#time has flown so fast

[pinkbeastie]

EVERYONE SHUT UP

cant believe i was worried about them not being together and they are not only here but servinggggg

[wrvvth]

I cannot stop thinking about the fact that season 1 of IWTV was a year and a half ago. It simultaneously feels so much longer and also not nearly that long.

[slowdivinqs]

Easy

Joel Miller x f! reader | 18+ MDNI

summary: waking joel up in the best way possible.

warnings: implied age gap. no use of y/n , no outbreak AU, p w/o plot, consensual somnophilia, unprotected P in V, creampies, dirty talk, established relationship, daddy kink, soft dom! Joel, a few spanks, soft cock worship, pussy pronouns, can imagine game Joel or Pedro. Reader is described as having hair and dimples in her back, as well as Joel being able to manhandle her.

W/C: 3k of non-proof read smut.

A/N: I’m so blown away by all the love on Golden, love you all. Thank you for 150 followers ♡ happy holidays!

masterlist

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The duvet needs to be chucked outside.

You throw the blanket off of you with a quiet huff, your arms flopping forward onto the mattress once the duvet has flown nothing short of five centimeters off of you.

Joel Miller is a furnace, one who is insistent on holding you hostage - or cuddling, as he likes to call it - the whole night.

You may act like it’s the bane of your existence, shooting him glares in the middle of the night when your face feels like it’s on fire and you want to jump into a bucket of ice, but you still love it.

You turn over and snuggle into your man’s chest, deciding to forgo the annoyance at being warm, feeling the coarse hair tickle your cheek before you hear his deep, rumbling groan of sleepy approval. His arm clumsily wrapping around you and pulling you forward against him as he keeps sleeping soundly above you.

You can’t help but think of a big bear, deep in hibernation. It makes you smile to yourself before you’re falling asleep in Joel’s arms.

The sun decides to target your eyes the next time, and you glance over to see it’s now 10 am. Joel is still fast asleep above you, the arm that’s not cheekily resting on your ass is behind his head, making those biceps of his look even more delicious. You want to bite them, but your man needs his sleep. It’s his only day off after all.

You blink lazily, not really one for laying in bed once you’re awake, so you admire Joel sleeping next to you. That scruffy beard of his, unfairly long lashes, his full bottom lip, the trail of hair on his stomach that leads bellow the band of his boxers.

Your attention has been captured.

You lean your cheek against his chest - still nuzzling - as you stare at his underwear, eyeing the covered bulge of him that drives you feral every time.

You think back to last week, the day you had a very important meeting. The way he woke you up with his head between your legs, his hot mouth wrapped around your clit.

It’s only logical to return the favor, right?

Joel mumbles a sleepy protest as you escape from his arms, subconsciously grabbing your pillow and bringing it to his face, wrapping those big arms of his around it. Inhaling the scent of your shampoo and body cream and letting out a hum of approval as he promptly falls back asleep.

It makes you smile, momentarily losing focus as you slowly pull off his boxers.

His soft cock is a sight to behold. Ironically more enticing to you than when he’s burning bright red and dripping for you.

He was never embarrassed about it like your previous partners were. Whenever Joel got out the shower, with a towel wrapped around his waste, you could see the outline of him underneath, sometimes the towel would even slip, giving you a view of his tip.

You drool just thinking about it.

You shimmy his boxers down further, slowly lifting his package so his heavy, hairy balls sit above the fabric. Running a finger along his soft skin, humming at the sight of his tip leaking a small trail of sticky precum, twitching softly in your grip. You spend a few minutes just admiring him.

Stretched out on the bed like one of those Roman statues, his muscles on display under his hairy arms, tummy and chest. His thighs bent slightly, soft cock resting perfectly. His face, oh he’s so handsome. You love him, more than anything.

His hair has gotten fluffier, you suspect he’s been using your shampoo.

You lick a line up his cock, gathering that delicious pre on your tongue as he shifts in his sleep with a soft sigh. You still, waiting until he settles back into the cushions, you slowly take him into your mouth then, sucking down down down until he’s fully resting in your mouth, slowly twitching to hardness as your mouth warms him.

You stay like that for a few minutes, gently sucking on the warm weight of him until he’s dripping his precum down your throat, grunting in his sleep as his legs twitch up slightly - stomach clenching and relaxing again as his head turns to the side, a moan bubbling up in his throat.

You pull off as slow as you can, savoring the feel and taste of him against your tongue. The smooth, warm skin of the underside of his cock sliding out your throat. Moving your tongue so as to not graze the underside of his sticky tip - he’ll definitely wake up if you do that.

You let his cock fall gently from your lips, nuzzling your head lower, until you’re sucking one of his heavy balls into your mouth.

You feel a hand in your hair a moment later.

“Atta girl, keep doin’ that.” He groans with that sleepy, deep morning voice you love so much, his hips shifting up to guide more of him into your mouth. He keeps you pressed closer against him, inhaling that musk that's uniquely Joel. He spreads his hair-covered legs wider, stretching his back with the groan he always does as he lets you suck on his sac until he’s pulling you off him with a grunt and instead flipping you down on the sheets, climbing on top of you until his wet cock is nudging at your clit.

“You drive me crazy, Y’know that, angel?” He murmurs, his teeth nipping at your earlobe as he spreads your legs, humming in approval when he sees your wet pussy.

“You weren’t supposed to wake up.” You huff, your hands automatically going to his broad shoulders as he kisses your neck like he can’t stand to not kiss you as soon as he wakes up, you know he can’t : every morning you’re littered with kisses until you eventually open your eyes. It’s the best way to wake up you can think of, makes you feel warm and fuzzy and full of giggles. After, he usually spends ten minutes kissing whatever part of you he can until you either brush him off and he follows you into the shower, or you don’t even make it that far.

“Can’t stay sleepin’ when a woman like you ‘s between my legs.” He murmurs, his big palm groping your breast as he licks the sensitive space above your collar.

“Mmm come here, I miss you.” You whisper to him in your own sleepy voice you know he loves just as much as you love his, kissing his lips softly as he slides his hands under your shoulder blades, holding you up.

“I’m right here.” He says with a gentle smile, but you can see behind that softness he’s desperate from your teasing, that he wants to be inside you even more than you want to feel his cock stretch you, which seems impossible.

“I still miss you, I need you.” You whisper, and he brushes your hair back off your forehead with that big palm of his, placing a soft kiss on the skin he’s revealed before he’s pressing his drooling tip against your weeping entrance.

“Come here, my baby.” He whispers, lifting your hips so his tip can push past your entrance, making room for itself inside your wet walls until the rest of him joins in a hot, slow roll, stretching you open so deliciously you have no choice but to let your eyes roll back as you arch against him, peaked nipples almost brushing against his own strong chest. The weight of him inside you is warm and heavy, leaving your clit throbbing as you clench around him.

Your mouth pours out whimpers of his name, holding onto him tightly as he pushes forward until the coarse hairs at the base of him meet your twitching clit, and he’s kissing you softly while his hand cups the bowl of your skull - the other your lower back, his thumb and pointer finger finding your dimples.

“I love you.” He whispers, gazing at your face and admiring you even when your eyes are closed and your mouth hangs a bit open. He’s fighting to keep his own eyes open, to not let them flutter shut as yours have - he needs to see that face of yours he loves so much. Needs to watch the effect of him inside you.

“I love you.” You whimper, and you smile to yourself before your thumb brushes over his nipple cheekily, wanting him to react in the way you know he will.

He lets out an irritated noise that’s the closest to a growl you’ve ever heard from him, and your mission has been accomplished . “Naughty girl, you’re playin’ with fire.” Watching your expression he seems to be looking for what you want. He gives a jerk of his hips, and hums as your eyes flutter.

“Why don’t you teach me a lesson ‘bout being naughty, then?” You say softly to him, biting your bottom lip in a way you know will drive him wild. Your hypothesis is proven when he flips you onto your stomach, raising your ass in the air for his viewing pleasure. You whine when his cock slips out of you, leaving you empty and dripping.

“Yeah? You want me t’be rough with you baby? Bruise those walls n’ this sweet ass if yours?” He emphasizes his words with a chomp to your ass cheek and a slap. Joel Miller loves ass and tits, but you know his neurons activate whenever he sees your backside jiggle. There’s a strict rule about what pants you can wear when he needs to focus, for his own sanity. He’s missed too many deadlines at work due to him being unable to resist you walking past his office. He knows the rule is futile as it became more of a prompt to do the exact opposite of what he asked for.

You both know he doesn’t mind.

“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, your legs kicking back and forth slightly as he spanks your ass again, spreading your cheeks to watch your puckered hole flex and pussy drip down on your clit. He presses a kiss over his bitemark before shimmying his hips up, his large hands finding place on your hips, thumbs digging into your dimples like grips. He spends a second admiring the sight of his cock between your cheeks, no matter how many times he’s seen it.

“That’s my pretty girl.” He coos, his heavy hand holding his cock as he moves it up and down teasingly through your slit, his tip catching on your entrance before he’s pushing into you again. The angle makes you gasp, his cock sliding so deliciously along your front wall, to that spot that makes you dumb, that you can’t help the way you cry for him.

It’s all ‘daddy, daddy, daddy.’ as he starts moving his hips, mixed in with the louder slaps of his hips meeting your ass - noticeably with his increased effort.

“Oh, baby, this pussy is so sweet.” He groans. You can’t see it, but his head falls back, his hands grip your hips harder. You can’t even register what he just said, your mind is nowhere. You can’t think about anything except the pounding of his cock into you - the hot drag of him as he slides through your wetness like you were made just for him, just for his fat cock. “Squeezin’ me so tight, gorgeous girl.”

He smacks your ass again, three times in a row, inhaling sharply through his teeth when you clench around him, feet kicking up from their position against the mattress and into the soft flesh of his own backside. He grunts out a small laugh before he’s spreading your previously closed legs with his thighs, driving back into you when he’s made space for himself.

“How m’I supposed to stay mad at you when this creamy cunt’s cryin’ for her daddy?” He whispers as he leans over you, his chest pressed to your back as his arms wrap around your front, holding the opposite breast in each hand. He’s right, your pussy is creamy, proven by the white ring around his cock you can’t see, and it’s certainly crying for him - it sobs, mourns, yearns, weeps for him. His fist curls around your hair before he’s tugging as gently as he can to make your head tilt back, holding you like that.

“Oh, daddy-“ you hiccup, your voice shaking with his thrusts, every crack of his hips makes your words and moans break. It’s too much, and it’s not enough. You need him like this always, buried inside and holding you in a way that fixes you and breaks you apart all over again.

“I love you- she loves you.” You cry just as your pussy clenches around him again, you don’t care that the sounds of his thrusts are becoming increasingly lewd with the wetness seeping from you. You know he loves it like this:

Warm, messy and wet wet wet.

“I know baby, I know- she’s makin’ such a mess of daddy’s cock, should see the way your slick’s stickin’ between us- fuck.” He growls the last part, no doubt watching the webs of your wetness stretch whenever his crotch pulls away from your ass, judging by the way he’s twitching inside of you - veins thrumming.

You’d probably appreciate the thought a lot more if you could actually think it.

Joel grunts again, and soon you’re being rolled ontop of his chest after he moved himself similarly, his back pressed to the sheets as yours feels the tickle of his chest hair and happy trail. He plants his feet on the mattress, and you bite your bottom lip with a smile before you know it’s going to fall away with a silent scream of a moan as he starts bucking up relentlessly into you.

Your cries are hardly heard over the sound of his heavy balls smacking wetly against you. His hands have grabbed onto the underside of your thighs, holding them against your body as he thrusts with an amount of energy that should be impossible for a man in his fifties that just woke up.

His hands slide from your thighs, over your stomach to your breasts - his gasps, moans and grunts right next to your ear, sending goosebumps down your neck that feel like electricity. Your whole body is tingling. Not even his delicious sounds are enough to distract you from the slick, sloppy thrusts of him inside you, his tip seeming to target just the right spot again and again until your eyes scrunch closed and your brows furrow.

You can feel his smile against you when you suddenly go quiet, the only sounds leaving your mouth being gasps for air.

Your fingers blindly reach back and thread through his hair, just as he parts with one of your breasts to rub your clit with the rough pads of his fingers in little circles - it makes you arch away from him in a manner that he wishes he caught on video, just to save the moment forever. He flips you around once more to pulll himself out to the top, pressing you into the mattress as he slams back down into you. You’re both jerking forward with every thrust, his hand releasing your bouncing tit to wrap around your neck, squeezing gently to make you float up to that space only he can take you. The sloppy ache of him ramming into you further takes your breath away

“That’s my girl -mmph,oh fuck, cum f’your old man, cum for daddy-“ his growl breaks off into a breathy moan that has your toes curling, your cunt clenching around the thick, warm length of him.

What choice do you have but to listen?

Your orgasm hits you like a train, fire lighting through your body and shooting down your spine. Your hips jerk, pussy fluttering around him so deliciously he rewards you with one of his lewdest moans yet. Just when you think you’ll fall into a blissful afterglow, he speeds up.

“God fuckin’ damn, baby.” The words are punched out of him, broken and rough - just like his thrusts. “Good girl, ‘m goin’ t’flood this perfect pussy, then I’ll fuckin’ eat me outta you jus’ to pump you full again.”

It’s the best thing you’ve ever heard in your life, your head rolls back in bliss at the mere thought, not even mentioning the feeling of his sticky balls slapping against you, so plump and full you know he’ll be able to make good on his promise to keep your cunt stuffed until the sun dips down once more.

You can’t even cry his name when you feel his cock twitch upwards, spurting his release deep inside you, filling you with his warmth in a way that makes you feel blissfully cozy, like you’re safe and snug - ready to settle under the blankets with your scented candles burning in the room while Joel occupies himself by cleaning your cream-pied pussy with his tongue.

He kisses down the back of your neck as he gently pulls himself out, turning you on your side so he can kiss your cheeks.

“You okay, baby?” He whispers, continuing to kiss over your face as you keep your eyes closed.

“Yes.” you sigh, finally in that little blissful afterglow. He hums in acknowledgment before he kisses your lips softly, his hands pressing between your shoulder blades from where they’re wrapped around you.

“‘M gonna make us coffee, then I’m eatin’ that pussy ‘till I can’t no more.” He ends his filthy statement with a sweet kiss on your forehead, and you smile at him from the bed as he gets up, stretching your back.

“I love you.” You hum with a sweet sigh as your back pops. He’s currently picking up some laundry on the floor, bare as the day he was born.

“I love you, honey bee.” He says softly.

You admire his muscled back, shoulders and ass as he leaves the room, snuggling into the warmth of the sheets - no longer overbearingly hot - until Joel comes back to keep you warm instead.

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thank you so much for reading, please reblog and comment if you enjoyed ♡

[natalievoncatte]

Every part of Lena Luthor’s soul was screaming at her do not do this.

Yet there Kara Danvers

(Kara Zor-El, last daughter of the house of El, LIAR.)

stood, bedraggled and tear-tracked, hunched in Lena’s doorway like a tiny kitten begging her for food. Lena wondered how she did it, how she made herself so small and unassuming, pathetic even. It was more than a change of clothes and hair and ripping off her glasses. She truly changed, somehow.

Changed to deceive. Changed to mock, changed to take without giving, to make Lena a fool.

(it was a cruel thought, a green thought, a Lex thought)

“I’ve told you already, Kara. I don’t want you here. You’re a liar, you and all your little friends mocked me to my face and kept secrets behind my back.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“I don’t believe you.”

That relentless sad puppy look of hers softened even further.

“Why?”

God above how Lena hated her. Hated her for daring to ask. Fuck you, that’s why.

(nothing hurts more than a question that has no answer)

“I hate you, that’s why.”

Kara swallowed hard, wringing her hands. She was dressed in her pajamas and had probably flown here, then landed and asked to come up like a normal person. Didn’t she see that was the problem?

“I don’t believe you.”

Lena threw up her hands. “Oh fuck off with that, Kara. You lost your favorite toy, get over it. I’m done with you. I moved on, you should too.”

“You let me in. I’ve seen the real you. You’re not vindictive. You’re not cruel. You’re a kind-hearted, selfless, compassionate person.”

“And you didn’t,” Lena snapped, moving to close the door. “You deceived me in the most fundamental way. You made me believe you cared for me and believed in me and saw the good in me. No one sees the fucking good in me, no one. No one did but you… and it was all a trick to keep an eye on the Luthor.”

“No, no, I didn’t-“

“You didn’t? Then why did you get James to spy on me? Why’d you question my motives? Why’d you keep lying to me after I proved myself over and over and over again? Because I was never good enough. It was never real.”

Kara rubbed her arms. “Do you really think I brought you into my circle of friends and held you in when you were sad and brought you to Thanksgiving and let you sleep over in my home to keep an eye on you?”

There was a heavy pause.

“That’s fucking insane,” Kara snarled.

Taken aback, Lena flinched, half at the profanity and half at the anger in Kara’s voice.

“I admit it,” her voice broke suddenly, “I can’t deny it. I can’t just dismiss how you feel, I get that, but I didn’t keep my secret from you because you were some kind of a project, Lena. I kept my secret because keeping it let me keep you. It was selfishness, pure and simple. I wanted my one friend who didn’t see me as a superhero. I wanted… I wanted what I always want, things I cannot have.”

There was such agony in her voice that it cut through Lena’s growing fury like a blade sinking into clay, stuck fast, hot in her chest.

“I knew I’d lose you to it eventually. I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me.”

Lena blinked a few times, feeling her resolve start to shake.

(another manipulation. she will do anything, say anything to get back in your good graces)

(to do what, Lex? to what end?)

“Say what you came here to say.”

“I kind of did, but I have one more thing to ask.”

“Then ask it.”

Kara swallowed. “I want to pretend.”

Lena’s brow arched.

“Pretend what?”

“Just pretend it’s like it was. For one night. Just give me one more night and I promise you I will never bother you again. You’ll never see me or Supergirl for the rest of your life.”

“You’re on TV every day.”

“I meant in person.”

“And stop talking about yourself like you’re two different people.”

Kara sniffed.

“Okay,” she muttered.

Lena stood there for what felt like an eternity, screaming at herself not to do this.

(do it, it’ll make it hurt more)

(me or her?)

Lena stepped aside.

Kara entered. She brushed at her eyes, adjusted her glasses, and walked into Lena’s expansive, cold, dark penthouse.

As soon as she did, it was as if the light came back. It felt warm again, seeing her standing there. Having her here, in her cute little pajamas with her braid over one shoulder, those big eyes open and hopeful.

Lena closed the door.

“What do… what do you want me to do? Us to do?”

“We could watch a movie, maybe get Chinese delivered. Have you eaten? I doubt you’ve eaten.”

Lena hadn’t, actually. She hadn’t eaten today and had eaten only scraps yesterday and only because Jess insisted.

Kara touched Lena’s side, a soft brush of fingers over her ribs, and winced.

“You’re starving yourself,” she murmured. “Oh, Lena.”

“Kara-“

She already had her phone out and was ordering. Of course Kara had Lena’s place still saved in DoorDash.

Lena grabbed her hand to stop her.

“My treat.”

Lena fetched her own phone and put in a quick order- of course she had all of Kara’s favorites saved and of course she almost sent them to Kara’s address instead of her own.

“I ordered.”

Lena looked down at herself, wondering why the hell she was doing this. She was still dressed for the lab, so she retreated to her bedroom.

When she opened the closet her eyes immediately went to the maroon Midvale High School sweatshirt hanging at the far end of the rack, where it had been defying her for months. She should have burned the god damn thing but every time she reached for it, her hand pulled back of its own accord.

Not today. She let it fall over her, oversized for her frame and too long, and changed from slacks to leggings and pumps to bare feet, her toes curling from the cold hardwood floors.

Kara had already taken up position on the couch and had put on one of her beloved movies, one they’d already watched together ten times and Kara had probably already seen ten times more. The Princess Bride.

It was a cheap ploy and Lena knew it.

It gouged at her anyway, leaving something raw in her chest. It ripped open every place she’d forced to herself to scab over, broke every stitch. She killed the lights, halfway out of tradition and halfway to make sure Kara didn’t see her fighting back the tears.

Neither of them spoke. They sat on opposite ends of of the couch. When the food arrived, Kara got up to get it from the driver and her absence was keen, the void she left behind ripping at Lena.

When she sat down again right next to her, Lena let her. She shoved a box of take out into Lena’s lap and insisted she eat. They ate in silence.

Kara’s heart wasn’t in it. She are aimlessly rather than shoving her food in her mouth and gobbling it all down in minutes as she usually did. She was pretending, hard.

Lena barely paid any attention to the movie. The food, normally seasoned and spiced to the point where she couldn’t stand it and ate only to please Kara, was bland and tasteless in her mouth.

Kara, haltingly and hesitantly, put her head on Lena’s shoulder, and winced when Lena’s shoulders hitched. Why the fuck was she doing this to herself?

The worst part was that it didn’t hurt. It felt like home. Even now after all she had done and all that Kara had done and said, feeling Kara’s sadness in her soft weight beside her was ripping her apart, the mad anger and rage swept aside by a torrent of grief she couldn’t hold back.

If she was going to pretend she might as well pretend. She put her arm around Kara and leaned into her, nuzzling her nose into Kara’s soft hair, wondering if her alleged best friend ever noticed that Lena’s favorite thing in the entire stupid fucked up world was a Kara Danvers hug and nothing was more precious to her than these times when she almost kissed the crown of Kara’s head.

How she ached.

The movie ended and Netflix began making suggestions.

“Kara,” Lena murmured. “Let’s go to sleep.”

“If we go to sleep the night will be over,” her voice was small, trembling.”

“I know, darling. Just let it be what it is.”

Kara nodded.

Lena’s pulse was pounding as she headed for the bedroom, wondering how Kara had never picked up on how decidedly unplatonic it was to fall asleep in each other’s arms. Neither spoke as they climbed into Lena’s California King, a bed big enough to drown in, sinking beneath a goose down comforter, Kara’s body heat like old coals from a campfire.

For a moment they lay apart, and then slowly came together in their usual way, Kara forming herself into a protective cocoon to shield Lena from… from everything. Morgan Edge, her brother, alien shotgun weddings, random nuts with a gun and a grudge, everything but the greatest threat, her worst enemy.

“I have to go in the morning,” Kara whispered, “so I better say this now. You are not a monster, Lena. I never wanted to ‘keep an eye on you’ other than to protect you and keep you safe. No matter what you do, I will never, ever give up believing in you, but if you want me gone, that’s what I have to do. I love you so much it hurts me. I can’t stand being apart from you but if that’s what you need from me that’s what I’ll give. I would do anything for you. If moving on is what you want…”

Kara took a ragged breath.

“As you wish.”

Lena felt something crack inside her. An image filled her mind: Kara. Kara with graying hair, walking away, walking off into the sunset like the hero she was, and with someone else… with a child between them, a future, a home…

“God damn you, Kara Danvers!” Lena snapped, shocked at the sound of her own voice. “God damn you for making me feel this way! Do you have any idea what you did to me? I can’t just turn it off, I can’t stop feeling.”

“This was a terrible idea,” Kara sighed. “I should have known better. I’m just hurting you more.”

Kara began pulling away.

Lena threw out her arms, locked her hands behind the neck of the most powerful being on the entire planet, and yanked. Hard.

Their lips came together in a crash. The force was all Lena’s, as Kara’s inhuman might yielded to her control. There were no words. Kara hesitated for a shocked moment before she kissed Lena back, looping her arms around Lena’s waist.

This was no stolen glance, no innuendo, no coy hint. When Lena kissed Kara she made as if to devour her, and was mounting her before she realized she was doing it. Kara yielded, she always yielded even when Lena pinned her wrists to the mattress and clamped her legs around Kara’s hips and ground on her like a horny teenager.

She kept expecting Kara to sputter, to push back… to be fucking straight, to be brutally honest about her intentions, but there was nothing straight in the way Kara shifted to grind against her, or the way she twisted her hands free and slid them under the soft Midvale High Sweatshirt and skimmed them over the bare skin of Lena’s back. There was no mistaking the intent of her kisses or the feral sound she made when the shedding of clothing began.

Lena must have shocked her at first, because when Kara recovered, she became a force of nature. Lena was quickly on her back and let out an excited yelp when Kara simply tore her leggings apart and bared her with a feral grin on her face before shedding her top with the same desperate energy.

When they came together, really came together, Lena was nearly overwhelmed. Kara was insatiable, relentless. Hokey cliches like “force of nature” were woefully inadequate.

She never ran out of stamina and she was gentle when needed and forceful when Lena wanted it, every stoke and motion and caress somehow perfect, and she sensed without needing to be told when Lena was ready to give rather than receive and yielded without a word.

They barely even had to talk, and when Lena was finally exhausted, Kara was there with kind touches and soft words and cared for her like the most precious thing in the world.

Lena fell asleep, deeply and soundly, and when she woke up with the sun on her skin and an empty bed she wondered if it was all an elaborate dream until she heard Kara humming halfway across the penthouse, grabbed the sweatshirt, and padded barefoot from the bedroom.

Kara was at the stove cooking breakfast and holding a spatula like a microphone, singing… a fucking Britney Spears song.

“I thought you were going to leave in the morning,” Lena sighed.

Kara froze.

“I’m glad you didn’t. I’d have to come get you.”

Kara turned to her with a billion watt smile.

“I was lying about leaving you alone.”

Lena walked over, arms around her waist, hugging herself. She cupped Lena’s chin with a hooked finger and the casual intimacy of it made Lena’s heart swell.

“I love you so much. I can’t breathe without you,” Kara whispered.

Lena took Kara’s wrist and guided her hand to cup her cheek, nuzzling against the soft skin of Kara’s palm.

“Stay?”

Kara nodded.

[ghouljams]

Happy Haunting

Rating: E (MDNI) Tags: Ghost!Ghost x f!reader, dub-con, temperature play, nipple play, fingering, squirting, unconventional blindfolds, bullshit ghost magic Summary: The veil is lifted, but you haven't quite figured out how that all works yet.

You almost anticipate it now, being awoken by hands and mouths, by the blunt press of an unseen cock and the swipe of transparent tongues. You can track the cycle of the moon by it, by the shadows cast along the floorboards. The broad shoulders of a man hunched over you, the slide of his hands, the roll of his hips, the coursing of moonlight through his form that leaves you so achingly deprived. Seeing his face again, seeing his body without the barrier of rage, is all you yearn for, all you ask for when he takes his fill from you.

The night is so dark when you lay down. That must be why it startles you to feel his teeth sinking into your breast. The clock chimes and you are suddenly accosted by his already full mouth. His body heavies on the mattress, the weight of him curled over you in the pitch black of the room as he fixes his mouth over your chest and bites to bruise. You can feel the heaviness of him in the dip of the bed under his knees, by the firm press of his hand against your mons as his fingers spread your folds.

You whine and he releases the delicate skin, rolls his tongue over the wet indents, moves to target another spot. He wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks, his tongue circling and poking at the bud. It's like ice. The chill grips you, makes goosebumps race over your skin and your nipple tightens to a stiff peak as you shiver. It doesn't deter your ghostly visitor, if anything it eggs him on. The wet slip of his tongue against your skin makes your eyes squeeze shut, the cold press of it yields to your skin in a way your brain can't rationalize.

Soft, mobile, ice.

The fact that the room is still pitch black only adds to the sensation. Your body on full alert to every touch, jolting like it's been struck every time his tongue grazes you. You can't anticipate his movements, can't even see yourself to know what marks he's already left.

His fingers, at least, have the warmth they've stolen from where they pinch at your clit. The heat of your desperate sex evening out the conflicting temperatures to an unfamiliar lukewarm that you're starting to find yourself craving. Inhuman, but tantalizingly so. Deft fingers rub and stroke over your cunt, slipping against the growing wetness as the mouth on your breast drags its tongue to the other one. The beads of drool that slip down your sternum leave you shuddering. Your teeth dig into your lip to keep from chattering as the cold air of your house claws over the ice-y spit your ghost leaves behind.

Perhaps that's why you find his mouth leaves you wanting. Unfairly teasing at your warm skin, leaving your breast aching, your nipple reaching for a muscle it barely knows. You ghost sinks his teeth into your other breast and you groan. They're harsher this time, over-eager. He takes advantage of his weight, grabs your hand when it's flown to grip his shoulder and presses it heavy against the pillow beside your head.

The draw of his shuddering breath sounds like panting. There's wheezing of his severed windpipe, and the drip of his blood, a wetness where you can never find a pool, sliding over your stomach to disappear before it hits the sheets, and panting. Like the man he is, taken by his own ministrations, subject of his own desires. You wonder if he digs his teeth into your meat so deeply because he has none of his own, if its envy that drives him to press his fingers into your warmth, or if it's simpler than that. A man driven by lust alone may not be better.

These thoughts don't stop the noise that forces itself from your chest when his finger crook. His thick digits thrusting hard into your cunt, shallow and fast. Intent follows the swirl of his tongue as it spirals closer to your nipple, the icicle heat of it making you arch into his touch. The movement forces your hips down onto his fingers, which must give him an idea the way he freezes.

His tongue leaves your skin, and your feel the tip of his head as he tilts it to watch you. His thumb rubs at your clit and you buck, the tight bud tingling with need under his lukewarm attention.

"Tha's it," He rasps, "Fuck y'rself on my fingers, lemme see ya work for my cock."

You whine, turn your face against the pillow and squeeze your eyes shut. It doesn't make much difference open or closed, you're blind in the darkness of the room. That doesn't stop the mirthful chuckle that escapes your ghost's lips as you try to turn away from him. It does make him jab his fingers in a bit deeper, abandoning the soft spot that leaves you putty in his hands in favor of wiggling his fingers against your gummy walls.

You shift your hips to get him back where you want him and he hums, pleased.

Tentatively, you rock your hips onto his fingers. You're sure it won't be as good but he meets your shallow movement with a precises thrust and your eyes roll. You try it again, and meet the same result. You move and so does he, your hips working to push onto his fingers, and your lip caught between your teeth as you focus on his request. It carves a burning trail through your hips, your stomach tight as you enjoy the steady pressure against your g-spot.

It's only too bad you can't move your hips fast enough to get what you really want.

"Ghost-"

"Ah ah," He stops you, "know my name now baby, you ask me-" He draws in air, steals it from your own lungs as he pulls his fingers free of your cunt to rub your clit, "-properly."

"Simon," You whimper. His fingers rub hard and fast over your clit. Your orgasm draws tight in your stomach, and your hole drools with slick. Desperate. Debauched. Your fingers claw at his cold skin as his mouth attaches itself to your nipple again. "I want to come. Plea-ease." Your cunt clenches tight as his teeth bite into your nipple, and roll the tight bud between the sharp dentition.

The chill of his tongue does little to sooth you, but the slide of his fingers back to your cunt melts through the pain. He moves to give your other breast the same treatment as he starts to fuck you with his fingers in earnest.

You can hear the sloppy wet sounds of his fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy, the slap of his hand against your skin. He pulls at your breast, his teeth still closed firmly around the tight nipple, tugging it away from your body only to let the soft skin fall back.

He spits on your chest, just as you feel the tight dam break. Your cunt pulses, your stomach pulls tight, and liquid trickles from you. Only to be splashed back onto your thighs by the ever present thrust of Simon's fingers. He works you through your orgasm, through the icy slide of his spit between your tits, and doesn't let up. You scramble to push at his hand, the overwhelming feeling or coming starting to rush into an overload of sensation.

It works. Simon mercifully pulls his fingers from you, and you feel your muscles unspool onto the mattress. He even releases your other hand-

And climbs up your hips to settle over your chest.

Your breath shudders out of you, your ribs held between his thick thighs and your hand guided to grip his fat cock as he positions himself comfortably.

"Give it a stroke love, wanna see ya paint that pretty face." You hold your tongue out for him, and feel his thumb pin it in place. "Greedy little slut aren't ya," He hums, "try not to get any in your eyes."

As if you have any choice in the matter with the lights off.

Divider by @/saradika-graphics

[strawberryfatstuff]

escape

Imagine being stuck in a cell, with a ginormous feast being placed in front of you every day and only allowed to leave once you can eat it all in one sitting

You wake up, disoriented. you look around, nothing in your dark surroundings but a bed and a table. suddenly, you hear a commotion of people in robes, faces covered, rush to bring something onto the barren table in your cell. They disappear in a flash, all that’s left behind is an absolute banquet. A feast that could overfeed about 30 people at a buffet, piled with junk food. Rich creamy pastas, pizza stacked upon pizza, a plate of burgers piled high enough you wondered how it hadn’t fallen over, and piles upon piles of sugary desserts with the most delicious smells filling the room. You wonder if this was supposed to be your last meal, but your thoughts were cut short, by the greedy rumblings of your belly. You were starving, and decided there was nothing else left to do but dig in.

Almost a year has gone by, but to you it had felt like a lifetime. You would wake, stuff yourself with reckless abandon with no fear of judgement or consequences, and go back to sleep. There was no way to tell how often the meals were being brought to you, in fact the only way to tell that time had passed at all was what it had all been doing to your body. When you had first woken up, you had been reasonably thin, maybe a small potbelly from the occasional lack of willpower from time to time but nothing to worry about. Now however, you had grown immensely. If there had been any chance of holding back in attempt to save your figure it had long since flown out the nonexistent window. Your belly had swelled outward, inflated, and sagged lower, you had noticed any sights of what had been your feet had become less and less frequent. Your legs had become heavy with fat, the fat on your thighs threatening to overlap your knees, and the beginning signs of cankles showing on your calves. Your tits had grown substantially, with rolls forming along the sides making your puffy arms rest a little higher than they had before. However, you had certainly done a number on that buffet, having before only been able to stomach a pizza at most you had started to get creative, wrapping burgers with entire pizzas and shoving them into your rapidly swelling gut with as much force and speed as you could. It was the only pastime you had really, so you made the most of it by constantly testing the bursting point of your greedy gut.

It had been a few years of endless feasting before you had begun to notice your mobility diminishing. You were now able to eat enough to feed a large family before slowing down, but your travel from your bed had begun leaving you winded, and took great deal of effort to take your lumbering waddle over to your meals. Your stomach of course, the culprit. Its rolls had swelled with fat so much it now hung down past your knees, fighting your wobbling thighs for space. your knees and feet had long since been covered by the swell of constant calories you had been shoving in. Your elbows had long since disappeared under the size your upper arms had ballooned to. The next day you had woken up, with the familiar smell of food filling your senses, and attempted to get out of bed. You struggled to gasp for air, trying with feeble attempts to propel yourself with enough momentum to get forward, and more importantly, your meal. Each attempt was rather hindered by amount of gut covering your lap. Suddenly, the masked people reentered into your room, and instead of leaving the food on the table, they pick it up piece by piece and began feeding it to you. One after another they stuffed greasy food straight into your greedy belly. The speed they each filled your mouth was almost too fast to chew, forcing you to swallow bigger bites as quickly as you could. “Please, go a little slower” you tried to call out between bites of food, but only one of them replied, “Too bad, you should have never been as greedy as you were in the first place. Fat fucks like you don’t get a say in this matter.”They continued to stuff your face, and once you had eaten enough to feel sick of your usual feast, you cried for them to stop. They fed you their last handfuls, and quickly as they had came, they left. One lingering long enough to instal what looked like a hose coming out of the ceiling.

The next time you awoke, you expected to to greeted by your usual meal of the table, but you noticed that the table had been removed from your room entirely. The only thing that caught your eye was the hose they had left the day before. Starving, you placed it in your mouth and began to suck out of desperation. You were instant met with what tasted like the blend of greasy food you had been eating for years. you noticed at the corner of your bed they had also left a small device, with words _ out of _ eaten. The lights being too dim to properly read, you cast it out of your brain and begun swallowing. It felt so good, the constant flow of calories filling your overstretched gut. You watch it rise with every gulp you fill it with, greed and lust overpowering you with the desire to fill it as big as possible. There was no way to tell how long you spent swallowing, only the rapid expansion of your body. each time you took a nap you would awake with your belly before you looking visibly larger then it had before.

This continued for what felt like eons, a never ending cycle of consuming and growing. your feet had been consumed completely, your arms stuck at a permanent angle, the fat surrounding your head keeping it in place, and your belly. So large it had grown over your swollen feet, and threatened to cover the rest of the bed. One day, as you swallowed, you heard a beep. You wondered if it had been the strange device that had long since been hidden under the concerningly large rolls swelling out from your massive gut. Just then, you were blinded by a bright light, as the door to your cell cracked with dust and opened, with the masked people watching you from the hallway connected. A familiar voice from among them, “You’re free to to go whenever you want fatty, the doors wide open.” And laughed. They all had begun laughing, shook their heads, and walked away. You paused swallowing to see if you could still escape, and tried to move your feet for the first time in ages. The response you received was a ripple of fat that jiggled your whole body. What had been so great about the outside world away? Your belly growled, it’s lust to be filled overpowering any thought you had remaining. You caress your growing belly, and continue to swallow.

[littleprinces]

Secret Relationship

Pharita x Male Reader

(Incest, Blood-Related, Anal, Daddy Kink)

I have a daughter from my ex-girlfriend, and her name is Pharita. She came into my life unexpectedly, but she quickly became the center of my world. Over the years, I've watched her grow into an amazing young woman, full of strength, intelligence, and kindness. Now that she's 19, it's hard to believe how fast time has flown. Despite the complexities of my relationship with her mother, Pharita and I have developed a deep bond that only grows stronger with time. Watching her navigate her own path in life has been one of the most fulfilling experiences for me, and I couldn't be prouder of the person she's become.

One day, I was working in my home office when Pharita came in to ask me a question. She was wearing a t-shirt and shkrt pants that left nothing to the imagination. I felt my cock stir in my pants as I looked at her.

"Do you need something, Baby?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Yeah, I was wondering if you could help me with something," she said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

I nodded, and she came over to my desk, bending over so that I had a perfect view of her ass in that tiny pants. I couldn't take it anymore. I reached out and grabbed her, pulling her onto my lap.

She gasped as she felt my hard cock pressing against her ass. "Daddy," she whispered, but she didn't push me away.

"I've wanted you for so long, Pharita," I said, my hands wandering over her body. "I know it's wrong, but I can't help it."

"But Daddy, I'm your daughter" she gasped and she can't ignore my hands in her body. She kissed me deeply, her tongue exploring my mouth. I could feel my cock throbbing with need.

I reached down and pulled off her short pants, revealing her perfect, tight little ass. I couldn't believe I was finally going to fuck her. I spit on my fingers and rubbed them over her asshole, getting it nice and wet.

"Are you ready, Pharita?" I asked, my cock poised at the entrance to her ass.

"Yes, Daddy," she said, nodding.

I pushed inside her, feeling her tight muscles clench around me. It was heaven. I started to fuck her slowly, savoring the feeling of her ass wrapped around my cock when she is on my lap now.

"Oh, Daddy, yes," she moaned, her hands gripping the edges of the desk. "Fuck my ass harder."

I grabbed her hips and started to fuck her harder, her hole is really tight, my balls slapping against her ass. She was moaning and gasping, begging me to fuck her deeper.

"Yes daddy, don't fucking stop my ass" Pharita moan harder

"I'm going to breed your ass, Pharita," I growled, feeling my orgasm building.

"Yes, Daddy, breed my ass," she cried, her body shaking with pleasure.

I felt my cock swell and then explode, filling her ass with my hot cum. We both collapsed onto the desk, panting and sweating.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Happy Anniversary M’Love.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

anniversary masterlist here !!

authors note - can you believe that it’s my blogs one year anniversary?? time has simply gone by so fast and im so thankful kill for everyone that has been there along the way 🥲 i adore each and every single one of you. 🥹

warning: smut.

word count - 1.6k

in which, it’s your and your husbands first wedding anniversary, he’s flown the two of you out to the country where it all began, hired a boat and got you all to himself, what more could he ask for?

May 22, 2023.

Exactly one year ago, in the intimate courtyard of your Italian villa, you said "I do" to the absolute love of your life.

The memory of that day is etched in your mind like a cherished painting. Surrounded by your closest friends and family, under the canopy of Mediterranean skies, you exchanged vows that echoed the depth of your love for each other.

The scent of Tuscan flowers mingled with the laughter and joy that filled the air, creating a moment suspended in time.

Now, as you celebrate your one-year wedding anniversary, back in the picturesque town of Civita di Bagnoregio where it all began, he surprised you with a romantic gesture that makes your heart skip a beat.

He had rented a boat for the two of you, a symbol of the journey you've embarked on together.

As the boat gently rocks on the tranquil waters, you and Harry find yourselves hidden away from the world, cocooned in the intimate embrace of the bedroom.

You lay sprawled on the soft mattress, your eyes tracing the contours of Harry's back as he applies sunscreen with gentle strokes.

His tattoos dance beneath his touch, each one telling a story of his journey through life. You're mesmerized by the way his muscles flex and ripple beneath his skin, a testament to his strength and resilience.

Silently, you rise from the bed, the gentle sway of the boat beneath you barely perceptible as you make your way over to where Harry stands by the dresser. With a mischievous smile playing on your lips, you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him close as you press tender kisses along his back.

The taste of sunscreen lingers on your lips, but you pay it no mind, lost in the sensation of Harry's warmth beneath your touch. He lets out a surprised laugh, turning to face you with a quizzical expression.

"What are you doing?" he asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You simply hum in response, your lips trailing a path of soft kisses along the expanse of his back, reveling in the feel of his skin against yours.

Each touch ignites a spark of desire within you, fueling the fire that burns between you.

Feeling Harry's hand press against your waist, drawing you closer, sends a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. His other hand gently tilts your head upward, his eyes locking with yours in a silent promise of passion.

As his lips meet yours in a tender kiss, the world around you fades into insignificance, leaving only the sweet taste of his love lingering on your lips.

The softness of his touch ignites a fire within you, spreading warmth throughout your body as you melt into his embrace.

With each gentle caress, the intensity of your connection deepens, a silent symphony of desire and longing that binds you together in perfect harmony.

With a playful glint in his eyes, Harry whispers,

"Jump."

You chuckle softly, wrapping your legs around his waist and jumping into his arms. His strong embrace catches you effortlessly, his warmth enveloping you as he holds you close.

As you lock eyes with Harry, a mischievous smile plays on your lips.

"Well, here I am," you tease, your heart racing with excitement.

Harry's grin widens, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"And here I am," he replies, his voice laced with a hint of desire.

Before you can say another word, he presses his lips against yours once more, the kiss igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume your every thought.

Lost in the intensity of the moment, you let out a soft hum of approval, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepen the kiss.

Breaking away slightly, you meet his gaze with a playful glint in your eye.

"Take me to bed," you whisper, your voice filled with longing.

Harry's grin turns into a smirk as he carries you towards the bedroom, each step filled with anticipation.

"As you wish," he murmurs, his eyes never leaving yours.

As he gently lays you down on the bed, you find yourself surrounded by warmth and desire, the world outside fading into insignificance as you lose yourselves in each other's embrace.

He doesn’t hesitate in removing the green bikini top from your body, never once removing his lips from your skin, once the bikini top is removed you watch as he slowly makes his way down the bed, stopping at your legs, you can see the prominent tent forming underneath his swim shorts.

A soft moan fell from your lips as he pressed a delicate kiss to the nape of your neck, throwing your head back.

Your hands make there way to his chest, placing a hand over his heart, feeling it race underneath your fingertips.

“M’need you,” he begs, pupils blown. “Need you so bad, baby.”

Your body tensed as his hand edged closer and closer to the hem of your bikini bottoms, your eyes following his hands every move.

“Thought I’d have t’wait until later to get you like this,” he nips at your inner thigh. “Thought I’d only get to have you back home.”

“No,” you shook your head. “You can have me whenever you want.”

And with that, he pressed his tongue against your nerves, making you throw your head back in absolute bliss and ecstasy, as your mind became clouded.

He continuously pressed his tongue against your clit, your head hitting the pillow, eyes wide as every feeling entered your body.

He always made you feel so, so good.

“H-Harry,” you struggle to speak his name as you pulled and tugged at his curls, well the curls that were slowly growing back. “I’m close, so fucking close.”

He hadn’t been going at it for long, but he knew how to get you closer to the edge no matter how long he had.

He had his ways.

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” he raised his head from between your thighs and through hooded eyes you saw his face, your juices slipping down his chin.

You attempted to wrap your leg around his waist to get him closer to you, but before you had the chance he pinned your leg back down onto the bed. “Relax, take it all in.”

This time, he slid a finger in, making you throw your head back once again, your heart pounding.

“I’m close,” you whimpered. “Please H, let me come, please.”

He smirked above you, “Okay sweetheart, come f’me, come for y’gorgeous husband.”

And with that, you came undone.

Your moans filled the room of the boat, thankful that you were the only two on board, your chest was heaving and your hands were sweaty from gripping his arms.

He slowly crept his way back up the bed, his hands slowly snaking into his own shorts and sliding them down his legs, and that was when you caught sight of his length, it was dripping with pre-cum and the vein down the side of it was deep, and very very prominent.

“Do y’see what you do to me?” He muses.

He brought his hand to his shaft and pumped it a few times, his eyes rolling into the back of his head slightly. “Y’make me like this? Y’make me feel like the luckiest man in the world, y’know why?”

You gulped and shook your head.

He pinched your waist. “Because your all mine.”

He lined himself up with your entrance, the tip of his length nudgin against your entrance.

The two of you had discussed a couple of months ago that you were ready to start trying for a baby, and so that meant no condoms and going raw.

“Are you ready for me?”he quizzed, grabbing ahold of your hand as he nudged his tip a bit further.

“Yes.”

And just like that he pushed himself all of the way inside.

One hand remained in yours whilst the other pressed itself against your stomach, he watched you through hooded eyes. “Can you feel that?”

He kept thrusting in and out of you, him doing the majority of the work as you raised the other hand to hold the side of his face, brushing against his stubble.

“Can y’feel me deep inside of you baby?” He raised an eyebrow as you watched a bead of sweat travel from his hair line. “Can you feel me filling you up, giving you m’babies.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded your head at his words, he knew the effect he had on you. “Uh-huh.”

His lips pressed against yours, he knew you were close again, he was as well, he knew that the second you came undone, he would be an absolute goner.

His thrusts became harder as he watched your mouth drop open, eyes glossing over.

“Come on baby,”He pressed his hand down against her bundle, and a low whine escaped her mouth. “Show your husband just how good he makes you feel.”

He was panting, continuing to do all of the work.

“Come on,” he urged “Come f’your husband.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your mouth dropped open once again, a small whimper of his name falling from your lips.

He watched from above you, and that was when you noticed through a starry gaze that his thrusts were become out of rhythm and slightly lethargic.

“Baby,” he whimpered out the common pet name, dropping his head to your clavicle as he came undone inside of you. “Oh baby.”

Both of you were sweaty as he dropped himself down onto your chest, your boobs squashed against his chest.

He lifted his head up slightly, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, as he grabbed ahold of your hand, the cool metal of his wedding ring clashing with the cool metal of your wedding band.

“Happy Anniversary, M’love.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Miracle II

Aitana Bonmatí x Baby!Reader

Summary: Aitana babyproofs

The first night you are with her...

Well, the first night you are with her as a Bonmatí, is a stressful one.

You cry.

And then you stop.

Then you cry again when she sets you down for bed.

It's still early by Atiana's standards but it's gone seven and all the baby books say it's perfect bedtime for little babies.

But you just don't seem to want to settle and Aitana can't think of what she's done wrong. She's moved you into your own room now with little glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling to occupy you. You're newly washed and warm in your fluffy onesie and you're holding the little pegasus plushie Aitana bought you when you were born.

She's followed the books to a tee and yet you still cried.

You cried and cried and whined for your Ta-Ta until Aitana picked you up and you settled again.

She has no choice but to drag your crib straight back into her room because you refuse to settle anywhere else.

But, apart from that small hiccup, you are a golden baby.

You are soft and sweet and make little happy gurgling sounds whenever you see your Mama Ta-Ta.

It all goes so well and Aitana doesn't know what she was worrying about until you learn how to walk. She was impressed at first, you were on the younger end when you learnt and she's very impressed when you just got up one day from where you're playing on your mat to walk over to the kitchen where Aitana is making dinner.

You raise your arms for her and she instantly picks you up.

All you wanted was your Mama Ta-Ta.

The issue comes when Aitana realises just how many sharp corners are in her house and just how quickly you have transitioned from wobbly steps to proper walking.

"Sorry, Tana," Marta says when Aitana asks about babyproofing during a break in practice. She's talking to her Aitana but her eyes are focused on where her Conejita and Caro are making flower crowns together. "I never had to do that for Conejita. She didn't walk until quite late and she never really strayed far."

Aitana can believe that. Even now Conejita is a careful child. She doesn't run and doesn't play rough. She just chooses a space and sits and weaves flowers together.

So, Aitana turns to Mapi and Ingrid.

They're sitting a bit further away as little Skatt is letting a beetle climb all over her fingers.

Ingrid has a similar response.

"Skatt never moved very fast," Ingrid says," It was easy to occupy her."

"I think you can order these foam things that clip onto corners," Mapi offers, hooking her hand around the inside of Skatt's collar to pull her closer when she tries to wander after where the beetle has flown off to," You could try those."

And Aitana does. She orders them as soon as she gets home while occupying you with a sensory programme about space.

You like that kind of thing, Aitana has learnt and your room (which you now more frequently sleep in) is full of stars and planets and the mobile that hangs above your crib is a replica of the solar system and sings a silly song about how to name each planet.

Her corner guards come within the hour after Aitana pays an extortionate price for sameday delivery. The ring of the doorbell makes you turn your head but your interest is captured once again by the spinning stars and comets so Aitana feels safe babyproofing the apartment while you watch your video.

She's just clipping on the last of the guards when there's a tug on her shorts. She's not surprised to see you standing there. Your video finished a few minutes ago and the soft pad of your socked feet were ones Aitana was used to now.

"Hola, estrella," She coos at you.

You babble nonsense for a while before lifting up your arms. "Ta-Ta."

"Alright," Aitana says," Uppies, it is." She lifts you up onto her hip and you take the time to poke at the new corner guards.

Your little brows furrow and Aitana can't help but think about how much you look like her when you do that.

"It's to protect your head," She explains to you," So you can go running around and not hurt yourself."

You poke it again in confusion, legs kicking out before you huff and rest your head against Aitana's chest.

"Tar," You whine and Aitana knows that word in your language too.

She laughs. "Alright, we can watch the dancing stars again."

You must know she's agreed because you burst into ecstatic giggles as she walks you back to the sofa.

Both Marta and Ingrid had warned her about the mindless, boring videos she would now have to watch as your mother but Aitana finds that she doesn't quite mind.

She'll sit through mindless kid's shows forever if it means keeping you in her arms.

But, it seems that you don't want to be in her arms right now as you spot your stuffed pegasus lying by the corner from earlier.

Aitana lets you go, watching as you pad very carefully over to your toy. She sucks in a breath as you approach the corner. You stop just in front of it, staring.

You wrap your little hand around the corner and duck down with your other to grab your plushie. You pull yourself back up, patting the corner happily before wandering back to Aitana.

You show her your toy.

"Ta-Ta, peg-sus."

She laughs. "That's right. Your pegasus. There's a constellation called pegasus. Is that why you like it so much?"

You giggle and gnaw on a wing.

She hefts you up onto her lap again and you rest your ear against her chest.

"Tar," You point at the tv.

"Alright, let me put on your stars."

[joontroverted]

kiss it better (nsfw)

husband! ran haitani x wife reader

fandom : tokyo revengers

word count : 2.9k

cw : anal beads, anal fingering, vaginal fingering, penetrative sex, daddy kink, reader is a brat, impregnantion talk, fluff! this is a sweet fic, i'll have you know 😤

twitter porn that inspired me!

video

happy reading!

ran comes home late often enough that it's not an issue.

his schedule is erratic. he doesn't work every single night, but when he's called to work he's gone, and almost unreachable too. and he's definitely coming home late on those days.

between the two of you (two sleepy people) he knows it's no hard feelings to come home to you fast asleep. he just strips off, does a quick shower, speedruns through his unskippable skin care routine and settles into bed with you. one arm snaked around your waist and into your panties, two fingers in your warm pussy, and he's out like a light.

it's a fun routine.

but you miss him.

sure, you have the sleepy mornings and the evenings filled with wine and whichever new little snack ran had flown in from God knows where, but you missed the nights.

the nights of opening your arms and legs for your man, undressing him, tumbling around in bed till you're both sore and filthy and then hopping in the tub for another round- ahem, a bath.

so tonight's the night!

you're adorned in a light blue lingerie set, the type that highlights your titties and has a crotchless panties. your usual home clothes are thrown on on top of this sexy get up because of the chill from the ac, and even though you've fought back many a yawn, the moment you hear scuffling and the beep of the lock, you throw off your loose clothes and position yourself spread across the sofa.

you watch as ran staggers into the foyer, stumbling, stifling a yawn. he makes a beeline past the hall and straight to the master bedroom without paying you even the slightest glance.

you sit there dumbfounded.

you can hear him tossing off his clothes, washing his face and finally turning the lamp by the nightstand on to do his skin care before he realises you're not in bed.

"sweetheart?"

you hear him jog out of the room, turn the corner and seeing you sitting on the sofa, all (sex) dolled up, and glaring holes into him.

"what are you- oh," he stops, eyes taking you in. "oh honey, come here," he calls you, spreading his arms.

you stare at him and get up, and walk past him to your bedroom.

"honey? honey! baby, i'm so sorry, it's so late and it's been such a long day, this has nothing to do with- "

"literally die," you mutter, clambering onto the bed.

"are you wearing those crotchless panties?"

"die! go hang out with your precious besties! die!" you hiss, wrapping the blankets around yourself and settling in.

"baby- "

"i don't want to hear one fucking word ran haitani."

you shut your eyes, turning your face into the pillow, tears of anger stinging behind your shut eyelids. god, this was so humiliating more than anything. you were so excited, and the worst part is you can't even blame him, you know how tiring his days can get.

you hear him slowly sit down on the bed and turn the lamp off. no skincare, nothing, and he settles into bed next to you, almost spooning you, but giving you some space.

you feel his hand come up to stroke your hair.

"good night angel."

something's keeping you up.

you can't put a finger on what it is exactly.

you twist around and see ran fast asleep next to you, no doubt too exhausted to even pleade his case with you. his hand is on your pillow, having fallen asleep while stroking your hair. you had fallen asleep too, but something woke up you up around twenty minutes ago, and you can't seem to figure out what.

the temperature of the room is perfect. chill, but not cold. the blankets aren't too heavy to make you hot. you aren't hungry and you just took a few sips of water some time back when you had woken up.

so what is it?

do you miss ran? do you miss the contact of him spooning you?

no... not that you wouldn't miss it, but more like you and ran moved around in bed a lot while you sleep so you aren't always touching each other.

no, this is something more related to your body.

for a second you wonder if you're secretly pregnant.

no.

you press a hand on your stomach. you feel like you're close to the problem, because now you can zero in on something inside you being wrong, but pregnant? no. not even food poisoning, you didn't eat anything disagreeable.

something inside you...

"ran. ran!"

you shake him, and if you weren't so taken aback, you would've stopped to admire how gorgeous he is. his purple and black hair fans out on his forehead, and his chest gently rises and falls. he really could be a model, his strong angular jaw and his angelic features uniting masculinity and femininity to create such beauty.

"ran!" you smack him across his face with your pillow.

"what, what, fuck!" he shouts, rising up to his elbows, his eyes flitting over you. his hands immediately roam over you before his eyes adjust to the dark to make sure that you're in one piece and not hurt in any way.

"wha' happened," he says gruffly, sitting up this time, his hands still on your waist protectively.

you falter, seeing how protective he is of you, and how much sexier he sounds with his voice deeper from sleep.

you bite your lip. "hi."

"what the fuck happened," he blinks at you slowly, like he can't believe this situation. he's just been forced awake by his panicked little wife who had just been screaming and now you're sitting pretty, hair mussed, bra strap sliding off your shoulder, eyes wide, looking ditzy.

"um, nothing much. what's up with you?" you shrug, looking down.

"i'm going to count to three- "

he doesn't even have to finish his sentence for you to start talking. you know all too well what happens when he counts to three.

"so you know how i dressed up for you and then you so very rudely ignored me?"

"i apologized for that, and you told me to die."

"yeah, that."

he stares at you. "and?" he prompts.

"i didn't actually want you to die."

that makes him crack a little smile. "why thank you. that's one less person now. unfortunately the list's a bit too long for me to be in the clear, honey."

you scrunch up your face at that. ran's a terrible person. you forget that sometimes. his worst crime is probably torture and homicide, not kicking your plushie off the bed.

"was that all?" he asks, thumb stroking your waist. "can we sleep now?"

"no," you say firmly. and then you mumble something.

"what?"

"there's something inside me."

"what did all those creampies pay off," he laughs. "wait a minute, did they?" his face morphs into horror.

"no, jesus. this is less scary."

"just spit it out already!"

"fine! when i was waiting for you, i..." you shift. "um i stuffed myself with some... beads," you trail off, nodding, glad that the lights are off, so he can't see you clearly.

ran leans to the nightstand and flicks the lamp on, making eye contact with you. well there goes decency. he looks at you, his face a mix of disbelief and criticism. "you stuffed yourself with some beads."

you nod again, unable to look at him.

he grabs your face and forced you closer. "you stuffed yourself with the anal beads i bought you and told you that i would help you with."

"i wanted to surprise you okay?"

"and then you fell asleep with them inside you. who was that for? the icu when they surgically remove them from you? what if i couldn't come home tonight?"

"fine!" you pull yourself away from him. he had spent his entire life being both a brother and a father to rindou that when he brought up his stern voice he could be so goddamn condescending. "i'll do it myself then! i don't need your help anyways!"

you most definitely did need his help.

and that's why you find yourself laid on your tummy between ran's spread legs, him having pulled your hips towards him, ass facing him, legs locked around his back. your bra was tossed to the side, and your crotchless panties dangle from your ankle in sad defeat.

ran had sat back quietly, arms folded as he watched you try to pull the beads out. he didn't say a word, but watched you seriously, as though he were a teacher watching his student helplessly mess up an equation even further. the scrutiny sure didn't help, and only made you more tense.

you sniffle.

"and whose fault is it that you're in this position, huh?"

"yours."

you get a sharp slap on your left asscheek.

"it's my fault! i'm sorry!"

you can't see him, but you're sure he's enjoying this. ran's rather laidback and chill, but all of that is made up for with how much of a stern disciplinarian he is in situations like this.

he pulls your ass closer and your pussy settles on his crotch, feeling his thick and hard cock beneath his boxers. you snicker.

"what was that for, slut?" he asks, giving you a harsh pinch on your other cheek.

you squeal and kick your feet. "nothing. just nice to know you missed me too."

"hmm," he hums, taking you in.

you really are the stupidest little girl in the world. of course he misses you. he'd be mad not to. the light of his life. he loves his job, but he's been liking it less and less as it eats up all the time he keeps especialy for you. he's missed too many meetings and too many trips just to spend an evening watching a movie with you or a weekend away with you. and here you are, pitching a fit because apparently he doesn't miss you anymore.

as much as he chides you for your carelessness, it's landed his beautiful wife face down ass up, stuffed full in her ass with purple anal beads. all that could be seen of it was the glinting sea pearl that hung out like a charm from the base, with the backdrop of your pretty little pucker behind it.

he grabs the base and gives a little tug, causing you to yelp.

"you need to relax honey," he mutters, rubbing your back.

"well you're not helping with that," you grumble.

he rolls his eyes. he reaches for the lube and sees the half empty bottle and can't help but think about how much lube you had emptied within yourself trying to get it in in the first place, a finger pushing each bead in while the other hand poured lube on your gaping hole. his cock jumps at the image of that.

"hmm, what how can we get you to relax, huh? would a spanking work? you get pretty brainless from a good spanking, don't you honey? i was meaning to give you one in the morning just because of how you behaved with me."

you kick at the thought of that, heat filling your face, pussy pulsing at the thought. yes, unfortunately ran had trained you into taking his spankings well, but that would tense you up too much, and he knew that. he's just doing this to rile you up.

ran smirks as he watches your pussy squeeze around nothing, dampening. he's trained you well.

"but on second thought, maybe you need something more humiliating. you think i'm just wasting time hanging out with my guys at work, huh? how 'bout i handcuff you over the table with your panties pullled down, huh? so all the bad, bad men i work with can remind you of how tough this job is, huh?"

"no!" you whine, pushing your ass out. "no!"

he watches your pussy get wetter and wetter. he massages your lubed up hole with two fingers and slips two fingers inside you. you really were a sick girl. his sick girl.

"o- ohhh," you moan, as his thick, long fingers sink deeper inside you.

in and out, up and down. all while teases your asshole into opening. his finger swipe further and hurther in, scissoring before they finally curl down and hit your g spot.

"ran! ran! please, please, more!"

and that's when he slows down.

the rhythm he had built up slows down into a gentle massaging on your g spot.

"ran, what the hell? you're so- "

you falter as a another feeling takes over. an insistent pushing from in the inside of your hole.

plop!

"there we go," says ran, and you can hear the smile in his voice. " there's my big girl."

the first bead popped out, shiny and glossy, warm from your insides, lube dripping down it. your hole closes up again, and he presses down on your g spot again, causing you to let out a strangled cry.

"another one sweetheart," he coos, "relax for me?"

plop!

the second one pops out as your mind is lost from both the sensations. the bliss from having your g spot massaged combined with the odd pleasure that's coming from him playing with your hole.

plop!

"oh, there's another one," you murmur, dazed.

"my big girl can count can't she," he laughs. he sure has the fucking audacity. "last two honey."

you push your ass out and get onto your knees, chest pressed on the bed. he snickers at your eagerness and drives his fingers deeper in you, stroking away.

plop!

you feel lighter, both inside and in your head. you can't believe that for all your complaining, you're spending the night with your husband yanking anal beads out of your asshole. not even in a sexy way particularly. for the sake of not having a medical emergency.

"last one angel," he kisses you ass cheek. "can you do that for me?"

"uh huh."

"what do you say?"

"yes daddy," you keen as his fingers push deeper in you again. you feel his lips a feather light kiss on your perineum, and you can blush from how soft it feels.

he watches as the last bead slowly pushes it's way out of your hole with a final little plop!

watching your pretty hole gao almost sets something primal off in ran, and with a low growl he gets on his knee, one leg braced against the bed. he lowers his boxers and brings his heavy cock out that he had neglected for a little too long. the grinding of your pussy on his crotch wasn't nearly enough for what his eyes were feasting on.

the thick head of his tip slaps against your sloppy pussy and you whine, finally getting a taste of what you've been missing.

"give it to me ran, i've been waiting for too long."

"i know pretty, i've been gone for too long these days, haven't i?"

he pushes in, and that familiar feeling of being filled is back. you husband is back.

"daddy," you cry in ecstacy as his tip finally reaches the deepest it can go. "i love you."

"daddy's home honey," he pants, having mounted you finally, and now driving into to you. "i love you."

the pace picks up and you're boneless as ran's firm grip on your waist is all that's holding you up. he slams into you, his cock hitting all the right places as he leans down and covers all of you, holding you tight.

"i'm sorry angel, i'm sorry i haven't been home lately. but it's all for you, yeah. it's all so i can give you a beautiful life and make you a mama one day, nice and plump and spoiled."

"ohhh!" that sends a wave through you. "you wanna make me a mama?"

"yeah honey, you'll be a good mama, won't you? perfect girl?"

"yes, yes daddy," you cry, "i'm cumming, gonna come!"

"come for me angel," he pushes into you one final time, and you come together. the orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, causing you to sink under bliss as you feel him filling you up to the brim with his thick, warm cum.

he bites the crook of your neck and coos as he watches you shake underneath him.

"my wife," he whispers, pressing kisses down your neck. "my beautiful silly wife. i always miss you. i love you."

he turns you over, and you immediately twist your limbs into each others'. you smile as you look into his eyes, his hair still untouched despite it all. you reach out and mess it up, causing him to laugh and kiss your wrist.

"i love you," you mutter. "and i know you love spending time with me. i was just frustrated... and in need of a rough night with you. i don't actually want you to die."

"i know." he nods, giving you little kisses. "i'm the luckiest man alive to have a wife who loves me so much she stuffed herself full of the anal beads i told her not to use without me."

"my hole is sore," you groan as he nuzzles against your chest.

"bend over, i'll kiss it better."

reblogs, tagging, comments, likes and asks are HIGHLY APPRECIATED!!!

read my other tokyo revengers fic -

bully baji x popular reader fic

all right heathens. this one's done. pls hop on anon/asks and tell me i'm not alone in my insanity and you're this horny for this man too ❤️

[thegnomelord]

if you write a thing about the creaming the zussy i will kiss ur boots

The boots better be shining when you're done.

How To Cure Zombies 101

CW:NSFW MDNI, crackfic obv PiV sex, TLOU Clicker trans Ghost, Top Male Reader, established relationship, happy ending, dub-con because Simon consented before he got bit but reader is apprehensive, zombie sex (does it count as necro?) how does this work? idk porn logic. Don't ask me how this happened, i hope this doesn't become what my blog becomes known for.

When the Cordyceps spread across the planet and turned millions of people into shambling mushroom infested undead, the world ended.

When Simon got bitten. . . your world ended.

You still remember it like it had been yesterday; He came back bloody, an empty look in his eyes as he showed you the bite on his arm. Your hands shook as he wrapped them around the grip of the gun and aimed it at his head. You both ended up on the floor with you crying into his chest, unable to pull the trigger.

You remember the resigned look in his eyes when he had agreed to let you do whatever you needed to him to cure him, but both of you knew there was no way, what made you immune to the fungus was as mysterious to the rest of the world as it was for you. His lips had been burning hot when he laid a soft kiss on your forehead, the last sense of warmth you've felt since the docs took him to where they kept the infected for study, your heart leaving with him.

And now?

Now the scientists that have been prodding you like a lab rat since Simon got bitten nearly a year ago say they have a way to bring his mind back, to get Simon back.

And the way to do it?

"So let me get this straight?" You begin, your voice tense, your body even tenser. "You want me to fuck the corpse of my lover? And that will cure him?"

That. You're not sure how the eggheads arrived to this conclusion, frankly all of their scientific jargons had flown over your head. All you understood was that the man you had fallen since the first time you met him could be brought back.

You sincerely hope you won't make some type of super fungus through this.

Words can't describe what you feel as you look at Simon's (is it even Simon?) bound body writhing on the gyno chair, naked and bare to you. You doubt you even know what you feel, hope and fear simultaneously curling in your stomach— You hadn't had the courage to look at him ever since the scientists took him away; The harsh laboratory lights make it easy to see the mycelium filling his veins beneath the ashy pale skin, mushroom caps growing beneath his pecs and across all other scars he has. Red and yellow mushrooms have eaten away his nose and spread out to follow the contours of his face, growing in a way that makes the mushroom caps blend together into a skull shape.

Your heart aches when you see his eyes haven't been eaten away yet, the once deep brown turned milky white and staring lifelessly past you, thrashing about in the bindings, rotten teeth gnawing on the ball gag in his mouth, small hisses and malformed muffled clicks echoing through the room.

You try to look down and you stop at his stomach, forcing yourself to breathe in and out slowly because your heart is beating so fast it feels like you'll have a panic attack. You have no idea if this will work and doing this to Simon only to find out it's as useless as all your previous attempts to cure him. . . you're sure it would break you. Closing your eyes and counting to ten you will yourself to focus, your eyes opening slowly and following the trail of little mushroom caps down to his groin.

It's not what you expected., but it's. . . a lot; Mushroom caps have replaced the lips of his cunt, similar to the hard growths on his head but these look thinner and longer, almost like flower petals framing his cunt, bright red at the corners and getting progressively lighter as it nears his hole. A sort of morbid curiosity compels you to reach out brushing your fingertips against the caps. They're surprisingly softer than you had expected, smooth and slick with some kind of slime. You can't help but notice how a longer stalked mushroom grows from what had been his clit.

You jerk your hand back when a second brush of your fingers makes his body to jerk back and attempt to fight against the restraints, more angry clicks vibrating his throat.

But you also notice a kind of… sweet scent in the air and it's coming from him. Cautiously you brush against the caps again, slowly dipping your fingers under to touch the gills underneath. You keep your hand where it is when he thrashes again, but you're certain that smell is stronger now, and you catch the glimpse of clear viscous slick slowly leak from his hole.

Carefully you push a finger into his hole in an attempt to stretch him out. Logically you know that he probably doesn't feel it, but it feels wrong to just stick your cock in him; He's cold. You know he's dead but you had held out some hope that he would be warmer, that there would be some signs of life despite how stupid that sounds.

He's dry right now, but more of that clear fluid seeps around your fingers and lubes the way as you experimentally push your finger all the way up to the last knuckle, and you felt his muscles flutter around you, clenching down as if trying to draw you in deeper. His head continued to thrash around, no change in the feral behavior, but you still try to be gentle, pushing one then two fingers in and slowly scissoring him open.

You pull your fingers out when his hole has relaxed enough to let you easily slide your fingers in and out, and he's produced enough slick to completely drench your hand. You try to look at him as you press your cock against his fluttering hole, but the sight of his milky eyes almost makes you soft on the spot so you screw your eyes closed and slowly slide in.

Despite how cold and wet his cunt is, you haven't felt anyone's touch, even your own, since he got infected, and a part of you feels disgusted at how a bit of pleasure traces up your spine. He continues to hiss and click as you bottom out, his hips bucking wildly you have to press them down. You set a slower pace than you're used to, keeping your thrusts even and consistent, afraid to tear anything but your fear is seemingly misplaced. He's so much wetter than he'd ever get before he got infected, slick wetly squelching as you bottom out over and over again, clicks and snarls accompanying every move you make.

You're ashamed to say you don't last long. Fuck, is he tight you've been ignoring your body for so long that when you accidentally brush against the stalk growing from his clit and his cunt suddenly tightens up like a vice you cum on the spot, your hips doing little minute twitches as you empty so much of your cum in his cunt that your balls hurt. You pull out just as slowly, both of your mixed fluids leaking out and almost getting caught by the soft mushrooms framing his hole.

You muster up the courage to look him in the eyes, and your heart breaks when his lifeless eyes blindly stare back at you.

You feel like a fool when the first time doesn't work, he's still just a body pupated by a fungus. And you feel like an even bigger fool when you agree to do this a second time.

But the third time. . .

You don't know if it's just wishful thinking but he seems more. . . alert. His head always follows you when you approach him but now his milky eyes almost seem to be looking at your face instead of staring straight through you. He's strangely still on the chair, teeth gnawing on the ball gag but he doesn't try to get out of the restraints.

He doesn't screech when you gently caress the soft outer mushroom caps framing his cunt, instead his chest vibrates with more deep clicks. Nor does he start to wildly writhe on the chair when you slowly sink a finger into his cunt, finding it's already wet with slick. If anything he almost seems to chase(more like stumble) after the sensation, his hips doing small little movements to push your finger deeper into him.

Emboldened by childish hope you do something you hadn't before and reach with your other hand to slowly trace the long stalk of the clitshroom (not a term you coined), before rubbing the base of the cap like you would your own cock.

You nearly jump out of your skin when the gentle pressure of your fingers makes him buck into your hands and let out an ear-piercing screech that the gag has trouble muffling. You pull your hands away and that worsens the problem, the shrieking turning into literal chest rumbling snarls as Simon starts to struggle against the bindings.

Panic rushing down your system you put your hands were they were, gently stroking the 2 inch long mushroom growing from his clit. His hips buck up to chase after your hand, the snarls reverting back into shrieks, but as you stroke him longer they gradually die down to low pitched clicks and whistles. You're stumped; the clicks sound a lot like a cat's puff, his hole fluttering and clenching around your fingers as you slowly push them inside.

He's warmer now, not quite how he was before, but not cold as a corpse either. You know that you've gone completely mad by the fact he starts to gyrate his hips— grinding down just as you get knuckles deep so your fingers can brush against the sensitive spots inside him — makes your mind think that it's a bit of your Simon coming back.

You shake your head and pull your hands away, taking hold of his trembling thighs. You're greeted with another deep snarl but he quiets down immediately when you start to slowly push into him. He feels even tighter now, and you watch how his head falls back on the headrest, a long series of low clicks and whistles squirming past the gag.

His hips move to meet your slow thrusts, tight warm walls squeezing down every time you attempt to pull out just like he used to do. And that thought has your body increasing the pace automatically, your balls slapping against his ass, every sharp thrust hitting something spongy inside him and drawing out a sharp click, the rough pace leaving you panting.

Mindlessly you look up, too caught up in the moment remembering how Simon loved eye contact to remember the situation you're in.

He's looking straight at you.

You halt mid thrust, the low hiss he lets out falling on deaf ears as you tilt your head to the side. You're not insane, his eyes follow you. They're still milky, but they don't look through you. He's looking at you.

Another rough clicking sound leaves him and he thrusts his hips down against yours with enough strength to bruise, almost impatient. Despite how stupid it is you reach out and quickly unbuckle the gag with trembling fingers. "Si?" You say, unable to hide the hope in your voice. "Are you there?" You lean over him, looking hopefully into his eyes. "Do you remember me?"

His jaw moves like he's munching on a survivor, but all that leaves his mouth are more clicks and rough grunts.

Fuck. You are a fool.

A sob tears through your chest before you can stop it, ducking your head down to lay it on his chest. You're unable to keep the fresh tears from falling on him, watering the damned mushrooms that had taken him from you. You can't stop the sobs from coming, your back bowed and shoulders shaking as you cry just as much as the day you first lost him.

His chest vibrates with another long series of clicks and whistles, just pouring salt on the gaping would in your chest.

Your name rights through the room.

It's scratchy, rough, almost incomprehensible to your ears, but it's your name.

You look up so quickly you almost snap his neck. "Simon?" You whisper, staying in him even as you feel yourself soften. "Are you in there?" You slowly reach out to hold his face, careful not to cut your hands on the sharp mushroom caps along his cheeks.

He looks at you back, jaw moving still, but he doesn't try to bite the flesh of your palms despite your hands being right there. "Ckckck-" He clicks, pupils going from pinpricks to blown out, "Ckckrkck- Mo- ckck-ve." He manages, a thrust of his hips accompanying the order.

Your heart leaps to your throat and you can do nothing but follow it, sliding one hand down to dig your nails into his thigh, looming over him as you pull out until only the head is inside and them slam into him that there's an audible clap of skin on skin as you bottom out. A half shriek half click half "Yes!" escapes him as he throws his head back, slack jawed.

A whole range of noises escapes him as you hammer into him with all you've got, one hand remaining always on his face. You can feel him getting hotter the longer you pound into him, body shaking as each thrust nails his sensitive spot. He gets progressively tighter and tighter as you fuck into him, and you let go of his thigh to carefully strike along the long shaft of the clitshroom.

He shrieks at the top of his lungs and his cunt clenches down on you like a vice, fluttering around you and gripping your cock like it doesn't want you to pull out. It pulls you into an orgasm,

"Simon?" You whisper, staying in him even as you feel yourself soften. He's too silent compared to how vocal he had been a few moments ago. "Are you in there?"

His head rolls a bit, peering at you through through his lashes, tongue moving heavily in his mouth and lips twitching up into a soft of barely-there grin. "Cckck- l- ckckc- love- ckrk-you -ckkckrkckck-"

Taglist: @dead-end-stuff

[alpacaparkaseok]

3 years already? 😭 you make this a brighter place. Love you, love your writing, and I hope you’re doing so well 💜

It’s my three year Tumblr anniversary! I am so grateful to everyone who has joined me on this journey. I could include an endless amount of people who have made me smile, inspired me with their writing, brainstormed ideas with me, and have always been down to fangirl, but here’s just a few that I love so dearly and wouldn’t be here without:

@delacyrose224

@alpacaparkaseok

@milk-and-moni

@jiminshairline

@dulce-pjm

@park-jimin-isnt-real

Missing my besties and BTS extra today. Thanks for sticking around 💜

[wejustvibing]

Reporter: It has been a very fantastic race. You did everything possible, emotional. And, I don't know, I've been a fan of you I don't know if I have to say it but [if you look at my screen...] since 2007 and I've lived all this, your wins and losses with mercedes, losses of titles, I've cried with your losses...and, it has been a long ride and congratulations!

LH: Thank you so much for supporting me all this time. It's crazy to think, the time's just flown by so fast. Yea, I think... it was such a leap of faith when I decided to join this team and I remember the butterflies that I felt back then like it was yesterday. To then embark on the journey and have the success together, you know, we've had the highest of highs, you can't get any higher and the lowest along the way, but we've done it all together and we stuck together through it all as well. So that bond and that journey you take with people makes it really, really hard to let go... it's really, really hard to let go for sure. But, it's been incredible. I couldn't have hoped for more.

[jjangwonie]

DOUBLE LIFE

DOUBLE LIFE MASTERLIST

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ summary: With your anonymous Twitter account, you've acquired a pretty good following and popularity, throughout your school as well. Jake, your long-time crush, is one of them, head over heels. Yet when you once confessed to him, he had rejected your confession, saying that he already has his eye on someone else. What happens when he finds out that his online crush is the person that he rejected? And... How are you going to deal with this?

jjangwonie note: FINALLYYYY

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ word count: ~2k

THIRTY TWO - DEFEAT

warnings: angsty, a lot of arguing, poor Riki being a bit harsh :( (I am sorry bby ily), confrontation, crying, yelling, lmk if I missed anything!

"Heeseung-hyung, you better not throw this time," Jake warned playfully. "I saw those stats from yesterday." One by one, all the boys joined the call, ready to start their gaming session.

"Ey, I was testing something," Heeseung defended himself, followed by collective snickers from the others.

But there was an edge to Riki's gameplay today - aggressive pushes, risky peaks, dying early in rounds.

"Riki, what are you doing?" Jake questioned after another failed push. "You're rushing in all alone."

"Maybe if you entered faster instead of backseat gaming," Riki shot back, his tone sharper than usual.

Sunghoon let out a low whistle. "Someone's feisty today," He said, making the rest chuckle. "Probably hungry," Jay joked, trying to ease the tension. "Remember when-"

"Speaking of hungry," Sunghoon interrupted, groaning. "Y/n had ordered a whole feast of takeaway food earlier. Period cravings are no joke."

Jake chuckled. "Oh yeah, how is she? Is she hurting a lot?"

"I don't know, she seemed happy with her food," Sunghoon replied. "She did bring me a big box of chicken."

"Aw, that is so sweet of her man," Jake said fondly, fast typing on the mechanical keyboard in the background coming to a halt for just a second.

Something in Riki's character movement stilled for a moment. His jaw clenched, it was as if he could hear the growing smile on Jake's face through his words. It ticked him off.

"Yeah, so nice. She's a real angel, don't you think?" Riki muttered sarcastically, but it obviously got picked up by his mic.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake asked, confusion evident in his voice.

"Oh, nothing," Riki's character aggressively peaked another corner. "Just funny how you're acting all friendly with y/n lately."

"Uh guys, can we just play? I'm trying to rank up here." Heeseung's request was ignored.

The call went quiet except for the game sounds. Jake's character stopped moving.

"Okay. What is your problem lately?" Jake's voice had an edge to it now. "Ever since the match you've been-"

"My problem?" Riki interrupted. "y/n this, y/n that. So you got stood up by your online friend and you hop on to the next person like it's nothing? What, is it because she reminds you of her?"

"Guys?" Heeseung started.

"No, let him finish," Jake's voice was dangerously quiet. "What exactly are you trying to say?" But it stayed silent.

He scoffed. "Riki, I don't know what your problem is right now. I know she is your best friend but that doesn't give you some kind of claim on who she hangs out with-"

"No, but at least I am not the one crushing on her while still pining over her online account." Riki's voice beamed through the call.

The silence that followed was deafening. Heeseung's sharp intake of breath was audible. Sunghoon and Jay's confused "What?" overlapped each other.

"...What are you talking about?" Jake's voice sounded a little hesitant, more soft. As if he didn't want to get a grasp on what was being said right now.

"Don't act so dense, it doesn't take a genius to see that they're the same freaking person." Riki retorts back, agitation evident in his tone, all reason has flown out the window, too late for him to think about what he said.

Jake's character hasn't moved for a long time, nor had the other ones. "So you're saying she's..." The mutters are heard between Sunghoon and Jay's confusion. Between the words flying into each other about the game or the other, Jake's next words stop everyone from talking.

"I... I need to go," Jake's voice was strange, strained. The disconnect sound followed immediately.

"Riki-" Heeseung started, but another disconnect sound cut him off. Riki was gone too.

The remaining three sat in stunned silence, the game completely forgotten as "DEFEAT" flashed across their screens.

"Someone want to explain what the hell just happened?" Sunghoon's voice broke through the silence.

"Uh, the Twitter account Jake's been obsessing over for months?" Heeseung finally spoke, his voice uncharacteristically serious. Reluctantly, he continued. "That's, uh... It's y/n."

The Discord call had gone quiet, save for the sound of aggressive typing. Sunghoon's frustrated growl broke the silence.

"I can't find anything," he muttered, refreshing the page again. "I am not gonna even ask how you know. Heeseung hyung, show me."

Heeseung's hesitation was audible. "Listen, maybe we should-"

"Screen share. Now."

The gentle ping of Heeseung's stream starting filled the call. As he navigated to the profile, Sunghoon's expression grew increasingly tense. Photos of familiar places, glimpses of outfits he recognized, captions that were unmistakably his sister's voice - all accumulated over months without his knowledge. "I am going to talk to my sister. See you guys."

You've ignored the past knocks of Sunghoon, headphones blasting music as you lay on your side, rereading the texts of not long ago.

After you ignored your brother's following incoming texts now, Sunghoon stood outside your door again, his knuckles white against the doorframe. The sounds of sniffling from inside only strengthened his resolve. "Open the door," he repeated, firmer this time.

You swing off the blanket and stomp across the room. The door swung open abruptly. "What?" your voice came out sharp, but Sunghoon didn't miss how you instantly took a step back, arms wrapped around yourself in a self-soothing manner and your eyes were slightly red-rimmed.

"We need to talk about this account," Sunghoon started, stepping into your room with no hesitation. "Do you have any idea how dangerous-"

"I'm not a freaking child, Sunghoon," you cut him off, arms crossed tighter, like armour. But your voice wavered slightly, betraying the confidence you were trying to project.

"Clearly you are, if you think posting yourself online like this is okay-" He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, pacing the small space between your bed and desk.

"I never showed my face! I'm not stupid!" Your voice rose defensively, but there was a tremor in it now. You backed up until your legs hit the edge of the bed, throwing your head back in frustration.

"That's not the point!" Sunghoon's voice rose to match yours, worry manifesting as anger as he paced mindlessly. "Anyone could-"

You quickly stood up. "I can do whatever I want!" you shot back, hands clenched at your sides. Your whole body was tense, like a string pulled too tight. "I don't need your permission to-"

"You need to think about-"

"I know, okay?" The string snapped. Your voice cracked, words suddenly tumbling out like a dam breaking.

"I know it was stupid, and I know I messed up, and now Jake won't even-" your breathing became erratic, shoulders shaking and your hand flying through your hair. "He texted me saying he needs space and I just-" Your voice hitched, fresh tears spilling over.

That broken sigh broke Sunghoon's eyes from the wall, looking directly at you. You seem so lost, and his shoulders drop, as does his heart.

"I fucked everything up. Now, he probably hates me and-" The last words dissolved into a sob that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside you.

Sunghoon felt all his anger drain away at the sight of his little sister breaking down. Without hesitation, he crossed the room and guided you to sit on the bed. You didn't resist when he pulled you close, one arm around your shoulders. Your body shook with sobs that you tried to muffle in your sleeve.

The room fell quiet except for your soft crying, the angry words from moments ago hanging heavy in the air.

Sunghoon rubbed slow circles on your back, the way he used to when you were little and had nightmares. He felt you gradually lean into him more, and he was thinking about how this isn't just about you having some secret account.

No, this is his little sister actually being hurt about something. That something that involves his best friend having pined on her for months and not knowing about it, yes, and it involves feelings from his best friend towards his little sister and it is messy indeed. But right now, it's you, the focus is on you, and you're hurt.

He sushed you, his chin leaning on your head as he continued rubbing your back. That little secret account was nothing but a pebble compared to the boulder of seeing you hurt and vulnerable, crushing his heart.

Several minutes passed before Sunghoon spoke again, his voice gentle now, all traces of anger gone. "So... you actually like him?"

"...Yeah, maybe..." you mumbled into your sleeve, not meeting his eyes, your voice raw from crying.

"Maybe?" His tone was knowing, gentle in a way that made you look up with your lower lip trembling, and all you see is a concerned him with a knowing glint in his eyes.

You turned to bury your face in his shoulder, fingers clutching his shirt. "I do," you groaned out, the words muffled against his shoulder but clear. "I really do."

After your tearful confession, Sunghoon fell quiet for a moment, still holding you close as you sniffled into his shoulder. Then he let out a small laugh, making you pull back slightly to look at him in confusion.

"You know what's kind of funny?" he started, his voice thoughtful. "All those times Jake wouldn't shut up about this mysterious Twitter girl." You tensed slightly. "God, he was insufferable. Especially when you- well, when she- started responding to his messages."

You wiped at your eyes with your sleeve. "What do you mean?"

"I've never seen him like that before," Sunghoon shook his head, a hint of amusement in his voice. "He'd burst into class with this stupid grin, shoving his phone in our faces. 'Look what she said!' 'Guys, she's so funny!' 'Do you think she'd like this?'" He mimicked Jake's excited tone, earning a watery laugh from you. "Really?"

"Oh yeah. When you agreed to meet him at the festival..." Sunghoon trailed off, feeling you stiffen again, so he caressed your head while continuing.

"He was practically bouncing off the walls for days. Wouldn't stop talking about how he was finally going to meet his 'angel.'" He paused, glancing down at you. "Though I guess he kind of already had."

You pulled away slightly, hugging your knees to your chest. "That's different. He likes the Twitter girl, not... not me."

"But you are her, y/n," Sunghoon pointed out gently. "And from what I've seen lately..." He hesitated, wondering if he should share this.

"The way he looked at you when you two were hanging at the festival? Trust me, it's the same look he got whenever he talked about his Twitter girl."

"But now he knows, and he's upset, and-"

"He's probably just as confused as you are," Sunghoon interrupted. "I mean, finding out the girl you've been crushing on online is actually your best friend's little sister who you've also been getting closer to?" He nudged your shoulder.

"Give him some time to process. Jake's... well, he's Jake. Sometimes things take a while to click."

You let out a mix between a laugh and a sob. "When did you get so wise about relationships?"

"Hey, I'm your big brother. It's my job to be wise," he grinned, before his face grew more serious. "Even if I'm still not happy about this whole secret Twitter thing."

"I know," you mumbled. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"We'll talk about that later," he sighed, squeezing your arm before standing up. "Right now, I think the little monster needs ice cream more than you need a lecture."

"You can't call me that-" your protesting got cut off because of a pillow hitting your face. "It's been enough time, you shit. I checked."

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[confused-wanderer]

The entire superman family has at one point just picked up one of the batfam and flown them in the sky to force them to rest.

Bats were such active creatures. And each of the batfam never rested, never took breaks. It was like Gotham was constantly humming to them, constantly talking to them on where to go and who to help.

The city was always colourful, always too many sounds from different directions, explosions of light and crimes that kept each of them moving no matter how long it had been, no matter how injured they were.

It started when Kon was frustrated.

He’d noticed Tim hadn’t gotten any sleep for the past week or so, the other man contently focused on tracking down seventy three gang members all by himself. He was also working on a plan to frame three mafia families to land them behind bars, and solve twelve unsolved mysteries somehow related with the whole mess.

And he’s tried so hard to reason with Tim. To try and trick him into taking a nap. But he swore Tim could hear something in the city he couldn’t. Gotham and the bats communicated with sonar, he speculated because somehow Tim always had somewhere to go, somewhere to be.

So when he’s had enough, he just swooped up the other man, flying high enough that the sound of the city disappeared. It was bright and clamouring one second, silent and dark the next.

Tim’s tense, he’s probably yelling at Kon to put him down and smacking him with the pole but Kon couldn’t hear him over trying to figure out what to do next that wouldn’t earn him a kryptonite shaped hole in his chest.

But after a few minutes he shivers, curling closer to Kon as the winds whip past them. And in the silence of the night, as time slowly ticks by, he notices Tim’s grip on his shoulder slowly lessening, before it finally falls slack.

He waits for a bit, listening to Tim’s heartbeat until it finally steadies and slows, gently cradling the other man as he silently slips into the manor, and sets him down in bed. He does let the other bats know Tim’s asleep (they’re an overprotective bunch although very few would actually admit it)

And when he’s back with Superman, Clark grumbling about how he’s so close to just knocking Bruce out himself, Kon just gives him the same advice. Gotham’s sonar is silenced, everything else falling silent.

And it works.

Somehow, if you disconnect the bats from their city for more than five minutes each, every single one of them will succumb to sleep. It’s like all the noise and constant rush that’s been in their minds is flipped off and they’re left above their worries, nothing pressing to keep them moving so they drop fast asleep.

Supergirl jokes that they’re like actual bats in that way. You hang them up high when it’s time for them to rest. None of the batfam is amused.

[jccatstudios]

Hello! I just finished reading the Crows trilogy for the first time. I was looking up fanart and stumbled upon your comic. You are MADLY talented and I really admire you both for how good you are, and for deciding to start this project. Keep up the good work!!

Congrats!!! My first read of the series was definitely magical, so I’m glad you seem to have enjoyed your read too. I’m really excited to end this chapter and share the full chapter. Time has flown by so fast! Just one more update before the chapter is done. More exciting news to come! :)

Here’s a quick wylan in autumn doodle