#you know i love this dynamic i have to sculpt them

[cadavercrafts]

Are there good OK K.O. figurines to buy or will i have to add prof Venomous and Boxman to my endless list of characters i need to sculpt immediatly? Next year is gonna be so much fanart it’s gonna be terrible/great

[flufflecat]

half of his bodyweight is gonna be hair alone

[wandasaura]

SONG IN THE CAR

summary — wanda just wants to check that you’re not lying, but you can only keep yourself together for so long before you beg natasha to fuck you in the car

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, mommy kink, daddy kink, subspace, public play, inspection kink, butt plugs, packing, strap-on usage, mentions of edging, mentions of spanking, doggy style, car sex, semi-public sex, degradation, praise, dumbification, mentions of free use, finger sucking, oral fixation, men/minors dni

authors note — i’m not even going to apologize for what this turned into because once i started i just kept adding the most unhinged things. as always, this doesn’t need to be read with the yail series but it might make more sense if it is. the ending is a wee bit rushed but i wanted to get this out for you, so i hope you enjoy!

you are in love

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

A strangled whine falls off the tip of your tongue when Wanda trails her fingers across the small of your back. The interior of the store is cold, the electric hum of an air conditioning unit almost as loud as the music that plays through speakers hidden within different vents around the clothing store. You can’t even fathom what business Wanda and Natasha have being in a shop that’s blasting brain melting pop tracks, but they dragged you inside at the first sight of the large LED letters out front. 

You’ve lost sight of Natasha, the Russian made a dramatic show of escaping toward the back wall merely seconds after Wanda dragged you over to look at a rack of denim shorts. The store was geared more toward a generation around your age, the elements of both boho aesthetic and minimalism felt almost too trendy to be authentic, but if you weren’t so… overwhelmed, to put it sweetly, you would’ve vocalized just how much you liked the style of clothes that sat folded precisely on the shelves surrounding you. 

Wanda’s hand lingered on the small of your back for longer than an appropriate second. Despite the cold store that threatened to erase all memories of the sweltering heat outside, the Sokovian’s hands were the perfect cross between just barely warm and unacceptably frigid. The longer they sat on the exposed skin of your back – the baby tee Natasha had picked out for you to wear hugging your ribs tightly and subsequently allowing both her and Wanda access to your sensitive spine – the harder it became to not envision them falling lower and lower until they found a place between your thighs for the second time that day. 

You weren’t looking at Wanda, intentionally avoiding her strong stare and focusing intensely on the white shelves that adorned the walls. You didn’t need to glance at her to feel the devilish smirk that rested across the very lips that had wrapped around your clit and left you needy only a handful of hours earlier to know that it was there and obnoxious. Natasha had kissed her in the car and claimed smugly that Wanda’s tongue still tasted of you, but neither had offered any assistance in relieving the sticky situation between your thighs. 

 When Wanda’s question went unanswered a second time, the question being if you liked anything in particular around the store, a perfectly sculpted brow rose in your direction and the attention you’d been putting on the racks of clothing became a fascination of the past. A slender finger cradled your jaw, cold against your flushed skin but not icy enough to flinch away from instinctively. The subtle gesture had forced your eyes away from the t-shirts and baby-tees you’d been meticulously staring at, and rather onto a set of twinkling green eyes. Wanda’s lips were still curved upward into a smirk, but they twinged with something dangerous as she set her gaze on your dilated pupils and permanently pink cheeks. 

“Mommy asked you a question, milaya. What’s got you so distracted?” Wanda pouts, her lips teasing and thin as they purse in an attempt to ward off a sickening grin of mischief that she wore mere seconds beforehand. She knows exactly what’s distracting you, she’d been the one to suggest this little game when Natasha decided she wanted to go shopping, but still she feigns innocence as you come undone in a disgusting public mall. 

Despite having an answer on the tip of your tongue, you can’t find the courage to share it with Wanda. There shouldn’t be any reason for you to vocalize your feelings when she’s already aware, despite her trying to break you down time and time again. Instead, you settle for something simple, and certain enough to wind her up a good deal. “Nothing.” The word doesn’t roll off your tongue as easily as you would’ve liked. It’s choppy and cuts like a dagger, but it sits lightly in the air between both of your warm bodies as Wanda takes the time to process what you’ve just said. Or rather, how you’ve just blatantly lied to her. 

“Oh, nothing’s distracting you, baby?” Wanda coos, her head tilting ever so slightly to the side as her eyes threaten to unravel the web of lies you're spinning. You don’t even have a chance to answer before she’s gripping your jaw, the pad of her thumb pressing into the hollow of your cheek while her pointer fingers sentence the other side of your face to the same fate. Her grip is tight, controlling, but not harsh enough to actually hurt. She’s mastered the art of grabbing you in a way that stuns you into submissive silence, and though you’re in public where anyone can see, she doesn’t seem to mind holding all the cards in her one-handed grip.  “So if Mommy put her hand in those pretty panties you’ve got on, she wouldn’t find a sticky mess?” 

There are two choices here, you can either deny the accusation and save a sliver of your dignity that’s waning fast as the day progresses, or you can agree with her accusation and hope that your honesty satisfies her need to be right in this moment; either choice will lead to her hand in your panties, you’re not dumb enough to believe that she’ll drop the act when you’re already this far in, but there’s still defiance burning in your belly that deceives you enough to believe you’ll walk away with the upperhand. Hastily, not thinking much of the consequences, your head shakes from side to side in the negative. You’ve decided to save yourself the embarrassment of admitting that your panties are absolutely drenched by no fault of your own, it’s entirely her fault and she knows that. The movement is little, restrained to small jerks due to the hand on your jaw, but Wanda feels it, and she quirks an eyebrow. “I need words.” She tightens her grip, forces your lips to pucker and your cheeks to ache from how her fingers sit flush against your teeth. 

“N-No.” It takes all of your strength to answer her, and even still all of your mustered up courage leaves a fierce blush sinking into the apples of your cheeks and across the tips of your ears, but a fire lights in Wanda’s eyes at your prolonged battle to remain coherent. You’ve been fighting her on decisions all day, trying to keep your head above the surface and your thoughts clear, but there’s only so much clarity in a moment like this. Nobody can blame you for falling beneath the thumb of the hottest lawyer in the world when you’re quite literally putty in her hands. 

“Oh, well then I guess you won’t mind if I check for myself, will you, detka?” You’d discussed this new kink a week ago. You’d agreed to what she called inspections with no hesitancy, though a healthy bit of embarrassment at the prospect of her being able to feel your sopping cunt whenever she pleased, but you’d agreed and even anticipated the moment she decided to put your agreement to good use. You hadn’t expected her to be so bold as to cash in on your agreement in one of the most densely populated shopping malls in the state of New Jersey, but there was no getting around it now. Still, your eyes fluttered away from hers, anxiously scrounging the small boutique style store for other customers or cameras.

Your eyes only found two figures, and one was distinctly Natasha who had styled her red hair in dutch braids before you left the house. For a second, you wondered if this had been the plan all along; to get you into a store where nobody else dared to shop because of the steep prices and violate you into submission, though you wouldn’t technically call Wanda’s premistion a violation, but… still. The only employee that stood on the floor was a smaller woman with silky chestnut hair, and she occupied a space next to Natasha against the far back wall as the two engaged in a conversation that looked to be revolving around a red bikini top your girlfriend held up to her chest. It complemented her hair nicely, would do absolute wonders for her boobs, but she had no real interest in the article if the pinch between her brows was evidence enough. 

Despite the reassurances you found, you met Wanda’s gaze again and choked out a strangled whisper, “Somebody’s going to see.” The blush on your cheeks was sheerly a factor of your mortification, but Wanda seemed to crave to deepen the sharp color on your face as the hand not gripping your face began its ascent toward your core. The flowy white skirt Natasha had picked out for you allowed her access without a fuss, and when her fingers tickled the sensitive interior of your thighs, you couldn’t help but instinctively part your legs for Wanda’s quest. 

“Shh,” The Sokovian shushed you sweetly, her hand loosening its grip on your jaw but never falling away fully. Her eyes searched yours, practically looking through you as she assured that you were okay to continue, anticipating the moment the safeword fell off your lips and all of her movements stopped. You’d never stop adoring her caution in moments like these. “Let Mommy do the thinking, sweetheart. Little girls don’t need to be worrying about anything other than their Mommy.” Her words fell onto you thickly, and a pout pulled at your lips as they sunk in. That submissive headspace all three of you adored was creeping up on you slowly, and her infantilizing words merely accelerated the process as you blinked at her slowly. 

The hand on your thigh brushed across your mound tauntingly slow, and for a second, you’d forgotten that you weren’t going to receive anything from her touch when it finally came. There would be no pleasure to spiral through your core when her fingers found a home beneath the drenched material of your panties. All that would come from her touch was embarrassment and more frustration. You gasped when Wanda’s ring trailed down the warm skin of your cunt, tracing a path downward until it fell onto your clit almost perfectly. Your hips startled at the cold sensation, but Wanda merely shushed you as the tips of her fingers sought out the source of your arousal. She hummed inquisitively, the pad of her finger pressing against your sopping entrance for merely a moment before it was gone and she was trailing strings of your wetness back up to your clit. 

“You’re so wet, utenok. No wonder you’re having such a hard time listening to Mommy. I bet it’s so hard to think when your pretty little pussy is just crying for attention.” Wanda mused mockingly, the pads of her fingers circling your clit that throbbed and ached for actual relief, but the pleasure never came. As quickly as her hand had dipped into your underwear and sought out your intimacy, they’d fallen away and resettled on your hips. The sticky thinness of your arousal smeared against your exposed skin kissed beautifully from the summer sun, and you knew she had every intention of making you walk through the mall with a patch of glimmering dampness adorning your body that you’d never have the courage to explain if someone questioned it. A deep blush settled across your cheeks, but Wanda wasn’t finished yet. Before you could reach out to her and tangle your fingers into the softness of her t-shirt, she was spinning you around and forcing your back against her chest. “Mommy’s not finished yet. Be a good girl and stay quiet while she checks something.” 

You’d almost had the chance to question her intentions before the words were stolen from between your bitten lips and the softest gasp of pleasure fell from you instead. Wanda’s fingers, still glistening with your arousal, had found a home beneath your skirt and against the base of the plug nestled deep within your ass. You’d only started trying the plugs out a couple weeks ago, but in that span of less than fourteen days they’d become something you adored and hated equally. The deep pleasure that came from constantly feeling full was insatiable and you craved it whenever Natasha pulled it out too soon, but you’ve grown to hate how every soft step shifted it against you perfectly, and especially how no matter which position you attempted to sit in it presses deeper and deeper into you without remorse. Wanda’s fingers circle the crimson red jewel framed between the globes of your ass, cheeks still pink from a spanking you’d received yesterday. The touch is soft, gentle, caring even, but when you think she’s about to pull away and end her little experiment, she taps harshly on the center plug twice, sending sparks of pleasure through your body and into your already fuzzy head. 

“So full for Mommy. Those panties are absolutely ruied, moya lyubov’.” Wanda pulls her hand out of your panties, spinning you back around in her arms and cradling you close to her chest as you shake and try to comprehend the fact that for right now, that simple touch was all you’d be getting. You’d think she almost felt an ounce of sympathy for your desperate form if she wasn’t wearing such a cocky smirk. “You’re being such a good girl, detka. Maybe we should keep you like this, huh? All full and eager to be fucked. Daddy could just bend you over anywhere and you’d take it, wouldn’t you?” Wanda preened into your ear, her words thick with lust and traces of an accent you’ve begun to memorize. You’re not sure whether to nod your head and agree, because it’s true, you’d let Natasha fuck you anywhere she wanted to right now, you’re not oblivious to the fact that she’s packing your favorite strap beneath those denim shorts adorning her toned legs, or to shake your head and beg for her to not let that happen. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive in this state for another couple hours, let alone for however long they deem acceptable. “Huh, answer Mommy, baby. Do you want Mommy to keep you like this forever? Want to be ready to use whenever Mommy and Daddy feel the need to take you?” 

“I-I want you, Mommy.” You pleaded, shaking your head frantically at the suggestion that rolls off of Wanda’s lips like its been imprinted onto the tip of her tongue for decades. The Sokovian smirks, drawing you in closer to her chest and letting her forehead rest against yours, her deep sage eyes peering into your soul with how intensely she stares down at you. 

“You have me, baby.” She soothed your downturned lips with a gentle kiss, her touch soft and smooth yet harboring a lingerance of artificial strawberry chapstick if you thought about her taste long enough. The embrace was fleeting, entirely too short, but it had your head spinning when she pulled away and greeted Natasha who you hadn’t even noticed had come up beside you. “Come on,” Wanda patted your ass deliberately, jostling the plug just softly enough to have you hyper aware of its presence but not earning pleasure. “we still have a couple of stores to hit.” 

“I was thinking we stop by that store you like, ducky. We can see if they have any of those little pins you were talking about?” Natasha places a firm hand on your back, her eyes kind but tinted with lust that has settled deep within her stare permanently since Wanda wiggled the plug between your cheeks. There’s a hint of knowingness in her smile, an indication that she knows perfectly well what had just happened between you and her wife. 

The proposition of spending another handful of hours surrounded by incompetent strangers with no regard for others and continuous sounds that blended into static chatter didn’t sound appealing, but unless you called red, they weren’t taking you home. Reluctantly, you took Natasha’s hand, allowing the lawyer to lead you out of the boutique and toward a store much more your style. Wanda’s hand stayed firm on the small of your back as Natasha took the lead, but your focus had fallen beneath the waves as you surrendered to them entirely. 

-

A desperate whine slipped past your lips as Wanda pulled you into her chest, toned arms still warm from the sun wrapping tightly around your torso and keeping you still. The dressing room was saturated in gold plated decor and embellishments, illuminated by a chandelier framed with dazzling crystals worth more than your entire college education. Natasha had dragged the both of you into the high-end designer store with the hopes of them having their new summer collection, and much to your annoyance, they did. The bold colored suits were a powerful statement, she’d look absolutely delectable in them, but that was exactly what you were worried about. The thought of her in a suit so expensive and sleek sent tingles through your belly that couldn’t just be ignored, especially not with your already existing desperation. Wanda wasn’t blind to your frustration, and she smirked wickedly down at you the second Natasha had slipped behind the heavy fitting room door. 

“Shh, Mommy just wants to check.” She whispered against the shell of your ear, a cold hand trailing up the inside of your thigh that is absolutely drenched with arousal. Your eyes burn into hers as you both become controlled by lust, already blown pupils somehow finding additional blackness to manipulate until the color in Wanda’s eyes is entirely vacant. Your bottom lip is bitten and quivering as you feel her fingers start to massage your slick coated folds, a shaky breath at the back of your throat desperate to be unleashed. “Oh, you’re so wet sweetheart. Did Mommy do this to you?” 

You nod shortly at her question, aware of how close the tips of her cold fingers are coming to your clit every time she strokes the length of your folds, but each time they never brush against your stiff and throbbing nerve, merely coming close enough to tease before they’re gone. She circles your entrance repetitively, pressing against it only to pull away seconds later and trail her fingers back down toward the plug, but she never fully grazes that either. She’s content to keep playing with your body like a toy in the middle of the fitting room, her lewd actions have entirely drowned out the sounds of Natasha throwing different articles of clothes around in the dressing room just a few feet behind you, your focus entirely on her and the sensations she’s provoking cautiously. 

“Oh she did? Mommy did this? What a little slut, getting so worked up and Mommy’s not even touching you fully. You’re so easy, dorogaya” Wanda continues to tease condescendingly, giving you not a single second of relief as she digs her fingers harder into your cunt on the last swipe across your panties before she’s hooking her fingers into the waistband and tugging them down. 

Your eyes go wide as you look up at her fully, your shoulders tensing as she keeps tugging the soiled garment down your thighs. “W-What are you doing?” Your skirt is short, it’s flowy and it’s thin but that was Natasha’s entire goal when she dressed you that morning. You know that despite the length every intimate part of your body is covered, but you weren’t prepared to challenge the wind once you stepped outside again. 

“Color?” Wanda stops her movements, her voice soft and kind as she keeps her eyes on you. Everything before this point had been a discussion that you’d had time to prepare yourself for, but this was unplanned and admittedly terrifying, and yet your belly clenched at the prospect of her undressing you in a public space and forcing you to walk around with no barrier to catch your arousal. 

“G-Green.” You mumbled back at her once you’d taken a second to collect your thoughts and swallow your shock. Wanda nodded curtly before she slipped right back into her role, eyes hard and jaw clenched as she continued pulling your panties down before tapping your thigh in a silent demand for you to step out of them. 

