#v comfort I love 💚💚💚💚

[rafesslxt]

Hi! Would you write a smut fic about getting high with Mattheo?

R U High Mine⎥Mattheo Riddle

summary: you come back from the holiday's with some weed for you and the boys. When you and Mattheo smoke while showing him some songs, it get's a little heated between the two of you.

warnings: Filthy smut yasss, getting high, so drugs/weed, smoking, best friends to lovers, making out, vocal mattheo (ugh), dirty talk, fingering, unprotected p in v, aftercare, mattheo calling reader slut and whore

note: I saw this in the car and had an immediate idea how to write this, had much fun. Thank you for the request I hope you like it. 💚

song: I recommend listening to the song "R U Mine" or "Why'd you only call me when you're high" by Arctic Monkeys, trust me babes. Or hear the playlist "Are you high mine" from my Spotify.

The boys and Pansy already waited for me in the common room as I arrived at Hogwarts again. It was like Christmas for them, knowing I would always bring them their favorite treat after the holiday's.

I smiled at them, knowing they were thinking the same as me as they smiled back at me. "Y/n!" Pansy was the first to stand up and hug me. From all the people I called my friends, I was closest to her. " Hey Pansy, how are you?" I asked, letting my bags fall to hug her back.

"I'm great! We're waiting for you girl. Everyone's here already." she giggled as she let go of me so I could great the rest.

I gave everyone a hug, at last Mattheo, who kissed my cheek. " How are you princess?" he asked, scanning my face. " I'm good Matt, thanks." I smile at him and sit beside him on the armrest. " What about you?" " Fine now that you're here." I rolled my eyes playfully at his answer.

"You know we're all happy to see you y/n, but do you have it?" Draco asked, shifting impatient in his seat. I think from all of us, he was the one with the most need for it. He was constantly on the edge, maybe even worse If it wasn't for Pansy who comforted him the best she could. He had all the pressure of his father on his shoulders and It was clear to see what it did to him. So a little smoke from now and then did good for him.

"Of course I have it, how could I forget when all of you reminded me the whole 2 weeks of it in each letter you wrote?" I say sarcastic, with a little smirk on the edge of my lips.

I grabbed my purse and pulled out a big black bag with already little packed baggy's, also black so you couldn't see what's in it, for each of them.

"Oh my god it's more than usually, right?" Enzo said, gawking at the little bags in my hand. I chuckled as I gave each one of them their own little bag so they could divide it up for the next few weeks.

"Yeah it is indeed more than usual. Got a good prize for it." " Wait let me pay what we didn't give you." Draco said, grabbing into his pockets but I shook my head. " No it's good. I'm friends with him since we were kids." He nodded and opened his bag to smell it, saying "You know I never thought I would say that but I wouldn‘t have thought I would ever be this happy to have a friend who is part of the muggle world."

I laughed at his comment, before giving the last bag to Mattheo. "I've got something else for you." I grinned at him, knowing he'll love it.

Obviously things like wifi don't exist here so I buyed him an MP3 player with lots and lots of battery's so he could listen to music. This time I brought an CD player and made a few Playlists for him.

His smile got bigger as he saw me pulling it out of my bag. "What's that?" Blaise asked, watching us. " It's an CD Player so you can hear Music a little louder than with headset."

"You wanna hear it?" I ask, Mattheo nodding. " Yeah princess, let's go." He grabbed my bags and gave me my purse. "See you later guy's." I waved at the rest of them.

It became a ritual for us to listen to music every time I came back from holiday's, so the group already knew what's going on.

We walked towards mine and Pansy's dorm we shared which was no issue to her as Mattheo and Draco shared a dorm so she would always go over to Draco's.

"You roll the weed and I'm gonna put on the music mkay? Grinder is in the top drawer." I say while walking towards my desk and putting the CD player on it, putting the battery in it and the first CD I wanted to show him. In the meantime he sat down on my bed and grinned the weed smaller before rolling it into a J.

"Ready." He smiled at me and tapped the place beside him on the bed. "Okay, so this is a band I want to show you, they're called "Arctic Monkeys" and I think you'll love them." Confident I sat down next to him after starting the Music. He lit the J and handed it over to me. "Here, you go first." "Thanks." I took the first drag and inhaled it deeply into my lungs before grinning and exhaling the smoke. " Oh it's good. Marc didn't disappoint." "Marc huh?" he asked as he took his first drag. " So you two are close or anything?"

I shrugged with my shoulders before laying down on my back. " Kind of, but not as close as I'm with you guys. I know him since I'm a kid, he's also the only one who knows about Hogwarts beside my parents."

He scanned my face as I was talking, slowly dragging his gaze from my eyes to my lips. I saw it but didn't think about it as I slowly but surely felt the weed have an effect.

"Damn, you were right. The music is great. It's a bit..edgy." " Yeah I know but it's great for smoking." I giggle and turn my head back towards the ceiling as the song "Why'd you only call me when you're high" started to play. " That's my second favorite." I tell him, feeling the weed calming me down but also making my senses and nerves more sensitive and reactive.

"What's your favorite?" "It comes after a few songs, just wait, I will tell you."

We layed down a little longer, smoking the J until it was ready and we were high as fuck. "Shit, it feels so good to be like this again." he groans, sending shivers down my spine. I turned my head towards him, seeing him looking at the ceiling.

I always had a crush on Mattheo. I loved when he was all flirty with me, while with nobody other. We both had partners before but I always felt some kind of pull towards him. My eyes scanned him, looking at his sharp jawline at first. I also loved looking at it, made me feel some type of way. Especially when it moved while he smoked.

Suddenly his eyes hit mine and maybe it's the weed but I had a feeling as If there was more in his gaze. Again, he looks at my eyes and then at my lips, licking his own.

Then my favorite song started playing. " That's my favorite." I said, watching him looking to the CD player. I wait a litte before he reacts to it. He breathed out heavily before looking at me. "You know where I would love to hear it?" "No tell me." "When we fuck." he says bluntly.

My eyes widened in shock, not knowing If I imagined things now. Before I could say anything he rolled over on top of me, grabbed my neck and kissed me with passion I've never felt before in my life. I opened my mouth as his tongue licked over my bottom lip. He groaned against my lips and pressed his body even more against mine, letting one hand beside my head to support himself and the other which was at my neck, now wandering over my stomach.

My breathing got faster and heavier due the haze and the arousal I suddenly felt. "Fuck, you don't even know how long I've been wanting to do this." He lowers his head down to my throat in a rush, leaving my lips trembling.

Goosebumps erupted over my skin as I felt his tongue licking my skin and his teeth carefully biting it. " Mattheo.." I moaned and let my hands go trough his hair, pulling on some strands. "What princess? What do you need hm?" he mumbles against my neck.

I arched my back and pressed my hips against his, feeling he's already hard. I gasped at the friction and bit my lip right after. " Need to feel you." "Where, tell me where. I wanna hear you say it." he groans, pressing against my hips.

"Everywhere. Fuck me." I would have never said that so bluntly without the weed, but I'm so grateful that we did smoke.

He growled against my skin, leaving wet kisses all over it before sitting up between my legs and letting both his hands roam over my skin under the hoodie I wore. It didn't take him long before pulling it over my head together with my shirt under it, seeing I was wearing no bra.

His lips parted and a smile formed on them. " You're so beautiful y/n, shit why didn't we do this sooner." His hand wandered up to my chest, massaging them and playing with my nipples teasing them. I mewled at the feeling and arched my back again. " Mattheo please. I need more."

"Don't have to ask me twice, princess." He opened the button of my jeans and pulled them down. He got rid of his clothes too until we were both only in our underwear.

I looked down and saw how big he was, just trough his boxershorts, making me gulp a little. "Don't worry, I'll go slow. Or do you want it rough?" I nodded quickly. " Rough. Fuck me like - " " Like what?" I gulped again before answering in a whisper. " Like a slut." " Oh you mean like my slut? Because after this you'll go nowhere but to me If you need to be fucked. Understood?" Ahh imagine him saying this ugh

I nodded. "Good girl." he said smiling, his voice and words making me even wetter. His fingers slowly stroked over my slip, making him biting his lip and almost moan. "Feel how wet you are you fucking slut? Wet for your best friend?"

I moaned and closed my eyes as he slipped a finger under the fabric and right inside of me. "Fuck, you're so tight. Nobody fucked you good the last few months huh?" I shook my head as I couldn't form any words. " Yeah that's gonna change from now on." He pumped his fingers a few more times inside of me, putting pressure to my clit with his thumb before pulling down his boxer shorts and my slip.

He pressed his tip against my entrance, looking at me. " Ready?" "Yeah.." I breathed out. He slowly pushed inside me, scanning my face, his eyes a little hooded.

My hands grabbed his hair again as he completely bottomed me out. "Oh yes.." I moaned, closing my eyes and parting my lips.

"You feel so good princess." he groaned and started to thrust inside me fast and rough, not thinking twice If someone outside in the common room could hear the bed hitting the wall. I wanted to say something but every word got stuck in my throat at his merciless fucking.

"What huh? Am I fucking you stupid you little whore? Fuck I love this, how fucked out you already look, not even able to speak." he growls into the air.

The only thing I felt was him inside me, thrusting faster and faster every minute that passed. I couldn't concentrate on anything else beside him. "M-mattheo I'm close.." " You wanna cum baby? Beg me like the little slut you wanted to be."

His thrusts became erratic and sloppy and I heard his breathing getting harder. "Fuck, please let me cum Mattheo. Please, I'm begging you." I moan loudly as my walls clench around his cock.

"Fuck fuck fuck.." he groaned, thrusting hard one last time before spilling inside me and circling his fingers on my sensitive clit. "Come around my cock baby." And I did. I did so hard that my vision went black for a moment and his name left my lips over and over again.

"Yeah, love how you almost look possessed. Possessed by my cock." he grins down at me, slowly pulling out of me.

I swallowed and looked at him, mind dizzy." "That was so good Mattheo." I said, trying to catch my breath.

"Oh believe me princess, that won't be the last time. You're mine now."

I hope you had fun reading, I had so much fun writing this. 😍

Let me know what ya'll think about this hehe. 👀

My Masterlist

xoxo Sarah <3

[endlessthxxghts]

Take It Easy

no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈10.2k

Summary: Your family throws an impromptu barbecue. You’re usually the one they throw every task on, but with today being your most painful period day, you say fuck it and leave them to fend for themselves. Only one other guest is invited today, and that’s Joel Miller.

Warnings: Age gap (23/43). Established relationship (to everyone but reader’s family). No physical description of reader besides outfit choices. Use of feminine pet names. LATINO JOEL MILLER (he’s canon in all my fics, sorry not sorry). Fluff with slight angst - getting caught, kinda (?) - happy ending, don’t worry. This version of Joel is always soft for reader, but I feel like he’s extra soft here. These idiots are so fucking in love (highkey jealous). SMUT 18+ MDNI: If you know the traffic light system for safe words, reader uses yellow at one point - but fluff & comfort happens immediately after. Dom/sub and Brat tamer/brat dynamics (subspace!). Daddy kink. Degradation kink (very brief). Making out/body appreciation. Masturbation (F). Oral sex (M receiving). Spit kink (I'm so weak). Exhibitionist kink - reader is being bold 🫣. Face fucking. Vaginal fingering. Lots of kissing (these two definitely have some sort of oral/kiss fixation istg). Soft unprotected p in v. Reader gets a surge of dominance, soooo ya get a glimpse of sub!Joel😏…...I think that's it. Let me know if there’s anything I missed. 🫶🏼

Author's Note: This can be read as a stand-alone, but I accidentally connected this a bit more than I intended to the What You Need fic. That fic talks a lot about reader's background/family dynamic and why/how Joel is the way that he is with reader. There's also some little details in here that might fly over your head if you haven't read What You Need. However, I genuinely don't think any confusion or such will occur if you only read this one shot. I hope you'll be able to enjoy all the same. Much love 💚

MASTERLIST || ONESHOT COLLECTION

“Can you prep the veggies?”

“Can you prep the grill?”

“Can you make the rice?”

“Why don’t I make the entire fucking dinner at this point?” You snap in the direction of the kitchen from your place on the couch, wrapped in blankets, snuggled with a heat pack over your lower belly. 

“Well, if you’re offering,” your brother smirks. 

You started your period yesterday, and the second day is always the absolute worst. Your flow is heavy, your cramps are excruciating, and your mood is all over the place. Today was not the day for an impromptu barbecue, regardless if there were guests or not. 

You promptly give your brother the middle finger then pull yourself off the couch to make your way to the bathroom. You’ve filled up an entire pad, yet again, in less than 20 minutes. 

You always do everything for your family, but today, you absolutely don’t give a fuck. Today is self care day for you — popping three painkillers then heading straight to the dark of your room. 

You’re not entirely sure how long you fell asleep for, but the smell of charcoal smoke and sizzling steak is what wakes you up first. The next sensation that fills you is the sound of heavy boots walking from, what you assume to be, the back door to the kitchen. Joel. You’d know that walk anywhere. He’s taking on the tasks for your family that usually fall on your shoulders. 

He called you this morning before everyone (including you) woke up, saying he’s excited to see you tonight. You grumbled sleepily, about to tell him you were just as excited when a searing pain ruptured in your stomach, causing you to gasp out in pain. 

“Baby?” Joel called out, “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Fuck, sorry, baby, it’s nothing,” you shyly say. He says your name. You start to explain, “I started my period yesterday, and-” but Joel cuts you off. “The second day is always the worst,” he states factually. 

You smile to yourself, “Yeah, exactly.”

He tells you to get up and get a glass of water and some medicine to ease the pain, which you do, then he tells you to let yourself sleep in today, which you don’t. 

“Fine,” he relents at your stubbornness, “but at least take it easy today, darlin’, ya hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Miller, loud and clear,” you tell him. 

You can feel his dumb fucking lopsided smirk through the phone, “Fuckin’ brat,” he snarls. 

“Mhm, but you’re fuckin’ brat,” you correct him.

“Yes. Mine.”

“Mmmm,” you let out a soft moan at that. Mine. You love the way it sounds, the way he claims you. “I love you.”

His cock twitches at the sound you make, but he wills it stay down. He takes a breath before he responds, “I love you, baby.” He can’t get ahead of himself today. He needs you to take it easy. So he tells you exactly that, again, for the last time before he ends the call and lets you take on your tasks for the day. 

Even though the mouth-watering scent of all the delicious food has completely pulled you awake, you stay in bed a little longer, basking in the sensation of absolute no cramping in the position you’re in. And as if on cue, Joel quietly knocks on your door, waiting for you to invite him in. 

“Come in,” your voice cracks, still groggy from the hours of no speaking. 

He enters softly, clad in that denim button up you love so much paired with some dark washed jeans. “Hi, darlin’,” he makes his way to place a soft kiss to your forehead, your nose, then a longer one to your lips. “How you feelin’?” 

“Better now,” you coo, completely enamored by how soft your big, burly man can be. “Food smells good. You helped them?” 

He’s sitting at the side of your bed now, facing you, so he can rest his arm across you. “Only your old man. Carried in the food as he finished puttin’ em in the trays,” he says as he draws little circles on your arms. 

You hum in response, too content at his presence. Still unable to use your voice, you tug on his arm, silently asking for him to hold you for just a moment before you eventually need to get up. 

“They all left, by the way,” Joel soothes. 

You finally have the strength to lift your head up, a quizzical look on your face. 

“Your brother needed an herb, your dad s’more charcoal, obviously your mother drove ‘em. I don’t know where your other siblings are, though,” he explains. 

“Oh.” You look up at him. “So what you’re saying is,” tugging harder on his arm to pull him into your bed, “you can freely cuddle me until then.” 

He chuckles at that, giving into your pull, and wrapping his hand around your jaw to pull you into yet another sweet kiss. He’s laying down next to you now, and you take the opportunity to completely entangle your limbs into his, your head tucked into his neck. 

Your family is gone for another forty-five minutes from that point on, and you two spend each minute just completely wrapped into each other, sharing sweet, wet kisses everywhere both of  you can reach. His thigh supplying light pressure between yours at your core, spurring you both on just enough but not to the point where you lose all self control. 

There’s something about the way you two can touch each other like this. With past partners, they always wanted things to escalate. To undress you and devour you at any sign of affection. But with Joel, it’s natural. Of course, his body will react in ways that show he physically wants more, but truly, he just wants to adore you and appreciate you and love you. And in the moments where those three words aren’t enough, he shows it in the other pure way he knows how to. 

You’re too distracted being consumed by Joel’s touch, but as sharp as an eagle, he immediately perks at the sound of your family’s arrival. He slowly pulls away, trying to savor the kiss as much as possible. Finally it breaks, and you immediately pull your bottom lip into your mouth, trying to savor the way he feels and the way he tastes. He gives you a look of pure love and devotion—a look you know is only reserved for you, a look you’ll never get tired of. “Time to get up, darlin’.” 

“Ugh,” you whine out, “Okay, I’ll meet you out there. I’m just gonna change, baby.” 

He pulls you up out of bed and straight into another chaste kiss, “Want me to make you tea?” 

“That sounds lovely, baby,” you blush at his attentiveness. You’ve been spoiled rotten by him for the past year, but you still get so flustered every time. “But I think we’re out of what I normally drink-”

He stops you with yet another kiss. “I bought a box of that peppermint blend before I came.” 

You can’t stop the way you absolutely fold for this man, evident in the shaky breath you take and the way you completely stumble on your words, “Y-yeah, o-okay, yes, please.” 

He smiles and nods, walking directly to your kitchen without another second to waste. 

God, he deserves some fucking head right now, you think to yourself as you quietly giggle. 

You make your way to your bathroom, taking a quick body shower because those several hours of sleep, plus the way Joel was on you for 45 minutes, had you looking like a murder scene down there. You dry yourself off, lotion up, and change into some loose black sweats and a fitted, light blue baby tee. 

You look a lot brighter after your rest; Joel was right in telling you to sleep in, you needed it. Not that you’d ever tell him. He doesn’t need anymore ego boosts. Ya see, what’d I say, darlin’? you can hear his Texan twang scolding you already. 

He looks up from the kettle pot boiling before him to see you perched on the bar stool on the other side of the kitchen island, bright eyed and awake, watching him make your tea. “Thank you again, baby,” you softly say. 

He comes around behind you, setting your mug in front of you accompanied with three soft kisses peppered to the area where your shoulder and neck meet. “Of course, my sweet girl. You ready to eat? Everythin’ is set up out back, and everyone is out there, too,” he sighs, “already eatin’.” He says, annoyed at the fact that no one thought to call and check in on you, let you know that the ritual of eating together already started. You’re used to it by now, but seeing his reaction reminds you that it’s not normal for your own family to treat you this way. You smile a little sadly, trying to think of how you want to go about this. Usually you just wouldn’t eat, but with Joel around, you know that’s not going to fly. 

“How ‘bout,” he says as he wraps his arms around your waist, his head still resting on your shoulder, “I go out there, make a plate big enough for us both, and I come back in and we share?” He could easily get you your own plate, but he knows your family. They’ll jump at any opportunity to shit talk you when they don’t understand the entire situation. Getting you your own plate and serving you when he’s a guest in your own home could inspire that, and he really doesn’t want you to experience that right now. 

You lean into him, turning your head a little to place a kiss to his cheek. “Okay, baby,” you smile, “yes, let’s share.” 

He comes back inside to you snuggled on the couch again with a pullout table propped right in front. He snuggles up right beside you, placing your legs right on top of his, keeping you secure with a hand on your thigh. 

The plate is filled with a mountain worth of food. You already know three-quarters of that is going down his bottomless pit of a stomach, laughing to yourself at the thought. One thing that wasn’t on the original menu for tonight was on his plate. It also just so happened to be one of your comfort foods whenever you weren’t feeling good. “W-who made the mashed potatoes?” 

Joel looks up at you sheepishly. He thought he’d be able to pull it off. He didn’t just go to the store, before he came, for your mint tea. He also went to get the ingredients for the mashed potatoes recipe you love so much. Within the almost two years he’s spent getting to know you, he’s recognized that every single time you’re feeling under the weather or falling into some type of depressive slump, you’re either eating or craving it. “I, uh- When I went to go get your tea… I figured I’d get ya your stuff for this, too. Made it before I came to wake ya up.” 

“Joel…” your voice cracks and your eyes tear up. 

How is it that after 23 years of life, you’re finally experiencing what it means when someone loves you? And you’re not talking romantic, you’re talking pure, genuine love. Love that you should’ve received from your parents, your siblings. They have never once shown you the consideration of making you your favorite meal, or fixing you a cup of something warm when you’re not feeling well. They have never shown you what it means to appreciate someone, in any of the love languages. The only person that has shown you remotely anything is your mother, but even that is limited because she cowers behind the directives of your father. You see her try, and you feel selfish not to appreciate it. But is it selfish to just want to be wholly loved by the people who created and raised you?  

You pull the fork out of his hands and set it back on the plate. And in an instant, you completely throw yourself on him, your arms wrapped around his neck tightly, legs tightly hugged between his own. He loses his balance and lays straight back onto the couch, letting out a grunt at the landing, with you on top of him. You push into him for a kiss, your noses smooshing together as you lick inside his mouth with a sense of urgency to show him how much you love him. Once the initial shock of you pouncing on him wears off, he immediately wraps himself around you, tightening his hold to pull you in impossibly more. His tongue dances with yours, one arm wrapped around your middle and another secure around the bottom of your ass. 

You adjust to straddle his hips, sitting up and pulling him up with you by the collar of his denim. You break away from him just for a minute, heavy breathing and eyes dark, and you let your hand glide down his chest, swiftly undoing a few buttons of his shirt, making sure to leave a trail of sloppy, wet kisses as you go. You make your way down to his belt, unbuckling it with such a need that he can’t help but just watch you. You slip the belt out of the loops, letting it fall to the ground, and you’re scooting back more to situate yourself in between the tight space of his legs. You palm him through his jeans, feeling how absolutely hard he is, which elicits a deep groan from the man above you. With that, the button and zipper of his jeans are undone. You bring your hands up back to the hem of his jeans, looking back up at him for his approval. 

“Sweet girl, ya know your folks are right outside,” he tries to warn but fails with the way his voice wavers with need. 

You look to the back door that’s twenty feet away, curtains completely drawn, and look back at him. “You and I both know none of them are coming back inside for a while,” you raise your eyebrows in defiance. 

He is truly at war with himself right now. He could let you do what you want, knowing you get off just as much as he does when you give him head. Or he could situate you back to your original positions and finger a few orgasms out of you, and he just pulls away from you if someone were to walk in — the safer route. Or. The safest option being he bids your folks goodnight and you let them know you’re going out for the night. 

Though, the latter would just be too easy. He knows you both revel in the risk, in the act of sneaking around. Which is why he finds himself scooting forward to the edge of the couch, and you take the hint loud and clear. He wants you on your knees for this. He meets your stare once more, both of you sparkling with mischief. “Well? Darlin’? Best get on with it then, huh?” Followed by him lifting his hips slightly so you can tug his clothing down, his tip red and aching. 

“Fuck, yes,” you gasp out, “been thinking about this since you left my fuckin’ room, daddy, I want you so bad.” 

Your admission spurs him on more, and his eyes go impossibly dark. “Go on, darlin’. Prove it to me. Show me how fuckin’ bad.” 

You pull yourself up to stand on your knees for a moment, and murmur a quiet come here to him, urging him to lean in for a second. He pulls closer, stopping an inch away from your face. You open your mouth for him, tongue sticking out and flat. He gets the hint, and before you can even register, his hand is on your jaw, tilting your head back and opening you wider, and he spits. 

You use all your self control not to swallow it right here and right now, desperate to feel any kind of warmth from him slide down your throat. You have other plans right now. You close your mouth and let your own spit generate, absolutely giddy with want to please your man. His eyes are fixed on you, knowing your next plan of action, but still stunned all the same at how fucking filthy his sweet girl is. You pull yourself back, hovering your mouth over his erection. 

You open your mouth and just let the combination of both of you fall from your mouth, sliding down his cock like the sweetest of syrups that you can’t wait to lick up. As the amount of spit starts to really gather, you grab him by the base and start stroking up and down his length, putting extra emphasis on his tip, running your finger over his slit for good measure. He lets out a stuttered groan at that, and you take that as your queue to finally put him in your mouth. Running your tongue in the same pattern your fingers did his tip, making him hiss in your ability to make him fold at the smallest of touches.

You keep this pace for a good while, using your hand in tandem with your mouth, stroking up and down in the speed and pressure that you know brings him to the edge fast. The sounds coming from your throat mixed with the slick feeling of your hand pumping him has your pussy absolutely dripping for attention. Fuck it. You slide your other hand down into your underwear, and begin to play with your clit, not wanting to go any deeper for fear of getting blood all over the place. Joel wouldn’t mind—of course, he wouldn’t—but you would, so you give yourself just enough to ease the aching need between your legs. Your moans get louder now that you’re touching yourself, your throat adding a delicious vibrating sensation to him. 

His eyes were shut at how fucking amazing you’re taking him, but with the sounds you’re making, he can’t help but make sure all his focus is on you. And god damn, when he sees you touching yourself so prettily while you’re being such a good girl making daddy feel so fucking good, he can’t help but cum at the sight. “F-fuck, sweet girl, holy fuckin’ hell,” he breathes, “It turn you on that bad to have my dick in your mouth, huh?” 

You pull off of him with a pop, making sure you keep as much of his cum in your mouth as you can—because there’s a fuck ton—and you fix your stare into his dark eyes as you swallow every last bit of him. “So fucking good, daddy, I-” you break off into a moan, your hand that was pumping him now gripping his thigh to maintain your balance as you continue the ministrations on your pussy. 

“Cum for me, baby, show me how good it makes you feel to be daddy’s little slut,” he demands. You gasp out at his words, that demand being what really throws you over the edge. Your clit pulses underneath your fingers, you feel yourself gush out, your blood and cum making you feel impossibly messier, and with that, your body goes rigid. 

Joel leans forward and grabs onto your jaw, keeping you upright while you come back down from your high. You’re so far gone that you don’t realize he’s peppering your face with kisses, uttering sweet nothings until you’re back with him. He gently pulls your hand from your pants and settles them into your lap.

“I’ve got ya, baby,” he kisses your lips softly. 

“My sweet girl,” he kisses your jaw, “I love you,” another kiss at your pulse point below your ear. He feels your body begin to relax. 

“Atta girl, baby,” he whispers before reaching down and settling his other arm underneath your legs, positioning himself so he can pick you up in a cradle position. He stands and carries you to your bathroom, settling you on your feet for one moment so he can pull your sweats and underwear off of you. He guides you down onto the toilet, kissing your forehead and muttering a quick one sec, baby before he steps out. He comes back two minutes later, and you’re still in subspace but slightly more grounded, and he kneels down in front of you, instructing you to lift one foot at a time. 

He went to go get you a new pair of underwear and some gray sweatpants. He already stuck another pad to your underwear, too. The action fills you with such an overwhelming feeling that you can’t help the tears that roll down your flushed cheeks. He looks up, knowing everything you’re saying and feeling by your gaze alone. He cups your cheeks with both hands, rubs his thumb to wipe the stray tears, and kisses your forehead, your left eye, then your right, your nose, and finally your lips, all in an attempt to seal every ounce of love and adoration he has for you.  

“I love you,” you finally say, leaning your forehead against his, and just take a moment with his hands on you. He pulls back again with a kiss to your forehead, and he grabs the wipes on the counter, encouraging you to lean back a bit, so he can clean you properly. 

“Wait, no,” you meekly say, trying to grab the wipes from his hands. He knows you get embarrassed at the fact that he sees you a little gross like this, and you know he truly doesn’t care. Usually he relents and lets you do it yourself, but tonight, he’s doing everything for you whether you like it or not. He raises one eyebrow at you, and that’s all you need to bring your arms back down in defeat. You lean yourself back a little, spreading your legs open, and let him clean you up. 

When it comes to other activities during your period, you usually are uncomfortable. But with Joel? With him, you don’t mind. You actually love it. It’s in moments like these that remind you how irrevocably in love you are with this man.

Afterwards he stands you up, pulls your bottoms on, and turns you towards the sink and washes your hands for you. He really wasn’t kidding at how easy he wanted you to take today.

He carried you back to the couch and wrapped a fluffy blanket around you. You threw yourself on him in the middle of your guys’ meal, so after he settles you into the couch, he transfers your shared food to a real plate instead of paper and warms everything up. He does the same to your peppermint tea. 

After everything is warmed, he settles back onto the couch beside you, pulling your legs up onto his thighs and holding you above your knee to secure your position. You go to reach the fork, but Joel is quick to swat your hand away, taking the fork and feeding you a bite of your mashed potatoes instead. 

“I told you,” he scolds, “to take it easy today.” 

You frown, “And I have been! You’ve literally been taking care of me since you got here.” 

He sets the fork down, reaching for your tea and lifting it up to your mouth. He’s not gonna respond until you take a sip, which was much needed as your belly immediately calms at the heat. You take one more sip as he begins, “You pouncin’ on my fuckin’ dick was not takin’ it easy.” 

You cough on the fucking liquid still traveling down your throat. You were not expecting that to come out of his mouth. You try really hard to will yourself not to fucking burst out in laughter because you know how serious he was with this statement. So instead, you settle for your typical smart ass remark. “It wasn’t?” You asked. “Seemed real easy to me,” you add as you take the fork from his hand and take another bite of the yummy food before you. His eyebrow shoots up and you give him a lopsided smirk in return. 

“Watch it, sweet girl,” he says as he brings his hand up, thumb and forefinger pinching at your chin to force your eyes into his. He gives you a bruising kiss, one that entices him to bite at your bottom lip as he pulls away. You can feel yourself slipping again. He’s not done with you, he’s just giving you a moment to refuel. 

