#yeah this is a tags talk sit cross legged on the floor with me

[the-official-account]

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[splishfish]

Watch (NSFW)

Tomura Shigaraki x AFAB Reader

Tags: Mutual Masturbation, Fingering, Established Relationship, Use of The Word Slut, Slight Dirty Talk, Good girl is Used Once, Crude Tomura

WC: 943

“You…want to watch me jerk off?”

"Yeah."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You…want to watch me jerk off?” “Yeah.” That simple conversation was what led you two where you were now. Sitting in front of Tomura with your legs crossed together, and him manspreading on the bed, his pants strewn somewhere across the floor. His flaccid penis laid on his balls, an unimpressed expression on his face as he watched you stare at him.

“Your dick is cute…” You mumbled, smiling affectionately at his penis.

A scowl formed on his face, and he glared at you as he grumbled out. “It’s not cute. Don’t call it that.”

A small giggle left your lips, and your eyes trailed up to him curiously. “So…are you gonna jerk off?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he grabbed the base of his cock. He limply wiggled it, muttering. “Show me your tits. I need to get hard.”

You sighed, reaching for the hem of your tanktop and preparing to slide it off when he suddenly stopped you. A look of confusion formed on your face, and he smirked as he spoke.

“No. Like this.” Suddenly, one of his hands grabbed the collar of your top, yanking it down and causing your breasts to spill out and bunch up at the top. You gasped in surprise, shooting a glare at him.

“Seriously?! You’re gonna stretch out my top!” “Shut up. It makes your tits look bigger, so be a good girl and play with ‘em to get me hard.” A scoff escaped your lips, but you didn’t argue. Bringing your hands up to your breasts, you began to gently rub at the softened nubs. You cupped your breasts gently, holding them up as your index fingers drew small circles around them, slowly hardening your nipples into stiff peaks. Once they were hard, you began to slowly pinch and twist them, pulling on the sensitive flesh and letting small muffled noises of pleasure escape your lips.

Your eyes trailed down to his penis, which was slowly beginning to stiffen up. He grabbed the base, pumping his cock at the same pace as your gentle stimulation. He hummed in satisfaction, before speaking again with a casual tone.

“I wanna see your pussy.” “How charming.”

One removal of sweats and underwear later, you sat in bed with Tomura in front of you, and your legs spread wide enough for him to get a good view of your pretty cunt. He groaned once he saw your pretty folds, stroking his cock before pausing. He scrunched his nonexistent eyebrows, before speaking in a puzzled voice. “Why aren’t you wet?” A few minutes of explaining how women aren’t constantly aroused later, Tomura violently fisted himself to the sight of your two fingers snuggly pumping in and out of your pussy. He tilted his head back, a small thunk being heard as his head hit the bed frame. The tip of his cock weeped constantly, precum coating his hand and causing a slick noise to echo through the room. His voice echoed through the room, small moans and cute whines slipping from his chapped lips, a pink hue coating his face and a small sheen of sweat coated his face.

You weren’t any different, two fingers pumping in and out of your now soaked pussy and small moans of pleasure escaping your lips. Hooded eyes locked onto his cock, the red mushroom tip disappearing and reappearing with every thrust of Tomura’s hand. A whiney voice escaped you, muttering in desperation. “Tomu…wanna see you cum…ah…touch your balls for me…please?” A groan of pleasure escaped him, and he squeezed his aching cock as he responded. “Fuck..you’re such a slut…watching me jerk off and telling me to fondle my balls…you like this huh?” You nodded your head, closing your eyes as you brought your second hand up to play with your clit. Small circles rubbed against the throbbing nub, and a loud whine escaped you as you begged in a hoarse voice. “Please…yes…I’m a slut...please..wanna see you cum…” He chuckled weakly, bringing his hand down to squeeze and toy with his balls. He groaned in pleasure, a curse escaping him as he bucked his hips. “Oh fuck…’m gonna cum baby…”

It wasn’t too long after he muttered those words that he squeezed his balls, almost painfully, as he got out rope after rope of cum. It splattered onto his hand, even reaching as far as his shirt, staining it with a white streak. As he panted, still languidly stroking himself, he watched as you finger yourself, desperately attempting to reach your own peak.

Crawling over, he settled besides you, raising your leg up and placing your calf on his shoulder, spreading you wide. A small whine escaped you, and you leaned back to lay on your forearms as he took control. His hand quickly replaced your own, slipping two fingers inside your warmth. A loud moan escaped you, his fingers reaching deeper inside. One of the better things about having Tomura use his hands is how rough they are. His fingers are dry and calloused, scratching your insides in a way that made you curl your toes and scream.

It didn’t take long for him to finally help you reach your climax, your hips bucking up into the air as a broken moan escaped your throat. Your warm heat clenched down on his fingers, causing him to grunt before pulling them out, a string of your arousal sticking to his index and middle finger.

Panting from the blissful experience, you took your leg off his shoulder, before wrapping yourself around him. He grunted before wrapping his arms around you in return, nuzzling his face into your hair.

Did you enjoy this? Check out my Masterlist for more!

aaahh!! I’m slowly figuring out this app! Are the ombré colors cool? ;3

[veilofwinter]

#HATE HOW I LOVE YOU

pairing: Ellie Williams x Reader

tags: hate sex, ellie, and more ellie <3

You HATED Ellie Williams, and hate is not a light word. You hated her hair, you hated her buff yet skinny arms, you hate how her eyes would roll when you walked into a room. You hated how even though you hated her, you loved the sight of her face.

"Dina, you know I hate doing shit with her. She makes everything so miserable." You crossed your arms over your chest, sucking on the lollipop in your mouth. "Look YN, just try, please? I'll talk to her, okay?"

You sigh, rubbing your temples. "Fine, I'll come but if she starts something I can't grantee I won't go off on her ass."

Soon you found yourself in a small circle with Dina, Jesses, and Ellie. "Let's have a drink." Dina suggests, standing to grab the nearby liquor on the table. "Where'd you even get this from?" You ask leaning back. "Does it matter, just drink it." Ellie speaks, glaring at you like she has been the whole time. You take a deep breath, turning toward Dina. "So, where'd you get it from."

"Just pass me the damn liquor Dina." Ellie interrupts Dina. "Ellie can you for once not be a god damn pain in the fucking ass?" You turn to her, giving her a disgusted look. "Me not be a pain in the ass and you're asking dumbass questions, let's just fucking drink." Suddenly you stand. "Okay I'm not doing this. I even tried to ignore her and still she found a way to be a bitch." Ellie stans as well. "You're callin' me a bitch? Have you seen your attitude lately love?"

You throw your hands up in defeat. "I'm leaving." Finally, Dina stands and grabs your arm. "YN no. You're gonna stay in here! You two need to do something about whatever the hell this weird ass beef is!" I roll my eyes, "I'm not going to stay here and try to make up with her, it's not like she listens." Ellie tries to rush you, but Jesse grabs her. "Okay can everyone just calm the fuck down?!"

Dina takes a deep breath. "You two are going to sit in here and you're going to fucking make up." You shake your head. "I'm not doing that shit." Ellie laughs. "Yeah right, I'm not sitting in a room with her alone." You glare at her, crossing your arms against your chest. “Dina, I swear to go-“ Dina places her hand over your mouth.

“You both are going to stay in this damn room, and you're going to make the hell up.” She fake smiles, grabbing Jesse. You chase after her, “Dina-“ She slams the door in your face and locks it. “Make. Up!” She yells.

Now you sit face to face with Ellie, the silence piercing through the room. “Look, I ain’t plannin’ to make up. So, let’s just pretend we’re cool and leave it at that.” She leans back in the most enticing way, her legs spreading the just right amount.

You struggle to keep your eyes from raining to in between her legs. “I can’t even pretend to like you.” You say rolling your eyes to look away. “You can’t pretend to like me, but you can pretend like you weren’t just staring in between my legs?” She smirks, sitting up and leaning down against her knees.

Your face heats up and you avoid eye contact. “I wasn’t ev-“ Ellie laughs, “Damn and then you lie about it? I thought you were bolder than that.” You glare at her. “You’re so cocky, you must think everyone likes looking in between your legs.” She laughs once more. “I know you do.”

She silences you.

Suddenly she stands, placing herself in front of you on the floor. “So do you wanna make up or not?” She was close, very close. Her eyes trailing down to your lips, her hands placed on your thighs. “What are you talking about?” You speak quietly from being so close.

“Let’s make up.”

After that phrase was uttered, you and Ellie’s lips collide at a fast speed. The kiss so sloppy and good it has you feeling feverish. Her rough hands sliding up your shirt, against the skin of your stomach. “You must’ve waited so long for this huh?” She says smirking against your lips.

“Just shut the fuck up.” Ellie laughs. “Shut me up.” Those words ignite a light in your belly, causing you to squeeze your legs together. “Look at you all tense, want me to help you?” She asks, placing her hands higher up your shirt. Her hands find themselves unbuckling your black bra, and you were happy you wore it.

“Must’ve known this was gonna happen huh? Wore such a pretty bra f’me?” Ellie attaches her lips to your neck, biting down softly and pulling a small sound from your lips as you jolt. “Want me to touch you? Tell me.” She waits for your response. “Yeah. I do Ellie, so just fucking do it.”

“Don’t be a bitch about it.”

Finally, you're on your back, her fingers penetrating you at a fast pace. “This feel good huh? Always talking shit, I guess this shuts you up?” She grins over you, watching your face contort from pleasure. “F-fuck! Shut the fuck u-up...!” Your back arching off the couch as she hits that one sweet spot inside you.

“Yeah? This the spot for you huh?” She places your nipple into her mouth, sucking softly. “Oh! Okayokay..!” You place your fingers into her hair, your eyes closed and filling with tears from how good you feel. “Holy-“ Ellie pulls away from the bud with a pop, saliva coating the nipple sloppily.

“Gonna cum around my fingers? Yeah?” She speeds up, your core tightening around her fingers. “I-I’m gonn-“ Ellie suddenly pulls her fingers away. You gasp, looking at her with a glare. “What the hell-“ She places her hand over your mouth. “Lay back down you big baby.”

You force yourself back down with a groan. Ellie’s mouth finds its way to your clot, sucking harshly. “Wh- AH!” Your hands going to her head as she sucks and licks at your swollen bud. Her eyes never leaving yours as she watches the tears that had built in your eyes finally fall.

“Gonna- whew! I’m gonna cum El’s!” Ellie sucks harder, just enough to make you go over the edge. The pull you have in her hair causing her to groan softly into your cunt. She licks your juices all up, not leaving a drop behind. She sits up, wiping the side of her lip and placing her finger into her mouth like she had leftover sauce from a meal.

“You taste so good YN, if I would’ve known that I’d have eaten you out sooner.” She comes close to your face, causing your face to scrunch. “I thought we made up?”

“Not even close.”

My Requests are open!

@sorrowsblogworld @sorrowsideas @tinygojo

[cmncisspnandmore]

Imagine being in a relationship with Dad!Simon and Dad!Johnny.

“Sweetheart?” Soap calls from upstairs, his voice echoing down the stairs.

“Love?” A second voice calls.

You put your finger to your lips. Shushing the small children in front of you. One standing in an emptied tactical vest. Her bright blue eyes looking back at you as she covers her mouth with her hands to quiet her giggles.

The other sitting on the floor, a skull balaclava over his head, but his whole face still visible due to the large size. His bleach blonde hair sticking out, and falling into his deep brown eyes. His own gummy smile matching his older sisters.

“Yes?” You call back, trying to hide the smile that creeps into your voice as your son reaches for you. His chubby toddler hand grabbing at the two sets of dog tags around your neck.

“Have you seen my vest?” Johnny calls.

“Or my balaclava? I swore I left it on the dresser..” Simon’s own voice calls. There’s soft murmuring at the top of the stairs as your husbands talk amongst themselves trying to figure out where their missing gear could be.

“Nope, haven’t seen them. Maybe they’re in the kitchen? I did do laundry the other day, maybe they got put in the basket.” You suggest, as your daughter giggles wildly into her hands. She knows her dads will have to pass through the living room where the three of you are sitting.

Two pairs of boots thud down the stairs as your husbands make their way through the house. Not even bothering to question you. As Soap and Ghost round the bottom of the stairs they pause. Smiles breaking out on their faces as they take in the scene in front of them.

You’re sitting on the floor cross legged, your back to them as your children peek around you. Your daughter losing her battle of containing her giggles. Your son clapping wildly as he sees his dads.

Your son is the first to move, his little arms and legs moving as fast as he can as he crawls across the floor to grab at the laces on Soaps boots. A babbling of ‘dada, dada,’ and baby screeching follows him.

Johnny reaches down and plucks the small child up off the floor, a huge smile on his face as he tickles him. “LT! Did you fall in the fountain of youth again?” Soap laughs, as the toddler laughs and screeches.

“I didn’t realize you liked sparkly pink nail varnish,” Simon grunts as your daughter laughs, pushing past you to stand in front of Simon.

“Daddy! Look I’m Dada!” She smiles, as Simon crouches down to her level.

“I see that Lovie,” he smiles, reaching out and poking her nose.

“And Brother is you!” She points to her brother, and looks up at Soap. “See Dada! It almost fits me!”

Soap sets your son down on the ground, also crouching to her level, “aye lass, soon you can go to work for me yeah? I can stay home with Mummy.”

“Mummy said one day I can be superhero’s just like you and Daddy,” she states proudly, as Soap reaches out to unclip the vest. Your son crawls over and starts tug at the mask on his head.

“Maybe one day, Lovie,” Simon mumbles as he pulls the mask off your son’s head, and presses a kiss to the blonde toddlers head.

“Here,” Soap says and he pulls the vest off your daughter, “Daddy and I have to go to work, okay?”

Your daughter face falls, “but you just got home..” she mumbles.

“I know baby, it’s just for a few days,” Johnny frowns, pulling the small girl into his arms and hugging her tight.

Simon stands, your son in his arms as he walks over to you and offers you a hand. You smile, putting your hand in his as he pulls you gently to your feet. “Looked like you needed some help,” Simon smiles. His hand sliding down to rest on the round bump of your stomach.

“Well if you two didn’t make such huge children maybe I would be able to get up off the floor,” you scold, a playful smile on your lips.

“Sorry Love, but I can’t help it. There’s just something about you carrying our children that makes us wild,” Simon whispers in your ear as he presses a kiss to your cheek.

You wave him off, as you watch Soap talk softly to your daughter who is doing her best to hold back her tears. She hates when they leave, and now that she’s older, the passage of time is a bigger deal to her. She knows that sometimes the few day trips turn into weeks and she hates it. For the most part she was a good sport about it. She would draw endless pictures and take videos for Simon and Johnny. But after Johnny got hurt on a mission, a gunshot wound to the shoulder she’s been more anxious about their leaving.