“Then stop talking and let Mommy do what she wants.”  Her voice was hard, leaving no space for you to argue, but you weren’t going to. You stepped out of your panties with a gentle wince, feeling their dampness against your shins before the sensation was gone entirely and Wanda was holding them up to the light to inspect. Your cheeks flushed in humiliation, watching her fingers swipe across the soaked material before she hummed and folded them up, shoving them into her back pocket like they were just a piece of paper she’d found on the ground. “Good girl.” 

You bristled beneath her praise, but your attention drifted away from her when you heard the door unlock and Natasha’s soft footsteps came stepping out slowly. There was no question about whether she had heard the entire exchange, but you had no time to pay attention to her cheeks flush with need as you drank in the sight of her in a hundred thousand dollar suit. If your eyes weren’t already blown wide with lust, they certainly were now as you gawked at her defined biceps and breasts, the suit drowning some of her more prominent features but highly accentuating others. A rippled whine fell off your tongue as your eyes memorized the sight, but so badly you wanted to rip it off her body and drag her home to appreciate her fully. 

“P-Please.” You just barely got the plea off of your lips as Wanda sparked up a conversation with her wife, commenting on the fit of the suit before she began her shower of compliments and praise. You’d gone ignored, or maybe they just hadn’t heard you, whatever the reason for their silence toward you, it only frustrated you further. “Daddy please!” You tried again, eyes wet and pleading as you held onto the little attention Natasha was providing you as her eyes danced away from Wanda’s and found yours beneath the bright LED lights. 

“Shh.” Wanda scolded, a finger coming up to sit on your lips as she turned her head to glare at you. It wasn’t intentional, but your lips had done it anyway. The second her finger, still soft from your arousal, brushed against your lips, you’d let your tongue poke out and lick at her finger, able to identify the traces of you that clung to her skin despite how she’d wiped her fingers clean on your outer thigh. Your lips wrapped around the digit, suckling and biting sweetly as the blanket over your mind became thicker and warmer. Wanda didn’t stop you, merely returned her attention to Natasha before the Russian nodded and disappeared back into the fitting room, hopefully changing back into her own clothes. “Mommy needs that back, little one.” Wanda said softly, gently easing her finger from between your lips when it became apparent that you weren’t going to relinquish it yourself. A pitiful whine came falling off the tip of your tongue when she pulled it away, but she merely smiled sweetly and kissed the top of your head. “Come on, Daddy’s gonna check out and then we’re going to go home.” 

You shook your head, absolutely appalled at the suggestion that you’d have to wait until you arrived home to get what you wanted. The mall wasn’t far, but an hour was a long time for someone who had been teased and dragged along relentlessly since the sun had first kissed the gravel paths that weaved and winded through Westview. 

“No?” Wanda furrowed her brows, looking down at you with nothing but softness in her still black and lust filled stare. She’d dropped the condescending tone, abandoned the fleeting touches and teasing, but the only thing that would fully cure the arousal in her eyes was getting a taste of your sweet pussy. 

The words felt heavy on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t last another hour without release, and so they found their way off of your lips before you could panic about the implications of your request, “Fuck me now.” 

Wanda’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but that look of shock that claimed her strong features had quickly become something sinister as she stepped closer to you, invading your personal space and allowed you the slightest tinge of her perfume as her chest came flush with yours and she let a single finger tilt your head upward to meet her heavy stare. “Yeah? You want your Daddy to put that strap to use and treat you like a filthy little slut where anyone can hear you crying out in pleasure? You want an audience, moya utenok?” 

A whimper filled the dressing room as your thighs pressed together, your lack of panties leaving the rush of arousal to drip nowhere by your thighs as you writhed beneath Wanda. A soft nod came next, and Wanda smirked proudly, mimicking your gesture before she stepped away entirely and turned her attention back to Natasha who had only just left the dressing room with the suit thrown over her forearm. 

“Hurry up, moya lyubov’. The little slut wants her Daddy to fuck her and who am I to say no to that?” Wanda taunted, grabbing your hand and leading you back out into the store, letting Natasha check out in peace as she occupied you with whispered promises of how the Russian was going to absolutely ruin you where anyone was around to watch. 

-

The only saving grace about Natasha’s car were the tinted windows that blocked out the eyes of anyone who dared to even get close to the Stingray. The seat was drenched in your arousal, thighs spread wide as you occupied almost the entire strip of leather. She’d need to clean the seats thoroughly when you got home, but for right now, neither of you cared. Your hands sunk into the cushioned row of seats as you pressed your ass out further, back arched and muscles strained as you dropped your forehead onto the window and watched with slitted eyes as your breath fogged up the glass. Wanda watched from the passenger seat, green eyes trained on your desperate form that reflected off the rearview mirror pointed downward. Natasha was pressed up against the door, shorts unzipped and hanging loosely over her hip bones as the strap stood at full attention, no longer confined beneath the stiff denim. 

Your skirt was bunched up around your hips, ass and thighs already red from various hits and spanks that the Russian had laid upon your ivory skin. She’d yet to touch you, but each hit that rocked the plug in your ass sent you reeling closer and closer to ultimate pleasure. All you could make out was white spots as they danced along your vision and intercepted the view of strangers and cars wrecking havoc in the parking lot around you. Even when a middle aged man and his wife had gotten close to the car, shopping bags in each of their hands that you could only assume was a pending return, you hadn’t focused much on what they could see from the outside. Your focus was entirely on Natasha, and yet the lawyer hadn’t done anything since bending you over. 

“D-Daddy please! I need you so bad! Please!” You cried out in desperation, back arching further as your nipples grazed the seats, your ass grinding against the strap that she refused to shove into you just yet. What she was waiting for, you didn’t know, but every agonizing second that passed was becoming longer and longer as you waited for relief to wash over you fully. Only she could get you to that point, and yet no matter how much you pleaded with her she didn’t cave. “P-Please!” A strangled cry slipped past your lips when her hand found your ass and her thumb pressed firmly on the jeweled plug nestled between your cheeks. 

“Shh.” The Russian coos. It’s the first sound that’s come to fill the car that wasn’t your own since she had aggressively shoved you into the backseat, and you greedily drink in the unspoken promise that what you want is coming soon. You have no time to prepare yourself for the intrusion of her strap as it slips between your folds and finds a home within your cunt in seconds, but you gasp so sweetly that Natasha doesn’t stop to give you a moment to adjust to the wide girth that’s splitting you open. You’ve wanted this for hours, she’s in no mood to drag your pleasure out any further, having already tested her own patience as she waited for Wanda’s silent permission to begin. You’d been oblivious to the curt nod that was given by the Sokovian, but as much as the game was in Natasha’s hands now, Wanda still held all the cards. “Do you feel that, malyshka? Feel Daddy’s cock splitting you open? Filling this slutty little pussy where anyone can see if they come close enough. I bet you’re so full. This pretty little plug has been driving you crazy all day, hasn’t it? Mommy picked out such a pretty color for you.” As the words drive you farther and farther into pleasure and submission, Natasha’s thumb presses against the plug and sends your mind spiraling downward into a sea of static energy. There’s a thick ringing in your ears that forces your mind to go blank, your hips that had been stuttering against her quick thrusts stilling as you surrendered your body to her control, willing to take whatever she gave you in this very moment. 

Natasha’s thrusts only grow faster as your moans and whines become softer and sweeter, desperation not only evident in the way your arousal soaks your thighs and the seats, but in the pitch of your moans as they fill the car and ricochet off the windows. You don’t have it in you to feel embarrassed by how loud you’re being, your only focus is taking the pleasure and not letting it slip away again. A broken cry leaves your lips as Natasha’s hand finds your clit, thumb rubbing circles on the sensitive nub as she winds you tighter and tighter. Her own thrusts are becoming choppy and quick, groans of pleasure harmonizing with yours until the entire car is just an explicit symphony of intimacy. Wanda’s eyes haven’t left you once, but you can’t see her with the way you’re bent and arched over. Natasha can, and she curses beautiful in Russian as she gives you the green light to let go. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Cum for me. Cum on Daddy’s strap.” She encourages gently, her thrusts growing harsher as she chases her own pleasure and orgasms with a delicate moan, though it's quickly drowned out by your own sobs and cries of bliss as you writhe beneath her heavy hands and let the coil snap in your belly. Your body shakes in the aftermath, arms giving out on you as you crash against the leather seats and subsequently pull your cunt off of her strap, the glistening material catching rays of sunlight before she quickly tucks it back into her shorts and zips them up. “You did so good for us, malyshka. So so good.” Natasha kisses the bottom of your spine, her fingers working on the plug in your ass simultaneously. Wanda maneuvered herself in the passenger seat, her hand reaching out to just barely brush against your upper back as well. “Relax for me, angel. Let Daddy take this plug out and then we’ll go home.” She talks you through the process, but nothing prepares you for how empty you feel when the metal is no longer flush against your walls keeping you full. A strangled whimper falls off your lips before it’s gently drowned out by shushing and shuffling. Natasha, unwilling to let you go through aftercare in a crowded parking lot all twisted up, opens the door and steps out of the car, nodding for Wanda to occupy a seat in the back beside you. “Mommy’s gonna sit back here with you, and Daddy’s gonna take us home. Just let go, honey. It’s all okay.” 

It doesn’t take longer than five minutes for Wanda to be sat beside you, your body curled up into her chest and void of a seatbelt. Typically she’d scold you for such a behavior, but all she does now is hold you tighter and kiss your head, promising that you’ll be home soon and there will be plenty of cuddles and kisses all wrapped up beneath the heavy blankets on the bed.

[luffington]

hello!! 🩷 may i request a doflamingo and corazon x fem!reader (nsfw)? these brothers are very much different from one another so i feel like corazon would always scold doffy for being mean to y/n lol. but somehow corazon himself also has a nasty streak in him when he's fucking her and doffy knows it

✧.* art credit!

➤ pairing: donquixote doflamingo x afab!reader x donquixote rosinante (corazon)

➤ word count: 1.7k

➤ warnings: threesome, oral (m receiving), choking, bondage, degradation, creampie, corazon is mute, she/her for reader

nothing physical happens between doffy and cora but doffy is still a freak so read at your own risk!

ugHHHH the concept ever!!!! i think about this so much more than i should.... there's no way cora's a 100% pure virtuous angel boy he's gotta have some very repressed darkness in him

i briefly threw this in but i LOVE the idea of doffy being weirdly possessive of the name rosinante and who gets to call him that. their dynamic is sooooo interesting but we'll never see more of it thanks oda >:(

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

The Donquixote brothers didn’t want to look like each other. But stripped bare and shadowed in dim bedroom light, the similarities were uncanny.

Soft blonde hair ruffled by your fingers and slicked back from sweat. Long and lanky limbs, big hands that felt calloused when they ran across your naked skin. Perfectly sculpted bodies littered with decades worth of scars. You had only seen the older brother without sunglasses one time, and their strikingly beautiful eyes side by side made your breath catch in your throat. 

This bizarre situation began many months ago, not long after you joined the Donquixote Family. At first, you could easily figure out which brother was touching you – the soft kisses of a gentle giant or the fangs of a hungry beast. Doflamingo had actually blindfolded you once for that exact purpose with the promise of rewarding you if you got every answer correct. And you did. But you hated not being able to see Corazon, and hated how much Doflamingo enjoyed taking away his brother’s only form of communication.

Now, it was harder to tell them apart.

Strings wrapped around your waist, your thighs, your tits. Kept your hands tightly bound behind your back. Doflamingo had you speared on his cock and bounced you up and down with marionette motions like an actual puppet. His massive length stretched your insides delightfully and kissed the tip of your cervix with every thrust. He intentionally positioned your back to his chest so you could look at his brother, sitting cross-legged in front of you near the edge of the bed. Corazon’s gaze lingered on your debauched expression and the way your soft flesh bulged around Doflamingo’s too-tight strings. Jaw hanging slack as he stroked off his own dick, long and veiny and already beginning to leak precum. 

The younger’s face paint was almost completely smeared off – streaks of maroon coated your mouth like badly applied lipstick and littered your inner thighs. Practically indistinguishable from the red lines inflicted by Doflamingo’s strings. 

“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Doflamingo purred. His brother nodded immediately as if in a trance. “What a pretty little toy.”

Corazon didn’t like that term. He would never treat you like an object the way his brother did – he cherished you as he believed any partner should be. But he couldn’t deny how the thought of using you for his own pleasure made his cock twitch, especially since you enjoyed it. You were so pliant and willing for him, for both of them. 

Satisfied by the younger’s response, Doflamingo wrapped a large hand around your throat, his long fingers digging into the delicate skin. You coughed and sputtered as your airway was slowly cut off. Corazon immediately stopped jerking off to grab the pen and notepad next to him, quickly scribbling ‘Too rough!!!’ in his messy handwriting and angrily holding it in front of his brother. 

The older man chuckled, but released your neck and stroked over his fingerprint marks in mock kindness. 

You leaned forward to kiss Corazon, who clumsily knocked his nose against yours in his haste to reciprocate. It was truly baffling how one brother could make your heart melt with fondness while the other rearranged your guts. Corazon kissed you languidly, content to take his time and savor the feeling of your tongues swirling together.

“You taste like cigarettes,” you giggled. He always did, but the taste was especially fresh and potent, making your head spin pleasantly. 

Corazon frowned and signed ‘I’m sorry’. 

“Don’t apologize, I like it. It tastes like you.” He grinned in response. Corazon was actually just beginning to learn sign language, since he hadn’t needed it before his current mission, and you took the time to learn to communicate with him. It made his heart swell with love.

Doflamingo frowned at the tender moment and abruptly pushed your head into his brother’s lap. “Well, don’t just fucking stare at him. Be a good slut and suck Rosi off.”

Rosinante. What a beautiful name. You wished you were always allowed to use it, not just when you were alone with him. Doflamingo would break your legs if he heard you utter the sacred name which only true Donquixotes were permitted to say.

Corazon gave his brother another dirty glare, but covered his mouth and fought to hold back a moan when you kitten-licked the base of his cock, suckling on his balls delicately. He wished his soundproofing abilities came with a control panel – it was nearly impossible for him to stay silent with your perfect mouth on him, but he needed to hear your sweet moans as you lapped at his dick. 

Your head jerked back suddenly in time with a twitch of Doflamingo’s fingers. “Pathetic whore can’t follow directions? I said suck.” He forced your head down again without giving you time to open your mouth. Your string-controlled movements made you awkwardly rub your cheek against the head of Corazon’s cock, smearing precum on your skin. 

The younger immediately started scribbling another angry note. But then you ran your tongue along the part of his length you could reach and he dropped his notepad, too consumed by pleasure to finish his thought. 

You finally wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, causing Corazon to let out a shaky sigh. “Better, right?” Doflamingo smiled sadistically, pushing your head further down his brother’s dick. The older blonde fucked you deep and slow, making you feel every vein and ridge of his cock as you rose just to harshly slam you down to the base. 

One of Corazon’s hands rested on the back of your head as you bobbed up and down. He watched with hooded eyes as you slurped along his cock, little bits of drool running past your lips and dripping down to his balls. You were so close to fitting his entire length in your throat – a truly impressive feat – and you pushed yourself a bit farther than you could handle. When your throat constricted in protest, Corazon couldn’t help but hold you down and throw his head back with parted lips. Your gag reflex immediately kicked in and you choked around his cock, lungs desperately seeking air but his hand stayed locked in place. You looked up at him pleadingly and found a sense of twisted wonder in his eyes. His lips quirked into a fascinated smile as he wiped away a drop of moisture spilling from your eye. 

When your moans became louder and more insistent, Corazon let you go. You pulled off of his dick, sputtering and gasping for air, chin coated in your own saliva. It took him a moment to snap back to reality and realize that the wetness he felt was a teardrop. 

‘Are you okay?’ He signed in a panic, followed by frantic gestures of, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry–’

“Don’t worry. I’m okay.” You reassured him with a smile as he apologetically wiped away any remaining traces of tears. “You liked it, right? Making me gag?”

Corazon looked away, feeling incredibly guilty and irredeemably dirty.

Doflamingo cackled, stilling his movements with his cock buried deep inside you. “Did you just apologize for getting good head? Oh, poor little Rosi.”

The younger flipped to a blank page and wrote ‘Choking isn’t good’. Almost as a reminder to himself.

“It is under the right circumstances,” his brother replied coolly.

You rolled your eyes – their extremely different concepts of morality sometimes gave you a headache. Turning back to glare at the older blonde, you retorted, “You’re talking about consent. Consensual choking is fine.” 

“Oh, right. Forgot the word.” Doflamingo teased. His puppet strings pulled you upright, away from Corazon’s pretty pink dick which was clearly close to cumming. He would never turn his precious little brother into a plaything with his abilities – he wasn’t a complete degenerate. So Doflamingo kindly opted to grab a handful of Corazon’s hair and yank his head against your chest. “Play with her tits. You can fuck her when I’m done.”

