write your comment, leave it to decant, and wait a week or so to see what it looks like when you're in a different emotional mindset.

Some elements of fics can be very upsetting unexpectedly. It is not the responsibility of the writer to answer that. Nor comments are the place for it.

Once some time has passed, if you still want to talk about it, try to communicate in a way that is neither demanding nor negative. If you can't, talk about it with someone who is not the author.

My own personal opinion:

It can be so easy to focus on the fic and your own inner imaginary garden/cinema, that we sometimes forget to switch from "inner life" to "outer life" and exchange actively with people on both sides of the fence.

But it can also add so much more to the experience <3

Clear communication is always good. Even if you disagree. At least you know where you stand.

Say thank you. Fanfics are a gift. You have been given one. Say thank you. 

[mythicmanuscripts]

i just know that sub!aemond gets really embarassed the first time he properly moans during sex.. like he knows that «only weak guys does that» so he’s really self-concious about it, but after gettibg comfortable it’s ALL he does🤭

I love this!!! I’m always glad to write more soft subby and a little angsty Aemond.

NSFW sub!Aemond below the cut :))

So my first thought when I read this was actually about the time Aegon made Aemond lose his virginity at the brothel? Obviously we know he felt so exposed and vulnerable and never went back or slept with another person until he met you, but I think there’s more to it than that actually.

Obviously he’s nervous, and even though he’s scared it does feel good. He whimpers and moans a little and every time he does the brothel worker chuckles and calls him adorable? But she’s so patronising about it and it just makes Aemond even more uncomfortable.

He doesn’t even consider laying with another again before he meets. Obviously it’s an arranged marriage and he’s very stiff at first, but he gets comfortable and he realises you’ll always care for him and he just finds a safe space.

I think that once Aemond starts to relax and let his walls down, he tends to actually be quite a bit louder? I don’t mean just sexually. I mean when it’s just the two of you and he feels safe and loved then he tends to laugh a lot easier and louder, he’ll also whine more and hum more and just generally be much more expressive. He doesn’t speak as softly either.

As he relaxes he gets louder and he stops being put together. It’s something he doesn’t actually notice and you make a conscious decision not to mention this to him because you know he’ll retreat back into himself if he knew.

And because it takes weeks of just getting to know him and forming a bond before anything sexual happens, you encounter this louder relaxed version of Aemond way before you actually sleep with him. Sometimes he’ll walk into your shared quarters and when he removes his eye patch it’s like you can physically see the weight lifted off his shoulders. He’ll stand there for a moment and then smile wider than he ever does in public and come to join you on the couch or in bed.

When things to get sexual, Aemond struggles to not lose control. I don’t mean fighting you for dominance, because of course we all know he’d never want that, I mean that his head gets all fuzzy and he gets desperate and needy and he so badly wants to just relax against you and let you control him.

The first time you hear him moan is when you’re kissing him and straddling him? Aemond feels like he’s on cloud 9. He’s gripping your hips and panting into your mouth and overwhelmed in all the best ways. You grind your hips down against his crotch and he throws his head back and moans, shaking a little.

It’s quite possibly the hottest thing you’ve heard. But the moment he realises what he’s done he goes stiff and pushes you off. You sit next to him, asking him what’s wrong and he just mumbles he’s sorry and he didn’t mean to do that.

“Didn’t mean to what?” You ask him, pulling him closer and wrapping your arm around his shoulder, “Didn’t mean to feel good?” He blushes and burrows his head in your shoulder in response, clearly embarrassed.

You let it go this time, just letting him relax until he’s asking for more kisses. The make out session ends without much more happening.

The first time you touch his cock, he tries SO hard to stay composed? He’s literally shaking and grinding his teeth to stop himself from making sounds.

You aren’t having it this time though. You pull your hand away and make him look you in the eye and let him know that if wants your attention then he can’t hold back his sounds.

For the next few weeks it seems like every time you do anything sexual for him he only gets louder? Pretty soon he doesn’t even try to stop himself, letting himself whine and moan and beg.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

A Changed Future (2) | Yandere Isekai

Part 1

It’s so irritating for Haruko 

He remembers how he used to try and make noise in the beginning, when the same thing happened to him

But even without your struggling, he’s got more obstacles than he thought

“Tch all these guys getting in our way, maybe I should just kill them.”

“Haru no!”

“Why not, I'm sure you did it when I was trapped.”

“That…that doesn’t make it right!”

“So? Who cares about right when we’re in love? I think it was you who said that.”

Either way with or without your approval he’s figuring out a way to take down his newfound rivals

He kind of hopes they are as ambitious as the friends who recently abandoned him

Too bad they aren’t

In the original story, the crazy thing about the protagonist was that despite their obsessive love for Haruko and general disregard for those who got in the way of that was otherwise really inspiring

Breaking away from their elitist family for their violent morals ironic right

Joining the workforce, easily rising because of their work ethic and intelligence

And all that while beautifully evading a less-than-clean detective trying to pin the blame of random crimes on them

Which of course got them their own male leads attempting to pursue their affections

Always doomed to fall short because of circumstance or the protagonist suavely crushing their hopes to gush about their love

It was a uniquely terrible tragedy for their characters to be written this way

That’s what the random reviewers would say

Which is why you did feel inclined to maybe entertain them a bit more than the original protagonist would have ever done

“Since you are quitting….I hope you’ll let me treat you to dinner. For all your hard work of course.”