“I’ll be good,” you softly whimper as you chase for his lips. “I’m not so sure about that,” he responds as his grip on your chin gets tighter, forcing you stationary and a few inches too far from where you want him to be. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes gloss over as you whisper out a small I promise, to which he says, “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll make sure of it.” 

He lets go of your face completely and continues feeding you, alternating between the food and your tea. As the next bite he prepares for you reaches your mouth, something that has never happened before decided to occur. Your mother comes inside the house, and her first sight as soon as she came in was you, completely wrapped around Joel, and him feeding you. 

Your jaw freezes, his grip on your leg tightens out of instinct to protect you, and it’s a staring standoff between the three of you. Joel doesn’t realize he’s still holding the fork up until his hand starts to shake, so he gently sets it down on the plate. It’s you who speaks first. “Mom, I-”

But it’s your mother who wants the first word. The first two words, actually. “How long?” 

Your heart is beating out of your chest, and the only thing keeping you from full blown panic is all the ways you’re in physical contact with Joel. “I can explain, mom, I-”

“Flower,” she says to comfort you. She’s not mad? you think. Your heart immediately calms, but now you’re just confused. Growing up, your mother always called you her flower. She used it predominantly when she wanted to help you regulate. You’ve always been full of anxiety and other strong emotions. Flowers are strong and beautiful, and show exactly when they need support. And when they are given the support they need, they flourish. That’s you. You are a flower. Her flower. But now she can see, there’s someone else tending to you. And she is not mad. 

“A year and some change,” you softly say. She looks between you two. Then she steps forward. “Look,” she breathes. “I know our family hasn’t been the best in showing love or appreciation. And they obviously haven’t been the best at fending for themselves-”

“Amen to that,” you say, and she chuckles in appreciation. She continues.

“Thank you, by the way. For everything you do around here. We both know none of it would get done around here if it weren’t for you. I try to help you as much as I can, but obviously not enough. If you can pull everyone’s weight around here, which you shouldn’t have been doing in the first place, then I can at least pull my own and whip them into pulling their own, too.” 

Your eyes are watering, and you take a deep, shaky breath. Joel feels it. He brings his hand around to rub small circles into your back. You’re so grateful he’s here. “I love you,” you say to your mom. 

“I love you, too, flower, but I’m not done. I also know that I’m not too great at using my voice. Defending what’s right. But you’re the one person in this family that’s given me the inspiration to fight for what I believe in. You give me strength, and constantly seeing this family pull you down lower and lower as the years go by breaks me. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.” 

Tears begin to fall, both on your face and your mom’s. 

“And in this last year, and some change, to be exact,” she smiles as she recalls your answer from earlier, “you have been the most vibrant flower of the entire garden. In the gloominess of this house, you continue to grow, and I’ve been dying to understand what changed. And now I see why. And I have never been more grateful for another human—the first one being you—until he entered your life.” 

You and Joel both look at each other, his eyes have a hint of gloss to them now, too. 

“So,” your mother says as she reaches for the tissue box on the counter and walks back to hand you the box. “I won’t tell a soul. It’s not my story to share. And remember. I will always have your back. Always. I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel comfortable enough to tell me about such a beautiful relationship, but we’re here now and I need you to know that I will forever support what makes my flower happy,” she looks to Joel, “and that’s you. I will support both of you until my flower decides on something different.” 

Joel’s face turns into a scowl, half joking and half pissed at the thought of you leaving him. “Which, I have a feeling isn’t gonna happen, so you can calm yourself, Mr. Grumpy Pants,” your mother adds after seeing his boyish reaction that would normally scare anyone but you, and apparently your mother. 

You lose your shit at his new nickname, and all the emotions just flow out at once. You pull yourself off of Joel and run into your mothers arms, needing her comfort. She holds you like that for a few seconds before she says, “Okay, go, I think Mr. Grump needs your comfort now. Absolutely no way I’m doing it.” You laugh and squeeze her one last time before she grabs something in the kitchen and heads back outside. You make your way back to Mr. Grump, straddling his lap. Before she opens the back door, though, she calls out your name. 

“Yes, mom?” 

“I’ll cover for you, hon,” she says nonchalantly as she goes back outside. 

You and Joel stare at each other for a moment, too shocked to take action on the opportunity that just presented itself to you. Then, it finally hits. You pull him into a kiss that’s downright feral, your hips grinding down on him on instinct. “Take-” you say as you try to break away from the kiss, but you’re too drunk on him to completely pull away, “t-take me home, baby.” 

He grunts in response, and stands up with you completely wrapped around him. He heads for your front door. 

“Baby, Baby, wait, not here,” you say breathily as you go back in for another quick kiss, “through the garage.” He looks confused for a second before he remembers. The front door camera. The left side of your driveway being the camera’s blind spot. Immediately he reroutes.

You would think the first thing he does is bring you to his bedroom, but no. He sets you on his couch, molding your body into his signature position for you that makes you sit on your heels, palms up on your thighs. He could’ve easily told you he wanted you in position, but again, he told you to take it easy. 

Although the position almost always forces you into subspace, you’re confused and coherent enough to question him, “Baby..?” 

He steps back, looking down at you with his eyebrow raised, “Don’tcha remember, sweet thing?” 

“You pouncin’ on my fuckin’ dick was not takin’ it easy”, he said. 

You promised you would be good. 

To which he assured you, “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll make sure of it.”

He sees the moment it clicks in your head, and immediately his hold is on your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He leans down, his lips ghosting over yours. He whispers, “Color?” Still demanding but with a hint of softness to it. You tilt your head further back, trying to make your lips touch him more, “Green,” you say. 

He pulls your chin into him and kisses you, slow and sweet, his tongue tangling with yours. He pulls away, breath slightly shaky, but he composes himself quickly and stands straight up, letting go of any contact with you. 

His couch is either really low to the ground, or he is just one big motherfucker. Either way, you sitting on your haunches on his couch like this while he stands straight up in front of you makes your head in direct eye line of his crotch. And you can’t seem to pull your eyes away from it. You see his tent forming, and you’re smart enough to realize what lesson he’s about to give you. 

“Told you to take it fuckin’ easy today,” he says as he slowly unbuckles his belt, “didn’t I, baby?” 

“Yes, daddy,” you say quickly, not wanting to piss him off more. 

“But ya didn’t,” his belt falls. “Did you?” 

Your spit thickens. “No, daddy.” 

His belt is on the floor, and he’s reaching to undo his button and zipper. “My good girl was jus’ too fuckin’ eager to have my dick in her mouth, hm?” 

You lick your bottom lip, catching the drool you didn’t realize was pooling out of your mouth. Like Pavlov’s fucking dogs, he’s got you trained. You let out a whiny mhm in response, already completely blissed out at the prospect of what’s about to happen. He settles for it, this time. 

He pulls his jeans down, just enough to pull himself free. He leaves his boxers up for now while he explains. He walks closer to you, his hardness one lick away from you, and forces you to look up at him again. “You’re gonna take my cock in your mouth again, sweetheart,” he says. 

You eagerly cut him off, “Yes, please, thank you, daddy, I-”

He shuts you up by pushing his thumb in your mouth. “But you’re not gonna move or do anythin’, besides sit prettily for daddy,” his grip on your jaw tightens, “ya understand me?” He slides his thumb out and spreads your spit across your bottom lip and down your chin. 

“I understand, daddy,” you say, your eyes completely glossed over. Out of instinct, you fold your hands behind your back, signaling to Joel your complete submission to him. 

“Such a good girl when you remember how to be patient,” he says as he stands back to his full height again. He gets impossibly closer, crowding your face. He pulls his boxers down, and his erection springs free, the tip landing against your lips, smearing the pre-cum across it. It takes everything in you not to lick it up—you can’t, he needs to give you your next instructions. He hears your silent pleas, and as he settles his hand at the back of your head, fingers grounding themselves into the roots of your hair, he tells you, “Open.” 

Knowing how rough Joel can get, you take a deep breath, relaxing your throat, and you open wide, your tongue laid flat out, slick with the drool that’s been forming since the noise of the belt buckle hit your ears. 

His other hand is holding himself at the base, guiding himself into your mouth. He taps his tip on your tongue a few times for good measure, before pushing himself all the way in. You feel your gag reflex coming, but you take another deep breath through your nose, urging your throat to relax a little more. It does. He pushes slowly in until your nose is flush with the patch of hair above his length. All you wanna do is unclasp your hands and reach for his thighs to pull him into you tighter, wanting to engulf his scent into you, but you can’t. All you can do is take what he gives you while sitting pretty like the good girl you are. 

He starts to pull back a little, and that naturally makes your throat contract, forcing a groan out of him and more saliva out of you. He lets go of himself, and now both hands are on you. He taps your cheek, asking you to look up at him. “Hands behind the entire time. Any touch on my thigh signals red to me, okay?” 

You nod your head as best you can with his grip on you and let out a little moan for good measure. At your signal, he completely and utterly wrecks you with no hesitation. And you take it exactly as he gives it, just like you promised you would. 

The more he thrusts, the more spit that builds, leaking from your mouth and down your chin. Your eyes are shut at the feeling of him abusing your throat, but he won’t have that. You feel his other hand not tap your cheek twice. Your eyes fly open and land on his dark ones. “Those eyes stay on me,” he grunts out at a particularly rough thrust. You whimper out at his words, trying to convey your apologies for doing something that could make him mad. “No, it’s alright, darlin’,” he says, his pace never faltering. “I- fuck- wasn’t specific enough,” he grunts, “but ya know what I expect now,” his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek. “Isn’t that right, pretty girl?”

Your eyebrows furrow and try to emphasize with your eyes that yes, eyes on you, daddy. He understands. “Atta girl, baby,” he breathes out, pulling out momentarily to give you a breath. 

You choke out a little as he pulls out. He softens, concern laced in his voice, “You okay, amor?”

“Yes,” you say weakly, “I promise, please. W-want more..” You open your mouth wide again, tongue positioned perfectly for him to slide back in. 

His eyes fall dark again and there’s that signature lopsided smirk. He guides himself back into you, completely, and his hand from your cheek glides down to wrap around your throat. “Shit, amor, you feel that?” He squeezes at the base of your throat. “I’m all the way fuckin’ in there, baby,” he says, falling back into a rough pace, feeling the outline of his dick glide in and out of your pathway. “You’re takin’ me so-” he lets out a pained grunt. He’s close. “-so fuckin’ good, shit, baby.”

Your throat constricts again, and that feeling is what sends him over. For the second time today, all of your senses are being consumed by everything Joel: his taste, his smell, his touch, the downright sinful sounds that grace your ears, and you take it all in, eagerly. Both hands release their hold on you as he pulls out of your mouth, and you’re quick to lean into his hips. His hand shoots back to the nape of your neck, pulling you back like a mother does to her puppy.

“You’re fuckin’ insatiable, you know that?” he says, out of breath, still trying to compose himself from the soul-sucking he just took from you. You give him a blissed out giggle, “You jus’ taste so yummy, daddy.”

“Yeah?” he asks, amused. “Well, so do you, babygirl, so it’s my turn now.”

Immediately your ears perk up and your body goes rigid. The thought of him giving you head with the flow you have right now doesn’t sit right with you. “Yellow,” you shakily whisper.

He lets go of the back of your neck and falls to his knees to match your eye level. “Oh, honey,” he cups your face, “Please tell me how to make it better. Do you wanna stop here, mi amor?”

Your body relaxes at his instant reaction. You’ve only ever had to use a safe-word with Joel twice. Today, included. And in each rare moment, he does what every caring partner and proper Dominant should: validate, comfort, and communicate. He has never given you any reason to be scared or feel disrespected. This is Joel we’re talking about here. You’re safe in his presence, always. The thought puts you at ease, but it also makes you feel a little ridiculous at using a safe word for something that could easily be communicated without it. 

“Wait, I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you or anything, it’s something so tiny and stupid, I should’ve just communicated instead of going straight to the code-” you quickly start panicking as you ramble on, but he’s quicker. He pulls you off the couch and into his lap, holding you in a tight embrace, knowing the pressure is what helps pull you away from your panic attack. He’s muttering it’s okay, you’re okay and I’ve got ya, as he kisses the top of your head. As soon as he feels your body relax in his arms, he speaks. “Darlin’ girl, please look at me.” You do, teary-eyed.

“I completely forgot you were on your period. I was too in the moment, and I had a lapse in judgment in my words. I’m sorry. You should not be the one to apologize, ever, if you’re ever in an uncomfortable situation like this. The safe words are there for a reason, okay? Use them. They are there to keep you safe, always. Thank you for speakin’ up, my love.”

You nod your head at his words, too emotion-filled to respond with anything else right now. The only thing you can offer is a whisper of a “Thank you, I love you,” but that’s enough for him. 

He gives you a soft kiss to your lips. “How would you like to continue, beautiful girl?”

You think for a moment, and the way that his hand feels wrapped around you starts to make your arousal build again. All you can think of are his big, calloused hands all over you. In your mouth. On your thighs. In your warmth. Screw the bloody mess, he doesn’t care. You squirm at the thought, and he feels you falling back into your space again. His cock stirs beneath you. He tightens his grip on you to coax you out of your thoughts. “Fingers,” you squeak out, your cheeks flushing red instantaneously. He grins, but his eyes stay fixed on you, hinting at you for something more. Then, it clicks. “P-please, daddy, need your fingers in me,” you say, voice trembling with need. 

“I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he says as he pulls your thighs around him and brings himself to full height. He leads you to his bed, setting you down on the edge with a kiss to your forehead and a quick one moment, sweetheart. 

He leaves to return back with a large bath towel and lays it across the center of his bed, dark blue to match his sheets. He situates pillows for your head and leaves a smaller one out, just in case. You feel his weight shift the bed, and he’s walking toward you on his knees. You lean into his touch the moment his hand makes contact at your lower back, and he’s guiding your shirt off of you. He takes that same arm, wrapping it around your waist, and leans down to situate the crook of your knees over his other arm. He’s carrying you up higher to the center of the bed, completely removing any opportunity for a thought to run through that head of yours. He wants you focused on nothing but the way he’s going to make you feel. 

Once you’re laying down on your back, he makes his way down, placing soft kisses on your belly and all over your thighs while he slides your bottoms down your legs. Once you’re completely bare, Joel situates himself in a way that he’s never done before. He lays next to you on his side, shoulder propping him up, so his hand is underneath your head and he’s still looking down at you. He grabs onto your thigh closest to him, and he hooks your leg atop of his, opening you up. 

The level of intimacy and vulnerability of the way you two are positioned against one another has your mind reeling, absolutely aching to be consumed by him. Joel is always sweet and soft with you, but this is completely on another level. It doesn’t feel motivated by a feral need to rip each other apart. The motivation lies in the pure need to feel. To feel you against him, consumed in the entirety of love and raw emotion. To feel him against you, filling you with a genuine intimacy and devotion you both know only he can provide you.

He brings his other hand up to gently cradle your face, and he leans in to slot his lips against yours, his tongue running along your bottom lip, swallowing the faintest of whimpers that slip from your throat. Your hand slides to the back of his neck, keeping him close, deepening your dance of lip and tongue. His hand drifts away from your face and takes his time to grasp and show attention to the rest of your body. 

He takes one of your breasts in his hand, massaging it with a care that causes your fingers to curl tighter in his hair. He shows the same attention to your other one, then flattens out his entire hand to run down your sternum and belly, positioning his hand on the pathway down for his middle and ring finger to be the first that make contact with your sex. 

And when it does, neither of you can hold back the groan that leaves your mouths. He’s too enamored by you to let his lips leave yours, but you have a feeling your filthy-mouthed man would make a comment about how wet you are for him. You know you’re right when he completely bypasses your clit and down to your entrance, eager to get his fingers covered in you, so he can spread it all over you. 

You pull away for a moment, both of you out of breath and pupils completely blown. “You see how good you make me feel, daddy?” His fingers reach your clit again. “I’m so fucking wet,” you moan out, “and it’s all because of you- all for you, daddy.”

“Baby, please,” he grits out, his fingers leaving your clit after a few more circles, dipping into your entrance with ease. “So fuckin’ good to me, but fuck, stop talking,” he breathes, hips involuntarily thrusting into you, “need you to soak my fingers first, amor.”

You shoot him a smile that gives him butterflies, and then you’re pulling him back in, needing to feel him everywhere he can possibly manage. 

The pace of his fingers are perfect, constantly hitting the spot that’ll get you there in no time with the heated sensation of lips. His hand behind your head moves down and wraps underneath your waist, pulling you in flush with his body. He needs to feel every part of you. Your leg closest to him—the one hooked around his leg—comes off of him, and now you two are completely laying on your sides, facing each other. 

His fingers leave you for a moment to hike your other leg up and around his waist, your pussy inches away from his center. His fingers find you once more, and the angle is impossibly deeper. You’re whining out now as you rock your hips against his hand. He knows you're close with the way your breath shakes. He reaches his thumb up to circle your clit, and you break away from his lips, throwing your head back at an instinct, exposing all your sweet spots for his mouth to reach. As his hands continue working you to the edge, he gives you the final push when he latches at the base of your neck where your shoulder meets, and he litters the area in wet kisses and painfully delicious bites. 

Oh, fuck, daddy, yes,” you moan out, your vision going white and your body going rigid. Your climax hits you so hard that you don’t realize his fingers left you, your thighs still convulsing and hurtling you through your high. You can faintly hear Joel, muttering his sweet whispers, as he always does. 

“Oh, fuck, that was so fuckin’ sexy, baby.”

“You’re beautiful, yanno that?”

“I love you, my pretty girl,” he places a kiss right atop your heart.

Still, your mind is floating somewhere in narnia, so he understands when you don’t reply right away. You’re not even completely back from your orgasmic haze when he pulls his boxers completely off, throwing them somewhere in the room, and his aching cock is resting against your core. 

“Darlin’ girl,” he brings his hand up to guide your limpless head to look at him, “I need you to use your words f’ me, honey, please give me a color,” he says, the softest you have ever heard him. 

You give him the smallest smile back, but it’s so full of love and admiration. You’re lightly nodding your head yes, trying to will your vocal cords to respond. “G-gre..” you let out.

He stops you with a kiss, “Okay, honey, okay, that’s all I needed,” and another kiss, “Can I give my baby what she so desperately wants now?” 

The prospect of the sensation your body is about to go through because of him ignites a fire in you. It forces you to come back down from your haze, so you can register every second of him in his entirety. Your neck straightens and your eyes open fully, pupils blacker than he’s ever seen. “Yes, daddy, please give it to me,” you say with a neediness more than anything. His lip quirks up in a smirk. “What my baby wants, she gets,” and he’s pushing your hips into him as he pushes into you, his tip notching at your entrance. You hiss, reveling in the stretch he gives you regardless of how much he works you open. 

There’s a stigma with Dominants that they are always so calm and collected, always composed and never in a state of neediness and desperation like their submissive counterparts. However, that’s simply not true. In every please, in every whimper, in every cry; in every orgasm, in every act of brattiness, in each use of the honorific; in every demonstration of pure submission: there is a Dominant, willing themself not to give in and give their partner everything they need. There is a Dominant about to break because one more plea from the submissive’s mouth has them ready and willing to forgo every single plan they had for that particular scene. 

And that’s exactly what Joel does here. He had a plan for you, even after you used your yellow code, but with the way he’s wrapped around you tonight—you have the power. You’re calling the shots. He exists simply and solely for you and your pleasure. Nothing else matters. 

He bottoms out, and both his arms are wrapped around your waist, both of you completely aligned with one another. “How do you want me, baby?” 

“I don’t care,” your forehead falls into his, “I just need to feel you, please.”

With your words, he’s thrusting into you with a calculated intention. You needed to feel him, you said. So he pushes in not too fast but not too slow, and hard. He buries himself to the hilt every single time, and it’s like he put you in a trance. Your eyes softly shut, trying to stay open to look at him; your eyebrows are pulled together; and the only sounds falling from your mouth are moans and whimpers and sweet nothings only he’d be able to decipher with your babbling. You feel everything in this angle, with his rhythm. You feel every vein, every ridge, you feel his tip kissing every sweet spot inside of you while simultaneously stealing the oxygen from your lungs. He feels so fucking good. Your leg hooked around his waist squeezes tighter on instinct, and he groans at the feeling. Seeing you completely desperate and at his disposal nearly finishes him right then and there. 

Your hand is at its usual spot for tonight, wrapped tightly in the curls at the base of his neck. You're meeting his thrusts now, and it heightens the sensation tenfold. Both your breaths are hot and heavy, mingling into the thick air of Joel’s bedroom. You’re nearly at the edge again, you both are, but you need a little more of a push. “Baby, t-touch me, please,” you say with more breath than your actual voice. He sounds absolutely pained, “I got’cha, baby, I got’cha.” His hand leaves your waist, the other tightening around you to compensate for its absence, and his fingers are back on your bundle of nerves, circling at the same rhythm that he’s pulling in and out of you. 

A gasp leaves your throat, and every part of you that’s wrapped around him pulls him in impossibly tighter, “fuck, just like that, fuck, please don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop,” you ramble on in an almost incoherent whine. You can feel your words and sounds spurring him on as his cock twitches inside of you. He’s close, too. Then it clicks, you realize what you meant earlier when you said you needed to feel him first.

His fingers speed up and so do his hips. “C’mon, darlin’, such a good fuckin’ girl, give it to me, soak my fuckin’ cock,” he grunts out, now chasing his own release. 

Not stopping your movements, you unravel your arms from him and you push down on his chest, pushing him onto his back. You’re on top of him now, your movements only faltering momentarily as you situated yourself to straddle him. You grab both his arms, the one working your clit and the other on your waist, and you bring them up above his head. You pin them there with your own hand, your body leaning over him and adding to the momentum as you bounce on him. “No,” you say, almost a growl, “Need you inside me first,” sucking his bottom lip. 

He fucking whines. “Need you inside me first, then I’ll give you what you’re looking for.” You switch off into a grind of your hips, moving back and forth as the feel of his pubic hairs rub against your clit causing your pussy to flutter on him. He feels it and his hands flex to move from your grip. Your hold on him tightens. You have the power. You lean down, licking a pathway up his neck and making your way near his ear. You whisper, “Stuff me full of you, daddy, and I’ll fucking soak you, I promise.”

“Fuck!” He growls as your hips speed up, and now he’s the one seeing stars. His face and neck flush into a bright red as he floods you with his release. And as if right on queue, the warmth and the feeling of him in you and seeping out of you is what finishes you. The constant stimulation on your clit from his pubic bone along with the angle his dick continues to prod at, you’re creaming and soaking him, just like he wanted. His thighs and even the area below his belly are drenched with the mixture of your guys’ fluids, and he can’t help but gawk at the scene before him. 

You are completely surrounded by the product of your two’s arousal (plus a bit of blood, but he doesn’t care), you continuing slow grinds as you work yourself through your orgasm, and the way that your head is thrown back in pure bliss—he’s entranced by it all. His cock is nearing the line of painful overstimulation with you still on him, but he really can’t find himself caring enough to get your attention. 

He thought he would never be into giving up his dominance, his yearn for control. But now that you’ve given him a taste at what you’re capable of, fuck, he feels downright insane if he didn’t want more of it. 

You realize he may not be used to the oversensitivity as much as you may be trained for, so you bring yourself to a halt and slowly slip off of him. You bring your eyes to meet his, and you can’t help the giggle that leaves your mouth, seeing the goofy, blissed out grin on his face as he looks at you. You lean towards his head and give him a sweet kiss to his lips and his nose, and you softly tell him that you’ll be right back but to stay here with a slightly more demanding tone. 

You quickly go pee in his en suite bathroom and wipe your bottom half down. You grab a pair of his boxers he leaves for emergencies under the sink (you let out a little chuckle at the fact), and grab a pad from the box he also leaves under the sink, for you, and stick it onto his underwear before shimmying it up on you. You grab another washcloth and soak it in warm water and walk back to the bed. You sit yourself up next to him and start wiping him down. As soon as you finish, you try your best and throw the washcloth, aiming for the sink of the bathroom, but you fail, miserably. It lands with a wet plop on the side of the toilet, centimeters away from landing in the toilet’s bowl. “Eh, that’s good enough,” you say to no one in particular as you nudge him to bring his hips up so you can take the towel out that he placed earlier to catch any of your blood drippings. You place it in the hamper, then you bring yourself to lay back down, cuddling into Joel. 

He turns so you both are facing each other again. His head propped up on his hand. His other hand runs up and down everywhere he can reach. 

“W-was what I did at the end there… was that okay?” you ask meekly as you slowly bring your eyes up to his. 

He lets out a hearty laugh, shoulders shaking. You weren’t expecting that kind of reaction. “Honestly,” he says as his fingers come to a stop and he just lets his arm wrap around you lazily. “I was really shocked when you flipped me over, but then,” he pauses for a second. Really just to spur you on more than anything. “I was so fuckin’ turned on and achin’ for you. I’d just about let you do anythin’ to me if you treat me like that, darlin’,” he says as he leans down to place a kiss to your lips. 

He pulls back and your gaze is away from him and your cheeks are as red as he was earlier. A shy smile paints your face. He brings his fingers up to your chin, “Oh, come on now, no point in gettin’ all shy on me now is there, my dirty girl?”

You give him the best reprimanding face you can muster (which he finds beyond adorable), and you parrot a common phrase he uses with you when you’re a brat, “Watch it, big boy.”

He laughs at your antics, but you see his cock twitch at the pet name. Your eyebrows shoot up. “Joel!” you say, actually reprimanding him this time, but you genuinely don’t know what for. 

His hand shoots to cover his mouth, an attempt at stopping his burst of laughter at your reaction. He lets go of his mouth after a moment and pulls you closer to him. He places kisses all over your face while you both giggle and let yourselves fall from your high together. 

He abruptly stops his kisses to look at you. He doesn’t say a word. “Yes?” you ask, curious of that mind of his. 

“Ya know how much I love you, right?” he asks, genuinely. 

“I think I’ve got a pretty good hint, baby.” 

“Good,” he says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“And I love you so much, you do know that, right?” you offer as you bury yourself into his chest, inhaling his musk mingled the faint aroma of you.

He repeats your response back to you. You smile in his chest. It’s you who places a kiss atop his heart this time. 

You both stay wrapped up in each other for a few more hours before your tummy begins yelling at you for sustenance. Though, until that happens, you two lie in each other’s arms, wondering what you did to deserve such an all-consuming, raw and genuine love. 

Your mother was right. You really were the brightest flower in the garden, and it was all because of your big, macho man, who was actually as soft and cuddly as the clouds that bring water for the garden. Ever since he entered your life, he made sure those clouds poured all their attention on you. Giving you all the water and nutrients, all the love and care that you would ever need. 

Forever. 

End note: Thank you so much for reading! As always, your support is always always appreciated. There's no amount of words to describe how grateful I am for how much love I receive from you all. You're all too amazing. Feedback is also greatly appreciated, whether it's praise or constructive! Anything and everything helps me to be the best writer I can be. I love you all so very much💚💚💚

Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @janaispunk @teatree121 @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

[melon-fodder]

ALWAYS HAVE BEEN • T. HIRAGI

Summary: Hiragi drops in on you unannounced after a fight. Once you patch him up things take an unexpected turn, one you’ve wanted for years.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: smut, reader is Matsumoto’s sister in some capacity, mentions of fighting, very minor injuries, reader has female anatomy, Hiragi gets dirty in this (bless), fingering, oral (f! receiving), p in v, multiple orgasms, squirting, dirty talk, pet names: pretty girl, baby

Note: This got away from me so fast, but it needed to happen. Finally, finally, I have written something more than a drabble for the love of my life 💚 Enjoy~

The bathroom is still full of steam when you step out of the shower, keeping your face damp even after toweling it off. You dry your hair as well as you can, comb some leave-in conditioner through it, then wipe part of the mirror clear to get started on your simple skin care routine. The vent is loud enough to block out any sound from outside, specifically the door to your apartment opening and closing, a voice that would be familiar calling out for your brother. Ignorant of your guest, you just keep humming, rubbing in moisturizer, gliding your jade roller over your face. The tool clatters into the sink when you startle, jumping out of your skin when you hear a deep voice on the other side of the door, “Yo, Matsumoto–” Hiragi, one of your brother’s closest friends and fellow member of Bofurin. Despite not feeling threatened that he’s in your home, your heart rate doesn’t slow down one bit. In fact, it speeds up. “You still have that first-aid kit somewhere?” he calls out, and you rush to wrap a towel around yourself, knotting it securely over your chest, then crack the door to peer up at him. Hiragi’s eyebrows raise high on his forehead, pink dusting his cheeks when he realizes– “Yodai isn’t home right now.” “Shi–I mean, sorry, I’ll leave.” There’s a bruise blooming just beside his left eye, and his bottom lip is split open on one side. You don’t even have to look at his hands to know that his knuckles are bloodied. They stay in a constant state of rawness, similar to your brother’s. “No, it’s fine,” you tell him as he begins to back away. It’s an awkward situation, but, while you would have been mortified a couple years ago, you’re more comfortable with yourself now. Plus, you know for a fact Hiragi would never hurt you. “Give me a second to make myself, ya know, decent,” you gesture vaguely to yourself which makes the man flush even darker and stare at the ceiling, “and then I’ll grab the first-aid kit for ya’.”

Hiragi clears his throat before muttering, “thanks,” then strides back out to the living room, leaving you to skitter across the hall into your bedroom to put some damn clothes on.

You’ve known the Furin boys (men now, you suppose) since high school when Yodai joined. Out of all of them, you’re most familiar with Yanagida, Kaji, and of course, Hiragi, having grown accustomed to them dropping in at all hours, usually after fights but sometimes just to relax. First it had been at your family home, but even when you and your brother moved into your own small, shared apartment, you still found yourself walking into a full house fairly often.