Your breasts bounced as Doflamingo sped up his movements, squished together and emphasized by the nearly invisible strings wrapped around them. Corazon licked his lips hungrily before wrapping them around a nipple and loudly sucking. You whined as his tongue swirled around the bud, rolling your other nipple gently between his fingers. Doflamingo wrapped his hand around your neck again, but this time, he didn’t apply any pressure. He left it there as a constant presence – a reminder for you and an example for his brother.

“So fucking close,” he grunted, bouncing you faster and harder. “Gonna cum inside. Rosi, you okay with sloppy seconds?” Corazon knew it was a rhetorical question, but he would never tear himself away from your breasts to answer, anyways. The older shoved his hand between your bodies to thumb at your clit until both of you reached your peak, crying out in utter bliss. 

Doflamingo held you flush against his hips as he came, hot sticky spurts of semen flooding your insides as he whispered his fucked up version of sweet nothings in your ear – “such a perfect dirty whore, taking every drop of my cum like the cocksleeve you are”. Corazon eagerly watched your face contort with pleasure as he continued to suckle on your nipple. His own cock ached, but he didn’t risk touching it. Cumming inside you, seeing you make that blissful expression for him, outweighed his urgent desire. 

Your body automatically lifted off of Doflamingo’s cock, globs of cum dripping out of your cunt and onto the bedsheets below. You had barely settled on the bed when he withdrew his strings, leaving you to practically collapse with sore limbs and no support. Doflamingo shifted towards the headboard and stole a cigarette from his brother’s pack. He lit the end, inhaled deeply, and got comfortable to watch the show. 

Corazon pressed his lips against yours gently, slowly guiding you to lie flat on your back. He made a thumbs up and raised his eyebrows in question. “Yes, I’m ready,” you smiled at your sweet boy. 

His cock entered you slowly, tenderly, accompanied by the lewd shlick of the cum already inside you. Neither of you dared to acknowledge whose cum it was. When you looked up, you saw feathery blonde bangs, fading face paint, soft and loving eyes, and a perfect replica of Doflamingo’s smile.

[shoomlah]

how do you consistently draw the same character without it looking weird or off every different time?? also how do i coordinate faces, i always make the eyes too far apart or too big or too small or make the mouth too close to the nose or chin edge. If you have any advice I'd really appreciate it since it looks like you have your art shit figured out 🙏

Oh man SO so much of it is just practice, and you're not alone! I honestly think everyone struggles with a sort of "generification" of their characters' features the more they draw them, even seasoned professionals. There's a tendency to just sort of average everything out into an unrecognizable mush over time, and it takes a lot of conscious effort to push back against that.

Here are a couple tips and tricks that I've found to be helpful over the years:

Make turnarounds and model sheets. There's a reason animation/game studios do this, and it is because we are all still bad at drawing a consistent face. Despite being gainfully employed. What are we, graphic novelists?? We wish. Anyway it's a great way to familiarize yourself with your character's face from multiple angles, and it gives you a single source of truth to return to anytime you need a refresher:

Gather real-life reference. Anytime I'm designing a character I'm pulling together a ton of reference of actual people who look, to some degree, like the character in my head. It's always a collection of analogues, never just a single person, but it can be a great cheat sheet for understanding how your character might move, emote, etc:

Make a 3D model. I know it seems daunting, but with the advent of programs like Blender and Nomad Sculpt it's becoming remarkably more accessible. Heck, even James Gurney was sculpting maquettes out of clay for Dinotopia back in the day! It doesn't have to be particularly detailed—just a sort of proportionate lump will do—but it's another great way to have dynamic reference that you can rotate and light accordingly:

Practice, practice, practice. Make expression sheets for your character! Either right there on the spot, just start drawin' expressions, or you can slowly collect drawings of your character that you like, as you draw them, and compile them all in one place for your own reference. Need to draw your character's head from a weird angle? Maybe you've already drawn it before and you can copy your own homework! Doesn't count as stealing when the call's coming from inside the house 😎

I'd love to pretend there's a magical point where you can just immediately rotate your character's head in your brain like some sort of photorealistic apple in a twitter meme, but a lot of the time it's reference, hard work, and whole lotta repetition. 😐👍��

[brattyboy]

Set, Camera, Action

Requested - San Choix Male Reader - Word Count: 1,241 words - MDI

Synopsis: Y/n is a renown model and actor, who rose to fame especially after being revealed to some of the media as San's in secret husband. It was another busy day filled with filming and photoshoots until your husband passed by urgently after seeing your latest magazine photos in lingerie clothes. A matter which he quoted needed "urgent intervention".

"Why is it that I have to share your beauty with others when it's mine to keep?"

He whispered softly as he was tracing kisses along your neck. You were already used to his possessiveness and you both knew that it was during those moments that you would express your love the most to each other. Here you were gripping on his arms trying to make too much noise as he devours you slowly pressing you further, your back against the wall.

"S-san... Let's solve this issue at home~ P-please..."

You tried to stop and convince him, too afraid to get caught in such an intimate moment. After all, everyone knew about the dynamics between you two but neither of you could make it public as to preserve your public image.

"This time I'll make sure everyone knows whose name you scream every night. I'll give them a freebie of my own show~"

He said as he tossed you over the couch beside the dresser mirror. You didn't even bother to resist his desires because seeing him all dominant as he was slowly unbuttoning his shirt only fueled your drive.

"God you look just way too good in those~ It would be a shame to tare them apart, but you know I like to solve my business skin-to-skin~"

He whispered softly as he approached your face leaving nearly no distance between you too. Gazing at your lips he couldn't hold back from biting your lower lip before fully attacking them. This only led you to respond as you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer and allowing him to enter deeper inside your mouth, both of your tongue swirling and twirling for dominance.

"Take those off... Let me touch you, San... Please..."

You pleaded with begging siren eyes, and who was he to say no to your requests? He skillfully discarded his shirt, putting on display his well-sculpted figure, from chest, to abs, to arms and shoulders. A piece of art only for you to worship and adore. You lifted your back up as you gently started placing kisses along his chest, while your hand was palming his evident tent. You let your hand slip inside feeling him, veiny, girthy and erect, you just knew you were about to receive a good dicking. That's when a cocky idea came to your mind as you leaned near his ear to whisper.

"Daddy must have been really tired lately~ How about I help you relax a little? All you have to do is sit back and enjoy the show~"

"Fuck... Y/n... You better take responsibility for what's about to happen tonight... If you keep going at it I might not be able to go easy on ya~"

"But who ever said I wanted you to?"

You replied with a smirk as you pushed him back up and kneeled down on your knees between his thighs. God you were looking so fuckable to him right but he knew that good things are always saved for the last. He contemplated your swiftly moves as you unzipped his pants and pulled them down, revealing his erect dick slapping against his abs. You grabbed between your hands kissing the tip gently and showering it with licks. San couldn't hold himself from hissing at your maneuvers.

"Baby quit the teasing or else I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

He threatened as he grabbed your hair, that's when you knew that you were better off gaging over his cock than test his limits. Your mouth engulfed fully with all its might, hitting the back of your throat. His size really did match his name - mountain. You would be lying if you didn't acknowledge the pleasure you felt knowing that you were the only one capable of turning this cocky beast into a needy moaning freak with just your mouth. Your pace gradually increased all thanks to San's forced mouth-fucking, his thrusts slowly became erratic and you could already taste his precum flooding out. That's when he pulled out huffing and looked down at you while he was slightly drenched in his sweat. He leaned in giving your clothed pussy a loud smack before commanding you.

"Face down on the couch and ass up now."

It was finally time for the part you've been waiting for. After all your hole has been aching and itching since the start of this make out session and you both knew what was needed to solve this issue. You followed his commands while deliberately discarding your pants, leaving your pussy on full display. San kneeled down his face right in front of your gaping your hole, holding both butt cheeks between his hands, he leaned forward as he slowly intruded his tongue inside, devouring every taste he would get.

"S-san your tongue is going at it a l-little too strong~"

You moaned out trying to catch your breath as he was eating you out, but let's be real, he couldn't care less. He kept on savoring every lick of your ass as if it was an open feast. Once he felt that your hole has become loose enough, he got up and positioned his dick facing your entrance. You could feel his tip teasing you slowly as he pushed it in and out, allowing you to slowly adjust to what was about to happen.

"Won't you ram it up my ass already?"

You asked unconsciously in a bitchy tone, and it was at that moment that San slammed himself fully into you, causing you to let out disrupted pleas and moans every time he thrusted into you. Despite having done it so many times, his size would never fail to amaze you. The feeling of his dick rubbing against your walls as he used you as his own fleshlight was all you needed to reach ecstasy.

"Fuck y/n your walls are so warm I might melt inside of you~ You like feeling my cock molding your insides as I please my little sex toy, don't you? Now tell me, who's the only one capable of taming that slutty pussy of yours hm? Tell everyone who makes sure to keep you filled up every night~"

He started moaning aloud making sure the neighboring rooms were able to hear him. He was gradually increasing his pace and sinful moans and skin claps filled the room. He eventually grabbed your hands holding them steady in one hand and gripped on your hips with the other. That's when the beast within him awoke as he pounded you mercilessly and at an animalistic pace.

"Only you S-san... You're the only one who can make me feel this g-good~ I'm only made to satisfy daddy's pleasures and n-nobody else's~"

"Fuck yeah bitch~ Good thing you know where you stand around here~"

You two went on about it until you felt your climax piling up which lead you to spurt out all of the stored cum you had - trust me you went overboard with that. Which also led you to unintentionally clench too hard on San's cock, pushing to cum and fill you up on the spot. Both of you eventually fell forward drenched in cum and sweat as you caught your breaths and drifted away, your arms surrounding each other's bodies. Let's just say that after this, nobody even bother to check up on you having known the show that was rolling inside.

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

˗ˏˋ Arthur Morgan Modern!AU Headcanons ´ˎ˗

To answer this ask from the lovely @crystalofmoon19 , I got to think a bit more deeply about what a modern!AU Arthur could be. This absolutely stunning Arthur pic is from @arthurmorgan-vp!

JOB ´ˎ˗

Has a job that means a lot to him and is totally dedicated when doing it.

Arthur flourishes when helping others. I saw a Chartur fanart that portrayed him as a nurse and god I love this idea. He's emotionally VERY tough, making him efficient even in difficult and stressful times when a patient's life is in his hands. He's also a practical person who needs to have a concrete, manual aspect in his work. On top of that, we have the whole "service to society" aspect.

Police officer could also fit this dynamic. (I know it's pretty ironic considering he's a criminal in the canon but it's one of these jobs where he could put his strength into action to help others).

Also, without the need to survive and do criminal acts, with a caring family who could push him in the right ways, he also could have a job in arts. Arthur canonically is a curious and inventive person, he draws every little thing he finds interesting around him and cares for places, characters and events most people wouldn’t. I could picture him as an illustrator/concept artist. Or tattoo artist too? Why not.

HOBBIES ´ˎ˗

Sooooo artsy.

If he works at the hospital, he needs to have a sketchbook to just write and draw like in the canon. With other mediums being way more accessible nowadays, I think he could also paint and even sculpt from time to time.

Art helps him to get dark thoughts out of his head and focus on something when life gets hard.

However, if he already works in an artsy field, I think he would need to get up and move after a whole day sitting and would love to just go jogging, hiking, and taking long walks in nature. A combat sport could also do the work, as Arthur has an important code of honor: a discipline like Judo or Wrestling could help him get all his pent-up energy out while respecting his opponent; boxing could work too.

100% have a Polaroid and takes pictures of good times and his close ones every chance he gets. His bedroom/apartment is full of objects that carry an emotional value to him.

MODERN THINGS HE LIKES ´ˎ˗

Barbecues.

Would wear the ugliest apron and cap while doing them btw. And doesn't see what the problem is.

Classical rock music and vinyl. Thinking about Led Zepplin, The Stones, The Doors. Vintage music all the way. Has a secret soft spot for Lady Gaga though. Don't tell John. And (not-so) hot take, it's Hosea who introduces him to his old blues and rock records (Dutch prefers Jazz music.)

Camping and long hiking trips. Trekking when he feels really adventurous.

Going to the cinema. (100% eats salty popcorn and messes with John during the film if it's a family outing.)

In modern days Arthur would have been born in 1988. This means he was a '90s kid: he fondly remembers VHS tapes, baggy jeans, his old PlayStation One, maybe watching the first episodes of Pokémon, too. He's canonically such a nostalgic.

Would 100% make his own mix on cassette tapes btw

Flannels. I picture him with comfy rather than fancy clothes. He would also have a big leather jacket or vintage bomber for winter. And a leather bag like this one where important work papers are mixed with random trinkets found on his hikes.

RANDOM LITTLE FACTS ´ˎ˗

Arthur is so messy (I mean look at his tent). His car (Hosea's old one) is also a complete mess, cups, leftovers from meals, CDs, work stuff and random objects cover every possible inch of it.

Talking about it, looooves to drive. Totally do it with one hand on the wheel. And with good music ofc. (He would put his other hand on your thigh)

Has a dog. Or wants one deeply. A big one. And he definitely wants a lot of animals once he has a bigger house with you.

I said he could be a tattoo artist. I think he would have a tattoo, of an animal. Of course, we as a fandom thinks of the deer, but it has to be something meaningful to him. Maybe the animal who inspires him the most, or one they have seen in the wild with John during a walk in the woods.

Arthur is not a good cook. Buys a lot of food telling himself this time, he will succeed at making this damn dish. Biggest mess ever, ingredients everywhere on the floor, the walls, his body and hair. Pure chaos. Everything burns. Kitchen ends up on fire. Uses the internet as last hope, tries to watch as many tutorials as possible but it doesn't help+his phone ends up covered in egg white, flour, and wet ingredients. Throws away the food and gives up, orders a pizza.

Repeat previous paragraph every time he wants to try a new dish he saw somewhere.

(The phone is okay because he has the strongest and largest phone case ever. The kind of enormous one made to protect phones in building zones, for his hikes. It's pitch black.)

Overall I'd say a Modern!AU Arthur would probably be a bit happier even though still very nostalgic and melancholic at times (without the constant need to run away and kill people, his mental health would be much better.)

Important disclaimer: these are my personal thoughts, they could totally be shitty, I'm not at all claiming this is the absolute truth about him. A character is always subject to a personal interpretation, therefore anyone could picture him differently! Btw, I would love to hear your thoughts about it!

Thanks for reading! I hope you liked my silly little ideas.

I'm thinking about doing a part.2 where we could dive into his habits, his relationships with family, friends and s/o and other little fun facts. Let me know if I should! -Pine 🌱

[takes1]

omg if ur requests r still open… let me start off by saying i ate your tsukki series right up it scratched my needy loser itch SO WELL 😭😭 so much so im coming to you as a woman and begging you to do a needy oikawa scenario headcanon fic ANYTHING!!!! like i’d love a pathetic loser oikawa whos like perchance… crushing on one of the members of the girls team of seijoh…? 🫢

i’ll literally take anything u write atp that tsukki series was so fucking good that i literally put off studying for my finals to wait for ur updates instead 😭 i hope u know ur an excellent writer n wish u a very well day!!! 🤍🤍

god this request made my damn dayy!! ilysm. you're the best. i'm so glad you liked the tsukki series!! i've been waiting around for people start requesting! i love writing needy men, they're so dynamic

warnings. none. sfw, but hard-on mentioned so minors DNI info. hq fluff / yearning / needy!oikawa / loser!oikawa / volleyball team!reader / ace!reader / kind of popular!reader / oikawa getting hard talking to you / oikawa crushing / seijoh losing a match / iwa being a good friend / 1k words 🤍haikyuu collection. more of my hq here more links. my ao3 / masterlist / request box is open and empty, so give me some ideas pls!

"Come on, dumbass- the bus is here," Iwaizumi reached out to grab Oikawa's wrist to keep him from lingering any longer at the entrance to the gym floor.

"Give me two seconds," Oikawa spat. He swatted away his teammate's attempt to haul him from his vantage point.

Iwaizumi sucked his teeth and muttered something under his breath.

For once, Oikawa didn't pay it any mind. He had to see you spike. He had to watch you win.

The ball spun up, perfect and slow for your setter- his clammy hands clenched at the soaked number on his jersey. You leaped up for it. He froze that moment in time, your perfect form, perfect body, perfect force, all sculpted for this sport you both loved and dedicated yourselves to. It was a frame he could worship until the end of time.

You gave a brutal and strong slam, clean and cutthroat, that connected to the linoleum on the other side of the court.

"YEAAAAHHHHH!!"

The cries of the audience, your team, a double whistle, and the pounding of his own heart for you filled his ears. He couldn't hear the reinforcements Iwaizumi had sent to drag him away so they could leave.

It didn't matter now.

None of them were in the mood to entertain his sensitivities, since they hadn't had as much luck as you against Karasuno.

That being said, he wasn't the only one who was happy the girl's team had managed to make it. It made their group jogging back to catch the bus just a bit less out-of-sorts.

Though his plan was to speak to you first thing that next morning about the match, it never worked that way.