“Lovie,” Simon calls, as you take your son from him. The toddler settling into your arms, his hands grabbing the dog tags to stick into his mouth. Your daughter turns around. Blue eyes filled with tears, as she walks over slowly, her head slightly down.

Soap gives you a sad look as he walks over, and kisses your cheek. His hand following the same path that Simon’s took as he softly strokes your stomach. Simon leans down, eye level with your daughter as he talks to her.

“I know you’re scared that something bad is gonna happen to Dada, or me. But I promise you, I won’t let anything happen to him okay? Just like he’s gonna make sure nothing happens to me. I promise, I need you to be big, and take care of Mummy for us alright? Help her with your brother okay? Can you do that for us?” He asks softly brushing her hair behind her ear.

“I-I think so,” she mumbles, her voice soft.

“I know you can,” Simon brushes his fingers through her hair. Simon picks her up, and hugs her tight. Your daughter looks at you and Soap over his shoulder.

“Be good okay?” Soap smiles at her, and then looks down at your son. “And you mister, don’t cause too much trouble.”

Your son smiles and smacks his hand against Johnnys chest. “I don’t think he knows how to not cause trouble,” you mumble earning a laugh from your family. It was no secret that your son was a handful, taking after Johnny more than Simon. The image of him sitting in the fridge after he learned how to climb flashes in your mind.

“Okay Lovie,” Simon says, setting your daughter down. “Can you bring your brother to the playroom, so we can talk to mummy?”

“Okay Daddy,” she puts on her best smile and takes the toddler from your arms, holding his hands to help him walk to the playroom. As the door closes both Simon and Johnny move to stand in front of you.

“You gonna be okay?” Simon asks, his dark eyes on you.

“I’ll be fine Simon,” you smile, resting your hands on top of your bump.

“I know we’re leaving awfully close to the due date, I’d hate for to be alone when the new babe arrives,” Soap worries, as he pulls on his tactical vest.

“I’ll be fine, if something happens I’ll call Laswell and she’ll have both of your asses on the next flight home,” you roll you eyes. “Now go,” you wave them away, towards the kitchen.

“You don’t have to do that,” Simon grunts, pulling you into his arms by your hand.

“Do wh-what?” You mumble your voice tight, as tears burn in your eyes.

“Pretend that you’re made of stone,” Soap finishes Simon’s thought, as he also wraps his arms around you.

“We’ll be back Love, before you know it,” Simon kisses your hair.

“And in one piece too,” Soap adds.

“Promise?” You mumble into them.

“We promise.”

[cosmicdahlias]

You’re Mine, Understand?

Ford Pines x Reader

MINORS DNI

Ford has been very inattentive to you, so when an attractive young man walks in you seize the opportunity to make him jealous.

tags: age gap, jealousy, possessiveness, mdom/fsub, marking, hickeys, biting, belt usage, countdown, orgasm denial, p in v, choking, creampie

i added a part about countdowns because i got an ask requesting it over a month ago and kinda forgot about it until recently. this one’s for you anon!

It felt like forever since your research and romantic partner, Ford, had touched you. As of late he always seemed too absorbed in his work to properly give you any sort of attention. All attempts by you to initiate intimacy were met with

“Not now, sweetheart, I cannot be distracted.”

You were so touch starved, you craved his affection. So when Ford and you were upstairs helping Stan with reorganizing the shack and a young man around your age walked in, you leapt at the opportunity to torture your inattentive partner.

The man immediately went out of his way to approach you and strike up a conversation, it was obvious he found you attractive.

“Hey there, so uhhh… you work here?” He asked, very clearly staring at your chest.

“Yeah, you could say that.” You smiled, giving your best doe eyes.

You stole a glance at Ford, who immediately sensed what you were up to, you watched his jaw clench. Ford was… a bit possessive, as one tends to be after being in an abusive relationship with a demonic triangle. You know, typical things.

As the conversation progressed you looked back at your partner every so often, throwing him a smug smile. He quietly seethed, refusing to give you the satisfaction of getting to him. The man told an incredibly flirtatious joke and you gave a playful laugh, putting your hand on his arm.

“You’re like actually so funny.” You giggled.

The man tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

“I’m glad you think so.”

That set Ford off, he knew he was letting you win, but he’d be damned if he allowed another man touch you. He walked over, cutting the man off mid sentence.

“So do you wanna exchange num-“

“Y/n, come with me. Now.” Ford commanded through gritted teeth.

You gave a small smirk.

“Whoa, who’s this, your dad?” The man asked.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back in a little bit. Don’t go anywhere, handsome.” You purred.

Ford grabbed your wrist and led you down the stairs to the basement lab, slamming the door behind him. He turned to you.

“Just what in the hell was that?” He growled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You smiled, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You do not want to go down this road with me.” Ford threatened, coming in close.

“Oh please, what’re you gonna-“

Ford seized your wrists and pinned you against the wall in one swift motion, biting down hard on your neck, eliciting a whimper. He sucked on the soft skin repeatedly, leaving hickeys in his wake.

“I’m going to mark you all over, any man who dares to even look in your direction will know you’re my property.” He said against your skin.

Ford pulled your top over your head, unhooking your bra and tossing it aside. He slipped your skirt and panties down your legs where they joined the rest of your clothes in a heap on the floor. Usually, Ford took his time and savored removing your clothes, but his anger made him cut straight to the chase.

Ford bent you over the lab bench, your nipples peaking against the cold metal. He unbuckled his belt, pulling it free from his pants. He raised it, bringing it down hard on your ass and you yelped in response. He gave you five more lashes before moving to the underside of your thighs, doing the same. Your legs shook and the wetness from your pussy dripped onto the floor.

He picked you up, sitting you on the lab bench to face him. He lowered himself between your thighs, biting down on them hard enough to leave bruises. He stood, looking you directly in the eyes and slipping his hand to your clit.

“I think you need to be reminded why I’m a better choice than any so-called man your age. No one will ever make you feel as good as I can.” He said.

For someone who had spent 30 years in other dimensions away from all humans and never even touched pussy before you came into his life, he had learned incredibly quickly since becoming intimate with you. He valued your feedback and direction until he mastered the delicate art of making you cum in record time with just his fingers.

“How does that feel?” He inquired.

“Mmmnn, s- so good.” You moaned.

“I know it does. You won’t get it like this from anyone else. I know you in ways no one ever will, or even could.”

He leaned down, sucking on the skin of your breasts, covering them in hickeys. You whimpered at the feeling of his fingers drawing circles against your clit. Between being worked up from his rough treatment on your body and his expertise with his fingers, you were already close.

“Are you going to cum?” He asked.

“Y- yes.” You said.

“Listen close, I’m going to count down from three, you are only allowed to cum when I reach zero. Have I made myself clear?”

You nodded.

“Good girl. Three.”

You panted, bucking against his hand.

“Two.”

You felt your orgasm creep in.

“One.”

You were just about to break when he removed his fingers, leaning in and whispering in your ear.

“You don’t get to cum.”

Your orgasm dissipated from the abandonment of his fingers.

“W- what? That’s not fair!” You protested.

“Not fair? Do you think flirting and giving bedroom eyes to some man you don’t even know is fair to me? Well, do you?”

“No.” You huffed, looking away.

“Don’t be like that, you should’ve known you weren’t going to be rewarded, not with the way you were acting.” He said, tilting your chin up. “Now bend over for me.”

You slipped off of the lab bench and followed Ford’s instructions. He unzipped his pants, pulling out his thick cock. He moved one of his hands to grip your shoulder and the other at your waist. You felt his tip press against your entrance for barely a second before he shoved his whole length inside you, causing you to cry out as you felt the sharp pain of your pussy struggling to accommodate his wide girth.

Normally Ford gave you time to adjust to him, he knew he was big, but after the stunt you pulled you would gain no such sympathy from him. He fucked you at a punishingly aggressive speed. He typically preferred slow and passionate lovemaking, except on rare occasions such as this where you managed piss him off enough, in which case he was ruthlessly hard and fast, as you deserved.

“Who do you belong to?” Ford asked.

“Y- you.” You whimpered softly.

He pulled out, reaching for his belt, you felt the sharp sting of leather against your ass.

“I… can’t… fucking… hear… you.” He said, each word emphasized with his belt being brought down hard on your ass.

“I’m only going to ask one more time, who do you belong to?” He commanded.

“You.” You said louder.

He forced himself back inside you down to the hilt, continuing his rough pace.

“That’s my girl.”

He wrapped a hand around your neck, you choked out a moan as he squeezed it tight.

Ford chuckled. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re liking this far more than I’d expected. Are you?”

With Ford’s tight grip on your throat, all you could manage out was a weak “uh-huh”.

“You’re making my job so much harder here. What I’m doing to you shouldn’t be this enjoyable, this is supposed to be a punishment after all. I guess this is what happens when you fuck a masochist, no matter what I do, you’ll find it pleasurable.”

Ford released your throat and moved his hand back to your shoulder.

“I like when you h- hurt me.” You whimpered.

“So I’ve gathered.”

His breathing began to hitch, his brutal pace faltering for just a moment.

“I’m going to cum and you’re taking every single fucking drop inside of you. That’s nonnegotiable, do you hear me?” Ford ordered.

“Yes sir.”

“Such an obedient little harlot.”

He increased his speed, furiously pumping in and out you. He dug his nails into your skin, pulling you against him to take the full length of his cock as he came deep inside you. He didn’t stop his thrusts, fucking his cum back into you.

“God, I’ll never tire of your tight little pussy.” He panted.

He slowly eased up the movement of his hips, pressing kisses along your back as he pulled out. He turned you around to face him.

“So there’s just one thing I still don’t quite understand. Why on earth did you feel the need to seek out the attention of another man?” He said, still trying to catch his breath.

“Ford, you’ve been totally closed off lately. All you do is work, any time I’ve tried to even touch you, you tell me you’re too busy. I’ve just felt completely ignored and you have no idea how much that hurts.”

He cupped your cheek, tilting your head up to face him.

“Oh stardust, I’m so sorry that I haven’t been properly making time for you. I have no excuse and I promise I’ll try to put in more effort in the future.” He said, kissing you.

“You better mean that.”

“You have my word. I swear tonight after we finish up in the lab I will give you my full, undivided attention. Now, as much as I feel bad and would like to be nice, a punishment is still a punishment. So… you’re going to get dressed and go upstairs. You are to keep your panties off and let my cum drip out of you. You will continue your conversation with that young man so he can see how I’ve marked you and that you’re mine, and only mine. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

He kissed you passionately.

“Good girl.”

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : GAME NIGHT : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Stark!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men/MCU

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None! Mentions of (Y/N)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You and Logan get invited to the Avengers game night by your father, Tony Stark. As usual, Wade tags along.

Part 2 of ‘Meet The Family’ (or can be read as a standalone)

IT WAS A WARM SATURDAY EVENING AT THE AVENGERS COMPOUND, and the living room was already buzzing with chatter and laughter. Tony Stark had decided to host a game night, something rare but always chaotic in the best way possible. Naturally, you and Logan had been invited. Well, more like dragged into it by Tony, who had left you a not-so-subtle voicemail: "Game night. Be there, or I’ll build an Iron Man suit with your name on it. Logan too."

Now, you were sitting on the couch, sandwiched between Logan, who had that same calm, unbothered expression, and Wade, who had somehow found his way into the compound again without being invited.

“Alright, team,” Tony announced, standing at the head of the room like he was about to launch into a company presentation. “Tonight, we’re doing things a little differently. No Monopoly. No Twister.” He glanced pointedly at Thor, who looked almost disappointed. “And definitely no more karaoke. Clint, I'm looking at you.”

Clint snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Hey, my rendition of ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ was iconic.”

“Iconic, yes,” Tony quipped. “Also responsible for me needing to soundproof this place. No, tonight, we’re going to play—wait for it— Avengers Trivia.”

There was a collective groan from around the room. Steve facepalmed, and Natasha narrowed her eyes at Tony. “You cannot be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious, Nat,” Tony replied, a grin spreading across his face. “Jarvis is going to be our quizmaster. Everyone teams up in pairs, and we’ll see who really knows the most about this weird, dysfunctional little family we’ve built.”

Logan’s eyes flicked to you, one eyebrow raised. “Trivia? This what you do for fun?”

You chuckled, nudging him playfully. “Trust me, it gets wild.”

Wade, who was seated cross-legged on the floor like a child, raised his hand. “Ooh, ooh! I call Logan as my partner!”

“Absolutely not,” Logan deadpanned, cutting him off without hesitation.

“Rude,” Wade muttered under his breath.

Tony clapped his hands. “Alright, pick your partners. (Y/N), you’re with Logan. Nat, you’re with Steve. Clint, you’re with—”

“Me,” Wade interrupted, grinning maniacally. “The unstoppable duo is back!”

Clint groaned but didn’t argue. “Great. This’ll be fun.”

Thor was happily pairing up with Bruce, already talking about how their combined Asgardian and science knowledge would be “unmatched in the Nine Realms.”

“Let’s get started!” Tony called, snapping his fingers. “Jarvis, first question!”

The familiar voice of the AI butler filled the room. “First question: Who was the first Avenger to officially join S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

Before anyone could answer, Wade leaped to his feet. “Easy! It was Deadpool! Wait, no, I was too cool for S.H.I.E.L.D. It was Cap. Yeah, totally Captain America.”

“That’s correct,” Jarvis responded, and Wade pumped his fists triumphantly.

Steve glanced at Wade in disbelief. “How do you—never mind, I don’t want to know.”

Natasha smirked. “Looks like we’re off to a good start.”

Logan, leaning back in his seat, glanced at you with a smirk. “They’re really competitive about this, aren’t they?”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

Jarvis continued, “Second question: Which Avenger has the most confirmed hand-to-hand combat victories?”

Thor stood up, beaming with pride. “It is clearly I! Thor Odinson, warrior of Asgard!”

“Actually, the answer is Natasha Romanoff,” Jarvis corrected.

Thor froze, his confidence momentarily faltering. “Ah, well… yes, Lady Natasha is indeed formidable in battle.”

Natasha gave a small, smug wave. “Don’t feel bad, Thor. You’ve got the hammer thing going for you.”

The next few questions flew by, with Clint and Wade bickering over every answer, Steve trying to be diplomatic, and Tony repeatedly congratulating himself for knowing all the answers to his own questions.

Finally, Jarvis posed a question that had Logan sitting up straighter: “What is the most common alias used by Wolverine in the field?”

Wade immediately blurted, “Oh! Oh! It’s Wolverine! Wait, no—Patch! Or is it ‘That Angry Canadian Guy’? Ooh, I know—Hairy Murder Grandpa!”

Logan shot Wade a warning look. “Don’t push it.”

Wade, not knowing when to quit, leaned closer to Clint and stage-whispered, “I’m pretty sure it’s Patch. He wore an eye patch. So mysterious, so dashing.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Is it Patch?”

Logan nodded. “That’s one of them.”

