#they're always shaped by their surroundings

[dvchvnde]

Here is where life exists in a shoebox. 

Four walls, the floor, a roof—home. Open the door, step outside, and your house just becomes a box inside of a box. 

Matryoshka. Pop, pop, pop—

You're not sure when the malaise sets in. Ennui, you know, is a gradual thing. A slow trickle—drip, drip drip—that fills the box you live in until you're wading through it to find the door. Day after day. The same thing. Another ant caught in a death match. Round and round you go. 

(claw at every ounce of willpower you have to peel yourself off of the starchy sheets, eyes burning because the more you notice the box, the less you can sleep; misery sets in deep. find a way to get up. food, bills. it all piles up. work. the same slough. the same march. doesn't anyone see that they're in a carnival? just a clown against a cog? ants walking on a conveyor belt where they'll be crushed to death at the end. stigmergy, you suppose, makes everyone blind. but you're clocking out. trudging up the street to go home. surrounded by ants. everyone's an ant. you don't want to go home—

but you do. because where else can you go? home. a box. your meals come in boxes. you put it in the box-shaped microwave. eat it in front of the television (oh, look. another box). mindless. empty. you reach for a drink. wine because only alcoholics drink beer, your mother always said. wine. wine. wine—

from a goddamn box.

your room. your bed. the ceiling you stare at all night. the sun sliding through your window. 

oh, god. when will it end—)

You try to find a way out. Hands grasping out for an escape (for more). 

But when you turn the knob, the push the handle, and step outside—

You're still in a box. 

Drip. drip, drip. 

And then he finds you. Pulls up in a truck with his eyes black circles, holes. His mouth hidden but when he speaks, it's deep, brassy. Robust.

He doesn't ask where you're going or who you are. Just stares and stares and stares until—

"Get in."

[estellardreams]

[Demon King Red AU belongs to @purble-turble] (Lore ramble incoming below)

Okay so... This idea kept circling around in my head and I finally decided to draw it.

Before the question on Lady Bone Demon on the DKR AU, I was always curious on what could've happened if she was ever released.

... At least I'm glad she wasn't. Because if she was then it would've horrifically backfired very quickly.

Taking place mid-season 2 in the timeline, Lady Bone Demon is eventually released by Spider Queen due to discovering the digging site. One thing led to another, she got the key, and released her. Cue the og possessed DBK fight being replaced with a possessed spider queen fight.

This would last for the finale of season one and the opening season two special in terms of time. Once that crashes, LBD retreats into Bai He, infiltrating King Red's council as assistance to return his darling to him.

Now, her main goal at the moment is to grow strong enough to destroy her biggest threats. She assumed King Red wouldn't be a problem.

She was so, so wrong.

King Red was unlike anything she was expecting. Arrogant, paranoid, obsessive, and extremely intelligent. She couldn't even sneak around without cameras glaring her down. Not to mention her and Macaque getting increasingly aggressive with each other over "this bastard put me into this mess" (aka Macaque sided with Red for, one; Wukong and two; to avoid LBD's deal. And LBD for needing to go through the trouble of getting released (even if it was by chance) and jumping between bodies in an attempt to find her perfect match) type of dynamic.

But once LBD regained enough of her power and helped Red "achieve" his destiny of getting his darling MK back, she turns on him.

As the two fight, she begins to take in some of his power, growing stronger by the sheer fierceness of the fire. Her form stabilized rapidly and just as she was able to physically remain out of Bai He's body, the two strike at the same time...

Causing a cataclysmic soul fusion. Macaque rushes to rescue Bai He and brings her out of harms way, hiding from the smoldering figure.

There's no more King or Lady. A new being remained.

And they were even worse than anyone could've anticipated.

So yeah... Mini plot aside on this hypothetical they can control both fire and ice. Though the fire is now blue and the ice is extremely cold. They're two extremes fighting for balance with their only anchor being to shape the world into an image they desire.

Although LBD isn't fond of MK, Red absolutely is and that part overpowers hers, making them absolutely obsessing over their love. To the point that once they got him back, he was locked up in a room of nearly impenetrable ice for his safety. The space is well hidden in the fortress that many rescue attempts have failed because of it.

And Macaque, oh Macaque... His plan backfired in the worst way because not only was he now FORCED to work for his new ruler, but also anytime he tried to escape or step out of line he'd get punished severely. With Red's half being okay with using physical force (though preferring technology to subdue) and LBD holding seething anger towards the shadow monkey for abandoning her, you get a recipe for pretty severe physical abuse. Think of broken bones, frostbite and second degree burns.

And then you got everyone else, who were all forced to evacuate lest they get swallowed up by the raging blue fires and ice spikes taking over the city. After all, you gotta destroy everything to start over, right?

Which leaves us with this turnout: Megapolis and many surrounding lands have become uninhabitable, both MK and Macaque are tortured in the fortress, and there's an extremely powerful soul fusion of two demonic figures with their worst traits amplified and bouncing off of each other.

The Monkie Kids are mainly hiding out wherever possible, most of the time at Flower Fruit Mountain in an attempt to avoid the carnage. Now, their only hope is to find the samadhi fire to vanquish the Lady Bone Demon from King Red... Then, they gotta deal with the other problem.

Not a perfect plan, but it'll hopefully work out, right?

[Edit: Okay I think I'll just call this the Charcoal Bone King AU it's got a nice ring to it anyway]

[mcjhay]

I will never change my personality to make someone love me. I am who I am, and I refuse to reshape myself to fit into someone else's expectations or standards of love. True love, the kind that lasts, isn't built on pretense or falsehoods. It's built on authenticity, on being accepted for exactly who you are, flaws and all. And if someone can't love me for the person I am, then that love isn't meant for me.

I've come too far in life to lose myself trying to gain someone else's approval. I've learned that pretending to be someone I'm not only leads to pain, emptiness, and a hollow version of myself. My personality is not a costume I can take on and off to please others; it's the very essence of who I am. It's shaped by my experiences, my values, my passions, and my beliefs. To change that would be to deny everything that makes me unique, everything that makes me me.

I am not perfect—| don't claim to be. I have my quirks, my flaws, and my vulnerabilities. But I also have my strengths, my kindness, and my unwavering capacity to love deeply and genuinely. I know my worth, and I know that I deserve to be loved for the person I truly am, not for some version of me that conforms to someone else's idea of perfection.

If I have to change my personality to make someone love me, then that love isn't real. Real love doesn't demand that I silence my voice, dull my light, or hide the parts of myself that make me different. Real love celebrates those differences, embraces them, and sees them as beautiful. It's about two people coming together as they are, without masks or pretenses, and choosing to love one another fully and unconditionally. I've learned that trying to change for someone else only leads to losing myself. It leaves me questioning my own worth, doubting my own value, and wondering why I wasn't "enough" just as I am. But the truth is, l am enough. l've always been enough. And the right person—the one who truly sees me will know that. They'll love me not despite my personality but because of it.

So I won't apologize for being me. I won't apologize for my sensitivity, my passion, my honesty, or my quirks. I won't tone myself down to make someone more comfortable, and I won't pretend to be something I'm not just to earn someone's affection. If I'm too much for someone, then they're simply not the person for me. And that's okay, because I'd rather be alone and true to myself than surrounded by people who only love a version of me that isn't real.

I will stay true to who I am because I believe that the right kind of love—the kind that lasts and fulfills—is built on honesty and authenticity. It's built on two people seeing each other completely, flaws and all, and choosing to love each other anyway. I know that kind of love exists, and I know it's worth waiting for. So no, I will never change my personality to make someone love me. I deserve a love that accepts me, cherishes me, and values me for exactly who I am. And until I find that love, I will keep being me, unapologetically and wholeheartedly. Because the right person won't ask me to change—they'll love me for exactly who I am. And that kind of love is the only kind worth having. May those of us who are single find true love❤️

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

It tugs, sometimes. Curious and foolish.

That traitorous heart mana of his, reaching out, drawing in, seeking connection in the way that's in their blood, their soul, their nature. Synchronicity.

Rei's not known it, before.

Where other demons might be attuned to family, Rei has no one to claim the spot. So, his heart mana sings, unblemished, its lonely little sonata, the song of his homeland. All there is to him, granted by air and earth and starlight.

He has so much to give, and yet, it isn't good enough. Discordant, they say. Human, they snarl, disgust evident in their tones.

Thus, growing up Rei learns to compose himself. Pushes himself to the brink in order to rewrite his heartbeat's melody. Puts himself out there, gets stronger, richer in experience, whenever he draws back. Over and over and over again.

Until one day, pushing himself past reason, he almost doesn't return.

But while he hasn't been looking, a new melody has taken residence by his side. Soft and steady high notes, barely perceptible.

Morofushi Hiromitsu, faded, yet giving himself so generously.

Rei hears him, takes him in and amplifies the notes he's given, until others may do so, too. Until Hiro may do it himself.

Their hearts mana, separate but inseparable, resonating in response.

And Rei's called back home.

.

Rye is low notes, a deep bass, slow and steady.

He could enrich their harmony, if only he wasn't so gratingly offbeat.

Rye's unrefined and ever-contradicting himself. Cold and uncaring, yet bleeding red like the rest of them. A long-ranged combatant, always too close. The smartest fool Rei ever has had the displeasure of meeting.

He takes Rei's heart mana greedily, gives it back tenfold.

Then he takes Scotch's, and their tentative song, not yet given voice, dissolves into dissonant whispers.

.

When they meet again, Rei doesn't want to feel Akai's heart mana for the longest time.

It's too painfully familiar, echoes of the past still trapped reverberating within. Misery-in-resonance almost dusts Rei.

It's his duty to be here, and so he stays, but there's others to preoccupy himself with.

So, he remains a careful distance away from Akai. Doesn't see the muted melancholy wrapped around him until it's too late, until Akai's almost gone dark and quiet.

When he heals Akai, he pours all of his heart mana into him. Their hearts still sing the same tune, after all these years, discordant notes and all.

.

The journey is too perilous to allow them senseless grudges. Their lives are one. If either falls, the story ends.

They rely on each other's mana like air, sharing desperate breaths like drowning men in a land that wants to drag them under.

What even is left of their individual songs? It doesn't matter, anymore. They've shared so much it really is one and the same, disjointed notes smoothed out through time and touch and trial, into an elegy for Scotch.

.

As they finally reach tentative harmony, they rip themselves apart.

.

There is dissonance in Demon Lord Furuya’s heart. A furious ache that even Hiro's return can't soothe.

But he has a duty, to his land and his people. He can't stop to rest. Besides, the one to replenish his heart mana, he who's grown so good at it over the years, has left, exiled by Rei's own hand.

Akai is a fool, but so is Rei.

He clings to the thrum of Akai's low warm notes, barely an echo within himself.

.

Da capo al coda, the cyclical rhythm of life remains the same.

Rei's still not good enough.

He's bested their best. He's saved the realms. And all that matters, in the end, is that they see his heart mana, and find it lacking.

But he's no longer the lonely manaspawn he once was. His song no longer just his own.

He's holding the position through skill and strategy, through force of personality. With the help of friends and allies gathered on his journey.

They'll have to listen to his tune, this time.

.

The key, of course, is an argument.

Their feverish crescendo crashes into mellow adagio - along with their lips.

Rei knows, then: if no one else accepted him, the boundless love in Akai's heart would be enough to supply his heart mana for as long as he lives.

It's exhilarating, to share every last bit of himself, to accept all of Shuuichi in turn. Synchronized in full, for now and as long as they live.

Pulsating, between them, the potential to compose a new melody, together. Point and counterpoint. Bright and warm and vibrant and home.

.

When he takes Akai's hand, leads him to the dancefloor, the festive joy of friends and family soaking the ambient mana with joyous ringing, it's enough to put pressure even on Rei's heart mana.

He can't help thinking that this should've been so much easier. But theirs has never been the easy way.

And it's not the conclusion, but the overture to their new life, together.

The waltz of their future, a thunderous symphony.

.

@floofiestboy's Demon King Furuya AkAm AU is giving me too many feelings. Go read it here.

[byanyan]

aaaand tonight i'm thinking about how byan was originally meant to be this irredeemable little shitbag who was a problem just to be a problem... but now they're a lot more sympathetic and much more just this traumatized kid who's been done so dirty their whole life. like, they're still not a great person or anything, but it's a lot more out of necessity than actual nature...

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

SHAPE HELLO IT IS ME!!!! CALLI CUBITOZINC!!!!!!! So erm. gonna be honest dude i fought with myself in my head so hard on what i wanted to send for this especially cause i didn't want it to be silly or stupid but you know what. Who give a shit. and i have been there when it comes to having to fight for writing motivation... boy have i ever. SO!! feel free to run with this prompt if you get any ideas from it but absolutely no pressure :]

"Jaiden spent uncountable moments these days thinking about what kinds of things she could've done in the past."

HI CALLI HII BELOVED MUTUAL CALLIIII . i have never written a jaidn before but for you.... i will try.

Jaiden spent uncountable moments these days thinking about what kinds of things she could've done in the past.

Or- maybe they weren't uncountable? They were probably countable, if she'd cared enough to count, but it hadn't occurred to her to count them when she started, and so she'd lost count of them from the beginning, so. Uncountable.

...There's something almost sad about that. Losing track of things since the beginning, no hope of catching up to the present. No chance to right the now because of the wrongs of the past. It makes her heart ache in her chest to think about, but she can't- she can't stop thinking about it. She keeps poking at it, like a bruise, but a sideways bruise. Look at these flowers, they look just like the ones in Bobby Fields. Drink this tea, it's just like the tea Cucurucho gives her. Look at Roier, smiling at Cellbit, and then quietly leave them to be happy. It's...