You were the epitome of untouchable, surrounded by many friends and always smiling at something they said to you- he couldn't stomach the possibility of you not smiling at him the same way.

But you were magnetic; as soon as he gave up on the line he prepared for you, he would watch your perfect smile light up the room and have a brand-new, better one.

Yet, a mere, "Hey," Was all he could manage on his best days when your teams switched for practice, between his own admirers never leaving him alone, and your always-occupied attention.

He wasn't enough to catch your eye.

That alone stumped him, because he never had a problem with this before you.

There was a noisy little songbird outside the window, right next to him on the other side of the glass, practically egging him on.

His gaze flitted from the bird over to your desk for the final, innumerable time that class. The heavy head in his hand tilted, studying the way you played with your hair, in hopes to replicate it.

God, if you were his, you would never have to worry about brushing it. He'd be at your beck and call, anything you needed, he would search Heaven and Earth for it.

He sighed through his nose, hand over his mouth.

There was a pain in his eyes.

You copied the last few pieces from the textbook to your notes and brushed away some eraser marks from your desk. A steady, cute, focus on your brow.

The bell rang for lunch.

A fluttering of wings and the bird he was watching was far away now, soaring through the partly cloudy sky. He turned back to you and his heart sank.

There were already guys at your desk congratulating you on your win.

You grinned and mentioned your team's hard work, casual and cool, and took your lunch out as they walked away.

He couldn't let himself be forgotten. With a bit too much enthusiasm he stood and his chair scraped the floor, loud.

Only a few people turned to look and you were thankfully not one of them.

No time to think-- just going for it, he belted out at the side of your desk,

"I saw you win the match."

What the fuck did he just say?

You glanced up at him. He didn't mean to say that, exactly. He should've just said congrats. His face filled with struggle.

"Oh!" You wiped your mouth, "Yeah, I saw you guys walking out, I wanted to talk to you!"

He stumbled over his words, unable to think clearly enough to take a second to breathe, "Y-eah, the bus- was there--."

"The girls watched you guys, too. I'm sorry about what happened."

His face was starting to get warm, and just his luck, two of his most common groupies were stalking you with dark looks at the door. He was fumbling so bad. Of course you watched him lose.

You looked down for a moment, "That was a tough match."

In doing so, you remembered that monster serve that made you jump out of your seat.

You giggled, "Oh man, but that serve of yours!!"

His chest puffed up, filled with a newfound pride that mended every lackluster attempt he ever had at getting your attention.

"That was so fucking cool!"

Heat crept up his neck, goosebumps all over his arms so bad he had to cross them. He was blushing ear to ear.

A choked sound preceded his uneven voice, "You saw that?"

"Y-eaaah, I mean," He was making it worse already, but you were grinning up at him. How could he not keep trying to impress you?

"-They're better way better at practice, ya know."

"Oh, yeah?" An unwanted, deep voice egged on from his side.

He jumped away from Iwaizumi, whom he made plans to meet with for lunch, now standing with his arms crossed and an unimpressed brow line.

You both shared an amicable wave before he slapped a broad hand on the back of Oikawa's neck to direct him away and let you eat in peace.

It was arguably in his best interest, but Oikawa scrambled out of his grip as soon as he was in the hallway, pissed that he was abducted just as it was getting good.

"The fuck?" He snapped, rubbing the hot spot just under his hairline.

Iwaizumi, not about to tolerate his attitude like he did yesterday, rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets. He started walking towards their usual spot with a smirk that his friend couldn't see.

He called over his shoulder, "You should really tuck that, dude."

The few students in the hallway watched his back, some in amusement, some in carnal curiosity, as he panicked for a moment, faced a corner -beet red and muttering-, and did just so.

my masterlist.

please send requests!

thanks again anon for the send, hope you like!! <3

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere coworker (part 7)

Tw: non con touching and kissing, reader being cringe on main, cyprus being a horndog as usual

Masterlists, part 1, part 8

You had a mild fever and didn't realize it. You can't believe that it took Cyprus of all people to figure it out. Maybe it's the adrenaline and anxiety that's keeping you chock full of energy.

It was embarrassing when you saw the doctor glancing at the very visible Hickey Cyprus left on your neck. But she doesn't seem to care, all she said was to try and not be so stressed even if it's hard. Because that is most likely whatever is causing your immune system to weaken.

Overall, it's nothing too serious. You just needed a couple of paracetamols and a night of rest. She advised you to come back if any other symptoms arise. You accepted the medical certificate that allows you to be absent from work for 24 hours.

Cyprus paid the bills and collected your medication for you despite your protests and whining about how you can cover it yourself. It isn't because you didn't want to burden him, it's because you knew Cyprus would use this against you later.

You were curled into a pathetic ball on his couch, finally feeling the effects of your fever despite eating a couple of pills earlier. Cyprus made you rest your head on his lap as he watches TV. His arm hanging off the back of the sofa, while the other tangled his fingers in your hair.

He told you that the match doesn't start until later at night, you should take a nap.

You told him straight up that you don't want to, and you rather sleep at home alone. He simply rolled his eyes and huffed at your difficultness.

There was a beat of silence before you asked him another question; why you, out of all the other women he could have pulled? There are others who wanted this... Dynamic between him and them.

"I told you." He leaned in. "You're the only respectful one in that office- you're fishing for compliments, aren't you?" A teasing smirk made it's way to his face.

You vehemently denied, saying that you're no different than anyone else. You bring nothing to the table.

He laughed. "You bring your cute little ass to the table." Cyprus brought his digits to your sides, tickling you to the point of cackling. "You're just what I want. What I need. A genuine, humble, pretty girl for me to spoil rotten."

You tried swatting his hands away, but he ended up firmly pushing you off him and onto the soft cushions, before you could do anything else, Cyprus is already straddling your hips. He grinned as he sees you squirming under him, you had nowhere to escape since he's caging you between his sculpted arms.

"You're such a princess too. So small and so weak against me." He whispered in your ears before brushing his lips against the side of your neck. "I love it. I know I'll love fucking my princess in bed too."

You whined and mewled as he assaulted your jaw with kisses, you couldn't move your head because he was grabbing handfuls of your hair.

You felt yourself heating up, you're unsure whether it's due to your fever or something else.

"But you're not ready yet..." He mumbled against your skin and ceased all movements, he's draped over you like a weighted blanket. Finally, he lifted himself off you, but still hovering over your form.

"You're still so shy." He kissed your forehead, yet his lips never parted with you. "So... meek." Cyprus continued talking. He pulled away and stared deep into your eyes, you noted that his glasses weren't on his face anymore.

"Loosen up, baby. I will make you feel good." Purred Cyprus as he slowly slid his hand under your shirt, feeling up your bare skin.

You stared back while holding your breath, eyes wide and cautious. He snorted and grinned.

"You're so funny, doll. I like your cute, little reactions." He retracted his hand and returned to his original seat beside you.

"Happy now?" He laughed at your flustered state. "Want more? I can give you more. Trust me, I have a lot more to say." Cyprus licked his lips while eyeing you sleazily.

You frantically shook your head, that was enough. You're convinced that he likes you for something that you're trying to get rid of: Your pushover trait. Well, you can't start swinging at him. He's still quadruple your size and you would like to keep all your teeth in your gums.

He guffawed, putting his glasses back onto his face. You flinched when he brought the back of his hand close to you, but somewhat relaxed when you realized that he was only trying to check your temperature.

Cyprus then checked the time on his watch. He got up to go elsewhere but came back a few minutes later with a glass of crisp, refreshing water and your pills.

You muttered a thanks as you went ahead and took another dose.

"Screw the match." You turned your head to him as you took a gulp.

"I'm not going." He slumped back onto the sofa, having his steely grey eyes trained on the television.

You asked why. He narrowed his eyes at you, pointing the remote control at the monitor as he changed the channel.

"My girl is sick. I don't like seeing their ugly mugs and we haven't had dinner yet." You continued staring at him.

"Duh." He concluded his sentence before tossing the remote control onto your lap.

You said that you can take care of yourself. You told him to just let you go home and you'll be out of his hair.

"I don't want you to get out of my hair." He got up and walked to the kitchen. You twisted your head and saw that he was rolling his sleeves up.

Cyprus opened the fridge door to collect the ingredients for dinner. "I'll be taking care of you. What fucking bastard wouldn't care for his girlfriend?"

You said you don't want him to. And you never agreed to be his woman in the first place, you do not care about him as a person at all. You're only here because he kept stealing your belongings, you asked him where your bags are.

"Soap operas are on channel 132, Reality TV, 123." He cut you off as he washed his hands.

You frowned. You said Cyprus is going to let the organizers down.

"And you think I give a crap?" He shot back, putting a metal pot on the stove.

You said they might not let him participate in the future.

"So?" He began julienning some carrots skillfully on a chopping board, you wonder if he had any prior culinary experience with the way he would slice through the vegetable with such precision and speed.

He might... lose his friends? his reputation? And feel bad? You don't know how else to put it.

Cyprus simply hummed and fell into silence, focusing on his cooking instead. You wonder how he could chop a whole onion without tearing up, its invisible fumes are already stinging your eyes at this distance.

You said that he should at least give them a call that he's not coming tonight.

"You know, for someone who doesn't give a damn about me 'as a person', you sure do care a lot. About me." He drizzled some olive oil into the pot. "...As a person." Cyprus continued.

You said that it's common courtesy. You felt bad for the audience and the ones who invited him.

Cyprus scoffed as he went ahead to chop some potatoes. "Are you bored, doll?" He asked. "If you wanted to help out with dinner, you could have just said so."

You're actually bored without your phone, you would take anything at this point to entertain you. The TV isn't showing you anything good. So you asked if there was anything he could let you do.

"You could take a nap." He nonchalantly replied, sauteeing the onions he prepared earlier.

You said you don't want to. You don't trust him.

"Then, let's talk." His eyes never flitted towards you, always on his workbench and stove. "How do you like your foreplay?" Cyprus went on to cut a slab of chicken breast into small cubes, and he threw them into the pot.

You said you don't want anything to do with it.

"So you prefer to fuck straight away?" Once the onions and meat were sufficiently browned, he poured in enough water to cover everything. "Figures. You're always rushing to get to "the point". You should try enjoying the journey sometimes."

You said that you don't want anything to do with sex.

"Whatever you say, beautiful." He laughed.

You sighed and slumped back onto the sofa. Your ears picked up on the sounds of the soup bubbling.

You decided to ask more about him. Might as well gain knowledge that you could use against Cyprus later. You asked about his family.

"Why? Do you want to meet them? I didn't know we were at that stage already. But I'm not complaining." He used a teasing tone when speaking to you.

You stayed silent, wishing that it was easier to talk to him.

He took a deep breath and exhaled, the smile dropped and was replaced with a neutral look. "I have an older sister. Raised by a single mom."

You asked where his father is. He stopped his cooking to look you incredulously in the eyes.

"Really? Not even an "I'm sorry" before asking that straight up? God, you're..." His shoulders sagged in defeat upon seeing your clueless face. "...really something else."

You waited for him to continue. But he simply frowned, almost scowled at your lack of social elegance. Looks like he isn't comfortable telling you about his father.

You asked more about his childhood.

"It was fine." He took out another pot, poured in some raw rice, and washed it under the tap.

You asked about his relationship with his mother.

"She worked three jobs to feed the two of us. Never really saw her around."

What about his sister?

"She raised me. Taught me how to fight, taught me how to cook, built me a backbone, and..." He paused momentarily. "Well. You wouldn't expect a nine-year-old kid to be the best mother in the world. Especially when she never asked for a brother that acts like her son."

He subconsciously brought his hand up to the back of his shoulder.

You asked about the relationship between him and his family now.

"We're doing fine." He placed the lid on the pot of rice and turned the heat up. "My sister lives a couple hours away from me. My mom..."

Now invested in his life story, you stared at him.

"She lives down the street." He placed another lid on the pot containing the soup. Cyprus then walked to the sofa, plopping down next to you.

"She's retired. Good for her, though. She deserves to rest."

You asked if he talks to her. To which, he nods.

"She would sometimes bring some food over. It's weird, I never knew what my own mom's cooking tasted like until I was 19. I only knew my sister's and my own."

You asked if he talks to his sister.

"Nope. Can't say I blame her, though. I was a piece of shit to raise." He brought his hands behind his head and leaned backward.

"What about you?" He asked, his grey eyes piercing into yours.

You gave him a summary of your life since birth and your current status with your family and other relatives, most of them are back in your hometown and home country.

He hummed in acknowledgment. Cyprus went on to check your temperature again, this time by touching the back of your neck.

There was silence between the both of you, accompanied by the sounds of dinner cooking away on the stovetops.

"You look like you have something on your mind. Spit it out." He broke the quietness by gently nudging your leg with his feet.

You blurted out if he chose you because you reminded him of a maternal figure he wanted.

His jaw went slack as he stared at you in disbelief. "What the fuck are you talking about, doll?"

You said that you couldn't give him what he wanted. You suggested going to therapy to work his "mommy issues" out before dating, so he wouldn't get hurt when his girlfriends couldn't fulfill that requirement of his. You do not have a single motherly bone in you, apologizing if you have accidentally come off as that way at first. You can't take care of him like how a proper mothering girlfriend would.

"Obviously! You can't even take care of yourself! What the fuck are you even on about? I'm not looking for another mom. I'm looking for a girlfriend! You-" He took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. He groaned in frustration and in extreme bafflement.

"Christ, what is with your thoughts? If I was looking for a woman to baby me, you don't even come close. Look at yourself! You barely feed yourself, you either sleep too little or too much, you can't even tell that you've had a fever, You didn't even know when to take your meds, you can't get off that damn phone and you let everyone walk all over you at work. If anything, it's the opposite, I'm looking to baby someone!"

You sat still and listened to his exasperated rant. You cringed internally; yes, you were definitely reaching, desperately trying to get him to let you go by reasoning. You were so sure that this argument would work, because you held this bias where men that have rocky relationships with their maternal figures would want a partner who is motherly. Thanks to your excessive internet usage and limited interaction with the real world.

He tiredly rubbed his face. "You have got to go out more, doll. That... fucking website is rotting you from the inside out."

You looked away in embarrassment.

"You were spewing the exact same bullshit I see online. I can't believe you're--" He heaved a sigh.

"It's fine. Our brains do not work the same during an active addiction." He stood back up and headed to the stove.

You told him you're not addicted to your phone.

"Yeah. And I'm totally not addicted to smoking." He took out a stack of paper bowls from a cabinet. He pulled out a couple of disposable wooden spoons and forks from his drawers.

"Come on, dinner's ready."

[scary-lasagna]

Hello, I hope you’re doing well! I was wondering if it was okay if to request LJ, Bloody Painter, and Hoodie (separately) with a siren reader? Reader, in her human form, is slightly stronger, durable, and faster. However, in their siren form (which happens when they get submerged underwater) they have the typical powers of a siren, but they also have limit consciousness. What I mean by that is that they are a lot more feral in this form, and doesn’t really recognize anyone in that form, but like, around their partners, they’d sort of feel familiar to them, so reader in their siren form won’t attack them or anything. Hope this makes sense!

In my AU sirens can also transform into bird-like creatures! They have power over the sea and the air :] I decided to implement that as well.

Laughing Jack

Jack, as you know, runs an old, worn-down circus.

There are no more acts of beasts, or rare animals from the human realm, but more so of a retirement place for the creatures.

He basically bought you off of the black market, watching the algae float around the the cramped tank they kept you in.

There was no way he'd be able to sleep at night, knowing he could prevent another lonely night for you.

You got a lovely spot next to Snowflake, his prized albino Tiger, which Jack thought was so funny, because of the cat and fish dynamic.

But after research and asking around after taking care of you for a month, he concluded to take you out of the water.

He enjoyed that month of bonding and feeding you, and even reading you stories whenever you seemed bored with any enrichment toys and food he gave you. He wondered if you would even remember him.

But you did, and you thanked him profusely for rescuing you, even if he had no idea how much it cost or energy it took to rehabilitate a siren-like yourself.

And Jack was always willing to learn whatever you told him, even bringing up stories from your culture about how the sea will reach toward the moon in an attempt to reach its lover that flew too high.

And it took am embarrassingly long amount of time to realize that Jack's feathers were fake, simply a silly decoration he enjoyed.

But over time, you two grew close, and now you have a rather large tank full of a small reef and a complete array of fish to keep you happy whenever you decide to dip your toes.

Helen

Oh, Helen is just head over heels for you.

He thinks you're the most beautiful muse he's ever come across, and every time you step foot in the water you two fall in love all over again.

You actually almost killed him the first time you met. Both of you thought you were alone, and quickly realized the presence of the other.

He managed to squeeze you into his painting of the sunset, but before leaving, he gathered seashells into the tide.

You almost bit his arm off, and ended up getting a face full of oil paint. It tasted lovely, as you can imagine, (it tasted like you gulped down an oil spill).