“Uh sure but I have to be home by sunset.”

“That’s a shame then we’ll have to—Wait. Did you say you would?”

“Yeah, are you okay?”

“YES! Ahem I mean yes I’m fine! I look forward to a nice evening together!”

Unknowingly furthering the obsession the protagonist was barely keeping at bay

“So mind telling me what you ordered that day at the restaurant?”

“I think it was my favorite dish there called the berry delight but I’m not sure. I think they changed the menu since I was there.”

“Why not confirm it later today? That way you can tell me if you did see the missing classmate of yours.”

“But I don’t remember exactly where I sat–”

“Then we’ll just have to sit in every spot until it rings a bell.”

“I don’t know if that’s–”

“Don’t fret. I’ll be paying but there's no way we’ll get to try every table. We’ll have to come back multiple times.”

“Okay…”

“No worries I’m sure you’ll get tired of eating there so we’ll go to some other places to give you a rest. Anywhere you wanted to try?”

You’d be foolish to think you could escape them by agreeing to Haruko’s entrapping of you 

It only takes a day of you not responding to messages that they both eagerly awaiting you at your door

And after the first few times, Haruko shooing them away they begin to get resourceful

“Yeah bud nice try their still out.”

“Hm well say that to my lovely warrant right here.”

“Wait! H-h-hold on! Geez I-i’ll go get them now but they are not going to be happy with you!”

It really doesn’t get better as the guard against the protagonist’s secrets begins to be let down as interested parties slowly make their way in

You don’t have the same ruthlessness or ability to deceive as the protagonist you took over for 

On top of that you never actually read the webtoon so you’ll be left trying to piece together whatever few weak points the protag has

Where if you hadn’t already started to make your pursuers interested all those faults are fuel for their agenda

“It’s so unfortunate that the company can sign off on your absence during this suspicious crime but I don’t mind editing records if you wouldn’t mind spending time with me. That way I can vet your personality myself. Over wine of course!”

It’s overwhelming constantly being pulled in 3 directions 

What’s worse you’re completely oblivious when the latest obstacle in the protag’s perfect life finally makes themselves known

“Hello darling, it took us years to find you but we did it!”

“Don’t look like that come give your Mama a hug!”

Part 3: Coming Soon

[thecloudsaremyhome]

PART 2 of this ask

Cassandra: Cass wouldn’t know how to honestly process ypur death in all honesty she’s been the cause of hundreds maybe thousands of deaths before she was brought into the family. She didn’t have much of a connection with you at all she always dismissed your presence. But now she regrets doing that she regrets not trying to connect with you she can’t help but let the guilt erupt in her overtaking her mind, body and soul she knows she can’t do anything to turn back time to change things but she does know is she will help bring you back to be the big sister you always craved for she promises. She will do ANYTHING to bring you back.

Stephanie: like dick Steph would immediately be overwhelmed with guilt and hurt once she finds your lifeless body lying in the floor in a pool of your own blood she can’t help but scream in horror as she breaks down and rushes towards your body crying her eyes out and refusing to let you go. She holds you until she’s forced to let go but even then she is sobbing hysterically. No no this can’t be happening she thinks. She can’t loose anyone else she..s-she can’t! Why why why! Just like dick she will be overturned will an immense amount of guilt and hurt. She ignored you ignored your cry’s for help ignored you constantly trying to bond with her trying to seek her attention. What type of sister is she! And now look at you dead lying in the floor no…no she won’t accept this she will have you back she will bring you back no matter the cost…

Barbara: like Tim but less delusional Barbara wouldn’t be able to accept you death at all. She doesn’t think someone actually killed you she just thinks that it’s impossible why would you want to commit suicide? Why? What else does she not know about you? She doesn’t remember havung many interactions with you overall? But she has to know something else about you? The guilt starts to overturn her logical thinking enveloping her mind and body she can’t loose you. Her prescious baby siblings she can’t someone must have murdered you right? You couldn’t leave them leave? Don’t worry though she will bring you back. They will bring you back and you will be a big happy family again it may just take some time! But she’s up for the challenge! Anything to bring you back.

Damian: Damian wouldnt be able to accept your death at all at first. You commit suicide? That’s laughable you can’t leave them you aren’t allow to leave them to leave him seriously what where you thinking? But the more it dawns on him in how much he was involved in your neglect in your pain his mindset starts to change guilt overrides his mind. He…he can’t loose you…not again! He can’t! You’re supposed to be his older siblings HIS. And he will be damn well sure to make sure it stays that way I’m sure his grandfather soundly mind him using the lauzered pit to bring you back jusy like how his grandfather brought back Todd. You’ll never leave him again he will make sure of it. To hell and back he will go to be coddled by his prescious older sibling

Authors note: okay I’m doing a part three with Duke, Alfred and Kate. I know Kate isn’t essentially apart of the family but I still want to add her! Send in requests!