One thing that's different, from the then to the now, is how many houses she has. One for each piece of her heart, all of them missing something. Does the party house count as one of hers, too? What about the room she stayed in while helping the Cucuruchos? She wants to say yes. It hurts to think yes. If she said yes, if she went there to call for him, would he still leave her waiting?

...She knows the answer. Part of her wishes that she didn't. More of her knows that it's better that she does. It's like playing pretend, and you need to know when you're playing pretend. She knows how often she plays pretend, and how often she pretends that she isn't, and she remembers the time that she didn't have to and she wants that back so badly that it hurts.

Like a bruise. Poke, poke, poke. She knows she's being manipulated, and still she leans into it. Is it helping? Who is she helping? If Cucurucho is hurting, can she really help him? Can she free him? Is it worth it? Is it about worth, or is it about waste? Is it about anything?

Jaiden groans and throws her arm over her face. Maybe it's about laying in the warm pink sand on Hot Girl Beach while Mouse and Foolish chatter behind her. Maybe it's about leaving her empty houses and keeping her hair dyed Miku-blue and doing what she can, because she can. Maybe it's about tailing along with Foolish whenever he gets more silly Cucurucho tasks. Maybe it's about- whatever else is fun. Whatever else keeps her occupied, and out of bed, and waving goodnight to the sun.

There, is that another one of her uncountable moments? No, probably not, she hadn't done much thinking about the past. She could do that. She could think about Bobby and his raccoons, and Bobby and flowers, and Bobby and the very first painting he made for her.

Like a bruise. Poke, poke, poke. She's almost afraid of finding out what will happen if she lets it heal.

...That's enough angst for the day. The sun will be setting soon, and she wants to say goodnight to Bobby with a genuine smile. She pulls her arm off her face and sits up to turn to her friends, join in on their fun.

Her houses are empty, but she knows how to pretend that she has a home.

[plushie-lovey]

Just ignore the haters - my brothers have huge collections of stuff like video game related and nobody says anything. They're having to sell some of it because of space but someone commented they thought the bedroom in the photo background was a shop because that's what it looks like lol. I have a bookcase of dolls and miniatures and my mom is like that's too much, it's weird, you're an adult etc so annoying

That sounds sooo cool. Your brothers are lucky they can get away with collecting so much and not get judged for it

It really is annoying when parents and other people make comments about how strange a toy collecting hobby is though, huh? For the most part I do try to ignore the haters. But I have crappy self esteem, so when somebody makes comments about my plushie collection sometimes it makes me uncomfortable and self conscious. But plushies make me happy, and there's so few things in this world that can bring me only pure joy. So I try to focus on how I feel about stuffed animals and not what others think or feel about them. They can go be miserable somewhere else, I'm gonna sit here and have fun with my toys. Nobody should say anything about what makes others happy, as long as its not smth harmful (which this definitely isn't).

[hoffmansgirl]

𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐂𝐇 ━ father charlie mayhew

★ warnings: nsfw content ahead!! making out, blasphemy, slutty!reader, they're both horny as fuck (sorry not sorry...), handjob, oral (m!receiving), face fucking, use of "daddy" like once or twice, use of "father" during sex, unprotected p in v, slight size kink?? lmk if i missed something

☆ note: my first attempt at smut and... not sure how i feel? other than that, it's my first fanfic on tumblr!!! feedback is deeply appreciated, enjoy :)

!! english is not my first language !! ౨ৎ

She knew he craved for her the way she craved for him.

The way her eyes followed him as he spoke, the way a little smile tugged at the corner of her lips every time their eyes met. The way he looked at her with a lust so deep that he couldn't comprehend it. The way he got nervous every time she walked through that big, heavy door in her ridiculously short skirts, making him unable to focus.

She was there every day, watching him, waiting for the perfect time to get to his head. But he never let her. He always left the platform before she could even take a step forward.

Yet he couldn't stop thinking about her. In the night, when he was all alone, he wrapped a hand around his cock and pumped, her pretty face in his mind, as he came hard each time.

Let's say, he was getting pretty good at avoiding her.

It was until, after the Sunday mass, she came up to him and said: “I would like to confess” confidently, even though hesitation could be heard in her soft voice. Everyone else left the church, and it was only them now. The thought made her heart skip a beat.

Father Charlie smiled at her, trying not to look at her exposed legs. She was teasing him, with her ridicolously short skirts and cut-low tops. Her pretty, almond-shaped eyes scanned over his face, and he felt his pants getting tighter every passing second.

“Of course. Come to my office at 8”, he cleared his throat, eyes leaving her small form only to wander around the walls of the church. Suddenly he felt nervous by her presence and the effect she had on him. She bit her pretty glossed lip and he swore he could come just at the sight of her. This little, slutty sinner. He thought about bending her over the bench and fucking the confidence out of her.

“Thank you, Father”, she replied and nodded her head, and then she left. Her voice caused him to take a deep breath; he didn’t realise he was holding it in. Her smell surrounding him, and he inhaled deeply: the smell of vanilla, tobacco and a little bit of her making his head spin.

“Lust is a sin”, he mumbled, closing his eyes, but then he saw her; on her knees, all submissive, taking his cock deep in her mouth. Her face when he made her cum, the way her pretty tits bounced if he let her take control and ride on him. Father Charlie opened his eyes immidiately, and his eyes brimmed with tears. “God, forgive me”.

Y/N knocked on his office door exactly at 8 p.m. She was wearing a short, black skirt, long-sleeved top that barely covered her boobs, a leather jacket and platform boots. She bit her lip nervously when she heard his voice from inside: a raspy “Come in”, that made her heart skip a bit, and she twisted the doorknob.

“Good evening, Y/N”. The way he looked at her made her want to clench her thighs together. His eyes scanned over her legs, and then her boobs, and finally, they settled on her pretty face. She smiled at him, confidently, and replied: “Good evening, Father”.

She sat down in the chair across of him and crossed her legs.

“You know, I thought this should be done in a confessional” She noticed after a while of silence, and he leaned down on the desk, playing with his ring. The sight made her want to clench her thighs together, but she stopped herself from doing so. She knew he would immidiately notice.

“It should be, yes”, he confessed, and then took a deep breath. “But you’re not here to confess, aren’t you, angel?”

The nickname made her eyes widen, but she nodded her head and replied: “Correct, Father. I just wanted it to be us two.”

Her boldness should disgust him, but it only made her more attractive in his eyes. She has to be the devil, he thought, and, once again, felt his pants getting tighter. Her eyes followed his every move, observing his reaction.

"Maybe you should confess, though." he said, keeping his attentive eyes on her. Y/N ran a hand through her black hair, her rings and bracelets glistening in the dim sunlight peeking through the window. "Tell me, angel, what's going on in that little head of yours?"

"I have sinned, Father." she confessed immediately, her lips curled into a little smile. She should feel ashamed. Disgusted by herself. Yet all she felt was excitement. She was obsessed with him, and now it was her chance to get him. Y/N wet her lips, her mind going blank at the sight of him, leaning against his desk, sitting here nonchalantly, his brown eyes following the movement of her tongue against her lip.

"I have been... pleasuring myself... and thinking about someone I shouldn't be thinking about. Not like that." Y/N's cheeks burned, but she continued, she needed to get this off her chest. She didn't dare looking at him, suddenly feeling ashamed. "I've been hooking up with some guys at parties, imagining it was him instead. Manhandling me. Claiming me. Marking me."

For the first time in a while, Father Charlie was in a loss of words. He shifted in his seat, leaning against the back of the chair, studying her pretty face. She looked so angelic, her tiny form making it hard for him to control himself. Of course she has been thinking about him. He felt excitement run through his veins at the images popping up in his head. Y/N, just in her pretty black lacy panties, her fingers inside of her puffy, leaking pussy, face twisted with pleasure. He swore he could almost hear her pretty moans as she came, "please, Father, I'm close" leaving her pouty pink lips.

Y/N thought she heard a little whisper coming out of his mouth, but she couldn't quite tell what he was saying. His eyes pierced into hers, as he got up from his seat and ringed around the desk. His steps were careful, predatory, as she kept his stare without flinching. Y/N pressed her back against the chair, her shirt lifting up just slightly, but he noticed. His face followed her chest, and his eyes' light up.

"Tell me more. Tell me everything you think about when you lay in your bed at night, pleasuring yourself at the thought of me."

She dared to look up at him, and she was taken aback by the sudden closeness. He was towering over her, his lip between his teeth, his left hand finding place on the arm of the chair she was sitting in.

She shuddered when Charlie's hot breath tickled her ear, but she didn't back off. His mouth was suddenly on her collarbone, licking her skin, humming to himself at the taste and smell of her. Y/N moaned quietly, and she tilted her head back, closing her eyes at the sudden pleasure.

His right hand found itself tangled in her long hair, and he pulled, making the small girl under him whine again. His other hand running over her pretty breasts, up to her collarbone, stopping on her neck. He squeezed the sides of it, and she closed her eyes, whimpering oh so prettily. His touch cautious, teasingly slow, as he breathed heavily, in awe at the sight in front of him. She was a mess and he barely touched her. Charlie chuckled, the low sound vibrating against the thick air surrounding them, and both of his hands left her body as he backed off, leaving her cold and desperate.

"You're such a little slut, you know that, angel? Teasing me with these short skirts of yours, staring at me during the masses, distracting me. You thought I wouldn't notice?" He tutted, leaning against the closest wall, his strong arms crossing on his chest. Her eyes followed him, and she got up, desperation visible in her every move. The degrading nickname echoed in her mind, the wetness between her legs getting unbearable.

"I wanted you to notice, Charlie", she used his first name, causing his whole body to shiver, as she took big step towards him, pinning him to the wall. She touched his muscular shoulders, her delicate fingers moving down his chest. "You can't imagine how long I've wanted this. I want to make you feel good, Father. Please, let me", she whispered, looking at him through her lashes, her lips dangerously close to his own. Charlie's eyes followed her mouth as she spoke, his dark irises sparkling with desire, as he felt completely dominated by the tiny girl in front of him. A strange feeling sparkled in his chest, but he didn't have time to think about it, as Y/N run her hand over the bulge in his pants.

The sudden intrusion on his pulsing member caused Charlie to moan, his head falling against the wall with a loud thud. Y/N's hand now stroking him through his dress pants, her breathing growing heavier by each passing second as she observed his reactions. Her mouth twitched into a satisfied smile, her thumb just barely running over his leaking tip, and he fucking whimpered.

She backed off just as he did minutes ago, still smiling from ear to ear, as his eyes met hers again. The next thing she felt was his lips on hers, as he devoured her, his hot tongue in her mouth almost immediately. The kiss was rough, both of them fighting for dominance, as she tugged at his hair, his greedy hands on her ass, pulling at the flesh, feeling of her soft skin almost too much for him. Charlie lifted one of Y/N's legs, holding it up on his hip, as he felt her much smaller body melting into his own. The moment their crotches met, and she grinded, a synchronised moan vibrating against the thick air surrounding them. Y/N pulled back from the kiss, catching her breath, but never pulling away from him completely.

His forehead pressed against hers, as he closed his eyes, breathing heavily. Her mouth found his again, but this time, it was softer, the feelings she had for him finally taking over her, as she kissed him as if her life depended on it. They moved slowly, without a single worry in the world, her hands on his chest, as his own found place on her lower back.

"Let me take you to my room", Father Charlie mumbled under his breath, eyes full of something she couldn't quite name.

Y/N nodded, and the next thing she knew was Charlie dragging her through the long corridor, his steps hurried. He shut the door to his room behind them loudly, and he kissed her again, his hands tugging at her black top, desperate to take the excess clothing off her body.

Charlie pushed her on the bed, and took a second to adore her bare tits. Her nipples already erect, reacting to the cold air in the room, and he couldn't stop himself from getting on top of her, leaving bruises all over her neck.

"No bra? You really planned all of this, didn't you? You are just a desperate little slut, begging to be fucked, aren't you, Y\N?" he whispered in her ear, leaving a big, wet kiss under it, and she moaned. She arched her back as his mouth closed around one of her nipples. Charlie swirled his tongue around the hard nub, and a hum left his mouth at the taste of her. He looked at her through his thick eyelashes, his innocent stare making Y/N grind on him again and again.

He moved to her other nipple, and she tugged at his dress shirt, silently begging him to take it off. He obliged, using one hand to undo the buttons, while his lips sucked on her pretty boob, never stopping his movements.

When his shirt fell to the floor, Y/N flipped Charlie over and sat down on his torso. He hissed when his back met the soft sheets, and for a second, his face grimaced in pain. She furrowed her brows, both of her hands on his hard chest, her hair on her face.

"What's wrong?" she immediately asked, her tits bouncing in front of his face as she moved downward to have a better look at him.

"Nothing you have to worry about, pretty girl". His soft hands touched her face, and she smiled at the compliment, taking a mental note to ask about that later.

"Let me take care of you", she said again, caressing his chest with her little hands, and she let their lips meet again.

Charlie melted into her touch, forgetting about the pain, his hand in her hair, as she kissed him slowly and passionately. Soon after the kiss turned messy, a dirty exchange of saliva, teeth crashing, tongues meeting in a nasty dance, as he lifted her skirt and started grinding his hard cock against her pretty, panties covered cunt.

She whimpered on top of him, back arching, but his lips never left hers. Her hands tugged at his hair, their lips separating. He could feel the wetness of her pussy against his hard on as she grinded against him, moving her hips in such way that had him breathless, his own member leaking with pre-cum.

She stopped her movements and immediately started to undo the button of his dress pants, and he moaned when she accidentally pressed her palm at his cock.

"Let me take care of you, Father", the blasphemous words leaving her mouth again, and all he could do was nod. His eyes pleading, and if it wasn't for the heat of the moment, he would be embarrassed of his own submission.