As while busy gagging and attempting to wash your mouth out, and drink the sea water, which would make even the best of sirens sea-sick, Helen took charge and dragged you out of the water to help you.

And you hit it off since, and many of his paints of you have gained quite the popularity.

Brian

Not gonna lie, he thinks you are pretty terrifying.

The first time you went to the beach, Brian expected something like Ariel, or even the mermaids from Pirates of the Caribbean.

He was not expecting your true form in the slightest.

Your jaw unhinged and ripped your cheeks clean in half to reveal not one, but multiple rows of sharp teeth.

And he's seen many things and creatures in his career as a proxy, but a siren had not been one of them. Slender had mentioned staying away from them, especially as humans, you can be lured whenever they decide to be bored of you, and then drag you to the sea floor.

Or maybe they'll grab you up in their talons leading to sculpted human legs and drop you in a vat of bubbling acid.

Whatever the case was, it seemed as if it went into one ear and out with other with Brian, because he fell in love.

But damn, in the water you were hella creepy. And of course, you thought it was a game to scare this familiar stranger shitless since he seemed so keen on staying around you.

He managed to lure you out from the water with a little jar of "siren-bait" from one of the seaside shops. It didn't work as expected, but you really just wanted to see if it contained any edible food.

But he liked pruning your wings and picking off the casing of new feathers whenever they came in, and if he wasn't feeling too tired, he would give you a small massage to your shoulders after holding up your wings for so long.

[ghostfanwriter]

💖🧰 Dirty Hands 🧰💖

Part two

🧰 Pairing: Joel Miller x Afab!Reader

💖 Synopsis: Your dads, Bill and Frank, are the only people you've ever met. When Joel Miller comes to visit, you learn about new and exciting feelings.

🧰 Features: 🔞, soft!Joel, kissing, very secluded and kinda oblivious reader. Honestly there's not much, this is mostly just the setting of the story.

💖 Word count: A bit over 5k.

🧰 About this: Timeline's a bit different from the show. Basically their ages are the same from the show, Bill and Frank are older than Joel. But here, they all meet in 2023, after the raiders already shot Bill. The main difference from the show is that here Bill and Frank are not as old in 2023 as they are on the show, I picture then as old as they are when they meet Joel and Tess on the show.

💖 Author's note: She's finally here! I loved writing Bill and Frank ✋🏻🤧 literally my favorite. Writing their dynamics with reader was a joy, loved it.

Good reading 🧰💖

💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰

💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰

You've lived in Lincoln your whole life, but the majority of it was inside the town your dad built for himself right after the outbreak.

He was the only person you knew — or remembered, at least — until Frank arrived.

You were six or seven when your dad told you to lock yourself inside your bedroom and gave you a gun, which he had already taught you how to use. "You only open this door for daddy or to kill whoever is inside that trap, alright, cupcake?" You obeyed, looking out the window and watching him talk and then walk the man past his gates.

You only opened your door when he called you, a couple minutes later, a plate of food in his hands. "This is for you, baby. I'm gonna feed him and he'll go away. He can't see or hear you, so you stay here real quiet. I'll tell you when you can leave."

And you did, but instead of calling you, he came back later, tucked you in and told you not to leave your room for the rest of the night. You had a bathroom and he brought you more food and told you not to worry, so you didn't mind.

Next morning he introduced you to Frank, saying he'd stay around for a while.

A while became forever, and before you knew it, you had two dads. Two very different men who did their best to look after you.

But nothing they did could prepare you for today.

Nothing could prepare you for the man you'd see today.

🧰💖≈

Your dads were having people over for the first time in literally forever. But you wouldn't be a part of it.

"Bill, for God's sake, she would have so much fun! She needs to see people." You heard Frank almost yell from the kitchen.

"I'm not letting them see her! I don't know what got over me to let you give them our fucking location! I won't let them know we have a daughter!" Bill sounded angry and upset, he was afraid everything he worked so hard on building could be destroyed by Frank's "friends".

So the first woman — if you don't consider the one in your faded memories — you've ever seen, and the very first man who wasn't one of your dads, had to be seen from your bedroom window.

When you saw her you smiled, thinking about all the things you two could talk about. Did her hair annoy her as much as yours did sometimes? Did she feel the same things that you did? What would her voice sound like?

Your wandering was cut by the next new person you saw.

Tall, broad shoulders, short and greying hair and beard and a sculpted face. An imposing figure that took over your senses, setting itself instantly as your new favorite sight. He made your stomach feel like it was loose, floating around your belly, but you couldn't bring yourself to look anywhere else.

You watched from your window as they sat down and ate. Your dads clearly having two very different experiences, Frank was laid back and having fun, while Bill sat stiff and you constantly saw his hand reach for his gun.

Your attention was focused on the man, though. The way he sat, how his jaw moved when he chewed on your dad's food, how his eyes were hooded and serious, most of the time holding your dad's gaze.

His eyes were so pretty, from a distance they seemed dark and mysterious, and you stared into them, your brows furrowing with the intensity of his look. You were so lost in them that it took you — way over — a second to realize he was looking right at you. And you only noticed because your dad yelled.

"Frank, not inside!"

You hid behind your curtains. Your chest moving so fast it hurts, and you can feel every contraction of your heart.

Your dad will fucking kill you. They shouldn't have seen you, but now the man has.

"Aren't you going to introduce us to her?" He had barely spoken yet, and his voice sent chills down your spine, pooling in your panties.

"Who?" Bill asked, his hand reaching for his gun. He was ready to kill both of them at any wrong move.

"Oh, shit." Frank sighed under his breath. "Bill, it's okay." He said, resting his hand on Bill's shoulder.

"There's a girl?" The woman asked excited, looking around to see if she could find you.

"Fucking — stay here." Bill told the man and the woman.

Him and Frank walked inside, and you, still hidden behind the curtains, kept looking at the man. Your heart felt like it didn't fit inside your chest anymore.

You stepped away when they walked inside your bedroom.

"Honey, I told you to be careful. Goddammit." Bill said, opening his arms as you run towards him, tugging yourself under his embrace.

"Sorry, daddy. I wanted to see them." Frank invited himself into the hug. "It's okay, darling. We'll take you to meet them, if you want to. They seem like good people, even your dad has to admit." But Bill's face didn't look like he agreed with it.

"Can I?" You looked into Bill's eyes and he looked at Frank, shaking his head no, but looking back at you and sighing.

"Okay. You can come down. But!" He said when you started giggling into his chest, hugging him tighter. "But they think we have others come over, so keep that in mind. And, listen to me. You're gonna stay with us, alright? I want to keep my eyes on you the whole damn time." You nod enthusiastically, hugging Frank.

"Oh, you'll love Tess!" He said and you made a little happy sound.

"I know! I have so much I want to talk to her about!" You say excited. Bill sighing behind you, scratching the back of his neck and shaking his head, a soft smile breaking through his face.

You three reach the front door. Your arm is tangled with Bill's, your eyes wandering around as you walk outside.

"Look, there is a girl. She's our daughter. She's... We wanted to know you first, before you could meet her." Frank said, walking outside first, you and Bill following right after.

You were wearing a yellow summer dress, and you could see the man gulping when he saw you. You were a vision he thought this world would never provide him again.

Feminine and pretty. Colorful amongst all the muted colors everyone was wearing.

Your dress perfectly outlining your curves, your hair looking like silk, falling carefully over your shoulders, your eyes wide; attentive but curious at the same time.

"Oh, look at you! You're so pretty!" The woman said, and you couldn't hold your smile back anymore. "I'm Tess, what's your name?" You looked up, at Bill, who caught your gaze and nodded for you to respond.

You told her your name, and you could see the man's brows furrow behind her when you said it.

"Well, it's really nice to meet you. This is Joel, we're..." She looked back at him, then at your dads, and she seemed uncomfortable for a second. "We're friends. And we're really glad to be here, to meet this place. To meet you!" She finished with a warm smile.

You loved her.

You shook her hand and the man approached you, shaking your hand as well, his eyes sweet but intense, and a soft smile on his lips. You couldn't help the girly smile that stamped your own lips while greeting him.

His hand was big, rough, textured, but also soft and warm, his fingers double the size of yours, distracting you. It made your breath get stuck on your throat, and your mind wonder what it would feel like if he held you the way your dads held one another. If he touched your face or your sides. If he ran his hands up your legs, like you do sometimes at night.

If his rough fingers would hurt you if they touched you on other places, how much further than yours his fingers could go, how much more you'd have to open yourself to him.

You loved him.

You all sat back down at the table, Bill insisting you'd sit between him and Frank. You talked a lot to Tess, about things you had tried to talk about with your dads, but they never seemed to fully understand.

After your dad lowered his guard a little, he let you, Frank and Tess walk around, show her some things and talk. You felt comfortable around her, like she was someone you had always known.

Whenever you looked at the man, though, you felt the same things from when you were watching him through your window. Your stomach felt funny, and your palms dry and sweaty at the same time. The fact that he kept looking at your direction didn't help you, either.

Everytime you were not around him you felt in your guts that you were wasting your time, that you should come back and try to get close to him.

It was like there was a magnetic field between you two. You couldn't stop looking for him, and he seemed to not find interest in anything else after seeing you.

Every fucking time you looked at him you found his eyes already on you. Analyzing you, studying you, as if he wanted to engrave you on his mind.

You were everything he thought didn't exist anymore. You were feminine, your hair was pretty, your skin was soft and you smelled good. Frank had made you a perfume with a few flowers and fruits, and you wore it everyday.

It smelled fresh and delicate, and the smell got stuck on Joel's wrist, coating his mind with a soft but persistent layer of you.

Even more than the smell, the hair or the soft skin, it was you that drove him crazy. The silly smile you had stamped on your face the whole goddamn time, the way you talked to Tess like you could never run out of things to talk about, how delicate you looked.

But also how your dads told the story of the day raiders tried to invade Lincoln, how you and Bill shot them, how you killed the one who shot Bill. Most of all how you told the whole thing with a smile on your face. How not fragile you were, despite your girly figure.

How intriguing you were.

And Joel couldn't keep his mind and his eyes off you.

He knew he wouldn't find someone like you ever again, so he wanted to make sure he had your frame right on his brain.

Having his attention made you feel good, in a different, new way. In a way you've never felt before. But it also made your stomach feel funny, like you were sick.

You went for Bill, who was sitting on a porch chair next to the man, taking to him. "Daddy, is it okay if I go to bed? Not feeling great." You asked your dad, the man shifting by his side.

"Yes, darling, sure. Do you need anything?" He asked, his voice coated with concern.

"No, I'm fine. Think it's just been a lot for one day. Just wanna lay down for a bit." You bend down to kiss his cheek, and he kisses you too, the man's eyes glued to your body the whole time.

"See you, Joel. Nice to meet you." You say to the man, who nods and smiles at you, offering you his hand again, making your cheeks burn at the feeling of them.

💖🧰≈

You wake up with a soft knock on your bedroom door.

You open your eyes to find Frank, who invites himself in, sitting on your bed.

"Hi, darling. How are you? Tired already?" He mentions for you to sit next to him, which you do, snuggling next to him, hugging his side.

"Doing fine. Better anyway." He looks down at you, worried. "Oh, what was wrong? You didn't say anything."

You don't know how to explain, but you try anyway.

"I don't know, I felt weird since they arrived. Felt this thing on my stomach, like I would throw up. But now I think it's gone."

"Oh, sweetheart-" your dad starts, but he stops when Bill and the man stand on your doorframe. The man looks at you from behind your dad, up and down, smiling softly at your sleepy face and hair. "Frank, cover her up, please."

He does it, covering your body — previously covered only by a tight tank top and an underwear — with your blanket. "I'm showing Joel his room. Baby, are you feeling better?"

You nod and smile. "Good, was worried about you. Now, keep your door closed. Locked, please." Bill says as he closes your door and leaves with the man.

You grunt, feeling the same thing again. "Ugh, here it is. Not gone yet. Dad's food never made me feel like this before." You snuggle closer to Frank, who sighs and hugs you tighter.

"Oh, honey pie, you're not sick. It wasn't dad's food." You look at him.

What could it be, then?

"But don't worry, Tess already left and Joel is just hanging over for a while to help me and dad around with some fixings."

You grunt, feeling funny again. Thinking about Joel leaving and never seeing him again makes your heart sink down on your chest.

💖🧰≈

You spend the next day inside your bedroom, watching the man work with your dads, fixing some things on the exterior of your house and helping them with things they can't do by themselves anymore.

Watching him carry heavy things around and laughing with your dads made you uncomfortable. Your body begging you for some relief.

So you give it some. You lift your skirt and touch yourself over your panties. Steady and fast circles around your clit until you cum, the man being the only thing in your mind.

You imagined what it would feel like to have him hold you, his skin touching yours, what kissing would feel like. How he'd hold you on his strong arms, how he'd move you around.

You wondered if he looked like the men from the magazines you found on your dad's car, and what he would to with it, what it would be like, what it would feel like.

As soon as your high was over you heard your name being yelled from outside. It was already dark, but you were close to the window and got worried they may have seen you.

You'd be fucked if they did.

You looked down and found all three of them looking at you. Bill was the one to speak.

"Baby, can you cook us something for dinner, please? We're gonna be here for a while still." You hoped your voice would come out okay.

"Sure daddy, be right down." You answered, Joel's gaze weakening for a split.

"Thanks, love." Frank said and they went back to work.

💖🧰≈

You felt funny while you cooked dinner. Specially since you knew Joel was gonna eat. You couldn't pull yourself out of him while you cooked, thinking about how tired and hungry he must be, and how you'd be the one providing food for him. How you'd be making him feel good after working all day.

It makes you want to do it more, to do things for him, help him feel better after a tiring day.

You're so lost on him you don't notice when he walks in the kitchen, watching you for a while in silence. You drop a wooden spoon on the floor and bend over to grab it, your skirt fully lifting and leaving your whole ass on display.

He chokes on his saliva, startling you, and you get up, looking at him. "You always wear that around the house?" He asks, talking directly to you for the first time since you introduced yourself the day before, his voice a little broken.

"Yes, she does. Because she's our daughter and it's usually only us around here." Frank says out of nowhere. "But I told her she should wear more appropriate things while Joel's around, didn't I, love?" You blush.

He did, but this was literally the first time you had someone over, so you forgot. And honestly "appropriate" isn't exactly clear. You weren't naked, and your clothes were never questioned before.

"Sorry, dad, I'll go change. Can you watch the pans for me, please? Thanks." You say rushing out of the kitchen, avoiding Joel's gaze.

"You back the fuck off, alright? Bill will fucking murder you if he sees you watching her like that." Frank says after a bit, while Joel grabs a cup of water.

"I wasn't watching her, I'm sorry. Just stopped and she dropped it. I just wanted some water. Besides, there's Tess—" Frank looked at him from over his shoulders while he stirred a pan with pasta. "Don't shit me, Joel. Tess told me about you two. I know you're not a couple anymore." Joel shifts on his feet. Tess shouldn't have said anything.

"But she's young, and she's used to only have us around the house. She got overwhelmed by you, and I believe you may be a good man, but not for my daughter." Joel's heart aches a bit. He thinks of Sarah, how livid he'd be if a man ever looked at her the way he found himself looking at you.

"And again, be thankful I was the one to walk in and not Bill. You'd be buried outside by now. If he left anything to be buried, that is."

You walk back in, in a sweater and pants. Bill walks in at the same time, drenched in sweat, panting quietly.

"You're sick, honey? Why are you wearing this?" You look over at Frank, who rolls his eyes. "She just wanted something more cozy, Bill. She's alright." He looked at the three of you, his gaze softening at you. "Okay then, I like that you're fully covered." He says, eyeing Joel for a second before looking at you again.

"I'm gonna shower and then we can eat. Thank you, darling. It smells amazing." He kissed your cheek and went to his bedroom.

"Love the outfit, sweetheart. Don't listen to your dad, this is perfect. Joel, why don't you go take a shower too so we can all eat together?" Frank says.

Joel looks at you, then at Frank, then grunts in agreement and goes upstairs.

"Dad, is it bad that I... Think about him?" You ask, genuinely concerned. Frank turns the stove off and looks at you. "What do you think about him, love?"

You feel your cheeks on fire.

"I don't know." You respond, not wanting to welcome your dad on your daydreams. He comes towards you, cupping your cheeks loosely.

"My love, do you think about him like dad and I? You you think of doing to him what you see us do? Kissing, hugging?" He asks low, afraid somehow Bill could hear them.

"I do." You whisper, pushing yourself into his embrace, hugging him tight and snuggling your face on his chest. "I think about what kissing him would be like. What having his hands on me would feel like. What hugging him would feel like." You say, knowing well that you can't lie to your dad.

"Darling that's perfectly normal. Joel is a beautiful man, the only man you've seen besides me and dad." He waits for a response, but you have nothing to say.