Jarvis confirmed, “Correct. Wolverine has used the alias Patch on numerous occasions, particularly in Madripoor.”

Wade looked smug, puffing out his chest. “See? I know my friends. Not that we’re friends, but you know, friends in a ‘he’ll tolerate me’ kind of way.”

Logan’s gaze met yours, and you couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of the situation. “You’re handling this a lot better than I thought you would,” you whispered to him.

He shrugged. “Not my first rodeo with these types. They’re alright. Except him,” he said, nodding toward Wade, who was now debating with Clint whether Deadpool could be considered an honorary Avenger.

After a few more rounds of questions—with your team surprisingly holding its own—Tony stood up, waving his hand for attention. “Alright, alright. Let’s mix things up. I’m bored of trivia. Time for the lightning round: Avengers Charades.”

“Oh no,” Steve muttered under his breath, already looking weary.

“Oh yes!” Tony replied, grinning mischievously. “Everyone, pair up with a new partner. This time, one person will act out an iconic Avenger moment, and the other person guesses.”

Clint clapped his hands together. “This should be good. Wade, you’re on my team. Let’s see if you can manage to not ruin this.”

“Challenge accepted!” Wade chirped.

Natasha swapped with you so that you were now paired with Steve, while Logan found himself paired with Bruce. Bruce looked mildly terrified, but Logan just nodded in his calm, stoic way.

Tony raised his hand again. “Alright, first team up—Logan and Bruce. Let’s see what you’ve got!”

Bruce stood up, nervously adjusting his glasses. “I’ll, uh, act it out. You guess.”

Logan grunted. “Fine.”

Bruce stepped to the middle of the room and began... well, thrashing around. He flailed his arms, growling and making these deep, guttural noises, then pretended to smash something invisible with both hands.

Logan blinked. “The Hulk?”

“Correct!” Tony shouted, laughing. “That was the easiest one! Come on, Bruce, give us something harder next time!”

Bruce, looking sheepish, sat back down as Logan gave him a brief nod of approval.

Next, it was your turn with Steve. You drew a card from the deck Tony had provided and grinned. Oh, this was going to be fun. You stood up, positioned your hands like you were grabbing two handles, then mimed jumping out of a plane with a parachute. Steve’s eyes lit up with recognition.

“Cap jumping out of the Quinjet without a parachute.”

“Correct!” Tony called, and Steve laughed, shaking his head. “I knew you were gonna do that one.”

As the game went on, Wade acted out a scene from Thor: Ragnarok with over-the-top dramatics, pretending to be both Thor and Hulk fighting in the arena. Clint just threw his hands in the air. “I’m not guessing this.”

Thor, of course, took the opportunity to stand up and reenact an exaggerated version of his own scene, complete with an invisible Mjölnir that he swung wildly around the room.

“Another point for Team Asgard!” Thor announced proudly, and Bruce just shook his head.

Finally, it came down to Tony’s team—himself and Nat. Tony drew a card and immediately smirked. He stood up, putting on a ridiculously exaggerated “hero” pose, and then pretended to fire repulsor blasts from his hands.

Natasha crossed her arms. “Really, Tony? You’re just doing yourself?”

“Can you blame me?” Tony replied, winking at her.

Natasha sighed. “Iron Man in literally every movie you’ve been in.”

“Bingo!” Tony grinned, bowing dramatically as if he’d just performed Shakespeare at the Globe.

The night wrapped up with everyone gathered in the living room, laughing and sharing stories. You leaned against Logan, feeling his steady presence beside you as the chaos of your family—both old and new—buzzed around you.

“Well,” Logan said quietly, watching as Thor tried to explain to Clint why throwing Mjölnir wasn’t cheating in charades, “this wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.”

You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. “Told you. We’re a weird bunch, but we’re family.”

Logan looked down at you, a rare softness in his eyes. "Yeah, I can see that."

Just as the moment settled between you two, Wade suddenly jumped up, startling everyone. "Wait! One last round! We can't end game night without one final showdown."

Tony groaned, already halfway out of his seat. "Wade, it's late. And I think we've done enough—"

"No!" Wade insisted dramatically, waving his arms. "It's tradition! And by tradition, I mean something I just made up. The Ultimate Battle: Avengers Pictionary!"

"God, no," Clint muttered, but it was too late. Wade was already tearing open a random box from Tony's game collection, pulling out a whiteboard and markers.

"Alright, alright," Natasha sighed. "One round, Wade. One."

Wade grinned and tossed the marker at Logan, who caught it midair with practiced ease. "You, Logan! You’re up first!"

Logan glanced at the marker, clearly unamused, then at you. "Pictionary, really?"

You shrugged with a grin. "Rules are rules. Besides, I wanna see how good your art skills are."

With a small grunt of resignation, Logan stood and moved to the whiteboard, glancing briefly at the card Wade handed him. His eyes narrowed slightly, and then, without a word, he began to draw.

At first, the lines were slow, hesitant, but as the seconds ticked by, Logan’s rough sketch started taking shape. There was a figure—a man, with claws and an iconic stance.

Tony leaned forward, grinning. "Oh, this one's obvious."

But before anyone could guess, Wade leapt up. "It’s me! Deadpool! No, wait, it’s—"

"Logan," you cut in with a smirk, recognizing the stance. "It's him. Wolverine."

Logan stopped drawing, looked back at the group, and gave a small, satisfied nod. "Yep."

The room erupted into laughter, and Tony threw his hands up. "Okay, that's it. Game night over. Logan wins."

Logan shook his head, placing the marker down. "This was ridiculous."

"Ridiculously fun," Wade chimed in, unbothered by Logan’s usual gruff demeanor.

As the night wrapped up for real this time, you leaned against Logan once more, feeling the warmth of his presence amidst the laughter and camaraderie around you. Sure, game night had been chaotic, but in the end, it was just another reminder that no matter how strange or dysfunctional, this was your family.

And Logan? Well, he was officially part of it now, too.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes @slowlikehoneyyy @wolviesgirl @shybluebirdninja @boomveronika @lanabobana @corvusmorte @seamlessepiphany

If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know!!!

[eddieandbird]

Plant Kisses—

Imagine Eddie catches you feeling insecure - Based on a quote by Tyler Knott Gregson

tags/warnings: fluff | genderless reader | blurb (0.8k words) | comfort

———

You’d assumed while your back was turned that Eddie was putting all his focus into practicing this new guitar riff he claimed was ‘shredding his fingertips off’. Really, it just gave his hands something to do while he curiously set his eyes upon you.

You sat on the floor with your legs crossed, your body hunched over as you looked into his floor-length mirror. You were poking and pulling at your skin, silently examining every flaw you came across. Eddie was no mind reader, but he was sensitive enough to know that there wasn’t a kind thing you were telling yourself in your head.

There was only so much of it he could take, and after ten maddening minutes, he was ready to put a stop to it. A low hum rang out of his amp as he set his guitar onto its stand, the sound still wasn’t enough to bring you out of your obsessive trance. He slid onto his knees, bringing them to frame your hips as he sat down with you.

“What on earth are you doing?” He scooped up your chin and squished your cheeks together, stopping you from picking at your skin any further.

“Nothing,” You gave a typical, dismissive answer. You could see his unimpressed pout from the corner of his eye.

“Nothing, huh? You really think I’m gonna believe that?” Eddie swiped his hand across both your shoulders, bringing your hair to your back before combing it out with your fingers.

You shot him a petulant glare. “I don’t know what you want me to say,”

You could feel your heart thrum at his gentle actions, already succumbing to the softness he seemed to only have for you.

He raised an eyebrow at your expression, a humorous smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t give me that look,” he chided, lightly tugging on the back of your hair to keep your attention. “We both know you’re such a bad liar,” he chuckled.

His hands slid down from your shoulders to your arms, his touch feather-light as he trailed his fingers along your skin. “I can already guess what’s going through that head of yours,” he said, gently pulling you back to sit on his lap.

“Oh yeah? What do you think is going on in here?” You tapped a finger to your temple, playfully challenging him.

“Some stupid bullshit about how your skin isn’t clear or you have a double-chin, or that you need to suck in your stomach more so you look a bit smaller, blah, blah, blah,” As Eddie rambled, his arms slowly snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Yeah? And so what if I was thinking all of that?” You mumbled under your breath, your arms following the placement of his. His inferences were right, causing those stubborn walls of yours to crumble.

He tilted his head to the side, studying your face with an amused look in his eyes. “Like I said, I think it’s bullshit,” he stated bluntly.

“You are so beautiful and you know it,” his thumbs slowly traced along your abdomen.

He leaned his head down to the crook of your shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of your neck before placing a kiss there. “You’re perfect just the way you are,”

“And what if I don’t feel that way, huh?” You exhaled slowly letting the air out through your pouty lips.

It wasn’t like you didn’t appreciate his sentiment. It wasn’t either of your faults that your insecurities screamed much louder than anything he was able to say.

Eddie shook his head without replying. He dipped his head down, continuing freckle kisses along the skin your tank top allowed him to touch, even running his lips down the backs of your arms. The sensations built a warmth in your stomach, but somehow it didn’t distract you from the fact that he still hadn’t responded.

“Hellooo. Eddie Munson, I’m talking to you,” You teased, waving your hand in his face.

He picked up his head. “I heard you, sweetheart. I’m answering your question,” Not another second passed and he was back to what he was doing before.

“How is this answering my question?”

“This-” he planted a kiss on your nape, “is what-” and another kiss to your shoulder. “I’m gonna do every time-” he continued, “you feel like this…” Eddie punctuated his statement with a kiss on the top of your chest.

Eddie stopped for a moment, letting out a loud exhale. He studied your reflection in the mirror, proudly admiring the subtle flush he had caused to spread over your skin. You wished to say something snarky in response, but his sincerity caused you to surrender to whatever deeper meaning this display of affection had for him.

“You’re gonna kiss me every time I don’t feel beautiful?” You asked with only a hint of sarcasm.

He nodded, fitting his head into the space beside your neck.

“I promise to plant kisses like seeds on your body, so in time you can grow to love yourself as I love you,”

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

pairing: tommy miller x waitress!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 2.9k

summary: what if joel didn’t answer tommy’s call from jail? and what if the waitress he’d been defending that night bailed him out instead?

author’s note: a brief tommy interlude inspired by a line from taylor swift’s song “slut!”. i hope you enjoy and if you do, please consider reblogging or commenting! 🩵

tags/warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), no outbreak au, no use of y/n, reader gets harassed by a drunk bar patron and physically grabbed, bar fights, mentions of alcohol, friends to lovers, tommy smoking cigarettes, i gave tommy an insane amount of game and for what reason, thigh riding, semi-public sex, car sex, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, pet names, creampie. if i’ve missed any, please let me know!

“You’ve reached Joel Miller. Sorry I can’t come to the phone right now…”

“Son of a bitch,” Tommy hisses. The voicemail tone beeps and he continues with, “Joel, answer your goddamn phone. I’m at county. And no, it ain’t my fault. Just…get here when you can, I guess.”

He hangs up the receiver, head low. The officer watching him clears his throat.

“C’mon, Miller. Back to the tank,” he says. Tommy sighs.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’, Chuck.”

Tommy drags his feet across the dingy linoleum. His jaw aches from a sloppy right hook that managed to hit its mark and his eyes burn thanks to the unforgiving drunk tank fluorescent lights. There are two other people in the cell with him this evening — a man who reeks of vodka slumped in the corner in a wrinkled suit and another man who is staring solemnly at a spot on the floor as he tries not to topple over. 

Tommy takes a seat on the long concrete bench and stretches his legs out, crossing them at the ankles and folding his hands over his stomach. He might as well get comfortable, there’s no telling when his brother might check his voicemails. As he sits his thoughts drift to what even landed him here in the first place.

Tommy watches you as you approach the bar, a frown tugging at the corners of your lips. You tap the service machine, entering an order with more force than strictly necessary.

“Everythin’ alright?” He asks. You glance at him.

“Yeah, just some group of assholes over by the darts table that think cleavage is an invitation,” you reply. “It’s an invitation for tips. Not hands.”

“You need me to step in?” He offers. You wave a hand at him but your frown turns into a bright smile.

“No, no, I can handle it. Thank you, though, Tommy.” You slide another bottle of beer across the bar. “Here you go.”

“Thanks, darlin’,” he says with a wink. “You let me know if you need savin’.”

“Always such a gentleman.” 

The bell to the kitchen window rings and you leave to pick up the order. Tommy watches the sway of your hips in your low rise jeans that hug your ass just right, wondering what it would be like to peel them off and get his hands on the soft skin underneath. 

He’s watching the fight on the TV above the bar when he hears a glass shatter behind him. He turns toward the sound, thinking that maybe someone had gotten too rowdy and knocked their glass off the table, but instead he sees you struggling against the hold of a man who’s pulled you onto his lap.

“Let go!” You shout, kicking your legs.

“Come on, sweetheart,” the brute says, arms wrapped around your waist. “Just one lil kiss is all I’m askin’ for!”

Tommy is out of his seat with red in his vision, hands curled into fists that are begging for a target. Other patrons watch with interest, and he’s not sure if he’s angrier at the man putting his hands on you or the crowded room of people not bothering to help.

“Get your fuckin’ hands off of her,” he barks, the same tone he developed after years of service in the Army. 

The man releases you, the sudden loss of support causing you to slide to the ground with a shout of surprise. Tommy moves to help you up but the asshole stands, blocking him and shoving his shoulders.

“This don’t involve you, pretty boy,” the man snarls. Behind him, you’ve managed to get up and you hurry away from the scene. “Mind your fuckin’ business.”

“It became my fuckin’ business as soon as she said no and you didn’t listen,” Tommy says, straightening his shoulders. The man laughs and looks back at his friends.

“This fuckin’ guy,” he slurs. “Defendin’ some whore waitress.”

Throw the first punch, Tommy thinks. Come on, asshole.

The man focuses his attention back on Tommy, stepping close enough that they’re toe-to-toe now. He’s maybe an inch taller and he tilts his chin to stretch that inch as far as it will go and he’s breathing through his nose like a bull about to be released from its holding.

“Get out of my fuckin’ face,” Tommy says. The man laughs, the stench of beer pouring from him. A fist cracks across Tommy’s jaw and he stumbles backwards from the force of it.

Showtime, he thinks.

“Miller!” An officer calls out, yanking Tommy from his thoughts. He looks up and the officer jerks his head towards the door. “You made bond. Come get your stuff.”

Tommy stands, relief flooding him. Joel must have finally check his voicemail. At least he won’t have to spend the whole night in here. 

“‘Bout time you showed up,” he says as he enters the lobby while he tries to thread his belt through his jeans at the same time. 

“Sorry, had to finish my shift,” you reply. His head snaps up in surprise, task forgotten as you wave your fingers at him.

“What’re you doin’ here?” He asks. 

“You said your brother was busy tonight, so I was worried you might not have someone to bail you out,” you tell him with a shrug. “Besides, you’re in here because of me. It’s the least I could do.”

Tommy laughs. “Ain’t your fault, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, by the way. Guess I did need saving, after all.”

“You could’a handled him fine. I just sped up the process.”

He’s staring at you now, gaze caught with yours as you give him a soft smile. Tommy spots the time on the clock hanging on the wall above your head.

2:32 a.m.

“You wanna get breakfast?” 

The diner Tommy directs you to boasts a neon sign that advertises twenty-four hour breakfast. The booths have cracked red vinyl and the menus are faded from use but you can read it well enough to order French toast while he orders chocolate chip pancakes with a side of hash browns. He builds pyramids out of the coffee creamer cups while you talk and talk and talk. You laugh as he drowns his food in syrup and you steal a bite of them despite giving him a hard time about it. 

Afterwards, as you walk together to your car, your palms are a little clammy and your heart pounds the slightest bit faster. You’ve had the biggest crush on Tommy since the first time he slid onto a bar stool at your shitty bar and ordered a Miller Lite (“It’s funny ‘cause it’s my last name!”). He’s always polite, never leaves a mess, and makes you laugh even when you’re having a tough night. 

"You alright? You got quiet," Tommy says. You swallow nervously.

"Yeah, I'm totally fine," you reply. He looks like he doesn't want to believe you but he doesn't press for more.

"You mind if I have a smoke before we go?"

"That's fine."

He digs a crumpled box of Camels from his back pocket, sliding a cigarette out and bringing it to his lips. He pats his thighs and then his chest in search of his lighter, finding it in the pocket of his button up shirt. Metal Zippo lighter finally in hand, he flicks it open and brings it closer to his face, flickering flame casting an orange glow over his features.

He breathes in as the cigarette catches the flame and closes the lighter with a quick snap, exhaling the smoke with the cigarette still held between his lips. Lighter tucked away, he inhales again and pinches the filter of the cigarette between two fingers to pull it away and exhale the smoke into the air.

“You gotta quit lookin’ at me like that,” he says. “You keep watchin’ my mouth and it makes me want to do somethin’ real stupid.”

You lean against your car and he steps close. He smells like a mix of smoke and syrup and sweat, three things that shouldn’t have your pulse pounding and yet combined with the way Tommy’s dark eyes focus on you and the dimple in his cheek as he smirks, you don’t stand a chance.

“More stupid than getting in a bar fight?” You finally ask.

“That wasn’t stupid. Got me here with you, didn’t it?” He inhales another lungful of smoke and tips his head back to exhale. “You gonna let me kiss you?”

You smile at him, lifting your hands to smooth your palms over his chest. His cheeks turn a faint shade of pink that trails down his neck, disappearing beneath the white tank top he wore beneath an unbuttoned pink shirt. 

“That’s your big stupid idea? Just kissing me?” 

Another drag from his cigarette, another smirk, a hand on your hip as he shuffles closer. “Mm, to start.” He brings his lips close to your ear, warm breath tickling your skin as he murmurs, “You didn’t answer the question.”

“What question?”

“You—“ a kiss beneath your ear “—gonna—“ another to your jaw “—let me—“ a third to your cheekbone “—kiss you?”

“Yeah, Tommy. You can kiss me,” you whisper. He wastes no time, greedy lips pressed to yours as soon as he gets the green light. His tongue explores your mouth and tangles with yours, leaving behind the taste of pancakes and smoke. 

A thigh presses between your legs, a new pressure and friction that you explore with a tentative roll of your hips. That hand on your waist urges your movements — forward and back at a slow and steady pace. He pulls back from your kiss and brings the cigarette to his lips.

“So goddamn pretty,” he whispers, smoke spilling from his mouth and disappearing into the night air. “Pretty as a fuckin’ picture.”

He flicks the butt of his cigarette to the ground and then he’s on you with renewed purpose, kissing you deeply with a broad palm to your cheek, tilting your face to the best angle to devour you. When he’s gotten his fill of your mouth, his hungry lips slide across your jaw and down your neck, teeth digging in roughly against your pounding pulse and making you gasp.

“Hush, sugar,” he says, a reprimand with little heat as he smiles against your skin. That hand on your waist has found the fly of your jeans, deft fingers working the button open and the zipper down. “You want a little more attention?”

“Mhm,” you reply, nodding your head quickly. He slips his hand beneath the elastic of your panties, quickly swirling over your needy clit. He lets out a deep groan, one that has you clenching on nothing and desperate for more.

“God, you’re fuckin’ soaked,” he says. He presses two thick fingers to your tight entrance. “You can take it, right?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before pressing them inside, the tight pressure making you rise up on your toes in surprise. He’s got a limited range of movement thanks to your jeans but he still manages a sloppy grind of his palm to your clit and curl of his fingers that has you squirming as your release builds inside of you.

“You want more, baby?” Tommy asks, dark eyes a little wild and desperate. “You feel so good in my fingers, I just know you’d take my cock so fuckin’ good.”

“Tommy,” you pant, your hands clutching at his shoulders. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He yanks his hand from your jeans and before you can complain, he’s opening the back passenger door and urging you into the back seat of your sedan.

“Pants off,” he demands as you shuffle across the seats. He sits beside you and starts to unbuckle his belt. “If you’re gonna cum, it’s gonna be on my cock.”

His words have you scrambling to remove your boots and pants, graceless movements in the cramped space. Your elbow connects with his ribs and he hisses as you giggle, wiggling your pants and underwear off. It’s dark in the car, dim light from the parking lot filtering in the windows enough for you to catch the smile on Tommy’s face.

“C’mere,” he drawls, patting his thighs. He’s freed his cock from his jeans and you admire the thick length of him for a brief moment before obeying, straddling his lap. You drag your wet pussy over him, twin groans filling the still air of the car as you do. His hands flex against your thighs and his head tips back against the seat. “Fuck, you feel so damn good.”

It’s not the most comfortable encounter you’ve ever had, with your neck bent so that you don’t hit your head and your skin already slick with sweat from the cramped space and the Texas heat but, heaven help you, the look on Tommy’s face makes it worth it. You reach between your bodies and wrap your hand around him, holding him still as you position him at your entrance. 

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss as you lower yourself, your eager cunt adjusting to him with only the slightest pinch of pain that quickly transforms into a delicious fullness. “Oh my god,” you whimper.

“You can just call me Tommy,” he teases, but his voice is just as wrecked as yours. You rise up slightly on your knees and drop down sharply, a satisfied smile on your face when his laughter morphs into a choked curse and his hands grip your hips tightly.

His fingers find the hem of your shirt and lift it up only enough to expose your bra, the cups of which he roughly pulls down until he’s able to get his hands on your breasts, groping you roughly. You moan as his lips wrap around one pert nipple, tongue swirling over the sensitive flesh and light dragging his teeth across it.

The windows grow foggy and your skin starts to get slick with sweat the longer you work yourself over his cock. It’s messy and dirty and uncomfortable, your thighs burn and your neck aches, but Tommy’s making it his goal to get his lips on any skin he can reach, whispered praises between each bite and kiss that has your head growing fuzzy and your core getting tight.

“Feel so good, darlin’,” he groans. “Goddamn, I need you to cum, baby. You were so close before, weren’t ya? I can get you there again, right?”

You nod, mouth open in a silent moan. He presses his thumb to your bottom lip, slipping it experimentally over your teeth until it presses against your tongue. You suck on the digit, reveling in the way his eyes roll back and he groans, hips flexing to meet yours and making you cry out.

“‘M so close, Tommy,” you whisper when he withdraws his thumb from your mouth. 

“Yeah, I can feel it, sweetheart,” he growls. When you lift up he holds your hips steady, suspended above his lap. He pounds into you from below, rough slaps of his hips that make you press a hand to the ceiling of the car to steady yourself against the onslaught of sensation. “Come on, baby, come on,” he says through gritted teeth.

It’s the dark look in his eye and the flex of his jaw, the shimmer of sweat on his light tan skin and the feel of his fingers digging bruises into your hips, the lewd noises and the desperate moans against each others mouths that all combine to shove you over an edge you’d been balancing on since, if you’re being honest, he rushed over to help you back at the bar. You bite into his lip as your orgasm crashes over you, his sloppy thrusts and the heat blooming inside of you telling you he reached his peak as well.

You slump forward, panting heavily against Tommy’s neck. His head tips back against the seat, chest heaving with his own labored breaths. His fingers draw patterns against your sweaty back.

“I feel gross,” you groan. Tommy laughs.

“Sure know how to make a guy feel good about himself, don’t ya?” He teases. 

“I just meant I’m all sticky.”

“Mm, don’t worry. You can take a shower at my place.”

You pull back to look him in the eye. He’s sporting a satisfied grin as you raise your eyebrows at him. “Oh yeah? You taking me home, Miller?”

“Sure am.” His confident look falters the slightest bit. “I mean, if you want.”

You kiss him, slow and sweet. 

“Yeah. I want that.”

The loud ringing of a phone breaks through Tommy’s slumber. He reaches out a hand from beneath the sheets and blindly finds the offensive device amongst the clutter on his nightstand.

“What,” he groans when he’s managed to flip it open.

“Tommy! What the hell, man,” Joel snaps. “I just got your voicemail. Left my phone upstairs and fell asleep on the couch. Are you alright?”

“What?” Tommy asks again. Joel sighs.

“You called from county and said you’d gotten arrested. I called ‘em this morning and they said you got bailed out. One of your friends come by or somethin’?”

Tommy glances over to you, where your bare shoulder peeks out from the sheets, the fabric draped across your curves. He smiles.

“Yeah, a real good friend. Guardian angel, even,” he says. 

Another sigh from Joel, this time one of relief. “Well, good. Quit gettin’ into trouble after ten, I can’t stay up that late anymore.”

“Sure,” Tommy agrees. You turn over, sleepy eyes blinking up at him. “I gotta go.”

He hangs up without waiting for a goodbye. You scooch closer and lay your head on his chest.

“A guardian angel, huh?” You ask. He kisses the top of your head.

“Yep. Saved my ass from the wrong place at the right time.”

Masterlists available here!

[skilledmeowjesty]

Pairing: Rafayel x afab MC

Genre: smut

Rating: 18+

Word count: 2.6k

Tags: Dom!MC, Sub!Raf, Bottom!Raf, fingering, teasing, PEGGING

Content: Rafayel asks the MC to peg him with a strap he already owns

A/N: Shameless content of one of my biggest Kinks (pegging) featuring the Sub!iest man from L&DS (Rafayel) 🥰

I will be writing more pegging/sub content of these bachelors in the future (this is a threat)

‘come over when youre off work, i got something i wanna talk to you about’

‘its been over 10 min since your shift ended and youre not here yet 😒’

‘20 min now traffic cant be that baddd’

‘25 min and still no reply 🥺’

‘you cant even answer?? 💔’

‘are you ignoring me??? 😢’

‘Fine, ig ill just drown myself since you hate me sm 😭’

Rolling your eyes, you read over the text messages Rafayel had been spamming you with for the past half hour, unable to unlock your phone to reply to any during your meeting at work, leaving it to buzz every few seconds during the important debriefing at the Hunter's Association and earning a raised brown from your captain as you gave her an apologetic smile in response

‘I just got out of a meeting, I'll be there in 10’ you text back, knowing how dramatic Rafayel could get whenever he doesn't receive your constant attention

“Who you textinggggg?” Tara asks playfully as she peeks over your shoulder to see your screen, catching a quick look at the dozens of messages and emojis before you lock your phone and shove it back in your pocket, “is it your boyfriend?”

“I.. yeah” you answer with a slight blush, still getting used to the title, even though it has been well over a month since you and the Lemurian became official, “he wants me to swing by his place now that I'm off work”

“Is he the one that was blowing up your phone during the meeting? I thought Captain Jenna was gonna blow a gasket” Tara giggled

“He can get pretty impatient” you say in reply, swinging your leg over your motorcycle and readying to drive to Rafayel's loft to see what he wants, “so I better head out”

“Okay, have fun!” She waves with a suggestive wink, and with that, you drive off

_____

When you finally arrive to Rafayel's place, he doesn't greet you at the gate, so, you invite yourself in, having gotten his security code back when he first decided you were going to be his new bodyguard

Knowing the layout like the back of your hand, you easily find him in his bedroom, where the artist sits on his massive bed with his back turned to you, his arms crossed, and though you can't see his face, you just know his signature pout is on his lips

“So, you finally decide to show” he grumbles, and you can't help but roll your eyes again

“I told you, I was in a meeting” you sigh, stepping fully into the room, careful as you avoid stepping on any of the many loose half finished sketches scattered across the floor, pencils and other art supplies discarded this way and that, making moving as difficult as walking through a minefield

“You still should've at least replied”

“What did you want to talk about?” You ask, an attempt to change the subject before the artist spirals into more sulking

It seems to work, and he finally turns to face you, the colors in his surreal eyes swirling with emotions you find you can't exactly place

Excitement? Definitely, but, something more, vulnerability? Almost uncertainty, and you find yourself tilting your head as you wait for him to speak

“So,” he starts, before pausing, gnawing at his lower lip between his teeth, as if he's trying to find the words

“So..?” You reply, hoping to encourage him to continue, seeing how it seemed incredibly important with the amount of messages he has been spamming you with

“Well, you already know I'm Lemurian” he says, and you just nod with a quirked brow, not understanding where he was going with it

Another pause, a breath, “and since we're not human, we have a different…form.. in a few things..” he trails off again

“I know…?” again, you look at him with a baffled expression, still not following his train of thought

Rafayel stops again, and you fight the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake the words out of him, growing as impatient as he was with you when he was spamming your inbox, not used to the man so hesitate in speaking whatever thing came to mind the second he thought of it

Rather than continue speaking, he reaches into his nightstand’s drawer, rumbling through it, a soft blush touching his face

“Raf, whatever you want to say, can you please just get on with-” your words cut off when he pulls out a rather LARGE and inhuman shaped silicone phallic toy, a harness quickly followed

You blink, staring for a few seconds at it while his eyes stay glued to your face, to your reaction

“What is that?” you finally ask

“A strap” he starts, the blush on his cheeks flushing more, overtaking his face, his ears turning a deep red, “it's modeled after Lemurians”

You stare at him in shock for a few seconds, before turning your attention back to the toy, the length, the size, the way it was shaped, curved up, a knot like bulge near the base, the head wide and vaguely resembling the end of a squid head, the edges riddled with groves like a tentacle, the massive toy looking otherworldly and definitely not what you'd have expected

“This.. is how Lemurians’,” you gesture down to his crotch, “look in merform?” You finish in disbelief, finally stepping towards him

He holds the toy out for you, though his eyes suddenly dart off to the side, refusing to meet your gaze as you take it to study

The size was much larger than anything you expected, the girth making it impossible to wrap your fingers around, taking two hands to fully hold it steady, turning it to and from, you look at it from all angles, still unable to fully grasp what Rafayel had said, that this was what his own length looked like in his Lemurian form, not seeing how it was POSSIBLE for something so large of that shape to enter ANYONE, Lemurian or otherwise

He hasn't said a thing, quiet as you inspect the dildo, but his blush has now traveled down his neck, the exposed parts of his chest visible from his unbuttoned shirt turning the same deep crimson his cheeks and ears held, as he once again shifted his eyes to stare at you, gauging your reaction

“You.. want me to use this on you?” You ask when the implications of what a ‘strap’ were came to mind, looking over at the simple black harness he had set next to him on the bed

Rafayel eagerly nods, staring at you like a puppy begging for a treat, his brows furrowing as he waits for your reply

“Would this even fi-”

“It will” he cuts you off mid word, his tone completely sure, as if he has no doubt, as realization dawns on you exactly why he must be so confident

The corner of your lip quirks into a half smirk, mischievous as you set the toy down next to him, your hand instead reaching to grab his chin, tilting his head up as you lean down from your place standing over his sitting form, bringing your lips closer to his own, breathing your next words out, “well, since you asked”

You waste no time kissing him then, half registering the shocked delight in his gaze as your arms move to snake around his shoulders and lean down, toppling you both over onto his expensive sheets

His hands immediately grip your hips as you straddle him, your fingers moving to quickly unbutton his shirt, undoing each one in a heist before yanking his top open and off

Your lips leave his to kiss up and down his neck, peppering the skin with soft pecks and light bites alike, and he moans, arching his back to into your hands when your fingers run over his chest, gently pinching at his hardening nipples before adding a bit more force

He's already panting under you after such a short amount of time; his hips lifting off the bed in a desperate attempt to grind into you, seeking friction, but lets out a whine when you put a stop to his rutting with a solid hand to hold him in place

“Hold still” you warn him, your hands shifting from how you held him to unbutton his pants, before yanking both them and his underwear down in one smooth motion, freeing his length that sprung out, the head smacking against his stomach and staining his skin with the precum already leaking out

You gather up a generous amount on the pads of your fingers, avoiding any real touch as you teasingly ignore his length to instead move past it, down, touching your slick digits against his entrance

He lets out a deep groan, and you feel it rumble from deep within his chest, his pale skin burning bright red, his hardened arousal twitching when you circle around, not putting any real pressure just yet

“Where's the lube?” you ask, purposefully pitching your voice into an innocent, if not slightly teasing tone, smirk on your lips as you look at him

He has thrown his head back, exposing his flushed neck, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard, his answer coming out in a choked whimper

“N-Nightstand drawer” he stutters, and you feel yourself clenching subconsciously at how utterly wrecked he looks, even though you have barely started

You reach your free hand out, blinding searching the open drawer before your fingers find the shape of the bottle

You pull it out, shifting where you straddled him to instead once again stand over him in between his legs

You push both his legs up against his chest which he shifts to hold up from the back of his knees, exposing his already fluttering hole, the smirk growing at the sight of him putting himself on full display for your eager gaze to sweep over

He still stubbornly refuses to look your way, but, you don't mind, enjoying the way his entire body was flushed deep red from his blush, the slight tremble in his limbs as you popped the cap of the lube bottle open, coating the fingers of your dominant hand

“Tell me if it hurts” you say, before gently press your index finger against him, easily pushing in, feeling very little resistance, immediately able to add your middle finger

He moans as you cant your fingers, brushing them over what you could immediately tell was his prostate, before pulling back, not wanting to overwhelm him as you scissor your fingers slightly to help stretch and loosen him, knowing it was important considering the size of the strap he wanted to use. Soon, you find yourself able to add a third, your ring finger, introducing it with another slight brush over his sweet spot to distract any discomfort he may feel as you stretch him more and more

His moans grow louder when you quicken the pace of your hand, fingers moving in and out of his waiting heat, canting, prodding, every once in a while brushing over where you knew he wants you to before once again ignoring it, half to avoid overstimulation, half teasing, feeling your own arousal damping your underwear, the sight of him completely falling apart under you turning you on more than you thought possible

“You seem pretty experienced in this” you tease, your pinkie joining in on the assault, causing his already arched back to arch more, taunt like a bow and you see his hands holding his legs up for you turning almost white with how hard he held his own limbs

“D-Don’t say it like that” he huffs, but the sound dissolves into a groan when your fingers once again prode against his prostate, cutting off any more words from him intentionally

Once you feel the muscles of his entrance completely loosen under your attentive movements, you move your hand back, and he lets out a whiny protest

You step back, grabbing the harness to easily put it on, deciding not to undress at all, excitement flooding through your veins at the power dynamic of it all, him, flushed and begging and nude on his back with his knees pressed to his chest on full display, and you, standing over him, still completely clothed as you attach the monstrous dick to the harness

As you coat the toy with a generous amount of lube, you see Rafayel releases his hold on one of his legs, hand moving to grasp his neglected length, but you quickly smack his hand away before he makes contact as you step closer once more

“No” you tell him, a mischievous glint in your eyes as, FINALLY, he looks back at you, the surreal color of his eyes overtaken by his blown out pupils, his lips parted as he pants, his chest heaving with each breath, and you can see the desperation in his gaze as he whines, yet again

“Whyyyyy” he pouts, furrowing his brows, but you ignored him in favor of lining the slick strap up to his waiting heat

“I control your pleasure” you breathe, and you see his eyes widen for a split second before you move, with solid hands on his hips, you pull him down onto the toy, pushing in in one smooth motion

He lets out a loud moan, louder than any you have ever heard from him before, which you immediately silence by crashing your mouth to his, swallowing the sound as you start to thrust

His legs wrap around your waist, his hands grasping desperately at the bedsheets, fingernails clawing into the fabric, his back arching further as pressing his chest against your own and you can feel his heart hammering away so quickly, so strongly

You angle each thrust, hitting where you KNOW his prostate is, overwhelming him into a desperate mess under you as he pulls his face away from your lips, turning his head to the side, his cries echoing off the walls, his legs trembling around your waist; you see tears start gathering in the corners of his eyes

He screams your name, over and over, louder and louder to the point you wonder vaguely if anyone else can hear him, even in his home so isolated from everyone else, he was being so loud

One of your hands leaves his hip to cover his mouth, cupping over his lips in an attempt to silence him

“Quiet, my lil conch shell” you breathe teasingly, and his eyes snap open, wide, the nickname proving to be his undoing

Reaching his limit, you feel his hot release spill out in between you two, his cum coating over your shirt and burning into the fabric, soaking it

You give a few extra thrusts, working him through his orgasm until his moans turn into pained groans from the overstimulation on his poor prostate

You finally pull back and out of him, leaving him a panting mess on the bed, his chest still heaving, his hips and legs trembling, his eyes completely glazed over, and you find yourself smirking at how completely fucked out he looks, just because of you

_____

It wasn't until later, when you're having some drinks with Tara, that you realize something

As she jokingly shows you a site she found while browsing the Internet for some new adult toys to spice up her bedroom, you see the very strap Rafayel said was modeled after Lemurians listed under “Monster Dragon”

You can't help but smirk when you ask Tara to send you a screencap to forward to your Lemurian lover

[sundew199]

Patience is a virtue, or not

a/n: anon request!

tags: porco galliard x reader, angry/frustrated sex, rough sex, no prep, gender neutral reader, choking

When your boyfriend first told you about this, challenge, you just about died laughing. And not because you thought it was stupid, because you knew he wouldn't last a day, not even an hour really.

I mean no sex or any kind of masturbation for an entire month was like asking Porco to not talk for thirty minutes, and again you had no idea where he thought he could complete this challenge. Must've been an idea from some of his friends, had to be, he'd never willingly give up sex like this.

But you'd give him credit where credit was due, he did manage to last this long and it was, what a couple days before the end of the month? Something like that, you were necessarily keeping track.

Though there was a slight downside to him sticking to his word, Porco was pent up and frustrated, more so than usual you think. And to be fair, you were kind of pushing his buttons, unintentionally of course.

"Isn't it suppose to be cold? Why are you wearing going with that outfit?"

Came his comment as you stood in front of the floor length mirror in your bedroom, turning in each direction to get a good look at yourself.

"I'm just trying some things on that I haven't worn in a while, doing a mini closet purge."

You could hear the eye roll from him after your response, letting out a little laugh as you glimpse at his very obvious adjustment in the chair he was sitting in. The harsh press of his palm to his crotch sent excitement through you, wondering if you could get him to break in this stupid challenge he was participating in. The other downside to your boyfriend's determination and hardheadedness was you weren't seeing much action, but you had your methods and ways, though it didn't compare to what you were missing.

"What time will you be back?"

He asked after a moment, slouching in the chair now with one leg resting over the other, resting his head in his palm, looking at you with a bored expression.

"Probably late."

"How late?"

Turning, crossing your arms at the snippy tone he used, you rolled your eyes back at him and took a few steps forward. Porco eyed you with annoyance again, huffing like a child and seemingly waiting for an answer to his question.

"Not appreciating the attitude here."

He groaned loudly, annoyed still but knowing you had quite the upper hand over him at the moment, and had for a while now.

"Yeah well, not appreciating the 'scandalous' outfit you have on."

Moving closer, you bent over until you had him caged in the chair he was sitting in, purposely letting lips brush over his, enticing him more than you'd been this entire month.

"Oh? Well you can do something about that." Moving in like you were about to kiss him, like you knew he wanted, but pulling back at the last second. "Oh shit, I forgot you can't."

Yanking yourself away completely, not bothering to adjust the clothing you had on, still standing tall for a second and then turning back to where your mirror was to search for something else to wear tonight.

Not even a second had passed before your boyfriend had you wrapped in his arms, pulling you back into his chest, panting into your ear with a sort of growl. Maybe you teased him on purpose, maybe you didn't, but there weren't any complaints coming from your end.

"Fuck you're pissing me off."

Oh yeah, it had worked. Worked like a charm.

"I am?"

Playing coy and pushing yourself back into him, meeting the bulge in his pants, moaning to yourself as you rotated your hips. Porco's breath caught in his throat, moving to firmly hold your hips still as he walked you back to assumingely the bed. If that was all it took for him to break, you would've done this much, much sooner.

The sheer arousal from between your bodies was coming off in waves, thickening the air with tension like non other, allowing you to grow excited for what was next.

Porco stopped once the back of his knees hit the bed, turning around until you were by the bed instead of him, slipping his hand underneath the hem of your outfit and tearing it off in one swift motion. His hands groped all up and down your body, squeezing and kneading like he'd never touched you before. Laughing under your breath, you grabbed the side of his face and smashed him into a kiss.

Whether he was in a hurry or still annoyed at you, Porco cut the kiss short and turned you around again, pushing you down onto the bed, pulling you hips up and forming an arch in your back.

"Fuck that stupid challenge." Was the last thing you heard until his mouth pressed up to your hole, slithering his tongue around and eventually inside. You let out a broken moan, twisting the sheets in your hands and grappling to them like they'd make it easier.

Nearly a month had passed since you felt the wanted touch of your boyfriend's hands on you, a month of giving yourself relief when all you wanted was him. Shit this felt good, better than you'd expect if you were being honest.

Hums and groans melted into your skin as he lavished your hole, devouring you like a man starved, which wasn't much of an exaggeration at this point. His hands kept you spread apart and open for him as he took you as a prize he'd won, sated his own building hunger.

"Mm I need you Pock."

Everything stopped the second you spoke that dreaded nickname of his, your own lips curling into a sort of evil smile as you knew what you were doing. Rustling of pants and a belt were the only sign of warning before the sizable head of his cock pressed and slowly pushed its way inside you, stretching you out so nicely.

"Say that again and I'll come up with a stupid little challenge just for you to participate in."

At this point, it sounded fun. But all you wanted was to keep that frustration inside him alive, needed him to fuck you until you couldn't walk for at least a week.

You laughed and pushed your hips back towards him, sinking his cock farther into you, earning a sputter of a groan and a sharp slap to your ass.

"Greedy,"

Muttering out with what sounded like a smile, but you couldn't exactly see his face to know, using the indications in his tone. Porco was so expressive, even when you couldn't see said expressions, always gave himself away a bit too easily in your opinion.

"Mhm, greedy for you Pock."

Hesitation flew out the door then for Porco, pulling you all the way back until you were flush to his pelvis, pressing a hand to the center of your back to deepen the arch in your back. Followed by the fast and rough pace of his thrust, throwing out all the build up and going straight for a sort of punishment for your words.

"Really asking for it huh?"

You nodded against the bed, moaning prettily just to feel the tip of his cock bruise the deepest part of you over and over, an addiction you formed with just him. And Porco gave it to you, slamming his cock as deep as he could inside of you over and over and over and over, no signs of letting up.

Skin slapping against skin mingled with the grunts and moans coming from both of you, the unattainable craving for one another clouding each other's visions. Porco's hands dug into your hips, probably bruising the skin from his grip, but you loved it, needed more of it.

"C'mon you haven't fucked me in almost a month and this is all you got?"

Taunting him, though slightly dangerous after hearing the snarl in the breath he just took, lust flipping and turning in your stomach at the sound.

Releasing on of his hands from your hips, Porco reach forward and wrapped it around your throat, pulling you back a bit painfully.

"Sure you can handle it? Cause I'll fuck you so good you won't even be able to go out tonight."

"H-harder Poc-"

Straining against his hand, not even getting to say his full name before his grip around your throat tightened and a knee came to rest on the edge of the bed, creating a new angle for himself and sending his cock even deeper.

Shit, he might actually make you cum before he came, crying out and shaking from each snap of his hips, throwing your head back somehow and clenching around him.

There you felt him falter in his rhythm, shake with a single shutter and move himself to an ungodly pace that sent both waves of pain and pleasure throughout, just what you'd been seeking out from him. Fuck, this felt better than expected honestly.

"Fuck yes, yes, yes, just like that!" Chanting like a whore to him, hoping to encourage him on to give you the sweet release you sought out, wanting to cum just as badly as he did.

Porco growled, releasing the hand from around your throat and using it to press your face down into the bed, panting and letting out little whines.

"Shit, gonna cum - gonna cum inside you-"

Words coming out broken and slurred, the promise he spat prompting you to clench even tighter around his dick, moan his name into the sheets and wait patiently for what you were hoping for.

Quicker than either of you expected, Porco sent one final thrust and held you to his hips, the warmth of his cum being painting your walls rapidly, an entire months worth.

Shaking with your own orgasm that felt just as strong as his did, you fell limp before he could even pull out, groaning from the absolute beating he just gave with his dick. But at the same time, you were floating on ecstasy, like a cloud had surrounded you in post-coital bliss.

The shared hiss between you two came when Porco did finally pull out, hearing him shuffle around for something behind you. A rag or something like that wiped away the smeared cum painting your thighs, still face down into the bed as he worked to clean you up.

"Still going out?"

Lifting your head to scowl at him, meeting the proud smirk on his face you sighed.

"Fuck you."

"I mean, I'm up for round two if you are." Plopping down on the bed beside you, laughing under his breath and pressing a kiss to your cheek, returning to the extra sweet man you knew, no longer bottling up his arousal for a stupid challenge. But you would admit, this was probably the best sex you've had in a while, so maybe there were a few advantages to whatever he decided to participate in.

[steddie-island]

Wallpaper

Written for day 1 of @stevieweek | Prompt: Stobin Rating: G | WC: 1,144 | Tags: MTF Steve Harrington, Coming Out, Robin Buckley's POV ao3 | Divider credit Now with a part 2!

They’re sitting in the bathroom. Steve’s thigh bumps against Robin’s, and he can’t stop biting on his thumbnail.

It’s a nervous habit, Robin knows, one he only gets when things feel like they might be spiraling out of his control in a major way. Sometimes she’s surprised it’s not something he does more often, but she knows he likes to look nice. Likes for other people to think he looks nice, too. He’d also crudely pointed out once upon a time that “No one wants to be fingered by someone with a bloody hangnail, Robin, Jesus.” It was gross, but now that’s one habit she’s managed to break herself out of, thanks to him.

“Hey.” Robin bumps his leg and watches as he jumps, like he’s forgotten that she’s there. “It’s just me. You know you can talk to me about anything.”

That’s true, too. Steve’s seen every lump (“It’s cancer I swear to god it’s cancer!” “That’s a zit.”) and she’s seen Steve’s right back (“That’s an ingrown hair, dingus, I think you’re supposed to shave in the other direction. Also maybe try it with your eyes open.”) They’ve helped talk each other off of the ledge so many times. When they traded the stomach flu back and forth, it was the two of them taking care of each other for one disgustingly hellacious week.

There’s nothing they can’t talk about, or help each other with. It makes Robin a little nervous that Steve is nervous, but she knows that whatever it is it’ll be fine. It always is.

“C’mon. We’re sitting on your bathroom floor. I know this is important.”

Steve pulls his thumb away from his mouth and crosses both arms across his chest. It’s then that Robin notices his hands are shaking a little.

“I’ve got something really… really important to talk to you about,” he says. His voice is a low rumble, and there’s a slight tremor, a wetness to it that she’s only heard a few times before.

“Yeah, I gathered that part,” she teases. Her shoulder bumps Steve’s, and then she reaches out to take one of his hands. As soon as their fingers lock Steve lets out a breath that he’s been holding. The tension eases from his shoulders, but only a little.

“I…” Steve clears his throat. His jaw works, and then he swallows hard. “I’ve been thinking, and… I…” He has to swallow again, so Robin tightens her grip and closes her other hand around his fingers, too.

She’s not going anywhere.

“I don’t think… I’m a boy?” A tear trails down his cheek and Steve quickly wipes it away. “I was thinking about all of these girls I’ve been with, and I liked them, but I think there might’ve been more to it? Like… like maybe I wanted some part of them to rub off on me. Like… I feel better when you paint my nails, and I like wearing lipgloss. I– I liked when we got our legs waxed together, and I like…” He bites his lips and brings his thumb back to his mouth to stroke the rough edge against his lip. “I know that all feels like… little stuff maybe, but it’s… I was thinking about it more, and… and I…” His next sigh is shakier, and there are more tears falling now.

Robin holds his hands even tighter and rests her chin against his shoulder. “That’s okay,” she says softly. “You don’t have to be a boy if you don’t want to be.” Her heart nearly breaks when Steve’s lower lip actually wobbles, and then he’s curling into her side.

“I– I don’t want to be,” he says. “I don’t want to be a boy. But I– I don’t want anyone to be mad at me–”

Robin lifts one hand to wipe his face. “No one’s going to be mad at you. No one who matters, anyway.” It’s not like the senior Harringtons have been around for a while now. The Party wasn’t surprised when Will came out, and they all dressed up to go to his first Pride with him. They’ve been okay with Eddie and Steve, and with her and Vicki.

And she knows that it’s not the same, being gay and not feeling like who you are fits who you’re supposed to be. But…

“They’ve faced hell dimensions and fought monsters,” Robin says. Her thumbs stroke over Steve’s knuckles, and she’s moved to sit in front of him instead so their knees knock together. “We almost lost Max, and came even closer to losing Eddie. You being a girl? That should be a piece of cake to them." She rests their foreheads together and brings Steve's hands up to kiss his— her— knuckles.

"What if it's not?" Steve grips Robin all the tighter and bites down on her lower lip. "What if they hate me?"

"Eddie will kick their asses, and then I'll send them packin'. If they won't love you for who you are, then we don't need them in our lives." It's something easier said than done, of course, advice Steve had given when Robin decided it was time to come out to her own parents.

There'd been an adjustment period, but come time for Will's first Pride, her parents were right there beside her.

"I haven't told Eddie yet," Steve says. That tremble is back in her voice, and more tears flow over her cheeks. "What if… what if he says he can't be with me anymore? What if he doesn't love me, Rob? What if he leaves because I'm a— a—" "A freak?" Robin finishes softly. "You, Steve Harrington, are worried your metalhead boyfriend, with his kitchen scratch tattoos and his tabletop speeches, will think that you're a freak?"

Steve blinks, then starts giggling. Quiet at first, then louder, until it's bubbling out of her and she's got her head resting against Robin's shoulder and an arm holding her ribs. "Fuck— you're right. Maybe I wasn't freaky enough before!"

"I walked in on you two once, I think there was more than enough freaky going on in that room." Robin laughs and takes Steve's hands again. The shaking has calmed, and Steve at least doesn't look like she's going to vomit— or worse, faint and get another concussion.

"Will you tell him with me?" Steve asks. "Just in case?"

"You know there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, dingus." Robin pokes lightly at a fleck of turquoise paint on Steve's thumb. "Want me to paint your nails for you again before we go?"

Steve gives another wobbly smile. "I would like that a lot. Thanks, Rob."

"You're welcome, Stevie." Robin stands, tugs Steve to her feet, too, then towards her bedroom. "You know, if you're making big changes, this might be the perfect time to get rid of this ugly fucking wallpaper."

[justzluv]

Teachers favourite pt.1

Pairing: Mr.Miller (Millers Girl) X f!reader

Tags: NSFW(in the later chapter), Age Gap(reader is 18 Mr.Miller about 50), porn with plot(more tags will be added a soon as the chapter contains smut

word count: 834 ( short ikkkk)

It is early in the morning, one can hear the rain dripping from the windows in the classroom. Sitting there with my legs crossed, reading, I hear the classroom door open quietly. A man walks in, the wooden flooring creaks under his slow, but heavy steps. He arrives at his desk and turns around to face me, "Who are you?" he asks me with a stern look on his face as he leans onto his desk. I give him a soft smile and answer him "I'm Y/N", his eyes wander over my face as I answer him.

"I´m Mr.Miller" he pauses for a second looking directly into my eyes and moving closer to my desk. "Are you new in town?", "No, just wanted to take a course this year that is demanding", I can see a faint smile on his face as I answer him. "well I'm glad to have you here but I'm sorry to tell you are a bit early", "oh I don't mind, I knew about that ,he chuckles to himself that moment the school bell rings and the doors swing open Ii turn around to see other students rushing into the classroom.

After the lessons ended he calls me to his desk, "Here's the book list for this year's curriculum " he hands me a piece of paper and I let out a small laugh, "what is it?" he asked me with a confused smile on his face. "I've already read the whole list", "All 20 of them?", "i don't sleep" I answer him with a smile. "your impressive" he answers me, " i except a lot of great things from you" he smirks, "sure do" i answer him with a smile and walk out of the classroom.

As the weeks pass by, Mr.Miller and I grow a lot closer, from the little smiles and looks he gives me during class, to the cigarettes we share during the lunch break. Every time I see his face, his figure leaning against a wall or I catch him stealing looks at me it feels like the room is spinning like someone is hitting me into my stomach with full force, my knees start to feel wobbly and I need to catch my breath. Does he feel the same?

During one of our annual shared cigarette breaks on the bench behind the football field, he suddenly speaks up, "About that midterm paper" "What about it" I answer him as I turn my head to fully look at him. "How about I give you the assignment early?" he says while grinning at me through his sunglasses, "Are you giving me special treatment?", he nods and takes a drag from his cigarette as he gives me a look that has something seductive about it, "Thank you Mr.Miller" his name rolls over my tongue, and for a couple of seconds we just look into each other's eyes. "so what's the assignment," I ask after a few moments of silence, he looks startled like he was just woken up out of a trance, "yeah sure of course, you're supposed to write a short story in the style of your favorite author".

I see Mr.Miller less and less in the last two weeks before the winter break, we don't share cigarettes anymore during the lunch break and we also don't talk before and after my lessons with him, I'm so caught up with the assignment. I miss him, i miss the way the smoke would escape his lips, the way he would place his hands on my shoulder and the way he would say my name.

I turned in the midterm paper during winter break via mail, no response. As soon as I step foot into school the first day after winter break he calls me into his classroom, he seems angered. "what is it, Mr.Miller?" I ask him with an innocent look, "What the fuck did you write there ?" he points to my assignment on his desk as he takes a few steps closer to me, "I did what you asked of me" I answer as I walk towards him, I've never heard him swear before. "your assignment was not to write porn" I can see his cheeks flush as he says that, I step closer to him so that now our faces are only inches apart. "look you're a talented young girl, but I did not expect this when you said your favorite author is Henry Miller, this is unacceptable" he gives me that stern look again he gave me at the beginning of the school year, but now that look has a tad of lust in it, a touch excitement and fascination. "You have to rewrite this," he tells me "Or what?" I answer him with a dumbfounded look on my face, I notice his eyes switching between my lips and my eyes, while it seems like his body is pulling towards me he raises his hand to hold the side of my head.

[irisintheafterglow]

I Think He Knows (pro!kirishima x you)

summary: he's not into party games, so what do you do for seven minutes when you're locked in the closet with your high school crush?

wc: 2.9k

cw/tags: aged up characters!!, friends to lovers, mutual pining, swearing (lots of it), truth or dare, slightly suggestive toward the end but nothing descriptive, first kiss, alcohol and drinking, just pro heroes being idiots

note: prompt is once again from @creativepromptsforwriting because i wanted to write a silly party confession fic ! hope you enjoy, i did NOT mean for this to become this long lmao. he's literally so boyfriend why can't he be real

likes/reblogs/feedback is always appreciated <3

“I want him so bad I’m gonna pass out,” she confesses, throwing herself onto your body and sighing longingly. “Do you think he thinks of me often?”

“Now I really feel like we’re in high school again, ‘chaco. I think you should talk to him about your love life instead of me. Maybe he’ll get the hint, that way.” 

“Hypocrite.” She scowls at you over the rim of her plastic cup, downing another serving of punch with questionable amounts of alcohol. “I had to hear about your infatuation all the time.” 

You stick your tongue out defiantly. “It wasn’t an infatuation. It was just a crush, that’s all.” 

“Yeah, a crush that lasted three whole years,” she hiccups, crossing her legs next to you on the couch and leaning her head on your shoulder. “Do you think about him often? Remember, no lies.” Your eyes immediately gravitate to who she’s talking about, supervising some drinking game at the wet bar that has Kaminari’s eyes watering and Shoto’s face bright red. Deku tries in vain to stop Bakugo from downing shot after shot, ultimately accepting a mystery concoction handed to him by Sero. He immediately spits it out all over Bakugo and both of them are so intoxicated they can’t aim hits at each other correctly. You laugh under your breath and quickly dart your eyes away when Kirishima looks over his shoulder in your direction. Ochaco nods knowingly, giving your thigh a squeeze that startles you. “Oh, you definitely do.” 

Before you can respond, Mina throws the front door of Sero’s house open followed closely by Jiro and Momo. Overflowing grocery bags of junk food line her arms and she kicks the door shut behind her as her hands are both holding a bottle of soju each. Cheers echo through the house at her arrival and she bows dramatically. 

“Looks like the party’s finally here,” Ochaco winks at you before joining Tsu to help Mina unload the groceries. You shake your head as your chest feels the familiar lightness that always came when your entire class was happy and having fun. It was Mina’s idea to have a reunion party, after all, and you knew everyone was looking forward to it. It was scheduled months ago because everyone’s calendars needed to line up and from the looks of it, all of you needed the break. With the press kept back by several thousands of volts of electricity running through the perimeter gate of Sero’s house, you and your friends could finally relax.

Or, so you thought. 

“Okay, party people! Now that we’re all slightly fucked up, it’s time for some games! First game is 7 Minutes in Heaven!”

“As if this hasn’t been 45 minutes of Hell already,” Shinso deadpans from a neighboring armchair, but even you could tell he was enjoying himself by the slight quirk in the corner of his mouth. 

Mina sends a joking glare at him, chucking a balled-up napkin at him. “Get in the fucking circle, Hitoshi.” 

You slide down from the couch onto the floor and feel a muscular bicep press against your arm. “You mind if I sit here?” When you turn to that all-too-familiar voice, you’re blinded by a bright shark-toothed grin and glittering crimson eyes. You smile and nod in assent, eyes widening when you look away to stop your heart from racing. You catch Ochaco’s gaze and she smirks mischievously, to which you loudly suggest the seat next to her when Deku is trying to find a spot in the circle. You wink at her and crack open another can of some fruity mixed drink. 

“So!” Mina begins as Jiro positions an empty glass bottle on the coffee table in the middle of the circle. “Do we all know the rules of 7 Minutes in Heaven–”

“Why the fuck are we using a bottle?” Bakugo’s rough voice cuts through the polite silence and Mina rolls her eyes. “Isn’t that a different fucking game?” 

“It’s only there to ensure no bias in the participants of the game, Bakugo,” Shoto boredly drawls. His face is blank when his eyes meet Bakugo’s. “If we wanted, we could spin your dense head–”

“You wanna go, Ice Pack?”

“Let’s allow Mina to finish speaking!” Ever the diplomat, Momo shakes her head impatiently while she effectively halts the two Pros’ piss match. You feel Kirishima’s sigh of relief that he didn’t have to restrain anyone and bite your lip to suppress a chuckle. 

“As I was saying,” she continues as she delicately dances around the circle. “The bottle will be spun two times. If it lands between two people on the first go-around, those people have to go in. But normally, whoever the bottle points at gets locked in the closet with the other person who’s pointed at for seven minutes. What you two do for those seven minutes…” A suggestive glint flashes across Mina’s dark eyes and she shrugs carefreely. “That’s none of our business.”

An awkward silence settles over the group as Mina continues to stand but seems to be expecting someone else to speak. She clears her throat and Denki suddenly perks up with something to say. “Wait, is this when I do the thing?” Your eyebrows dip in confusion, as do most of your other classmates except for Mina and Sero. 

“Yes, Denki. This is when you do the thing, so go get it.” Sero pinches the bridge of his nose as Denki shoots upward, running down the hallway to grab something from the storage closet. When he returns, he triumphantly holds a cardboard box labeled “HEART RATE MONITOR x2.”

Deku groans, covering his face as Mina beams. “Oh, no…”

“Oh, yes.”

“Did you steal that from some fuckin’ pharmacy?” Bakugo and Shoto both appear horrified. 

“What? No! I got it from my neighbor’s garage sale.”

“That’s even worse!”

Sounds of protest erupt from your classmates and you can’t help giggling at their reluctance to have their heart rate tracked. From your time in high school and into your professional career, you knew you never got picked during these games. You were resting easy knowing you never had to kiss one of your friends because of some stupid bottle. Especially with the positioning of Kirishima right next to you, the odds of you two needing to go into the closet together were slim to none. Tonight, you knew, would be no different than the past as you vaguely listened to Denki explain the use of the heart rate monitor. 

“Basically, we’re gonna call out if you’re making the other person’s pulse jump. It’s like that one part of that couples show we caught Iida watching during our second year,” Mina summarizes and Iida’s stoic voice pipes up in defense of his “research” on how best to acquire a lover while the circle snickers at the memory. Tokoyami’s hand reaches up to pat his shoulder sympathetically. 

“Alright, spin the fuckin’ bottle already! I’m literally aging over here.” Kirishima snorts next to you, hiding a choked laugh with a cough into his sleeve and you jokingly pat his back in concern. You’re too preoccupied with looking at him to notice the gasps and noises of shock as the bottle finishes its rotation around the circle. Confused at the excited expressions of your friends, you look down to see who the bottle pointed at. 

It was between you and Kirishima. 

You had to play 7 Minutes in Heaven with the boy you had a crush on for the entirety of high school. 

Your mind blacked out, face feeling like it was on fire as you both were hooked up to one heart monitor each. You didn’t dare glance at Kirishima because, for all you knew, he was irritated about being picked for these types of games since it wasn’t manly. Ochaco waggled her eyebrows at you and you felt slightly nauseous as she hooked up the machine to your pulse, guiding the wires under the door. “We’ll see you in seven minutes,” Mina crooned. “Have fun!” 

The door locked and you were in complete darkness with him. It was suffocatingly quiet, so silent that breathing felt like a trumpeting elephant. Hushed whispers come from the other side of the door as your classmates analyze your pulse. 

Jesus, his heart is racing. Like, dangerously fast!

So is theirs. Doesn’t sound like they’re doing anything in there, though.

You think he’ll actually make a move tonight?

Dude, shut the fuck up. They can probably hear us through the door. 

You swallow and wince when the noise is audible in the isolated quiet of the closet. 

“So, uh–”

“I, um–” 

You both start to speak and cut off just as abruptly, apologizing profusely and insisting the other go first. He takes a deep breath before he speaks again. 

“Look, honestly, I’m not really…into these types of games,” he starts, breath ragged but you couldn’t imagine why. “I don’t really know how to explain it, I just…”

“I know. It’s okay. Not manly to make out or do God knows what with someone you’re not dating, right?” Your laugh is shaky and you mentally kick yourself for feeling so jittery. 

“Yeah,” he exhales, relieved that you’re not going to expect him to do something he was uncomfortable with. You know damn well he would never make you do something you were uncomfortable with. It’s quiet again for a few moments before he clears his throat and continues. “But… I feel bad just making you sit here in awkward silence so…do you wanna play truth or dare instead?” 

Oh, shit, their heart rate finally spiked! 

Why’s it say that his breathing is super shallow? 

You’re reading something wrong because that’s definitely not what this measures. 

“Sure.” You hear him shift around in his seat on the floor and you lean against the wall, pulling your legs close. “Wanna go first?” 

“Yeah. Alright, uh…well, truth or dare?” 

You choose the safe option, always. “Truth.” You had no idea what he would possibly ask you, but you knew it was probably going to be harmless. 

“What’s your type?” Your blood runs cold in your veins and you pray that your heartbeat isn’t as loud in reality as it is in your ears. He must mistake your silence for confusion. “Like…in a guy.” 

“Um…” Your voice trails off, mind running at a million miles an hour to bury your secret. “Someone nice, I guess.” He hums in acknowledgement, waiting for you to explain further. “I’d like him to be supportive of me and my career. Good with my friends, that’s a given. Uh…yeah. Just not a scumbag.” You laugh to relieve some of the tension in your chest and feel a little lighter when you hear him chuckle too. “I don’t really care about body type or looks; I just want him to be a good person who will treat me right. In my dreams, I’d like him to treat me like I’m royalty, adore me and whatever. That’s hard to come by these days, though.” 

Fuck, his pulse is racing! 

What could they be doing in there so quietly that’s making him so nervous? 

Shall we alert medical personnel? 

No, Iida. You can see their hearts are still beating right here. 

“Alright, well. I hope you find the man of your dreams then. He sounds great.” In the darkness, you could have sworn he sounded almost…disappointed? “Okay, your turn. Ask me.”

“Hmm, okay. Truth or dare?” 

“Truth.” 

The question slips out before you can stop it. You blame the liquid courage and the mystery drink Ochaco made for you. “What’s your type?” 

Wow, that’s a huge spike for him. 

It looks like their heart rate has leveled out; does that mean they’re not nervous anymore? 

Maybe, or maybe they’re used to the energy now. He’s still a stuttering mess in there, I bet. 

“Uh, someone familiar, if that makes sense. Like, you know, hero stuff can get really exhausting. I think my type is just someone who I can come home to and who’ll love me even through the good and the bad. Someone to help me fight battles, physical and mental, you know?” You nod and realize he can’t see it, so you settle for humming in agreement. Your brain feels fuzzy and it takes a considerable amount of effort to focus on the smooth tone of his voice. 

“Do you remember the first battle we fought together?” 

“Of course I do.” You can hear the fond smile in his voice. “I volunteered to partner with you because I thought you were cool.” 

“You didn’t know anything about me yet.”

“Didn’t matter. It just felt right to be with you.” 

Huge spike for both of them! 

Seems like he’s having a whole rollercoaster of emotions in there. 

Your heart stops again and you wish there was light so you could read his expression, whether he meant it platonically or something more. “Okay, my turn. Would you ever date anyone outside? Like from our friend group?”

He’s silent for a long time and you worry he didn’t hear you correctly before he gives a definitive, “No.” Impulse takes hold of your mind. 

“Why not?” 

“I’m just not interested in any of them.” 

“But you are interested in someone?” The second question falls from your lips naturally and you don’t expect him to answer it considering that it wasn’t part of the game. 

His pulse is slowly increasing again. He must be getting nervous. 

“Yeah, I am.” Your heart drops into your stomach. Of course he was interested in someone, and they were probably interested back, but the likelihood of it being you was in your wildest dreams. 

“Hmm, okay. Your turn.” 

“Are you interested in anyone in our friend group?” 

Your voice chokes in your throat. “Y-Yeah.” Sweat beads on your burning face and for the first time, you’re grateful for the lack of light so he can’t see how much you’re panicking. 

“Are they outside right now?”

“It’s my turn to ask, Kiri.”

“You got an extra one on me, if you think I didn’t notice.” His voice is dangerously low, more serious than you’ve heard him in a long time. “So. Is the person you’re interested in outside right now?” 

Both their pulses are racing again. 

They must be talking about something because this doesn’t happen if you’re just kissing the entire time. 

Oh, because you have lots of experience kissing and getting people’s heart rates up?

Ask your mom about my experience with kissing–

You asshole– 

Shut the hell up! I’m trying to eavesdrop! 

You steady your resolve, inhaling and exhaling deeply before answering the expectant darkness. “No, they’re not out there right now.” You can hear the confusion cross his face as he calculates who in your friend group was absent. 

“Who are you–”

“He’s in here with me.” The smallest oh escapes his lips and you pray for the time to go faster, body burning in shame. “Sorry, this is a really weird way of telling you, but…”

“Can I kiss you?” 

Your brain short-circuits. 

“Huh?” You question dumbly. 

“I wanna kiss you. Please.” 

“You don’t have to, Kiri, really. You don’t have to play the rules of the game if–”

“This isn’t about the game anymore. I wanna kiss you, game or no game.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I like you.” He huffs and you hear him run a hand through his hair in the darkness. He only did that when he was nervous. You were making him nervous. “You’re the only one I’m interested in, the only one I’ve been interested in since high school.” 

What the fuck? 

Denki, your fucking machine broke! 

We lost their pulses! 

Did those idiots break the heart rate monitor? 

I think you broke the heart monitor, stupid.

You’re speechless and, tired of words, you crawl toward his voice in the darkness. It seems that he had the same idea as he receives you eagerly. His calloused hands pull you into his lap until you’re on top of him, fiddling with the hair at the back of his neck. His breath is hot on your neck as you wait there for something to happen and you sigh into his mouth when it finally finds yours. The first kiss is gentle and sweet, careful not to scare you away. But after you catch your breath and pull him closer by his jacket collar, his fingers firmly press into your hips, running over the eaves of your body. Your breath comes short and fast and you needily pull him closer as he confidently meets your wordless demands. He pulls away for a moment, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. 

“Kiri…”

“Eijiro.”

“Eiji, please.” 

“Hold on. It’s been seven minutes. And, for the record, I want to date you.”

You’re barely able to supply your agreement before a loud banging on the closet door startles you. 

Alright, lovebirds, that’s time! Opening up the door in three…two…what? 

Before they can open the door, you catch the telltale sound of Eijiro hardening his arm and a spark of light as he slams his fist down on the door handle, locking you in but also locking everyone else out. 

Oh, shit! He actually did it! 

This was his entire fucking plan? 

You better pay for my door when you inevitably break it open! 

Let them be; it’s been a long time coming. 

“Now, where were we?” You laugh in disbelief at the smug grin in his voice as he gently bites the juncture where your neck and shoulder meet, hands roaming increasingly lower on your body. 

“Eijiro, they’re gonna get anxious that we died or something,” you make to leave his lap and open the door, but his arms catch you before you stand. 

“I’ve waited years for you. They can wait a few more minutes.” 

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[under-the-dirt]

water.

HIHIHIIHI!!! it’s my first time writing smut!!!!! (except the one time i wrote something for manwich but we don’t talk abt that <3) and i’m sossosososososso nervous!!! but, i’m obsessed w the idea so hopefully i can get it out into the world!!!

pairing: soap x reader

tags: implied fem!reader (sorryz!), shower sex, dom!soap, sub!reader, a little dacryphillia, soap is a meanie, established relationship (ig that’s like all my fics so far lmao), pet names, praise, degredation, aftercare, obviously smut, orgasm denial (only once :3), overstim, uhhhhh idk what else to out!! UNDER 13 DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED IF I SEE YOU’RE UNDER 13 AND STILL INTERACTING!!!

You had to admit, you’d been a bit of a brat that day. You were horny and Soap was just working and refusing to help!

So, you decided to take a shower to “blow off steam” if you will..

Sitting on the shower floor, the water running down your face as your fingers rubbed desperate circles on your clit. You’d been like this for at least 2 minutes, and you didn’t even feel close to anything! You let out a soft whine, although it came out as a breathy moan far louder than you intended, getting the attention of your boyfriend.

“Ah, ‘aving fun wi’out me lassie?” Soap asks, his accent echoing through the small bathroom. You freeze in fear and apprehension, as you’ve almost never had to masturbate since the two of you started dating.

“You were ignoring me!” You whine, removing your hands from between your legs and bringing them to your side. You squeeze your thighs shut, looking up at him with doe-eyes and blush on your cheeks. He huffs, and you hear his clothes hit the floor. Your eyes widen and your blush spreads further.

“Aw, but you ‘aven’t even gotten anywhere?” He teases, stepping inside the shower and standing over you, dwarfing your entire body on the ground. He laughs, looking down at you with mock pity. You stand up and pout slightly, crossing your arms over your chest. “We can’t ‘ave that now can we, lass?” He purrs, removing your arms from your chest and crossing your wrists, bringing them above your head with one hand.

Your eyes light up, excited to finally get this attention, and you feel the throb between your legs grow from what it had been all day. You whine softly, and he hums in response, pressing a thumb to your clit and rubbing ever so gently. Not enough to get you off, no, just enough so you know he’s there. You squirm and whimper softly.

“All desperate, aren’, we, little brat?” He laughs, removing his hand and pressing his knee between your thighs to keep your legs spread. You try to move your hips and ride his thigh, but he tuts and slaps your thigh. “Not yet lassie.”

“Sir, please!!” You beg, and he chuckles. Your eyes tear up in desperation, unable to move and squirm or get the friction you’re so desperate for. He moves his knee a little higher, ensuring your pussy is exposed to the open air.

“Oh, such a pretty thing. All for me, yeah lass? ‘s all mine?” He says, running a thumb through your slick folds.

“Y-yes! All for you, please!” You whine, attempting to squirm, and he grabs your hip tight enough to bruise. When you begin to feel water on your sensitive pussy, you get confused. Wasn’t he blocking the water? Looking down, you see Johnny holding the showerhead to your cunt, and looking up you see him staring at you with an almost sadistic smirk.

You begin moaning as he angles the water to hit your clit perfectly, a constant barrage against your sensitive bundle of nerves and you can’t take it. You mewl, moan and whine, and to no avail! He just moves the showerhead closer, sending shockwaves through your body that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Please- please Johnny! Sir, please,” You beg between breathless moans and soft whimpers, and he tuts again.

“What ‘re you wantin’ lass?” He asks with faux sympathy, and you sob softly.

“Want your cock- pleasepleaseplease!!” You continue whining, feeling your brain turning off as pleasure takes over.

“Hmm.. I don’t think a little brat like you should get my cock,” He states simply, and you sob, tears rolling down your cheeks and droll running from your mouth. “Oh stop cryin’. All you’re gettin’ is this, so you better cum.”

You attempt to squirm, which has him gripping your hip harder and changing the setting on the shower head, intensifying the attack against your clit. You cry and moan, beginning to feel that knot in your stomach grow tighter and tighter. Your eyes roll back, and he clearly doesn’t like this.

“No, look at me, brat,” He commands, and you have no choice but to oblige. You maintain eye contact, somehow, with your doe-like eyes and breathless moans and whimpers. Your mouth is open in a pretty ‘o’ shape, and he chuckles.

He presses the showerhead closer, and you know he can tell you’re close.

“Mmh- sir can- can i?” You ask sweetly, broken up by your moans and gasps.

“Can you what? Use your words, bonnie” He coos.

“Ca- Can i cum, please?” You say breathlessly, praying he’ll say yes as you feel the knot drawing tighter and tighter.

“Hmm.. Not yet.”

You whine louder, soft sobs breaking up desperate whimpers. After what felt like a century, he decides to ease your pain.

“‘right lassie, go on, cum for me.” He rubs your hip with his thumb, and you immediately cum so hard you see stars behind your eyelids. He does it again, and again, until your legs are shaking and chest heaving. He finally decides to stop, turning off the shower and picking up your exhausted body. He steps out, grabbing two towels, using one to dry you off and another to dry himself. He wraps his towel around his waist before picking you up again and carrying you to your shared bedroom, laying you down on the soft blankets as you so desperately wanted.

“Johnny.. what.. what about you?” You ask gently, innocently, gesturing to the tent in his towel which must be painful at this point.

“Aw, don’t worry about me, sweet darling.” He coos, sliding on sweatpants and climbing into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and holding your back to his chest. He kisses your neck and shoulder, rubbing your stomach gently.

OMGEEEZIESSSS!!! that was my first time writing smut and i think it was pretty decent but pleasepleaseplease lmk what i could improve on! keep in mind i have no real life experience so idk how realistic it is :[ also i hope the anon who had this idea finds this!! <3333

@bunnyreaper

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Desperate Fool - Part 8

Part 7

Last time: Nancy finishes filling Eddie in on what he's missed

~~~

“Ok, Wheeler,” Eddie says a little too loud. He claps his hands together and rubs them back and forth, hoping the friction and heat will help him burn away his anxious energy. It all comes down to this. He’s dreading and anticipating the conversation in equal measure, so it’s better to rip the band aid off sooner rather than later. After all, Nancy was right. He came all this way for answers only she could give him. “Tell me about her.”

She sighs, like she’s been gearing up for this part of the conversation. "I introduced them in July, but they've known each other for a while. It took me a bit to convince Steve to agree to a date, but Becky was so head over heels for him that–"

"Wait," Eddie cuts her off. He repositions himself so his legs are tucked under him, curled up against his corner of the couch. Nancy changes her position and mirrors him. "Becky? As in, the Becky you work with? As in the Becky I just met earlier today? That Becky."

Guilt flashes across Nancy's face before she tucks it away again. She sits up a little straighter and yeah, now Eddie's ready to start an argument. He feels like a complete idiot. No wonder Nancy looked so uncomfortable while the woman was here, she clearly wasn't planning on Eddie crossing paths with her. Becky seemed awkward, but in a normal sort of way. Like she didn’t even know–.

"Oh shit," Eddie says absently, "she doesn't know who I am, does she?"

Nancy sighs, shaking her head, "no, she doesn't know about you." Her eyebrows scrunch, and she wiggles her hand back and forth, like maybe she's backtracking a bit. "She knows you're mine and Mike's half brother." Nancy holds up a finger, ticking off each fact about his existence, the only pieces of him that matter anymore. "She knows you're a rock star. She knows you're estranged on bad terms with Mike and I. That's why she thinks no one talks about you."

"And what?" Eddie gets up, burning off the energy by pacing around the room, waving his arms and generally making himself larger to gain some space. Big and scary and dramatic enough to chase his problems away when he's afraid. "They’ve been seeing each other for more than six months. They’re fucking engaged, and somehow no one's ever mentioned that Steve and I were together? Not a single person has ever slipped up?"

"Eddie, other than Mike and I, no one mentions you at all. Ever."

He freezes, mouth dropped open to argue, arms raised with angry emphasis. His initial burst of energy now kindling into a fury, all but snuffed out by a simple sentence. His body slumps to the floor, and Eddie wants to cry, to release the disgusting sense of rejection by his own family. Except it seems they only support his Angel. No sympathy for the devil, and all that.

"It's like I never existed?"

"I told you," Nancy says softly, reaching out to cup his cheek. He hadn't noticed her move, crouched next to him on the floor. There's pity in the thin line of her lips and disappointment in the creases of her brow. "Steve asked us not to, so we didn't. It was the least we could do to help."

Eddie nods his head, a hollow agreement if only to get Nancy to stop talking. Let him take a breath to process. How is he meant to react when she makes it sound so easy to forget him. Easy enough to pretend his life with Steve meant nothing at all, so unimportant that Steve’s spending the rest of his life with someone who’s missing eight years worth of information. And apparently everyone’s just ok with that.

~~~

Part 9

Tag List!!!

@sadisticaltarts @5ammi90 @blacklegsanji21 @jaytriesstrangerthings @thewickedkat

@stripey82

[futturmanspookie]

Paparazzi

Summary – You're a paparazzi who Derek fought with, and now he owes you something Pairing – Derek Danforth X Male!Reader Tags – +18 Smut, MLM, Oneshot, Penetration, Unprotected sex, No genitalia specified, Doggy style, Missionary, Dirty talk, pet names (Babe, honey and darling)

You were one of the greatest paparazzis of the whole country. Always with the best angles, and always finding A LOT about famous people's life.

But it obviously had it's downsides, like now.

You were sitting on a chair on Boston's general police department, besides with Derek Danforth; son of the newly elected president of United States of America.

What happened for you two to end in this situation? Basically, you were taking some pictures of him as he walked out of a club and you both had a fight.

He punched you and you retorted, you only defended yourself tho, so you could easily file a complaint about him.

The fact is; punching you would give him a really bad reputation, what wouldn't be any good for his mother's campaign on next elections.

He couldn't risk you suing him and the media discovering he started fights with innocent paparazzis.

So he would do what he always did with everyone he assaulted, damaged or bruised. He would bribe you.

"What do you want to not fill a complaint, huh?" He asked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the chair. "Money? Fame? Success? I can give you whatever you want."

Money didn't interested you, and you also didn't wanted to end like the people you photographed... But there was certainly one thing you wanted.

"I want a interview." You said, smirking and crossing your legs, turning your head to look at Derek.

"What?" Derek asked, a confused frown appearing on the Danforth's face. "I just said i could give you whatever you wanted, and you want a interview?" He asked, clearly not understanding what you mean.

"Yeah, but you have to be sincere, and let me ask whatever i want to." You answered, smirking and crossing your arms.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking down as if he was thinking about that. It would probably just end up in a random gossip page, and it's not like he had something to hide.

"Alright." He answered shrugging.

You smiled at that, your smile seeing just as devious as your ideas were. Of course you wouldn't throw a chance like that away.

"When and where you want to do this "interview"?" Derek asked, leaning back against his chair and looking back at you.

"Now, at my hotel room." You said confidently, looking at Derek straight in the eyes.

"Seriously?" He asked groaning in annoyance.

"Yeah." You answered, smiling and shrugging.

You get up and looks around, tilting your head towards the exit and shoving your hands on your pockets.

Derek got up and followed you, taking in your looks. He never thought he would met such a good looking paparazzi. In his head, people with this kind of job were all ugly.

You lead Derek to your hotel, it was one of those fancy 6 stars hotels. Derek was happy he wouldn't need to go to a cheap place, he hated cheap places.

As soon as you two got into the elevator, Derek looked at you, up and down.

"How old are you?" He asked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the elevator's mirror.

"Twenty-four." You answered, smirking.

"Hm." He mumbled, looking away. Okay, so you were old enough for him.

The elevator rings signaling you arrived your floor. You both walk out of the elevator and you lead him towards your room.

237

Derek would remember that number, certainly would.

When you two enter, it looked just like you left this morning; messy sheets, your laptop and an notebook on the coffee table, your bag open in the corner of the room.

You leave your camera case on the floor and walk towards one of the armchairs, sitting on it and grabbing your notebook from the coffee table.

"Feel free to sit down." You said, smirking at Derek.

Derek furrows his brows, but smirks a bit too. He walks towards the other armchair and sits on it, he looks around taking his surroundings.

"So..?" He asked as his gaze moved back to yours, he tried to sound impatient, but he clearly was in no hurry.

You didn't had any questions to ask. You wasn't an interviewer and certainly wouldn't expect having the chance to interview someone like Derek. You desperately needed to think on something.

"You, hm... Like what you do?" You asked, looking down at the notebook and then up at Derek.

"You mean, being the CEO of my family's business?" He asked, leaning back against the armchair.

"Yeah..." You answered, biting your lip and hitting your feet against the floor anxiously.

"Yeah... I think." He answered, shrugging and taking a deep breath.

You sigh and write it down, your look shifting between the paper and Derek, he seemed totally uninterested. You needed something better than usual questions.

"Have you, ever thought of dating a fan?" You asked, trying to make more interesting questions.

It drew Derek's attention, making him look down at you and smirk a bit.

"No, maybe one hookup... But not dating." He said, chuckling a bit.

You took a deep breath, thinking twice about your next question as wrote Derek's last answer down on the paper.

"Have you ever fantasized about other guys?" You asked, gulping dryly and staring at Derek.

His eyes widen and his brows furrow.

"What do you mean?" He asked, looking away and then back at you.

"Fucking other guy, you know." You said shrugging, your grip on the pencil getting tighter.

He stayed quiet for some seconds and then looked down at your notebook.

"Why do you want to know?" He asked, smirking a bit and sitting up straight.

"Huh... Is just a question, you know, it interests the public." You answered, stumbling in your own words as your gaze wandered to the ground.

Derek's smile turned into a grin and he got up, walking closer and holding your chin, making you look up at him.

"I don't think the public is the one interested on it." He hissed, leaning in a bit in a way you could feel his hot breath against your sensitive skin.

Your gaze didn't left his as you got up. His hand moved to the side of your face, his thumb softly rubbing against your cheek.

"You know, you're not that bad for a motherfucker that photographs people without their consent." He whispered moving in and kissing your lips.

You quickly kissed him back, moving your hands up to the back of Derek's head and letting his tongue enter your mouth.

Derek's free hand quickly move down your butt without much ceremony, he's quite touchy.

He lifted you up so you could wrap your legs around his torso, and now he could carry you to the bed

Derek dropped you on the big, fancy bed. Leaning over you and kissing your neck, starting to unbutton your shirt with one of his hands.

His left arm was wrapped around you as he shoved his hand under your shirt, touching your chest briefly and gripping on your neck.

"Fuck, you're hot." He mumbled against your skin, he enjoyed the soft gasps you let scape.

"What the fuck are we doing?" You ask, groaning a bit. You couldn't tell if it was a pleasure or annoyance groan.

"We are having fun, babe-" He whispered, licking and biting on your neck. You tilted your head back, sighing softly.

His hand quickly sneaked to your belt, undoing it as his wet kisses moved down to your collarbone.

You didn't knew why you were doing it, but you wasn't against having sex with Derek, either. So you just decided to let i happen.

His hands slip into your pants, and he slowly starts masturbating you, making you moan and squirm.

You move your hands to Derek's shirt, unbuttoning it and struggling to slip it down his arms.

He helps you, taking it off and throwing it on the corner of the room before getting back to masturbate you.

"You're so sensitive~" He whispered against your ear, biting your earlobe and pulling his hand away.

You groan in frustration, wanting to feel Derek's touch again. He chuckled and starts pulling your pants off.

You lift your hips for him, making it easier for your pants and underwear to slip off. Derek takes some seconds admiring you before pulling away.

"Get on all fours for me." He said, smirking and looking at you up and down. He liked how you looked like a mess already, your unbuttoned shirt slipping down your shoulders.

You obey him eagerly, what you never thought on doing. You wasn't the obedient type, submissive... But damn, it was Derek Danforth... That man could boss you as much as he wanted too.

Derek smiled and moved his hands from your thighs to your buttcheeks. He held them, squeezing and feeling the soft flesh.

"You have such a pretty ass, baby." He said as moved his hands down your thighs again and leaning in to kiss your rear.

You blushed, your hands tugging on the sheets as your cheek was pressed against the mattress.

You watched him positioning behind you and opening his belt. He bent over you, whispering on your ear.

"All i thought since we got out that police department was how i was going to fuck you when we got here." He whispered, kissing your earlobe and pulling his dick out of his pants.

You could feel his throbbing length against your entrance. Fuck, you never felt so eager in your whole life.

He spit in his hand and slathered it all over his cock. He slid his dick between your buttcheeks a few times, groaning lowly.

"You like that?" He asked, tugging on your hair as the other hand held on your ass. You nodded quickly, moaning a bit. You nodded eagerly, your hair falling over your face.

He then pulled away a bit and teased the head of his cock against your tight hole, spitting on it again.

Your breath hitched, feeling him pulling into you slowly.

"Fuck~" You moaned as gripped tighter on the sheets and buried your face further on the mattress.

"No- No... Look at me babe." He said, tugging your hair and making you look up at him. "I want to see you falling apart, honey..." He whispered, leaning in and kissing your lips softly.

Once he was full inside of you, making you pant and moan lowly, he started moving. His thrusts were already fast, making your moans get eventually louder.

It hurts a bit, but the faint pain is subsided by the overwhelming pleasure of feeling him inside of you.

"Damn, you're so fucking hot-" He growled as pumped into you like it was his last day of life. "I want to cum all over this tight, perfect little ass of yours-" He whispered, bitting on your neck and then pulling away, straightening his posture.

You kept moaning and whined softly when Derek pulled at your hair. "So good-" You groan lowly, Derek's other hand finding support on your lower back.

The sticky and wet slapping filled the room, together with the hitting of the bed against the wall and the moans from both of you.

He then turned you around, making you lie on your back as kept his cock inside of you. You looked beautiful; teary eyes, messy hair, rosy cheeks. Derek felt like he could keep fucking you for two weeks straight.

He leaned in kissing on your chest and sucking on your nipples, his thrusts turning steady and deeper.

"God- So tight~" He groaned, moving his kisses up your neck.

You clenched around him a bit, making him go crazy. He thrusted deeper and bit on your earlobe.

"Fuck, baby- Don't do this... I may cum too early-" He whispered on your ear, biting your earlobe again.

He slowly pulled away and got on his knees, holding your inner thighs and thrusting faster and deeper inside of him.

You moaned and squirmed underneath him, your hands running up his abdomen looking for more physical contact.

"Tell me what do you want, tell me, darling... Come on." He said, panting and growling lowly.

"I- I want you to keep fucking me like this, Derek-" You whimpered, your hands clenching and scratching him a bit.

"Oh... I know you want it babe~" He whispered, thrusting even deeper and gripping tighter on your thighs.

You moan louder, feeling his dick reaching a really sensitive point. He bents over you again, one of his hands sneaking up to stroke you.

"Cum for me, babe... Come on-" He whispered, kissing you softly. You moaned against his lips, arching your back as he touched you.

Soon you came, with a loud and high pitched moan. He kept pumping into you after your orgasm, what felt like heaven.

After a few seconds he came too, letting out a guttural moan and falling over you.

"You're incredible..." He whispered, caressing your cheek and kissing your lips softly.

He pulled out of you and looked down at your hole, dripping with his cum.

"Damn... Look who's now my little cumslut." He said, chuckling and pulling his thumb inside of you, making you shiver.

"Don't do it!" You said, blushing.

"What?" He asked, chuckling and pulling his thumb away.

You huffed and rolled your eyes, and then Derek slowly crawled over you.

"I'm going to take a bath, wanna join me, Mr. Paparazzi?" He asked, his breath hot against your face.