Y/N truly was the devil himself, he thought, as she took off his pants and boxers and laid down between his legs.

She licked her lips at the sight of him: she could already feel how big he was while grinding him, but seeing him, oh Lord, he was so big. He was definitely much above average. His slightly curved cock, tip leaking with precum, and the whole length contracted when she moved her lips closer.

"You have such a pretty cock, Charlie", she admitted wholeheartedly, her mouth watering, as he just stared at her, the praise making him even harder. She then took his cock in her hand and began slowly stroking his length, her thumb brushing against his angry red tip. Charlie's back arched as she finally touched him, his eyes closing at the contact.

"Oh... Oh, God", he whines, his mouth dropping open as she finally closed her mouth around him, struggling to take him in fully. She began bobbing her head on his tip slowly, and she hummed at the salty taste of his pre cum. "You're so big, Father", she moaned and then kitten licked at the underside of his cock, her tongue barely grazing over his tight balls.

All he could do was groan lowly, not a single thought in his head, as he thrusted his hips toward her face.

She began bobbing her head on him, his cock disappearing deeper and deeper into her mouth with each bob of her head. Charlie's hands found place in her silky, black hair, as he moved his hips, all of his self control leaving his body.

"Yes, angel. You're doing such a good job for me", she whined around his cock at the praise, her nails digging into his muscular thighs, as he thrusted into her mouth over and over again. "You have no idea how long I've thought about this, how many times I pumped my cock at the thought of you", his head fell back against the pillow as he murmured nonsense, his thrusts against her face getting more aggressive.

Y/N choked and gagged on his cock, only spurring him on more, and tears were streaming down her face, her makeup ruined, and her thighs clenched together at the sound of his pretty moans.

Charlie's cock twitched in her mouth, and she looked up at him, his own eyes already on her. His mouth was slightly opened, sweat covering his hard chest and forehead, the sight of his messy, soft hair making her moan around him.

"Cum down my throat, Father", she took her mouth of him only to whisper those words to him, her hand still pumping his twitching length, and in the moment he swore he could see stars, as his orgasm was getting closer and closer.

Then, as she put all of him in her mouth, and he was a lost man. His back arched as he pulled at her hair, her nose brushing against his soft, curly pubic hair as she deepthroated him through his orgasm.

Thick ropes of cum covered the back of her throat, and she gagged, slowly working her mouth over him until he collapsed on the bed, his chest heaving with deep breaths, whimpers leaving his pretty mouth. She swallowed all of his cum, the taste of him on her tongue making her shiver. His eyes never left his face, and he nodded in approval when she stuck her tongue out to show that she swallowed all of his cum. How could she not? In that moment she knew that she absolutely adored every part of him.

Charlie's still hard cock hit his stomach loudly as she got up from between his legs, and straddled him once again.

"You taste so good, Charlie", Y/N whispered, leaving kisses all over his neck and collarbones. His hands found her hips, as she pulled her panties to the side and grinded down on him. They both moaned at the contact, her wetness making it easy for her to grind down on his spit-covered length.

"God made you just for me", he hissed as she grounded down on him, his eyes full of adoration and awe, and she smiled, her brows furrowing because of the pressure on her puffy clit. "Are you an angel or the devil? Hmm?" his voice soft like butter when he flipped her over and surrounded her with his big arms, his tip just barely grazing over her entrance.

"I can be whatever you want me to be, Father", she replied breathlessly but wholeheartedly, chasing his cock with her leaking pussy, making a mess on his white sheets. Charlie smiled at her, and the next second she felt his fat tip finally stretching her out.

They both moaned in unison, and she clawed at his scarred back, and he groaned in pain and pure bliss.

"'S too big", she mumbled, her hair creating a halo around her head, and Charlie never stopped thrusting his length into her, his big hands holding her hips in place.

"I know you can take it, come on. You begged for it, so take it like the little good girl you are, can you, Y/N?" he taunted, his voice dangerously low as he felt her clench around him. She nodded and moaned as she felt him oh so deep. The pain and pleasure mixed, her vision blurred with tears of pure bliss as she whimpered.

"God, fuck me. Please, please, take me however you want, Father", she begged as her eyes rolled back, his own moan echoed through the thin walls. And that's when he buried himself in her to the hilt.

YN's back arched, tears blurring her vision, as he whimpered, his hand leaving her hip to find its place on her exposed neck.

He pressed on her neck, hard, cutting her airflow, fucking harder into her tight pussy, and she cried, and in that moment he thought that she was the most beautiful woman he's ever seen in his life.

"Daddy...."

He heard her whimper, her hands clawing at the ruined sheets, as she looked up at him, completely ruined just for him to see. He groaned at the vulgar nickname leaving her mouth, his thrusts getting deeper, stronger, as she screamed in pleasure.

"You're a nasty little girl, aren't you, Angel?" he asked and chuckled when he saw her attempting to respond. "See that?"

Charlie took his hand off her neck and she took a deep breath, his hand finding place in her hair next. He yanked Y/N's head up and made her look down, onto the place where they were connecting over and over again.

The visible bulge in her stomach made her eyes roll back into her head, the sight so vulgar that she felt herself getting nearer and nearer to her orgasm.

"I'm gonna breed you so deep, Angel. You won't ever be able to look at another man again. You're mine now. I'm gonna pump you nice and full of my cum and you're gonna take it like a good girl, aren't you?" he mumbled, his own end near, and she nodded her head, his hips flat against the back of her thighs.

"Please, I need it, Charlie. Make me cum", her voice barely a whisper, mascara smudged all over her cheeks, and Charlie kissed her with all the strength he had left, her hands around his neck as he held her hips in his hands.

His thrusts strong and sloppy as his whole body started to shake, her walls squeezing him tightly as she came with a loud moan of his name, and he followed immediately after.

He kept on thrusting into her, fucking her through his orgasm, their lips never separating as they came down from their highs together.

An hour later she was tangled in his sheets, his arm around her, thumb tracing little circles on her arm while they cuddled. YN's head on his chest, she was sleeping peacefully, but his mind was full of doubt and guilt. He knew he would have to punish himself for their sins. But she was worth it. He felt his chest tighten, and he placed a delicate kiss on her forehead.

When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of her sweet smile, and never before in his life has he slept so peacefully.

[yeyinde]

The 141 finding out you've never had sex.

Just casually drinking, playing cards. A joke causes it to slip out.

body electric: the virgin edition

Gaz, the instigator, mutters something about not having been fucked in ages. this springs up a sudden surge of comradery, because, yeah. neither have they.

Soap's devote Catholicism (i like to imagine) leaves little room for flippant intimacy. he tries to be a good boy. key word, of course, being: tries. but the last serious relationship was years ago. back when he was grunt. he's pent up. abstinence, yeah? he holds it tight in his hand. but the thing about fists is that they're often mistaken for anger. Soap's a realist masquerading as an optimist. he knows whoever falls into his jowls next will be a MacTavish by the time he's through with them. and commitment. well. his comes at a price. a hefty one.

Ghost prefers casual flings where he doesn't have to take any clothes off. unzips his trousers, frees his cock, and then tries to pretend he's a real, flesh and blood, human. to feel something, anything, except a vacuum between hollow bones. but his tastes are peculiar. on the side of unhinged. he hasn't found the perfect body yet satiate himself with.

Price. well. with his bloody hands, he thinks he'd rather not dirty the same people he swears to protect. and divorcing at the age of 30 does that to a man, maybe. his role as a captain (an excuse in retrospect) also keeps him from unleashing his wants. the very same ones that are probably best under lock and key, anyway. it's just for the best, really. something he ought to do because the moment he has another chance to sink his teeth into someone's neck, he'll tear them apart. break them into pieces.

despite bringing it up, Gaz knows the real reason he's single is because he's pushy. he wants. so he takes. and then takes some more. more. more. until his gullet is full of the person he's obsessed with. carrying them around in his breast pocket everywhere he goes. the perfect mate. the one he can shower with unfettered affection. a deluge, in all honesty. one with the ideation to drown. biblical floods. trapped beneath him. he likes it more than he should, but. singedom, then, he supposes.

and then you roll the dice. admit, sheepishly, that, technically, you have them all beat. zero is always lesser than five, ten, twenty. but it's this misstep—zero, never—that catches their attention.

suddenly, you're not surrounded by kin but a pack of wolves. all hungry in their own ways, all starving. it just makes sense to quench their hunger with you, doesn't it? friend, ally. pretty little thing. so sweet for them. and perfectly mouldable. putty they shape to their hearts desire. the perfect mate.

Soap grips his rosary. the sign of the cross, heavenly Father and Holy Spirit, digging into his palm like the burn of a baptism. what's devotion if not pain? he cuts himself on the gold. offers blood of the sacrament to whoever might be listening, and leans in, sniffing.

Price's knuckles are white. he leans back, hidden in shadows. all you can see is spark of burning orange from his cigar as he takes mouthful after mouthful of smoke, contemplating. assessing.

"that so?" he doesn't even need to look at his Lieutenant to know that the man has gone still. too bad for you, it's not from shock.

Ghost barely holds himself back. keeps tight in his seat. fists clenching. unclenching. he has a good enough read on the people around him to see the unfiltered desire ripping across their face. scorching. but to bite, with his mouthful of jagged, seraded teeth; ones meant to rip, break, tear, would ruin you. permanently. unequivocally. and—

"wanna give it a go?" all eyes turn to Gaz, electric in his seat. eyes smouldering umbre. "i mean, you trust us the most, don't you?" us. it's stunning, he thinks, the way Gaz can weave tapestry in the air like this with just his words. one tangled like shibari binds. "and we care for you a lot. we'll be gentle. it's up to you, of course, but—"

Soap's bloody hand disappears under the table. you gasp. "yer askin' fer it, ain't ye? beggin' so pretty fer it."

"n-no, i—"

"mind your manners." Price. his voice is chiselled into char, authoritative; low. a lulling command spoken in a breath of smoke. "and don't lie, love. or i'll have to take you over my knee."

the tension is thick. Soap's arm moves, slow. deliberate. Ghost has clench his jaw to avoid bearing his teeth. snarling.

Gaz cuts it with a knife. hews compliance into your skin with a fine needle point. "it's okay. we'll take such good care'a you. make you feel so good."

your submission is a heavy thing. oppressive. the shallow dip of your chin, the blistering heat simmering under your flesh, burning right, is the prettiest fuckin' thing he's ever seen. he does clench his jaw this time. tight, tight. tight

until something pops.

"okay." you yield. head bowed. beautifully submissive.

when he looks around, catches the predatory crackle in the air. his hackles raise. immediate. instinctual. and ah, right.

it's easy to forget he's surrounded by a wild pack of stray dogs. starving ones, too.

[mcondance]

come close; hobie brown

getting high and talking about anarchy with some old 90's shit playing is a crazy way to fall for someone. but it happens.

pairing hobie brown x Black!afab!fem! reader

contents lots of weed, different terms for weed (mary jane, cess), talks of killing politicians (y’all r both anarchists so.), masturbation (both you and hobie), making out, fingering, riding, missionary, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex (they're horny man dwbi), dirty talk, cervix kissing, lotsssss of praise, porn with plot (sorry i love plot 🙏🏾)

words 4.7k.. back on my longer fic shit!

warnings reader wears lipgloss, barely proofread so if you see any mistakes pls shoot me an ask!, umm i use the n word once!, i’m also,, not that great at writing his voice yet so.. hope it’s at least sorta accurate :3

extras the form i wrote this in is kinda,, unique igs but it flows rlly well i feel.

song shoutouts special thanks to lipstick lover by janelle monae, come close by common and mary j. blige, and green eyes by erykah badu!

signing off happy father’s day to hobie 🫶🏾

—

not quite plug!hobie, but hobie who always has weed, who you smoke with the first time you buy from him.

you usually don’t smoke with randoms, but you hear some old 90's rap playing from inside his car, and he invites you in when you comment on it.

"what you know bout this?" you ask with a smile.

"a lot, actually. you wanna smoke and listen?"

not quite plug!hobie who's fine as fuck as he sits opposite you in his ride, tall and darkskin with cool ass hair. wild ass accent and even wilder style, but he makes it work. his music taste adds on to his overall allure.

but his political views? god. the charm in the shape of a little 'a' surrounded by a circle hanging from his mirror lets you know that he ain't like these other niggas.

he's an anarchist. so far, you're the only anarchist you know. it's so rare to find someone who has the same values as you.

not quite plug!hobie who's car you leave with music recs clumsily typed into your notes, and someone to talk about politics with, though you're too shy to text the pretty boy with the good weed, so you're sure it'll never happen.

not quite plug!hobie who texts you when you get home to make sure you arrived safely.

"driving while high ain't safe, ya know? you at home?"

"i've done it before. i made it home."

not quite plug!hobie who's so nice to you, complimenting your outfits and hair, even noticing when you meet him the 3rd time with a new style.

not quite plug! hobie who you find out has been giving you discounts when your friends ask if you ever bought from him after their recommendation, and you run them in on the details. you think it’s just cause y’all smoked the first time you ever bought from him and you bonded over political views and music. you don’t think nothing else of it.

not quite plug!hobie who you find yourself thinking about more and more often, ever since that first time y'all smoked together.

not quite plug!hobie who finds himself in the same predicament.

not quite plug!hobie who answers the door on your 6th buy in a pair of red sweats and a tight white t-shirt that hugs his lanky frame, hair tied up with a blue shoe string. he invites you into his crib, citing reasons of having no one else to talk to about his views with. after all, it's the first time you both have time to sit and talk and listen to music instead of a quick deal since that first time.

not quite plug!hobie who you get faded as fuck with, this time sharing a joint on his janky couch, heavy hands brushing against each other with each pass. he tries to ignore the aching in his very core every time you speak your mind, your aligning politics driving him crazy.

you mirror him, shaking off the.. arousal?.. no, it can't be. you can't be getting all heated just cause a man is an anarchist. whatever. just ignore it.

not quite plug!hobie who laughs when you tell him straight up, “people aren’t killing politicians anymore. that’s our fuckin’ problem.”

"really? you're wild. but i get it."

"course you do." you nod, taking another drag of the joint. erykah badu's "green eyes" is playing quietly in the background of your convo. hobie starts laughing.

"what?" you smile.

"song's called green eyes, right? well we got red eyes." it's corny and wouldn't be funny if you two weren't high as shit, but you are high as shit, so it's fucking hilarious.

not quite plug!hobie who's eyes linger on you as he pulls laugh after laugh out of your chest with his snarky little jokes.

not quite plug!hobie who walks you to your car after your smoke session, telling you to get home safely. he passes out after his head hits the bed, that after smoke sleep being some of the best he's ever had. he tries to chase you out of his mind as he succumbs to the cess.

not quite plug!hobie who lights a joint and then pulls his dick out the next day, hard and heavy, and strokes it thinking about his pretty little client— friend? whatever — hips stuttering as he wraps his hand around his thick base. he's tried to shake you off, went all day distracting himself with this and that, but it's not working.

not quite plug!hobie who cums in white spurts splattering on his chest to the thought of making you cum in a room filled with smoke, some old r&b playin as he dicks you down the way he's been wanting to since the first time your pretty ass came to him asking for some weed. he wants you bent over on the end of his bed, eyes low and red while he fills you up and fucks you good, gives you his dick like he feels you so rightfully deserve.

not quite plug!hobie who you seriously can't stop thinking of. last night's smoke session has you on edge, so you light another joint, but weed always gets you horny, so when you slip your fingers into your panties and touch yourself to the thought of the pretty darkskin boy with the piercings and cool hair pushing his fat cock into your pretty hole, you blame it on the mary jane sitting pretty in your veins.

the fault lies in the mary jane for making you think about him laid on top of you, talking you through it as he damn near kisses your cervix, his wiry hands roaming your body. the fault lies in the mary jane for having your legs shaking, imagining your pretty plug folding you in half and ruining you, leaving you and your cunt sore and satisfied and dripping his cum.

not quite plug!hobie who cleans up while telling himself that he can't do this again, that you're not interested in him.

not quite plug!hobie who you block out of your mind as you shower. what you did wasn't right. it won't happen again.

not quite plug!hobie who you don’t buy from for a minute, cause you’re trying to stop smoking so much, for a while. you still keep in contact with him, though. daily texts, funny memes, and of course talks of anarchy. one day, you call him “bee” instead of hobie, and it sticks. he likes it.

not quite plug!hobie… who you fuck yourself to again, this time slipping three fingers inside your greedy cunt to satiate the need for him. it’s almost every night, and it’s a different fantasy every time. 

in the backseat of his car, bent over on his counter, pressed into his couch cushions. your head pressing into your pillows while visions of hobie’s lips pressed to your ear praising you endlessly for being his good girl and taking him so well torment you. you’re insatiable, but when you text you have to pretend like you don’t want his piercing scraping against your clit as he eats you like a man starved.

not quite plug!hobie who has the same dilemma as you.. he can’t even go a couple of hours without growing hard in his sweats, glimpses of you spread out on his bed with your thighs thrown over his shoulders, or you face down ass up, sobbing in pure ecstasy. it’s not made better by y’all’s constant texting, more and more of your personality being revealed to him each day.

you both share one brain, really. and that one brain finds each other attractive, of course, but it’s not just that. it’s not just pure lust. you two have more in common than anyone you’ve ever met, and that sinks ache and want so deep into you that every night and day is spent trying to rid yourselves of it.

not quite plug!hobie who you buy from again almost two weeks later, two weeks that were filled with funny conversations and deep discussions of politics through text. two weeks that solidify the growing feelings you have for each other. this time, he’s wearing a pair of blue sweats and a tight black tee, and his hair is tied up just like the first time you came to his house. this time, brandy’s playing throughout his crib.

you’ve only known each other for about two months, but it feels like longer, for the both of you. you take your seat on the couch as he grabs his stash and his papers, pulling out one paper to roll up.

not quite plug!hobie who sits a little bit closer than he did last time. he smells good. your head is swimming already. 

not quite plug!hobie who lights up and then lets you take the first hit, watching you wrap your glossy lips around the joint like he doesn’t wish they were wrapped around his dick instead. you pass the joint to him and settle onto the couch, raking your eyes over his lanky frame, and what you swear is a hard-on. no way. it has to be the weed. 

he settles back onto the couch too, extending his long arms on the back. his arm comes up behind your head, and you rest your head on it, smiling dopily when he directs his hazy gaze your way. his playlist must have ended. you're left with him and your thoughts.

“you’re funny, you know?” he says through a breath of smoke, passing the joint to you.

“yeah?” you reply, hitting it again. “everyone tells me i’m just corny.”

“you’re not corny. you’re pretty hilarious, if i’m bein’ honest.” 

and there it is again.

not quite plug!hobie whose words light that fire in you again, the fire that you’ve been dousing every night for the past two fucking weeks. fuck, not here. not now. you grab the joint from him in an attempt to push more weed into your system to flush him out, but you meet his pretty fuckin’ brown eyes and they’re low and his lips looks so good and he smells so good and suddenly you’re asking not quite plug who you’re two seconds away from fucking!hobie why he’s been charging you less than everyone else who buys from him and why he invited you into his car and into his house, twice.

and not quite plug who really wants to kiss you right now!hobie can’t even joke and twist his way out of this one. he’s tired of cumming alone to the thought of you. the worst you can do is leave. but the best? god, so many things.

“'s cause i think you’re pretty. n' i really wanna kiss you right now.”

“then do it.”

not quite plug!hobie who tastes like weed and chocolate. the hand that was resting on the back of the couch finds it’s way to the small of your back, fingers drawing nonsensical shapes into it. your hands find his knee and his neck as you press your lips into his. you slide closer to him, and then he’s using the hand resting on your back to push you into his lap, hands settling on your hips as you settle above him, your hands circling around his neck.

“how long?” you ask between kisses.

“since the day you walked up to my car.” he responds quietly, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. he’s quick to trap your lips again.

god, he is hard. and he’s big, you can feel him pressing against the inside of your thigh. you hold your tongue, figuring you could deal with that later. right now, you just need to get out what you’ve been keeping in since the day you two met and you spotted the little ‘a’ hanging from his mirror.

the kiss grows deeper and he grows a little less shy, starting to use his hands gripping your waist to grind you against him. heat floods you when you realize that he's pulling you onto his cock, pressing your cunt against him, separated by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts.

you find his rhythm, falling into the pattern of his soft pushes and presses, a gentle lull of bodies moving against each other that makes you even more comfortable than you already are. soft little groans escaping the both of you, mixing with the smoke and infatuation in the air.

he lets you move the way you want, lithe fingers tracing up your back, hovering over where your hair falls onto your neck. he keeps kissing you for a minute, seemingly frozen. but then he's pulling away to speak, "can i- can i touch your hair?"

you stop moving with a smile. you nod. "yeah. thanks for asking." you kiss him again.

"course, love." he nods, and then he kisses you again. his long fingers snake into your hair, gently and softly. he strokes his hands through your locks, in time with your kisses and the movements of your hips that have started again. hands migrating from his neck, sliding down his chest, laying flat-palmed. your fingers slide under his tee, curling and gripping to pull him ever closer to you.

not quite plug!hobie who could kiss you forever. you could too, but you want more. you need him. so you pull away just a little, murmur "can feel you against me." chills rack through him at your words.

"i know. 'm so hard, darlin'." he pushes his hips up just a little, drawing a muffled whine from you.

"been wantin' you so bad.." you trail off. hobie takes it upon himself to move his hands from your hair to the waistband of your shorts, eyes fixed on yours, watching your every move. you nod, giving him permission to snake his fingers into your shorts, fingers that are met with no resistance.

"no panties? did'ya plan this, doll?" he smiles, slim fingers exploring your wetness, doing what he can with the limited space.

"mhm." you shake your head. "'s more comfortable." he hums in agreement. he circles your clit with his middle finger, dipping towards your entrance to collect more slick. you push down against his fingers, causing him to have to crane his wrist to reach you.

"can we take these off? can't touch you the way i wanna." you blush, averting your eyes to focus on the hand that disappears into your shorts.

"yeah." you breathe shakily, standing up and letting hobie pull them down your legs, hands on his shoulders as balance. your shirt is long, and it falls down to give you some modesty. hobie throws your shorts somewhere behind you before he leans back, giving you space to sit back down.

he looks so fucking good, brown eyes staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky. he reaches out for you, pulling you back into his lap by your hips. his hand disappears under your shirt while his lips find yours again, exploring you more freely this time.

"so wet, doll." he murmurs between one kiss and another, smiling when you whine. his fingers move at different speeds, pressing in different areas and circling at different speeds until he finds a combination that makes you jolt against him, whining "bee."

"thaaaaat's it, love." this time, you don't return your lips to his, instead tucking your head into his neck as you hump shamelessly against his hand, his cock pressing hard and heavy against your thigh. "keep going, baby," he urges, "show me how it feels."

and you do. you shiver and shake and whine and groan in pleasure, pressing kisses in his brown skin as he touches you the way he touched himself thinking about.

not quite plug!hobie who presses his thumb into your clit, sliding his hand farther down to tease your drooling hole. "'s wet, love. g'na feel so good 'round me." you moan loudly at that, at the thought of your fantasies coming true. you cant your hips down, sliding down his fingers until they're seated inside you, stroking gently at your sensitive walls.

pulling them out softly, he curls his fingers, twisting his wrist as you whine and mouth at his neck. "'s okay. you can bite." he nods, catching onto what you were holding yourself back from. you still don't, resign to licking and sucking instead.

until his fingers catch the spongy spot inside you, and your teeth are sinking into the column. "fuck," you damn near shout, pushing yourself onto his hand. he groans in response, pleased to be pleasing you and indulging in the pain you inflict on him. thumb on your clit and fingers playing with that spot, he brings his other hand from your hip to your hair to soothe you, to ground you.

it's sweet, really, his hand in your hair while the other one touches you the way you've been dreaming of. coos and hums meet your ears, soft sounds of affirmation egging you on to let yourself get lost in the pleasure he delivers you. arousal steadily dripping out of your hole, hobie's fingers sliding easier and easier inside you until he can pull out and slip right back in.

"you're so pretty, dove, fuckin' dreamgirl." he murmurs, staring down at your pretty face, arched eyebrows turned down in ecstasy, lips parted. the praise takes you closer and closer to the edge, his deep voice reverberating throughout your entire being, the pangs of arousal in your clit growing harder and faster. you're close.

you're so goddamn close to cumming for a boy you just wanted to buy from. his long fingers reach deep, deeper than you could ever even dream of. “hobie- i- i’m g’na-” you stutter against his neck, hips stuttering against his fingers.

“‘s okay, love, cum. i’m right here.” the rubber band snaps, and you're tightening your thighs around his hand while you shake and shiver, eyes closed tight with soft whines of "hobie, god it feels so good" tumbling from your lips. you tighten around his fingers, too, squeeze him so tight he winces, cause he just knows you're gonna feel so good wrapped around him. he pushes that thought away, though, focused on helping you ride out your orgasm.

fingers pressing into your clit and that spot inside you, he makes sure to milk every last second of your climax, eyes fixed on your ethereal features. aftershocks still racking through you, you finally open your eyes, and he takes it as a sign to gently pull his fingers out of you and wipe them on his sweats, and you shudder at the feeling.

"that was. . so much better than i imagined. n' i imagined it being pretty good." you smile and giggle, placing a kiss on his neck. he laughs in response, raising his eyebrows at your confession.

"bet i'm a better fuck than you imagined, too." the air in the room shifts again, and suddenly you're aware of his cock pressed against your thigh through his sweats again.

"bet you are."

you raise up, kissing him again as your hands find the waistband of his sweats and invite themselves in, meeting his dick that's been hard since you first sat down on his couch. "and i'm the one who planned this? you're free-balling." you murmur against his lips, and he mirrors your words from earlier.

"'s more comfortable, 's all— fuck." he's cut off when you pull his cock out of his sweats and run your finger over his pretty brown tip, dipping into his slit. his hips thrust up, chasing your soft hand. "g'na drive me crazy." he almost whines, jerking against you when you swipe your thumb against his aching tip again.

"just returnin' the favor." you shoot back, raising up to hover over him, swiping his leaking dick through your wetness. he wraps his hand around his thick base, moving in time with your teasing strokes. "you're big." you groan, hesitating to seat yourself on him.

"i know, doll, you can take it though. we'll make you take it." he speaks into your clothed chest, muffled and horny, and you’re sure he means what he says. you drip even more at his words, sticky slick wetting his fat tip.

not quite plug!hobie whose hands are on your hips as you sink down onto his pretty dick, whining into his neck as he encourages you. “you got it, baby, you’re takin’ me so well. god, she’s so wet.”

"she— fuck that's so hot," you moan, eyes rolling back at his words.

"mhm?" he hums.

you don't respond, too busy focusing on his fat cock pushing into you, focusing on the way you both make it fit, exactly like he said you would. finally, he bottoms out, your thighs resting against his sweats.

"g' job, babe. knew you could take me." you jolt against him, his heady words sending another pang of arousal straight to where you two meet.

not quite!plug hobie who you tell to move, raising your hips up as he pulls out, meeting him in the middle as he fills you back up. his hips slot against yours again, and his big chocolate eyes are fixed on yours, gazing upon you in adoration, while your eyes are fixed on where he disappears into you.

"so big, feels s'good. ." you whisper, meeting his gaze. the look in his eyes has chills running down your spine as you raise your hips again, choosing to connect your lips with his again. hobie starts to find a rhythm, now, wrapping his long arms around your waist. you swap spit with him as his hips meet your ass, taking over.

body bouncing with each of his thrusts into your pussy, arms wrapped around his neck. his lips slipping against yours, plump and wet. you both take it slow, basking in the feeling of finally being like this with someone you've wanted since you first saw them.

he fills you up so nicely, thick cock nestled in your achy walls, leaking tip just barely kissing your cervix as he thrusts just a bit harder and you push down a little more.

"y'feel me, darlin? 'm all the way in, at the end of you, god, 'm g'na make you mine." he babbles in pleasure, pushing his hips up even harder. still soft, but firm, and deliberate.

you nod against his lips, hand resting on his cheek. "feel you, bee, feel you in my fuckin' stomach, i swear." you feed off of him and he feeds off of you, kissing and slapping your hips against the others, wild and wanting. "fuckin' me so good, bee, makin' me yours."

"makin' me yours, doll, pussy's squeezin' me like she don't w'na let go."

"don't wanna let go, wan' you so bad." you confess, bringing your ass down onto his cock again. "i— fuck," you sob. his cock curves just right, and with his tip pressing against your spot now, hobie's found new determination.

"that it?" he asks, making sure to keep hitting that spongy patch of skin with every thrust, sheathing his cock in your wet heat.

"'s it, hobie, feels so good, shit." the high has worn off by now, leaving pure emotions and desire driving you two. you get tight around him again, cunt pulsing with every slam of his hips against yours. you feel so good around him, so tight and wet.

"'m g'na—, you're gonna make me cum, bee."

he moves one hand from around your waist at that, sliding between you two to toy with your clit, thumb rubbing wild shapes against the throbbing bud.

"fuck," you cry, grinding against his thumb and down onto his dick.

"you close again, doll? wan' you to wet me up, ma'me a mess," he encourages, big brown eyes fixed on yours like they've been the whole night.

"'m so close, bee, wanna cum for you, wanna wet you up."

"then do it." he mirrors your words from earlier, and the pleasure pulsing through your veins and infatuation swirling around in your blood gets to be too much, and you cum on his cock, still slamming your hips down onto him, meeting his thrusts in the middle. "thaaaat's it, doll." you hear hobie praise through the fog in your mind, bounces turned to messy grinds as you get all tight around him, cumming hard.

"y'alright, love?" he asks, moving your hair out of your face.

"mhm. w'na go again, you haven't come yet." he chuckles at your words, wrapping both hands around your waist and kissing you again.

"lay back, love." he murmurs against your lips, flipping you onto the couch. your back meets the smooth fabric as he lays you down, pulling his tee and his sweats off. you follow suit, stripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind his couch. his watchful eyes fall on your face, then your tits, then your cunt, taking your body in for the first time.

he finds his place on top of you, balancing himself on his elbows as he kisses you again. he reaches down, but you stop him. "lemme do it," you urge, replacing his hand. you line him up with your sopping entrance, nodding twice to tell him to push in.

the stretch is so fucking good, his cock bullying it's way into your tight cunt again.

"fuck, that's it," he curses, watching your face as he seats himself in your once again.

"so deep. ." you trail off, looking down at your stomach, and oh fuck, no way.

"hobie, hobes, look," you urge, and he points his gaze to where you're looking.

"oh, love, look at that. can see myself, right there," he presses down on the bulge he creates, ripping a broken moan straight from your throat.

"fuck me, please," you sob, squirming under him. he nods, understanding, and finds his rhythm easier this time, lean hips slapping against you. your body jolts up the couch with every thrust, choppy whines of nonsensical sentences leaving your mouth.

not quite plug who's absolutely pussydrunk!hobie can't get enough of your cunt, the way you squeeze him oh so tight, the wet squelches of your heat drawing him further into madness. he needs to go deeper, needs to fuck you harder, so he raises up, throwing your legs over his shoulders, leaning back down to bury his cock deep inside you.

"baby, fuck." it's a gritted groan, head rolling back onto the couch as he mouths at your neck, licking and biting at your heated skin. his thrusts are slow and firm, dick kissing your cervix, the slaps sounding out through his living room.

you're both quiet this time around, too blissed out to do anything but fuck, allowing yourselves to succumb to pleasure. every inch of his cock fills you, driving you crazy, driving him crazy too. it's intimate, his lips on your neck, your fingers palming at his back, limbs tangled together. and you can feel it building up in you again.

"'m g'na cum, hobes." he moves one of his arms, bringing his thumb down to rub at your clit, still mouthing at your neck. he lets it happen this time, doesn't urge you or change anything he's doing, and you coast into your climax so gratifyingly that you almost cry, squeezing him tight once again. now, your focus is on making him cum.

"wan' you to cum, hobes."

"gotta pull out, love. we ain' even put a rubber on." he realizes.

"no you don't. 'm clean. jus' fill me up, please." in your right mind, you wouldn't let him, but you're not in your right mind, and neither is he. so he cums with a groan, shaking as he spills pressed against your cervix.

the air's.. different now, satisfied and calm. you both lay there for a while, until hobie's picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up.

after, he lights another joint that you two share tucked under his covers, hugged up like a couple.

not quite plug!hobie holds you as you both fall asleep.

[theodorenmyth]

Hi I'm new here and I was wondering if you would take a request for Tom Riddle. He just got into a relationship with a very bubbly clingy girl/boy/other. But Tom is very emotionally distant (bc it's Tom). And his partner becomes a shell of what they were because they need affection. And Tom does whatever you think he would do after he realizes.

Heart Unfrozen

Pairings : Tom Riddle x M! Reader

Summary : In the depths of the Hogwarts library, your bright and bubbly nature first crossed paths with the enigmatic and emotionally distant Tom Riddle. Despite his cold demeanor, your affection for Tom blossomed, showering him with thoughtful gifts and constant warmth. However, Tom's inability to reciprocate began to dim your vibrant spirit, leaving you a shadow of your former self. Realizing the depth of his mistake, Tom vows to change, determined to break through his own barriers and show you the love you deserve. As Tom learns to open his heart, your relationship strengthens, proving that even the iciest of hearts can be thawed by the warmth of genuine love.

A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

Warnings) : tom being emotionally distant, angst, fluffy ending tho

Word count : 1.4k+

The first time you met Tom Riddle was in the library. You were searching for a book on magical creatures when you noticed him sitting alone, surrounded by stacks of ancient texts. There was an air of mystery around him that piqued your interest, and before you knew it, you were introducing yourself with your trademark bright smile. Tom barely glanced up, his cold eyes briefly meeting yours, but that didn't deter you. You were determined to break through his icy exterior, sensing something special beneath.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Your relationship with Tom Riddle started off like a dream. Despite his cold demeanor, you were the happiest boy at Hogwarts, radiating warmth and positivity wherever you went. You adored Tom, and your affection for him knew no bounds. You were always trying to hold his hand, link your arms together, and surprise him with thoughtful gifts. The first gift was a simple keychain shaped like a serpent, which you thought suited him perfectly. Tom accepted it with a tight-lipped smile, but you noticed the way he quickly tucked it away, as if embarrassed.

"Thank you," he said quietly, not meeting your eyes.

Your heart swelled with affection. "You're welcome, Tom! I just thought it would look nice with your things."

He nodded curtly, and you didn't push further. You were used to Tom's reserved nature, believing that in time, he would open up to you.

As the weeks passed, you continued to shower Tom with little presents—a scarf you knitted in Slytherin colors, a sleek ring with a subtle snake design, and a bracelet that matched one you wore yourself. Each time, Tom's reaction was the same: a polite thank you, followed by him stowing the gift away almost immediately. He never wore any of them, and it started to gnaw at you.

"Do you like them?" you asked one day, trying to keep the hopefulness out of your voice.

Tom glanced at you, then at the latest gift, a watch with an elegant green face. "They're... nice," he replied, his tone flat.

"Nice?" you echoed, feeling a pang in your chest. "Do you not like them?"

"It's not that," Tom said, finally meeting your gaze. "I just...I'm not used to this kind of attention."

You forced a smile. "That's okay, Tom. You'll get used to it."

But you weren't so sure anymore.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Slowly, imperceptibly at first, you began to change. Every time Tom pulled away from your touch or dismissed your gifts, a small part of your brightness dimmed. You started to feel like a burden, questioning your worth. Your friends noticed the change in you, their concern growing as the weeks turned into months.

"Hey, are you okay?" asked Mary, one of your closest friends, during lunch one day. "You seem... different."

"'m fine," you lied, poking at your food. "Just tired, I guess."

"Are you sure? You haven't been yourself lately," another friend, James, chimed in.

You forced a laugh, but it sounded hollow even to your own ears. "Really, I'm fine. Just a lot on my mind."

They exchanged worried glances but didn't press further. You appreciated their concern, but you couldn't bring yourself to tell them the truth. How could you explain that the boy you loved was slowly breaking your heart?

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

As time went on, your once-bubbly personality faded. You stopped trying to hold Tom's hand, stopped linking your arm with his. You even stopped giving him gifts, the thought of another rejection too painful to bear. You began to distance yourself, your presence in Tom's life becoming a mere shadow of what it once was.

One evening, you sat alone in the common room, staring into the fire. Tom entered and immediately noticed your absence by his side.

"Why are you sitting here alone?" he asked, his tone sharper than he intended.

You shrugged, not looking at him. "Just needed some space."

Tom frowned, walking over to sit beside you. "You've been acting strange lately."

"Have I?" you replied, your voice devoid of emotion.

"Yes," he said, his frustration growing. "You used to be so...vhappy."

"I guess people change," you said quietly, still not meeting his gaze.

Tom was silent for a moment, his mind racing. He had always been uncomfortable with affection, his troubled childhood leaving him wary of emotional connections. But seeing you like this, so unlike your usual self, stirred something in him. He realized he had been pushing you away, and the consequences of his actions were staring him in the face.

"Is it because of me?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable.

You finally looked at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and resignation. "I don't know, Tom. Maybe."

Tom's heart clenched. He had never meant to hurt you, but in his effort to protect himself, he had done just that. Determined to fix things, he reached out and took your hand, holding it tightly.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't realize how much I was hurting you."

You looked at your joined hands, then up at Tom. For the first time in a long while, you saw genuine emotion in his eyes. "I just wanted to make you happy," you said, your voice breaking.

Tom's grip tightened. "I know. And I do appreciate it. I'm just...not good at showing it."

You gave a small, sad smile. "I noticed."

Tom took a deep breath, his resolve strengthening. "But I want to change. I want to be better for you. You deserve someone who makes you as happy as you make them."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you blinked them away. "Do you mean that?"

"Yes," Tom said firmly. "I care about you more than I've ever cared about anyone. And I don't want to lose you."

You nodded, hope flickering in your heart. "Okay. But you have to let me in, Tom. You can't keep pushing me away."

"I won't," he promised. "I swear, I won't."

True to his word, Tom began to make an effort. It wasn't easy for him, and there were times when he still struggled with his emotions, but he was determined. He started by wearing the gifts you had given him, the keychain dangling from his bag, the ring on his finger, and the bracelet on his wrist. He even wore the scarf on particularly cold days, and the watch became a staple on his wrist.

He also began initiating physical contact, holding your hand or linking arms with you in public. It was awkward at first, and you could tell he was still getting used to it, but the effort meant the world to you. Slowly, your bright personality began to return, your smiles becoming more genuine, your laughter more frequent.

One afternoon, Tom found you in the courtyard, sitting under a tree with a book. He approached quietly, sitting down beside you.

"What are you reading?" he asked, peering over your shoulder.

You smiled up at him. "Just a novel I found in the library. It's pretty good."

Tom nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "You seem happier."

"I am," you said, closing the book. "Thanks to you."

Tom reached out and took your hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm glad. I don't ever want to see you unhappy again."

You leaned against him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I don't think I will be, as long as I'm with you."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

As the months went by, your relationship grew stronger. Tom still had moments of emotional distance, but they became fewer and farther between. He was learning to let you in, to share his thoughts and feelings with you. And in turn, you felt your old self returning, your love for Tom only growing deeper.

One evening, as you sat together in the common room, Tom turned to you, a serious look on his face.

"I want you to know," he said, his voice steady, "that I love you. More than I've ever loved anyone."

Your heart skipped a beat, a stupid grin spreading across your face. "I love you too, Tom. So much."

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, holding you close. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

"I never could," you whispered, burying your face in his chest. "You're worth it."

And in that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. Because Tom Riddle had finally learned to love, and you had been the one to teach him.

[matchamiko]

#9 - aizawa - fluffy +18 👉👈 no rush at all and sry if 9 was taken aa

˚₊ ⊹ 9. Bleary morning kisses, even while still half-asleep + Aizawa Shouta

˚₊ ⊹ Warnings: somnophilia (past consent given but dubcon just in case I guess, it’s only for like two paragraphs), oral f - receiving, pro-hero Aizawa, built like a house Aizawa, size kink.

You're a vision to him, always have and always will be. Especially when you're like this, curled up under the white sheets surrounded by numerous soft toys and pillows shaped like petals and flowers and all sorts cute. A shoulder teases him, curved in the sunrise of a grey sky, not quite shining but not quite as dull as predicted, rising and falling with the quiet snores he can hear from your chest. Aizawa is a little saddened to have ever missed sleeping next to you, hearing your heavy breaths and feeling you fold in on yourself in the strange, contortionist way you prefer. He used to be offended that you didn't often cuddle, believing it to be a key factor in a healthy, successful relationship but he found that he's just as, if not more content just to know you're in his bed and snoozing soundly next to him.

You twitch when he sits up, sheet falling to his waist and he feels a little sticky from the hot night, and maybe from not moving much, the welts on his arms and sides a testament to that. Aizawa knows you're a light sleeper during the night, always waking up when he starts to get ready for patrol or when he returns, even dragging your blankets to the living room to doze on the couch while he marks assignments by the light of his laptop. But in the mornings when it's chilly and prickly and oh so fresh; you're harder to wake than the dead.

Aizawa thinks it's cute really, reaching beneath the sheet to untangle your hands from where they're pressed tightly into your chest. He knows it's bad for you, and so do you but it's comfortable and stable for you, like a weight on your chest to help you through the night. He knows it's bad, but he can't help but raise your arm to his nose and inhale the spot on the inside of your wrist, where your scent is the strongest and the muskiest from where it's been enclosed and baking all throughout the night beside your heart. Eyes close blearily, fluttering when his tongue darts out to taste you, the shining trail drying as Aizawa reaches the crook of your elbow. He's barely awake, grunting with the creaks in his back and the stiffness of his neck, chapped lips tracing the greenish veins up over your bicep to your shoulder, that sweet, sweet skin giving way so softly for him.

You sigh in your sleep, adjusting a little but falling against him harder, allowing him to loop your limp arm around his neck so he can dive nose first into your neck. Your hairline is a little damp, and Aizawa stifles a chesty groan when he kisses there, down the giving muscle of your throat. He's sloppy, a little careless of your sleeping form and your arm drops from his neck as he pulls the stretchy fabric of your vest down your sternum,

"Uhhn - " you grumble with a start, eyes opening one at a time and then remaining closed with the feel of a heavy body over yours. It's overwhelming in a way, waking up to your partner looming over your body like a lion consuming his prey, tits out to the chilly air and itchy with the scratch of his stubble. One eye opens. Aizawa stares up at you through the mess of his hair, eyes dark and sleepy, body fluid with yours as you roll on to your back and stretch,

"'m all sticky this morning," you complain with a crackly voice, legs peeling apart grossly. Aizawa huffs against your chest, one hand cupping your breast and the other struggling to behave itself,

"Heh, bet y'are," he hears you grumble in response, reaching out to scratch the top of his head affectionately and Aizawa suddenly decides against delving into your underwear in favour of heaving himself up over you, "Hullo, did you sleep okay? You slept through all night for once, well done,"

You swallow and heat up at his praise, however gruff and somewhat hard it comes out of him. His hair shields you from the rising sun and the sound of people beginning their commute to work and you reach to brush a little dust from his eye, chin jerking upwards with an invitation.

"Mhm," you don't trust your voice much in the mornings, especially when Aizawa is so close to you with sleep in his face and hardness between his legs. He obliges to your request, barely kissing you but it's sweet and it's needed and it's honestly beautiful. Dipping low, arms folding and bulging, head cocking to one side and then the other with every sticky kiss he gives you. His chest presses against yours, hair bristly but soft at your insistence in the showers every night, shoulders practically singing at his movements, and you sigh. You sigh into his mouth with a smile. You sigh when his rough fingers stretch into your underwear, sticky and pearly. You sigh louder when he grunts at the immense effort it takes to move his broad body down between your legs, those singing shoulders mean and bullying the supple skin of your thighs over them. Your sigh turns to a croaky, open mouthed gasp when his tongue parts the folds of your cunt, hot from sleep and boasting a scent that has his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Dipping and licking with little slurps, barely touching you but overwhelming you with the stretch of his tongue and the sweet suction of his lips,

"S'early still," he mumbles, kissing your clit with a lazy smack and looking up at you with an even lazier smile at your reclined and positively angelic form, "M'gonna take my time sweetness,"

all rights reserved © matchamiko. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[nanamis-bigtie]

don't close your eyes

↬ yuji x afab!reader | lucid love ↬ lucid love masterlist // jjk masterlist // ao3 version

cw: smut, reader has a vagina (no excessive body descriptions), aged-up character, piv sex, mating press, messy sex (lots of drool descriptions), yuji has a big dick, bottom reader summary: after weeks of dating you're finally having the first sex with your boyfriend word count: 1.8k a/n: thank you for your patience - and for positive reception of lucid love event ❤ please, look out for next voting soon! tag list: @thesacredfanfics

Yuji's embrace beams with warmth and safety.

Even now, shed off your shirts and melting into each other, making out on his mattress, you feel spoiled just from their touch, from the tight and surprisingly soft loop wrapped around your back. The heat is building up slowly, simmering in your abdomen and lazy, steadily crawling into the furthest crevices of your body, up to your lips where you're sharing it with him. There's esurience but no hurry; you're tasting each other with patience of hours to come, hidden in meticulously build cocoon so close to the surrounding world yet—as isolated as you only can in his room, thin wall separating you from his roommates frolicking in the shared living area, long-forgotten movie still playing on laptop, abandoned on the make-shift table made of books.

You move your hands from his broad back to his chest and Yuji groans into your mouth when you squeeze a handful of his pecs. They're so big and soft yet, whenever a pleasant spasm runs through his body, you feel power flexing in them right under your curious fingertips. For a try, you sink your nails into his skin, not hard, just enough to leave crested-shaped lines. You're squeezed tighter in response, for the first time today, for the first time ever. The ever-loving touch of your boyfriend—the same arms that cradled you in moments of stress, that carried you bridal-style when you sprained an ankle, that adored you with the softest, the warmest puppy love—finally dares to show lustful fangs. He pulls you into him, flush against his muscular torso, one hand slipping down to your ass and guiding you to take a better seat.

Hard, pulsing bulge, perfectly palpable in the confines of gray sweatpants, presses right at your core and sends a different, hotter shudder across your body.

You mumble his name with a ragged breath, finally breaking the kiss that lasted for what feels like hours. Yuji pulls away just enough to look at you, a string of saliva still connecting you two, his face flushed, and pupils dilated under barely open lids. His lips are dark red and swollen, drool shamelessly pooling at their corners; it takes everything from you to not immediately lean for more, even with your lungs in desperate need of fresh air.

"You okay with this?" He asks once he finally finds words, his voice strained and shaking nevertheless.

It's the last call before the gate closes and irrevocably leads you to another step of your relationship. You're not each other's firsts but you've been taking your time as if you were, Yuji always making sure you're feeling comfortable with every new milestone and leading you there with a strong, yet gentle arm wrapped around your waist. You've never felt so loved and adored before, with the passion and submissiveness of a guarding dog, surrounded with his warmth until you've grown addicted, unable to think of any other flame than his.

No, no one else could need you like this. No one else could make you squeeze your thighs around them so desperately, afraid he may slip out of your reach once you stop.

You still loosen the hold, giving him place to act upon your agreement. "More than okay."

There's suddenly more of his tongue, more of his raw power nearly crushing you with the last kiss, finally revealing what Yuji is capable of once let loose off the leash. He knocks air out of you, in no time has you mewling under him as he picks you up with ease and changes position, pressing you to the mattress now. Treated like a flower for weeks, you've almost forgotten he's a beast, and you're no better than dust in comparison to his strength. If only he wanted, he could tear what you're still wearing off you, but he's busy devouring you, wet and hot lips skimming down your neck, nipping at your chest, sucking your perked with pleasure nipples. He leaves a trail of saliva behind, truly like a dog, and there's only more with each passing second. He tries to leave hickeys, doesn't have enough patience, just licks you instead, sipping your scent straight from your skin and groaning in pleasure whenever you spasm for him.

He finally stills at your navel, whimpers as he pulls away, his face flushed and messy with his own drool. There's genuine pain in his eyes when he has to abandon you, even if just for a minute; he trips on his way to his backpack as he can't peel them off your figure.

You lose no time, already pulling your shorts and underwear down to your ankles. Time spent on intense make out pays off, you're wet and leaking, ready to take him without much prep despite his size you've already got to feel with your hand. Lifted on elbows to see him better, you kick clothes off the mattress and spread your legs for him, ready and impatient.

Yuji turns straight into the perfect view, a box with condoms slips out of his hand at the sight, but he catches it mid-air. For a moment he fumbles around, not sure if he should put it away first or just drop his pants instead, finally decides on the latter and almost trips when trying to kick them off. His hard cock springs out of his boxers a moment later; it's fat and leaking and throbbing in anticipation: a treat that has you licking your lips. 

With hands shaking, Yuji tries to slide a condom on, fails time after time, desperation, let loose after the patient hunt, his biggest enemy in the crucial moment.

"Lemme help," you beckon him closer.

He almost pounces on you, thinks twice at the last moment and kneels between your legs instead, holding himself at the base as you finish the job for him, your own hands at the verge of shaking too. His eyes drink up your body, drool pooling at the corners of his mouth again, until he has to wipe them with a hand before leaning for the last, shallow this time, kiss before the main event.

"Can I put it in?" Strain in his shoulders tells how badly he wants to do it, he explores your cunt with fingers first instead.

You grab his wrist and peel him away, "I want to feel it stretching me."

Yuji doesn't need to be told twice. He scoops your hips to rest in his lap, cock flush against your sex, then guides your legs to rest against his shoulders. He kisses the sole of your foot on his way, wet lips ticklish for your sensitive skin. Laughter doesn't take anything out of the heat between you two, just urges him to take a proper sip of you faster.

He spreads your moisture, still lingering on his fingers, all over his cock, and lines himself up properly.

"Oh...god," he shuts his eyes tight, his face taunt and exploding with scarlet as his tip slides past the tight ring of your entrance. Incoming snap is written all over his expression, an ungodly amount of self-control is needed for him to not just slam himself whole into you, but he keeps it up, patiently stretching you inch by inch in.

Yuji fills you up just right, the line between immense pleasure and stretch beyond discomfort deliciously thin. His pulse is thudding through your body, your rhythms united in the most intimate way possible, and when he finally bottoms out, even your breaths melt into one. He sways you both gently for a while, trying how much is allowed and expected, each slow thrusts splitting you into shattered pieces. Eyes rolling at the back of your head, you claw at his massive thighs, prompting him closer, craving only more with each move and each draft of air hissing through your taunt throats.

He listens, always obedient, always such a good boy.

Your legs are flicked towards you, knees almost by your head, as he easily folds you in half and advances on you with the whole weight and power of his body. He's so deep now, deeper than anyone else before, and stretching you up in ways you've never thought it's possible for you. Throbbing of his dick almost reaches your chest, the scent of his sweat finally breaks through the thin layer of simple shower gel he's coated himself an hour or two before, saliva almost dripping straight from his lips into your open mouth. 

He's closer than ever before, almost absorbing you whole into himself.

You're given three deeper breaths to reconsider the position before Yuji starts pounding into you, the last coil of restraints finally snapping. It's not only his hips, he's taking you with the power of his whole body, from heads to toes, as if he tried to bury himself into your hot cunt. He tries to speak, words only die between whines and grunts, drown in chaotic, deep kisses, flooding you with his tongue and drool.

"It's... All mine," he manages to choke out, maybe about cunt, maybe about your body as a whole, it doesn't matter to you now, when folded in half and manhandled as if you were a mere fleshlight. Still, there's only love and care, each thrust slamming into you with passion and yearning of weeks of building the tension for this moment only. 

You're both drenched in sweat, so close you swear you can feel his scars and the finest of his body hair. His thrusts almost push you off the mattress; he pins it down with one hand above your head, the other cradling your face into the crook of his neck. His scent is sharp there, the pressure of his touch suffocating you in the most delicious way possible. 

Your hole flutters tight around his length, his rumble of pleasure resonates through your body: the final, littlest impulse that finally sets you on fire and drowns you into pleasure until you're seeing white, and your body loses tension.

Yuji's rhythm stutters in response, eases as he lifts himself above you, sparing you much needed air.

"Oh god..." He mumbles, eyes fixed on your blissed out expression. "You're so—"

One more sharp thrust later, he tenses too, and comes with a desperate, choked-out I love you whined into your ear. The union of your rhythms breaks, and your bodies start to drift apart. His cock is still nestled deep in you and your thighs are still flush to his sides—but the heat has simmered down to flame barely tickling your skin. 

The beast has turned docile, relaxed in your arms and purring softly when you slide fingers through his sweaty hair.

Yuji lets your legs rest flat and nuzzles up to your neck, wiping the drool off his lips against your moist skin. Both of his arms sneak under you and squeeze you close, lust gone and replaced by lazy love and satisfaction.

His embrace beams with warmth and safety again.

[eleventeeny]

Joker: Folie à Deux -- A Misunderstood Movie About a Misunderstood Man

What is Folie à Deux?

Folie à Deux, also known as shared psychosis, is a disorder in which delusions are shared between people. The term is French for "madness of two" but can involve more than two people. In this movies case, the delusions are shared by Arthur and Lee.

This movie brought something new to the story, a musical. The Joker sees himself as a star and believes that he is a spectacle, kind of like he has Truman Syndrome. In this movie, I believe the musical aspects play a part in the shared delusion of the two characters.

Before I get into the music and its role in the delusions, I want to talk about when we first see Arthur at the start of the movie.

After the animated introduction, we see the asylum that plays as a main setting for the movie. When Arthur is walking around, his surroundings reminded me a lot of the 1967 documentary, Titicut Follies, which shows the treatment of patients in Bridgewater State Hospital. The patients running around naked or in their underwear, being taunted by the guards, and just the atmosphere feels very reminiscent of the footage in Titicut Follies.

(This may be a little off topic, but while I was researching Todd Phillips projects other than the Joker films, I discovered he also directed a documentary on GG Allin in 1993. Just thought it'd be cool to share.)

So, when the story begins, Arthur is very quiet. He doesn't talk and even the guards of the asylum point out his uncharacteristic behavior. I think it would be safe to assume his life behind bars was getting the best of him.

But when Arthur sees Lee for the first time, he's suddenly back in shape and willing to be his normal, everyday self again. When they meet officially at the singing group, that's when the musical portion of the movie starts. That's part of the reason why I believe the music represents their delusions, after they first talk, the delusions are passing through them both and then they begin to sing with each other. Arthur also seems hesitant to join her, which I'll get into my interpretation of the reason later.

I've seen all the poor reviews for this film, seemingly only because of the fact the movie is a musical. I think the musical theme fits well with the story, but maybe the fans just weren't ready for it. I think the people who disliked the movie for the musical aspects just think musicals are goofy or childish and don't fit in such a mature movie.

I found all the songs to fit perfectly with the scenes they were placed in, and it made the movie so much more interesting to me, it was a unique change from what you would usually see.

Whenever Lee and/or Arthur sing, it's always when they're with each other or when one of them is mentioned.

Toward the end of the movie, after Arthur tells the court that there is no Joker, he sees Lee again and when he tries to talk to her, she starts singing. He tells her to stop singing and just talk to him. This is another reason why I believe the music represents their delusions. After he breaks his delusions and comes back to reality, he doesn't want to sing anymore. He's not telling her to stop singing, he's telling her to stop believing the delusions.

When Arthur was committed, he finally began to stop believing in himself as the Joker, that's why he stopped making jokes and being all Joker-ish. But when he met Lee, she convinced him to enter that delusion once again because it's what she wanted of him. She didn't want Arthur, she wanted Joker. And when he stopped giving into it and told the world the Joker doesn't exist, she left him.

I think this movie is amazing and I enjoyed it despite my lack of knowledge on the DC universe. I hope whoever may read this can use my writing to find better understanding of the thought process behind the choice to make it a musical.

[s1llydr3amscape]

LET ME OUT

Looks like someone failed the captcha test to many times!

Anyways I always wanted to doodle this specific pose from Toyless' animation why because I can :]

Extras under the cut :

This was the specific screenshot I based the pose off I love hands grabbing head!!! :

The original video ^ (I'll be real with yall I was shocked the original song was poppy playtime because my only experience with it was that all my baby cousins loved that franchise. And they would show me vids off it at family gatherings because I was the babysitter. One of em even debated me abt fnaf like chill out bro you weren't even born when it came out!!!!!)

Glitchtrap rambling time woohoo let's go!!!!

-I redrew em again because I think I'm almost 100% happy with its design!!!! Like I don't wanna change their face so much because the way his face is shaped is my fave!!! Like they have the same style of muzzle as sonic characters!!!!!! I just made it rounder cuz its their early days before this au lore

-I just wanna achieve the unnaturalness with their design. Like they don't belong here. They want to get out. LET HIM OUT. type vibe basically like that's why it has like those kind off teeth instead off the rabbit ones. They get those later in the au.

-I fucking love Glitchtrap so much you don't understand they're so peak!!!!!! I jokingly hate him because I despise what it did to Vanny.

-I was a fan since day 1 bro is just so unique like woah a non animatronic for a change?!?!? STRAIGHT UP A FURSUIT!??!?! Color me impressed!!! I love zooming on it its model and seeing everyy little detail!!! Like omg bro is crying and drooling on the suit!!!!! There's also a patch of uneven stitching pattern on the top of their head compared to their mostly symmetrical design!!!

-I was so fixated on em like my level of obsession for him was bad bad!!!! Like yeah it was still there when Vanny came around during the curse of Dreadbear DLC but you don't understand it surpassed all my Foxy art!!! The first fnaf character I fixated on!?!?? Like what and yall can ask my IRLS bro had lots n lots of art!!!!! I have so much trad art of glitchy it's embarassing!!! Atleast I improved tbh!!

-I just really really loved the fan animations were bro got to time travel to the older fnaf animations and fuck em up!!!! Causing them all to glitch out like hello PEAK!?!?!?! No im not biased to rabbit characters with whiskers shhhhh... SHHH...

-Because I know all those animations already and it's like omg omg OMG Glitchtrap kinda expanded my music taste imma be fr... Fnaf autism is so bad I omfg I only listened to fnaf songs and the only time I listened to other franchises songs is because someone animated fnaf over it... like yeah I was an animation meme kid but even then I only remember the lyrics and titles to songs if I saw fnaf on them (cringe!!!!) So yeah thank u Glitchtrap <33333

-I think Malhare is the cooler name but the Glitchtrap name is cool too because when the names end in trap like this it makes me think they're like warrior cats adjacent. So in this one they just fluctuate between either Malhare or Glitchtrap

-Also another reason he's my super fave is because my brain predicted it's gloop form!!!!

-Like no joke literally the same character I dreamt about during the early days before Princess Quest.

-Except mine was a shadow like the shadow animatronics. More wispy than gloopy. I think the reason I dreamt it was because Shadow Toy Chica and fan made shadow animatronics were getting popular!! But legit same character and colors!!!!!!!

-Just a big dark mass with purple eyes surrounding it like literally the same character my brain came up with and I'm just wow <3333 minus the fact my design had really big giant swirly white eyebrows

-However my Shadow Glitchtrap was kinda more wack to say the least. Like heheheh cuz Glitchtraps a fursuit there's no denying that I changed the dream design a bit. In my old Glitchtrap designs they'd have a zipper and so what would happen was they'd unzip and flip their insides into outsides to reveal the Shadow Glitchtrap thing which was hiding inside them.

-Like those plushies that you can unzip to reveal a different plushie design basically!!!!

-TBH I prefer Glooptrap because yeah!!!!! Amalgamation of hate let's go!!!!!! I think with how gloopy he is its just fun to draw I love the fact that the weird Glitchtrap blockers look like that it fits too much with my own preestablished AU lore.

-I feel like Glitchtrap turns into Glooptrap from like the seams of their suit. Like you see that each part the suit got stitched just turn black as black liquid pours out like ohhh that shit haunted!!!! Bursting outta the seams like oh this guy has no one inside they're all just black sludge!!!!

-In this AU specifically (The one with my millions of Vanny designs) is actually a spoof fnaf AU where everyone lives!!! Like I have 3 AUs technically one of them being the fnaf cast in my oc world where they become my ocs basically called Rabbit City. My other one which is my more serious canon adjacent fnaf AU where no silly stuff or shipping happens, and it's just more overall following my own formed understanding of the canonicity and the series of events with me trying to keep the animatronics more game accurate (I dont think ive posted any of that here due to me feeling like my style limits the nit and grit I wanna go with it). And this one I mainly post on here where everything is just silly and bends to my command and everyone lives because I love everyone <333333 Literally playing with my toys type AU where I do what I want which is why a million vanny designs are in this AU specifically. I usually tag it as this 🦭🩷🐇🐰🐇🐰🐇🐰🐯 because the original name of this au is self indulgent and I'm embarrassed but it's too iconic to change it.

-Glitchtrap in this AU is just much more goofy and silly infecting people like a zombie virus and possessing them for his own gain. Weird eldritch horror that came out of a fnaf fangame. Anything goes in this AU so if I wanna make Glitchtrap a mind controlling zombie warlock wizard so be it!!!! Sorry I love zombies soo much you will have to take this trope out of my cold dead hands!!!!! I love rot!!!

-That's why it's wrinkly because they too me are like a rotten banana (Even though his associated smell to me is lemongrass). Imagine squeezing a banana still with it's skin on. That's how I imagine bro turns into glooptrap if they didn't open the zipper in time. Also because I love the design trope of rotting and withering sue me. I love when the flesh sags across the body. Wrinkles are great bro theyre so real!!!!! Also because back then people kept drawing him as skinny as a twig??? Even though they have fat??? So I made them fatter mostly because like I love the gloop part of it hiding inside <3333

-They're more green pink and purple because imma be real my fave color combo ever <33333

-I wanna do an xray piece with them soon to show their insides but I'm still uncertain if I have the art prowess to concoct it exactly like how I envision it yet. Like I need to squash and scretch them more. They need to look more decrepit and horrible!!!!! something like the unknown from dbd!!!!

-They can't actually emote properly stuck in a permanent smile

-Glithctrap and Vanny’s dynamic is like Lord Hater and Commander Peepers in this one. There's more character adjacent to the dynamic between them concocted in my head but I wanna draw a comic abt it :]

-Like yeah one second they're besties and the next they're at each other's throats ready to strangle eachother. Vanny reluctantly trying to help him at first like how she was first called.

-Oh also in this specific AU Glitchtrap isn't connected to William in the slightest more just it's own thing!!!!

-He's like an AI that wants to be human. It believes it is human. They've mimicked people too much that they don't know what they are anymore. Or what it wants anymore. What do they want.

[igotanidea]

Shower: J.T x fem!reader

Request: from the prompt list: "for sparring to turn into sex "+ "I told you to be quiet" + "they're gonna catch us" with Jason.

@parkjammys I'm sorry in advance, I know this is probably not what you had in mind, but I just couldn;t fight the urge to play and twist those prompts a bit.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI!

A/N: It's written in the Ego!verse and can be read as a next part to Growing up

***

„You got rusty” Jason smirked, while looking at Y/N’s workout simulation 

„Well, I’ve been in a cast for almost two months thanks to your older brother.” She scoffed brushing hair off her forehead. As if she didn’t know it took a heavy toll on her physique. She was panting after a beginner level program and absolutely hated it. It was like a cheek.

“It was NOT my fault!” Dick objected overhearing the conversation

“That’s just some poor explanation, Y/N” Todd mocked, making her clench her fists. “And you are not going to get back to shape and get cleared for the field if you keep it so easy.”

“Why don’t you cut your girl some slack, Todd? Even if she’s not capable of kicking your ass she can always go full meta on you.“ Tim muttered from the corner, too busy to look their direction while punching a dummy, but still not dropping the opportunity to torment his older brother.

“Oh, I am fully capable of kicking his ass.” Y/N panted “Right here, right now.”

“Is that a dare?” Jason lifted the corner of his mouth, his eyes glistening predator-like, eyeing her like a prey.

“Are you chickening out?” she pouted and tilted her head “scared of a girl, Red Hood?”

“Aren’t you scared of getting humiliated in front of the whole family?” he retorted taking a step forward her

“Do you want me to go full Ego on you?” he mimicked his movement and at the moment they were just standing in front of each other, inches away, their bodies almost touching while the other members of the family stopped their own workouts and focused on watching.

“Wouldn’t you like that, princess.” He whispered leaning over her, his hot breath on her face “I got some many thoughts in my head….”

“Do you two need a room?” Dick’s voice chimed in and brought them both back to reality. It’s been a moment since they were intimate (once again, the stupid cast!) and all they needed was a spark to forget all the surroundings and get lost in each other. But the audience was definitely not needed and upon Grayson’s words they practically recoiled from each other.

“Yeah.” Jason scratched his neck awkwardly “give me a room to pin her down.”

“Wouldn’t you like that” she laughed and it made him blush a bit. Shit. He would like that, but not with his sibling around.

“If you’re so smart and bold why don’t you go at me without using your little mind games?” he hissed clenching his fist. Fuck, he wanted her and if he didn’t start blowing the steam off that very second it would start to show.

“Promise not to go easy on me, Todd?” she spun around taking a stance on the fighting mat, facing him with that arcane look. He nodded, swallowing hard. “Then it’s a deal.”

“Wait!” Stephanie yelled “I’m opening the bets! 10 bucks on Y/N!”

“10 bucks?!” Y/N scoffed “so little faith in me, Steph! That’s pretty offending!”

“That’s all I have, y/n/n/, don’t let me down.” The blonde blew a kiss her friends direction and grinned.

“Ready you two?” Grayson rubbed his hand acting like a judge on the ring “set. Go!”

Neither Jason nor Y/N moved in the slightest. They knew each other too well to take  any sudden action, instead focusing on eyeing each other, calculating every gesture. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity she took tiniest step forward and the real fight burst out.  

Y/N took a slide and before Jason with his tank build realized what was happening she was behind him, punching his shoulder blades and making him fall forward a bit, but still not enough to cause him to fully loose the balance.

“Backstabbing, princess?” he smirked turning to face her and throwing a punch which she blocked easily, grabbing his arm and twisting it, causing him to groan.

“Go Y/N!” Steph yelled happily and that sudden exclaim distracted her giving Jason opportunity to put his other arm around her waist and lift her in the air.

“Let go off me!” she yelled, kicking her feet desperately, hoping to reach his knee or calf, which she knew were more sensitive and prone to injury than any other part of his body, but failed at that, instead ending up being held like a unruly kid, arms pinned to her sides. “Damn it!”

“Giving up already?”

“You wish!” Y/N was quick to come up with contingencies and not only because Steph was now literally biting her nails watching the scene unravelling in front of her eyes. Since it was impossible to use her hands, Y/N swung her legs in the way Dick taught her and not without effort wrapped them around Jason’s neck ending up on his shoulders, strangling him, cutting the air supply, waiting for the familiar patting on her thigh – sign of surrender. 

“Aren’t you a bit too cocky, Ego?” he hissed, trying to throw her from his back, squeezing the ankle of her freshly healed leg making her yelp in pain and loosen the grip.

A mistake which made her end up on the floor, almost losing the battle.

“That hurt you bastard!” she cried out, real tears showing in her eyes.

“I’m not falling for that love” he went forth and in a blink of an eye pressed her to the wall. Their chest touching, moving up and down frantically due to the heavy breath. Was it just because of the fighting?”

“Jason….” she whined, trying to push him away.

“Don’t play dirty.” He whispered into her ear

“ME?” she faked innocence “you are clearly the one happy to have me so close, don’t you, baby?” AUCH!” the girl screamed when he pushed her even more into the wall, his eyes absolutely dark “your family is watching….”

Fuck.

He let go for just a second and it was enough for her to use that against him. In the end he was the one who ended up on the mattress, on his back with Y/N straddling his hips and hands on his chest pinning him down and …. Well…. Feeling something there.

“You think you won?”

“I…” she didn’t get to finish the sentence when he flipped her over, hovering over, his  bodyweight not letting her to get up. “Fuck….” She muttered

“You?” Jason muttered, pressing his body closer to her, whispering in her ear, making her hot and needy and all red. “I can do that….”

“Could you please stop?” Damian muttered, rolling his eyes “why is it so hard to stay professional? It’s just freaking disgusting.”

“So, seems like I won.” Todd grinned, getting up, too proud of himself about making Y/N a flustered mess on the floor.

“I hate you, Todd.” She brushed off his hand which he offered to help her up. “You almost broke my leg again!”

“You know I would never do that. Not to you, Y/N. But Riddler’s goons wouldn’t have any seconds thoughts. You need to be ready for that. “ she turned away from him, angry “Hey.” He put a hand on her shoulder and spun her around “don’t be mad at me, baby….. You know I can’t handle that.”

“Y/N!” Cass called from behind. She was the one who was watching the scene most carefully from all the siblings. Therefore she noticed the slight limp and bruising on Y/N’s ankle and had to make sure her friend was good to go “Leg?”

“I’m fine, Cass.” She sighed deeply “Sorry for making you lose the bet, Steph. Great job, Jason, congratulations, I guess.” She raised on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek briefly.

Probably last thing he needed, since instead of making him calm down the fight with her, feeling her body underneath him while pinning her down did exactly the opposite. And the feeling of her soft lips on his face only fueled him more. He needed her. He wanted her. It’s been too long since he had her.

“You did well, Y/N” Dick patted her shoulder as he walked past him “I think we all had enough for today.  Let’s just hit the showers.”

“Sure….”

Y/N moved towards the bathroom, adjacent to the training room. She knew Jason never meant to hurt her, but once he got into his Red Hood mode, he was oblivious to his own strength. And while fighting she was his opponent, not his girlfriend. And she wanted him to not go easy on her.

But still, it was painful and single unwanted tear flew down her cheek.

She wiped it off, angrily and slowly started taking off her sweaty workout clothes. But before any of them could actually hit the floor,  she felt hands wrapping around her from behind and let out a gasp struggling against the grip.

“Sh!” one palm covered her mouth silencing her in an instance “it’s me, baby. It’s just me.”

“Jace!” she whispered-yelled turning around to face him “what the hell are you…..?” she cut off, her eyes widening and wandering all over him. He was naked. Absolutely naked. And absolutely horny. Ready for action and the sight of him being so hard for her made her let out a moan.

“see anything you like?” he smirked so full of himself.

“Jace….” She whined, wrapping arms around his neck immediately pulling him to a kiss, pressing herself close to him.

Of course, she wanted and needed him too. Maybe even more than he needed her.

“Fuck, I missed you.” he gasped, hands wondering all over her curves, not able to satiate of the feeling of her so close, being so vulnerable in his embrace, so submissive to his every action and movement "I missed you so bad, baby.” Those calloused palms dived under the hem of her sport bra, painfully slowly lifting it up, forcing her to put her arms up and let go of him for a moment. Too long moment for her liking as the second that piece of material was gone she clung to him like a magnet.

“Mmmm.” She whined, feeling his lips on her neck, nibbling softly on the sensitive skin and massaging her breasts, pinching slightly on the pebbled nipples.

“You gotta keep quiet baby.” He smirked, now playing with the hem of her panties, caressing so close to where she needed him “Thin walls. Do you want everyone to hear you?”

“Hmmm.” She muttered mockingly taking a step back entering into the shower cabin, getting rid of her panties herself, completely exposed and motioning for him to follow “Hear us, baby. You’re not exactly the quiet type either. Come get me….” The girl whispered turning the water on, the broad stream dampening her whole body and hair.

She was never hotter.

Those lust-blown eyes, slightly reddened cheeks, plump and kiss-swollen lips …. Her body was practically screaming to him, so ready for more. She was looking at him with that sexy, lustful, seductive expression. All for his taking. With one stride he was next to her, pressing her whole body to his. Closer, closer, closer. And yet still not close enough. Her soft and silky skin, her every curve, all for him and he was not going to oppose to that gift in front of him. Passion and love consumed them both, hot water and the fogged bathroom  creating the steamy atmosphere only added to those feelings an fueled them.  

 “Baby…. Don’t stop, please, fuck, don’t stop” her hands found a way to his hair, tangling in the soft strands and pulling gently, pressing his head and mouth to her skin. “I want more.”

“Did I hurt you?” he suddenly pulled back looking into her eyes “is your leg all right?”

“It hurts….” She whined, pouting and reciprocating his gaze with the saddest, softest expression almost begging him to take care of her. In a very specific way.

“How can I make it better?” he whispered, heavily, resuming nibbling on her neck, causing another whine to slip past her lips.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing…. be … be soft with me today.” She begged “be gentle, baby…. It’s been so long, I forgot how you feel.”

“I’ll remind you. “

“How will you remind me?” she gasped when he bit on her collarbone, hickey already forming, her core throbbing and feeling so neglected, aching.

“I’ll kiss every part  of your perfect body. I’ll make you feel so good baby. I’ll get you high. Let me.”

“Take me, Jace” she moaned clawing on his broad back, his muscles tensing and flexing due to her ministration “now. Please, baby, please, I need you. I need you so bad.” she almost cried, all the sensations overwhelming her.

“Are you sure? Like you said, it’s been a while. Can you really take it?”

“Yes, yes please…. please Jason, please, please.” Tears started falling down her cheeks, masked by the streams of water on her face and he was quick to kiss all that pain away, lips brushing over her jaw and neck, nose rubbing nose before he captured her lips again. She wanted him to be gentle and he was going to comply. Just showing her all the love he had, without words, purely by action.

 “I missed this.” he whispered tracing a pattern up her inner thigh, causing her to spread her legs slightly “I missed being with you like this. Away from everyone, just us.”

“Mhmmm.” She shuddered when his fingers found their destination “Just us, baby. You and me. I’m all yours.”

“And I’m yours. Tell me how to please you princess. Tell me what you need. Tell me how you need. I want to know all your little fantasies.”

“No fantasies. Not today.” She shook her head “Not here. I want it simple. Just lift me and don’t let me slip.”

“I won’t” he promised quickly catching up what, how and where she needed, grabbing backs of her thighs and wrapping them around his waist, pressing her into the wall for support, one hand on her back, the other in her hair, massaging gently, tilting her head to get access to more of her skin.

“IT’S COLD!”she let out an involuntary scream taking them both by surprise.

“SH!!” he silenced her again “I told you to be quiet! They are gonna catch us!”

“Do you really think they haven’t realized you sneaked in here the second the training session was over? Please….” She rolled eyes “besides, do you really care? Come on, you have me in the palm of your hand, baby.” She wrapped her arms tighter around him, moving slightly up and down to create any friction and make him take some action. Much to her delight it got her a groan from the back of his throat and she shuddered at that sound “I’m quite the catch, don’t you think? And you can do what you wish with that” her seductive whisper In his ear seemed to finally spur him on.

“The best.” He responded pushing  in. Fighting the urge to just go all in with one thrust, but remembering what she asked him for. And instantly getting the reminder when she writhed with some discomfort, nails digging into his back. He loved that sweet pain, but was still mindful that it indicated that she was pushing past her limits.

“I won’t hurt you.” He whispered, rubbing her back reassuringly, trying to help her relax.

“I know…” she hissed feeling him push another couple inches in “I told you, it’s been….. a moment since we …..  and …. Mmmm.” The slightest frown appeared on her face and her mouth hung open for a while whilst her body started getting a memo of how good it was to have Jason inside her. How perfectly aligned they were. “Jace…..” she gasped out, already wanting and needing more.

“I can stop if you want.”

“Don’t lie to me, Jason. We both know you can’t stop at this point. And I can take it. I promise, I can take it. I want you whole. In me. Now.” she arched her back, trying to take in more of his shaft .

“You have me. I….” he hesitated. Words were still hard, but he felt the urge to say them. To assure her, that what he felt was true and that he cared for her.  “I love you baby. So fucking much.” His lips found hers once more and he bottomed out with one more push swallowing her scream as her pussy fluttered around his digits so deliciously. She was right, he didn’t really care about his family overhearing them going at it, damn, he was fucking proud and bragging about being the one to make her feel good enough to scream (suck that, Grayson). But that little sucker knew that forcing her to keep her mouth shut would result in her clawing on his back again. And he wanted that. She was all his. Her body, her mind, her soul, her screams and moans, her actions.

Everything.

Jason Todd was one selfish and possessive bastard.

But still caring.

“Jace…” she panted when he finally let her lips go, allowing her to take a breath. Not that she was capable of breathing while having him like this.

“You’re good? Can I…..?”

“Just…. Just a second….” She wriggled her hips, adjusting to the stretch, causing him to groan.

“If you keep doing that I’m going to lose it.” He warned, squeezing her butt cheek.

“Oh, I am being tormented here. Forced, used, attacked from behind, abused.” She mocked tearily “poor little me.”

“Forced, baby? Abused? I can’t really see you opposing very actively.”

“Just move you little shit.” She laughed lightly, patting on his shoulder, urging him to start thrusting. And he did. Slowly, carefully. It was easy to get lost in her, but this time he was not going to rush that intimacy. They had all the time in the world. Eternity to worship each other. The external world might as well stop existing and explode and they would be perfectly happy just moving in that sensual, intimate pace, holding onto each other. Living in the bubble they created from their passion and love.

“I….” she whined, throwing her head back, resting it on the tiles and feeling the fire forming in her belly. At this point, her body was on fire and she didn’t care whether the wall was cold or not “I missed this too, Jason. Fuck, you feel so good.”

“I know….” he mumbled using the opportunity to kiss the exposed column of her throat moving towards her nipples, swirling his tongue around them, licking all the water droplets gathered there making her moan loudly “I’m fucking perfect for you.”

“Jace…..” she started moving against him, chasing her own high. She never knew that slow, soft loving could be so much better and more fulfilling than the rough, fast pace he usually set

“Hm?”

“Please…..”

“Please what?”

“Don’t stop loving me…. Just…. don’t …. ” shit, she was so close.

“I could never, baby. Just want to make you feel good.” He took a step forward, pressing her further into the wall and adjusting the grip on her back, making sure she would not slip.

“You are, but …. More. Please. Please, baby, please, oh, god” he didn’t pick up the pace but started moving harder on her almost making her snap “yes…yes, Jace, yes, baby.” She was no so loud there was not a chance those sounds didn’t echo through the whole manor. Most probably reaching not only the youngest but Alfred and Bruce as well.

Oh, well, that’s really (not) a shame.

“I thought I told you to be quiet, princess?”

“Fuck! Fuck! I don’t care! AH! Jason! Jace, baby, yes! Yes! Fuck! Please! God, baby, don’t …. So close…. Mmmm…”  

“You’re gonna come for me, baby? Right now? Can you be a good girl and cum on my cock?”

“JA…..” he didn’t give her even the slightest chance to scream his whole name, pressing his mouth on her swallowing the other part of it, feeling her body shudder and shake in his arms.

She was so fragile, so vulnerable, so sensitive and so overstimulated that even when he himself came, she was still clinging onto him. Not wanting to let go. Wanting him to stay, to hold her like that, to shower (pun intended) her with aftercare, attention, affection. She just needed him close. Not in a physical way, but emotional. And if he were to pull out and get out of this freaking bathroom, out in the world, forced to face it, she would lose that part of him. She wasn’t ready to let go of her emotional Jason. Not yet.

“Stay.” She begged looking straight into his eyes. “Please, stay.”

“Baby….” He kissed her forehead, slowly dropping her to her feet, hands secured on her waist, making sure her shaky legs wouldn’t give up on her,  holding her close.

“I don’t want to go there….”

“Now you scared they heard?”

“It’s not that… I…. I need you.Not the one you are with your siblings. The you¸ you are only for me” she brushed her lips over his slowly, gently “please…”

“I know. And I’m not leaving you. How could I?” he pecked her lips “but we can’t stay here forever.”

“Why?” she whined, hiding face in his chest and massaging his back “It’s nice and warm and spacious….”

“Don’t you think someone will take interest in why the water in this particular shower keeps running for hours non-stop?”

“hours, huh?” she smirked, licking her lips. She was so damn ready for round two.

“I bet it would be Alfred. Do you really want that?”

“No.” she looked down, suddenly ashamed by the thought of the family butler being a witness to their workout and forcing them out alongside with making them clean the bathroom of everything they may leave behind.

Jason kissed her temple briefly and reached behind him to grab a towel and wrap her in it, slowly helping her dry herself, smile never leaving his lips. She was looking so tiny and adorable like this. In her post-coital bliss. He wanted to remember that relaxed, peaceful look on her beautiful face.

Only when they both were dressed properly and somewhat presentable they dared to take a peek through the door, making sure no one was around. As fast as lighting and as quiet as the mouses they rushed to Y/N’s room, ready for cuddling and a movie marathon, but much to their surprise they had an unwanted guest waiting for them there.

‘You are both disgusting.” Damian hissed

“And you are here cause you wanted to say it to our faces?”

“Yes. Just letting you know. Oh, and… Y/N. You should know you actually made Steph win a bet.”

“What?” she asked in confusion, brows furrowing

“There was another. Between Brown and Grayson. She bet we would hear you. Grayson had more faith in your self-control. And he’s angry about losing. Good luck talking to him about it.”

“Oh, damn it….” Y/N whined, hiding face in hands, turning red.

“What was it that you said when I told you they are going to hear?” Jason tapped his chin “oh, right, I don’t care. Well, don’t you now?”