"Just... There's a lot you don't know, okay? A lot we didn't think we had to tell you about. And your dad and I are just afraid someone might take advantage of that." He hugs you tighter, hoping Joel wouldn't be that someone.

🧰💖≈

After dinner, you help Bill with the dishes while he chats with Frank and Joel, who are still at the table. They're talking about construction, cars and resources, and you're just listening to them.

Then you all go to bed and you lock your door, just like your dad asked you to.

Before you could sleep, though, you let the man take over you again.

You insert two fingers inside you and circle your clit desperately, trying to just get some relief so you could go to sleep. Softly, you moan the man's name when you cum, and pray he couldn't listen to you.

Your water bottle was empty, and you had to go downstairs to refill it. "Fuck!" You said, if one of your dads saw you outside your bedroom, they would kill you.

But your throat was dry and you didn't want to grab water from your bathroom. So you had no choice.

You almost fell on top of Joel when you opened your door and found him standing right in front of you.

"What are you doing here?" Your voice high and scared.

"Thought I heard you call me, came to see if you needed my help for something." His voice low and heavy, like his words were thick and hard to let out.

"I wasn't calling you. I don't need help, I was just going to grab some water." You respond way too fast, barely taking breaks between your words.

"Hum, I could swear I heard your pretty voice call my name just a minute ago. Joel, Joel, Joel. Multiple times. Didn't know you did those things, baby." His expression is serious and dark, looking down as he towers over you.

He wasn't going to try anything. But since you were calling him...

Fuck.

"I... I wasn't calling you. I'm sorry, I have to get back to bed." You try to close the door, but he doesn't let you, easily keeping it open with his forearm.

"But you weren't sleeping, were you, baby?" He steps in, forcing you to walk back inside. "I'm sorry. I just... I… I saw you and you were looking at me and I… I shouldn't, you barely even spoke to me, I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

He closes the door behind him.

"Oh, I don't mind angel, I'm not mad at you. My name never sounded sweeter. But I can't sleep now. Not now that I've heard it." His arm snakes around your waist, and he pushes you close.

He connects his mouth to yours, and you finally learn what a kiss feels like. His beard makes you flinch at first, scratching and almost hurting the sensitive skin of your face.

You're used to your dads' beards when you kiss their cheeks, but Joel's feels different, it hurts in a way that makes you want to feel it even more.

You moan into it and your body softens under his embrace, your legs give in and you're only standing because he's holding you. Your hands grab his back and his hair, and you moan into his mouth when his tongue opens it's way into yours.

His arms hold you tight and squeeze you, his large hands hold you you firmly, and you feel like that's what was missing for you all along. To be in Joel Miller's arms.

He is intoxicating.

His perfume, woody and different from the ones your dads have, mixed with his natural essence make you dizzy. His strong arms hold you in a way you didn't know you needed to be held. His mouth explores you with such hunger, such passion, and you've only just met.

It makes you wonder what it would be like if he loved you, if he cared for you. How much more of this intensity you'd feel from him.

You deepen the kiss, exploring his mouth with hunger and curiosity, all while doing your best not to drown in saliva.

He breaks the kiss and goes to your jawline and neck, smelling, kissing and biting you, his beard scratching you deliciously, making you moan.

"You smell so good, baby, you're so soft. Been a long time since I saw a girl like you. All pretty and sweet for me like this." He says as he runs his hand through your hair, his rough fingers caressing your scalp, pulling your head back to make more room for his lips.

You feel something hard pressing on your lower belly and you pull away. "Wait, Joel. I think there's something in your pocket." He looks down and laughs, grinding himself on you.

"This, baby?" His voice low and breathy. You nod and he looks at you, his breath heavy, his brows furrowed, now showing more confusion than arousal.

He lets you go abruptly, looking puzzled at you, analyzing you. "How old are you?"

You frown.

"I don't know, actually." You respond.

"What? How… how do you not know?" He turns his head, even more confused.

It was confusing, you'll give him that.

"Well, my dad, Bill, found me on a road a few days after the outbreak. After FEDRA evacuated the town. He said I could walk and speak, but was still really small. So he thinks I was around 2 or 3." He looked at the roof and then at you, doing the math in his head. "So you're 23?"

You nod. "Yeah, probably."

He puts his hands on his hips, looking at you and at the door.

"And... How do you not know what this is?" He asks mentioning the tent on his pants.

Oh... Maybe because you've never seen a man other than your dads, and you've never fucked any of them. Maybe that's why?

"Well, you and Tess are really the first people I see that are not my dads, and, well, the people I knew before them. Y'know, not a lot of friends to have around here." You say moving your arms around, mentioning the empty town and all the emptiness surrounding it.

You get close to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and talking close to his ear, your hands roaming all over his back and hair.

"But I know somethings. Things I listened in songs, read in books. Things I want you to teach me." You say, touching his crotch, his cock throbbing inside his jeans.

But he thinks about your dads again, about you, and how he'd kill the man who tried anything similar with his own daughter.

"Sorry, baby. I can't. Your dads didn't tell me this. They said they had people come over before, just never stay. I thought you maybe got with one or some of them."

"You're the first." You say, not fully aware of all the weight the sentence has.

"I can't be your first one." He says, making you furrow your brows.

He pushes you away, walking towards the door.

"Why not?" you ask.

"Because you don't know me, baby. You're young and you need someone who knows you, and who you know. Someone who'll take care of you like you need." He sounded serious and decided. His voice deep and just slightly above a whisper.

He was kinda into the idea of you being innocent and naive. But when you're this untouched, it feels too much for him.

"But I want you." You say, returning his whisper. "I've been thinking about you ever since you showed up. Sometimes I feel this burn, this ache between my legs, and I used to fix it by just touching it. But today when I did it, my mind kept going back to you." You confess, and he swallows hard, his Adam's apple moving slowly as he did.

You see his eyes wander back around your body, and his gaze get darker again. But as soon as it darkens, he sees your face and it softens.

He turns towards the door, walking towards it.

Noticing how your words affected him, you keep going.

"I was calling you, Joel. I was doing it because of you." His body stiffens and he stops, his hand on the door handle. He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder.

"Please." You say, your voice sincere and sweet.

He turns back around, looking at you like you were tearing him apart. "I'm sorry. Can't do this to you. I don't know if I know how to be gentle anymore, I don't want to hurt you."

"If it's not you then who is it gonna be? My dads trusted you enough to let you inside our house, to let you sleep here with us. That has to mean something." You say, and he moves his jaw from side to side.

He knows he can't, but you're right. Someone could do worse than him trying his best to be gentle.

"Baby, if I have you, I won't want anyone else to have you after. If I'm your first one, I'll be your only one." He said, getting close to you.

"I don't know if I'll want anyone else after you." You respond, walking close to him and caressing his hair with your fingers. "I know I don't regret my first kiss." You whisper, your face close to his, and his eyes go darker, staring into yours.

He was your first kiss too.

"Could've been more gentle?" He asks with an embarrassed smile.

"It was perfect." You respond with a smile.

He looked at your lips, his hand coming to cup your cheek. You snuggle your face onto his hand, enjoying the texture and warmth of it.

"But I mean it. I can't do it. Not right now." You whimper, and he gives you a faintly stern look, his fingers pulling your hair behind your ear.

"Told you. You don't know me. I'll be around for a few more days. We'll be patient and see how this goes." Your face must be the one of a lost puppy by the way he's looking at you.

"Just don't want you to regret it. Can't just sleep with the first man you ever see, princess." He says with s laugh. The nickname makes your knees weak.

He kisses your cheeks, both of them, and let's go of you, grabbing your water bottle. "I'll fill it for you. Don't want your dads seeing you downstairs."

After a few minutes he comes back, finding you sitting on your bed. He places the bottle on your nightstand.

"Sleep tight." He wishes, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" You ask, feeling vulnerable already being so clingy to the man.

He holds your chin, caressing your jaw.

"I'll be here for a whole while, angel. Promise I won't go anywhere before we talk about this, okay?" You nod, getting up to lock the door after him.

He gives you a little kiss on the cheek and leaves, and you go back to bed, letting anticipation bloom on you, feeling like you're gonna melt.

To think that he was indeed also thinking about you, that he wanted you the same way you wanted him, made you feel funny, like you're gonna scream.

It made you revisit all the times you caught his gaze, everytime you saw his eyes go from your body to your eyes when you looked at him.

How maybe he did the same in his bedroom, thinking about you the same way you thought about him.

Just picturing that makes you feel funny, and you smile to yourself. Feeling all special to be noticed by a man like him: strong and resourceful, the things your dads taught to be — and to look for.

Your dads were worried he would take advantage of you. But on his grand opportunity to do so, he said no and told you to go back to sleep.

And that just made you want him more.

🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖

Coming up: You convince Joel he's the right one to be your first, but how hard will it be?

🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖

Did you like it? Hopefully yes, I loved writing this so much it hurts that it's finally out. I'm currently working on the part two 💖

More from me 💖

As always, feedback, comments, asks, requests, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated. I love reading your thoughts on my work 🫶🏻

Part two

[cripplepunkbarbarian]

The Bad Kids as lyrics from Apple by CharliXCX. Btw. If you even care…

(explanations for choices beneath the read more)

Riz: Was originally torn between swapping his and Gorgugs. Decided this was more appropriate. Specifically referencing the fact that he’s been stated to be a practically perfect combination of both his parents features as well as the fact that he’s maintained an incredibly close bond with and idolization of both his parents since he was young. “I split the apple down symmetrical lines” also fits for that but since Riz is quite proud of becoming like his parents (whereas his parents are the ones who fear him becoming like them), I decided this set of lyrics fit better.

Fabian: In my mind, the most notable aspect of Fabian’s dynamic with his parents has been his attempts to appeal to them by sculpting his identity to match what he thinks they, especially Bill, want him to be and grappling with his true personality and desires not being what they would be “the most proud of”. Then despite Bills acceptance he is still absent and despite Hallariel’s attempts to be more present she still insists on him being more like Bill. So ultimately he struggles to feel understood by them.

Fig: This specific set of lyrics matching Fig is what prompted me to assign lyrics to the rest of TBK because of how well it fits. “I guess the apple could turn yellow or green” made me think of how different her relationships to her parents could have turned out to be if the infernal side of her hadn’t presented in the way it did, if she had continued living as an elf. But ultimately things shook out the way they did and a lot of Figs dynamics with all 3 of her parents revolve around how complicated the reality of her birth and Sandra Lynn in general is.

Kristen: “I wanna grow the apple, keep all the seeds” applies to her struggle to stay involved in her little brothers lives despite her parents beliefs straining their relationships. To me. Also “But I can’t help but get so angry. You don’t listen, I leave to the airport” being her fall out with her parents in Freshman Year where she tried so desperately to get them to open up and see her side of things but everyone got so worked up/defensive that she was practically kicked out and stormed out.

Adaine: This one feels the most obvious. The Abernant parents were horrible, setting Aelwyn up to act horribly as well in an attempt to appease them, and while we don’t know the rest of their family tree I struggle to see much healthy potential. Adaine and Aelwyn both luckily have loving adults and friends in their lives now but both are still grappling with the effects of their upbringings. Generational trauma realness.

Gorgug: Like I mentioned in the Riz explanation, I almost had them swapped! But ultimately I decided for Gorgug that the lyrics fit better as an allusion to his adopted gnome-bio half orc “natural” barbarian-“learned” artificer identity struggle. While Riz is shown to be (comparatively) fairly comfortable and confident following in the footsteps of his parents, Gorgug really struggles to feel “at home” in either of his parents “legacies”. Being told by others that he’s not brutal enough to be a great barbarian but not smart enough to be a great artificer. Not physically small enough to fit in with his adopted family but not big enough personality wise to fit in with his bio family.

[mbakuetshurisprincess]

A Betting Woman

AN: Hey y’all! So I’m trynna do some palate cleansers while I work on BTB3 cause lord is that one just emotionally taxing to create lol. 80% of this fic is just Riri and Shuri talking about you and how they view you so there's that. This was heavily inspired by the wonderful work of @generallysapphic who is thee supreme when it comes to Shuriri postings. There's someone else who wrote a Shuriri fic but I can’t find them anymore. Just some cute shit to post fr. Set on a timeline where you went with Shuri to defeat Namor but Riri is a super genius. 

Summary: Normally these types of moral dilemmas don’t bother Riri but after meeting your girlfriend, the queen of Wakanda. Riri decides to pay you a visit to end things. 

Pairing: Shuri x Fem!Reader, Riri x Fem!Reader and the beginnings of Shuri x Riri.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of D/S dynamic, kissing, i think thats it. 

Translation: Sthandwa - my love , Entle - Beautiful & Usana - baby. 

Word count: 2,864 

Suggested listening: WILSHIRE - Tyler, The Creator. 

“It's morals I really have, it's lines I could never cross But you got somethin' that make All them good intentions get lost I try to keep it together, never felt this way”

Riri knocked quickly on the door three times, rocking on her heels as she did it. 

“Busy right now!” Someone called from the other side of the door. The genius didn’t know if the voice was yours or not but she didn’t care.

‘Oh no, that bitch did not.’ Riri thought to herself. She brought her fist to the door and knocked harder this time. Everything was always on your schedule and Riri was going to be damned if her ending this fling was on your time too. She heard some rustling around and the bed creek before the door opened up enough to reveal a person on the other side. 

The person Riri was expecting to see behind your dorm door was you, it was your room after all. Instead, she was met by the exact person she was here to talk to you about, Shuri. The taller woman stood in your doorway leaning up against the post. She was wearing a black sports bra and a matching pair of black sweats with golden embroidery on the side. The sweatpants hung low on her waist and Riri could make out the band of Shuri’s boxers. ‘She’s a Calvin Klein girl huh,’ The thought came to the mechanic quicker than she could stop it and she mentally cursed herself for getting so off track. 

“Riri Williams, right?” Shuri tilted her head to the side, allowing the name to roll off her tongue. 

Riri’s eyes flashed over Shuri’s figure one more time before she finally pulled herself together. “Yeah that’s me,” She cleared her throat. “Is uh Y/N here?” Riri tried to look further into the room but Shuri blocked her movements with her body. 

This unintentionally gave the younger girl an opportunity to ogle at the Queen’s perfectly sculpted abs and steal a glance at her waistline again, so she wasn’t complaining. 

“No Y/N is busy right now, can it wait?” 

Snapping back into the conversation Riri finally got back to her original plan. “No it really can’t wait, I’ve been needed to talk to her about this.” 

Shuri pondered over Riri’s words for a few moments looking her up and down as she did. Riri wondered if she might melt under Shuri’s gaze. Something about the monarch was slowly starting to make her weak in the knees. She averted her eyes back down to the floor, once again sneaking glances at Shuri’s body as she did. 

“Well I’m sure whatever you wanted to tell her, you can tell me and I’ll relay the message,” Shuri suggested. She had noticed the way Riri was staring at her and decided to play into it. “Is it normal for American girls to make it this obvious when they’re checking someone out, or is it just you?”

Riri snapped her head back up to meet Shuri’s eyes, “What!? I wasn’t- Why would you say that? No, I wasn’t! '' Riri slowly started panicking.

Had she really been that blatant in her staring that the queen would notice? And this was totally not what she came here for or what she had rehearsed saying. 

Shuri relished seeing Riri’s cheeks flush with a dark red blush as she tried to regain herself. “Ah. No matter.” Shuri said with a smile. “What is it that you wanted to tell Y/N?” 

‘No fucking way.’ Riri thought to herself. ‘No fucking way did I just get bested at my own game! Bitch had me stuttering over MY words when I came here to end shit with HER girlfriend. I can’t go out like that.’ 

Riri opened her mouth to speak, after brainstorming something logical like ‘No I need to talk to her in person.’ or ‘I literally have her location and know she’s here right now. I need to speak with her.’ All of those would have been rational things to say but instead what came out of Riri’s mouth was fueled by nothing but good old-fashioned Chicago pride. 

“I’m fucking your girlfriend.” She blurted out.

Shuri tilted her head to the side and chuckled lightly before turning around and closing the door behind her. Riri was left standing in the dormitory hallway staring at the now-closed door. What the fuck was she thinking?? Telling the Queen of arguably the most powerful nation in the world that you were not just seeing her girlfriend, but FUCKING her? Surely that was enough to get her killed and probably in a way no one would know. She would just slowly fade out of the popular consciousness until no one remembered her name; all over some pussy. Great pussy at that, but still. She was roused from her thoughts by the door opening and Shuri standing on the other side once again. 

“I know you’re ‘fucking my girlfriend.’” She said the last part in air quotations with a chuckle. “Are you going to come in so we can finally discuss this or just stand outside confused?” 

The question caught Riri off guard and she stood there staring at Shuri, unsure of what her next move should be. She hadn’t planned for this at all. She had expected to come to your dorm room today and completely end things with you. Normally she didn’t have an issue with sleeping with people who were cheating on their partners. That was someone else’s moral dilemma not hers. But after interacting with Shuri today while she was a guest speaker at a lab on campus, the guilt started eating her alive. 