The point is that you’re comfortable with all of them. Even if you’ve been harboring a tiny (massive) crush on Hiragi since the day you met him. It’s fine, though. Everything will be fine. You’ll get him patched up and send him on his way, and nothing will change even though he just saw you in nothing but a towel.

You could have covered up a little better, probably should have, but it’s your apartment, so when you walk back out it’s in a faded metal band t-shirt and a pair of maybe-too-small terry cloth shorts. Whatever.

Hiragi is sitting in the kitchen and straightens up when you walk in, immediately apologizing again until you wave him off.

“It’s fine, I promise. I’ve gotten pretty used to you popping in with no warning,” you kid.

“I didn’t realize it was… I mean, I texted your brother to give him a heads up.”

“Well, as it happens, he does occasionally do things that aren’t gang-related. Errands, dates…”

Hiragi scoffs as you open one of the high cabinets, something about, “I’d know if Matsumoto was datin’ someone. He’s just blowin’ me off ‘cause I put him to work yesterday–hey!” He’s suddenly on his feet when he notices you swing a leg up on the counter. “Don’t climb that! You’re gonna break your damn neck!”

Pulling you off and away from the oh-so dangerous countertops, Hiragi reaches into the cabinet that is much more accessible to him–god, he’s so tall, deliciously tall–and retrieves the little red box you were aiming for. When he starts for the hallway again you catch him by the wrist and try to lead him back into his chair.

“I can patch myself back up, kid,” he tells you. The name raises your hackles while simultaneously forcing a shiver down your spine. Yodai calls you ‘kiddo’ but he’s allowed, even if you are only a few months younger than him. Hiragi, though… You would really prefer if he was able to see past the whole Matsumoto’s little sister thing.

“Just sit down,” you command more than request. “You have clumsy man fingers. I’ll be able to do a better job.”

And you do, dabbing at the tiny cut on his eyebrow with a cotton ball before carefully applying a butterfly bandage. The bruise on the side of his head doesn’t show any broken skin, so there’s not much you can do there, but you are able to tend to that swollen lip. Hiragi pouts like he isn’t a huge fan of you taking care of him like this, but tough shit. It’s in your nature. Plus, you’ve got far gentler hands. He’d probably find a way to hurt himself even worse, get too rough with a q-tip or something.

It’s quiet for a little while, and you are keenly aware of how close you are to him (another contributing factor as to why you’re doing this? Possibly). You’re bent at the waist while dabbing at his face, and you know your shirt is offering a bit of a view after cutting the collar open years ago in an attempt to give it an edgier look. Hiragi isn’t looking, though, gaze trained upward as he pushes his lip out for you.

“He really out on a date?” he eventually asks, and you smirk. Apparently, he doesn’t handle silence well either.

“Yeah,” you answer, waiting a beat before adding, “with our mom.”

Hiragi tries to smile only for you to squish his cheeks together, poking your tongue out at him when he makes a noise of protest.

You think you’re playing it pretty cool so far–casual and lighthearted. That doesn’t mean you aren’t thinking about how you want to pepper his face with kisses, though. Just get comfortable in his lap, play with the short, bleached hairs at the back of his head. See how much you can tease him before he starts rolling his hips against yours…

“Wha’re you ‘hinkin awout?” Hiragi halfway manages through the grip you have on his face.

You let go of him, realize you’re sucking on your own lip, that your eyelids have gotten heavy with desire, but you pull yourself out of it with a short shake of your head.

“Nothing important.”

“No?” He surprises you by sitting forward, and the sudden motion makes you stumble back just enough to trigger his instincts into reaching out and grabbing you before you can fall over. Hands around your waist (huge, warm hands) Hiragi pins you with jasper eyes. “Nothin’ important?”

You swallow visibly. Audibly. But shake your head again. He’s just doing that thing–that subtle check-in, making sure you’re okay without actually asking. Thinks he scared you earlier or that you’re pissed at him showing up in the first place. It’s not like he’s holding you like this just to fuck with you. Hiragi isn’t the type to do that.

But he also isn’t the type to linger, more of a head-pat or brief one armed hug type of guy. So why are his fingers curling against the hem of your shirt? And why is he lifting his eyebrow like that?

“Not often it’s just you n’ me alone, huh?” he prompts, finally letting his hands drop to his thighs.

“No,” your voice cracks and you swear internally. “No, not since that one time in school when the others ran off without you.” A fight that Yodai took very personally, ignoring his captain when Hiragi had called out to him to slow down, responding only with, “keep my sister safe!” as if he had any right to demand something like that from his higher-up.

But it was Hiragi, so he did in fact stay behind to keep an eye on you while Yodai and Kaji brawled out in the school yard. It was right around that time that your crush on him had really bloomed, so being alone in a room with him… You spent most of the time shaking in the corner, eyes darting back and forth between Hiragi and anywhere else. Of course he noticed, frowning at you in confusion but not willing to ask questions and make you even more uncomfortable.

“You were terrified of me back then,” he chuckles now, showing off sharp teeth that you want to feel against your neck.

You laugh–giggle, really–because, “I was not scared of you.”

“What? You were shakin’ like a leaf. I remember you all curled up in one of the desks.”

“Yeah, but not ‘cause I was scared,” you reiterate. “I had a crush on you, idiot.”

It’s okay if he knows now, just as long as you talk about it like it’s in the past, like you’ve moved on.

Hiragi’s eyes widen, truly surprised. “Wait, for real?”

“For real,” you grin, deciding now is a good time to gather up the used cotton balls and throw them away. Putting a few feet of distance between the two of you is good, helps you take in full breaths. Still, even on the other side of the kitchen you can feel his eyes on you.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

You spin around, not expecting that question at all, and grapple for a believable answer. “M-me? Back then? Are you kidding? I was so… All I did was follow Yodai around like some–”

“Kid sister?” he finishes for you, an amused smile lifting the swollen side of his mouth. “It was cute.”

Your jaw drops, somehow offended and flattered at the same time. “It was weird. Like I didn’t have friends or anything better to do.”

Hiragi shrugs. “You just seemed kinda shy. Innocent. Like I said, it was cute.”

Narrowing your eyes, you know you’re about to say something stupid, but you just can’t help it. “Innocent? And you thought it was cute? You some kind of creep, Ragi?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Depends. You still got that crush on me?”

Yes. “No.” You answer too quickly. Way too quickly. And Hiragi’s eyes shine. Trying to recover, you walk back toward him, doing your absolute best to look unfazed and confident. “Even if I did, it wouldn’t matter since I’m not all shy and innocent anymore.”

Hiragi stands up, all 187 centimeters of shiny leather and bleached hair looming over you, and you feel your breath hiccup in your throat. Fuck, he’s only gotten hotter over the years, and you’ve only gotten more desperate for him.

“Who said I was still into that sorta thing?”

You know you look ridiculous, gazing up at him with big doe eyes, lips parted, absolutely everything written all over your face, and all that confidence is gone because he’s staring down at you, and he knows. He knows your feelings, knows you want him. Now.

You don’t think; you just do–shoving yourself up on your tiptoes while wrapping your fingers in his shirt, you pull Hiragi toward you, kissing him hard enough to force a grunt from him. He doesn’t hesitate to respond, bending on his own accord while walking you back to the nearest wall and pressing you to it. You breathe through your nose, each inhale full of his cologne and a hint of sweat. The taste of antiseptic barely registers when you swipe your tongue over his lip, overpowered by the remnants of blood.

His body is hot and hard against yours. Not just the bulge pressing into your stomach, but his chest, his abs, the thigh that slides between yours. You can’t help but grind down on it, gasping into his mouth at the same time he mutters a deep, “fuck.”

His hands are under your shirt, squeezing your curves, blunt nails lightly scratching, and he groans when he traces the swell of your bare tits.

Pulling away, Hiragi huffs against your neck, voice like gravel when he tells you, “I’m about to defile you,” so matter-of-fact that it makes you moan out loud.

“Fu–please, want you so bad,” you whine, and it’s pitiful. Pathetic. Nothing cool or casual about you now as you pant for him. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“I know.” He takes your face in both hands, nodding so that his nose bumps into yours. “M’right here, I’ve gotcha.”

Hiragi kisses you again, teeth nipping until you open your mouth for him. The sensation of his tongue against yours has you all but riding his thigh. You know you’ll be leaking through your skimpy underwear if you haven’t already, and your arousal only increases when Hiragi bends to grip you by the thighs, lifting you onto the nearest countertop.

It makes you snicker, “m’gonna break my neck, remember?”

“Tch.” Hiragi kisses down said neck, stopping to bite and suck, hand on your back to feel how it arches for him. “Not gonna let that happen.”

One hand under your shirt, Hiragi uses his other to dance along your leg, higher and higher until he reaches the bottoms of your shorts, loose enough to slip beneath.

“Tell me to stop if you–”

“Don’t stop.”

He laughs, shrugging out of his jacket when you start to push it off his shoulders, and once it’s on the floor his hands are on you again, fingers disappearing under your shorts to stroke over your poorly covered pussy. Hiragi hums in satisfaction, obviously pleased at how wet you are. You expect him to comment on it since he obviously has a bit of smartass in him, but he doesn’t. Instead he drops to his knees and starts tugging at your bottoms.

You can barely process what’s happening. Is he really–are you finally–holy shit, you’ve dreamt of this. His face between your legs, tongue lapping at your slick, a finger slowly sinking into your wanton cunt.

“Ohh, fuck, fuck…”

You feel the points of his teeth graze your puffy folds, sharp and teasing before he wraps his lips around your swelling clit and sucks.

The noise you let out is embarrassing, high-pitched and uncontrolled. Your fingers find purchase in his hair, softer than expected. Must’ve switched from gel to something else. The thought makes you laugh a little hysterically. Here he is, Toma Hiragi, eating your pussy like it’s his job, and you’re thinking about his hair. He shuts you up with a second finger, though, both of them bent to rub against your g-spot, and you whimper as pressure begins to build between your hips.

It feels so good. He feels so fucking good, licking and slurping and fucking you with his fingers, but you want more, you– “Ragi, please, fuck, I want… I need…”

One long lick to the crest of your pussy then he asks, “what do you need?” only to return to sucking on your clit again, stealing your breath away for just a moment. “Tell me, come on, pretty girl, use your words.”

“I–” Pretty girl. “I—��� his fingers are still moving inside you, making your head loll back and hit the cabinets behind you. “I–fuck, need to feel you.”

He stands, still not pulling his fingers from you, and he uses his thumb to circle your clit as he leans into your space and teases, “need me? I’m right here.”

Your eyes roll behind fluttering lids, lips pulling down into a pout that he promptly covers with his own, messy mouth. He’s overwhelming, fingers moving perfectly, milking slick from you with every stroke of your g-spot, and fuck, the way he’s kissing you, how he’s touching you, how he’s teasing you with a soft, “yeah, baby? Can’t even talk, huh? Feel that good?” He’s filthy. Hiragi is so much dirtier than you imagined, and you have imagined a lot when it comes to him.

“Fuck me, please please please, Ragi, wanna feel your cock,” you babble, tears pricking the corners of your eyes because it’s so much, and you’re ready to cum, but there’s something missing. You need to feel all of him first.

The clinking of his belt draws your hazy eyes downward, and you salivate when he pushes his pants down and his cock springs free–long enough to make you shudder with anticipation, thick enough to make you pulse with need, and hard enough to make you preen. You did that to him. You’re doing this to him. You’re the reason for that shiny bead of pre glistening at his slit.

You want to lick it clean, fuck, you want to suck him off, swallow him down, feel him in your stomach. You want him to cum down your throat and fill you up and–

“You look like you wanna eat me,” he says. For a guy with a split lip, he sure is smirking a lot. Doesn’t that sting?

“I wanna do a lot of things to you, Hiragi, but first…” you reach down with a trembling hand, fingers wrapping around his smooth shaft, “I want you to fuck me.”

Growling, he pulls you to the very edge of the counter, conveniently the perfect height for him to line himself up with you. He rubs his tip between your sloppy lips, slapping it against your clit a couple times and sucking your gasp straight from your lips when he kisses you.

You squeal when he starts to push inside you, his thick head already stretching you, but he murmurs, “I’ll go slow,” into your mouth. His voice is shakier than before, strained while he stays true to his word. Skilled fingers rub your clit, massaging it while sinking deeper into you. The stretch is, fuck, it’s perfection. It twinges in the most delicious way, his cock steadily bullying your walls, making way for itself like it belongs there. The stretch and the sounds and his fingers on your swollen bud all have your toes curling and back bowing.

“O-oh, Jesus, Ragi, I’m–m’gonna…”

“Come on, show me how pretty you look when you cum,” he grunts, bottoming out just in time for your pussy to start spasming, clenching over and over as you make a mess all over him. “Yeah, just like that, look at you creamin’ on my cock–you gonna squirt too?” He starts swiping over your clit faster than before, pulling out and fucking back into you as you ride out your orgasm, your sopping hole opening up for him even more as you– “there it is, god damn, such a pretty pussy. You always this messy, or s’it just for me?”

You can’t speak. Hiragi keeps fucking squirt out of you, hips relentless, just like his fingers on your clit, and before you know it he’s forcing another full-body orgasm out of you.

You didn’t know it would be this good. Didn’t know it could be this good. You’ve had sex with a few other guys, and some had even managed to get you off, but not like this. This is something else entirely.

Much to your dismay, Hiragi begins to slow, and it’s only when you open bleary eyes that you notice the tears streaming down your face. For the first time since he got to the apartment and almost walked in on you, he looks concerned.

“Am I hurtin’ you?” he asks, a calloused thumb wiping your wet cheek.

You shake your head, legs wrapping around his waist to urge him deeper. “No, no, you just, mm, you feel so good.”

He bites his lip, thrusting a little faster again, little harder, groans that you, “feel fuckin’ perfect, baby. Think your pussy was made for me.”

Your words are broken and breathy as you agree with him, “it was–all yours, Ragi, I’m all yours…” too high off endorphins and overwhelmed with pleasure to even recognize what you’re admitting to.

“Yeah?” he slows again, but the way he’s burying himself inside of you is making you drool. “Always been my girl, haven’t ya’?

You nod, and he catches you in another brain-addling kiss, breathing a barely coherent, “yours, too. Been yours since day one.”

You lock your arms around his neck, pulling him impossible closer, and when his hips start to stutter you press your mouth to his, swallowing his low groan as he spills his load inside of you. The kiss is sweeter than all the others before, tongues lazy and clumsy as he uses you to milk himself dry, and once both of you are entirely spent, your lips stay molded together, hot and insistent, saying everything that has yet to be said out loud.

“You meant it?” he asks quietly, that sinful tone gone from his voice, replaced with something much softer. “You’re still my girl?”

You sigh dramatically and nuzzle into his neck. “Always have been, probably always will be.”

Face in your hair, Hiragi chuckles, “don’t sound so embarrassed.”

“It is embarrassing. Been pining after you for years.”

“At least you weren’t the one chasin’ after your friend’s little sister.”

Lifting your head, you regard him with a raised eyebrow, “speaking of, what are you gonna tell Yodai?”

He shrugs, the picture of nonchalant despite still being balls deep inside of you. “I’ll be respectful, but in the end I’m still his superior.”

“The Furin hierarchy still stands when it comes to fucking sisters?” you laugh.

“If it means I can be with you without catchin’ any bullshit for it, absolutely.” He punctuates it with a peck to your forehead then looks down between the two of you. “We should probably, uh…”

“Get cleaned up before it’s too late?”

“Exactly. Otherwise–”

Keys turn in the lock. The front door opens.

You look at Hiragi with wide eyes as he turns red from his neck to his hairline.

“Wait right there, Yodai!” you call out frantically, fighting a whimper when Hiragi pulls out a little too quickly.

There isn’t enough time, though, not for him to zip himself back in his pants and definitely not enough for you to pull yours back on.

Yodai rounds the corner, takes in the scene, then turns right back around while shouting, “the kitchen counter? Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

Do not copy, modify, or repost my work. I do not consent to my writing being used for AI.

[preeningpisces]

Report - Kenjaku x F!Reader

Kenjaku shows up unannounced, and makes himself all too comfortable in your apartment. Pwp, 4k, Crossposted on AO3

A/N: At first I referred to him as Geto in this, as I found it unlikely YN would know his real name, but then figured this has no plot and there isn't many Kenjaku x reader fics without Geto & swapped it to Kenjaku ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Shoutout to this lovely anon for giving me a reason/the drive to write something for my favorite hoe 💚

Content: p-in-v, m!oral, sex toys, size kink, unprepped sex, edging, choking, biting, spit/cum stuff, degradation--personally I think this is more tame than it sounds

18+ content below, mdni, implied chubby!reader, enjoooy!

The figure seated at your dinner table makes your soul leap from your body.

Tonight you planned a date with a hot shower, your favorite snacks, and three seasons’ worth of TV to binge. You’d only completed step one, so recently that your skin hasn’t finished absorbing the lotion, leaving your calves and thighs tacky.

His back is to you, but you know he’s aware of your presence. For once, he isn’t wearing his signature robes, and instead sports simple black clothing. Seeing him dressed down is comforting, makes him seem less untouchable, and more like a regular person.

You lament the change in your evening plans, knowing your guest will occupy a decent portion of your time. 

“You take awfully long showers,” he says without turning. “I’ve been here for over an hour.” 

Springing up at random isn’t out of the ordinary for Kenjaku, though it’s more common for him to send messages from unknown numbers or ‘coincidentally’ run into you. He’s never showed up at your apartment before, let alone at such an odd hour of the night. Briefly you wonder how he knows where you live, but then dismiss this as a foolish thought—of course he knows.

“I’m just thorough,” you say as you round the table and sit across from him where he reads one of your books. A silly romance that was popular online; hardly revolutionary or life-altering, but it was a sweet, endearing story and you enjoyed it quite a bit. With how far he’s in, you wonder if he picked a random spot or simply reads that quickly.

“That you are.” He glances up, and a shift in his eye tells you he wasn’t expecting the cotton bathrobe with matching shorts. It’s a favorite that you got off a discount rack, lying somewhere between the lines of sensual and comfortable. Flattering, but hardly scandalous; you don’t feel indecent in his presence. 

“I’m surprised you enjoy this drivel,” he says, judgment evident. “You seemed more intelligent than that.” 

“They’re just for fun. Sometimes it’s nice to read something simple,” you reach for the book, beginning to feel defensive. 

He leans back, now flipping through its contents. It reminds you of a schoolyard bully holding your belongings above you and taunting you for being too short. 

“Are you here to antagonize me, or are you here for something actually important?” As soon as you say this, you know you made a mistake: the ire in your voice will only encourage his pestering.

“I came for your report, but now I’m more interested in your terrible taste.” He gestures to your bookshelf—small, and housing a modest collection of varying genres with the occasional knick knack. “I’ve gone through several already, but saved what I suspect to be the worst for last.”

“Then you can follow me on Goodreads, if you’re so curious. Now give that back,” you hold out your hand, growing agitated. The light catches the ridge of his scar, and taunts you to tug on one of those stitches, which look much less secure than they should. 

“Embarrassed?” He smiles, and makes no move to relinquish the book. 

“If I say yes, will you give it back?” 

A snide puff.

“No.” 

Knowing how fickle he is, you relent; he’ll grow bored with the book soon enough and move on. But minutes of his skimming pass, wholly ignoring your crossed arms and impatient tapping.

“Ah, I see. Is this why you’re so fond of these?” He turns the book for you to read: it’s one of the few sex scenes, and his finger points to a questionable line of dialogue. 

You can’t resist the bait, and indignation rises in your chest. You spring forward in your seat, aiming for the book. Unfazed by your aggression, he avoids you with ease and an infuriating smirk. It only provokes you further, now motivating you to one-up him.

There is a sudden pause in his movements that allows you to snatch the book. As you look at him triumphantly, you notice his eyes aren’t directed at your face; instead, they’re fixed on your chest. Following his gaze, your heart sinks when you discover your robe hanging open, revealing your right breast. 

When you look at him again, his eyes are on yours. Heavy and lidded, they freeze you in place with their weight. The playful energy from before halts, as if the room itself is holding its breath. Without breaking eye contact, he slides his hand in the opening, and cups your breast.

Shocked, you drop the book with a muted thud, more from his boldness than the sensation. A gasp escapes you when he pinches your nipple, rolling it slowly, and your hands fly to his shoulders, not wanting to topple over from the awkward position.

His other hand joins and teases your unexposed breast through the cloth; you fall against him, and a soft noise warms his ear before tracing the stretched lobe with your lower lip. Whether it’s ticklish or it’s your interest in his ear that entertains him, his shoulders thrum with amusement. The plastic clacks between your teeth as you toy with the plug, seeing how far you can rotate it before he becomes irritated.

It doesn’t take long, because a hand winds itself in your hair and pulls you forward, but the table creaks in protest under your weight. 

“Not here,” you say, husk already tinting your voice. “It’s a shitty table.” 

He releases you and follows you down the hallway to your bedroom. You don’t even have time to flick on the light before he pulls you backward, connecting your ass to his groin with his large hands fondling your breasts.

The eager touch surprises you—he hadn’t seemed at all bothered when you stopped him before. You can’t help but shiver when he sucks on your neck, fixing it with hickeys and bites. A renewed focus on your nipples makes you whimper and squeeze at his forearms. 

“Sensitive here, or are you just desperate?” He punctuates with a pull of your left nipple. 

“A bit of both,” you say, and press your ass against him. It’s been some time since you’ve felt this kind of touch, let alone by someone as attractive as him. 

“Cute,” he hums, and grinds his forming erection against you. 

Cool palms slide beneath the robe again, making your nipples so peaked they sting. Deft fingers are quick to melt the cold with slow rolls that morph into pinching and dragging from areola to tip. The attention makes you squirm in his hold and rest your head against his shoulder, weaving your fingers through his glorious hair—which is every bit as silky as it appears. Needing an outlet for your rising desire, you detach him from your neck and angle his head so you can force your lips together. 

The kiss is more passionate than you expected, and it only makes you melt further in his hands. You scratch his scalp and earn a surprised moan. His right hand trails upward, wrapping around a considerable portion of your neck. Air isn’t cut or restricted, but he squeezes enough for your pulse to quicken and make your head fuzzy.

A twist of your nipple makes you arch your back, and he sucks your lower lip until it bruises. Teeth scrape it briefly, before he pushes his tongue into your open mouth and greets yours unabashedly. 

Kenjaku has an air of grace to him, of superiority; you’d think him above such things as these. But he doesn’t flinch or show any disgust when drool pools from the messy kiss—he even licks the bit that trickles down your chin. He breaks the kiss, parting slowly to appreciate the strand that connects your mouths. 

A tug of the simple knot at your waist peels your robe open, and you help him by shrugging your shoulders free. The hold on your neck tightens, and he feels down your stomach, dipping below the waistband of your shorts. Your skin prickles with embarrassment when he squeezes the full softness above your pussy. A pleased noise comes from the back of his throat when he realizes you have no underwear and finds slippery arousal. 

“Look at me.”

You feel how heavy your eyes are, how blatant lust must be on your face. His middle finger finds your clit and traces a single rough, short line, making you flinch. Almost imperceptible circles soothe the rough sensation, leading you to loosen your grip on his hair and hold his wrist. The featherlike strokes feel like static, and every tingle of your flesh touching makes you wetter. 

When your eyes shut, he squeezes your neck again, demanding you keep your focus on him. Even in moments like this, his eyes are full of condescension and superiority; the lowliness you feel in his presence only stirs your need. 

Awkwardly, you feel around behind you for his cock and rub your palm over it as best you can. Despite the clumsy touch, his breath hitches, and his clever fingers pause. Thrill dances in your chest and you stroke him more firmly.

His hand flexes around your neck, and you can’t tell if it’s a warning or a green light. Whichever he intends doesn’t matter to you, because you squeeze his bulge. The firm tap of his finger on your clit reads as chastisement, but you ignore it, already deciding your next move. 

“I want to suck your dick,” you say. You aren’t too prideful to kowtow to his desire for control. “Can I?” 

Dark eyes shelter his thoughts as he considers your offer, and for a moment you think he’s going to turn you down, but he dips his finger in your hole and briefly skims the edge before swiping back up to your clit. A small noise comes out, and your face must be comical because he looks more amused than before. 

“How polite.” The lack of heat and touch as he steps away are disappointing, but the sounds of his belt and zipper more than make up for their loss. “I suppose I’ll let you.”

“Let me,” you snort as you watch him undress. “As if you didn’t start this.”

A broad hand presses down on your shoulder, urging you to kneel—which you do eagerly, not minding the cheap carpet scratching your knees.

“I did, and now you’re exactly where I want you,” he removes his sweater, bearing the impressive muscles of his abdomen. You wonder if this was his true intention coming here tonight and that he played you like a fiddle.

These thoughts disappear when he pulls his trousers and underwear down; you can’t help when your face twists in shock: his cock is huge.

“No wonder you’re so full of yourself.” 

He smirks, and you dread what this affair will do to his already inflated ego.

You scoot forward, assessing the beast, and idly rotate your jaw to prepare for the task at hand. Despite most of his head being exposed and dripping with pre-cum, you push back the remaining foreskin to fully reveal the dark head. You lean forward for a kiss, but land it on his groin instead. 

The click of his tongue and the twitch beneath you is reward enough for the entire night; you’re confident he would never beg for anything from you, but this disappointment feels close enough to claim the satisfaction all the same. 

Still positioned at his tip, your thumbs softly stroke the sides, more soothing than pleasurable as you continue to mouth everywhere but his cock. Fed up, he grips your hair and pulls you back. You get the message, and eagerly suck his head in your mouth, where you set your lips and tongue to work; it’s difficult with his girth, but you manage. He grunts and loosens his hold, allowing you to do as you please. 

To show your gratitude, you plunge him deeper, tongue now rubbing along the seam of his cock as you flex and contract your lips. The muscles in his thighs jolt, and you feel energy rolling off him—the urge to do something, to react.

Steeling your resolve, you slide him further in and pull back, never stopping the pulse of your lips or tongue. It’s then that you suck around him, creating the wet sounds of suction that fill your small bedroom.

The light from the hallway glows behind him, making him radiant; like he’s a god, and this is your offering.

You cup his balls gently and rub a thumb over them to test the waters. Your curiosity is rewarded when the single hand in your hair becomes two, and he moves your head for you.

They cover your ears, cutting out all sound. Whether this is intentional, you can’t say. All you can hear is the wet sounds of your mouth molding around his cock. It’s as if this is your entire world, that this is the only thing you’re good for, and the thought makes you drip. 

Lewdly, you hum and moan your prayer around him. Noises of his own join yours, but you are not worthy of hearing them. Overeager, he pulls you down further on his cock, poking dangerously close to your gag reflex. Your second unoccupied hand wraps around the portion not in your mouth preemptively, and stroke him in time with your mouth. Seeing right through your attempt, he holds your head still and begins fucking your mouth.

It takes only a few thrusts for him to push deeper than before, making you gag softly, which causes him to throw his head back and continue the deep thrusts. It’s uncomfortable, but not so much that you feel the need to stop him. Watching him loosen up is so hypnotic you don’t register how worryingly deep he is in your throat. Until he surges himself all the way forward, forcing your nose to meet his groin. 

When you choke, he groans deeply, and rolls against your face as your throat convulses around him sporadically. You’re about to beat at his thigh, but he pulls you off his cock entirely.

Quickly, you recover and recapture him despite the pull on your hair, doubling down with a soft mouth, tonguing all the sensitive spots you found. And to your surprise, hot cum spurts down your throat with a low groan. You drink it all until he pulls your head back and strokes his cock, shooting the remaining spurts on your face.

You didn’t think he’d be so quick to cum, and it seems, neither did he.

A painful yank of your hair forces you to stand before you can comment, and full of surprises, he licks a line of cum from your chin and smears it over your tongue with his own. The dirtiness of it makes a raw noise come from your abused throat.

Not breaking the kiss, he walks you to your bed and pushes you back; you scoot yourself to the headboard and barely shimmy your shorts off before he crawls atop you, flaccid cock in hand. With a surge of reversed cursed energy, he urges it to re-harden. 

“Is this the difference between special grades and the rest of us?” 

He doesn’t acknowledge your taunt, and after two pumps, positions his cock at your hole. Unprepped, his tip presses against the ring of muscle for several moments, unable to breech despite ample lubrication.

“The Viagra tech-”

Your pussy finally yields, and his cock spears itself to the hilt.

“Fuck!” 

Mercifully, he doesn’t rail you, and instead rolls his hips, stroking your most receptive spots. It aches, his cock stretching you to what feels like your capacity, but it’s the sort of ache that makes you crave more. You meet his hips with your own, desperately chasing more of the electric feeling. He grabs the underside of your knees and leans forward, putting his weight on them. The position angles his cock upward and fucks you with more fervor. 

“Jesus, it’s so big,” you say, legs trembling in his hold. 

Needing a distraction, you cup the back of his head and pull him as close as your breasts and stomach allow. You kiss at whatever flesh you can reach, starting at his damp hairline, and following up immediately with the seam on his forehead. The simple kiss earns you a sharp cant of his hips and a hiss, tempting you to fixate on the scar.

Your tongue traces the divot faintly, careful not to press too hard and minding the sutures. The effect is immediate, as he ruts into you, slow, deep, and hard, surprisingly loud moans spilling from his pretty lips. Even his moans are rough, as if they scrape his throat on their way out. Like his vocal chords haven’t made such sounds in some time. 

“Sensitive?” You murmur your tease against the raised flesh. 

“Wounds tend to be, yes.” He kisses you tenderly, and when you sigh, bites your lower lip with a crunch. Teeth pierce, and copper flavors the kiss. You part with a hiss, and his thumb swipes at the puncture. “See? Or do you need further demonstration.”

“You’re such a dick,” you mutter, batting his hand away from your sore lip.

His attention falters, and you follow his eyes to your nightstand. You live alone and have no need for secrecy, so your vibrator charges in plain sight. Owning sex toys is something you’ve never thought twice about, let alone felt any shame towards, but you become flustered when Kenjaku leans over and unplugs it.

Excitement overpowers your embarrassment when he turns it on. To your surprise, he doesn’t place it on your clit, and instead keeps it in a low setting and traces it along your labia. His hips slow, but they maintain a steady pace. Your body tenses with anticipation anytime it nears your clit, but it still doesn’t touch you. The stretch of his cock feels amazing, but your clit practically burns with need, swollen and begging to be touched.

“Now, what do you have for me this week?” he asks, full of mischief.

“What?”

He pushes your chubby mound upward and finally places the toy on your clit—you gasp. 

“Your report. It’s what I came here for, after all.” 

He circles the vibrator around your clit in time with his hips, looking all too amused when you struggle to respond. You ignore his question, and instead squeeze your eyes shut as your orgasm approaches at an alarming rate. You’ve waited so long, you’ve been so pent up, you just need—

“Ah, ah, you’ve got a job to do. Stay focused,” he tuts, and lifts the vibrator. You swear loudly, and your hips chase the toy, but he pins you with a hand on your hip. 

“T-the first year,” you begin, legs trembling with pent up anticipation, “students–” you whimper when the vibrator returns. 

“Go on,” he coos. 

“They-they…” you trail off when a slow and delicious drag of his cock steals your mind. The vibrator moves, and you throw your head back. “Theywentto–fuck!” 

“Speak clearly; this is vital information.” He presses it on fully, directly, gleefully watching you struggle. 

“They wen-went to Ro-oooh,” with a click, he turns it up a notch. “Fuck, you’re–” he nestles it between your lips and rotates it teasingly. Only a few hums more and he removes it again. 

“Please, please don’t stop.” Your voice warbles pathetically, “please let me cum. I need it–”

“And I need your report,” he smiles, as if he isn’t torturing you. 

The hopeless look you give him must spur him on, because he fucks you with the most vigor he’s showed thus far. Ripples roll across your soft stomach and thighs, and your breasts bounce wildly, but you’re too far gone to pay them any mind. 

“They went to R-roppongi!” You manage, and before he can torment you, add, “it was just—third-grade curses.” 

Even now, as he fucks you hard and fast, he doesn’t pull out much, and instead focuses on stroking your all of your sensitive areas relentlessly. It’s so different from what you’re used to, and so, so much better. You don’t know if you’ll be satisfied getting fucked any other way now. 

“And what of Satoru Gojo?” he grunts when you squeeze him particularly hard.

“A meeting–he had a meeting,” you breathe heavily, trying to catch your breath. The pause must displease Kenjaku, because he slaps your wet clit with the buzzing toy, making you jerk beneath him. 

“Wednesday!” you yell. “The Higher uh-” you’re cut off with a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue, agitating your bloody lip. 

“No need to shout, I’m right here,” he says cheekily, and grips your jaw, demanding your attention. “I’m sure you’re eager for your reward.” You nod the best you can.

A large palm spans your lower belly, pressing the plump flesh down to meet his upward thrusts. It feels like you’re even fuller, even more sensitive; your eyes bulge when a deep pressure builds. 

“Can you feel it?” His eyes look wild, more unhinged than before, and it makes you squeeze him in apprehension. “How large this cock is—incredible, isn’t it?” 

If you weren’t on the verge of exploding, the way he marvels at his own dick would make you roll your eyes. 

“Hmm?” He pulls all the way out for the first time, and sharply thrusts back in, meanly stabbing your deepest, most tender area.

“Yes, yes—I feel it!” He repeats the motion, aiming higher. “It feels so fucking good!”

He chuckles and ups the vibrator’s setting, rocking into you faster. All you can do is hold on to him, your mind too scattered and pliant for anything more. With each powerful thrust, he hits the spot near your cervix, causing your pussy to clench around him and draw melodic sounds. You force your eyes to stay open, fully aware that this is a sight you’ll never forget. His disheveled hair clung to his sweaty skin, with most of the strands of his top knot undone. Pink tinges his cheeks, and his brows crease ever so slightly. The sight causes a sudden leap of pleasure, and you feel yourself dancing at the edge.

“Are you ready to come?” He asks, as if sensing the sudden development.

“Oh, god yes!”

A smile is the only warning you're given before he withdraws the vibrator again. The cruelty almost makes you cry. Before you can plead, he pushes the hood of your clit back and the vibrator returns.

“Then come.”

Everything you held onto breaks as you come, abdomen convulsing deeply, and mouth wide open. You soar so high you forget he’s with you for a moment. Your pussy gushes, and clenches him so hard it feels like it’s trying to push his cock out along with your release. The euphoric sensations quickly become a sting as the vibrator doesn’t falter, and you claw at his back and wail.

With a click, he turns off the toy as he tosses it aside, and traps you in his arms with his head nestled in the junction of your neck and shoulder. Teeth sink into the flesh hard enough to draw blood and a shout. Only four pumps more and he fills you as deep as he can reach, as if his cum seeps directly into your womb.

He lies on you for several moments, his cock softening and twitching occasionally. It’s pleasant, and oddly domestic, feeling skin against your own and listening to the sounds of each other’s breathing. Eventually, he slides free, and you’re reminded that he came inside you when it trickles down your ass. 

“I’m not on birth control, you know.” You eye him as he flops next to you, making himself comfortable, as if this is his bed and you’re the guest. “Unless you want some kid of yours running around, you owe me a Plan B.”

He shrugs.

“Makes no difference to me. It wouldn’t be my first child or my last.” 

“Ha, right,” you stretch your legs, sore from being bent for so long. After a pause, you turn to him again.

“Wait, really?”

[osleeplessflowero]

Oneshot Masterpost

A collection of my oneshots! Series gradually being updated. These links are specific to Tumblr, BUT I have also posted quite a few of these on my Ao3! I also have fics on there, which I will also be making a masterpost for + uploading the chapters to tumblr.

🏡Neighborhood Series🏡

A series of randomized oneshots that take place in the same universe, a timeline where the skeleton duos all live in their own houses in a singular neighborhood.

In order(with links attached):

{Lore Related v}

🌠Stargazing (Classic Sans! First oneshot I wrote.)🔭

✨Back To You (Also Classic Sans, takes place a little bit after the former.)💤

🎸Concert Night (Fell!Sans)🎵

{Out Of Order/Bonus Content v}

🏍Stress Relief (Fell/Red! I need to write him again..)💢

📻Close (Blue/Reader) [I don't really like this one that much anymore but I'll keep it up for any that do]🎵

🏖Beach Day (Swap Bros!)🌊

☕️Relax. (Fell Papyrus/Edge!)❄️

🌃Late Night Walk (Rus/Reader)🛹

🪓Scare Actor!Horror🎃

A series mainly themed for Halloween where Reader has a chance encounter with Horror while going to a Haunted House with their partner. Takes place in a Post-Pacifist Horrortale timeline, so Horror goes by Sans.

Part 1: Scares and a Sudden Friendship🎃🪓

Part 2: Coffee Hangout☕

Part 3: New Experiences // Meeting Papyrus!🥄

📖Fairytale Series🪄

A series of miscellaneous fairytale-based scenarios featuring your favorite skeletons. Some may have connections to others!

🗡️Assassin!Red/Mage!Reader🪄

⚔️Knight!Blue/Reader🎶

👑King!Nightmare/Ruler!Reader(Start of a Bad Sanses series)💢

🌹King!Dream/Ruler!Reader (An alternate timeline to the former concept)🪄

🤠Cowboy!Stretch🐎

An AU where Stretch and Blue live on a ranch and work as cowboys. The other skeletons ARE present in other areas, but this mainly just focuses on Stretch and his growing relationship with Reader. Could be considered Farmtale inspired.

🥃Part 1: howdy.🍯

🐴Part 2: Going for a ride🏇

💚Nightmare/Multiverse Traveler!Reader✨

An endless(?) game of Cat and Mouse, where Nightmare chases Reader across the Multiverse in order to finally be with them. Mutual pining, we love to see it!!

🎭Part 1: Chasing🌌

🌺Part 2: Blooms. (Angst)🥀

🖤Bad Sanses Shenanigans🔪

A collection of scenarios with everybody's favorite villains.

🎃Pumpkin Carving! (was originally a part of a now cancelled Halloween writing challenge series.)🔪

☃️Snow Day! (Christmas Special)🌨

🛌Sleepover!💕

🛝i'm here. (Dust Comfort)💜

🔪"Knife" To Meet'cha (Killer/Reader #1)🍻

🌹Falling For Ya (Killer/Reader #2(?) ) 🌃

🔒Cornered (Dust/Reader) (Kinda steamy)💜

��Alone With You (Dust/Reader)💕

AmalgaMATE

A scenario where Reader is an amalgamate of several different Reader souls, and is hopelessly in love with Science/Classic? Sans.

🧪Part 1: me and the amalgamate i pulled by being a punny guy 🔒

🤍Part 2: Soulmates?!🤍

Standalone Oneshots

Oneshots that haven't been made into series yet/are intended to be by themselves.

☔️Chance Encounter (Dream/Reader)🚍

🎶Dream/Fem Reader (Requested)🌳

💌Messages + Confessions (Error/Reader)📄

🛍First Meeting (Fell Papyrus/Edge!/Fem Reader)🐾 (Requested)

🫧Into The Sea (Merman!Blue/Reader)🌊

☕Home (Cross/Reader)🏠 (Requested)

Star Sanses HQ Shenanigans(Star Sanses & Reader [Platonic]) (Requested)

Flirting With Death (Reaper/Immune!Reader) (Requested)

🎡Carnival Date (Classic!Papyrus/Reader) (Requested)🧣

😱Frightening New Friend (Horror!Papyrus & Reader)🎃 [Halloween Special]

🌊A Light In The Depths (Mer!Nightmare/Reader)🤿

😳Crushing (Cross x Swap Universe!Reader) (Requested)💜

🛞Immune (Siren!Nightmare/Reader)⛵

🩹(Platonic)Fell Sans & Reader Hurt/Comfort (Requested)❤️‍🩹

🌑Bittersweet (Flirty Vampire!Nightmare x Vampire Hunter!Reader)🗡️

My oneshot requests ARE OPEN if you would like to submit one, you can check out my rules post here! (You can send requests via Ask(Preferred) or here in the comments if you'd like.) Happy reading!

[shirakiarts]

NIGHTFALL HYMN

Murder Drones Future AU

So far 5/10 of the main cast & batch 1 has been debuted!

💜 Uzi Doorman

The one who rebuilt Copper-9 after “CYN” tried to destroy the planet 🪐

After the development, Uzi renamed the planet “Neo Copper-9”

💛 Nolan Doorman aka N

Became an instructor to teach fellow worker drones to fly! Along with that he became an air force leader for the WDF.

💛 Veronica aka V

Uzi appointed V as the General of WDF, a bit scary for the fellow workers but gets them into shape to defend the new colony!

🩷 Lizzy

The popular girlie makes it to the team, giving herself a job as The chancellor for Neo Copper University.

💚 Thad

The charismatic football player gives his friendly aura to those around him. He often makes everyone feel welcomed and comfortable!

Character up next is 🩵 Eliose ! My murder drones persona

For instant updates follow my twitter: https://twitter.com/eliosearts

I’ll only update here time to time 🙏

[the-ideal-iplier]

🎨 ~Make Your Mark~ 🎨

Welcome to the official The Ideal Iplier Community Art Event!

To mark the special occasion of the game being 50% complete, as well just as a special thank you to all the fans that has followed and supported the game since 2018, I’m hosting a community art event!

This art event has been planned for a long long time, the plan was to always do it after 80% completion of Dr. Iplier’s second date. School and work however pushed production back heavily in the last year. But now with full certainty Dr. Iplier, Tim and Sam are now ready to see your artworks!

The art event is for everyone! You don’t even have to be super talented in art to enter, Dr. Iplier’s second date is all about embracing your inner creativity. Having full confidence and passion in what you create is something he always strives for. Not only that but he loves to admire the hard work of others knowing they put as much effort into it as well, for in every art piece you are giving a part of you to it 💚

His second date features in itself an art event which is why I thought it was perfect to do this for the game’s followers. The art event is “superhero” themed, as in heroes, villains, antiheroes. But even so in the game it can be taken literal (Silver Shepard, JackieboyMan) or symbolic (Darkiplier, Actor Mark, Wilford, etc.). So your goal is to come up with a theme using the umbrella term of the superhero world, and the egos!

What we’re looking for is most notably Markiplier Egos because this is a Markiplier Ego game, but I will allow egos such as Jacksepticeye Egos and Ethan Egos (Mad Mike for example since he was in the first reveal with A Date With Markiplier series where Dark was in) as well if they are closely correlated to Mark’s world in the egoverse.

The art can be anything you think of! Grab your favorite ego and let the brush flow!

But that’s not all! There will also be a competition hosted in the midst of all this too!

Regardless, your art piece will go in the game, that’s right, it’s a definite automatic in while the event takes hold. But the top three winners will also receive a special cameo of themselves/their sonas in the game!

The winners of the contest will also receive the full collection of Mark Ego V-Day pins and charms in a little gift basket sent to them! This is open to international people as well! No cost necessary, just the comfortability of providing your shipping address if you win 🥰

The deadline to submit your artworks for the competition is Oct 27th! This is Dr. Iplier’s birthday so it made sense to me for us to celebrate this way :) Competition winners will be announced at 11:59 PST that night as well! The deadline to include your art in game for the event is Nov 9th! Exactly one month from now 😊 Please come prepared with refs of yourself/your sona if you are one of the winners :3 Make sure you have your DMs open as well so I can contact you about further information.

That is all! Thank you so so very much for all these wonderful years so far. The game still has a long way to go from being complete, but we are making headway towards the finish line 💙

If anyone has any further questions, do not hesitate to comment under this post or dm/@ us directly 😊

Good luck to everyone! And most importantly have FUN!

[bokutosbabe]

hey! could you do jouno hcs please?

AHHHH ABSOLUTELY. ty for the ask!!

Jouno Saigiku x Reader Headcanons!

a/n— sadistic characters make my brain go brrrr

content— jouno calls reader ‘darling’, possessive bf jouno, gets kinda deep for no reason in the casual hcs, jouno is a meanie, mirror sex, jealous sex, temperature play, incorrect use of ice and wax, p in v, slight voyeurism(?), markings, and i think that’s it! lmk if i missed anything!!

synopsis— cute little headcanons with jouno in the sections of casual, relationship, and nsfw!!

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

casual headcanons

fear of heights. up high in the air is the one space where he can’t hear much besides the wind and smells everything that wafts his way; he just feels vulnerable while up high.

cooking master. when you have to deal with tecchou and his disgusting mixtures all day, you’d want to make yourself some homemade comfort food too

can play the piano like a GOD. it was one of his many passions before he lost his sight, and even afterwards he never stopped.

secretly loves being around the other hunting dogs. when he’s alone he can’t see or hear.

^^^he gets scared of being trapped inside his own mind due to this

he dreams of having a world where everyone can exist in peace with the hunting dogs protecting the city

was an only child

loves listening to teruko and tachiharas banter because he never got to experience something close to siblings fighting before

can speak at least two languages but no more than four

very much an early bird

amazing chess player, literally so strategic *cue mastermind by taylor swift*

likes bitter tastes more than awfully sweet tastes

loves puzzles, he just enjoys feeling around and using his intellectual skills and heightened senses to put them together

likes loud rock music more than what others assume he would like(he actually hates classical music. he finds it boring.)

runs hot like a damn oven

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

relationship headcanons

meanie!!!!

jouno is literally as if satan made a special person to just make your life as difficult as possible.

jouno loves you because of your mind

you’re just as charismatic as he is and he enjoys how you two can just communicate without words. him with your heart rate and breathing pattern and you with his facial and body movements 🫶🏼

even if he’s a meanie , jouno still enjoys coming home and cuddling with you

will he initiate it?

absolutely not.

until he was in a relationship with you, jouno never realized how much he enjoyed another persons touch

jouno will make your life with him a living hell though, make no mistake

like i said; he runs hot and makes it everyone’s problem

you two can simply be laying in bed like normal civilized people, but if you mention you’re hot? he’s grabbing your waist pulling you closer to your furnace of a boyfriend.

“ get off of me! ”

“ you don’t wanna cuddle with me, darling? ”

jouno isn’t someone who will talk about your relationship at work or with anyone he’s not comfortable with

so when he first tells tecchou about you? he shocks himself

he definitely accidentally told you he loved you first

“ yeah, yeah. love you too. ” he’d said after you called him annoying

or something like that

your meanie boyfriend just loves you so much🫶🏼

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

nsfw headcanons

like i said guys; jouno is M-E-A-N

man is a grade 1 tease

literally a power top!!

he loves just hearing your heartbeat pick up when he’s fucking you🫶🏼

and the sounds? man could bust just off of them.

like i said; he runs hot, so temperature play is one of his favorite things

he loves hearing your gasps when he pours hot wax on your body, always careful not to hurt you

he absolutely is obsessed with your whines when he runs ice around your tits, making your cute little nipples hard🫶🏼

you think you can make him jealous and he wouldn’t teach you a lesson? tough luck.

you could just be talking to tecchou or tachihara, but if he hears your heartbeat pick up or hear the slightest change in your tone? be ready to not walk for weeks

he’ll take you home and make sure you know who you belong to

MIRROR SEX🙏🙏

obviously he can’t see, but sometimes if you’re bad enough, he’ll make you describe what you look like to him– and if you stutter? he’ll slow down until you’re begging for him to hurry up and ruin you

he would never ever share you with anyone. you’re his and he’s yours

he’s definitely more of a receiver of head more than a giver, he just loves hearing your cute little moans while you’re choking on his cock🫶🏼

will make you play with yourself in front of him if you’ve been just a little too naughty

if he’s on an away mission he’ll call you and will jerk off to the sound of your voice

loves marking you with hickeys

your neck, thighs, and tummy covered every time after he fucks you.

jouno just needs everyone to know that he owns you❤️

he makes me giggle, sorry if these aren’t great i rushed them just a bit!!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!! thank you sm for this ask!

[readychilledwine]

Monster Fucking

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

First things first, we do not yuck someone else's yum on this blog. If you are not interested in this, please scroll or check out "A Hint of Corruption" if you are in need of some Tamlin smut.

Monster fucking, or Teratophilia, is the sexual attraction to monsters, aliens, ect. In a lot of cases, the monsters are sentient beings, but not always. Monster fucking is a little controversial in the kink community with some arguing that it is a paraphilia instead of a kink and vice versa.

It has become popular in the past few years for a few reasons, but the biggest is linked to escapism and fantasy role play. Our dearest Tumblr is actually attributed to the increased interest in monster erotica as well. Most monster fucking fics tend to center around a female main with a male presenting monster, or non gender confirming monsters using tentacles. Monsters sometimes are human looking (looking at the fae with a side eye,) or there's some people who are straight up into dragons.

Teratophilia has actually become so popular in kink/taboo sex culture that it isn't uncommon to find websites selling sex toys based on monsters, the most popular being Bad Dragon. You can also find authors and artists who only write monster fucking fics such as Charlotte Swan.

Again, we do not yuck someone else's yum here. Please scroll on if you are not interested in today Bingo spot. We have a whole month of smut, I promise there will be something else for you 💚

Also a general PSA... If you are "grossed out" by this and using the excuse of it being monsterfucking, but you enjoy wingplay fics involving the batboys, Omegeverse fics, tentacle fics, Ithan shifting or Therion shifting smut fics. Your issue may not be monster fucking. It might actually be who the monster in this fic is. I said what I said. 👉👈

💕 Peep the Valentines Day list here💕

And, as always, NSFW below the cut

Tamlin x Rhysand's sister Reader

Warnings - wing play, p in v, beast form Tamlin, oral (female receiving), borders on definement/corruption kink territory

A/N - we all know I enjoy the Tamlin x Rhysand's sister or Rhysand x Tamlin's Sister thing. So I wanted to give you all both for this.

You flinched as your back hit the ground, a massive paw almost crushing your chest as claws spanned both sides of your neck.

“Tam,” you hated how afraid you sounded. Years ago, there was an ounce of fear in your body for him. “Tamlin, please. I was just sent to check in.”

Green eyes met yours as he growled. He hardly seemed fae anymore.

A beast more than a make, Rhys had warned you.

You should have listened to your brother better.

“Tamlin,” you whispered again. Your hands went to his muzzle. “Tam, please. It's me.”

His growl was almost a mix of a purr. You watched as he shuttered, shifting before you, but still held you down in his fae form.

“Sending you is low,” Tamlin growled, hand tightening around your neck. “Even for your piece of shit brother.”

You knew better than to argue with him regarding his feelings on Rhysand. Just like you knew better than to argue with Rhys about Tamlin.

You stared up at him, eyes watering in fear as his grip didn't soften. You had known the day the bond snapped between you and Tamlin that he would be the death of you, and if it was at his hands you died, that was a peace you could live with.

Your hand moved from his to up his arm, down his chest, then rested on top of his heart. Feeling it beating there, no longer a mess of stone and curses. It matched your own. Echoing through your head day and night. “If I am to die at your hands right now, just know I still love you.”

Tamlin buried his head into your neck, wrapping you in his scent like a comforting blanket. “Question, my dearest Y/n.” You ran your hands to his shoulders, holding him tight against you. You nodded for him to ask. “Why is it that whenever I tackle you in my beast form, you become aroused?”

You froze instantly looking at the sky to think of a good lie. You couldn't find one. Choosing to instead look Tamlin in the eyes and utter a sentence you had only ever admitted to yourself. “I've just always wondered what it would be like to, you know..”

Tamlin smirked at you. “I am afraid I don't know, moon flower. Care to explain?” Flush began to cover your sunkissed cheeks as you looked away from him. “Y/n, do you want me to fuck you as my beast?”

Hearing the question out loud had heat pooling between your legs, a coil tightening already as you laid below him.

It was taboo.

It was dirty.

It was something you'd never even be able to speak of to anyone.

But, Mother, the idea of Tamlin locking you in place with his claws as he fucked you from behind had you melting. “Yes,” it was a breathless confession. He growled above you, quickly forcing you to kiss him.

There were no emotions on the kiss from his end besides raw need. It was a mess of teeth and spit mixing all together.

Tamlin didn't waste a second. He shifted his hands to claws, the sharp rip of fabric echoing through the air as the torn shreds of your dress were thrown aside.

He began to kiss down your body, an occasion poke of what you assumed was a fang scraping the tender flesh of your breasts and stomach.

It was then that the male was gone, replaced by fur and horns and lowering his now massive body to the ground as a cold wet nose ran along your core.

“Mother fuck!” Your back arched as the cold against your heat had you in a pleasurable state of shock.

Tamlin began lapping at your core, a large paw coming across your hips to hold you down as you began wiggling away from the intensity of it. You wanted this, he projected into your mind. Stay still or I'll stop.

You whined begging him to continue by settling down. One of your hands went to his ear, scratching softly at it and tugging the fur there every so often. You gasped pulling hard as he pushed his tongue into you, stretching your walls. His nose nuzzled your clit at the same time leaving to breathless. He slowly began fucking you like that, tasting you completely. You couldn't think of anything but Tamlin. Of the years wasted pretending to hate each other. Of years you two were forced to ignore each other for Rhysand's comfort.

He'd kill you if he ever found out you had literally sullied yourself with a beast.

Regardless of that beast being your mate in a shifted.

Your hand began to lazily scratch his ear again as he brought you wave after Wave of pleasure, mind going numb to anything but that as you focused. He began to purr, tongue vibrating inside of you from the noise. You cried out, back arching again. He chuckled into your mind, increasing his speed, pushing further in with that inhuman tongue. “Tam,” you panted out. “Gods, please don't stop. Please. So fucking close.” You were walking that edge, the coiling so tight inside of you that you feared It wouldn't be a gentle slip from the peak, but a shove face first into the wind.

You felt your magic dropping, wings appearing on your back and splayed below you just twitching in anticipation. You don't know how, but he managed to curl his tongue, hitting a spot so deep inside of you that you would have never found it after centuries of self exploration. The scream that tore through you had the trees shaking, a storm crackling with lightning in the distance. His name was all you could remember as you sang for him, prayed to him.

You hardly had a chance to process what had happened when he forced you on your stomach and for your back to arch for him. A paw landed on the top of your back, holding you down and forcing your wings wide for him. His tongue ran the hard ridge of your left one, causing a full body shudder to go through you and your eyes to roll back. He repeated the motion on the right side, growling as he did.

You could have came from that alone.

Had the sudden brush of a cock much too large for your body interrupted ever thought of pleasure you had. Relax, he cooed to you. Be a good girl and relax.

Vines came and trapped your wrists above you, then your calves to your thighs, pulling them wider apart.

You were completely helpless to him. Spread open and bare, cunt glistening in the light. Tamlin growled, rubbing himself against you again, rutting over and over to soak in himself in your juices.

The slow realization of what you got yourself into fell into your mind and you did the best you could to obey and relax as the head lined up with your entrance. Breathe, he commanded, pushing in as you did.

It knocked all the air from your body, a pained whimper becoming all you could do to communicate. He began licking your wings again, watching as the pain and pleasure mixed through your body. He switched to licking the soft membrane, male pride swelling as you pushed back against him moaning his name and fucking yourself on to him.

Each little movement of your body had him sinking deeper and deeper. He knew there was no way in hell you would be able to take all of him, but Mother watching you subconsciously try, watching you whimper and writhe below him had all instinct falling to his beast.

He began thrusting in time with your movements, tongue still dancing on your wings in a practiced motion. Licking them like it had not been years since he'd gotten to lay with you in his other form.

He knew your body like the back of his hand still, and the fae part of him kept reminding himself of that.

This wasn't some random female from the Rite below him.

This was his mate.

Regardless of how he wanted to push further in, to fuck you like a bitch in heat, he couldn't.

The pace he had set was magic for you as your body still stretched for him. The burn had subsided enough that pleasure was shooting from ever nerve, begging for more and more.

You were going to finish to fast, but the slick constantly building and increasing had him deeper and deeper, inching you closer and closer to the Base of him.

You felt like you could no longer breathe. All the room in your body had been replaced with Tamlin and Tamlin only.

A miss timing from both of you had you screaming again, whining as pain mixed with absolute bliss all while shock hit you from his side of the bond.

You had managed to fuck yourself down to his knot, and now there was no saving you from the monster every fae had lurking in their skin.

He began slamming into you at a brutal pace, watching as you became a mess panting his name. He couldn't help but to growl, mouth forgetting about your wings and going to the pulse point of your neck.

It smelled so distinctly you. Vanilla musk and orchids mixed with sex and lust.

He felt your walls twitching around him over and over, listened as your cries became more desperate Until you were begging, pleading for release.

He was right on the edge as well, the fae side of him stroking the bond to let you know.

That Single wave of his pleasure, of his pride, of his need set you over, walls squeezing him so tightly he thought you would break. You sent him everything back, letting him feel the electricity shooting through you, and he came soon after.

It felt like wave after wave of cum was emptied into you, filling you much too full until he pulled out and some was allowed to leak from your aching core.

The vines slipped away, allowing you to fall. A soft hand replaced that paw, warm lips caressing the shell of your ear as praise after praise spilled from them. “Did so good baby, so fucking good. You looked so beautiful like that.”

Tamlin fell beside you, snapping clothes onto Both of you, a scent shield going up as a sound shield fell. “Your brother is here to collect you.”

You didn't remember anything after that. Mind falling to darkness as a wave of Tamlin's magic put you to sleep.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy

[poetryvampire]

✨A Healing Touch ✨

Summery: You and a few fellow druids join with the teifling refugees as they make their way to the Emerald Grove. Zevlor has fallen for you completely but will he ever be able to overcome his anxieties and accept the love you have to offer him?

Pairing: Zevlor x Fem! Reader/Tav

Words: 3,886

Contents: druid! reader/tav, mutual pining, self-esteem issues, angst, hurt/comfort, age gap, nsft, making out, masturbation, p in v sex, cunnilingus, premature ejaculation

Notes: I wrote some angsty headcanons for Zevlor dealing with is feeling for reader (original Here). I wanted to add to it and make it more explicit. There will be an least another chapter. You can read on a03 Here or below! 💚

 It would have been a lie to say that you hadn’t been on Zelvor’s mind from the moment of your meeting. As much as he hated to admit it, it had been seared thoroughly into his mind. 

 He remembered his apprehension at the idea of accepting your small party of land druids to join his group of refugees.The hours of talk with your Archdruid- a stern but sensible elf- lead to a peaceful agreement. She talked of her handful of druids being forced to flee their forest from hostel creatures and now sought a new home. Zevlor had planned to lead his people to the Emerald Grove to settle at least temporarily. It only made sense to join forces.

What eased his mind most was the diversity of your party; four elves, two tieflings and a human. It was an odd grouping to say the least, but genuine. Friends of his kind were friends of his. Plus Zevlor hoped that being in the company of elves may help their chances at the Grove. That evening, once the negotiating was said and done the commander did his usual walk through the camp, taking care to note the new faces. He had one remaining elf and the human still to meet. 

Then he saw you. A human woman, sprawled in the grass, laughing with your elven friend. Your antics had left you trying to adjust the flowers that had been braided into your hair. Your smile struck him; it was so warm and joyous. He was gripped with the sudden urge to have it turned on him. As if you had read his mind your bright eyes snapped to him. Smile ever on your lips you rose and made your way straight to him. Zavlor’s heart skipped a beat. You were a vision, one that could be easily mistaken for a  fairy maiden from a romantic tale of old. 

 To Zevlor’s surprise you bowed to him offering many thanks for his kindness in taking you in. He attempted to wave away such words, truly it was hardly a sacrifice. But you insisted that you would work hard to do anything you could to help. Your noble worlds and closeness of your beauty sparked something in Zevlor he thought long dead. Something akin to a boyish crush hit him like a hoof. He stumbled his way through a response, too taken by the warm light of the campfire dancing with the flowers in your hair. 

 That was to be the first of many interactions the tiefling would play over in his head endlessly. Your presence did wonders to slow his thoughts and make himself act a clown. It had been easy to dismiss at first. It was simply nature at play. You were young and gorgeous, a common bane to reason and sensibility. Zevlor marked the undeniable tension your presence brought as a passing interest he would soon forget about entirely. This was not the case. 

 As the weeks went by and your travels pressed on, your place in Zevlor’s mind only grew. Instantly you became an active member of the camp, ready to lend a hand to anyone. Without fail you always greeted him with a smile and a kind word, a simple action that Zevlor found himself looking forward to. Just as he would look forward to your daily conversations, the way they turned from awkward to easy. How they’d grown to be hours in length and moved over meals, cups of tea, long walks in the woods. In any form they were unquestionably the best part of his day. 

 Settling in the Emerald Grove was chaotic to say the very least. The tiefling commander was painfully aware of how precarious their new lodgings were. As he had predicted the accompaniment of the fellow druids had helped their case for their settlement. Though there are many among them ready to throw the tieflings away without a second thought. Another correct prediction, the druids of the Grove had offered permanent placement among them to all of your circle but the tiefling druids. The offer was hastily turned down to Zelvor’s great surprise. Your loyalty and care for your companions regardless of race moved him deeply. Plus,he thanked the Gods for you still being a part of his life.   

 As much as he had tried there was no longer any point of denying it. He was going half mad with yearning for you. Day and night he was consumed with visions of your beauty; from simple dreams of your perfect lips to impressions of how your face might contort in pleasure underneath him. It had been almost decades since the commander had felt such strong emotion for anyone. Your young, vivacious spirit was contagious and had rekindled things long forgotten in Zevlor’s soul. He was suddenly aware just how long it had been since he had felt the warmth of another’s skin on his. It was a craving growing stronger in him by the day. 

 In his Hellrider days he had seen and participated in his share of lustful adventures. He was no stranger to such things nor would he call himself a prude.That version of Zevlor felt a lifetime away. He had lost everything since then, his confidence included. In his mind there was no chance a creature as lovely as you would ever have eyes for someone as loathsome as him. It made his desire for you feel even more despicable. 

 Shame weighed heavy in his chest when he caught his eyes lingering on you. In typical druid fashion you weren’t shy about your body. You didn’t have a second thought about hiking up your skirt to climb through bushes to collect berries, or how you licked their juices from your fingers as you brought back a basket full. Zevlor hated himself for the lewd thoughts that plagued him. 

 Many sleepless nights had passed before he gave in. Before he pushed his tangled blankets off in the darkness and finally brought his hand to his painfully hard cock. Swiping his thumb across his soaked head, he conjured the image of you earlier that day. You had taken your time serving him tea, leaning across the table before him. With a lower cut dress then normal you went about your actions not noticing- or caring- for the full view of your cleavage you gave him. Zevlor bucked his hips frantically into his hand. He would have pulled you into his lap right then if he could; would have ripped your dress away and lavished every inch of neck and chest with his mouth. It only took the vision of Zevlor’s hands on your hips as he guided you down on to his manhood to push him over the edge.        

  He scolded himself for the old pervert that he was, hating the idea that he was using you for his wanton desires. Yet, the commander half wished those were the only feelings he held for you. To imagine his life without your friendship seemed too much to bear. Had the both of you not been stuck in such a stressful situation Zevlor would have courted you properly, as you deserved. But for the time being he was determined to keep his emotions to himself.               

                                                            -   

  Once again Zevlor found himself at your side. After running into each other time and time again in the surrounding forest you began planning outings together. He shared your love for the quiet peace of nature. As the tiefling sat in the grass writing in his journal you were perched on a rock trying to sketch the landscape. 

“I feel like a person could go mad staring at anything for too long.” you huffed, breaking the silence.

Zevlor snapped back to himself, his mind having been deep in thought over the tension with the druids of the Grove. Had he been staring? 

“Your muse isn’t speaking to you today then?” He smiled. Even when frustrated you were breathtaking.    

 “I suppose not. They’ve been a terrible tease lately.” 

 “How boarish.” Zevlor sighed, closing his book. “If you like I could knock some sense into them.”             

 You mock a gasp and press the back of your hand to your forehead. 

 “Would you defend me so, my brave paladin?”

“I would like nothing more, my lovely druid.” the words left him before he could stop himself. Perhaps that was a slight overstep. 

 Your eyes met his and held his gaze, a warm smile ever present on your lips. With the greenery of the woods around you, you seem the very model of enchantment. How could Zevlor even consider courting you when you deserved so much better. His hands tightened around his journal wherein he had penned several poems professing his devotion to you. He would never let you see them but his heart had always held a soft spot of the genre. It was a captivating means of embodying the truest forms of beauty and raw emotion. It was perfectly suited for you. 

 Zevlor lowered his eyes first, clearing his throat and flipping through his book. He pretended to look for something all the while feeling your eyes still on him.There were times he could have sworn that your eyes held something akin to -no he couldn’t think that. He pushed it from his head. Holding on to false hope would only make things more painful. 

 You stand and hold your sketchbook out in front of you, eyes darting between it and the land itself. 

 “Something just seems off.” You move back and forth trying to find just the right angle. “Zevlor, could you come here?” 

“Of course,” he stood to join you and to his great surprise you lightly placed your hands on his shoulders to adjust his position. 

“Right, so now,” you turned and held out your book once more. “You see how you can tell the natural depth of the trees? I feel like I’ve mucked up the shading somehow. Mine just looks all stacked over each other. What do you think?” 

Zevlor moved slightly forward, careful not to actually touch you, his head hovered just over your shoulder. He squinted, moving his eyes from the scenery to your sketch. As always he was impressed with your work and could make out no significant difference between the two. 

 “I may not have the skill to offer much help, to me the likeness is impeccable.” Zevlor turned his gaze to you and was suddenly hit with an intoxicating scent. Something fresh and sweet as an orange blossom filled his lungs. Had he never noticed or was this the closest he’d ever stood to you? He watched your lips- your full, perfectly shaped lips- curve into a smile. 

 “You’re too kind. I should probably leave it  for now. I’ve been staring so long my eyes are beginning-” Abruptly, you turned and lost your words. Your faces were no more than an inch apart.    

Zevlor froze, his eyes darting from yours to your still parted mouth. The paladin’s mind screamed at him to back away but his body was rooted in place. You let out a shaking breath before you closed the space between you and pressed your lips to his. A wave of shock snapped through Zevlor like a bolt of lightning. He had barely processed what was happening as he felt your hands press against his broad chest. How had he fallen into a dream without even realizing?

 Ever so slightly you pulled back to search Zevlor’s face with wide eyes. He cannot make sense of all the thoughts racing through his mind. Dream or not he can’t stomach the loss of contact. Curling his hand around the back of your neck he takes your lips hungrily with deep frantic kisses. You surrender to him happily as you fully part your lips welcoming him in. You both can’t help but moan at the taste of each other.    

  Tongues dancing, heads dizzy, Zevlor barely noticed he was moving until he had you pushed against a tree. He could barely think of anything apart from the warmth of your mouth. His body now fully pressed to you, he was half expecting for you to push him away. Again to his surprise your arms locked about him, your hands grabbing his armor as if to keep him as close as possible. Despite his blood running heavy with desire he kept his hands in place; one tangled in your hair, the other pressed firmly on your waist. 

The clash of metal on metal shot through the trees. Zevlor broke away from your embrace, mind snapping to action in case he had to defend you. Luckily the sound of multiple footsteps was followed by some familiar voices. 

“Those are brand new! Could you try being careful?” said one. 

“I am!” another answered. “I’d like to see you lift this much.” 

 It seemed their friends that had set off to barter down at the market had some success. Their voices echoed through the quiet woods as the party broke into two. One headed to the Grove the others settled in the grass not too far away.

“They’re back already?” the woe in your voice was apparent.  

  Zevlor casted his eyes away from your blushing faces. His senses were coming back to him and he was shocked by the brashness of his actions. The shame was drowned in an instant as your hand caressed his cheek, turning him back to you.                   

 “They’ll be looking for me. I promised to meet them and help with supper.” you sighed. “We should get back.” 

Your words though sensible were a knife to the chest. Despite his conflicting emotions he didn’t want the dream to end so quickly. He licked his lips trying to draw words but none would come. Confessions of love and longing thundered in his chest and he didn’t dare to let them out. 

“Zevlor,” his name had never sounded so honeyed. “Come to my tent tonight.” Your words are soft yet earnest. 

Zevlor’s flaming eyes studied you carefully. 

“You…” he speaks lowly. “You want this?” 

“Yes.” you placed a chaste kiss to his cheek. 

                                                               -

The preparations for dinner were a haze. You’d be methodically chopping carrots then suddenly be overcome with laughter. Your fellow cooks blamed it on too much sun, to which you gladly agreed. Being with Zevlor certainly felt as warm as sunlight. Once everything was ready and everyone gathered you sat as far from him as you could. The nerves and excitement tangling into you left you practically trembling. His closeness would only make it worse. That didn’t stop either of you from stealing glances throughout the meal.

Parting early you rushed to get back to your tent. You wanted to take your time bathing and fretting about what to wear, like some high lady. What were you in that moment if not a princess waiting for your valiant knight. Finally you were to be rescued from your aching loneliness and desire for the man that had done so much for you and your people. Painstakingly you smoothed the blankets over your bed roll, a smile on your lips. Zevlor was going to take you here, the very place you had pleasured yourself so many times to the thought of him.    

Night came and you waited nervously pacing the small interior of your tent. After much debate you had chosen to don a plain but revealing night dress. You hoped to make your affection for him very clear. Just as you began to question whether Zevlor would keep his word you heard his low voice break the silence.

 He was more dashing than you had ever seen him; dressed down, out of his armor, in a simple white ruffled shirt and brown trousers. Ever the gentlemen he held out a bouquet of wildflowers to you.    

 Trying your best not to swoon you took them and breathed in their sweetness. 

 “I did not want to be the only one surrounded by beauty tonight.” Zevlor offered. 

“You’re as humble as you are kind,” you smile, placing the flowers in a water jug. “Perhaps even too humble, if I may be so bold.” you move close to him. 

 “You may.” Zevlor breathes. He was awestruck at the sight of you, at the thinness of your gown, at everything you inspire in him. 

  Not wanting to waste another moment with the tiefling you adored, you pulled him into a kiss. As before you could feel passion coursing through him in seconds. His arms were tight around you pressing you to him, drawing a soft gasp for you. You could feel his warmth, his infernal ridges that decorated his chest rubbing against your hardening nipples. Creeping a hand up his shirt you savored the rich texture. Your desire for him stoked his courage as Zavlor explored your mouth with a ferocity you’d only dreamed of. He moved his hungry lips to your neck kissing and licking every inch he could get. 

A loud moan escaped you as he finally sank his teeth into you. Harder than you expected but not enough to draw blood. He sucked the skin, setting every part of you aflame. It was maddening, you were clinging to him but Zevlor had yet to move his hands from where they lay on you back.     

 With clumsy impatience you moved backward, pulling your knight with you down on the bed. Overcome with ever growing need you ripped away your night dress entirely and laid back completely exposed before Zevlor. You pressed your legs together, your wetness pooling as his infernal eyes raked over you. Certainly he would pounce, ravish you, take you as his own any second. To your dismay he pulled away a sudden concern washing over his face. 

 By the Gods Zevlor ached for you. But to see you like this, you were almost too lovely. In soul and in body. How could a fallen paladin like him be worthy of you?

“Zevlor?” you reach for him but still he makes no move.  

 He cursed himself, as always he’s making things worse. There's hurt building in your eyes, as if he could ever be displeased with you. Quelling your fears he lightly stroked your calf and planted a chaste kiss to your knee.

 “You’re perfect.” Zevlor smiled sadly. “You deserve better than an old man like me.”

 You let out a warm laugh. 

"Zevlor," you plead. "Touch me, please. Just look at what you do to me" 

You spread your legs before him, pulling a hungry moan from his throat. Your sex  glistened in the low light, ready for him. He can’t remember the last time he’s been so enchanted or afraid. Lovingly you take his hands in yours and kiss his palms and pressed them to your flesh. Soon they're moving on their own, spreading reverent caresses over every inch of you. His rough fingers toyed with the sensitive buds of your breast ripping a wanton moan from you. 

  Zevlor pressed flush against you, causing you to whimper at the sensation of his hard bulge on your thigh. His mouth is praising you with the fervor of a paladin. Kissing your breasts, your stomach, your thighs. Automatically you opened your legs wider, hoping to spur him on. He takes a moment to admire you, his fingers running over your sex. Ever so gently he spreads your folds and groans at the sight of you fluttering with excitement.  

 His cock was so full, aching for relief but his discomfort was outweighed by his desire to taste you. He dragged his tongue over you painfully slow, methodically working your lips and clit. You were whining and trembling for him in no time, begging for more. There was nothing he could deny you. Zevlor gripped your thighs tight trying to keep you still as he worshiped you with his mouth, lapping you up like a man starved. It was dizzying, you writhed loving how firmly he had you spread, how powerful and thorough his strokes had become.  

 Zevlor breathed you in. You were delicious; nothing short of addicting. He was overwhelmed by it all. How impossibly soft you were, how ardently you moaned his name. No longer able to stop himself he began rutting into the bedroll feverishly. He couldn’t bring himself to pull away from you no matter how badly he was dying to be thrusting into you. 

 “Zevlor-Gods please, please I’m so- I’m so-” your words turn into unintelligible sobs under his ministrations. Before long the heated flicks of his tongue push you over the edge, making your whole body shake, your hips grinding against his mouth. Your pussy’s sudden pulsing and wetness under his tongue was electrifying. White hot pleasure shot through Zevlor, before he could even think to stop himself he came hard groaning against you. 

You fell limp, still panting his name. Zevlor stayed pressed to you lightly tracing your folds. He was mortified, shame bubbling in his gut. Unsure of what to do he slowly pulled away from you and released his grip on your legs. You let out a sharp hiss of pain, making the paladin freeze. His concern turns to horror as he looks you over only to see the fresh red cuts his nails have left on your thighs. You passed your hand over the markings, wincing.

A pained gasp leaves him as he backs away from you. He hadn’t been thinking. How could he have let himself be so foolish, let his infernal nature get the best of him. One of the fears that had driven him away from you for so long had become reality. Somehow he had failed you as a lover by cumming so easily and he had hurt you from lack of care without even having been inside you.                                                                                                                       

“I-I, I didn’t-” He could barely get the words out, a mixture of panic and anguish seizing his heart. 

“Zevlor, it’s-” 

“I’m sorry. I did not mean to act so recklessly.” His words are laced with distress. Zevlor lowers his head, practically bowing before you. “Forgive me. I never meant to hurt you.” 

“Of course,” You reach for him but he stands, stepping away, eyes casted downward. 

“I shouldn’t have come here.” 

“It’s not- ahh- too bad.” you wince again as you stand to follow him.

“This was a mistake.” he shakes his head. “It won’t happen again,” 

 His words pierce you like a cold chill. 

 “What?” Your breath quickens, heat rising to your face. “No. I’m fine, it’s fine. Zevlor, please.” 

 Again you try to touch him but he moves away, eyes still not meeting yours. 

 “No. This-” he gestures between the two of you. “This shouldn’t be. I’m sorry.” 

 Before you can say anything Zevlor marches out of your tent into the night. You call after him, pleading for him to return. A part of you wanted to throw a blanket over yourself and run after him but you didn’t want to risk making a fool of yourself or of him. 

 You let out a cry, suddenly bursting into tears. The emotional whiplash of the day hit you hard. There’s a thousand desperate thoughts running through your mind. Overwhelmed, you curl up on your bed and sob softly into your pillow until sleep takes you.     

Thank you so much for reading <3

[colourstreakgryffin]

The Six Pillars; Masterlist #1~

Welcome to the First Temple~!

The animes I do write for is Demon Slayer, Jujutsu Kaisen, JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Death Note, Haikyuu and Record of Ragnarok~! But I also want to do writing for the current communities and shows I am vested in so I’d love for requests of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss! Don’t have to but that’d be appreciated, any character from those two shows!

I’ll write absolutely any type of concept like angst, drama, romantic love to platonic love, NSFW, fluff, comfort, character x character, character x reader. I’d prefer to stay away from very intense situations like (g)rape, (su)icide, death since I don’t wish to make a mockery of these themes, I am not the best with reader x OC requests and I do not like choosing characters myself nor coming up with the scenario, please do these yourself! It’s your request, not mine! My main work is anime, primarily Demon Slayer but my top right now is Hellaverse

Enough on that now! It’s time for the Masterlist~!I present you my work! Do as you please with this!

|

V

💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

Pillar #1: Demon Slayer ~❤️

Obanai and Kanae: Viper Bugloss (my shitpost)

Akaza and Koyuki: Demon Couple (my scenario)

Pillar #2: Jujutsu Kaisen ~💜

❤️ Ryomen Sukuna: Goopy Parasite

💙 Satoru Gojo: Ketchup and Mayonnaise

💚 Nobara Kugisaki: Black Humour

Pillar #3: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure~💚

—

Pillar #4: Death Note ~💙

💚 Ryuk: Master of Trickery

Pillar #5: Haikyuu ~💛

🖤 Tetsurō Kuroo: Chibi-Chan

🧡 Shoyo Hinata: North and South

💙 Koshi Sugawara: Red Handed

Pillar #6: Record of Ragnarok ~🩷

🖤💙 Hades and Poseidon: Extensive Fallacy

💚 Nikola Tesla: Mental Impairment

💙🧡 Poseidon and Buddha: BonBons

❤️ Qin Shi Huang: My Deadweight

💚 Nikola Tesla: Tesla Paddle

💚❤️🖤 Nikola, Qin Shi and Hades: Hip Belt

💚💛🧡 Heracles, Apollo and Buddha: Tying Ribbon

💙💛🖤 Poseidon, Apollo and Hades: Prickly Bud

💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

Pillar #7: Hellaverse ~🖤

🩷 Angel Dust: Aerial Dancing

💚 Mammon: Greatest Self

💚 Charlotte: Colour Allergy

❤️ Blitzø: Restart and Reload

❤️ Alastor: the Weirdmageddon

❤️ Alastor: Element of Disharmony

💛 Lucifer: Princess and the King

❤️ Blitzø: High-Tell Surprise

❤️💙 Alastor and Vox: Black Foot

🖤 Carmilla Carmine: Bandy-Bandy

🩷 Velvette: Hourly Craze

💙🩷💚 Andrealphus, Stella and Mammon: Ripped-Off

❤️ Alastor: Bamboo Binds

🩷 Niffty: Cinnamon Spice

❤️ Alastor: Abandonment Issues

💙❤️🩷 Vox, Valentino and Velvette: Beep Beep Sheep

🩷 Angel Dust: Little Spiderling

Here is the second temple of this blog’s lengthy Masterlist~ Masterlist #2

[endlessthxxghts]

Need You

Husband!Frankie Morales x wife!afab!reader || W/C: ≈5k

Summary: Tío Santi comes to the rescue when Frankie confides in him about how the two of you have been way too busy for one another.

Warnings: Crazy events of Triple Frontier don't happen; let's just give these guys some happiness. Instead of coke, Frankie’s drug is you (LMAOOO). No “y/n.” No physical descriptions of reader (besides clothing choices), she looks like you😏 and big strong man Frankie can carry you <333. Reader knows a bit of Spanish. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Oral sex (f receiving). Unprotected P in V sex. Slow and sloppy😵‍💫. Breeding kink. Domestic kink (they get really spurred on calling each other husband and wife/esposo y esposa). Possessive kink. Daddy kink (but in the sense that reader just loves seeing Frankie as a Dad and wants to give more babies to parent!!!). Pussy slapping... Cum play/eating. Vaginal fingering/fucking. Squirting. Slight Dom!Frankie (he just really wants to hear his wife beg for his cum!!). Mentions of shower ✨activities✨. A lot of love basically — physically and emotionally. Extra warning for the parents who can’t leave their child with other people — Tío Santi takes their baby out to eat and get treats; she’s in good hands, I promise!!!

A/N: Husband Frankie is rotting my brain bad. Especially girl dad!Frankie. My ovaries are screaming. So here's this little 5k bad boy I whipped up. This is very much a porn with a bit of (yummy domestic) plot. Hope y’all enjoy. Thank you to my sweet sweet bae @javierpena-inatacvest for proof-reading this and hyping me up since it’s my first Frankie story to be posted! I love you so much 🥹🥹💚 (edit: someone had a comment about why Isa is amorcito instead of amorcita, so in case you had that question as well, read my explanation here!)

MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG

“Querida, I’m home!” Frankie called out. 

“In Isa’s room, baby!” you responded. 

Santi tagged along on his treck home today, offering to take Isa out for lunch and sweets after Frankie told him how both of you have been crazy busy lately. He helps himself to the kitchen while Frankie makes his way to you.

Frankie lightly knocks on the door before entering, gasping out in delight to earn a bubbly reaction from his three year old daughter. “Ay, mi esposa (my wife),” he exclaims, giving you a soft kiss to your lips. He looks to his daughter and grabs her from you, “y mi amorcito (and my little love),” he says, throwing her up in the air, coaxing a few more giggles out of her. 

He sets her back down to play with her toys, and Frankie turns to you, pulling you in for a proper hello. Your lips slot against each other in a needy embrace, still as reserved as you two can be with your child in the room. He pulls away first, arms not leaving your waist. “Hi, mama,” he says with an adoring smile. “Hi, honey,” you respond, heart still skipping a few beats as if it’s your first time meeting him. He guides you to outside the doorway, closing Isa’s room ajar, so you both are out of her view.

“Santi’s here,” he tells you. “He offered to, uh, take Isa out to get food and some dessert,” he adds nonchalantly, trying to gauge your reaction. It’s been three years since your baby was born, and still you’re always reluctant to leave her with others. It’s not that you don’t trust the people you leave her with, it’s the fact that if anything were to happen — Gods forbid — you wouldn’t be able to be there, to comfort and protect her. 

Your eyebrow raises in response. He squeezes you tighter into him, ducking closer to your ear. “And I was thinking,” he kisses the sweet spot near your pulse point, “we could take some time for ourselves?” He continues kissing and nipping at your neck, uttering a small please baby as he makes his way back to your lips. 

Little did Frankie know, you didn’t need any convincing at all. You were just about ready to drop her off at your parents as soon as he got home from work today. You don’t tell him though. You like hearing him be a little desperate for you. 

His hand skates lower to your ass, the other hand making its way to cup your front. “It’s been weeks, baby, I need to taste her,” he says, damn near a whine. 

You grab both sides of his face and pull him into a searing kiss. “Go pack her bag,” you whisper as you pull away from his grasp, making your way to Santi to give him the rundown. 

In record time, Frankie packs Isa’s go bag in under five minutes: diapers, extra change of clothes, baby wipes, baby Benadryl, and some of her comfort snacks just in case she’s extra picky today. He picks up his baby, assessing if she needs a diaper change — she’s dry — and heads to the kitchen. “Wanna hang with Tío Santi today, mi amor?”

Her face lights up, and she squeals, “yes, daddy, pleeeeaaase!” 

He chuckles, his heart warming at how much she loves his best friend, his brother. 

He and Isa enter the kitchen to you giving Santi the rundown on her allergies. 

“We exposed her to all the major allergens already and no reactions, except for peanuts — she gets a little red, so just watch out for that. There’ll be Benadryl in her pack just in case.”

Santi gives you a salute, “Sir, yes, sir.” 

You playfully roll your eyes at his antics. “One more thing,” you say as you go to kiss your baby goodbye. “Usually I’d ask if you could send pictures throughout the time you’re gone…” you look at Frankie. 

Santi smirks, knowing where this is headed. 

“But you don’t have to. At least for today,” your face remains composed, but the heat spreading across your cheeks exposes you. 

“Got it. No peanuts,” Santi says, reaching for the bag off Frankie’s shoulder and the keys from his pocket, “and no interruptions,” he winks at you both. “Let me know when you guys are ready for us to come back,” he looks to his beautiful niece in her mother’s arms, peppering her with goodbye kisses. 

“Vamanos (let’s go), mija!” Santi says, prying her out of your arms. Frankie reaches to give her one last kiss on her forehead, and they’re out the door. 

As soon as the front door clicks shut, Frankie is on you in an instant, too riled up to wait until you’re in the bedroom. He needs you badly, and he needs you now. He’s caging you in between his body and the kitchen counter, lips on you like he’ll die tonight if he doesn’t touch you. Your lungs are burning for air, yet you don’t pull away. You can’t. He’s too addicting. Too much time has passed without the pleasure you two bring one another, so you’ll sacrifice one survival need for another. 

Before you know it, his hands are at the base of your ass, lifting you to the kitchen counter, and his lips are dragging down your jaw, your neck, and into your cleavage, nipping every little exposed place your cropped tank allows him. His hands are at the waistband of your sweats, pulling them down as he brings himself to his knees. 

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he takes a deep breath in. His eyes are impossibly darker, demeanor turning animalistic as he feels just your sweats alone and no underwear. He gets a view of your already glistening pussy, and he can’t help the growl that leaves his throat. 

He settles his hands under the globe of your ass and scoots you to the edge, your thighs finding solace on his shoulders. You immediately lean back on your elbows, knowing the moment his mouth is on you, your body will go weak at his touch. 

Without any warning, his tongue licks the entirety of your leaking seam, hands automatically gripping you tighter as the taste of you hits his tongue. The sound that leaves you sends shivers down his spine, his cock painfully hard and leaking in his jeans. He licks you a few more times, letting his drool drip down his tongue and spread all over you, making you a soaking mess of your arousal and his spit. 

Once you’re drenched to his liking, he dives right in, face completely flushed against your sex, sloppily sucking and licking into you, hitting all the right buttons to make you see fucking stars. By his hands or his tongue, he still knows how to steer you in the direction of the most beautiful constellations, even if they are behind your eyelids. 

“Frankie, fuck-!” you yell out, your inhibitions automatically down with the fact that the house is left to the two of you. Frankie’s hips involuntarily buck into nothing at your moans, missing the sounds you always made for him. Ever since Isa was born, both of you made a conscious effort to work on your noise levels — especially you. You were the most vocal he’s ever been with, and fuck if it didn’t make him all the more whipped. He almost forgot what your sounds do to him. Almost. But now that you’ve given him a taste again after so long, he needs more. 

He circles your clit a few times and sucks it, hard. He pulls off with a lewd pop, his dominant hand leaving your ass and making its way to your entrance. You’re such a fucking mess that his two fingers slide right in, giving you the extra push Frankie needed to pull more heavenly moans and whimpers out of you. “Let me hear you, mama,” he says, tongue circling your clit as his fingers work you to the edge. “Sing for me, baby,” and with what little strength you have, you force your head forward to watch his ministrations, and the sight is what sends you falling first. Frankie’s mouth is wrapped around the entirety of you, eyes dark and on yours, his hooked nose rubbing against all the right places while his arm muscles ripple as he fucks his fingers in and out of you. 

“Shit- oh, fuck-” you whine out, your head like a bobble head, too heavy to maintain upright. Frankie curls his fingers just right, and-

 “Oh my God, Francisco, oh my God!” Your hips are bucking into his face, his own strength unable to keep your hips down with how hard your orgasm is hitting you. He lets you ride out your wave on his face, drinking every last drop coming out of you. 

His fingers are out of you now, Frankie immediately cleaning them in his mouth, not wanting to Iet any of your sweet syrup go to waste. Your chest is heaving, eyes clamped shut, and your body is entirely limp. Frankie stands to his full height, and he’s pulling you up to sit up straight, his hands guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. He chuckles a little. “Still with me?” 

Your torso loses its strength momentarily, and you almost fall back. His arms immediately wrap around you, supporting you to maintain your upright position. You laugh at yourself, a blissed out smile gracing your face. He feels his heart flutter, just as strong as when he first met you. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here, you monster,” you lightly laugh, resting your head on him. “God, I love you,” your voice slightly muffled from burrowing yourself into his chest. 

His one hand leaves your back and wraps itself around your jaw, bringing your lips up to his. You can taste yourself on him, and you can already feel another fire being lit deep in your core, your arousal dripping onto the kitchen counter as your lips continue with his. 

You pull away, breathless, ready for more. “Take me to bed, baby.” 

“You sure you’re ready now?” He smirks. 

“Keep teasing, and I won’t let you cum inside of me, big boy.” 

His lips find yours again in a bruising manner, a growl leaves him as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. “Last I checked, you were the one begging for me to fuck my cum so deep inside you that it had no other option but to latch on. If that’s what you want again, baby, all you gotta do is ask.” 

You whimper in response, your spurt of dominance dissipating immediately. 

“That what you want, baby? Come on, tell me. I wanna hear it.” 

Your eyes are glossing over, too pent up with a fertile need to get your brain to come up with any kind of response. His grasp on your jaw tightens, his lips ghosting yours as he talks. “Tell me you want my cum, baby. Tell me you want me to fill you up so fucking full of me.” 

“Yes, baby, fuck, I need you. I need you inside of me, I need you to fill me. Please, you’re such a good daddy, I wanna give you more, please,” you ramble on. His mouth is on you again in a sloppy embrace as he picks you up and guides you two to your bedroom. 

He sets you down at the edge of the bed. He guides your shirt off, then his. He pulls back for a second and shucks his bottoms off, giving you a complete view of his tanned and toned naked body, his little tummy a little soft around the edges. Your pussy is crying at the sight. 

You don’t waste anymore time as you settle yourself to the center of your bed, your legs already falling open with muscle memory. Frankie licks his lips at the sight. Part of him just wants to go down on you again, but the way his cock is screaming at him for release and your pussy is clenching on nothing—yeah, his oral fixation can wait. 

He settles himself in between your legs. His hands are grounded into the pillow beside your head as your legs automatically hook around his waist. He rubs his length across your wetness, you mewl for him as he lets his tip drag across your clit. 

“Baby, please,” you whine. 

“I’ve got you, baby.” 

His tip breaches your entrance. God, you’ve missed him so much, and you tell him exactly that. 

His lips are on yours, never really satiated with the amount of kisses he takes from you, “I fuckin’ missed you so much.” He pushes deeper in. “God, my beautiful wife, I love you so much,” he breathes out as his lips graze your temple. 

His hips are flushed with yours, your hands secure themselves around his neck. “Please, baby, let’s never go this long again, I need you so bad,” he rasps. He’s pulling out again, his head kissing your core. “Need you always,” he says as he pushes back in, maintaining a slow but hard rhythm.

You pull him impossibly closer into you, your hands grasping and feeling him anywhere you can reach. You rock your hips to meet every push and pull of his own, lips ghosting each other with each movement, your eyes threatening to roll back at how entirely full you feel. 

He’s taking his fucking time with you tonight, fucking you slowly into the mattress, harder with each thrust, reveling in sound of your pussy each time he pushes in, and he can’t help the way he smiles into the sloppy kisses and shared breaths. 

You’re a complete mess, tears falling from your eyes at how addicting he feels mixed with the pure love you have for this man. You really don’t even register what you’re babbling about, but that doesn’t matter. Frankie’s in heaven listening to a mixture of your drawn out moans, the occasional Lord’s name in vain, and the repeated I love you, baby, I love you so much.

One of his hands drag down to your clit, rubbing clumsy yet perfect circles, forcing your dam to finally break. He’s completely soaked in you and so are your thighs and the bedsheets. Your fall is slow but all-consuming. Your back arches into him, your nipples rubbing deliciously against his chest, and the feeling is the final push that sends him painting your walls white. 

His hand leaves your swollen clit and wraps itself around your lower back, helping you maintain your arch form as he continues rocking himself into you well into his softened state. He can feel your body start to tense out of overstimulation, so he finally pulls out of you, leaving you a leaking mess of both your and his cum. He sits back on his hunches, his fingers drawing circles on your inner thighs, just admiring the sight until his cock begins to stir again. 

“Jesus, Morales,” you giggle breathily as you clocked the jump of his length.

He leans over you again, giving you a sweet, lengthy kiss as he begins to slide himself off the bed. “What can I say, baby? I’m insatiable with you,” he gives you a mischievous smirk. 

He heads to the kitchen, returning to the bedroom with a chilled glass of water for you. “Drink up,” he says.

Before he makes it to the en suite bathroom, he adds, “I’m not done with you yet, mama.”

Despite the sensitivity down there, your pussy flutters at his words, craving him down there in any way shape or form.

He returns with a warm cloth, cleaning you up as best as he can with your second round of slick and his endless load of cum pouring from you. He sets the cloth down somewhere on the floor and situates himself up against the headboard. He wordlessly guides you to lay between his legs, your chest resting against his. 

“Wanna check on Isa?” Frankie asks, albeit a little shy. You smirk a little, knowing you’re usually the one to cave first. You make grabby hands at your phone on the nightstand, nudging Frankie to grab it since his wingspan is much larger than yours. He hands it to you, and you immediately dial Santi, hitting the speaker button as it rings.

“Hey, Santi.” 

“Hey, Mrs. Fish,” you can hear him laugh at his name for you. Frankie also gives a little laugh. He thought it was the funniest thing he’s ever said during your guys’ wedding reception. He calls you that more than your own name now. 

“How’s it going?” you try to ask in an unconcerned fashion. Santi knows you both all too well to know that isn’t the case. 

“You know you two didn’t have to quit just to check on her, right? Tío Santi knows how to distract! Also, tío Santi knows how to put her down for a nap!” He says proudly.

“I believe you, Santi, don’t worry. Just checking. Frankie just kept bugging-” 

Before you could continue your sentence, Frankie’s hands immediately go to your sides, hitting all your ticklish spots. You scream out, a loud stream of giggles leaving you. 

“Coño, por favor, not while I’m on the phone!” You hear Santi say. “Sorry, Sorry,” you say, still out of breath from Frankie’s merciless attack. 

“Actually, Santi, can I ask another favor?” 

Frankie looks at you confused. You smirk at him. “Is tío Santi prepared for his first sleepover?” His confusion fades and immediately his eyes are consumed with pure lust, his soft brown eyes turning black. 

Santi is silent for a moment. “You two are downright feral, you know that, right?”

You stifle a laugh. “Ay Dios mío (oh my God),” Frankie mutters. 

“As long as I get another niece — or nephew, I really have no preference — in nine months time…” Santi trails off in thought. “Then I’d dedicate every damn weekend to her,” he says. 

You turn your head around and up to meet Frankie’s eyes, both of you in shock at Santi’s silent invitation, silence fills the air for a moment before you finally bring yourself to speak. 

“Oh? Alright, then,” you softly say. “Thank you, Santi, you’re the best. We’ll text you, okay? Bye,” you hang up, not giving Santi any chances to return the call-ending formalities. You and Frankie are still looking at each other, eyes wild at the proposition before you. 

“Every weekend, huh?” Frankie says, breaking the tension first. His head dips down to place a kiss where your neck and shoulder meet. 

You suck in a breath, arousal forming faster than a strike of lightning. “Mhm,” you barely get out. His hands are roaming your body now, your phone thrown haphazardly somewhere in the room, long forgotten. He places his hands on the insides of your thighs, spreading you open and keeping them atop his own legs, so he can hold you open. His one hand is spread largely over your lower belly while his other hand is already teasing your core. 

His finger circles directly on your clit, you yelp in response, your body twitching. “Every weekend, I’m gonna get to fuck my wife, huh?” Frankie says into your ear. “Gonna fill her full of me?” Your hips buck at the huskiness of his voice, of his possessiveness over you. Your response is incoherent, more of a moan than anything. Next thing you know, your room reverberates with the noise of a wet slap. 

He spanked your pussy. The sound that escapes your throat is beyond arousing, Frankie’s cock back to life, dripping on your lower back. “Answer me properly, baby,” he says again, softly. His fingers are circling your clit again, forcing more of your wetness out of you, his cum from earlier still seeking its place on your bedsheets.

“Mmm, fuck-” you breathe, “Yes, yes, every weekend, baby,” you’re nodding your head frantically as you try to keep your eyes trained on his actions down below. “Every weekend you’re gonna make me so full,” you whimper, “Gonna fuck a baby into me, daddy, I need you so bad.”

He slides two of his fingers into you at your words, his hips grind into your back at the feel of your warmth, of his spend keeping you nice and wet. His fingers pump in and out of you at a languid pace, his fingers arching in a come-here motion to beckon more of his cum onto his fingers. He pulls out of you momentarily, analyzing the mess he’s made. “Open, querida,” he whispers, likely in a trance at the sight. 

You open your mouth, tongue out and ready. He sticks his fingers into your mouth, and you lap up his salty spend greedily, as if it were the sweetest of syrups. You taste a distinct tanginess on his fingers, most likely the product of your own arousal. Your eyes fall shut at your taste, eyes feeling heavy and too blissed out to stay open. He pulls out of your mouth with a pop and grabs your chin, turning your face to his. He pulls you in for an open-mouthed kiss, wet and hot. His hand leaves your face and returns to your core. His fingers are back inside you, pushing in and out as his palm grinds perfectly into your clit. Your hips are moving in tandem, providing you with the perfect rhythm to soak him all over again. His lips never break from your own, tongues dancing in a way only you two get to know. 

Your hand seeks purchase at the back of his neck, tugging at the base of his curls, taking away his opportunity to break away from you. He moans into your mouth at the sharp sensation, your lower back a sticky mess from how much he’s leaking onto you. 

Finally, you break away, lips still connected by the thinnest of spit lines. “Baby, I- I’m gonna cum, shit-”

Frankie lets out a growl, desperate to have you fall apart on him. He maintains his same pace, adding a bit more pressure of his palm to your clit, his other hand pushing harder down into your belly, knowing how crazy the stimulation drives you. “Give it to me,” he mumbles in your ear, his heavy breathing fanning across your cheek. “Need it, baby. Need you,” he whines. 

“Fuck-!” you yell out, head pushing harder into his shoulder, eyes clamping shut and forming white, blinding fireworks beneath your eyelids. He fucks his fingers in you as you ride out your high, tears letting loose as your pussy squirts into his hand and all over both your bottom halves. 

The sight transforms him into a cumming mess, the only stimulation being the friction from your backside as he rutted into you. You don’t notice the warm wetness between your bodies until your body falls completely limp against him, breathing still heavy but slowly returning to normal. Frankie bejewels your face with sweet kisses — from your temples to the edge of your shoulder that he can reach — as you slowly come back to Earth. 

You look up at him now, a soft smile spread across your face. His heart stutters at the sight. You shift your back a little. “Did you…?”

“Yes, I did,” Frankie admits way too quickly, embarrassment flooding his face. 

You pull him into one more kiss before you start to get up. “Come on. Shower and then we eat,” you tell him. “You didn’t get to settle yourself down after work,” you add, slightly scolding him for his impatience yet also silently thanking him. 

“I can always eat in the shower,” Frankie adds suggestively, his eyes giving your body a once over as you stand beside the bed, waiting for him to get a move on. 

“Morales!” you gasp out. “Bad,” you say, shaking your head from side to side. 

“You know it’s gonna happen, mi amor (my love),” he says as he stands, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you into him, seeking your warmth. 

And it does happen. He makes you fall apart on his tongue twice, and you pay him back by reducing him down to jelly legs as you fuck his cum down your throat. By the time you two actually start your shower, the water is completely cold, not one drop of hot water available. 

Post-shower, you two cook a fast, simple meal, too eager to be on each other again, but too aware of how important it is to give your body sustenance in order to continue with your feral behavior. You only get a few hours of sleep that night. Falling asleep after each round only to wake back up a horny, dripping mess just to fuck again. You don’t remember the last time you two did something like this, but damn were you two needing it. You made a mental note to thank Santi for his much needed offer.

The next morning you wake up at seven, the first sensation you feel for the day is your sore pussy, red and puffy as she begs you to give her a break. You look at the knocked out man beside you, give him a kiss on the forehead and break away from his hold, bringing yourself to the bathroom. You take your phone with you. 

[07:13] Just woke up. Drop Isabela off whenever you’re ready. 

[07:15] God, no wonder she’s up already. She’s got your early ass schedule. 

You laugh to yourself, picturing Santi a half asleep man child as your daughter crawls all over him, forcing him to get up, too. What Santi didn’t know was that it was actually Isa’s schedule that you were on. 

[07:16] Pobrecito (poor thing). :( 

[07:16] She’ll probably be asking for Frankie soon. She always cuddles him in the morning. 

[07:17] Yep, she just did. I’ll feed her some breakfast now, then we’ll be on our way. That good, Mrs. Fish?

[07:18] If it’s good with little Fish, then it’s good with me. 

He sends you a thumbs up, and you set your phone down. You wash up and get ready for the day. 

After you brush your teeth and wash your face, you head to Frankie’s side of the closet and grab one of his soft, cotton tees to throw on. 

You head to the kitchen, your first course of action being to fire up the espresso machine. Espresso is the only form of coffee you drink, and soon enough, Frankie followed in your footsteps. Just as you suspected, as soon as the smell of the beans filled the air, Frankie appeared in the kitchen. His sleepy eyes and sexed out hair on display nearly cause your knees to buckle, your aching pussy betraying your want for a lazy morning. 

He makes his way to you and kisses you, soft and slow, probably needing a lazy morning just as much as you. “Good morning, mi esposa (my wife),” he says, voice still raspy from sleep. 

“Mmm, good morning, mi esposo (my husband),” you smile up at him. “Sleep well?”

“With the sleep that I did get, I’d say yeah,” he says. “You really tired me out, hermosa (beautiful),” he adds.

You pull him down for another kiss. You’ll never tire of the feeling. “Waffles?”

His eyes light up, a boyish grin on his face. “Yes, please.”

Around 8:30 as you and Frankie finish your waffles, the front door is unlocking. A little girl with crazy hair comes busting in, running straight for the both of you to pull you guys into a tight group hug. 

“Mommy! Daddy!” she screams.

“Mi amorcito,” Frankie responds, matching her energy. “Mi niña loca (my crazy girl),” you squeal. “I missed you so much!” you add. 

You and Frankie kiss each of her cheeks, sandwiching her little face. 

“Did you have fun with tío Santi?” you ask.

“So much fun, mommy! We had ice cream for break-”

Before she could finish, Santi chimes in. “O-o-okayyyyy, Isa!” he claps his hand once. “Why don’t you bring this to your room,” he hands her a tiny gift bag — probably the product of some shopping they did — “while I talk to mommy and daddy?”

“Okay, tío Santi!” She takes the bag and makes her way to her room. 

Your eyebrows are raised in mock scolding as you wait for Santi to explain himself. “Hey! In my defense, those puppy dog eyes are a killer. I couldn’t say no.”

The three of you break out into laughter, Frankie going in for a hug, clapping Santi on the back as he releases him. 

“Waffles?” you offer Santi. He graciously accepts, making his way to the other side of the kitchen counter, helping himself. 

“So-” you and Frankie say at the same time. Santi pauses his actions mid-bite. 

Frankie nudges you to speak first. You clear your throat to ease the awkwardness in the room. 

“So,” you start again. “Were you, uh… were you serious about watching Isa?” you ask?

“Every weekend?” Frankie adds. 

You giggle, nodding an affirmative at your husband. “Yes, every weekend?” 

Santi finishes the bite he paused on, and sets his waffle down. “You dirty dogs!” he says. 

“Pope, come on,” Frankie’s palms go over his cheeks that are currently turning red at Santi’s teasing. 

He lets out a laugh. “Sí, cabrón (yes, asshole),” Santi says, slapping Frankie’s shoulder.  “Of course I’m serious. I’d do anything for both of you, and especially that demon of a little girl.” 

Your heart warms at Santi’s sentiment. You’re beyond grateful Frankie has a best friend like him. 

“On one condition,” Santi adds, his eyebrow quirked up.

“Anything,” you say eagerly. Frankie nods his head in agreement with you.

“I also wasn’t kidding when I said I’d need another sobrino (niece/nephew).”

You and Frankie look at each other, your stares saying everything they needed to. Yeah, Santi didn’t need to worry about that. 

And you were right when the next Saturday morning, a month and four tío Santi sleepovers later, you and Frankie presented Santi with your pregnancy test displaying two pink lines.

End note: Thank you all so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, etc, — all your support means the absolute world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do this without all of you. Thank you so so so much. There are genuinely not enough words to express my gratitude. As always feedback for my stories (at a technical sense) is also super super helpful whether it is constructive or positive! Anything helps me to be the best writer that I can be. All my love! Xo

Tags: @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @suzdin @getitoutofmymind @pedrostories

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or removed!

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Office Hours/Bells is lowkey becoming one of my comfort fics, I love the lore and that they come from a kind of friendship that makes the whole fucked-up-ness of their situation less apparent xd Is there any chance you're considering writing another part? 👀

Also, your writing style is very impressive to me, I love how you go into detail when describing Y/n's feelings and thoughts and I like your vocabulary :3

Office Hours/Bells - Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader (Part 3)

Pairing: Professor!Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 10 329

Warnings: SMUT (public/car sex, fingering, masturbation, overstimulation, p in v, spanking, cunnilingus, dry humping, thigh humping, slight bimbofication), Obsessive behaviour, Professor x Student

Summary: Life had gone back to normal for Y/n now, back at uni and free to live, but she stayed with Jonathan. Then Jonathan starts getting needy and one thing leads to another.

A/N: I had no intentions of writing another part to this but I had to after this ask, thank you so much for sending me this anon 💚 I love hearing from you lot and I really appreciate it :) I'm glad to write someones comfort fic, it means the world to me.

I made Jonathan not only a horny bastard, but also a teasing bastard cause he's an asshat.

I also brought Edward back cause Y/n needs friends! I hope you enjoy 💚

(Office Hours/Bells Masterlist) (Part 2) - (Part 4)

-

Y/n’s life seemed to have seamlessly returned to its familiar rhythm. University occupied her days and she was granted her freedom to leave whenever she wished. Returning to university proved surprisingly seamless. Explaining her abrupt absence required minimal effort, considering the shitty environment of Gotham. In a city with its own set of pressing concerns, the university showed little interest in the temporary disappearance of a single student. Some of her peers questioned her abrupt absence, but she told them it was family matters which made them drop the topic immediately. Her once-close friends, though accepting her explanation, gradually drifted away due to the lack of communication. She understood their perspective, yet the tethering force of circumstance made rekindling those connections a challenge. Nonetheless, in her newfound relationship with Jonathan, those fading ties held little consequence.

Jonathan had become the focal point of her existence, a gravitational force that commanded her thoughts every second of each living moment. Love enveloped her heart, and every morning, she revelled in waking up next to him, ensuring each time he left was accompanied by a heartfelt goodbye. She made sure he woke her up before he departed at ungodly hours just to say goodbye.

Yet, the intensity of her emotions caused many problems. Times when Jonathan would leave without waking her up, she’d frantically dial his phone, calling a hundred times if she had to, only to unleash her frustration over the phone. But Every time, Jonathan responded with unwavering devotion, hastening back to comfort her unrest and lull her back into a peaceful slumber. There were instances when she felt utterly adrift, grappling with the overwhelming weight of existence, succumbing to panic attacks that left her incapacitated. In those vulnerable moments, he would return to a dishevelled scene, a testament to the chaos that was caused by his absence.

Aware that her obsession was a result of his actions, he acknowledged the unhealthy dynamic but he honestly couldn’t care less. Rather than recoiling, he found a peculiar allure in her obsession. Initially motivated by a desire for her well-being, his aspirations shifted over time. Now, he craved her presence unapologetically, indifferent to the means employed to secure it. What once began as a pursuit of what was best for Y/n transformed into an unbridled desire to possess her, regardless of the cost.

-

"Should I go pick up the rest of my stuff from the dorms?" Y/n inquired, setting her book down and directing her gaze toward Jonathan, who was seated at his desk.

He glanced over at her, considering the question. "I suppose that would be wise. I can drop you off at the dorms to gather your things tomorrow if you'd like. I won’t be able to help you get them though, being a professor and all." Jonathan suggested.

"That’s fine, I have a bunch of suitcases to pack my shit in. I'll let my parents know I've moved into a new rental and won't need to pay for the dorms anymore," Y/n confirmed.

Although her belongings at the dorm were not extensive, the prospect of decorating the warehouse with her personal items excited her, transforming it into a space that felt more like home. She looked forward to the opportunity to drag Jonathan to a department store, determined to infuse the place with a proper sense of homeliness, complete with a well-equipped kitchen. The bathroom, too, demanded considerable attention. In its current state, it lacked any built-in features, as they’d only been there for a week.

-

Gathering her belongings proved to be a straightforward task. Y/n efficiently packed everything from her compact dorm room into the waiting suitcases nestled in her closet. The prospect of adorning the warehouse with her personal items filled her with excitement. Down the elevator and into Jonathan's car parked outside, she loaded her possessions before promptly returning the key to the front desk.

Back at the warehouse, she eagerly unpacked her bag. Carefully laying out her blankets on the bed, the necessity of being well-prepared for the harsh Gotham winters. Finally having a place for the essential home items collected over the years, like plates and cutlery, added a comforting touch to her new living space.

"You've got quite the haul," Jonathan remarked, observing Y/n pull out an abundance of items.

Raising an eyebrow, Y/n questioned, "You don't like my mugs?" She held up a pair of cat-themed mugs that she had just grabbed from her suitcase.

Jonathan chuckled, "I just didn't expect someone who lived at the dorm to have such an array of things."

"Well, I bought them so that when I was ready, I'd already have everything to fill a house," Y/n explained.

Jonathan arched an eyebrow, "Then it must disappoint you that this is barely a house."

"Nonsense. It means I get to choose how this place is decorated," Y/n retorted with a smirk, asserting her enthusiasm for transforming their living space.

"Oh, really? What's your vision then?" Jonathan inquired, intrigued by Y/n's plans.

Leaning against the modest kitchen, Y/n surveyed their current setup. "Well, I'm not entirely certain about the kitchen yet, but it's going to be a vast improvement from what we have now," she asserted, gesturing towards the pitiful kitchen space, barely accommodating a mini fridge with a microwave above and a small countertop.

"And as for the bathroom, gunmetal grey, I think. Nice tiles, too," Y/n envisioned.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow, a practical concern surfacing. "You do understand we can't have people coming in here to do that work, right?" he pointed out, as this place held all his illegal equipment.

"I know. I can do it myself," Y/n confidently replied.

Surprised, Jonathan questioned, "You know how to tile?"

"Yeah, my mum and dad used to do up houses together. I've got some handiness skills, don't worry," Y/n assured, her tone reflecting both competence and determination. “But besides..that’s a job for another day.”

Jonathan hadn't imagined such a skill from Y/n, but he found himself appreciating the prospect of someone finally transforming their warehouse into something more inviting. As Y/n carried on with her unpacking, the idea of a visually improved environment began to take root.

-

Y/n dedicated the majority of her class time to envisioning and designing the ideal kitchen and bathroom for the warehouse. Having already grasped the lesson from Jonathan a week ago in private, most of the material seemed redundant. Jonathan, aware of her tendency to zone out, didn’t mind much. He’d never call her out in lectures like the other students.

Armed with her sketches and ideas, Y/n meticulously outlined the placement of kitchen cabinets and various items in her notebook. She opted against structural changes, acknowledging her lack of confidence in altering the layout of walls.

From his desk at the front, Jonathan observed her from a distance. Even at that distance, he could discern a glint in her eyes as she immersed herself in the creative process. His gaze remained captivated by her presence. The subtle way she bit her lip in deep thought, coupled with her choice to sit at the front, afforded him a clear view of her legs beneath the desk. Legs crossed, bare, and accentuated by the skirt she had chosen to wear that day, further held his attention.

Jonathan had always perceived her in a clean, innocent way–until today. Now, he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was a dirty old man. Though she wasn't doing anything remotely sexual, he still felt ashamed of himself. To make matters worse, he couldn't tell whether he'd manage to restrain his impulses once alone with her.

-

The lecture concluded, and Y/n patiently waited for the room to clear before slipping into Jonathan's office.

"I've got some home plans!" Y/n announced, waving her paper triumphantly as she approached him.

Rounding the side of his desk, she brought a chair with her and settled next to him. Leaning in, she shuffled closer, spreading out her papers and indicating the above-view image of the warehouse's floor plan.

"I was thinking we could shift the kitchen over here, away from the bathroom. I mean, having no space between the two rooms is kind of gross, don't you think?" Y/n explained, pointing at the image with her pen.

Jonathan tried to focus on her words, but her proximity, especially the enticing warmth of her thigh against his own, distracted him.

"We can relocate the living space here, and it would be a better setup than what we have now. As we settle in, maybe we could add some walls, but honestly, I'm not confident in my skill set for that right now, so tha—" Y/n abruptly halted her explanation, catching Jonathan's lingering gaze.

"Why are you staring at me?" she inquired, noticing his distraction.

Jonathan, unable to resist, admitted, "Sorry, my Dear," before capturing her lips in a surprisingly passionate kiss, letting actions convey what words couldn't.

She emitted a soft squeak in response to the unexpected kiss, attributing it to Jonathan's attempt to express affection. Detecting an unusual tension in him that day, she decided to let it slide. "It's fine, just don't complain when the warehouse looks weird," she quipped with a playful note.

Y/n rose from the chair and settled onto the couch. However, the lingering trace of her scent and the warmth from her body seemed to cling to him, leaving an indelible impression long after she had moved away.

-

They arrived back at his hideout later in the night, and Jonathan couldn't shake off the feeling that he was a dirty pervert. All he wanted was Y/n's body all over him, a thought that clashed violently with his normally dispassionate nature. Even when he was a teenager, he never had romantic thoughts about anyone, much less lustful ones. But in his defense, his school was full of assholes and his grandmother would beat the lust out of him. But now, with Y/n in the picture, he couldn't help but feel like he was losing control.

Jonathan had promised Y/n that they would sit on the couch together and watch a movie tonight. She was bouncing with excitement, already making microwave popcorn for the movie. When she jumped onto the couch beside him, Jonathan couldn't help but feel his heart pounding in his chest. He tried to focus on the screen, but all he could see was Y/n's warm, inviting body next to him. Jonathan could feel all the blood rush to his dick, making it twitch painfully under his jeans. Thankfully, Y/n kept a blanket on the couch so he could cover up and pretend that nothing was wrong.

Y/n laid her head on Jonathan's shoulder while he sat awkwardly straight. She thought nothing of his usual stiffness, and for once, he was glad for his natural awkwardness. He could feel her warm breath on his neck, and the gentle rise and fall of her chest against his own. He tried to focus on the movie, but all he could think about was the soft curves of her body. He couldn't help but feel a wave of desire wash over him as he fought to keep his hands to himself.

While Y/n was enjoying The Spongebob Squarepants Movie, Jonathan was stuck in a battle with his own thoughts. All he could think about was how he wanted to hear Y/n moan and scream beneath him as he rammed his dick into her. He tried to keep his cool, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was losing control.

Jonathan let his eyes drift from the flashy colors of the screen to Y/n. He couldn't help but notice the way her leg was thrusted out from under the blanket, her loose shorts revealing the soft, warm flesh of her thigh. 

All he could think about was how he wanted to bury his face between Y/n's thighs and eat her out while her legs squeezed his head. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he couldn't help but imagine the way her body would shudder with pleasure as he brought her to orgasm.

Poor Y/n wanted to have a sweet moment together, but Jonathan's thoughts were ruining it for him. Y/n had no idea of the battle that raged within him, the way he wanted to throw her down onto the couch and rut her like a dog in heat. He knew he had to keep it together if he didn't want to ruin this precious moment with Y/n.

He remained blissfully unaware that the film had ended until the closing credits began rolling, accompanied by the familiar tune of "Ocean Man." Y/n sat up, stretching, and inadvertently causing her shirt to ride up a little.

"I love that movie," she expressed, glancing down at Jonathan, who remained seated, seemingly reluctant to move.

"Come on, time for bed," Y/n insisted, seizing Jonathan's hand and coaxing him off the couch.

As she switched off the TV and put the empty popcorn bowl away, Jonathan stood there, taking a moment to readjust his pants, ensuring they wouldn't expose him. The both of them climbed up the stairs and hopped in the bed. 

"Goodnight," Y/n murmured, leaving a tender kiss on Jonathan's cheek before rolling over.

"Sleep came easily for Y/n, but for Jonathan, it was a different story. He lay awake with his hard dick pressed against his pants, thinking he couldn’t possibly be as horny in the morning as he was now, right? Oh boy, was he wrong.

-

For the next week, Jonathan felt like a perverted bastard. Every time he saw Y/n, he could feel his dick pulse in his pants. When he took her to the department store to look at cabinets and countertops, he couldn't help but imagine the way her body would shudder with pleasure as he fucked her over each one of them. How cute she’d look laying over the counters, moaning and squealing in pleasure as Jonathan fucked her. 

The two successfully purchased a nice set of countertops without Jonathan succumbing to his usual impulses. To maintain a low profile, Jonathan opted to rent a trailer for transporting the counters, avoiding the attention that delivery might attract. With the countertops secured, Y/n wasted no time and dove into the task of installing them in her designated kitchen space. Jonathan helped in rearranging everything, providing a helping hand as Y/n drilled the countertops into their designated spots.

Y/n was on the ground, drilling the indie shlefs of the lower cabinets. Jonathan walked up behind her and stood there. Y/n was wearing baggy pair of pajama shorts and he couldn’t look away from her ass. He wanted to grab her hips and force his dick inside of her like some shitty porno. Y/n noticed Jonathan standing behind her and looked back. 

"Everything okay, Jonathan?" Y/n inquired, her concern evident in her voice.

Jonathan inhaled sharply before walking away. He hoped Y/n hadn't seen his raging bulge in his pants. Y/n had begun noticing his strange behavior. If he wasn't strange before, he sure was now. She couldn't understand why he was like this. She tried to focus on their task, but all she could think about was the way his eyes had lingered on her body just a moment too long. Could he be thinking of some kind of twisted experiment like he does to his other victims. She couldn't help but feel a wave of unease wash over her as she wondered what was going on inside his head.

-

Y/n reclined on Jonathan's office couch, casually flipped through bathroom catalogues. As he watched her from behind the desk, Jonathan couldn't help but admire her stunning presence. Flipping through the pages with a smile, Y/n eventually stood up and approached Jonathan, holding a particular page out for him to look at.

"What do you think?" she inquired, presenting the page before him.

Yet, Jonathan found his gaze fixed on Y/n's face rather than the catalog. A face he looked at countless times daily, yet it still retained its irresistible allure, maintaining an enduring power over him. And these past couple weeks, everything about her he admire suddenly brought blood rushing to his dick.

Y/n's smile waned as silence met her question. "Jonathan?"

Before she could react, he swiftly cupped her face in his hands and pulled her into a kiss, leaving her momentarily breathless. She would have gasped if his mouth hadn't enveloped hers. When he finally pulled back, he held her gaze.

"Jonat—" she began, only to be abruptly cut off.

With a forceful motion, Jonathan cleared his books from the table, then effortlessly picked Y/n up from the ground, dropping her onto the tabletop. She squealed in surprise as he stood, the chair screeching against the floor, and loomed over her.

Y/n's heart raced as she realized Jonathan's true intentions. He brought his lips back down onto hers, kissing her with a fiery passion she'd never seen before. He pressed himself up against her, and she could feel his hard member pressing into her. It all made sense to her now. Jonathan was just really horny. All she could think about was the way his kisses made her body tingle with excitement.

She kissed him back, her fingers tangling in his hair. He groaned at her delicate touch and brought his lips down her face, leaving a trail of kisses on her jaw. He sucked and bit at her jaw and neck, leaving marks that would turn into bruises later. His hands glided down the sides of her body, gripping her plush thighs that he had been admiring for the past couple weeks. His rough fingers felt like heaven against her soft skin.

Jonathan subconsciously began grinding his hips into Y/n, and she let out a moan that echoed through the room. Y/n let her hands drag down Jonathan's body, making their way down to his pants, and that's when Jonathan realized what they were doing and where they were. He pulled away from her, but she couldn't help but feel a wave of disappointment wash over her.

"We can't, Y/n," Jonathan said, standing up.

"What!? Why not?" Y/n questioned, sitting up from the table, a frown creasing her forehead.

"I'm not going to fuck you for the first time on a desk in my office," Jonathan said.

"Then why don't you make love to me on your desk in your office?" Y/n teased, playfully dragging her foot up the inside of his leg.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow in response, and Y/n, with an eye roll, conceded, "Fine."

Jonathan assisted her off the desk and took a moment to brush her hair, ensuring she looked presentable. "Come on, let's go home," he suggested.

"Fine, but the second we get through that door, your dick is all mine," Y/n playfully declared.

-

Y/n practically sprinted to the car in the parking lot, surprising Jonathan with her infectious enthusiasm. Once both of them were inside the car, Y/n quickly slid into the middle seat and peppered the side of Jonathan's face with kisses. A warmth spread through Jonathan's neck beneath his collar, caught off guard by Y/n’s affection.

He pulled out onto the road and Y/n was still at his side, her finger drawing pattern on his thigh, her touch like a feather that ignited a flame within him. “You keep this up and I might crash.” Jonathan said, his voice shaking with desire.

She chuckled a little, her tongue darting out to lick the side of his neck while her hand began to wander, tracing patterns on his chest with her tight grip, sending tingles down to his core. Y/n dragged her finger down to his hard member through his pants and squeezed it suddenly, causing Jonathan nearly to swerve off the road. It was a moment of intoxicating desire that he could not control.

"Fuck, Y/n. Are you trying to get punished?" Jonathan inquired.

"Maybe..." Y/n replied with a sly grin.

Jonathan gently removed her hand from his crotch. "Not while I'm driving," he asserted.

"Can you at least play with me then?" Y/n pleaded, pouting.

He sighed, "Lie down," he commanded.

Y/n was caught up in the heat of the moment, her body craving Jonathan's touch. She felt pleasure rush to her core and quickly laid down on her back, her head on Jonathan’s thigh. Jonathan, with his eyes still on the road, brought his hand down Y/n’s body and grasped her thighs. He pulled it back, one of her legs now in the air.

“You naughty fucking girl.” He said, giving her ass a hard slap. “Can’t wait till we're home.” 

She squealed before giggling. “I’m sorry, Professor, I just want you so bad!” Y/n said, her words catching in her throat.

He brought his hand to her core and rubbed her through her shorts. She hummed and grabbed a hold of Jonathan’s arm, her fingers digging into his skin. She started grinding up against it, trying to get more friction, her breath coming in short gasps.

Y/n's body was on fire as she felt Jonathan's hand slide down her pants and into her underwear. She bit her lip and moaned, her hips bucking against his touch. She felt his fingers graze her clit, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her core. He could feel her wetness through her underwear, his fingers slipping and sliding against her. Jonathan did his best to stay focused on the road, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

He couldn't resist the temptation any longer. He pulled over to the side of the road, his eyes locked on Y/n's. 

“What are you doing?” Y/n asked, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“Come here,” Jonathan said, pulling her right up against his chest.

He could feel her heart racing against his own. He pushed her shorts down her legs and opened her back up, his fingers dipping between her wet pussy lips. She let out a moan, her hips bucking against his touch. His other hand pushed her hair out of the way, giving her neck a passionate kiss. She let out a moan, her body arching into his touch. 

“You’re so desperate for my touch, my Dear,” Jonathan said.

He rubbed his finger in circles at her entrance, teasing her and driving her wild. “Yeah, but you’re the one who pulled over to finger me, Dr. Crane..” Y/n giggled, her voice breathy with desire.

He grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him, his eyes burning into hers. “Keep up that attitude and you won’t be cumming for a week.”

She let out a gasp, her body shivering at his words. “Sorry, Dr. Crane, I’ll be good..” she said, her voice trembling.

“Good girl,” he said, his eyes softening as he kissed the top of her head. He plunged his finger into her, filling her up with his touch.

He pumped his fingers into her hole, her body clenching and unclenching around his touch. The sloppy noises filled the car, her moans and gasps echoing off the walls of the car. The scent of her sex filled the air, making his head swim with desire. He gripped her hips tightly, his fingers digging into her skin as he pumped in and out of her.

“Tonight, I’m going to make you come, over and over again. You hear me?” Jonathan spoke, right up against her ear.

Y/n nodded, her eyes wide with anticipation. Her walls began throbbing around him, her body shivering with desire.

“Are you gonna cum on my fingers, my Dear?” Jonathan asked.

“Mhmm, Professor, I’m so close!” Y/n whined, her voice breathy with excitement.

He rubbed her in circles, his thumb rubbing against her clit, driving her wild. Her breath picked up as Jonathan continued to pump his fingers inside of her and flick her clit. She gripped his arm tighter, her body shivering with anticipation. He rubbed her in circles, his thumb rubbing against her clit, driving her wild. She let out a moan, her body arching into his touch.

It was a moment of intense pleasure that they couldn't resist. She came hard, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm. Her pussy clenched and unclenched around his touch, the wetness of her sex filling the air. He could feel the heat of her body, the passion of their moment bursting forth in a explosion of desire. It was a moment of intense desire that left them both breathless.

Jonathan pressed a kiss on her temple. “Let’s go home, my Dear.” Jonathan said, his voice sweet.

He pulled his fingers out of her, a string of her slick stuck to them. He brought them to his lips and sucked her sweet essence off of his fingers. Y/n let out a gasp, her body shivering with excitement.

Just as Y/n was about to sit back up, Jonathan held her back, keeping her anchored against him. Her body swelled with love at this little gesture. She laid back against him, her head resting on his chest. She could clearly see his hard member sitting in his pants, but she knew she couldn't touch it while he was driving. The drive back never felt longer. 

-

Getting through the warehouse door, Y/n pounced on Jonathan, kissing him deeply. Her breath picked up as he lifted her off the ground, her body shivering with anticipation. He made his way up the stairs to the bed, dropping her down on it. She gripped the sheets in her fists, her body swelling with desire.

He climbed on top of her, his lips pressing against hers. He moved his kisses to her neck, suckling at the tender skin. She gripped his hair, her body arching into his touch. He thrust his hips against hers, the heat of his body pressing against her. She could feel the hardness of his cock in his pants, the tip pressing against her cunt. She tightened her legs around his hips, pulling him down on her. He groaned, his lips pressing against hers.

 “This is what you wanted?” Jonathan said, seductively.

“Mhmm,” Y/n hummed, her lips biting together.

He bit her neck hard, her body shuddering with excitement. “Say it,” he commanded.

“Yes, Dr. Crane!” Y/n cried, her body arching into his touch.

He smirked, his lips pressing against hers. He continued to grind down on her, the heat of his body pressing against her. She let out a gasp as he ripped her shorts down her legs. 

“Don't think I haven't forgotten about that punishment,” he said.

Jonathan left a hard slap on Y/n's ass, the sting of it burning against her skin. She let out a gasp, her body shuddering with excitement. He rubbed the spot where he had hit her, his thumb rubbing against her skin.

Jonathan grabbed her hips, pulling her up, so her ass was in the air. He spread her legs and gave her ass another slap. 

“Letting your Professor finger you in the car, naughty little girl,” Jonathan said. A hard slap came down on her ass before thrust his fingers into her pussy, the heat of his touch sending shivers down her spine. 

“Playing with your little cunt sounds a lot worse to me, Professor,” Y/n teased.

Another slap came down on her ass, “You calling me a dirty pervert?” Jonathan asked.

“I may be..” she smirked.

“Yeah? So I'm a dirty pervert and you're a naive little girl,” he said, his voice low and rough. He planted a kiss down on her red ass cheek.

Jonathan flipped her back over, planting sweet kisses on her lips. Y/n, eager for more, slid her hands to Jonathan's shoulders, working on removing his jacket. However, just as things were about to escalate, Jonathan's work phone rang, his illegal work phone.

The two of them cursed simultaneously. Jonathan sighed and rested his forehead on Y/n’s with his eyes closed. “You have to be fucking kidding me,” Jonathan said.

Jonathan sat back up, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his phone and promptly answered it. Y/n pouted, propping herself up on her elbows as she watched him on the phone. His voice conveyed clear frustration, and the expression on his face mirrored the sentiment. Whatever transpired, it was evident that the situation was far from favorable.

The call ended, and Jonathan's expression turned somber as he dragged his hand down his face. "I have to head down to Arkham, I'm sorry, my Dear," he sighed.

Y/n's face dropped, desperation evident in her eyes. "No! You can't leave me!" she cried.

"I know, Y/n, I'm sorry. I need to deal with this, the Batman's been snooping, and I can't let that happen," Jonathan explained, gently holding Y/n's face in his hands.

"But I need you!" Y/n's eyes welled up with tears.

"Y/n, if the Batman finds out what I'm doing, I won't be coming back to you at all, and you don't want that, do you?" Jonathan said.

She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. Jonathan planted a tender kiss on her forehead.

"I'll be back, don't cry," he reassured her.

She nodded, sniffling. "I'll wait," Y/n declared.

"I know," Jonathan offered a small smile before hopping off the bed and walking down the stairs.

Y/n fought to compose herself, determined not to shed any more tears. Left lying on the bed as Jonathan exited the warehouse, she wiped away the traces of her emotional outburst and mustered the strength to rise. Making her way to the bathroom, she assessed her reflection in the mirror.

Apart from her puffy eyes, her appearance seemed unremarkable, but she desired to present her best self for Jonathan upon his return. Opting for a quick shower and freshening up, she hastily ascended the stairs to select an outfit for the occasion.

She tossed her clothes around in a flurry, searching for something alluring to showcase her body to Jonathan. Unfortunately, it seemed her collection of bras and underwear consisted mainly of plain and mundane options. While she did have a couple of lacy pieces, they lacked the thrilling allure she desired. She let out a sigh, berating herself for not anticipating such a scenario.

Preferring not to be entirely naked upon Jonathan's return, Y/n searched for an outfit that would offer him the pleasure of unwrapping her later. Opting for a nice skirt and shirt combination, she believed Jonathan wouldn't mind. Choosing a short skirt, she hiked it up even higher, pairing it with a small shirt that ended just below her breasts and featured a flattering sweetheart neckline.

Adorned in her chosen attire, Y/n felt she looked absolutely adorable and held onto the hope that Jonathan would think the same. Laying back on the bed, Y/n contemplated the moments she would share with Jonathan upon his return. Despite her efforts to stay awake and be ready for him, she succumbed to exhaustion within an hour.

-

Jonathan wante to kill everyone that fucked up his night with Y/n, he was furious the entire time getting things sorted at Arkham. Hiding his experiments was already a challenging task, and the incompetence of those who worked for him made everything more difficult to an unnecessary degree.

Jonathan raced back to the warehouse, speeding all the way. By the time he arrived, well past 11 o'clock, the faint sound of a radio reached his ears from upstairs. Climbing the stairs, he sighed at the sight of Y/n, peaceful and beautiful, lying on the bed.

Regret gnawed at him for leaving her alone, he should have stayed, leaving the complications at Arkham for someone else to handle.

Noticing her changed clothes, he smiled. She lay on her stomach, her skirt revealing a hint of her tempting silhouette. Chuckling softly, he joined her on the bed, sitting beside her. As he stroked her hair, he could tell she was deeply asleep.

Jonathan planted a gentle kiss on her head before undressing and changing into pajamas. Slipping into bed beside her, he tucked her in, sharing the warmth of the covers.

-

Y/n awoke to find Jonathan's arm draped over her waist. Uncertain about the moment she fell asleep or when he returned home, a hint of disappointment lingered that they never ended up having sex last night. Nevertheless, the joy of his return outweighed any regrets.

She leaned over to plant a kiss on his lips before gracefully rising from the bed. Jonathan stirred as the bed shifted with her movements, and he watched as Y/n stretched her arms upward and twisted from side to side. Chuckling at the sight of her, with her enticing figure partially exposed, Jonathan's amusement prompted Y/n to turn around and catch his gaze.

"You're up?" Y/n smiled, breaking the quiet morning.

“It would appear that way, my Dear,” Jonathan replied.

Y/n leaned over, giving Jonathan another kiss, and this time, he reciprocated as he was awake this time. Jonathan finally sat up, embracing Y/n in his arms. She smiled, and he swayed her gently from side to side.

“So… are you going to make love to me, Dr. Crane?” Y/n asked, her tone teasing.

She stood on her tiptoes, nibbling at his ear seductively. Jonathan chuckled and shook his head.

“Tonight, my Dear,” he said.

Y/n pouted, “I waited all night!”

“I know, but we have to go to university, and I want to take my time with you,” Jonathan explained with a playful smirk.

Y/n huffed and rolled her eyes. "You better!" she said before making her way down the stairs.

Jonathan chuckled, amused by her playful sulking. He got up, readying himself for the day ahead.

-

In the car, Y/n moved closer to Jonathan, reminiscent of the previous day. Her fingers traced patterns on his thigh, but Jonathan intercepted her hand before anything further could happen. Y/n huffed but decided to let it go.

Upon reaching the university, the two settled in Jonathan's office, awaiting the start of the lecture. Y/n occupied the couch, attempting to capture Jonathan's attention the entire time. She gracefully slid down the couch, causing her skirt to hike up, revealing her underwear.

Jonathan was well aware of her intentions. He chuckled a little, maintaining his self-control. Just the day before, he struggled to keep his dick in check, and now he found himself edging her. Though his thoughts were running wild, essentially eye fucking her, he managed to remain composed.

Y/n was driven wild with desire, yearning for Jonathan's touch. She didn't care where he touched her or where he fucked her, all she wanted was him. She pulled her skirt up higher, revealing her clothed sex, and sat with her legs open, giving Jonathan a view of what he was working with. Jonathan didn't hesitate to look, but he made no move to touch her yet.

Y/n sighed, "Don't make me hump the couch."

"Hump the couch and I won't be touching you," Jonathan said.

“So..” Y/n stood up from the couch and straddled his leg. "Can I hump your thigh then?" Y/n asked.

"Fine, but no orgasm," Jonathan said.

Y/n giggled and began rocking her hips back and forth, her breath hitching as she felt the head of his cock brush against her knee through his pants.

Y/n was riding Jonathan's thigh, her hips moving in a steady rhythm. Her dress had ridden up to her waist, revealing the black lace of her only pair of underwear. Her breasts swayed with each movement, her nipples hard and poking through the fabric. She was breathing heavily, her face flushed with excitement. Jonathan watched her, his cock twitching with desire. He could feel the dampness of her sex through the fabric of his pants. He knew he couldn't last much longer.

"Such a sweet girl, you are," Jonathan said, his hands settling on her hips as she rode his thigh.

Her knees continued to brush against his hard erection, and Y/n couldn't help but laugh. "Calm down, don't wanna fog up your glasses," she teased, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.

Jonathan pulled her closer to his chest, her ass jutting out. He delivered a hard smack to her ass, making her gasp. "Watch it," he said, his voice stern.

Y/n looked up at him with a sly grin. "Sorry, Doc," she teased, knowing exactly what she was doing to him.

Y/n continued to ride his thigh, her hips grinding down hard against his touch. She could feel the wetness between her legs, and she knew that he could too. His cock was hard, and she could feel it pressing against her. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the moans that were threatening to escape

Jonathan watched her, his eyes burning with lust. He delivered a swift smack to her ass, making her chuckle and him smrik. Y/n looked up at him, her eyes shining with excitement. 

"Doctor, I think I'm gonna cum," she said, her voice shaking with anticipation.

Y/n was on the edge of orgasm when Jonathan pulled her off of his knee. "I don't think so, Dear," he said firmly.

Her building orgasm vanished, and Y/n was left feeling frustrated and angry. "What the fuck!?" she yelled, her hands balled into fists.

Jonathan looked at her with a stern expression. "I said no orgasm," he reminded her.

Y/n huffed, her chest heaving with anger. "Fine. Then I'll just have to figure out another way to cum," she said, turning away from him.

But Jonathan wasn't done. He swatted her ass hard, making her yelp and turn back around. 

"Don't think for a second that you're in control here," he said.

Y/n was furious. She stood up from her position and stormed over to the couch, crossing her arms.

“No time for sulking, girl, gotta be out in 5...” Jonathan remarked.

She got up from the couch, declaring, “I’m leaving now!”

Y/n stomped out of the office door and headed to her usual seat at the front. She was in for a long lecture.

-

The lecture concluded, and Y/n approached Jonathan, who sported a familiar smirk.

“Ready to head home?” Y/n said.

“For you, yes,” Jonathan replied with a smile.

“What?” Y/n squinted, puzzled.

“I have a meeting, and I've asked Nigma to take you home,” Jonathan explained.

“What, you two are buddies now?” Y/n questioned.

“Doesn't matter what we are; I want you home safe while I'm at my meeting,” Jonathan stated, gathering his belongings.

Y/n sighed, “You better be back before 5, come any later, and I'll be cumming instead,” she teased.

Jonathan chuckled, planting a kiss on her forehead. “He's waiting outside,” he informed her.

Y/n sighed and walked out of the lecture hall and outside. She immediately spotted Edward by his bright lime green car.

“How subtle,” Y/n remarked, approaching the car with its windows down.

“Hello, Y/n. Very nice to see you!” Edward greeted.

Y/n hopped into the passenger seat of the car. “So! Doing favors for Jonathan now?” she asked.

“I owe him... and besides, you're much more fun than that stick in the mud,” Edward replied.

Y/n chuckled as Edward pulled out onto the road.

“I have cities, but no houses. I have mountains, but no trees. I have water, but no fish. What am I?” Edward suddenly posed a riddle.

“Seriously?” Y/n raised her eyebrows, looking at Edward. “A map. What am I, five?”

“I see that one was too easy, you'll never get my next one,” Edward said.

Y/n sighed, this was going to be a long ride.

-

Y/n was mentally exhausted. Being horny for the entire day was hard enough but dWe ealing with Edward's annoying riddles during the 20-minute drive had only added to her frustration. Despite that, she found some enjoyment in Edward's company.

“Would you like to come in?” Y/n asked.

Edward raised his eyebrows. “You really want me to?”

“Well, sure... just no more riddles!” Y/n demanded.

“You ask so much of me,” Edward said, hopping out of the car.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “You’ll live.”

They entered the warehouse, and Edward looked around, whistling in appreciation. “I see you’ve done some work around here,” he remarked.

“You like it?” Y/n asked.

“Much better than Jonathan’s old place. He’s never been the decorative type,” Edward said.

As Y/n led Edward Nigma into the warehouse, she offered, "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

Edward's eyes gleamed with interest. "Ah, the elixir of intellectual stimulation. I'd love one, thank you."

She stared at him for a second, judging his choice of words before walking off. Y/n guided him to a makeshift kitchen area where she had set up a coffee maker. She busied herself with the task of brewing coffee while Edward observed her surroundings, his eyes darting from one detail to another.

Handing him a steaming cup, Y/n took a seat across from Edward at a small table. "Sorry that you had to take me home? Well, not really, you paid it all back by tormenting me with riddles on the drive"

Edward grinned, sipping the coffee. "Well, my riddles are a delight, thank you. Jonathan asked me to ensure you get home safely. You're important to him, you know."

Y/n raised an eyebrow. "I guess even Gotham rogues like yourself have a softer side."

Edward chuckled. "You know.. I’m surprised you even stayed."

Y/n maintained her smile, though it held a hint of frustration. "Well... We were friends before everything," she reiterated, trying to explain her perspective.

Edward continued stirring the conversation provocatively. "You sure it's not... Stockholm Syndrome?" he questioned, his finger tracing the rim of his coffee cup.

"No, it's not. He didn't really kidnap me," Y/n replied, laughter accompanied by a hint of stiffness.

Edward pressed further, bringing up the topic of the infamous bells. "Jonathan told me about the bells..."

"That doesn't matter anymore, he took them off. See!" Y/n shook her feet around, emphasizing that they made no sounds.

Edward, persistent in his scepticism, offered a backhanded suggestion. "I'd say you should see a psychiatrist, but I just think you'd find your way back to Jona-"

"Okay, Edward! I get it!" Y/n interjected, her smile tight-lipped, signalling an end to the topic.

Edward chuckled to himself, savouring a sip from his mug, as Y/n subtly redirected the conversation. "So yeah, I did up a nice kitchen and bathroom," she stated.

He observed his surroundings before responding, "Yes, it's a very nice kitchen."

As they continued chatting over coffee, Y/n was able to ignore the throbbing between her thighs for a couple of hours.

-

As the sun began to set, Y/n sat on the couch, her legs crossed and her eyes fixed on the TV screen. She was getting restless. It had been nearly 5 pm now, and Jonathan still hadn't come home. Edward had left a couple of hours ago, leaving Y/n with little to no distractions. 

She had tried to read, but her mind kept wandering. She had taken a long shower, hoping to relieve some of her tension, but it hadn't helped. Y/n had been feeling a sense of desperation building up inside her. It was like her body was craving something that she couldn't get on her own.

She needed Jonathan. She needed him to make her feel complete. But for now, she was left to her own devices. She sighed and leaned back against the couch, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths. She needed to relax.

She flipped up her skirt and slipped her fingers down her underwear, touching herself in a way that made her shiver with excitement. Her hands moved slowly and sensually over her body. She moaned softly, feeling her core throbbing with anticipation. She rubbed her pussy in circles, her hips bucking against her touch. Her eyes fluttered close. She needed to cum. She needed it badly.

The TV was blaring, and Y/n was so lost in her own world that she didn't even hear the door open. She was knuckles deep and close to orgasm.

“Well!” a voice from in front of her spoke loudly. She suddenly gasped, opening her eyes and shaking in fright.

It was Jonathan, standing in front of her with a disapproving look on his face.

"You said you had until 5," he said, looking at his wrist watch. "It's only 4:51."

Y/n shook her head, trying to regain her composure. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice shaking. 

Jonathan shook his head, disappointed. "You think you can just do as you please?" he asked, his voice low and menacing.

Y/n shook her head, her eyes wide with fear. "No, no. Of course not," she said, trying to pacify him.

"Looks like you don't want to cum tonight," Jonathan said.

Y/n begged, grabbing onto Jonathan's arm. "No, please!" she said, her voice shaking. Jonathan didn't say anything else.

He just picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. She screamed as he took her up the stairs and dropped her back on the bed.

"What am I going to do with such a naughty patient like you?" he asked, looking down at her. 

"Anything, Doctor," Y/n said, her voice shaking. "Just let me cum."

Jonathan sighed, feeling frustrated. He wanted to punish Y/n and not let her cum, but he could also see that she was desperate too.

"I'll let you cum," he said, "but you listen to me. I'm in charge."

Y/n nodded her head quickly. "Thank you, Dr. Crane," she said, her voice almost breathless.

Jonathan climbed onto the bed, hovering above Y/n. "You're going to cum three times," he said, "with no breaks, okay?"

Y/n nodded her head quickly. "Good," Jonathan said, his tone firm.

He straightened his back, removed his jacket, and rolled up his sleeves. "Move up a bit," he said, gesturing for Y/n to sit back further on the bed.

Y/n moved up, giving Jonathan more room below her. He knelt in front of her, his eyes fixed on her bare pussy.

"You're going to cum," he said, his voice seductive. "And you're going to enjoy every second of it."

Jonathan grabbed Y/n's legs and rested them over his shoulders. He brought his face closer to her pussy, inhaling the scent of her arousal. Y/n's eyes were filled with desperation as she watched him get closer and closer to her wet cunt. Jonathan licked her slowly, taking his time to tease her. He licked up and down her slit, making sure to hit all the right spots. Y/n moaned, her hips bucking against his touch.

His tongue danced around her clit, circling it slowly before dipping down to her entrance. Y/n cried out, arching her back as she felt him eat her out. Jonathan's tongue was magic, teasing and tormenting her. Y/n wriggled underneath him, trying to get closer to his mouth. She needed him to make her cum. Jonathan smiled to himself as he continued to eat her out, his eyes fixed on her pussy. He knew he had her right where he wanted her.

“Fuck, Dr. Crane!” Y/n moaned, gripping Jonathan’s hair.

Jonathan stuck his tongue into Y/n's entrance, pushing it in as far as he could. Y/n let out a sharp gasp, her eyes widening with surprise. He moved his tongue around, making circles and figure-eights inside her. Y/n bucked underneath him, her hips pushing against his face. Jonathan smiled, feeling her walls clench around his tongue.

He was driving her wild, and he knew it. Y/n moaned, her voice thick with arousal. She could feel her orgasm building, and she knew she was going to explode. Jonathan licked her until she could no longer take it. He pulled his tongue out of her, watching as she cried out in frustration. He smiled, knowing he had complete control over her pleasure. Y/n was his to do with as he pleased.

Jonathan withdrew his mouth, adjusting his glasses as he looked up at her. "Enjoying yourself, my pretty patient?" he asked with a smirk.

“Mhmm, yes, Dr. Crane.” Y/n bit her lips, looking down at him.

Jonathan began to finger her, pushing two fingers into her wet pussy. Y/n gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head. He moved his fingers in and out, stretching her walls and driving her wild. Y/n moaned, her hips pushing against his hand. Jonathan smiled, feeling her tighten around his fingers.

He sucked her clit, teasing it with his tongue. Y/n moaned, her hips bucking against his touch. Jonathan's fingers moved in and out of her, hitting all the right spots.

"You're such a desperate girl," Jonathan said.

"Please, Dr. Crane," Y/n said, her voice shaking with excitement.

"I need it." Jonathan smiled, feeling his cock harden at the sound of her voice.

He knew he had her right where he wanted her. "You're going to cum," he said. "And you're going to enjoy every second of it." Jonathan continued to eat her out, his tongue dancing around her pussy.

Y/n moaned, her hips bucking against his touch. "You like that?" he asked, looking up at her. "You like the way I'm making you feel?"

Y/n nodded her head quickly, her eyes fixed on his face. "Yes," she said, her voice thick with arousal. "Please, don't stop."

Y/n's body tensed, her walls clenched around his fingers, and her face contorted in pleasure. Jonathan smiled, feeling her orgasm build. He knew he was driving her wild. Y/n cried out, her body shuddering with pleasure. Her walls pulsed around his fingers, and her cunt spasmed on his tongue. Jonathan continued to eat her out, his tongue moving in circles around her clit. Y/n moaned, her body convulsing at his touch. She rolled her eyes back in her head, feeling the intensity of her orgasm. It was like nothing they had ever experienced before.

Y/n was coming down from her high, her eyes fixed on Jonathan's face. He smiled, knowing she was addicted to his touch. Jonathan's tongue was still on her, lapping up her juices seeping out. She whimpered, pushing his head away lightly.

"No use in that," Jonathan began to unbuckle his pants, his cock already hardening at the sight of her. "I've got all night with you." 

Jonathan pulled his pants down just past his hips, revealing his hard cock to Y/n. She admired it, her eyes fixed on the sight. He stroked it slowly, the dick already slick with her juices from his fingers. Jonathan lifted her legs onto his shoulders, the position she would learn to love. He lined himself up at her entrance, his cock pressing against her wet pussy. He slowly pushed in, watching as Y/n gasped. He smiled, feeling her walls clench around his cock.

Jonathan leaned over top of her, his lips brushing against her ear. "You’re so beautiful?"

Jonathan began thrusting into Y/n, his hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm. His hand roamed up the side of her legs, gripping her ankle. He felt the scars on her ankles and rubbed his thumb over them soothingly. Y/n moaned, her body arching into his touch. She reached up to unbutton his shirt, but he grabbed her wrists and held them above her head.

"I'm in control," he said, his voice firm. "You're mine to do with as I please." Y/n whimpered, her body shuddering with pleasure.

“Sorry, Dr. Crane,” Y/n said, breathlessly.

Jonathan's erection was big and hard, sliding in and out of Y/n's pussy. The feeling of his cock hitting her walls sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She could feel every inch of him as he pounded her. The sound of their flesh slapping together filled the room.

Y/n's head fell back and her eyes were closed tightly as she enjoyed the ride. Jonathan's breath was heavy as he groaned, continuing to thrust into her. He'd never felt something more heavenly, he knew he'd be addicted to the feeling of being inside of her. He continued to thrust, hitting the sweet spots inside of her.

In the position she was in, with her legs over his shoulders and arms above her head, Y/n was at Jonathan’s whim completely and she loved it. She felt his every stroke deep inside her, the burn in her pussy building with each thrust. His musky scent filled her nostrils, and she couldn't help but moan in ecstasy as the heat between them grew.

“You're such a good patient, Y/n,” he whispered against her ear, his hot breath making her wetter. Jonathan's words sent shivers down Y/n's spine.

Y/n couldn't help but moan in response, arching her back as his cock hit her sweet spot again and again.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped, “I'm your patient, Dr. Crane.”

With that, he fucked her harder, taking him deep inside her as she called out his name. Jonathan's thrusts grew harder and faster, his hips pistoning into Y/n's pussy with a force that made her gasp. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, his eyes locked on hers.

Y/n's head fell back as she felt the burn in her pussy grow, her breath coming in short gasps. With each thrust, Jonathan's cock hit her sweet spot, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She cried out in ecstasy, her nails digging into her palms as she urged him on.

Y/n felt her second orgasm building, her breath coming in short, heavy gasps. Jonathan's cock was still inside her, his eyes locked on hers as he watched her writhe in pleasure.

“Aww, is my little patient about to cum?” Jonathan mocked.

She had no time to answer when her body began shaking all over again, underneath Jonathan. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her, leaving her panting and weak in his arms. Jonathan kept up his pace, his cock hitting her sweet spot with every thrust. Y/n couldn't help but wonder how he was able to hold on for so long without cumming himself.

Y/n felt overstimulated, her senses on overload. Jonathan's cock was still pumping in her, his eyes locked on hers as he watched her writhe in pleasure, Jonathan fucked her harder and faster through her orgasm.

“Doctor, it's too much!” she gasped.

But Jonathan was unmoved. ”I don't care what it is, I'm gonna make you cum two more times,” he growled, his eyes locked on hers.

“B-but I've already cum twice! You said three!” Y/n cried. 

“I changed my mind,” Jonathan replied, his voice low and sultry.

Y/n knew that if she said stop, he'd listen immediately. But she loved the idea that Jonathan was doing this all by force, his cock buried deep inside her as he pounded into her.

Jonathan suddenly flipped her over, Y/n lying on her stomach. Jonathan hovered above her from behind, lining himself up before pushing inside of her again. His body weight above her kept her in place, giving her nowhere to move.

Y/n felt the heat of his breath against her neck as he growled, "You're mine," into her ear. 

She couldn't help but shiver, feeling so desired and taken. As he pounded into her, Y/n couldn't help but cry out in pleasure and overstimulation, her body responding to his every move. The pallets holding the bed up slammed against the floor, the sound echoing through the warehouse.

His hands gripped her hips tightly, his fingers digging into her skin as he pumped into her. Y/n pressed on the mattress, feeling the heavy thud of his cock against her pussy. Jonathan's face was beaded with sweat, he enveloped Y/n in a warm embrace, his arms encircling her shoulders and waist, securing her close to him with a tender grip.

Y/n gripped his arm and sat around her shoulder, trying to hold on to reality. Tears pricked her eyes as Jonathan pounded into her. Y/n could feel his cock slide in and out of her, his balls slapping against her ass cheeks. It was intense, and Y/n couldn't help but beg for more.

Her voice cracked as she pleaded, “Pleae! Don't stop!” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

His rough features softened as he pressed a kiss to her cheek, just below her eyes, “You're so beautiful.”

Their breaths came in short gasps as he pounded into her, his movements becoming haphazard. Jonathan's movements became unsteady as he neared his own orgasm, his breath coming in short gasps. Y/n felt his weight shift as he slammed into her, his expression twisting into a snarl. It was a surprise his glasses never fell off with how animalistic he was.

“F-fuck, I need to pull out,” Jonathan shuddered.

But Y/n held onto his arm tightly, not allowing him to move. “No! Please, Dr. Crane! Don’t pull out.”

Jonathan's muscles tensed, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he came, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. Y/n felt him pulse inside her, his hot cum filling her hole. But he didn't slow down, his thrusts becoming even more forceful as he continued to pound into her, ignoring his own overstimulation.

Jonathan's cum seeped out of her while he continued to pound into her, the sticky liquid dripping down her mound. Y/n had no time to think before her third orgasm came crashing down on her like a wave as Jonathan's thrusts grew even more frenzied. She cried out his name, her voice lost in the storm of pleasure that coursed through her body as her heart pounded in her chest.

Jonathan looked down at Y/n, her eyes glazed over and her body trembling with overstimulation.

“That's three,” he whispered, his voice rough with lust. “You can give me another one.”

Y/n couldn't form a coherent thought, her mind lost in a haze of pleasure as she felt Jonathan's cock pumping in and out of her. All she could do was moan and blabber.

"Is my patient all dumb, hmm?" Jonathan's voice was a low rumble as he held her face in his hand.

Y/n couldn't speak properly, her eyes rolling back into her head as he continued to thrust deep into her. She could feel his smile against her cheek as he looked down at her, the corners of his lips curling up in amusement.

Y/n's cunt was so overstimulated that it was numb with each thrust, but she could feel all the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through her body. She knew she wouldn't last much longer, her orgasm building up inside her like a storm brewing on the horizon.

“Fuck, already throbbing around me,” Jonathan muttered, mocking her. 'My sweet little patient is about to cum again, and it hasn't even been two minutes."

Jonathan felt his second orgasm nearing as Y/n was nearing her fourth. He gritted his teeth, his eyes darkening as he continued to pound into her.

“That's it, patient,” he muttered, his voice rough with desire. “Let it all out.”

Y/n's body arched sharply as her fourth orgasm crashed over her like a wave, her sobs of pleasure echoing in the room as Jonathan's own orgasm hit him like a bolt of lightning. He growled out her name, his heart pounding in his chest as he came, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. They were both left panting and gasping for air, their bodies still pulsing with pleasure as they stared at each other in awe.

Jonathan stopped fucking Y/n and just held her, their bodies still pulsing with pleasure as they lay in a tangle of sweat-soaked sheets.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his voice rough with emotion as he whispered, “You did well, Y/n… my pretty patient..” 

Jonathan gently pulled out, tenderly turning her over. In her dazed state, he handled her with utmost care, cradling her in his arms. Y/n snuggled closer to Jonathan, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Their clothes, damp with sweat, clung to their bodies.

"Do you want my help having a shower?" Jonathan inquired of Y/n.

"Mhmm, later," Y/n whimpered.

"You really should freshen up, my Dear," Jonathan insisted.

"I can barely fucking think, let alone stand. Later, please," Y/n whined, her eyes closed.

Jonathan sighed. “Hour rest, then you’re showering.” 

“Okay, Dr. Crane,” Y/n murmurs, jokingly.

Jonathan chuckled softly, shaking his head, and simply held her close. Both of them knew that sex would now play a significant role in their relationship now, as neither could get enough of each other.

-

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked it. I plan to make some more for this series and feel free to request other stories too. I can't imagine it being a long series but I do have plans to write more. 💚

I began writing the smut scene while the poll was still going, so I started with calling Jonathan Professor Crane as it was in front but it ended up being Dr. Crane in the end, so I adapted to that, thank you everyone for voting in that poll, I appreciate the help :)

[fishandships]

Hi!! Just wanna say your art is super amazing!! I honestly been inspired by it a lot and I’ve tried to draw Rosario multiple times because their hair really intrigues me! I haven’t succeeded, but it’s fun to try! I found you via Identity V fan art, but I’ve learned to love the other stuff you’ve posted non-IDV related! Mostly because it’s your style that makes it amazing! In my opinion your art is very warm and calming, almost domestic— it’s lovely!! Anyways!! Sorry for rambling! I just wanted to let you know because your art has made me want to improve my own!! And indulge in oc/canons!! (Specifically with Antonio Paganini—)

anon this ask touched me so much this was so kind of you to say ;w; i'm so happy to hear you like my OC (and i would LOVE to see your art of them if you ever feel comfortable showing it!) and your description of my art almost made me tear up, that's EXACTLY what i'm going for and i'm so glad it comes across! thank you so so much 💚

i'm also REALLY glad to hear that my work inspires you, too! if you ever want to chat about your own ship i would love to hear about it! in the meantime please accept this lil doodle i did for you as thanks 💚

[gayometer]

Hi! Sooo, I was browsing the # of snv/ror x reader and found your blog. - I loved! I was wondering if I could get some headcanons for Gods and Humans w/ a strong personality y/n? Like the idfg y/n, pls. Sorry for my bad english & kisses from Brazil! ^ - ^ [ btw, could you please tag me if you do? My Tumblr aren't showing me notifications those days T v T ]

Not tired, just doesn't care

Glad you like my blog! Your english is fine! Kisses from P.R. ❤

💚Ask💚

💚 @msnightmare777 💚

POSEIDON who tries his best to not show his frustration, how dare a mere human like you be so casual about him? It takes him a while to understand it's not disrespect it's friendship and you just have a strong personality, tough love if you will.

HADES who sees so many similarities between you two yet so many differences, you're not mean you can be pretty caring. But the way you so casually talk and even slap gods is amusing to him.

ADAMAS who tried to be all angry and grumpy with you but ended up being the biggest puppy. He comes to you when Hades isn't available, he doesn't know what it is but you kinda remind him of his big brother.

ZEUS who pokes fun at you just cause he knows you won't do anything, he doesn't try to "break" your facade and annoys you the same way he does Odin....by making you babysit him and essentially give him scary dog privileges.

APHRODITE who tries to get any reaction out of you, she isn't used to someone looking at her and not at least smiling.

HERMES who pokes you just for fun, he says it's to get a reaction out of you but we all know he does it for the funsies.

HERACLES who rants to you about anything that comes to his mind, he likes your strong personality and how you so casually talk to him, it's a breathe of fresh air.

ARES who started off with seeing you as a disrespecting mortal to then come to the conclusion that you're a glorified babysitter taking care of beings much older then yourself, including him.

LOKI who bugs you on a daily to try and get a reaction out of you, he obviously fails miserably but at least give him points for effort. He hasn't had this much trouble with a mortal since Jack bamboozled him about tea.

THOR who doesn't pay much attention to you, he doesn't mind your "attitude", high chance it's Forseti causing more noise about respect then Thor himself.

ODIN who much like Thor doesn't mind all that much about hoe indifferent you are however, unlike Thor he has limits. His crows are still the ones causing way too much noise about respect and shit, but if he does eventually get bothered by the "disrespect" he'll just get up and leave. He's not a child and can leave places if he feels like it, so shut up you two bird brains.

SHIVA who can and will make you join him and Rudra dance. He also tries to break your facade but that doesn't work. Shiva is pretty chill about most things but is still slightly irked that you have absolutely no reaction to being face to face with a god that uses the earth as his animal crossing island.

BUDDHA who just vibes under a tree with you, you both don't talk and just enjoy being close to each other.

ZERO who is basically your unofficial child, he's the only one who can make you break away from the tough love and "indifference" just by being himself.

BEELZEBUB who tries to keep his distance from you since he's afraid he'll get attached. He doesn't hate you, he just doesn't want to kill his new friend.

SASAKI who's normal cheery and laid-back attitude made you gravitate to him. His grandpa vibes give you more then enough comfort.

QIN who is adamant in making you his friend, no you can't escape him and the power of friendship shall be blasted upon thou.

ADAM who has the same nature and therefore doesn't mind, you're his child and that's that.

TESLA who took your silence as the greenlight to go on a rant about science and his latest inventions, you two have an odd friendship, he rants and you listen.

LU BU who normally wouldn't go out of his way to befriend some, but he hasn't had someone who doesn't run or worship him immediately in a while. Can you fight? Cause he wants to fight you.

RAIDEN who takes his time to stare at you, he yaps your ear off but he's also staring at you without blinking to make sure you don't "make a cute face" without him seeing....apparently it's not fair Thrud can see you crack a smile or giggle.

JACK who would normally stick to himself will try to socialize with you, he ended up enjoying you silent company and is one of the few who managed to get a smile and full sentence out of you.

[corroded-hellfire]

So, that Birthday Girl fic...could we get a follow-up called Birthday Boy about Reader exploring Eddie's kinks on his birthday? Love you to the moon and back xoxoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚

Here you go, my friend! It's my first time writing sub!Eddie so I hope I did some justice to this request. I love you toooo!

In the same universe as Birthday Girl

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up), oral f receiving, sub!eddie, Dom!reader, I think that’s it?

Words: 3.9k

Eddie never liked to make a big deal out of his birthday, even though he loved to make a whole special day for yours. It didn’t seem fair, so when Eddie told you he didn’t really want anything for his birthday, you just raised an eyebrow at him. You know growing up his family didn’t have a lot of money, meaning celebrating his birthday never came with a big hoopla. But now that you’re older and have both of your paychecks contributing to the comfortable living situation you have in your apartment, it’s time he let you spoil him. 

Obviously, you knew his favorite cake was Funfetti and you had all the ingredients ready to make it. Eddie still wouldn’t budge on giving you any gift ideas, though. So, you’ll have to improvise. Shopping at the mall doesn’t really help you at all. The last store to explore is Spencer’s, and you didn’t have a whole lot of hope you’d find something in there for him either. And you’re right, you don’t – but you do get a spark of inspiration when you see a pair of furry handcuffs hanging on a display wrack. The ones that Eddie used as a belt buckle in high school are in your apartment somewhere, probably Eddie’s dresser. Those could come in handy.

Eddie’s not shy, that’s for sure. So you had definitely noticed when he became more subdued whenever the subject of sex came up lately. At first you could just write it off as him having a bad day at work. But when it happens a second and third time, you know there was something to it. You two were still having sex. A lot of it, actually, and it was really good. But he seemed to clam up whenever it was talked about. 

One night as he went to tug your sleep shorts off, you stopped him and asked if he wanted to talk about anything. He looked confused, wondering why this popped into your head while he was trying to undress you. You told him that you noticed how he had been acting and that you wanted to help him. The fact that he seemed embarrassed baffled you. Eddie? Embarrassed? You’d never even heard those two words in the same sentence before. 

Finally, though, Eddie opened up and told you what had been on his mind. Sometimes when the two of you brought out the kinkier aspects while you were having sex, Eddie was good at dominating you. Telling you what to do, making you beg, things like that. And he loved doing that, he assured you, but he said that he thought he’d like to try a role reversal and see how it felt for you to be the dominating one. 

The fact that Eddie had become quiet over a kink he wanted to explore floored you. This man has never been shy about telling you anything before. But it seemed like this was part of the role he wanted to play in bed. The quiet, timid one who is told what to do and when to do it. And the more you thought about it, the more you liked the idea of it. So, seeing those furry handcuffs at Spencer’s reminded you that you had a whole other gift you could give Eddie for his birthday. You were still determined to find a physical gift, though. 

When Eddie comes home from work, you’re ready for him. He walks in the front door of your apartment and rolls out his neck. Teaching guitar brought him immense joy, but having to look down at his student’s fingers on the strings can take a toll on his neck after a long week. 

“Babe?” Eddie calls into the apartment. He shrugs his leather jacket off and hangs it on the peg near the door. “You home?”

“Bedroom.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows at your tone. It wasn’t you calling out to let him know where you were, it was a demand. He kicks his boots off and heads down the hall. When he pokes his head into your room, he doesn’t see you at first. Then he glimpses you near the closet and steps inside.

“Hey, baby,” he says, but stops short when he sees what you’re wearing. The cropped Corroded Coffin tee is something he’s seen you wearing many times before but seeing you in only that and a black thong has his brain malfunctioning. “Happy birthday to me indeed.”

Determined not to get flustered lest it take away from the domineering effect, you jut your hip out to the side, trying to stave off the heat you feel rising to your cheeks, and hold up your index finger that has Eddie’s handcuffs dangling from it. 

Your boyfriend shoots you a smirk and steps forward to take them from you, assuming you’ll be the one confined by them. But with a quick twist of your wrist, you have one of the cuffs securely around Eddie’s wrist.

“Uh, what?” Eddie asks.

“I think you should be the one getting cuffed tonight, birthday boy.” You grab the bottom of his black Dio t-shirt and lift it over his head, assisting him in getting the clanging cuffs untangled from the material as well. When your eyes flicker down to his pants, Eddie takes the hint and rides himself of his jeans and boxers as well. “Bed. Now.”

The immediate change of demeanor in Eddie would be subtle to anyone else, but you notice all the little details that add up to this submissive version of your boyfriend. His chin has tucked in, shoulders slightly hunched, making himself seem smaller as he peers at you from underneath his thick eyelashes. But he still doesn’t move. You take a step closer and yank him forward by the waistband of his jeans. “I said now.”

Eddie turns from you to get on the bed, sitting on the foot of it and looking at you with his wide doe eyes. 

“Good boy. Now lay back.” He does as he’s told, and you can’t help but smirk. “Get your ass up there so I can hook the cuffs through the headboard.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You wrinkle your nose at the term. It reminds you too much of work. 

“I don’t think I like that name, baby.” Eddie obediently raises his arms above his head, and you straddle his hips to secure the cuffs through the wooden slats of the headboard, then lock his other wrist in the metal. “Any other names you might wanna call me?”

Eddie's shy expression and the fact that he looks everywhere but your face tells you that there is.

“Come on, sweetie. Tell me.” When he stays quiet, you lean down and grab a hold of his chin, forcing him to look you in the eye. “I won’t ask again.”

“My goddess,” Eddie squeaks out and the words go straight between your legs. 

“Yes,” you say, eyes going wide as you momentarily slip out of the character, admiring the name. How much you’d enjoy being called that. Eddie’s goddess. It’s clear he’s pleased that you like the name as well, his hips wiggling underneath where you’re sitting on top of him. 

Leaning down, you press soft kisses along Eddie’s neck. He lets out a content hum and lets his eyes slip closed. You sink your teeth into his skin, causing him to yelp and open his eyes.

“Keep your eyes on me,” you warn him. 

“Y-Yes, my goddess,” Eddie says, the black of his eyes swallowing the brown whole. 

“Good boy,” you praise, pressing a soft kiss over the bite mark you just left. Climbing off his body, you keep the kisses going lower and lower. You flick your eyes up to make sure Eddie’s still watching you, and he is like the good boy you want him to be. But you notice his teeth digging into his bottom lip. With a frown, you reach up and ease his poor bitten lip free.

“Wanna hear all your pretty noises, birthday boy.”

As if only waiting for your permission, small whines and whimpers start to fall from Eddie as you continue the soft kisses down his body. When you trace your tongue down his happy trail, Eddie’s hips buck. 

“I’m sorry,” he’s quick to say. The wide, imploring eyes he’s looking down at you with almost makes you break character and assure him it’s okay. But that’s not what he wants. 

“If it happens again, I’m going to stop,” you warn him. 

“Yes, my goddess.”

Throwing him another warning look, you pepper light pecks down his shaft, starting to enjoy the feeling of being in charge like this. The sound of the handcuffs rattling against the wooden slats in the headboard has you glancing up to see tears flooding Eddie’s eyes, which has your heart plummeting. He knows you and is able to read your face immediately, so before you can even open your mouth, he speaks.

“Green. Green light,” he assures you.

Taking a breath to calm yourself, you nod, and go back to giving feather light touches to Eddie’s cock. The moment your tongue darts out to lick at the dot of precum beading at the head, his hips snap up again, forcing you to pull your mouth away entirely.

“What did I tell you?” you ask.

“That-That if it happens again, you’ll stop,” he answers sheepishly. 

“That’s right, baby.” You sigh and sit back on your heels. “Gonna put you to work now.”

“Work?” he asks, voice wobbling. When thinking of what you could do to make Eddie’s birthday surprise even more special, you recalled one thing that your boyfriend always tried to talk you into doing. It’s not that you didn’t want to, it just made you feel a little self-conscious. 

“Mhmm,” you hum as you crawl up his body. “Now you’re just going to have to lay there while you bring me pleasure.”

Eddie’s brow crinkles as he thinks, but when he realizes what you mean, his face lights up. Quickly, he tries to tamper down the joy on his face to stay more in his role.

“You’re going to sit on my face, my goddess?”

“I am. And you’re going to make me cum, right?”

“Yes,” he says, nodding his head emphatically. “I promise, I’ll make you feel so good.”

All you do is raise an eyebrow at him before you strip yourself of your thong and situate yourself, which takes a little maneuvering with his arms secured above his head. Thighs holding your core right above his mouth, you feel the flutter of nerves in your stomach. Your loving boyfriend, as attuned to you as ever, can sense your trepidation.

“Please?” Eddie whimpers. The pure want in his voice has you lowering yourself onto his mouth, his hot tongue instantly gliding between your folds. You grip the headboard for stability, a gasp leaving your lips as Eddie’s sinfully skilled mouth works against your pussy. Knuckles turning white from holding the wood so tightly, you drop your head back and let out a string of moans mixed in with Eddie’s name. 

“Fuck, your mouth is perfect,” you say. He hums against you as he flicks his tongue over your clit, and the vibrations send a tantalizing shiver through your body. Eddie’s tongue pulls away and you hear him try to say something against your heat. It makes you giggle, and you raise yourself up.

“Come again?” You smirk at your own double entendre. 

“Want you to ride my face, my goddess. Use me.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You lower yourself back to Eddie’s mouth and start to rock your hips forward. When your clit brushes against his nose, sparks flood your vision.

“God, you’re going to make me cum, baby,” you say as you keep rutting against his face. Eddie hums encouragingly beneath you, tongue lapping at your dripping core. “Ah, shit. I’m coming.”

Eddie helps you ride out your orgasm, moaning and licking as your hips finally come to a halt. With panting breaths, you pull yourself off of your boyfriend’s mouth and collapse down next to him. A smile is sewn onto your face as you close your eyes and try to catch your breath. When you turn your head and search for that warm brown gaze that you’re so fond of, you’re greeted by the sight of Eddie’s mouth and chin glistening from your release. 

“My goddess, you taste so good.”

Unable to help yourself, you push yourself up on an elbow and lean in to press your mouth against his. The taste of yourself invades your senses as you snake your tongue into his mouth.

“Mm, you’re right,” you hum against his lips. “Now, since you refused to listen to me before, you don’t get my mouth. But lucky for you, I want that big cock inside of me so bad.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see said cock twitch in anticipation. The poor thing has been neglected tonight. You were only touching it briefly before Eddie broke your rule, you were sitting on Eddie’s mouth, nowhere near his dick, and Eddie can’t even touch it himself because he’s cuffed to the bed. 

Pushing yourself up, you eye his red, aching dick as it stands proud and tall.

“Your cock is so pretty, Eddie,” you tell him, making it twitch again. A self-satisfied smirk comes to your face as you move yourself down the bed and straddle Eddie’s abdomen, just close enough where his cock brushes up against your back, but not hard enough to provide him with any relief. Looking down at his face, it’s flushed red and pinched into a pout. Softly, you rub a hand up and down his chest. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“Say what, my goddess?” Eddie asks, voice cracking over the question.

“That your cock is pretty.”

His face turns even redder and he turns to try and bury his head in his arm. A sharp pinch to his nipple has him turning back to you with a small yelp. 

“Look at me. And tell me your cock is pretty.”

“My c-cock is pretty,” Eddie lets out in a breathy moan. His eyes don’t leave yours. 

“Again.”

“My cock is pretty.”

“Yes, it is,” you say, a smile curling on your lips. “It’s so pretty and it deserves some attention, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” Eddie nods his head, tongue darting out to lick over his lips. 

You push yourself back so you’re hovering over his cock, but not touching it at all.

“Tell me, baby,” you purr. “Who makes you feel good?”

“Y-You do, my goddess.” 

His reward is you slowly sinking yourself down on his throbbing cock. 

Eddie whines, going to bite his lip, but he remembers that you want to hear him, so he just lets the sounds of pleasure flow freely from his mouth. Once you’re fully seated on him, his cock stretching you out in the most delicious way, you brace your hands on his chest and begin to lift your hips. By the way Eddie’s fists are clenched against the headboard and the way his cock is twitching against your walls, you know he’s not going to last long. Might as well have some fun with it, you figure.

“You like it? Feels good?” you ask.

“S’so good,” Eddie says. 

“Tell me how it feels, my birthday boy.”

No sound comes from Eddie’s mouth, even though it’s hanging open and his glossy brown eyes are trained on you. He must sense you’re about to scold him, because he starts sputtering out sounds before he can finally manage words.

“Feels so tight,” Eddie moans. “You’re so damn tight, my goddess. So warm. So wet.” 

His words have you rocking your hips a little faster, clit rubbing against the patch of coarse dark curls at the bottom of Eddie’s happy trail. 

“Tell me again,” you say, eyes slipping closed. “Who makes you feel like this?”

“You,” Eddie says through a whimper. “Only you. You’re the only one who can make me feel this good.”

“That’s right,” you say, grinding your hips down harder against Eddie’s. “You’re all mine. You belong to me.” 

“I’m yours,” Eddie agrees, eyes slipping closed in pleasure. “All yours.”

“No other pussy can do this. Make you almost cry,” you say, on the verge of taunting. 

“Don’t want any other pussy,” Eddie says, his curls bouncing as he shakes his head on the pillow. “Just this perfect pussy. Your perfect pussy, my goddess.” 

When Eddie opens his eyes, you can see the fucked out expression on his face. He’s so close, you can feel it. 

“Look at me while you come, baby,” you say. Obediently, his eyes lock on yours, and the way his abdominal muscles tighten up under your hands lets you know he’s about to come. Desperate the chase your release at the same time as him, you speed up your hips, the friction against your clit sending you spiraling.

“I’m gonna come too, baby,” you tell him. “Come with me. Like a good boy, yeah?”

“Uh huh,” Eddie moans out, nodding as he keeps his eyes locked on yours. 

“Okay, sweetheart,” you say, the beginnings of your orgasm crashing over you. “Let go.”

It’s all Eddie needs to hear as his hips stutter up into yours, his warm seed coating your spasming walls. Your bodies keep moving against one another as you ride out the storm. Once you start to feel overstimulated, you still your hips and drop down to Eddie’s chest, both of you panting as you try and catch your breath. 

“Holy shit, babe,” Eddie says once he’s able to. “That was so fucking hot.”

“Yeah?” you look up at him through your eyelashes. “You liked it? I mean, it was only my first time doing it. So, you can tell me what you liked and didn’t like, and I can do better.”

Instinctively, Eddie goes to cup your face in his hands, but he’s still cuffed to the bedpost. 

“Can you let me go?” Eddie asks with a laugh.

“Hmm, what if I lost the key?” you ask with a smirk. The pair of you wince in unison as you pull yourself off of Eddie, both of you sticky from your combined releases 

“Then I guess you’ll just have to feed me and bathe me. Doesn’t sound so bad, actually,” Eddie says with a shrug.

You giggle and pull the key out of the top drawer of your nightstand. 

“You gotta let me rub your arms, baby,” you say as you unlock the first cuff. Eddie lets out a grateful sigh as he slowly lowers his arm down. 

“I’ll never say no to one of your massages,” he says. His other arm falls free from the cuff, and he lets out a small groan as he brings that arm down as well. 

Putting the cuffs and key back in their proper drawer, you then turn to your dresser and snatch up your bottle of lotion.

“Ooh, is that the one that smells like chocolate?” he asks.

“Hot cocoa, yes, sir,” you say as you pop open the lid. Eddie scoots back so he’s settled against the headboard as you squeeze a dime sized amount of lotion into your palm. 

Eddie’s whole body seems to relax as you work the sweet-smelling lotion over his skin, using your fingers to dig into the sore muscles, trying to stimulate more blood flow there. The moans that leave his lips aren’t sexual, but you can feel a stirring between your legs, nonetheless. 

Once that arm is nice and loosened up, you crawl over to Eddie’s other side and have the same treatment to that arm. Eddie’s eyes are closed, and his head is relaxing back against the wall. 

“Sleepy, baby?” you ask.

“Not really,” he answers. “You’re just relaxing me.”

“Too relaxed for cake?”

His eyes shoot open at that, turning his head to look you in the eye. “Um, never.” It makes you giggle, and you toss the bottle of lotion onto your dresser. 

“Let’s have some of that Funfetti then, baby,” you say, pushing yourself off the bed.

“Just one thing first,” Eddie says as he gets up as well.

“And what’s that?” you ask.

There’s that mischievous glint in his eye again; the one that drives you absolutely wild.

“As much as I love seeing you wearing Corroded Coffin clothes, I like seeing what’s underneath it even more.” He tugs on the bottom of your crop top, and you take the hint to shuck it off. Eddie’s eyes drop immediately to your chest, and it sounds off a round of butterflies in your stomach. 

“Now I’m ready for cake,” he says. 

He follows you out into the kitchen and watches as you get the cake out of the refrigerator, arranging the multicolored candles on top. You’re careful when lighting them not only because you don’t want your hair to get in the way, but you’re also naked and any wax or fire would hurt like hell. 

“Get over here, you,” you say, opening your arms for your boyfriend. He happily slides into your hold, and he rests his head on yours as you sing Happy Birthday to him. He squeezes his eyes closed as he thinks of a wish. Seemingly satisfied with what he’s come up with, Eddie leans in and blows all the candles out in one breath. 

“Happy birthday, baby,” you say, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Thank you, my goddess.”

You giggle at the nickname, your cheeks getting hot.

“Let me give you your present.” 

Eddie’s eyes watch your ass the whole time as you walk over to the hall closet. You put the present down on the table next to the cake, and Eddie tilts his head as he inspects the package. It’s about the same dimensions as a pizza box and he honestly wouldn’t blame you if that’s what you bought him for his birthday since he gave you literally no ideas. 

His thick fingers tear into the red wrapping paper, discarding it to the other side of your small kitchen table. Well, it’s a box but not a pizza box. Just plain and white, giving no indication about what’s inside. Curiosity no longer willing to be patient, Eddie lifts the lid and ruffles through the few layers of tissue paper. His fingertips grace the material inside and he instantly knows what it is, without even having seen it. 

A grin grows on his face as Eddie picks up the article of clothing in his hands, bringing it out of the box and holding it up in front of him. The black leather jacket shines, the gleaming silver buttons catching the light in the kitchen and bouncing it off appliances. 

“Do you like it? I know you already have your favorite one, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to have two!”

Eddie sets the jacket down on the table, making sure to keep it away from the cake and its messiness. He places a hand on each side of your face and pulls your lips to his. 

“I love it. Thank you so, so much, baby.”

“You should try it on,” you tell him.

He picks it back up, inspecting the red lining as he sticks one hand in a sleeve.

“Won’t it look kind of weird that it’s the only thing I’m wearing?” Eddie asks as he slides the other arm through. 

“Oh, baby,” you say, taking a step back to admire your beautiful boyfriend clad in only a new leather jacket. “That just makes it even better.”