Eventually, Shuri got bored of waiting and grabbed Riri’s shoulder pulling the small girl into the dorm room and shutting the door behind her. 

“Come in and sit down.” Shuri walked back over to the bed and hopped onto it. When Riri didn’t move it prompted Shuri to speak again. “Do not act like you do not know her room entle, make yourself at home.” 

Riri wanted to ask what entle meant but decided that was the least of her problems right now. She made her way over to the bean bag in the opposite corner of the room and sunk down into it. She could hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom connected to your dorm and assumed that's where you were since your location had pinged as here, yet you weren't in the room currently. 

“She shouldn’t take too long,” Shuri said noticing where Riri’s line of sight was going. “We can wait till she gets here or you can ask whatever you’d like to ask now.” 

The younger girl shifted in her seat and contemplated what Shuri had proposed. “I’ll wait for Y/N to get out of the shower.” 

Shuri nodded and picked back up the book that was lying on the bed. Riri watched Shuri intently as she read. How was she being so cool right now? Sitting in the same room as your girlfriend's lover would typically draw a stronger reaction out of the average person but the royal seemed to be in a very relaxed state. 

‘Duh’ Riri thought to herself, it’s because Shuri already knew. She had told Riri already so her presence couldn't have been that much of a surprise to her. This thought in turn only raised more questions for Riri. 

‘How long had she known?’

‘Was she upset with Y/N?’ 

And most importantly,

‘How much did she really know?’ 

Shuri looked up from her book and caught Riri staring at her once again, which must be a theme for the night. Riri cleared her throat and spoke. “I change my mind, I’d like to ask my questions and you answer them.” She paused, “Right now.” 

Shuri chuckled at the girl's forwardness. “Y/N did say you didn’t have much patience, I see she wasn’t lying about that… Among other things,” 

Riri swore when Shuri said it she caught Shuri looking her up and down. Shuri didn’t even give her enough time to react before continuing. “But go ahead, I’ll do my best to answer them.” 

“How long have you known about us?” 

“Since the beginning,” Shuri replied simply. 

“And you’re not mad?” Riri questioned, sitting up in the bean bag chair.

“Why would I be?” Shuri questioned back with a genuine look of confusion on her face. 

Shuri’s look of confusion was replicated on Riri after hearing her answer and seeing the woman's face. “Uhh, because while you’re in Wakanda saving the world and shit, I’m here with two fingers buried deep in your girl!” 

“Just two? Normally she likes three but whatever works for you guys really.” Shuri’s sarcasm left Riri’s mouth agape and which only fueled Shuri’s laughter. Once she had pulled herself together Shuri apologized and said she would actually answer Riri’s question, earning a huff of agitation from her. 

“You already answered your question in your question, entle.” Once again Shuri spoke coolly and used that entle word that Riri couldn’t understand. 

“What the hell does that even mean!” Riri sucked her teeth as she spoke. “No more weird shit, no more nicknames in other languages, just explain this shit to me 'cause it’s not making any sense.” 

Shuri nodded, understanding that Riri did deserve the full story. She wanted to wait for you to come out of the shower but the combination of not knowing exactly how much longer you were going to take and her sensing Riri’s agitation; she was compelled to speak. 

“What I mean by that is you gave yourself the answer already. Y/N is here for school for most of the year and I’m kept busy looking after Wakanda. My love has needs that unfortunately due to the distance most of the time I cannot fill. She’s permitted to fulfill these needs in any way she chooses, as am I.”

Riri looked dumbfounded once again as she digested Shuri’s words. “So you’ve known this whole time?” 

“Mhm.”

“About everything?” 

“Pretty much yeah.” Shuri tapped her fingers on her stomach where they lay interlaced. 

“Even the sex?” Riri probed. There was no way Shuri was just so chill about this. 

Shuri was humored, sensing that Riri was hoping to incite an angry response. “Yes, even the sex. Of which I only heard good things about so I must give you credit Ms.Williams, you kept my girl satisfied.” 

The blush returned to Riri’s face and she felt her lips creep into a smile upon hearing Shuri’s praise. Her cocky side came out and she decided to get smart. “You weren't worried I was gonna take her from you?”

“Oh, not for one second. Y/N’s collared, she’s not going anywhere anytime soon.” Shuri replied confidently. Seeing Riri’s confusion she moved her hand down to the necklace resting on her chest; holding it up before letting it fall back down. “Never noticed her necklace? I know she doesn't take it off.” 

Riri’s mind flashed images of you and to Shuri’s credit in all of the scenes, a golden necklace with a small claw was hanging from your neck. Even in the ones where Riri’s head was buried between your thighs and your head was thrown back as you cam-

‘Focus Riri!’ She thought to herself. 

“So she’s your submissive?” Riri clarified.

“Wow, you are pretty smart. Maybe you do live up to that genius title after all.” Shuri quipped with a smirk. “But yes, Bast has gifted me with an amazing girlfriend and sub.”  

Riri desperately wanted to make a smart remark back at the royal but she stifled it in favor of getting more information about your dynamic Shuri. What she had learned thus far intrigued and turned her on. “And she listens to you, a hundred percent of the time?” 

“A hundred and fifty percent of the time.” Shuri corrected her. “Does she not do the same for you?”

“Hell fuckin no she does not!” Riri exclaimed. “There is not a bone in that girl's body that knows how to listen, everything with her is a fight.” 

“My Y/N? Never. She knows better than to even make me repeat myself.” Shuri was baffled at what Riri had said but also intrigued at the idea of seeing a more bratty side of you.

“I don’t believe it, she’s not physically capable of listening.” Riri tapped the side of her head to mimic how hard-headed you acted with her. 

The sound of the shower turning off, signifying your arrival soon gave Shuri an idea. “Do you want me to show you just how well she listens?” 

A smirk slipped onto Riri’s face as she picked up on Shuri’s idea. “Yeah I do, show me how well your girl listens.” 

Shuri let out a puff of air along with her laugh and nodded. You stepped out of the bathroom looking down at something on your towel. 

Let the show begin.

Your bathroom door was on the wall that ran parallel to where your bed was, so when you looked up you were first met with Shuri. “Whew! I needed that baby, I don’t think I was conscious for the first ten minutes of that shower.” You beamed as you made your way over to the bed, still unaware of Riri’s presence in the room. 

“Of course sthandwa. And more to come tonight, you know that. We wouldn’t want to be rude to our guests before that though. Why don’t you go say hello to our friend.” Shuri nodded past you and to the corner. 

You spun around confused at what “friend” Shuri was referring to and immediately alarm bells began ringing in your head. There sat Riri, looking calm as ever manspreading on your bean bag chair. 

“What’s up ma.” She said with a smirk. 

“Oh fuck no.” You murmured under your breath. Never in your life did you expect to mix your worlds like this. Sure both women had known about the other but never in a million years had you imagined them to be in the same room together. You instantly started moving towards the bathroom door, hoping to lock yourself in and formulate a plan without being under either woman's gaze. 

Of course, Shuri calling out a strong “Stop.” ended all hopes of that as a means of escape. “Go give Riri a kiss, I’ve taught you better manners than that.” 

You looked back at your girlfriend as if she had lost her mind. Yes, you had told her every detail about your relationship with Riri and described the sex in explicit detail. But to kiss her in front of Shuri? Something about that felt so wrong it was right. 

“You know I won’t repeat myself without punishment, usana. Go.” Shuri gestured over to Riri who was taking the whole scene in. She watched as you shifted your weight between your feet, debating if you would listen to Shuri. If Riri was a betting woman, she would have bet her entire life savings at that moment that you wouldn’t listen. 

Good thing Riri didn’t like to bet. 

You walked over to Riri and gave her a small smile, slightly embarrassed knowing that Riri just watched you fold to Shuri. “Hi.” 

“So you do know how to listen the first time?” Riri concluded, the smirk still on her face. 

“Only when the right person asks me.” You maintained, crossing your arms across your chest to keep the towel from falling. Shuri heard your response and let out a light laugh and a “Be nice my love.” 

“You heard what your girlfriend said though ma, gimme me a kiss.” Riri sat up in the beanbag chair awaiting you to make the move. 

You looked back at Shuri one more time, kissing other girls had never been an issue for you before but for some reason doing it in front of her felt different. Secretly it turned you on to know that your girlfriend not only ordered but encouraged you to kiss Riri. 

Fuck it. 

You bent down and Riri pulled your face to hers so that your lips met. As soon as they touched Riri hungrily devoured them savoring the taste of you. By now you knew her style and you opened your mouth slightly so her tongue could come in and meet yours. Shuri watched from the bed as you two made out, turned on by the hunger you both displayed. She could tell the two of you were getting into it, Riri especially as she brought her other hand up to cup your cheek.

Deciding this was the perfect opportunity to prove her point Shuri ordered. “Step back Y/N.” 

Once again if Riri could bet she would have bet her life on the fact that you wouldn’t pull away. You loved kissing and she could tell that you were especially enjoying this little makeout session by the way your chest was heaving up and down. 

And once again it was a good thing Riri didn’t bet often. 

You unlatched your lips from Riri’s and stood back up, taking a few steps back in the process. Riri’s eyes flashed between yours and Shuri’s unable to believe what had just happened. 

“Told you she could listen.”

[cadavercrafts]

You ever get obsessed with characters from a show that was prematurely cancelled so the writers had to kinda rush the story and couldn't create their true vision? Honestly can't recommend.

Anyway here's Professor Venomous and Lord Boxman from "OK K.O." being evil on an evil box with an evil remote! Don't ask me what the remote does, i don't know. Something evil for sure! Suuuch fun cartoon villains and such a fun dynamic, they're very easy for me to love. And apparently they got married kinda off screen (like i said, rushed story) so of course i sculpted them with their rings on. Evily!

I didn't really have much time to sculpt them and i absoluely have to at least add Fink at some point because i love Fink but this works to get these evil men out of my brain for now!

[whiskeynwriting]

Yeaaaaah imma need more Simon x Bones content (if you’re willing, of course!) 🥵 The dynamic you created between the two characters is just ✨chefs kiss✨

Ahhh thank you so much my love!! <3 I very much enjoy writing them 🥰

Come Find Me

Simon “Ghost” Riley x OFC “Bones” 

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Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Dirty talk, size kink, praise kink-ish, oral (f receiving), somnophilia (kind of?), established relationship, fluffiessss

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A/N: Full version is here! Ghost is a tits man, you literally can't change my mind about this.

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Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

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Warm and firm, the weight crushing, yet comforting. There’s the smell of fresh pine, bergamot, the small chill of his chain. It causes a shiver to roll through your body, one you settle into. The bulk of his biceps cage you in, arms snuggled between your back and the mattress. The moment is private and above all, intimate. He’s resting on you, his head turned to the side so his cheek can rest on your chest, right between your breasts. And you welcome it, him and his positioning, legs opened slightly with his pelvis laying between them. Your own arms are around him, too, holding his hulking body above you. 

“How was the mission?” You ask quietly, body consumed by the tenderness of it all. Your hand is smoothing over the back of his head, caressing him. 

“Long.” Is all he says, holding you just a little tighter in those gorgeously sculpted arms. 

And then he groans. It’s a small, happy sound, made as he nuzzles further in. Yeah, he really did miss you.

Right now, on top of being completely at ease, you’re both wondering why the hell you haven’t done this before. Not only are Simon’s quarters smaller, but they’re colder, too, and not just physically. 

The air in the barracks is stiff and unwelcoming. But here, it’s warm, comfortable and inviting. Your space is much bigger than his, being that you’re on base far more often than him. Simon also didn’t prefer to have much in his room, easier to keep clean, he says. But honestly, he’s loving your fairly decorated space. Everything just seems… nicer. Your bed is full in size, opposed to his single-style military issued cot. It’s also softer, has more pillows and blankets, too. There’s also better lighting, you even have a window in here. But it’s closed with the curtains drawn, shutting out the night. To top it all off, you have a mini fridge and a small stash of snacks on the shelf above your desk. He’d kill for that. 

In the quiet lull surrounding you, Simon releases a warm breath over your skin, you’re just in your bra and shorts beneath him. Rubbing his cheek slightly across your chest, he gives the curve of your tit a tender kiss before snuggling in again. 

“Simon?”

“Mm?” He grumbles in response, his mask pulled barely above his lips. 

“I missed you.” You’re cooing to him like he’s a precious baby, and deep inside, he fucking loves it. He loves how caring you are. He’s never been cared for like this. 

Simon has opened up quite significantly since the start of your relationship. And still, nobody knows about it, not even Soap or Price. It’s not necessarily forbidden for the two of you to do this, but you both think it would be frowned upon. Ghost should be focused on his work, and you on yours. But neither of your performances have faltered since the start of this, so, why end it? 

As soon as he returned from their most recent mission, Simon found you. Just like before. But instead of dragging you to his barracks, you suggested your own room. You were less likely to be caught there. So, after showering up, he walked to C-Block, coming up with a multitude of excuses in the case that he’s seen. But he wasn’t, you were right. This block is empty as hell, especially at night. Not many people stay at the base, only essential workers for the team. The only people occupying the other rooms in C-Block were mainly janitors and the occasional assistant nurse. 

“Wasn’t gone that long, love.” He chastises gently, smirking. 

He’s right, he was only gone for a week. But still, you missed him; how could you not? 

“Does that mean you didn’t miss me?” You tease in response, grinning in the near-darkness of your room.

He hums, chuckling. You’re baiting him, and you’re winning. “I did.” 

During the mission, he thought about you, mainly when he went to bed. He tried to keep you out of his head during the day - otherwise it’d get him killed. But on your end, you thought about him all day, while you worked, while you ate, while you bathed. It’s like you ached for him, and you’re so thankful he’s back again. 

Every time they came back from a mission, they got the next day off. Meaning, Simon doesn’t have a strict bedtime tonight, nor an early wakeup call tomorrow. This is the best time for you to enjoy each other’s company. And even though he’s got the night off, and the following day, all he wanted to do was lay down with you. He’s exhausted, physically and mentally drained. And even though he’d never admit it… he wanted to be held by you. He wanted to be close to your body. 

With the blanket pulled over Simon’s large frame, your hands caressing his back, he releases a contented breath. Turning his head, he kisses your breast again, slowly laying his tongue over it. It makes you moan quietly, happily, the warm, wet feeling of it. And when he feels your fingernails drag lightly across his naked back, he grins, licking your curves again. 

“Baby…” It’s a small sigh, lolling your head to the side as you glance down at him. 

“Hm…” He groans slightly, releasing a breath. And then, he leans in, giving your covered, pebbled nipple a delicate kiss. 

Coming home to you feels… good. Good in a way he almost can’t describe. It makes him hopeful about life, you give him something to look forward to. And in the midst of this, he finds his chest tightening with emotion, that smile continuing to tug at his lips. 

“Come here,” He grumbles in that thick, baritone voice. “Closer to me.” 

It’s quiet and calm in your space, his movements reflecting the mood. He’s slow with it, thick fingers wrapping around the edge of your bra. Gently, yet firmly, he tugs it down, freeing your breasts, and you gasp. Lifting his head, his cheek slides over them, nudging the softness of your flesh with his face. 

His one hand slides along your side, finding your waist and squeezing lightly. He truly loves your body, absolutely mesmerized by your tits. Since the two of you started… whatever this is, he’d thought about all the things he could do to you, all the things you could do to him. Unfortunately, there wasn’t always time in the day for things like that. But right now, he’s reveling in this moment, in the night he now has to spare.

“Gorgeous, B.” Simon grunts, gently sucking your nipple into his mouth. 

Now, you moan fully, arching ever so slightly into his touch. Simon always seemed to love your breasts, ever since he got to see them, got to touch them, got to lick on suck on them. 

“Baby…” Cradling his head against you feels different when he’s in your bed. But regardless of where you are, you’re still able to feel how incredibly large he is. His body is dwarfing yours, caging you in and making you feel small and secure.

Laying his tongue out, he runs it over the slope of your breasts, dipping into the valley between them. His mouth suctions to the soft skin on the side of your boob, sucking a mark onto you. It made his insides stir with excitement, seeing you during the day and knowing his mark is resting just beneath the layers of your clothing. 

“Oh my god, I missed you.” Rutting up against him prompts his pelvis to grind down into you, his lips returning to your pointed peaks. 

“Yeah… I know you did.” He responds teasingly.

And his cheeky attitude doesn’t even phase you, because the motions of his mouth have become hungry, and he’s groaning, his humid breaths huffing out across your chest. You can practically feel the heat radiating from him, the muscles beneath his hot skin moving against you. He feels strong, keeping his weight in mind as he presses into you. 

He’s more than eager to have you again, but honestly, he’s not looking for a hard fuck. Right now, he’s yearning for a sweet sense of intimacy. He’d never ask for it, though, not verbally. But when he was gone, it’s all he thought about, holding you close in his bed, feeling your little limbs wrap around him again.

“Baby,” Comes that deep accent, his baritone voice. “Fuckin’ love doing this to you.” 

Only your table lamp is on, the one sitting atop your nightstand. And in this atmosphere of barely-there darkness, you grin. He’s never called you baby before. 

“I love when you do it.” Your voice is sweet and soft, just how he likes it. 

Something inside him stirs, feeling incredibly grateful for you. In the two times you’ve had him, it was clear to see that he wasn’t a selfish lover. He liked letting you know just how attractive you are to him, no matter the situation. And these thoughts prompt him to move down, mouth slowly sliding over your rib cage and belly. It makes your insides tingle, feeling him crawl down your body. 

“Wanna do somethin’ else, too.” He’s mumbling against you, his stubble just barely scratching your skin. And by now, he’s dry humping you, repeatedly rolling his hips into your pelvis. 

The way he’s touching you makes you moan, releasing an airy breath. Lightly, his teeth nip at your skin, tongue soothing the sting. You want to ask him what, baby? What else do you want to do? But he’s distracting you. 

“Wanna lay between your legs.” Jesus, you could listen to his voice for hours. It’s so sexy, the deep rumble of it. He’s mumbling over your skin, his eyes closed when says, “Wanna taste you again.” 

Naturally, his words make you perk up, lifting your head to stare down at him. The hand on your waist squeezes again, thumb brushing over your belly as he kisses it. He can feel its inhale, the push and pull of your breath. And when his lips meet your skin, his eyes lift, finding yours and sending a shock through your being.

“You want to… taste me?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” 

“Simon…” You’re rolling your eyes, but his words bring you right back to him. 

“Wanna eat that pretty little pussy.” He says it so easily, so casually. 

Simon’s only done this with you one time before, and the entire ordeal was pretty quick. But by the way he’s moving, by the way he’s talking, it’s like he wants to put his mouth on you and just keep it there. While he was gone, he thought of it constantly - going down on you, you going down on him. The ladder has yet to happen. He bets you’d be good at it, but he doesn’t know for sure. All he knows is that he is good at it, and he knows it because he’s made you cum before. He remembers your taste, your smell, how you wriggled beneath his arms and cried out for him.

“I’ll let you sleep, lovely.” He promises, his breath fanning over your chest. It smells like mint, clean and fresh. “I just want it, B, please.” And this shocks you; he’s never begged like this. “Can I?”

It’s grown late; originally, he got back to base around ten. But he still wanted to find you. It’s become an unspoken rule between the two of you. No matter when he returns, no matter how late or early it may be, he’ll come and find you. He knows you wouldn’t refuse. 

Your quiet voice speaks into the night, “Yes.”

Dropping his forehead onto your stomach, he groans. A quiet fuck leaves his lips, his body moving forward so he can kiss you. Bulging biceps hold his body up as he leans in, one of his hands sliding beneath your hair to hold the back of your head. The kiss isn’t brief, it’s deep, his tongue invading your space. It dives into your mouth, languidly and passionately rubbing over your own. It’s so easy for you to get him going, too easy, in his opinion. 

Sighing into his kiss, your hands slide down, holding either side of his mostly-hidden face. Rhythmically, his lips move against you, tongue allowing you to taste his spit. And the more he shoves it into your mouth, the more excited you become, eager to feel these same movements between your legs. As the two of you continue to grow close, you’ve noticed how much he likes kissing. And he’s rather good at it. 

“You want me to lick you, B?” Ghost asks hurriedly against your lips. “Want my tongue in your sweet pussy?” 

“Fuck, Simon.” Bringing him in, you urge him to press his forehead to your own. “Yes.”

Maybe it’s because he spends most of his time with his mouth covered, maybe that’s why he’s so eager to use it on you. It’s almost like he’s curious with it, wanting to experiment with you. 

Broad palms finding your hips, his fingers dipping past the hemline of your panties and shorts to pull them off in one go. He’s gentle with you, sliding them down your legs. And then he notices the uncomfortable position of your bra, reaching up to free you of this, too.

“You get cozy, love.” His voice is rough, gravely, his accent thick and wafting through the air. 

Sighing happily, you do as he says, relaxing your muscles and laying back for him. And while you begin to rest, Simon does the opposite. His body is becoming more aroused by the second, and his thoughts won’t stop running laps in his head. While he was gone, he thought about you… so much. Honestly, almost nothing else made its way into his head. Simon felt like he needed you, and that scared him. But in the same sense, thinking of you also comforted him. 

“Pretty…” He mumbles, kissing his way down the inside of your thigh. Settling on his stomach, he sighs, looping his arms beneath your legs, hands resting on your hips. 

“… fucking annoying?” You ask with a laugh, repeating his ongoing joke with you.

And it makes him chuckle, shaking his head. “Nah, not this time.”

Widening your legs for him, you reach for another pillow to support your head. You want to watch this. And with the extra support, you do, witnessing Simon’s gorgeous lips become wet with his tongue. 

With a heavy exhale, he’s leaning in, closing his eyes when his mouth meets your thigh. His fingertips curl into the meat at your hips when his teeth come out, nipping at you before his tongue swipes over your skin. Releasing a small moan, Simon begins to relax, his mouth languidly sucking on the sweet flesh of your thigh. 

“Gonna take my time with you.” 

“Baby…” Your hands are on his head, fingers sliding over the back of his mask. And he leans into your touch, humming from it. 

When he’s done leaving his first mark on you, he drags the point of his nose up your inner thigh, nuzzling it into the crease of your leg. Sliding his tongue out, he licks up this small valley, moving it over your labia. Your lips part when he does it, brows raising as he continues to lick you. An open-mouthed kiss is then placed directly on your center, his lips briefly sucking yours in. 

“Pretty,” He grumbles again, eyes remaining closed. Another kiss to your center, then another little lick. “Pretty baby… pretty ‘n pink…”

It makes you giggle; he’s really starting to let go around you. 

“You like when I call you names?” He asks, gently laying his tongue over your hooded clit.

Nodding, you grin, nibbling on the corner of your lip. And then, your hips jerk from the sensation, his tongue running over you again. “Yes.”

“Yeah,” He replies easily, cockily. “I know you do.”

“You think you know me so well, don’t you?”

“I know what you like,” Again, a quick and easy reply. “What makes you move.”

Okay, yeah. That’s true. But you’re not giving up that easily.

“So, what?”

And then he’s shoving his tongue into you, directly into your warm center. It makes you yelp quietly, moaning dramatically when he begins pumping it into you. 

“I’m gonna need you to stop talking.” Ghost says when he removes his mouth from you. Turning, he wipes his face off on your sensitive skin, kissing it before returning to your sex again. 

One of Simon’s broad hands slides up your side, fingertips curling around your right breast and squeezing lightly. 

“Fuck,” Groaning, you plop your head back. “You make it so hard to -” 

And then that same hand is on your mouth, covering it. “No talking.” 

For some reason, this makes your eyes roll back, sighing into his hand. The skin of his palm is rough but you love it, you love feeling the ruggedness of him. And it works in his favor, because you immediately stop talking. 

With his eyes closed, he mouths at you, siding his tongue up through your folds and using the tip of it to circle your clit. Keeping his hand on your mouth, he slides his thumb across your lower lip, the motion making you moan. Applying gentle pressure, you part your lips, allowing his thumb to slide in. Wrapping your mouth around it, you suck, one of your hands leaving his head to cup the breast he left. And while you suck on him, he sucks on you, just barely pulsating his mouth around your tiny nub. 

“Mm,” Helplessly, your hips buck up, eyes pinching shut while you moan around his thumb. 

“You like that?” He asks, keeping pressure on your tongue. 

All you do is nod, whining quietly and pushing your hips closer to his face. Grinning, he dives back in, wet tongue laying out over your sensitive skin. 

It feels so lewd and exciting and it makes your insides tingle, having him between your legs like this again. He’s so good at this, he’s fucking amazing at this. And it makes you wonder, how many women has he been with? But that thought flies out of your head when he takes his thumb out of your mouth, lowering it to himself. Licking the pad of it, briefly tasting your spit, he then rubs it over your clit, watching your hips buck from it. 

“Simon, please.”

“You’re supposed to be enjoyin’ this, remember? Supposed to be relaxing for me.”

While you’re whimpering from both frustration and agonzing arousal, his mouth finds your leg, sucking another mark into it. He keeps pressure on your sensitive clit, rubbing it gently but most certainly enough to stimulate it. 

“Just lay back, sweetness.” He urges, taking his thumb away once again. “Let me lick it.” 

“Oh, Simon.” Again, your head drops back, a fresh wave of arousal spilling from your lips. His voice, his words, they affect you so much.

Happy with your compliance, he sighs, releasing a cool breath directly over your sex. He watches your skin pebble from it, the muscles in your legs tightening ever so slightly around him. Using the strength in his hands, he lifts your legs, placing your knees on his shoulders with your calves resting on his back. Holding you in this position encases him between your thighs, his mouth now focusing directly on you. 

Both of your hands return to his head, fingers scraping along the black fabric. Accidentally, they pull up the back of it, but just barely. You expect Simon to freeze, to jerk away from your hold and scold you for it. But he doesn’t; he’s trusting you. With your heart racing inside your chest, you slide the mask back down so it’s completely covering the back of his head. And when you do it, he hums, a small sound of gratitude and approval. 

“Baby…” 

Lord, he loves when you call him that. It feels so soft and domestic, so sweet. Especially coming from you. 

“Mm… that’s it.” Mumbling over your sex, he groans. “It’s okay, sweets. You can be as loud as you want here.”

And he’s right. You’re sure no one will hear you, not in this block. With that realization, you feel yourself let go, a wanton moan slipping from your throat. 

“That’s it,” That particular sound riles him up quite a bit, his tongue diving into your pussy once again. “That’s more like it.” 

Quickly, he flicks the tip of his tongue over the peak of your sex, but with a deep, rugged breath, he reels himself back in. 

“No, nonono. Baby, please. Please, do that again.” You’re reaching out for him, whining and begging him to continue that pace. 

“Mm-mm,” Shaking his head, he sighs. Turning his head, he nuzzles his nose into the inside of your thigh. “Don’t you wanna sleep, B?”

“I, well…”

“Just sleep,” He coos, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips. “Let me take care of you.” 

Those specific words make your heart fucking burst. Doing as he says, you lay back, taking away the extra pillow beneath your head. After all, he’s right. You’re absolutely exhausted, and so is he. But he doesn’t want to sleep, he wants to enjoy you. So, you decide to let him.

You’re not sure how long he plans to do this for, but regardless, you get yourself cozy. Dragging a blanket over your upper half, you make sure to keep it above his head, not wanting him to get too hot beneath it. 

“B-Baby,” You’re mumbling now, eyes beginning to drift shut. His licks and kisses are light, tender. 

“Shh…” He mutters, softly ordering, “Turn off the light.”

Leaning over, you do, settling in even more than before. He feels you shuffle, nestling into your extraordinarily comfy bed. Resting between your legs, he holds onto you, gently massaging your muscles while he mouths at your sex. It’s something… different, something incredibly new and intimate. And when he hears your tiny yawn, it makes him happy. He really does want you to relax. Truthfully, this is all he’s thought about doing. 

At first, you’re listening, your eyes drifting shut to the subtle sounds of him licking you. The sensation of it is delightful, his head resting on your right thigh while he keeps his mouth on you. The gentle vibrations of his occasional moans and hums lull you to sleep, drifting in and out of slumber as minutes quickly turn into a full hour. And Simon still hasn’t moved, still hasn’t stopped, nor slowed down, nor sped up. He’s just tasting you, enjoying this timid exploration. It’s a gentle indulgement, something he’s only dreamed of doing to you. 

Your wetness trickles from the seams of your sex, and he continues to lick it up, hearing your little snores while he does. Lazily, his head rocks to a slow rhythm when he feels your thighs begin to quiver. But you’re still asleep, your breathing still steady.

The taste of you is tangy, but still genuinely sweet. It’s something he really does love. He could and will stay here for hours, for as long as he can. In the darkness, it feels so… private. So wonderfully personal and delicate. 

It’s slow and lazy, the sleepy orgasm he brings to you. Your hips roll up against him, his lips suctioning ever so gently to your clit. He rides it out with you, feeling one of your hands pet at him. You’re smiling, just barely, still lost in the thoughts of your dreamscape. 

Wetness spills from you, and he cleans it up with his tongue. You’re wet from him, his saliva lingering after your cum is gone. The roughness of his taste buds are dragged along your inner thighs, catching any juices he might’ve missed. But really, he just wants to savor it. 

“B-Baby…” It’s small and quiet and just so… cute. You sound so sleepy and delicate. 

Grunting quietly, Simon lifts himself, leaning onto his left forearm. With his free hand, he uses the back of it to wipe off his face, groaning from your subtle smell. 

When he looks down, he can just barely see you in the darkness, one of your hands reaching for him. Leaning in, he nuzzles his cheek into the palm of your hand, smiling before turning to kiss it. Shuffling around, he manages to maneuver his body next to yours. Your bed is backed into the corner of your room, and you’d been laying on the outer edge. But that side is closer to the window, and you sleeping right beside it just doesn’t sit well with him. So, he gently nudges you, moving you with his strong arms until you’re safely next to him. 

“Baby,” You softly call again, whining quietly.

“I’m here, sweetness.” He finally returns, sliding one bulky arm beneath your head.

Turning on your side, he feels you bring yourself into his chest. For some reason, it surprises him, someone wanting to be this close to him. On his back, he relaxes, feeling one of your small hands slide across his chest. And then you do something that really shocks him, something that makes every vein in his body feel electric. Gently, you find and hold onto his dog tags. 

Using his other hand, he slides it over yours and up to your forearm, holding you with it. And now, with one arm beneath your head and the other on your arm, he’s got you wrapped up in the secure cage of him.

He doesn’t know if he should say it, but with a deep sigh, he decides to go through with it. “I’m really… really glad I found you.”

In your sleepy state, you assume he’s talking about when he got back to base. The past few times, he’s always come looking for you. Little do you know, his words hold a deeper meaning. Sleepily, though, you respond to him.

“Always want you to.” Mumbling, you kiss his naked chest, sighing. “Always want you to come find me.” 

[fedoraspooky]

Okay Spooky, if you don't mind random questions- what's your favourite Disney movie?

Oh I don't mind at all! I'm actually quite tickled to get one out of the blue like this. nwn

But yes! Answer! Uh, well... Honestly a lot of the ones in the 80s and 90s hold a bit of sentimental value to me due to the fact that my dad worked on them. I would always leave the tape running through the credits until I spotted his name. ;w; In fact, on the DvD for Treasure Planet, if you go to the special features you can actually see him in the making of featurette, where they're asking him about how he sculpted the cyborg parts for John Silver! But, er, yes- favorites!

I would say, it's kind of a toss up between two-

I LOVE The Great Mouse Detective. It encapsulates a lot of stuff I like about that era of Disney, and I do enjoy me a good detective story. The animation is smooth and full of character, and has that rough-lined charm of the xerox era, and the backgrounds? Absolutely gorgeous. The story is fun and full of great comedic moments and also moments that downright terrified me as a kid (That Fidget jumpscare and everything leading up to it still gives me the heebie jeebies). But most of all, I love the characters and the dynamics between all of them, especially whatever Basil and Ratigan have going on. Dear lord. Really not surprising this movie ended up being part of my big list of inspos when writing Kilroy. XD

Second movie- and I know some people don't count it as Disney but to hell with it, it was in kingdom hearts so it darn well counts in my book- The Nightmare Before Christmas. GOD, this movie. When it first came out, I couldn't make it past the opening song because I was scared of the clown with the tearaway face. I shit you not. BUT once I was past that, it quickly became an obsession in my little kid mind. My mom actually showed me a PHOTO she has of me from when I was still in my single digits of age, in which apparently I had taken a black permanent marker to my face to draw rings around my eyes and lines on my mouth so I could look like Jack Skellington. My mom still has it framed in her living room to this day. XD But yes, I sang all the songs, I drew Jack and Sally and Zero all over whatever paper I could get my hands on, and I even made a christmas ornament of Jack's head out of sculpey that we put on the tree every year since. It was probably a huge reason that I became such a huge Halloween and spooky-things lover. And even to this day, it resonates a LOT with me as a movie about someone who is just experiencing the WORST artistic burnout. That's really what this movie is about, I've written a whole-ass essay of a post once rambling about Jack's Lament as a song because of the feels it gave me (i tried to find it but idk if i deleted it during a scare of tumblr copyright striking blogs for music a long while back or if tumblr's blog search function is just poop, either is possible).

Anyway I've talked your ear off long enough, my apologies for the long post but sadly that is what happens when you get me talking about stuff I like. <XD ; Every time I say I won't, but then I become this: