#you're so thoughtful and kind sending me an ask <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[mayasaurusss]

could we pretty please get something about being in a flirty rivalry with Shauna shipman? thanks if you do :3

Tha's kinky, Shipman

Contains: afab Shauna, afab reader, angry sex, use of swear words, enemies to more. A/N: after I saw the end of episode two, I just couldn't let this ask sit in my inbox any longer😂, Enjoy, Shauna simps!

You don't like Shauna Shipman. You never liked her, not once since you met her. There was something dark about her, something that scared you, but you couldn't place your finger on it.

It certainly didn't help when she started to nitpick you for being a newbie in the team.

"You have to get the ball in the net, okay? In the net" she told you with those dark eyes of her burning holes in your head. You tried and tried, but no matter what you did, it was never enough for Shauna.

It wasn't long enough that you started to reciprocate her behavior. Did she miss a goal or fell on her ass during practice? Oh you would for sure let her know. At every chance you get, you'll tease the shit out of her, watching as her eyes become dangerously dark. It's the same routine today. Monday afternoon, the sky is dark, the rain cold, but you still commit your mind and body to the bit. You are on the opposite team, facing Lottie, Natalie, Taissa and Shauna. A loud whistle marks the beginning of the game, giving everyone the sign to start.

You're up first, face to face with Shauna. She passess the ball to Mari, but she fails and lets it slip right into your grasp, earning exasperated insults from her teammates. You kick the ball with your right foot, trying to send it to Laura Lee, but it's swiftly stolen by the brunette, who now aims for the net. Just as she's about to score a goal, she slips in the mud, falling face first into it and losing the opportunity to score one point for her team. You, who ran after her, stop right at her feet, already savouring the words in your mouth.

"You're supposed to get the ball in the net, okay? In the net" and oh it feels so good to say that. But Shauna has a different opinion. "You- fucker!" she's about to raise her fist and land it square on your face, but before she can do that, she's stopped by Taissa.

Now it's Gen's turn. She runs across the field, dodging the others, until she passes the ball to you. Fate wanted you to suffer Shauna's own fate. Just as you are about to score, you're yanked backwards by the back of your shirt, its edge pressing terribly hard on your neck and exposing your lower back to the cold winter's air, then, to the wet grass below. Shauna, that little bitch, is the culprit, smiling that fucking stupidly cruel smile of her as you writhe under her weight. She decided to sit directly on top of your hips, flashing her victory right on your face.

You couldn't stand her. But if that's the case, why everytime she stalks you during a game, falls on top of you and gives you that shit eating grin of hers, your heart skips a beat?

"What the fuck is your problem?!" you scream at her, watching as her face turns into a snarl. Did she really expect you to thank her for almost making you break your spine? "You are the one who fucking fell on top of me first!" it's not long that you two both scream at each other that Coach Scott comes, sending you on the sidelines until the game's over, forcing you to do five laps around the entire field.

You stop when six pm hits, standing in the locker room wet and cold like a stray puppy.

You try so hard not to give that crazy bitch next you any kind of attention, but she beats you to it. "You are so full of shit" she says, evidently not able to stop her mouth from spewing hate at you. "Excuse me? You are the one who started it!" a vein pops in your head, ready to pump blood in your heart and making you aggressive. "Yeah, because you fucking suck at soccer. Have you ever thought of doing something more your league? Like, I don't know, cheerleading? You'd be good at that"; Shauna doesn't grasp how that sounds until the last word spills from her lips. "Why, because I'm hot or because you'd like to see me in a skirt?" for a moment, her brain entertains the idea, picturing you in a skimpy cheerleader dress, cheering for her... What the fuck are you thinking?

"You'd look good..." she never meant for it to slip from her lips, already regretting it as you turn to her with a snarky look on your face. God, she wishes she could erase it, wishes she could force you to your knees and relish in your pain. Or pleasure. She's not really sure. "What was that?", Shauna makes the effort to not meet your gaze as she speaks, fearing that if she locks her eyes with yours, she won't be able to resist you. "No, I wouldn't; because all you could ever hope to become in this life is a bimbo. You are as dumb as them. I'm sure you'd like to get fucked like one too". Fucked like one? That's kinky, Shipman.

"I'd say bimbos deserve more respect: they sure have more of it than you" she shuts close her locker, the force of the impact sending droplets of water everywhere. She stomps over just in time for you to turn, slamming her hand on your throath and sending your head on the locker. "That's it. I'm fucking tired of you and your bullshit".

"And what are you gonna do about it, Shipman? Trample over me next practice? Fuck me in this locker room?"; oh you so deserved this.

Shauna doesn't even register her lips on yours until she hears your moan. She has you trapped between her and the locker, her hands bruising your hips with the sheer strength behind her touch.

The ghost of her teeth on your lips is harsh, biting and snarling like she's a wolf savouring its delicious prey. She's pressed so tightly against you that breathing proves difficult, your brain barely registering the lack of oxygen until she draws away, wiping a trail of spit with the back of her band, before assaulting your lips again.

She parts your legs with her knee, making space to slip her hand beneath your shorts. You’re wet enough for her to hook her pointer finger over the hood of your clit, but not enough to enter you just yet. Shauna kisses and licks at the neck of your skin, makes out with you like a starved woman, like your lips will be the last ones she will feel on hers. And when her fingers slide between your folds with ease, she pushes them in, gasping at how tightly you're gripping her.

"There it is. Look, you could be good at something, if you were a slut" those dark eyes of hers look into you, her lips curling in a cruel smirk. She's really taking pleasure in hurting you, isn't she?

You don't want to let her words affect you, but you guess you don't know any better. "Fuck off Shipman" you say between gritted teeth, anger stronger than pleasure is. But when she straightens her fingers inside, touching a spot that makes you see stars, you gasp loudly, earning a sick laugh from your rival.

You don't last long, pleasure taking a hold of your brain. White flashes beneath your eyelids, so close to the edge that you can practically feel it. But you're moving too much for Shauna's liking: she presses against you by the height of her crotch, effectively trapping you more into her space. You come under her touches, finally losing yourself in pleasure, staining your and her jersey probably forever.

You are far too tired, limbs so weak that you slide right down on the ground. Just when you think she's gonna be soft, that she will hold you and ask you if you are okay, Shauna walks towards the locker room's exit, a barely disguised warm gaze in her eyes. "Clean yourself up" she says, leaving you alone.

It's still raining when Shauna sits at the bus stop. She kicks away pebbles with her foot, replaying what she did to you tonight over and over again. Almost instinctively, she looks at the hand that made you ride your high, only to find faint traces of you on them.

The blush that spreads through her face could rival the reddest of tomatoes, and she quickly fishes for a napkin and the remnants of water in her bottle, cleaning herself at the best she could.

Shit. That was... Wow.

If Shauna really hates you, then why does she wants to see that fucked out look on your face again? And why does her heart skip a beat thinking about you? Ah! "Fuck".

[weird-is-life]

First date charm

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x singlemom!reader

Summary: You think that Bucky is too good for you

Warnings: fluff, mentions of food, like one swear word

Words: 1.1k

----------------------------------------------------

I'm so sorry, James... but I don't think I'll be able to make it to the restaurant today. Again, I'm really sorry, I don't think i'll be able to see you anymore. You send a text to James Barnes.

The babysitter cancelled on you last minute, and with nobody else to watch your son you had to cancel the date.

Yes, you were definitely bummed about it because the first day with him was pretty much perfect. He was such a gentleman, and it felt like you could talk to him about anything. And it was like you could see him in your future immediately.

But you can't escape the nagging feeling that Bucky deserves better than you, than a single mom with a kid. Even though it hurts you more than you can admit.

Bucky feels devastated when he reads your text. He doesn't know what he did wrong. He thought the things were going great?

It was Sam that put you two together, and at first Bucky wanted to throttle him for setting up the date without asking Bucky first.

But after the first date Bucky was more than thankful. You were so kind and lovely and beautiful, and on Bucky's mind all the time since the date.

So he doesn't know what's happened. He tries to call you like 3 times, hoping for more of an explanation than only that text. He even texts you a few more times.

He starts to get worried when you don't respond. He would be thankful even if you just picked up the phone to tell him to fuck off, but you don't, and it drives him crazy.

He waits for your response for 2 hours, debating on just going up to your apartment to see if you are okay.

But after the 2 hours it gets too much for him. His mind going to the worst possible scenarios. He can't help it. The years of trauma don't make it easy for him to live, and not worry.

He gets to your apartment pretty quickly, his motorcycle makes it easy to speed through traffic. He paces nervously in front of the building, maybe he shouldn't have come here.

He contemplates for a few more minutes, and then rings the bell. Maybe you will think that he's crazy psychopath for showing up at your doorsteps, but he has to make sure you're okay.

You don't expect anybody to ring the bell to your apartment as soon as you put your son to sleep. You definitely don't expect to hear Bucky's voice from the intercom.

His soft 'can I come up?' makes your heart flatter, and you buzz him in. He's up the stairs on your floor quickly. And of course, he has a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"James, what are you doing here?" you ask quietly. He looks so handsome for the cancelled date, and it makes you feel even worse.

"I'm sorry for showing up...You weren't answering your phone, and-and I was worried." He looks apologetically at you.

"My phone....oh-" you quickly dissappear into your apartment, searching for your phone.

Bucky doesn't mean to snoop, but with the door wide open he notices all of the toys and kids stuff. His mouth goes dry a bit.

"I'm sorry, James, I had my phone on quiet.....," you stop talking when you follow Bucky's gaze. His eyes roaming all over the things.

"What's all this? You have a kid?"  Bucky looks baffled, like he just saw a ghost in front of him.

"Yes." You admit, guilt for not telling him all over your face. You thought that Sam had told Bucky about Teo, but you realised on the date that he hadn't.

You wanted to tell him, you really did. But you just wanted to see how the first date goes first. And in between the first and the second date the thoughts of Bucky being too good for you settled in your mind.

I mean, he's so charming, and probably the nicest man you have ever met. He's also so so respectful. And god, he's so handsome as well, those piercing blue eyes? To die for...

"I wanted to tell you, Bucky. I just....you deserve someone else. Not me with a kid. I-I loved our date, but I know what guys think about women with kids. It's not very attractive...," you sigh. You have experienced rejections from guys because of Teo before.

"Wait, wait, wait, doll. Did I give you the impression that I'd care about such things?" Bucky almost immediately asks. "I don't care that you have a kid, I like you, and I loved the date with or without knowing that you have a kid."

"You say that now, but what about when-" he interrupts you before you can finish.

"Doll, I like you! How about we just take it one date at a time, yeah? Let's see where this goes?" Bucky tries to reason with you. He doesn't want to let you go without even getting to know you properly. Like fuck, he hasn't felt this kind of connection in a long, long time.

"Are you sure? 'Cause I'd understand if not, I really would," you try to give him a smile to convince him (and yourself) which doesn't really work.

Bucky slowly takes your hand into his, and squeezes your hand in reassurance, "I'm very sure. I like you, and I don't know If I should be a little offended that you thought I'd mind that you are a mom.."

His attempt at lightening the mood is successful. You chuckle at his words, and he gives you a smile in return.

You eye the bouquet of the flowers in his other hand,"are those for me?"

"Who else?" Bucky murmurs teasingly as he hands you the beautiful flowers.

"Thank you, Bucky. They are beautiful," you say sheepishly, "but I still can't go on the date today. There's nobody who can watch Teo." You tell him a little disappointed.

"No, that's okay, doll. I just wanted to make sure that we were okay, but more importantly that you were okay. I should go tho," he says, and leans down bravely to kiss your cheek goodbye.

He can see your cheeks go rosy instantly. The blush making you even more pretty.

"W-wait, Bucky," you catch his hand before he can turn away, " you could stay, Teo is asleep....we could order pizza or-or whatever you like." You almost face slap yourself for acting like some unsure teenager in love. Stammering over your words.

Bucky thinks it over for a few seconds before he smiles at you," I'd love to, and pizza sounds fantastic."

"Great, c'mon." You happily pull him after you inside the apartment while apologising for all the mess. But Bucky couldn't care less about that, he's just more than happy he gets to spend time with you again.

[lonewolflupe]

Happy Valentine's Day from Fives! Read messages below the cut

To: @queen-of-mandalore

Thank you so much for being my friend and someone to bounce fic ideas off of. You’re such a great writer and I can’t wait to see how your fic progresses. Happy Valentine’s Day, my friend!

From: Misty 💙 ( @tealmisthams )

To: @snarkyfina

I just wanted to say thank you so much for your support of my writing and for joining me in my love of Five-soka. 💙🧡 Happy Valentine’s Day, my friend!

From: Misty 💙 ( @tealmisthams )

(Note from Lupe: I'm sorry for adding the '-' in 'Five-soka', but I didn't want to get this post filtered!)

To: @tealmisthams

Misty!

Please accept some Fives as a token of my gratitude for your lovely friendship <3 I'm at a bit of a loss for words (ironic, given my messages are usually paragraphs long) to express how truly thankful I am for our wonderful chats, character analyses, Fives and Ahsoka fangirling, Severance theories, and for all the writing support. You are an incredibly talented writer and truly have a gift for balancing angst with really sweet/tender moments. You always manage to do it just right and I am always inspired by what you create and how dedicated you are to working on your writing while balancing everything else in your life. TEACH ME YOUR WAYS!

Thank you for all the wonderful works you've created for the fandom and for your friendship. I'm always excited to get a notification from you.

Sending you much love (and to Sable/Mabel),

Mimi (and Fives, who inserts a few winking emojis here)

From: @aknightreaderr

…

To: @tealmisthams

I don't know you very well but you made the mistake of being nice to me (tagging me in a tag game) and you ain't getting rid of me. You're my beloved mutual now.

From: Kote ( @kotemf )

To: @aknightreaderr

To my dearest editor,

First of all, I know you might be disappointed in receiving a Valentine's message from me instead of from a certain sensitive (sensible? sensory? sensational? serious?) sergeant, but he was unavailable. Believe me, I tried, but a certain.. biting child got in the way, so I couldn't reach him. So I get an A for effort and you get a F for Fives!

Jokes aside (although I know Hunter is no joke to you), I'd like to thank you for your service and your friendship (and your patience). I know I can be a real handful, and so do Echo and Rex and Fox and probably a few (million) more. But after everything I put you through (fame included, of course), you're still sticking with me. And I really admire that about you.

Just know you are loved and appreciated around here. Rex just said how lucky I am with you as my editor, so I called him Captain Obvious.

Wishing you lots of love (Echo just added: wish her lots of love 😏)!

From: Fives

…

To: @aknightreaderr

Hi! I really love your blog. Your writing is incredible and it always makes me laugh. Also Ask Fives is a brilliant idea and you write it so, so well! I really admire your ability to write crack.

You were also the first person on Tumblr to tag me for a writing challenge or a tag game, I don't really remember what it was anymore but thanks. It meant a lot. It's an honor to be able to call you a mutual.

From: Kote ( @kotemf )

To: @lonewolflupe

Lupe, bestie!

It’s ya boy Fives. You really thought that you could hide behind this event and share the love and not receive any back? YOU ARE WRONG!

How do I love LoneWolfLupe? Let me count the ways. Actually, I won’t count the ways because that would take all of eternity and it’s not that I don’t have time for that, but I think I might lose my voice (RIP).

Lupe, there is no one quite like you - equal parts kindness, chaotic (which makes me shed a tear bc you get the Domino Twin vibes), creative (a writer AND an artist? The galaxy is shaking in its boots), and encouraging. Your selfless nature could melt the coldest heart (maybe I should get you to talk to Rex when he won’t let us go to 79s because we’re ‘a handful.’ I know you could sweet talk him out of it. And also because if you don’t come with us, then where is the party?)

Always keep your head raised high and take life a day at a time. You are more than capable of achieving anything you can dream on the timeline that suits YOU (Echo said that was cringe life advice but please know I speak from the heart).

But truly Lupe, I’ve never met anyone so generous and supportive as you. Thanks for all you do for us clones (and the earthlings). We always have your back! *insert lots of winks here and a hug and also Tup says hi*

Happy Valentines Day 💙

LIVE LAUGH LONEWOLFLUPE,

Fives

p.s. I wrote you a poem which is from me and Echo but he didn't write it

From: Fives

Roses are red

The 501st is blue

LoneWolfLupe

Oh how I love you!

(Note from Lupe: shedding a tear again as I re-read this whilst preparing this post. I appreciate you so much, thank you for this message <3)

...

To: @lonewolflupe

your positivity and passion is radiant! you uplift and spread love to so many. for you to make events (like this one) is so sweet

every interaction i've had with you has been nothing short of lovely and i hope so many more can feel it too <3

From: @littletroggo

(Note from Lupe: Thank you so much for your kind message, I appreciate it so much! <3)

Heart divider by @/saradika-graphics

[zepskies]

3 whole days?!?! Oh my God, Ben must've been losing his mind. 🥲 Also hoping Benny is with dear Mrs. Brooks so he's not in the middle of this life or death situation. 💜

When Ben asked her how she felt, she only replied with “Like I fucking survived D-Day.” At that, Ben had snorted and said, “At least one of us did.”

*snorts* What a good comeback, though surprised Ben acknowledged that so easily. 😝

And when they were both sure the worst was over and she wouldn’t turn the car into bubbling liquid as well, Ben finally drove her to a hospital. She was still weak, mostly from not eating a thing in four days. The doctors thought she must’ve had a severe case of the flu, gave her an IV drip with plenty of nutrients, and then released her after a few tests.

God I'm so relieved!! You had me going there for a while. 😭 But with your promise of a happy ending here I held onto my seat and kept calm.

Y/N almost breaks a smile. She can’t remember if he had ever asked this much about her well-being before. Her little brush with death might have shaken his steeled core more than she’d initially figured, and her heart swells slightly at the thought.

Aww hun, she still has her insecurities with him and how he feels about her 🥺 (and they way he blew up at her recently, it's understandable).

Sometimes, she still thinks he only keeps her around because he doesn’t know any better. It’s like getting an abused dog from the shelter – you never know if they really love you or if they only tolerate you because you’re nice enough to feed them.

💀💀 But honestly yeah, it's a good analogy for how she met him in rehab (even if she was an inmate there as well). 😭

Also I love that eating enough to feed a small army was part of her recuperation lolll. Talk about ravenous -- but I have a feeling she's craving something else now. 😏❤️‍🔥

“Don’t forget the churros.” She giggles, and on cue, she rolls fully on top of him and straddles his waist, spreading featherlight kisses along the paths her fingers trailed.

LOL she's so cute. Can't forget the churros -- now to straddle her man.~

“Not surprising. I already know how much you can stuff in that fucking mouth, doll.” Ben’s wide smirk is full of pride, and it causes her to giggle.

lmfao another top tier Ben line. 🤌🏽

“You sure about that?” she checks, but her tone is more than a little teasing. “There’s a lot of kinks to pick from.” “Why does your generation always have to label fucking everything? It’s fucking sex. That’s it.” He huffs a bit too defensively, and she tries her best to muzzle her laugh. “What’s fucking wrong with it?”

LOLL honestly I'm kind of with him on that one. Why is everything labelled a "kink" nowadays? 🤣🤣🤣

“Well, there you go,” he retorts. “I’m super fucking old and married. You’re gonna keep fucking chit-chatting or are you gonna do it now?” “Fine, I’ll make love to you,” she relents with a smirk as she voices his little secret out loud.

Wayne omggg! Seeing your note at the end, I DO remember sending you that Ask!! I'm so happy to see it done here because it's absolutely perfect for these two and this moment. Thank you for using the idea! 🥹💓

Deep down, Gramps just wants to be made love to, and you gave him his heart's desire. 😘

The rest of their "making up" time for V-Day was simultaneously so hot and funny and fluffy and romantic -- my favorite combo honestly. I melted in several different ways. 💗💗💗

(The "it's his Olympics" line was particularly perfect loll. ❤️‍🔥)

“Like a fucking faucet,” he murmurs appreciatively

*snorts* 🤭😏 I see you, Wayne.

Also on brand that he'd be such an ungrateful whiny sourpuss on his birthday. �� Like DUDE, she's just been busting her ass to bake him a cake and make his day feel special, but what, he doesn't want to get another year older? (Too late, you're already old.)

Or what, he doesn't want to be doted on? STFU and put on your party hat! 🥳

(or is he just cranky and salty that she said no to blow? lmfao)

“Baby, please, my feet hurt really bad.” She pouts, and he finally gets up with a deep sigh. She smiles wickedly.

YES. I have this headcanon too, that this is the only way to manipulate him into doing what you want. Especially when he's being a prima donna. 🤣

“Ew! Why the fuck would you put that in the fucking oven?!” His brow furrows so comically she tries her hardest to stifle her laughter. God, she hopes the kid gets her brains.

GOD he's so dumb for this loll. That's actually a really cute way to tell hubby you have a bun in the oven. 🥹 I wonder how Benny's gonna take the news that he's gonna be a big bro. 💕

And I love the Grinch line at the end, paralleling right back to Rehab. These two have gone through one hell of a journey together, but thanks for giving us this beautiful happy ending to their story, my friend!

Lover – Part 3

Series Summary: Free from his past, Ben’s trying to move on and find a little drop of happiness in this new world. But when he finally holds everything he ever wanted in his hands, it threatens to slip through the cracks, and he has to fight one final time with everything he’s got to keep it.

🫡 Catch up here! Sequel to Rehab & Video Games.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female!Reader

Warnings: 18+ due to language & mature themes, established relationship, Soldier Boy x wife!reader, human!Soldier Boy, the fluffiest of fluff, the smuttiest of smut (watch out for the breeding kink lol) 😉

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day to you all, loves! 💕 Thank you so much for all your wonderful comments over the last few days. I've seen and appreciate them all and will catch up with you guys over the weekend 🥰 For now, excuse this poor mama, 'cause she is fucking beat 😂

Enjoy the happy end 🩵

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Part 3: Lovestruck

Three fucking days he had waited in front of that goddamn door.

He slept in front of that door, ate in front of that door, and he silently panicked in front of that door. He hated that fucking door, had raging murder fantasies about it, but he never, ever opened said fucking door, no matter how much his fingers were twitching. Mostly because every time his hand did wrap around the knob, she’d yell at him to ‘stay the fuck out.’

Ben only unwillingly complied.

But when the quiet came and all other noises stopped, he finally dared to set a foot inside. The bedroom looked normal, even if disarrayed – but the bathroom surely needed a fucking remodel.

All that remained of their bathtub was a solidified puddle of acrylic. There was also a hole in the floor – burned right through the tiles. He’d wondered why it’d been so cold in there till he'd noticed the giant hole in the wall too that gave a perfect view of their backyard. But he found Y/N resting and curled up on the cool, white tiles – alive.

His heart might have fucking soared higher than an eagle.

When Ben asked her how she felt, she only replied with “Like I fucking survived D-Day.”

At that, Ben had snorted and said, “At least one of us did.”

And when they were both sure the worst was over and she wouldn’t turn the car into bubbling liquid as well, Ben finally drove her to a hospital. She was still weak, mostly from not eating a thing in four days. The doctors thought she must’ve had a severe case of the flu, gave her an IV drip with plenty of nutrients, and then released her after a few tests.

She’s been exhausted since then, drifting in and out of dreamland as he holds her in his embrace. She begins to stir again, and soon enough, she glances tiredly up at him through her eyelashes and gives him a lazy smile when she realizes he’s still here, exactly where he was hours ago when she last woke up.

“How late is it?” she asks and stretches a little in his arms but only ends up snuggling closer to him.

“Close to three,” he replies, and judging by the darkness outside their bedroom window, she guesses he doesn’t mean in the afternoon. “How are you feeling?”

Y/N almost breaks a smile. She can’t remember if he had ever asked this much about her well-being before. Her little brush with death might have shaken his steeled core more than she’d initially figured, and her heart swells slightly at the thought.

Sometimes, she still thinks he only keeps her around because he doesn’t know any better. It’s like getting an abused dog from the shelter – you never know if they really love you or if they only tolerate you because you’re nice enough to feed them.

He’s a creature of habit, after all.

But the affection and genuine worry gleaming in his pine green eyes tells her he might see more in her than that – whatever the hell that is.

“Better.” She nods, letting her fingers trace patterns around the golden freckles on his chest. Much better, she thinks as she feels the familiar heat pool between her legs. She bites down on her lower lip and presses herself closer to his perfectly toned and muscular body. It’s been too long since she’s worshipped every fucking glorious inch of him. “I think the fried chicken and noodles helped,” she adds with a small grin.

He chuckles – but not at her words. He can feel how she’s rubbing her thighs together now to get a little friction.

“Oh, I’m sure the burger, fries, sushi, and tacos helped, too,” he teases her. He came this close to entering her in one of those eating competitions as he watched her empty take-out container after container.

“Don’t forget the churros.” She giggles, and on cue, she rolls fully on top of him and straddles his waist, spreading featherlight kisses along the paths her fingers trailed.

“Not surprising. I already know how much you can stuff in that fucking mouth, doll.” Ben’s wide smirk is full of pride, and it causes her to giggle.

To make his point even clearer, his massive hands smooth down her sides and grip the globes of her ass, grinding her core against his proudly standing member. She mewls into the crook of his neck when she feels how fucking hard he is already. He lets out a grunt that carries the same desperate need to be inside of her as two of his thick fingers delve into her tight channel without much of a warning.

“Fucking drenched,” he mutters appreciatively as she arches her back with another moan on top of him. His free hand winds itself in her hair, giving it a slight tug that parts her lips with a pleasurable hiss as he drags her closer to his face. His amusement doesn’t fade, though, nor do his fingers in her pussy as he works her into a frenzy. “Sure you’re ready enough for the big guns, baby girl?”

She giggles breathily at his relentless teasing. “I’m literally about to come any second now,” she replies, soon followed by a harsh bite of her lip when his calloused thumb finds her clit. “Fuck…”

“Oh, I don’t think you fucking are.” Ben smirks and withdraws his fingers from her heat in the same breath. He laughs a little when she falls against his chest with a whimper of real loss.

Her hand finds his length between their burning bodies and wraps around it, already dragging his tip through her dripping folds. But Ben only entertains her plans for a second before snatching her wrist and pulling her away from him.

She whines this time and looks up at him. “Dear God, what do you want?” A laugh rumbles through his chest at the exasperation on her face. “I’ll do anything you want, anywhere you want. Just tell me. What’s Soldier Boy’s deepest, darkest fantasy, huh?”

Ben knows she’s teasing him, and a smile of amusement twitches on his lips, but a part of him actually seriously considers her question.

“What?” Her brow knits curiously as she observes the contemplative purse of his pillowy lips. “It’s okay. You can tell me,” she assures him and grins cheekily. “How fucking dirty is it?”

Ben swipes his tongue over his teeth and subtly swallows the lump in the back of his throat. He doesn’t reply instantly, however, pulling her ear to his lips as he whispers his little wish.

When he’s done, she blinks at him in surprise (and a hint of amusement). She certainly hasn’t expected that, but she places a loving kiss on his lips. The asshole can be charmingly sweet once in a blue moon.

“You sure about that?” she checks, but her tone is more than a little teasing. “There’s a lot of kinks to pick from.”

“Why does your generation always have to label fucking everything? It’s fucking sex. That’s it.” He huffs a bit too defensively, and she tries her best to muzzle her laugh. “What’s fucking wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” she assures him, giggling, and tries to soothe the furious lines of offense on his brow with little kisses. “It’s just surprising. It’s usually what super-old, married couples do.”

“Well, there you go,” he retorts. “I’m super fucking old and married. You’re gonna keep fucking chit-chatting or are you gonna do it now?”

“Fine, I’ll make love to you,” she relents with a smirk as she voices his little secret out loud.

“Jesus fuck!” He throws his head back into the pillow with a theatric eye roll.

His patience has run out. He grabs her fast and rough and flips them both over in a blink of an eye, her back landing in the plush mattress with a bubble of giggles. His weight presses down on her and deliciously threatens to squeeze the air from her lungs.

“Let me show you how it’s fucking done, my love,” Ben says with a cocky smile and begins to ravage a path of destruction down her throat. She’s sure she’ll be more colorful than a rainbow in the morning.

His teeth nib on her skin, hands pawing at the only clothing item that still covers her body from him, soon tearing the shirt over her head. His mouth stops attacking her clavicle then, green eyes focusing on her tits with a rising smirk.

“There’s my girls. Daddy’s home…”

Before she can even reply with a laugh at his comment, his mouth is swallowing her left tit, tongue roughly swirling over her nipple till it peaks against his wet muscle. She moans and arches off the mattress when his other hand massages, palms, and squeezes her other breast with the same fervent hunger.

Her hands find purchase on his strong upper arms, bicep flexing underneath her pads. His mouth devoutly licks lower and lower down her belly. She can feel his smirk rise against her skin the further he travels before his tongue dives straight into her folds.

“Fuck!” Her hips instantly buck forward, everything below her belly button clenching at the welcome intrusion.

And God, that man is skilled when it comes to sex. If he takes nothing else in his life seriously, this is his goddamn Olympics. He always gives it his all, just aiming for that gold medal over and over again.

It’s why she honestly forgives him for most of the shit he does or says, and she’s pretty sure he knows it, too.

His arms wrap around her thighs and pull her even closer against his sinful mouth. Her ankles cross behind his head, calves resting on those broad shoulders that seem to be made just for that purpose. Her toes tease his scalp, scratch the back of his head that cause little groans of his against her center that sound both submissive and primal, as if it's the most natural thing to give his everything to her.

His nose deliciously rubs her clit, and then the bastard fucking inhales and sucks the air right out of her when his lips seal around her bundle of nerves. She cries out his name, her cunt clenching with aching emptiness.

“Don’t worry. I know what you need,” Ben hums against her mound and shoves two thick fingers into her wet channel. “So fucking tight. You think you can take three? It’s been a while. Gotta get you into shape again…”

Fucking Olympics.

His digits then pump her so purposefully, mouth sucking her so religiously, she soon soars so fucking high she can see fucking Cupid himself. Her head falls back into the clouds when that fucking arrow hits, and she falls apart under his binding spell.

She thinks she might have passed out there for a second or two. When she steals a glance south, he still works her zealously through her glorious high as her pussy grips his fingers so tight she’s baffled they don’t break.

If she still had been a supe, they would’ve have.

And my God, she knows Ben’s never wasteful, not with his drugs nor with her arousal, but the way his tongue cleans her and licks his own fingers reaches a new level of obscenity she hasn’t witnessed before.

He acts like he’s been fucking parched for decades, and her juices are the elixir of life.

Then, when there's not a drop left to drink, and only then, does he decide to resurface with the laziest and proudest fucking smirk she’s ever seen. He leans so close to her face their foreheads touch, and she can smell her own scent in his glistening beard before he makes her taste herself, too.

“You’re still the same shithead.” She smirks breathlessly, her tits heaving as she breaks from the kiss. His chuckles fill her soul. She cards her fingers through his beard and brushes the hair back that falls into his mesmerizingly green eyes. “You’re gonna make love to me now?”

A smile widens on his plump and swollen lips, even at the hint of teasing in her voice, but he doesn’t respond with words, only nods and claims her lips in a blazing kiss. He angles his hips between her thighs then and spreads her legs further apart as they secure around his middle.

His lips leave hers and force her eyes open, staring straight into his. There’s an abundance of devotion and love in the lush greens that fill her heart. He makes her fucking feel it – every goddamn thing she is to him.

She feels his love when their fingers interlace and he pins them above her head. She feels his dedication with every thick, long inch he pushes inside of her. And she feels his fucking loyalty with each deliberate stroke.

He doesn’t rush, even keeps the dirty talk to a minimum. This is just for her.

It’s his fucking Olympics.

But most of all, she sees their vows shimmering in his eyes and knows he’ll never fucking break them.

“I love you,” she moans breathily into his ear, wounding herself tighter around him. She’s fucking close, ready for that next arrow with his name on it to pierce right through her heart.

He smirks a little in response, like he’s been waiting to hear it first. “Trust me. I fucking love you more,” he says, voice husky and thick with love. He emphasizes his promise with a snap of his hips, driving his cock right against her cervix. “Gonna pump a full fucking load deep into that little pussy till you’re fucking knocked up with a whole litter.”

Fucking shit. That should not turn her on as much as it does, but it’s hard to goddamn deny it when she comes right then and there as soon as he’s finished that filthy sentence.

“That’s it. Fucking milk my cock,” Ben rasps into her ear and feels his balls tighten when her pussy quakes around his shaft. “Like a fucking faucet,” he murmurs appreciatively and sucks marks into her neck. He’s missed making her his work of art, too.

When he spills his seed into her, hot and raw, he ensures their eye contact never breaks. He wants her to see what she’s fucking doing to him, how he falls apart just for her, too.

Two months later…

“What the fuck is taking you so long?” Ben stretches his neck and tries to peer into the kitchen. He begrudgingly eyes the green, glittery party hat on the dining table in front of him. “‘M not putting the fucking hat on, by the way.”

“Dude, you think it’s fucking easy lighting 108 candles on a fucking cake?” she retorts from the kitchen with a bit of bite before she strolls out with a sort of wonky buttercream cake, but the smile on her face is even brighter than the million candles.

“There’s no fucking way you put 108 candles on there,” Ben scoffs and grumpily crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back with a creak in his chair.

He’s been a bit of a party pooper all day. It also didn’t help when their son pointed that out at breakfast.

However, Ben probably shouldn’t have replied with: “Yeah, you would be too if your wife said no to blow.”

And yup, you bet your ass he woke her up bright and early in the morning, requesting she’d lick the snow off his dick. He’d termed it a super blow job and was rather disappointed when she'd declined.

“No, but I managed to get 53 on there, so it’s an A for effort,” she replies patiently. God, she needs so much fucking patience every day, but especially today.

“What fucking hippie school did you go to, huh?” Ben huffs and only encounters an annoyed frown when he looks at her.

“Blow out your fucking candles and make your wish, caveman,” she orders him dryly.

With a pissy eye roll, he does, puffing the life out of each little flame. “Are we fucking done with this now?”

Just then, the oven timer goes off, and Y/N straightens in the seat across from him.

“Uh, almost,” she says. “Got something in the oven. Can you check?”

“It’s my fucking birthday. How about you check yourself?” he retorts like a fucking princess.

“Ben, c’mon, I just spent six hours in the kitchen, baking you that cake,” she argues.

“Surprising it took six hours for this fucking thing,” Ben mutters, and she’s about to goddamn choke him.

Patience is a virtue, patience is a virtue…

“Baby, please, my feet hurt really bad.” She pouts, and he finally gets up with a deep sigh. She smiles wickedly.

“The oven isn’t even fucking on!” Ben yells soon from the kitchen. “And there’s nothing fucking inside!”

“Are you sure?” she acts as best as she can. “I thought I put something on the baking sheet.”

She listens to the clattering metal before a beat of silence follows. She’s sure his brows are densely knit in confusion (and frustration) at this point.

“What the fuck is this? Why would you put a fucking plastic stick in there?” The question finishes when he returns to the dining room, a small, white stick still in hand. He then holds it to his nose. “Why the fuck does it smell like piss?”

“Because I fucking peed on it,” she responds but sees he’s still not fully catching on.

“Ew! Why the fuck would you put that in the fucking oven?!” His brow furrows so comically she tries her hardest to stifle her laughter.

God, she hopes the kid gets her brains.

“Why is there a fucking smiley on it?”

“Because you’re supposed to be fucking happy, you moron,” she says.

“Why would I be fucking happy over a piss stick? Not exactly the fucking Rolex I wanted, is it?”

“Ben.”

His green eyes narrow at her and then blink. “Wait…”

“Yup.”

“Are you–“

“Yup.”

The stick in his hand drops to the floor before he scoops her up into his arms so fast she feels slightly dizzy from the motion. Happily, her legs wrap around his waist and arms lock behind his neck. She kisses him deeply, and he kisses her back with the same passionate devotion.

He squeezes his eyes shut a little tighter, forcing the tears to stay in, but she can still see the remnants of them when she draws back from his lips.

“I’m pregnant,” she says in case he still needed the verbal confirmation.

“Best fucking birthday ever,” he replies, swallowing the fucking lump in his dry throat.

She grins mischievously. “Told you it would be a good one, but no super blow jobs for a while.”

He snorts a chuckle. “Got it. I’ll take the regular ones, too.”

Ben once used to hate everything, his heart, much like the Grinch’s, a few sizes too small for anything else. But now, there’s barely enough space in his chest to contain it all. These days, he certainly considers himself a lover of all things life has to fucking offer.

The End 💕

Didn't I fucking say I would fix it?! Well, there ya go! Sid and Nancy got a happy end 🌅❣️

Do you guys think Ben wished for a baby or a fucking Rolex when he blew out those candles? 😂

(@zepskies 💜 – Not sure you remember this, but you sent me this ask for Dirty Drabbles about a year ago lol: What if Ben's girlfriend/wife/partner agrees to help fulfill one of his dirty fantasies. She's fully prepared for it to be insane (a la Ben), but what he requests is actually something surprisingly sweet (in its own way lol) And I immediately had this for this miniseries in mind! It fit those two perfectly!! 🥰🫶)

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TAGS:

Forevers: @alwaystiredandconfused @lyarr24 @supernotnatural2005 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

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@thebiggerbear @star-yawnznn @thej2report @misatxox @spnaquakindgdom

@americanvenom13 @lamentationsofalonelypotato

Soldier Boy: @deans-baby-momma @snowayumi

Rehab Series: @nancymcl @sparkydonugh

[euniexenoblade]

since we're talking about call outs lately, i've been called out many times, most of which are made from lies and sometimes by altering screenshots, but the most effective call out i ever got was like, in early 2015 there was a tumblr user everyone knew was a terf, but she would say "actually i support trans women" this was before crypto terfs were as talked about so the language wasn't really there to say "hey this person is a crypto terf." but yeah some people put posts of this woman on my dash and i made a random post on my blog "why do yall reblog her shes a terf" and of course she searches her own name daily, found my post, and replied to it that me calling her a terf was racist. that was it. no other interaction. but she went on all night talking about me being racist and just making things up as she went "oh i bet she says the n word all the time irl" kind of shit that had, like no basis? But her follower base took it 100% and i literally had thousands of anons telling me to kill myself, trying to goad me into being racist (didnt work), and the most concerning thing was i got hundreds of anons being like "what was the point of doing hrt if you still look like that, you should kill yourself." It was like, violent and overwhelming. and on top of it I'd get random young teenager trans people who followed her and bought into her bioessentialism showing up in my messages being like "you give trans people a bad name" "you're why transphobia exists" etc etc it was fucking crazy.

but i lost like, no followers because everyone around me understood, this woman was a terf. this all set up the real one though.

later in the year a teenage "communist" trans girl made some snarky comment about me being racist on a post of mine blowing up. i ignored her cuz like, who cares it's just some random teenager. but i guess people were looking for a reason to hate me cuz that blew up, lots of people just took that at face value no need to investigate. when someone finally did send the girl an ask being like "hey how is she racist" she replied "I dont remember but I know she is" and even more people just took this as 100%. the thing is, i do remember her being one of those "you make trans people look bad" terf following young trans people, it's not that she didn't remember, it's that she didnt want to admit she followed a terf and she believed a terf just saying shit. I lost like 3/4s of my followers, i had a lot of people i thought were my friends just stop talking to me, and going forward every time i got a call out there would usually be a line of like "also she's racist, everyone already knows this" all cuz this girl needed to make a snarky comment cuz she just loves terfs.

the thing about the "i dont remember" bit is it made some weird game of telephone. "I dont remember" became "oh she's racist, i think she says the n word" which became "she called black bloggers the n word" like people just made shit up about me and connected it to this call out. and when id be like this isnt true id be met with a "this is just known, youre a known racist" and it's like, to this day i will still find people be like "hey good on you for growing as a person and not doing that any more" and its like I NEVER DID IT TO BEGIN WITH

[finniestoncrane]

Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3

Different Up Here

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly

If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.

"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"

Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.

"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."

A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.

"Heh, that's a new one for out here."

Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"

"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."

"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."

You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.

That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.

Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.

"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"

Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.

"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."

You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.

"No, no no no no no. Just..."

The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.

"... fooling around... y'know?"

Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.

"Oh... oh darlin'."

He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.

"I don't think you're ready for that at all."

You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.

"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"

"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"

"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."

Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.

"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."

"Why? Sex is sex..."

You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.

"... Isn't it?"

"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."

The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.

"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."

His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.

"No, sir."

"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"

As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir."

You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.

You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.

And luckily, he seemed agreeable.

"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"

Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.

It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.

"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."

"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"

Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.

"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."

His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.

"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."

"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"

Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.

"Well, it's something like this."

He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.

Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.

Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.

"Well?"

"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."

"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"

He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.

"You like that? Like it rough?"

"I think... I think I like both."

"So, something like this?"

He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.

You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.

"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."

Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.

"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."

His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.

"Did they make you feel good?"

"No."

You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.

"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"

"A little..."

Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.

"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."

His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.

“And what about these pretty lips?”

Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.

“They touch these lips, huh?”

You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.

“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”

As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.

“Do it slowly though.”

Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.

“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”

You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.

“Turn around though. You face that way.”

The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.

“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”

A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.

The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.

It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.

“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”

His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.

“Don’t you dare, little lady.”

“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”

He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.

“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”

“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”

“I absolutely will not.”

Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.

Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.

“I am warning you, missy.”

“Cooper… I can’t stop…”

You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.

“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”

“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.

“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”

“Cooper…”

“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”

“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”

“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”

The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.

“Come on, darlin’, come on…”

Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.

As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.

“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”

You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.

“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”

As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.

“Alright then, get onto your knees.”

Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.

You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.

It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.

“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”

The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.

He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.

“Can I taste it… you?”

Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.

“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”

You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.

A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.

Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.

“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”

He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”

You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.

“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”

It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.

“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”

Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.

He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.

“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”

You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.

Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.

And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.

“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”

He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.

“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”

“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”

“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”

You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.

Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.

“Bigger than before?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.

“Better?”

“Mhm…”

“Speak up, darlin’.”

With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.

“Yes… it’s better.”

“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”

Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.

“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”

“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”

Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.

“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”

You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.

“Ah… Cooper…”

“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”

There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.

“A little…”

Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.

His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.

“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.

“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”

You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.

“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”

With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.

“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”

It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.

And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.

You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.

“Did I say you could get up?”

Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.

“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”

Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.

“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”

Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.

When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.

“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”

“M-more?”

More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.

“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”

[onmyyan]

hi again i'm the Anon who asked if you take commisions only or requests as well. I love your writing style<3

Soo could you write about Batmom reader, where reader took care of bruce's children as her own. But then bruce gets a mistress, reader still stays becuz of the kids but when everyone started to become cold to her and insult her ' X (mistress) is better mom then you ever were' she leaves gonthem. Then everyone realises she (mistress) was just after their money. They go to batmom's room to apologize only to find it empty. They try to find her everywhere but couldn't. And finally when they do, reader rejects them since she was having the time of her life without responsibilty but gets kiddnapped by the batfam?

Honestly i wanted to commision but i'm flat broke and i'm too busy studying to work and on top of that i don't have my own phone (i use my dad's old laptop) soo yeah... I hope you consider this.

A/N: Loooove this request thank you for sending it in <3 fem reader yandere themes lmk if you want a part two

The (L/n)'s were a wealthy and prominent family in Gotham, right up there with the Wayne's when it came to power over the city, the two families were in business together which is why when Bruce Wayne personal attorney came to you with a marriage proposal, you weren't surprised.

A marriage of convenience. You thought you knew what this would entitle, you knew this wasn't out of love, that this was required of you, it had nothing to do with what you actually wanted, but you were dutiful and signed, inking your name on the paper felt like a deal with the devil.

Bruce hadn't bothered to officially meet you until the day of the wedding, it was beautiful and well done but lacking any form of love of affection, CEOs and other rich folk you didn't recognize filled the pews, the ring felt cold when he slipped it on, his vows perfectly rehearsed, and not an ounce of warmth in his eyes, you knew that night you should have annulled the marriage, but something made you hold on, something your mother had said to you as the makeup artist turned you into the visage of a bride.

"You'll learn to love each other, your father and I did after all." And she wasn't lying, your parents married for convenience as well but had grown to love one another, so maybe you could do the same?

A year after the nuptials Dick Grayson is thrust into your life. Haley's circus was famous in Gotham for its incredible death defying shows, but on this night death would walk the stage, taking with them Dick Grayson's parents in a horrible display, You and Bruce had consoled the boy for only a moment before Bruce was talking to the officers, he'd decided Dick was coming home with you, of course without asking your opinion, but it didn't matter, you felt such pity and grief for the boy, it made perfect sense to you, he was shut down for the first few months, he called you by your name and you had no problem with it, making it clear you never wanted to try and replace his mother, the ice between you two melted one day, one kind word at a time, he couldn't help but confide in you about school or his friends, because you were more emotionally there than Bruce was.

Like the night you caught him sneaking out, a packed bag in hand and the keys to one of Bruce's many cars in his hand. Instead of yelling for Bruce or Alfred you simply smiled at him, "you should take the audi, it's the safest car here."

"..You're not going to try and stop me?"

You shake your head no, still offering that kind smile.

"You know yourself best Dick, if you're unhappy here I won't stop you from finding your peace." He took a moment before tossing you the keys and reluctantly making his way back inside.

You find out about Batman because of Dick. He'd come home with some nasty bruises and it wouldn't take long to put two and two together. Them both being missing at the same time, Dick started to pull away from you, one night, after hours of trying to get to sleep in a bed much to big for one body, your legs decided a walk was necessary, the halls were dark and quiet, giving the manor an eerie air, quietly you walked the long hallways intending on stopping by the library, as you turned the corner you seen Dick in a hidden elevator, the doors just slamming shut as your eyes tried to register what was there. Seconds after the doors close a wall appears, as if nothing was ever there. It's not long after that you see a brief news clip of the caped crusader and his new sidekick, because the longer you stared at the screen, the more familiar they began to look, that dead tight lipped scowl on Batman's face, it was one you'd had the pleasure of looking at for the past few years.

That night you confronted Bruce, he seemed surprised you'd figured it out, but he didn't deny it. Simply saying, "It's late (Y/n), get some sleep."

You nearly divorced him then and there for endangering a child the way he was, but after a moment of thought, you realized Dick would need a real parent around so you stayed, making Bruce swear to be careful.

Jason comes next and he takes to you a lot faster than Dick. He craved the warmth you offered, you two had inside jokes and a closer relationship than him and Bruce, but that all changes the day he dies. You're broken, a ghost haunting the manor with your presence, and Bruce is no comfort throwing himself into the Batman role, you begin to hate him a little with this particular betrayal.

Tim was another hard egg to crack but you were desperate after Jason's death, so you took his verbal lashings with a smile, were always there to offer a helping hand with any of his projects despite the help never being accepted. Tims wound from losing his father is too raw, he takes a lot of his anger out on you. And you weathered the storm with a soft, warm smile.

Damian hated you, from the moment he arrives, which is bitter enough as is because it meant Bruce was unfaithful, he's spitting out insults and comparing you to his 'perfect' mother.

Things weren't great in your life, but one day they started getting noticably worse. Dick no longer responded to your check in texts, Jason (now reanimated which was a heart attack in and of itself) saw you as the enemy, you didn't leave Bruce after what happened to him, so in his eyes you betrayed him, Tim ignored your existence as best as he could, and Damian? He'd started staring at you with this smug look on his face, like he knew something you didn't.

Bruce had all but ran from you, he didn't sleep in your shared room anymore, he barely spoke to you at breakfast, if it wasn't for the cameras he wouldn't touch you.

And it's all because of a woman named Rachel.

Apparently Bruce had introduced this woman to the family, bringing her around when you weren't, slowly replacing you, it was no wonder they started to pull back.

Alfred is the only reason you find out, having enough of the blatant disrespect, he calls you to come home early one day saying it's a dire matter. Of course you comply, and walk in on a discomforting sight. The whole family was gathered at the dining room table, plus a woman you'd never seen before, she sat close to Bruce, toying with his hand intimately. Her green eyes lock with yours and the smile she gives you forms a pit in your stomach.

There's silence before Bruce stands up, he walks over calmly, "Can we take this in the other room." But it wasn't phrased as a question.

"No" you licked your lips, a nervous habit from your youth. Bruce seemed taken back by your sudden backbone. He nods silently.

"I want her gone Bruce. I am your wife. You will show me that semblance of respect."

"I- of course." You don't wait for the words to settle instead, you calmly walk to your room, face unreadable.

Locking the door behind you, your body slides against the frame, a silent sob wracks your frame, your hands covering your mouth, you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing your cries.

The next morning you wake up to breakfast in bed, a generic yet elegant spread of food lay on a tray in the empty spot Bruce used to stay. The man himself sitting in the chair beside the bed, staring at you with that practiced smile he used to appease people.

"Good morning."

"What's this?" You sat up straight, sleep evaporating from your form as you took in the threat before you.

"An apology. I never meant for yesterday to happen."

"What a comfort that is." Your piercing (e/c) eyes stare at him blankly, unreadable. "How long."

"A year." You scoff pushing the breakfast away from you like it was poisonous. "But its not what you think, Rachel is a childhood friend, a year ago our relationship, evolved into what it is now, but I was never intending to go behind your back."

"Ah of course, your intentions were pure." The words dripped venom, grabbing your robe you quickly dress before standing and walking to the door, "Thank you for the wonderful talk Bruce, really your people skills are top notch." Your hands gesture to the door. He leaves without a word.

The rest of the day is as usual, Bruce avoids you like the plague, the rest of the family acted as if you weren't there. Which made leaving all too easy.

Your lawyers had the divorce papers ready and hour after you called them, signing them felt like the first act of self love you'd done in years. Slipping them into Bruce's study you took the time to analyze the room you never entered.

It matched Bruce that's for sure, pictures of every single person in the family. All except for you.

Walking out the door, wrapped in your ankle length black faux fur coat, the garment whipped in the wind, the designer sunglasses on your face hid your eyes from the world, hair in a slicked back bun, your heels echoed against the pavement, a sleek black car was waiting for you, you look back at the house that had caused you so much misery then got in the back of the car, never looking back.

Life goes on for about a week, your absence goes unnoticed, that is before Rachel is trying and failing to blackmail Bruce out of a billion dollars, she'd collected evidence he was cheating on you with her and presented it to Bruce with a grin, it was only as he went through the pictures of himself and Rachel, did he notice the yellow envelope with his name written on the front.

Hey puts the heartbreaking matter of Rachel's betrayal on the back burner, Bruce opened the envelope and felt his heart completely stop at the word divorce written in bold lettering across the top, your signature was already there, waiting for his to join it.

Ignoring Rachel completely now he turns in his chair, turning the paper over and over as if it would magically change. But it remained the same. Alfred knocking on the door of his study broke him from his trance. "Master Wayne, miss Rachel." He says the latter's name with no warmth. "Escort Rachel to her car Alfred."

"Bruce have you heard a word I've said? I'm serious I'll go to Gotham daily right now if you don't -"

"Now Alfred."

That was all it took for the screaming woman to be firmly escorted off the premises. Bruce all but ran to your room, he didn't bother knocking, and despite knowing in his heart you were already gone, he couldn't help but check anyway.

Your room was empty and cold, he couldn't believe the date he'd read on the divorce papers, it was dated a week ago, meaning you'd been gone for a week and he hadn't noticed. No one had.

That is until Bruce remembers there's someone in the house nothing gets by.

"How long have you known she was gone Alfred?" He asks leaning on his knuckles the divorce papers stared back at him taunting him. "Since the moment she left." The older man replied simply his hands behind his back. "Why didn't you tell me immediately?" Bruce felt himself tense, "Because you've hurt that woman enough Bruce. She deserves at least this." He gestures to the daunting divorce paperwork before turning to leave Bruce with his thoughts.

The news of Rachel's betrayal shook the manor each member feeling violated by their trust being broken. But it was nothing compared to their reaction once they finally realized you were gone.

"That was rough." Jason says after watching Rachel being dragged out of the manor, he blew air out of his cheeks arms crossed over his chest, he looked towards the hallway that lead to your room, you had to have heard that he thought to himself.

Dick sighs through his nose, "Someone should check on (y/n), Rachel was screaming so loud she definitely heard that." No one volunteers so Dick rolls his eyes and heads towards your room.

He lifts his hands to knock but noticed the door was open, pushing it further he's met with a baren room, his brow furrowed in confusion before he makes his way to Bruce's study. "Hey B, have you seen (y/n)? Her room is like weirdly empty."

Dick found his Father where Alfred left him, leaning over the divorce papers silently a storm in his eyes.

As he steps closer and reads the paperwork Bruce was staring so intently at, his heart stopped.

"Holy shit- are those real?"

"Yes." Bruce finally spoke his voice horse. There was a moment of silence before Dick left the room practically running down the stairs to alert the others.

"(Y/n) left Bruce." He said still processing the information, "No fuckin' way." Jason says pushing himself off the counter he leaned on. "Her room is empty and he has the papers, she's gone."

Each member of the family had different reactions to this information.

Dick tries calling you only to be met with a disconnected number, his heart hammering in his chest, he wasn't as close to you as when he was younger sure, but you were a constant in his life, always had been, a pillar of support, and suddenly you weren't. It felt like the floor had gotten pulled out from under him.

Jason curses under his breath, his mind working a mile a minute, he had barely spoken to you since his Resurrection, something he deeply regretted as the information of your leaving sinks in like a brick thrown into a river.

Tim, ever calculating is trying to figure out where you went, you were a figurehead in his life, someone that was literally never not there, sure he wasn't close to you in the slightest but that doesn't mean he wants anything to happen to you, someone as quiet and soft as you on your own in Gotham? It didn't sit well with him. Not one bit.

Damian didn't know what he was feeling at the news, he supposed he should feel nothing, after all you were nothing to him, but there was this nagging feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite place. And he hated it. How dare you leave and upset his fragile ecosystem?

Meanwhile in the Bahamas, far from Gotham and the neglectful family you'd left behind, you sat lounging on a private beach, a knitted hammock cradles your body, a designer baby pink bikini covers you, a matching sunhat protects your face from the hot sun, you can't wipe the smile from your face, humming a tune from your childhood you barely flinch when someone takes the seat besides your hammock.

"Do I want to know how you found me?" You ask, eyes still closed as you bask in the warmth. You knew only one person had the sources to find you on your own island, and despite how much you resent the man, even his presence can't ruin your shine in this moment.

"You're my wife (Y/n), I'll always know where you are." Bruce speaks softly as if trying not to startle you. "Former wife." You correct cracking an eye open, a small smirk curling on your lips.

"Not until I sign those papers- which I never will."

"huh, I thought you'd be thrilled." You muse to yourself before folding your tanning mirror and setting it aside, you take off your Louis Vuitton sunglasses, blinking your pretty (e/c) eyes up at him, "Figured you and your little Twinkie would have tied the knot by now." You laugh softly, the sound, unfamiliar to Bruce, sent warm shivers down his spine, it causes his lips to quirk up in a small grin.

"She's gone."

"Well, I don't care."

There's a beat of silence before he's offering you his hand. "Will you walk with me? I know I don't deserve it."

You sigh before getting up, ignoring his hand, you nod your head reluctantly, "Well? Hurry up I've got dinner at six."

His smile remains as he begins leading you along the shoreline. It's relatively quiet between you two as you walk side by side, a peace between you both you hadn't ever felt. "The manor isn't the same without you." He breaks the silence, "I sincerely doubt that." You laugh at the very notion. "It's true- it's colder, quieter, I want you to come home."

"That was never my home, you made that abundantly clear."

He winces as if your words cut him, "I know I haven't been a good man to you, I know I've failed you time and time again but I..I looked at those divorce papers and my heart stopped." He admits running a hand through his hair.

"You can't leave me."

"I can't?." You scoff, your movement halting, "I'm a grown woman- I'm taking responsibility for my own happiness, you can't stop me."

"I wasn't asking." He says softly, his hands in his pockets, he had this fond look on his face, like he was staring at you for the first time, in a whole new light. "You can't make me." You say, brows furrowed, "You belong back home, you're supposed to be with me, till death do us part, remember?" He steps forward making you step back, your eyes wide, hands shaking, you back into a wide chest, spinning to face Dick, who's grinning at you, he's in his Nightwing costume, he gives you a small wave of his hand, you scrunch your face in confusion, "What the hell-" your thought is cut off by a small pinch in your neck, the needle in Bruce's hand is empty in seconds, he's cradling your stumbling form, holding you tightly, "Don't worry - I'll fix this."

Your sleeping body is gently carried to the batplane, Bruce holding you close to his chest as Dick pilots the plane, he whispers promises into your hair, rocking you against him as he swears on his life to make things right, weather you liked it or not.

[celestialgalaxyglow]

Batfam and Danny, Part 9

At the Justice League Watchtower.

Diana: Good morning everyone and thank you for coming to this pronto meeting. I known we all have busy schedules so I'll make this quick. Bruce, Clark, and I have been investigating an operation by Lex Luthor. He has been moving round large amounts of radioactive material to a secret lab in the Sahara Desert, we currently do not know what he is planning but last night the radioactivity around the base spiked. We believe that there was some leak of the radioactive materials and we need a plan to contain it.

J'ohn: Are there any civilians in the region?

Clark: No, the lab is far out into the desert. The closest town is a small village with a population of about 1000 people an hour and a half away.

Hal: I could but up a temporary shield around the lab and try to contain the radiation as much as possible.

Bruce: That would be a good start.

Arthur: This is concerning, how can I help?

Diana: There is another shipment currently on a Lexcorp boat heading towards a port in Algiers we need you to stop it.

Bruce: Oliver, you will help Arthur take control of the ship.

Oliver: Got it.

Diana: Barry, while we believe the town and its residents will be safe, we'd like to keep you on stand by just in case.

Barry: Yes ma'am!

Diana: That's all from us. Now that we are together we should start making a solid plan, we start this operation 10pm, local time in Algeria. That gives us 8 hours to prepare. Any questions?

Oliver: Just one question, who's Bruce's new kid?

Everyone turned to look at Danny.

Danny: Hi!

Bruce: This is Danny, alias Phantom, he's Jason's kid... and my grandson.

Barry (laughing): Congratulations Bruce, you're a thirty-four-year-old grandfather.

Arthur: Is he helping us with the operation?

Diana: Yes, Danny is half-ghost and immune to radiation, he'll be helpful if the radiation levels are higher than we expect.

J'onn: You have a quite mind young one.

Danny: If I let you read my thoughts there's a fifty-fifty chance your brain may get scrambled.

J'onn: I see...

Billy: I'm here! Sorry I'm late, just had to finish something before I could leave- Billy looked around the room till he saw Danny. He jumped back and covered his ears.

Clark: You ok there Billy?

Billy: Who is that kid?

Danny: I'm Bruce's grandson.

Billy: ...

Clark: Why?

J'ohn: The gods in Billy's mind all just screamed bloody murder and told him that under no circumstances, should he make Danny mad.

Everyone looked at Danny but before anyone could ask question Constantine walked in.

Constantine: You known if you're going to call a random meeting at least give us more than 3 hours to get ready- Constantine froze when he saw Danny. Shit...

Danny (grinning): Constantine!

Bruce: You two know each other?

Danny: Yes, he's the fool that sold his sold his soul to a hundred separate demons who are all now petition me to decide who actually owns his soul.

Constantine: ...

Hal: Why would they petition you?

Danny: I'm their king.

JL: What!?

Danny: And another thing Constantine, come over here. A green light encircled Constantine throwing him across the room, placing down in a chair next to Danny. You didn't pay your taxes for the last tax season.

Constantine: I- your majesty, I'm not a citizen of the Infinite Realms.

Danny: Actually you are! Danny summoned a scroll. According to section 8, subsection 45, clause B of the Infinite Realms Citizenship and Nationality Status Governing Deaths, Resurrections, and All Other Avoidances of Death Act, also known as the IRCNSGDRAOADA, due to your soul being more than 80% owned by citizens of the Infinite Realms, you too are a citizen of the Infinite Realms, and thus have to pay taxes.

Constantine: I-

Danny: You owe the Crown, aka me, $25,000.

Constantine (nervous): Would your majesty be so kind as to wave my taxes for this year, given I did not know I had to pay?

Danny: I'll give you... 120 days to come up with the money, if not I'll send the tax collectors after you.

Constantine (terrified): You- you're too kind your majesty. Constantine picked up a folder from the table. I'll just read the report... I- got to go. Constantine left the room.

Bruce (tired): Danny...

Danny: I was joking, I'll wave the his missing taxes.

Hal: Why is he so scared of tax collectors?

Danny: The tax collectors in the Infinite Realms are not just nerds with suitcases, they are nerds with suitcases that also carry paintball guns.

J'onn: Paintball guns?

Danny: The paint will never come off till you pay your taxes.

Berry: That sounds so fun!

Arthur: I'm happy to have another king on the team. Finally I have some to talk to about the duties of ruling.

Danny: Tell me about it, for some reason, people can't just do as their told.

Arthur (crying): You understand me my pain.

Clark: Where does your family find these children?

Bruce: We don't find them, they find us!

Diana: As fun as this whole conversation is we do need to prepare for the mission. Let's get to work.

JL: Yes ma'am!

(Master Post)

[lina-lovebug]

I'd Fight The Devil

Alastor x fem! reader

Background: (Y/N) is the elder Morningstar, and wants to fix her relationship with her dad. But her dad hates her boyfriend.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 - Finale

Allusions to sex, actual sex, angel being angel, and cannibalism

_____

Angel spit out his drink, "You're with Alastor?!"

"Yeah, thoughts?"

"And prayers, girl," Angel could never imagine a sweet girl like (Y/N) getting it on with the Radio Demon himself.

But everyone has their kinks, he supposed.

Alastor manifested behind her, and she immediately felt his presence. Pressing herself against him, he leaned into her warmth and kept his arms around her shoulders.

"How was your day, mon amour?"

"It'll be even better," She trailed off, turning around to face him, "when we meet my dad for dinner."

Silence.

And not even radio silence.

"Not to be rash, but I'm sure your father would sooner see my head on a pike than on my body," Alastor adored the fact that she was mending their bond, even more so when Lucifer makes the effort.

But announcing their relationship to him?

He could see it ending in flames.

"I know you two don't get along, but I thought a nice dinner might smooth things over."

"And if he disapproves of us?" He lifted her head upwards with his finger, bemused as to what her answer may be.

"Then he'll have to get used to it," (Y/N) replied, sending a shiver of excitement up his spine.

Only a feeling that the she-devil he was utterly obsessed with could provide.

"Ugh, can you guys go fuck somewhere else?" Angel said, "or at all? I can't imagine going a lifetime without dick."

Alastors eye twitch, "now that's our business, isn't it?"

"Okay, okay," Charlie spoke up, "you guys go get ready."

Charlie couldn't help but notice the change in Alastor. It had only been a few months, but being in her sisters presence alone has made him kind. Sure, the both of them would skin someone alive over an insult, but Alastor would rip out his own eyes if (Y/N) asked.

A perfect match.

(Y/N) dawned a black dress with a pearl necklace that Alastor bought for her. Well, she thinks he bought it but he actually stole it off of a fresh kill.

How sweet.

"Pumpkin! Oh look at you! You're as radiant as ever!" Lucifer fawned over his daughter as they made it to the restaurant, making it a point to ignore the red demon behind her.

"Catching strays?" Lucifer gestured to him.

"Lovely to see you again," Alastor retorted.

"Dad, why don't we go inside? And Alastor will be joining us," now, Lucifer didn't forget what he said. He recognized that the fearsome deer demon had the intention of claiming Princess (Y/N) as his own, but did his daughter return such feelings?

Honestly, Lucifer feared that.

Not it being Alastor persay, but his little girls being hurt.

He knew how awful it felt to go through the divorce with Lilith, and then her disappearance.

He didn't ever want his daughters to feel that way.

"So, Alastor, what do you do again?"

"I have a radio broadcast. Your daughter has actually helped me repair the studio after the attack," He laid his land on hers.

And Lucifer picked up Alastors hand.

And placed it away from hers.

"Uh, dad-"

"Look, if you two are fucking, don't tell me."

"Dad!" Her face burned red, "we aren't-that's not. . .I love Alastor, and he loves me. I want you to accept us both."

"Love? Whoa, whoa, whoa! Pumpkin, I don't think-"

"I'm not a little kid," She interrupted, "I'm a grown woman, and I'm able to make my own decisions. I want to be with Alastor because I love him. You may not think I know what love is, but I know it's what I feel with Alastor."

That's when he saw it.

That look.

Whilst (Y/N) was defending herself, defending their love, Alastor looked at her. Only her. And it was like he was staring at the nebula itself, seeing all its beauty in the Heir of Hell. His smile faltered, closing his mouth, and his eyes softened.

It's the same look that he used to give Lilith.

"If I ever hear that you've made her cry, or even laid a single hand upon her," Lucifer stared him down, "I'll make you disappear."

"A man true to his word. Looks like we have something in common," Alastor agreed, his hand back on hers. She gave him a smile, one that reminded him of Lilith.

The rest of dinner went off without any incidents. The small jab here and there, but no one died, and no one was stabbed. Lucifer learned more about his daughters business and how she lit up talking about it.

"You hardly ate, Alastor. Is something wrong?" (Y/N) asked when her father went to the restroom.

"Oh no, my dear. Just hungry for something else, is all," His eyes raked up her form, earning a cough from the she-devil.

Honestly, she didn't know where he was on his spectrum. She was fine never even being intimate, so long as he was happy, but this spark in his eyes lit a fire within her.

"O-oh. . .are you sure?" Believe it or not, (Y/N) had only had sex twice and both times she'd call it lackluster.

"I don't want you to force yourself if you don't want to," oh how innocent she was. Honestly, Alastor assumed he was aroace before he met the she-devil. Her ferocity - her chaos in fights, her genuine kindness, and her soul - itself brought out that spark.

There are moments where the carnal desire needs to be satisfied.

"Mon cher, I'd never ask if I didn't mean it."

That look, it made her softly gasp.

"Alast-"

"Ew."

Right.

Lucifer.

He showed up from his restroom break and found the pair giving eachother "fuck me" eyes.

"Could I eat my dinner without you groping my child?" Lucifer hissed, despite Alastor only touching her hand.

He blinked, thinking how he's never even groped a woman.

"Maybe."

Sick bastard.

_ _ _ ☆ _ _ _

"Fuck! Alastor!"

(Y/N) had never cum before, so Alastor being her first to ever do so and smiling away at her quivering legs made it so much better.

"Oh fuck. . ." She moaned weakly, his tongue slithering in and out of her to lick up every last drop.

"Al. . ." She was breathless, staring at his strained member. Reaching up to unzip his pants, he tutted as he grabbed her wrist.

"Al?"

"It's about you. Don't worry about me, amour," He purred, kissing the bite marks on her thighs.

"But you-"

Before she could detest further, wishing to satisfy him, the door opened.

"Oh my God, they were right! Alastor, you sly dog," Angel Dust was at the door, and Alastor quickly covered his beloveds' body with the covers before his horns started to grow and his back stretched.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Not before you make love to me, you're not," still in his demonic form, (Y/N) blew a gust of wind to slam the door shut.

Her body displayed on the bed, Alastor agreed.

"And stay in that form. It suits you."

[talaok]

What's a fanfiction?

"You wrote it, I think it's only right you get to experience it, babydoll"

Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: By mistake, you send Joel, your neighbor, your dad’s best friend, a fanfic you wrote, and when you go to his house to talk to him about it, your worst fear comes to life… and then your biggest dream.

Warnings: age-gap, he blackmails you (but youre very much into it) smut| oral sex (m receiving), facefucking, 1 lil threat of anal, p in v sex, creampie, sir kink, small little breeding kink moment, so much degradation, and a lil bit of praising.

a/n: i am aware this is not written very well, but i was thinking too much and then i remembered that at the end of the day i do this for fun and its not that serious, so please overlook all the shitty parts. love ya very much<3

Read.

Read-

He read it. He fucking read it and you're gonna jump off a cliff and die.

You swore- you fucking swore you sent it to Miley yesterday night. Right before you went to sleep, you finished writing it and sent to her- except obviously, that wasn't what had fucking happened.

You'd sent it to him

And now you needed to find a fucking solution.

__ __ __

God even knocking felt like torture,

"oh hi y/n" Sarah's smile was nothing like her dad's, it was all kindness and sweetness, while Joel's... well Joel's always had something strange lurking behind his.

"Hi Sarah" you forced your lips to mimic hers, although the nerves were making it difficult "Is your dad home? I kinda need to talk to him"

"mh-mh" she nodded, gesturing for you to come in "he's in his study upstairs"

You stepped into the house just as she crouched down to pick up a gym bag

"You know where that is right?" she asked "I'm late for practice, I gotta go"

You felt your heart drop as her words sank in.

She was going out- she would be leaving you alone with him, in his house, in his study-

But then again, considering what it was you were here to talk about, maybe it was for the best.

"Yeah, don't worry" you forced another smile

"great" she beamed "see you later then"

And just like that, she was out of the house, and you were sole in the middle of your neighbor's entrance.

__ __ __

Again, another knock that felt very much like a punch to the gut

"come in"

His voice was warm and strong like it always was, that same voice that made your panties dampen just at the thought of it.

"H-hey Mr. Miller" you swallowed thickly, pushing open the door as if an army of zombies waited on the other side

"Darlin'" he nodded at you from behind his wooden desk, a hint of a grin shadowing his lips

Darlin'

Darlin'

God this fucking man

"h-hey" you said again, cursing internally while you tried remembering why you were even there.

Oh, right. Just about the most awkward thing ever.

A soft chuckle rumbled from his chest, making the hair at the nape of your neck stand.

"Whatcha doing here, doll?"

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, and then you felt your eyes fall to the floor as your hands fiddled with the edge of your skirt.

The skirt you purposely wore to come here- for him-

god what a stupid fucking-

"Thatta real pretty skirt you got on"

Your eyes snapped up to him, but he took his time glancing away from your legs.

"Oh- I- thank you" you murmured

"Jus' call 'em like I see 'em, darlin'" he shrugged, leaning back into his chair "Now's that all you came here for? To show me your new pretty skirt?"

"n-no" you rushed in to say, perhaps too quickly to be fully believable "I came here because I- uhm" You bit your bottom lip, the nervous fiddling starting back up again

"I ain't gonna bite babydoll"

Fuck- at this rate your panties would start melting.

"last night-" you gulped "I kinda- I... well I sent you something by mistake"

"ah" he hummed, raising his brows as he clicked on something on the laptop next to him "I gotta say, issa real... interesting story this one"

No-

NO

Fuck my life and everything ever in the existence of the universe fuckfuckfuck-

"who's..." he trailed off, reading off his screen "Javier?"

Your lungs had turned to stone and your mind to dust.

This couldn't be really happening, no, I mean, even if he'd read it for some reason he surely wouldn't be... taunting you for it.

"Mr. Miller-"

"real lucky guy" he said, his lips twitching into a soft smirk as he looked at you curiously "You brought him home to meet your daddy yet?"

"n-no" you stuttered, your mind a big ashamed mess and your whole body frozen like a statue "n-no he's not... real"

You watched his brows come together in confusion.

"what's that mean he ain't real?"

A shaky sigh fled your lips as you surrendered to your fate

"He's a character... f-from a tv show"

He remained silent, and as comfortable with silence as you were it was a different kind of story when Joel Miller was staring at you... so you talked again.

"T-that's a fanfiction, I- I write them sometimes, it's... fun"

His eyes searched yours for answers, faint amusement sparking in the back of his irises.

"what's a fanfiction, doll?"

Death wasn't such a scary thing after all- yeah it sure as hell was a better alternative to this.

"It's a... made-up story, that people- that I- sometimes write about fictional characters I like- a-and then I post it for p-people to read"

"And this Javier..."

"Narcos" you blurted out "H-he's from the show Narcos, he's not real"

His mouth twitched into a subtle smile, his eyes raking all over your body as if he was checking to see if it was really you in front of him

"I've seen that show" he said, his brow raising "Ain't he a bit old for you, babydoll?"

"Y-yes well- I-I-"

But you had no excuse for that, you could never tell him the truth, about how much you liked older men... about all the celebrity crushes double your age- so you just bit your lip, looking down at the floor.

The noise of his chair creaking as he got up made your heart skip a beat, but it stopped completely only when you heard him step closer to you... until he was right before you.

The only thing you could see were the socks covering his feet, and part of his black jeans- you didn't have it in you to actually look at him, to see him laughing at you, but you had no other choice when two of his fingers pulled your chin up.

"so you sit in your room, imagining this old man doin' all this stuff to you, and then you write it down?" he spoke, his beautiful mouth so very close to you "And here I was thinkin' you were a good little girl"

Your breath caught in your throat at those words, and he... yeah he definitely noticed.

"Please don't tell my dad"

"well I don't know" he moved some hair from your face, "I think this is somethin' your daddy ought to know"

a well of fear dipped into your belly, your eyes widening

"n-no please" you begged "Please Mr. Miller don't, I'll do anything- anything at all"

"oh sweetie" he cooed, "that ain't somethin' you can tell a man, especially not after he's read all the dirty things you fantasize about in your pretty little head"

"Mr Miller-" you bit your lip

"Mr Miller?" he repeated, looking down at you like you were the smallest little creature in the world "That ain't what you were calling Javi now, was it?"

A small, almost imperceptible gasp left your mouth.

He couldn't be saying... no right?- except...

"Joel-"

"that ain't it either" he shook his head, his thumb tracing the shape of your lower lip "you know what it is babygirl"

Either you were gonna make a fool of yourself, or this really was what he wanted.

"S-sir"

The slightest, most feline smirk pulled at his lips in satisfaction "thatta girl" he murmured "you don't want your dad to know what a dirty lil' girl his daughter really is?"

His breath was fanning on your mouth, and his touch was making your legs turn to jelly.

"n-no" you shook your head almost imperceptibly

"no?" he asked again, just to see you squirm, just to savor this moment for a little bit more.

"no sir"

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat, his eyes looking into yours, memorizing every inch of your face, of the anxiety, the ardor, the plead in your expression.

"then get on your knees"

Your eyes widened in shock, the air going up your throat suddenly getting stuck

"w-wha-"

"what?" he asked, not even sounding like himself anymore. His tone was sweet, calm even, but something almost dire lurked underneath his words.

"you seemed eager to do it when Javi asked" he tilted his head, his fingers still holding your chin.

If you didn't know better you would have guessed it was jealousy that traced his tone whenever he spoke the name of your fantasies's protagonist... little did he know the main reason why you even liked Javier was his resemblance to him- to Joel.

"Mr- sir" you stuttered "I-"

"I don't like to repeat myself y/n" he spoke sternly, his eyes boring into yours "Do you want your daddy to know or not?"

You didn't need to answer, you only held his stare as he let your face go, and you slowly, unsurely, and awkwardly got to your knees.

"wasn't so hard now was it?" he asked, his eyes dark enough to fade into the night sky "what are you waiting for?"

"I-"

"You need instructions babydoll?" he chuckled "'cause I ain't gonna give 'em to ya" he said while your heart pounded in your chest "I know you know how to do it" he smirked "Described it so well in your little fanfiction"

"b-but I-" you tried to take a deep breath but doing anything while he towered over you, while his crotch was right in your line of sight was proving to be very very difficult "I've only ever done this once" you gulped, trying to keep eye contact

"yeah?" he smiled, his hand going to the top of your head, gently patting it...that really shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did. "then how come you knew exactly what to do with Javi? don't tell me you just guessed"

He either didn't believe you, or was really not expecting that. But it was the truth- you'd only ever done anything once... and it's not like it had even felt that great.

"Well, I- I do research... and I- I read a lot"

If you thought he looked predatorial before... you had no idea how bad it could really get.

"research huh?" he mocked, his voice as deep as it could get "Oh baby you're digging yourself a hole here" he tsked, shaking his head while looking almost disappointed "I really think your daddy ought to know about all the research his lil' girl's doing under his roof"

"No!" you begged, your bottom lip trembling.

"No?" he asked, tracing it with his thumb "Then I suggest you make it good, babygirl"

And that was that.

Your trembling hands undid his belt, then lowered his zipper, and finally pulled his pants down until they pooled at his feet.

Fuck

He was huge- even with the boxers still on it was very clear the man was just massive-

"I don't like to be teased y/n"

"s-sorry sir" you responded automatically, noticing his cock twitch within the confines of the fabric in appreciation of your obedience.

You had to do it slowly, you had to pull his boxers down slowly so you could have time to calm down, to not panic in front of the huge cock that was gonna be right in front of you at any moment-

And yet it didn't work- a soft gasp fled your mouth as you freed his manhood.

He only chuckled, watching the fear in your eyes, and quite frankly, very much enjoying it.

"I'll tell ya if you're doing it wrong" he simply spoke, his hand going to the back of your head to guide you closer to where he wanted you.

He was getting impatient. And you didn't want to disappoint him.

Yes, he was blackmailing you, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been dreaming of this for years.

You looked like a frightened kid as you wrapped your right hand around him, and you looked even more out of place as you opened your mouth and started fitting his length inside of it.

A weak grunt rumbled from his chest "Hollow your cheeks" he ordered, having you obey in a heartbeat.

"fuck that's good" he groaned now, watching you intently as you started bobbing your head, trying to fit more of him into your mouth "Good little slut"

You didn't know a moan was gonna flee your mouth until it had- until your whole face felt hot and you waited terrified for Joel's reaction.

Exect he was smiling- no- grinning like you'd just given him the best gift he'd ever received.

"Oh, you're really something else ain't ya, darlin'?"

"mhp" Your muffled noises were all the more entertaining to him, especially paired up with the sight of your thighs rubbing together.

You were so fucking wet you feared at any moment you would start dripping onto the floor.

"so needy" he murmured, his hand now gathering your hair in a makeshift bun "You wanna touch yourself, baby girl? wanna feel good while you make me feel good?"

"mh-mh" you tried to nod, to beg, to say yes please for the love of god let me.

"that's too bad" he tutted, sounding like he was holding back a laugh "Javi didn't let you do that now, did he?" he smirked "You wrote it, I think it's only right you get to experience it, babydoll"

But before you had time to ask yourself if he meant all of it, he'd spoken again.

"that all you can take?" he asked, watching the first half of his cock in your mouth with amusement "Here- how 'bout I help you out darlin'" he smirked, his hips retracting just to thrust into your mouth-

It wasn't a hard jab, but still you choked, and then you choked some more as he did it again, watching you fit more of him into your mouth as saliva drooled to your chin and your eyes watered.

You could feel the texture of every inch of his dick with your tongue, the feel of his veins, and the taste of his precum were all you were aware of.

"like that- see, jus' needed a lil' help" he groaned "Even a slut like you needs it sometimes"

His pace had quickened, and tears were now streaming down your face.

"shh" he shushed you once you choked yet another time "I know it's big baby" he cooed, his thrust much less gentle than his words, although that was all an act too "I know, I know... but you're gonna have to be a good whore for me and take it aaall into that slutty little throat, ok?" he murmured "just try to breathe through your nose"

What did he mean try?

What if you tried and failed?

But you weren't actually worried- you had never thought being horny could actually be painful, and yet, there you were, literally so wet and turned on it hurt.

You couldn't even see him anymore through all the tears covering your eyes, and you didn't even realize you were actively choking and making a complete mess of yourself, all you could feel was his big fat cock, and dream about how it would feel inside of you.

"God fuckin-" He groaned like an animal as he finally bottomed out, his dick making a permanent dent into your throat at this point "Jesus Christ"

He stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, watching you struggle, and then, just like that, he was out- and you could breathe again.

He didn't even give you time to catch your breath, to finish coughing like a maniac that he'd already given you another order.

"get up," he said "take off your clothes"

He really did want to recreate the fic- you were- you were about to have sex with Joel Miller, THE Joel Miller, your neighbor and dad's best friend Joel Miller.

oh fuck

"What did I say about repeating myself?"

You scrambled to your feet, pulling your shirt off at the same time.

You heard him snort but didn't pay it any mind as you took your bra and skirt off as quickly as you could.

You really were desperate.

But when it came to your panties you slowed, everything suddenly feeling very real.

"what are you waiting for?"

"s-sorry sir" you mumbled, finally dropping them at your feet.

A soft groaned fuck climbed up his throat as he examined every inch of your body.

You would be covering yourself, feeling a little self-conscious, if it wasn't for the fact that his gaze had turned you to stone.

"pick your panties up" he said as if getting out of a trance.

You frowned, confused, but obeyed nonetheless.

Maybe he didn't like the mess...

"Put 'em in the first drawer," he said, nodding back to his desk.

Oh

He followed your every move as you walked past him, but it was only when you were at his desk, that he started stalking towards you.

He was right beside you now, and somewhere along the way he'd lost his shirt, because your back was now pressed against his chest, and your ass was right against something else.

"I'm keepin' those" he murmured, his deep voice right next to your ear, his hands going to grip your waist.

You dropped the panties where he asked and nodded, turning to him, finding his face, his mouth, but an inch from your own.

"Yes sir"

His cock twitched again right against your backside as his mouth ghosted yours.

"Bend over"

You swallowed thickly, doing as he said.

You shivered feeling the table's cold wood meet your skin, but you got hot all over again once you felt Joel's words.

"Spread your legs"

You did.

"What an obedient slut I've turned you into" he grinned, proud of himself

"Where do you want it?"

You felt his cock slide between your cheeks, making you whimper and arch your back.

"here?" he slid it in between your legs, connecting with your clit.

You moaned as you shook your head no

"here?" he asked again, this time his dick prodding at your asshole.

You gasped as you mumbled "N-no sir- please"

"You want in your throat again babydoll, 's that it?" he teased you, his tip still leaving smears of his precum on your hole

"mh-mh" you shook your head no again "Please"

"no?" he snickered, "Then where?"

"Here?" he asked, the tip of his dick finally getting exactly where you wanted him "in your slutty lil' pussy?"

"yes- p-please sir- I-"

"say it" he taunted you, almost slipping in.

"I- I need it"

"what do you need?"

"Y-Your cock sir" you begged

"Where do you need my cock?"

"I-I need it in my pussy" you cried- he was so close if he would just- "I need your cock in my pussy sir, please I- I'm begging you-"

"good little slut"

He pushed in with one singular, hard thrust, making you cry out so loud the whole neighborhood probably heard.

He was so big it kind of burned at first, but as he thrust in again and you heard him groan in pleasure, there was no going back- you were in complete bliss... and your brain had turned to mush.

You were moaning- loudly.

"fuck-" he grunted "you're such a whore darlin'"

The sound of how wet you were as he plunged into your heat was filthy.

"Y'know- I usually give women an orgasm before I fuck 'em," he said as his balls slapped rhythmically against your skin "but you're just a whore- and whores don't deserve to be treated with respect, do ya?" Your back arched, feeding him more of yourself as your walls squeezed around him "Nah, you deserve to be used. Used like the little sluts that you are" he kept grunting, not paying any mind to how loud you were being, or how the desk had started to slip because of how hard his thrusts were "And it ain't like you need it, is it darlin'?" he chuckled, suddenly pulling you up, his right arm around your torso keeping you pinned against him "you're makin' a mess" he murmured into your ear, shivers running up your spine "and besides, this' how you wanted it- wrote it jus' like this in your lil' story didn't ya, ya little slut?"

He bit your earlobe just as his dick hit your cervix, making your brain short-circuit.

It was all so hot- so fucking hot.

"I can't imagine what your daddy would say" his mouth was on your neck now, but his pace was the same as ever, as hard and unapologetic as it could get "knowing what nasty things his little girl likes to think- to write" he chuckled "bet the poor guy would have the fuckin' big one if he knew"

"if he knew how you like to be fucked by men 30 years older than you" he groaned, feeling you squeeze him as you whimpered his name incoherently "if he knew how tight you get when I tell you how much of a slut you are"

Your eyes were rolled back, and your head had dropped against his chest

"please"

"If he knew how good you fuckin' take my cock" he murmured right against your mouth, your legs trembling "How desperate you are for it"

He was going even faster, and he was now supporting your whole body because your legs weren't working anymore.

"If he knew what a fuckin' whore he raised" he grunted, plunging his cock as deep as it could go, molding your body to him "how she's my whore now"

And that was it- that was it.

You felt actual tears stream down your cheeks as bliss took over your body- as you cried and moaned and trembled until you were done, until you'd finally recovered.

"I'm gonna come inside babygirl" It wasn't a question, it was an order, just like every one he'd given you for the past hour "Jus' like Javi" he grunted, his thrusts more erratic now "except this is real life baby- and you better hope it doesn't stick" he smirked, feeling your walls squeeze involuntarily at his words "God you're such a slut"

"Now take it all like a good one"

You couldn't help but join his moaning as he came, as he filled you up to the very brim.

You were a mess- cum was already running down your thighs as he slipped out of you, but you still followed his lead and started dressing again- only your panties were in his drawer and the walk back home would be a real awkward one.

"You post these stories?"

There was no point in lying, you'd already confessed to it.

"I- yes" you swallowed, putting your bra on "o-on Tumblr"

You could very well see he'd never heard of the app

"How are you called on there?"

He'd stepped closer to you, watching you fiddle with your shirt in your hands.

His belt was unbuckled, his jeans still open, and you were starting to feel ready for round two already.

"S-sir you want t-to-”

"I gotta know what other things your daddy can't know about” he murmured, moving a piece of hair from your face “and all the things I’m gonna do to my lil’ slut”

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

59 / 3.4k / part 3 of shark mermen Gaz and Soap with human!reader <3

kinktober keywords: dubcon, monster mermen, monsterfucking, teratophilia, overt predator/prey dynamics, hypnosis/hypnokink, praise

...

"You gonna behave?"

You bite your lip and keep your arms tightly wound around your upper half. "I thought I was."

The movement catches Gaz's eyes. They darken. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

He reaches out, catching your bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. He pulls it gently lower and lets it snap back into place, and your lip stings with saltwater. "That."

You squirm in his hold.

Gaz keeps his grip, but lets you keep moving. His gaze drops again to your lips and keeps getting lower until it's obvious that he's staring at your neck. Even if he weren't a predator sensitive to the quick heartbeat and rushing blood of startled prey, he'd see the nerves all over you. He draws closer.

"You're so small," he murmurs.

You press back, but it does no good.

"And weak," Gaz continues. The clawtip of his index finger presses into the damp flesh of your stomach. "I could crack you open like the shell of a clam. Can I touch you?"

Before you can answer, Soap's hands wander up your legs again. You tense. Gaz's tail tightens under you in response.

"Bit late to ask if you can touch her," Soap says in their mer-tongue.

Gaz ignores him. "Stay still," he murmurs, his tail tightening. Not quite enough to crush anything, but enough to restrict more of your movement. "I won't hurt you."

As Soap makes a grab at one of your wrists, the coldness of your skin and the quickness of your pulse sends a small thrill down his spine.

You try to still your movements and steady your breath. It seems like the more you squirm and protest, the more it snags their interest. You're pretty sure by now they're not going to eat you, but their interest in you has taken an unmistakably carnal tilt.

"See?" Gaz says. "You can be good." He drags his claw lightly over your belly again, and you feel all the muscles of your midsection tense. If it weren't for him squeezing you so firmly, you'd almost be lifted out of the water.

"Good," he murmurs again.

"What do you want to see? I already showed you my legs."

"Everything else."

It's a blunt, straightforward answer. The way Gaz says it seems almost disinterested—matter-of-fact—but his gaze is fixed intently on your belly. He wants to see every inch of you, the softness and the curves and the hollow spots and the sharp dips.

Soap's hands find your waist, and he pulls you closer in in a way that forces you to arch your back, bough toward him, and spread your legs wider over Gaz's tail.

You steal a glance down at the glass-sharp rocky sand and the cold waves rising in. "Here?"

They don't bother to answer. Gaz shifts your hips up his tail, contorting you further. Soap stares openly down at your tits through your wet shirt as he drags his massive hands down your thighs and back up in an exploratory motion.

Gaz's scales push up against the crotch of your shorts. Your brain skips. This can't be happening right now and you can't be feeling kind of hot under the collar about it. No, nah, nope.

You plant your hands against Soap's shoulders and push him back. "I said not here! Take me somewhere nice." No, that's not quite right. "Somewhere private."

nsfw ⬇

Gaz digs his fingers into your hips and pushes you further up his tail. The movement grinds you into him like he's starting to feel you get warm and wet.

"Yeah?" Soap purrs, letting you push him away. There's no way you could throw him off unless he lets you, but he does. "Where d'you want us to take you, little human?"

"Somewhere soft and dry."

The two merman trade looks with one another. Gaz tilts his head down at you and narrows his dark eyes. "I know a place."

You swallow. "You do?"

"Mmhm." His tail shifts beneath you. "Have you ever seen a merman's bed?"

"No..."

Gaz’s tone drops to something just above a murmur. "It's carved out of sloping reef rock and lined with the softest, sun-warmed sand. Perfect to lie in."

Despite his attempt to soothe you, Soap's claws catching the hem of your torn shirt make you even more tense. You grab his hand and push it down. A muscle in your jaw jumps with irritation.

Soap stops pushing, but there's a look in his eye that you don't like at all. He knows he's bigger and stronger than you. All he has to do is pull back a little too hard, and he could easily yank you off Gaz's tail and into his own arms instead. He can make you do whatever he wants, and he knows it.

It makes you all the more aware of the strength of his body between your knees. He could pin you down so easily—he could crush you with the sheer size of him—and you'd never be able to do anything about it.

Before either of you makes a move, Gaz growls at Soap in their mer language. Soap's eyes snap up to Gaz's. His face tightens. His hands loosen and slide slowly out from under your shirt.

You watch it happen with an unsteady glare. But now they're watching each other rather than you. It only holds for a moment before Soap pulls his gaze away. He looks almost bored as he lets his hands drift back to your thighs.

"Fine," he murmurs. But the look in his eyes still leaves you with the uneasy feeling that he isn't entirely done with you.

Fine is the only word of it you understand, but you still feel the agitation in their tone and the subtle shifts of muscles in Gaz's back and shoulders against your chest. Still, he seems fine with Soap's hands on you as long as he's not agitating you further.

You look down at Gaz's claws. His grip on you stays tight. He isn't rough, exactly, but his hands are big and his touch is insistent and slightly possessive. His hands drift lazily over your hips, up your ribs, across the tops of your thighs. It feels like he's keeping track of every inch of you he's already felt.

You squeeze your legs together stubbornly when he gets close to your inner thighs.

His grip is like iron. You feel the muscles of his tail working beneath you as he shifts to get you just right again.

"Let me in," he murmurs.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"And why not?" His hands wander up and down the seam of your legs.

You get the impression that he can smell you getting wet when you when you're squished up close against him like this. Does he think you're putting out crazy pheromones or something? A twinge of shame makes you look away. "Because we're mismatched."

"Mismatched?" He snorts and pulls you forward so you're leaning further back and against his chest. It exposes your neck to him and his eyes darken. "Your kind has a real obsession with categorizing everything, don't you? We can be matched just fine."

"But we're not, like, physically... you know... it would be weird. It's like having sex with an animal."

"I don't think humans are animals," Gaz murmurs. He draws his claws over the outside of your thigh--not causing pain or leaving marks, but stimulating the nerves under your skin with small jolts. "Besides in the literal sense. But then we both are."

You say nothing. His fingertips brush up the backs of your knees, and a shiver of awareness travels all the way down your spine to your toes. His voice is low and soft as he speaks to Soap in their language again. He rubs his thumb in tiny circles on the back of your knee.

If you knew what he was saying, you'd realise that he's telling Soap that you're nervous.

"It would be weird," you say again.

Soap scoffs. "You keep saying that word. Weirrrd," he repeats in a voice edged with disdain and mimicking your accent. "Why does it matter? There's no one else here."

Gaz tilts his head down in an attempt to catch your eye. "You're not even a little bit curious? You humans are always so desperate to know why and how things work. You used to poke and prod us. You're usually curious about stuff like this." His voice drops lower. "About new experiences. What if I told you that this could feel good?"

"It's still wrong." Even as you say it, you're starting to wonder. You're already pretty sure they won't hurt you. They would have already if they didn't care, right? But you can't bear to think about how disgusted people would be if they knew you were seriously considering this.

"You think it's wrong?" Gaz’s voice takes on an edge. "Humans have a lot of strange rules that don't make any sense. Do you really think we're that different?"

"Yeah."

His gaze drops to your lips. "That's what you humans get so wrong. You think everything means something. Rubbish. Sometimes things can just feel good. And this" --he strokes the sensitive skin of your ankle-- "could feel so good. If you let me in, you'll be warm and safe. That’s what you want, yeah? To be looked after?"

"I don't... I don't know."

Gaz hums and rubs your ankle. Your skin is softer than the salt-smoothed calluses of his hands, and your leg is so small. He feels like he would barely have to squeeze to break it in two. "It's okay not to know, you know," he says. "You've been through a lot. Can I tell you more about us?" he asks, voice low and soft. "About our kind?"

His voice seems to soothe your ragged nerves. "I guess so."

"Good human." He leans very close, his mouth against the shell of your ear. His hands tighten on your thighs again. You’re at his fingertips. You’ll be his in no time. "We're not so different. We hunt and we play. We fight and we... enjoy things." He traces his claw along the line of your legs again. "We can feel things other creatures can't. Sounds too quiet for other prey, smells under water, under the salt. We like the smell of other creatures. What do humans like to smell?"

"Um... flowers, I guess. And food. Baked goods."

He huffs a laugh. "What a waste of your senses." He slides his claw along the outside of your calf. "You humans like things to be clean, huh? Nice warm water and soap. So many rules and little rituals with your cleaning."

"Yeah, so?"

"But then you spend half of your time dirtying each other again. Fighting and rutting and making messes. Humans are strange. Your rules get in the way of your senses."

"We need rules to protect ourselves."

"You need rules to limit yourself," Gaz says. "No wonder you act so fragile. If you'd let yourself enjoy things, everything wouldn't seem so dangerous."

Soap watches you steadily. He can smell the way you're reacting as Gaz's voice washes over you and the way you melt slightly every time he touches you.

You huff. "That's easy for you to say."

"Humans keep themselves vulnerable. No claws, no callouses," Gaz says as he runs his free hand over your upper arm. Your skin is so smooth, he can feel the tiny hairs standing up as his hand passes over them. You really are like a seal—all big eyes and soft give everywhere and no bite to you whatsoever. Except your words, maybe. " How do you defend yourself like this? How do you hunt?"

You don't reply.

His hand finds its way into your hair, claws tracing lines over your scalp. "Do you know what it is to hunt by yourself? Taking charge when something catches your interest. Taking things that you want."

"Not really."

"It's thrilling."

"To be stronger and faster?"

"More than that. Feeling another creature's pulse beneath your teeth, hearing the crunch of bone as it gives way. Knowing you've caught your prey." Gaz strokes the hair back from your ear. His voice and fingers send pleasurable tingles down your spine. He pulls you closer to himself as he speaks so you can fully feel his large frame cradled around yours. “We don't have many possessions," he says. "We like having something that's ours."

"Oh."

"And humans are small," he murmurs. "So soft and small." He rubs circles into your scalp, and you feel his voice as much as you hear it. "So warm and pliable. Easy to hold and keep."

You catch Soap grin and realize you've been staring at him.

"See somethin' you like, hen?"

You flush and look away.

Gaz shifts to comfort you. "Don't look away," he murmurs. His big hand comes up and catches your jaw to make you look up at Soap again. "Watch his eyes. Listen to my voice."

You blink at Soap. Your mind feels sluggish. But Soap is nice to look at. And Gaz is nice to listen to. His voice is low and soothing. His hands drift. The fingertips of one hand trace your collarbone and the other strokes the softness of your throat. Your eyelids are a little heavy.

Gaz watches you for a moment before leaning very close. "Good," he whispers, and Soap's eyes darken. "Easy to hold. Just like I said."

You feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest. His voice soothes you so completely that the old legends about sirens enticing humans with their hypnotic voices surfaces briefly in your mind. Then it disappears.

His hand continues, and the soft, slow touches lull you further. Your stress ebbs away grain by grain. It’s replaced by anticipation. He rubs the soft skin of your cheek with the pad of his thumb, and you feel the calluses on his hands.

"That's a good human." He keeps using that low voice to praise you. Soft warmth and anticipation curl low in your belly. "Just keep looking." He slides a hand down your spine and across your lower back. Your muscles and your mind unwind slowly like a fraying rope. "You remember when I was telling you about a merman's bed, yeah?"

"Mm."

"That's good. Now pay attention. I want you to hear what I say. They're comfortable," he murmurs. "Warm and soft, all lined with sand that's been warmed in the sun. Perfect to lay in. To writhe in. To sink into." As if to show you, his hands slide under your wet shirt and press against the small of your back. He rubs the warm softness of your skin, and goosebumps rise where his hands pass over. "Imagine it. Imagine sinking in. Sinking in. Sink with my voice."

Your eyelids droop even more. You're sleepy.

"You're doing so well." Gaz feels how relaxed you are—the tension out of your muscles and how your limbs feel like they're melting into his. "Sink with my voice," he repeats. "You don't need to struggle anymore. Everything's alright. You're safe with us. Just let yourself… drift."

A sweet, heavy, warm softness like sinking into a hot bath. Like sinking into the sand under his hands. He guides you into a light doze and continues stroking your back and murmuring praise, your body growing heavy and lax beneath his warm hands.

"Shh," Gaz says. You're sinking deep. He guides you down into a soft, warm haze full of quiet, soothing sounds. Even Soap is watching you with a soft, rapt interest, not wanting to ruin the moment. They're taking care of you right where you belong. Deep. Safe. Warm. Comforting.

"What do you see in that bed with you?" Gaz murmurs. "One merman? Two?"

"Hmm?"

"Can't think straight, can you? You're so relaxed." He moves so his hands slide around your waist again. He knows you can't escape this time, even if you wanted to. And you look so sweet and soft. He knows you're almost asleep, almost floating away from him. "I know. Keep listening. Can you tell me what you see yet?"

"Blankets."

"That sounds so nice, doesn't it?" Gaz murmurs. His hands shift again, one drifting all the way to the back of your neck. His voice is as quiet and warm and comforting as a blanket over you. "Just sink into my voice. Keep listening. What else is in that bed with you?"

"Stuffed animals."

Gaz laughs, but it's low and soothing. "Like a child has? That's cute. But it's not like you need them."

You huff, your hypnotic trance vaguely disrupted by his words. "You asked me."

"And I got my answer." Gaz's hand slides up your neck to rest on your jaw. He strokes your pulse point again. "You're getting a little too close to falling asleep. You need to stay awake for this."

Soap has drifted closer, his dark eyes watching you. He looks hungry, but Gaz doesn't push you towards him yet. Not while you're so out of it. "Fine, fine." He rubs your neck again, and you feel your muscles melt under the pressure. "What kind of stuffed animal?"

"Hmm..."

Gaz hums back, his voice deep and soothing. Your eyes are already so heavy, your body is so relaxed in his arms. Your breath is slow and steady, and your skin feels warmer to his touch. Gaz can smell the change in your scent, your body's response to him—to all of this.

"I'm curious now." His voice is low and dark against your sensitive ear. "If you're going to have stuffed animals in your bed, I want to know what kind."

"Octopus."

"An octopus?" He murmurs. "So you want something with so many arms to wrap around you? Something tight and big?" He's so close to your ear now that his lips brush it. "You want to be wrapped up and covered and surrounded?"

"Mm... maybe. Yeah."

Your voice is heavy with drowsiness. He keeps you skirting that line between consciousness and sleep. Your body in his arms is puppet-like.

"You want to be surrounded by so many arms. Maybe even pressed against us with no space to move, yeah?" He slides a hand down your stomach.

"Mmhmm."

"Mm. So you want to sink into a nice bed, surrounded by an octopus with its big, plush arms. Surrounded on all sides with soft, soft tentacles that cover you. You want something big and soft and heavy on top of you--resting between your legs and keeping you warm and safe." His hands slide around you again. "Would that make you feel safe and protected?"

You murmur an affirmation.

"And do you feel safe and protected here? Now?"

You murmur another one.

Something like a smile curves Gaz's mouth. It's sweet that you're answering without thinking. "Mm," he hums, and he slides both hands down your thighs. His claws trace little circles on your sensitive skin. "Very good. Hold onto that feeling as you come up, human." Gaz lifts his eyes to Soap's. "We're just curious. We won't hurt you. We just want to see what you feel like. Is that alright?"

"What I feel like?"

Soap looks down at you. You barely open your eyes. Barely even react, even though you can feel his claws grazing your thigh, even though his eyes are dark and his lips parted slightly. Your eyes are so heavy, your brain so slow.

"Mm," Gaz murmurs again, and his chin brushes your ear. "Your skin's soft. Soft and warm. We want to feel you." His hands slide up your chest again, your breath shuddering at their passing, and he holds you up so your back is against his chest but your legs are still spread over his tail. He smiles. You're so close to sleep, but he doesn't want you to miss this. "Shh. You'll see. You just need to let us touch you, okay?"

"Oh." You let your legs slide to the sides of Gaz's tail and into Soap's waiting palms. "Okay."

...

part 1 / part 2 / [part 3] / part 4 / part 5

more Gaz / more Soap / more mer au / masterlist

[fairytaleendingss]

Room for One More?

Chapter 9

Summary: Secrets are revealed on New Years Eve.

CW: Alcohol consumption, sexual references, mention of cigarettes, swearing, lots of drama.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

--

"YOU SLEPT WITH SIRIUS?!"

"Shh! Mary keep your voice down," you uttered, looking around to see how many of your coworker's heads had swivelled towards you in response to Mary's loud exclamation.

"Sorry," she grimaced. "I'm just.. I'm in shock."

You sighed and leaned back where you were perched on the corner of her desk. "I think I am a bit as well."

There was a pause.

"Well, was it good?"

"Mary! Oh my god!" you groaned and threw a hand over your face to hide your mortification.

"What? I'm just asking. I can't say that I haven't imagined it once or twice myself-"

You slapped her gently across the shoulder with the back of your hand. "You're distrubed. You know that?"

She smirked. "You know you love me."

You rolled your eyes affectionately at your friend. "Anyway, we'd been drinking and it was Christmas and we were having such a wonderful time. I think we just got swept up in it all and now I don't know what to do. Things have been kind of... weird between us."

"Well have you guys talked about it?" Mary inquired.

"That's the thing. Afterwards he just kind of moved on like it never happened. I don't know if he thinks it was a mistake or something but it's stressing me out."

"Hmm," a thoughtful look crossed Mary's face as she took everything in. "Well how are you feeling about it? Do you think it was a mistake?"

You bit the inside of your cheek. "No? I-I don't think so. I dont know."

A look of realisation washed over Mary's face. "Do you like him??"

"I mean, of course I like him. I'm just not sure I like like him."

Your friend sighed exasperatedly. "Oh my god! We're not in Primary School, just answer the damn question!"

"Fine! I guess the answer is... yes?" you sighed. "But whatever! Does it even make a difference? He's made it exceptionally clear that he doesn't feel the same way."

"Look," Mary huffed, her expression growing sincere. "Sirius is great. He's fun and friendly and a total flirt but he's also been known to be a little emotionally constipated. Just be honest with him. Talk to him about it. He's not going to be able to pick up on any signals you're trying to send him."

You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a breath throught your nose. "Ugh fine."

"Good girl," Mary smiled. "Now go away. I actually have some work to get done today."

"Oh fine. I suppose I know when I'm not wanted," you teased, getting up and walking back towards your desk.

"Love you!" Mary called lightheartedly as you walked away.

"Yeah, yeah," you joked in response.

As you arrived back at your desk and slumped down in your chair, prepared to get back to work, a head peaked down at you over the cubical.

"Oh, you're back, I see."

You jumped slightly at the unexpected voice and looked up to see its perpertrator.

"Yes, Glenn. Hi. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Glenn was a new employee in your office and he sat in the cubical opposite yours. He was only a few years older than you and he was tall and fit with short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. In the few weeks you'd known him for, he'd been particularly friendly towards you and recently you'd been getting the idea that he had taken a liking to you.

You weren't interested of course. He was an attractive guy but not really your type. And with everything going on with Sirius over the last week, you'd been making a effort to put some distance between you. You definitely weren't looking for anything of that nature right now and you didn't want to give him the wrong impression. However, Glenn was nothing if not persistant.

"Actually, I was just wondering if you had any plans for new years tonight? A few of my mates are throwing a party and you're welcome to join us if you're interested."

You sent him you're most empathetic smile. "That sounds lovely but unfortunately I already have some plans with my friends."

He sighed, flashing you a grin that looked suspiciously rehearsed. "Oh well. No problem. It was worth a shot. You have fun tonight."

"You too, Glenn."

As the man dissapeared back over the divider, you let out a heafty sigh. Tonight was surely going to be interesting.

--

The view was impeccable from the bar where your friends had gathered to spend New Years. In fact, seated beside a huge floor to ceiling window, you suspected you'd have a clear view of the New Years fireworks.

It was a classy joint, one that Dorcas had managed to get you access to through one of her fancy lawyer contacts.

Everyone was assembled on stools around a table, looking out over the London skyline. It was about four hours until midnight and the group was chatting excitedly in the lead up.

"I've got shots!" Mary called out and everyone cheered as she returned to the table with a tray.

She passed the drinks around and then took her seat beside you.

"Well, I suggest a toast!" James called out, grabbing the attention of the group. "To a wonderful year ahead, and many more memories with old, and new, friends!"

He emphasised the last line with a pointed look in your direction and you felt your cheeks growing hot.

"Cheers!" Marlene shouted enthusiastically and the others echoed her sentiments, clinking glasses and swallowing their drinks.

The burning of the liquor was welcomed as the drink ran down your throat. You'd been thinking a lot about what Mary had said to you in regards to your situation with Sirius. And as he sat beside you, laughing animatedly at one of Peter's stories, it only confirmed your worst fears. Maybe you were starting to develop feelings for your roommate. You grimaced at the thought. Things were bound to get messy in situations like this.

"So guys," Sybil piped up from across the table. "Let's all go around and say our New Years resolutions."

"Oh, I'll go first!" James volunteered. "I hope my team continues to play a great season annnddd... I want to work out more."

There was a collective groan.

"Come on, James. That's not a real one!" Mary complained.

Sirius chuckled, taking a pointed sip of his drink. "Yeah! You already work out like 7 times a day!"

"Ugh, okay fine!" James responded with groan. He thought for a moment. "How about this one. I'd like to fall in love this year."

You didn't miss the way his eyes flickered across the table towards Lily and you felt your heart sink. Lily seemed to take notice a well as she averted her eyes, taking a heafty gulp of the drink in her hand.

"Aww, James. Always the romantic, aren't you?" Marlene chuckled.

"Shut up." James rolled his eyes playfully. "Your turn then, Marls."

"Okay," She took a deep breath. "My goal this year is to become super rich and famous and sucessful."

"I second that!" Mary called across the table and you giggled as they clinked their glasses.

"Y/n. Your turn," Dorcas announced.

"Oh okay, um..." you thought for a moment, your gaze flashing to James and Remus across the table, then over to Sirius, who was watching you expectanly, a playlful glimmer in his stormy eyes.

You then looked back towards the rest of the group. "This year, I'd like to spend some more time with you lovely people."

A round of cooing echoed across the table and Mary threw her arms around you.

"Well aren't you just the sweetest!"

"Oh, and I'd like to work more on my novel," you added.

"Alright, alright. Sirius, you're up!" Marlene chimed.

The boy beside you pursed his lips, looking off into the distance as if deep in thought. Then, after a long moment, he turned back to all of you with a mischievous smirk on his lips.

"This year, I want to have lots of amazing sex!"

"Ew. Sirius, you're so foul," Lily exclaimed, followed by a symphany of similar sentiments from the other members of the group.

While everyone else was distracted, grumbling and groaning about Sirius' bluntness, the man leaned down towards you.

"You look great tonight, by the way." He whispered into your hair.

You gulped thickly, not quite sure what to do with yourself. You opted for downing the remainder of your Vodka, Lime and Soda.

--

As the evening drew on, you found yourself growing more anxious in Sirius' presence. You weren't quite sure what his game was, whether it was the alcohol or he was just feeling extra bold tonight, but he'd been suspiciously flirtatious.

You didn't know how to respond. Part of you wanted to let him. To let him woo you and go crawling back for more of what you'd had together on Christmas Night. However, the other, more logical part of you, told you that was a terrible idea. He was your roommate afterall. The last thing you wanted was to start some complicated friends-with-benefits situation with a guy you lived with, especially one that you had sort of, maybe, possibly had caught feelings for.

You downed another drink, feeling the alcohol grip you and hoped it would help to ease the nerves ever so slightly. You realised then, that you were staring.

Sirius had gone to the bar to order another round of drinks and you'd been watching with bated breath as he sent his signature smile to a girl wearing an explicitly tight black dress. You noticed the way she leaned forward, pressing her cleavage up against the bar as she spoke to him. God, could she be anymore obvious?

"Calm the hell down, y/n!" You thought to yourself. "It's not like you guys are together. He can flirt with whoever he wants."

"Hey, are you okay?" you raked your eyes away from the scene as a voice came from beside you.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine," You muttered absently, too distracted to notice that it was Remus who asked the question.

"Okay, never have I ever... made out with more than one person on the same night!" Mary's voice rang out and you forced your attention back to the group.

You weren't sure when this game had begun but you suspected it was suggested by one of the girls (likely Mary or Marlene) as a way to pass the final hour until midnight. You hadn't participated in this game since probably highschool, but you were all a few drinks in at this point so you figured, what the hell?

You watched as Marlene, James and Dorcas all took a sip. Then Lily sent Mary a pointed look.

"Come on, Mary. That's not how the game works. You have to say something you haven't done."

"I haven't!" Mary responded. Then she paused. "Oh wait, yeah I definitely have."

Everyone chuckled as she took a drink.

"Alright! Dorcas! Your turn." Mary nudged the girl in the side.

Dorcas rolled her eyes. "For the record, I just want to say, I think this game is stupid."

"Come on babe. Don't be a party pooper!" Marlene exclaimed, leaning in towards her girlfriend. "How else are we supposed to learn everyone's deepest darkest secrets."

Dorcas sighed and shook her head but there was a hint of a smile on her face. She really could never say no to Marlene.

"Ugh, fine. Never have I ever stolen something."

"Well that's a hard one," Mary muttered. "What do we count as stealing? Because I've stolen stuff from James a ton of times."

"Oi!" James shouted, looking positively affronted. Mary sent him an apologetic smile.

"No, not like that," Dorcas clarified. "It had to have been from an actual shop."

You all sat up straight for a moment, curiously looking around the group to see if anyone had. Hesitantly, Peter lifted his glass to his lips.

"Pete! What the hell!" James exclaimed.

"I don't know, I went through a phase in highschool!"

"What sort of stuff did you take?" Marlene pressed.

Peter shrugged. "Chocolate and ciggarettes, mostly."

There was an eruption of laughter that rippled across the table at Peter's revelation.

"Wow, I didn't know there was a degenerate among us," Lily teased, watching Peter's face flush bright red.

"Okay, okay. My turn!" Marlene said, once the laughter died down. "Never have I ever... gotten really sloshed and fallen down the stairs at my 18th birthday party"

"Hey! That's not fair!" James moaned, taking a sip of his beer. "You can't do targeted ones!"

Marlene just shrugged. "Sorry, but I don't think that was established in the rules."

James smirked. "Fine then! Never have I ever had sex with someone at this table."

Your blood ran cold for a moment as you glanced back towards the bar. You sighed in relief when you saw that Sirius was still over there. In that case, you technically hadn't slept with anyone at the table. You were off the hook for now.

Marlene rolled her eyes at James and took a drink, as well as Dorcas, Peter and Sybil, however, you watched James' eyes widen as Mary also took a long sip.

"Mary!" Lily hissed across the table. Your heart plummeted.

"What?" Mary shrugged, the alcohol clearly having gone to her head. "We have to! It's the rules."

"Wait! Hold on," Marlene murmered, her eyes drifting between the two girls. "Did you guys..."

There was a heavy anticipatory silence that hung over the table as you all awaited Lily's response. The girl grimaced, as she tried to muster some kind of explanation.

It was then that her eyes drifted up to meet James' pleading ones.

"Lily?" the boy asked softly. Your heart broke for him.

"So I guess the cat's out of the bag huh?" the girl sighed. "Mary and I have sort of been seeing each other. Romantically."

"Holy shit!" Marlene shouted, candid and straight to the point as she usually was in these situations.

"How long has this been going on?" Dorcas questioned.

"It's still really new," Lily explained.

"We were just trying to figure out the right time to tell you guys," Mary added.

"So you're the one Mary has been seeing?" James murmered.

"Yes," Lily responded. "I'm sorry James but you had to know it was never going to work out between us."

The boy sighed, running a hand through his unruly curls. "Yeah, I know."

Then he started to stand. "I think I just need some air for a minute."

"James, wait-" Remus reached out to grab his arm but James shook him off.

"I just need minute," he repeated, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair and hurrying towards the exit. Part of you wanted to go after him but the other part recognised that he probably needed some space to process things.

"Sorry, everyone. I didn't mean to ruin the night," Mary murmered folornly.

"No hun! you didn't ruin anything," you comforted.

"Yeah, we're really happy for you two," Dorcas added.

"Really?"

Everyone nodded.

"Absolutely. You both deserve to be happy," Remus confirmed.

Wide smiles crossed over the girls' faces.

--

It was two minutes until midnight and Sirius was nowhere to be seen. Despite your better judgement, you couldn't help but feel slightly disapointed. You supposed that there was some small aspect of your mind that hoped Sirius would be your New Years kiss.

You knew it was wishful thinking, especially when you hadn't even spoken about what happened between you, but with how he'd been acting towards you throughout the night, you'd allowed yourself to nurture that flicker of hope.

As people crowded around the window and the countdown began, you found your eyes searching the room for the dark haired man, wondering if just maybe, he'd make a last minute appearance.

"Five, four, three, two..."

You scanned the space one last time.

"One!"

You're last flicker of hope died out as your eyes finally landed on his form.

"Happy New Year!"

The shouts and cheers faded into the background as you watched Sirius press his lips to those of the boob-y blonde you'd seen him flirting with before.

The moment seemed to go in slow motion. You watched from afar as he tangled his hand in her hair, just as he'd done in yours only a week prior.

"Of course," you thought. "Typical"

It was Sirius Black you were talking about. You were stupid to think you meant anything more to him than a casual night of fun.

In an instant, you turned on your heel and walked towards the door, the sounds of the party fading into the background. You decided, instead of bumming around waiting for Sirius to notice you, you'd go look for James, just as you should've done much earlier.

The cold hit you like a block of cement as you stepped outside onto the street. It didn't take you long to find him.

He was sitting on the curb, outside of he bar, arms resting on his knees as he looked up towards the sky. Another explosion sounded and a flash of colour filled the air. In the distance, you could hear the cheers of excited people all around as they celebrated.

"Happy New Year, James."

He turned to look at you and in the flash of light, as another firework flickered across the sky, you were able to notice the faint tear tracks that lined his cheeks.

"Oh hey." he sniffled, rubbing a hand beneath his glasses and trying to regain a semblance of composure.

BANG!

You flopped unceremoniously onto the ground beside him as another flash filled the sky. You gave him a sympathetic smile. Funnily enough, in that moment, you knew exactly how he felt.

"Are you okay?" You asked him gently.

He let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah. I will be."

BANG!

"Good."

You both turned your gazes back to the display, taking in the beautiful array of colours filling the air. It wasn't quite the view you'd expected for the night, but somehow, that didn't seem to matter.

As you continued to watch the fireworks, you felt the gentle touch of a hand wrapping around your own. You smiled slightly as your fingers intertwined.

BANG!

Slowly, you shuffled closer and leaned into him, gently resting your head on James broad shoulder.

You stayed like that a while, just taking in the show, and each other's company.

--

Taglist:

@hisparentsgallerryy @navs-bhat @shushbruv @magicwithaknife @eeviee4 @notapoetjustscar @gugggu6gvai @robertsmithclone @ilovesugurugeto69 @taytayy178 @its-notkiee @bugworldsworld @switchingfandomslikecrazy @evangelquill, @delusional-4-fake-people, @ch4rlotte35, @insideoutjulie, @hiireadstuff, @laniirackssss, @starrystormwritings, @strategicsweetheart, @1800brat, @sammyreid, @frootloops1213, @ill-be-okay-soon-enough

[dollfacefantasy]

LAST MINUTE ♡

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: when frank won't give you attention, you have to convince him not to leave somehow...

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, boot humping, praise/degradation

wc: 3.3k

a/n: i love him i love him i love him sooooo badddddd. if you send me asks about this man i'll make out with you sloppy. anyways, comments and reblogs appreciated too <3

kinktober slot: day 25 - boot humping

Frank's eyes cast over to the corner of the room where you're sitting in front of the mirror. He can hear you humming to yourself, your voice rising and falling to the soft tune of a song you'd been obsessed with for the last few weeks. Your fingers smear some lotion across your cheeks. The pads of them massage the cream into your malleable flesh.

Your gaze catches his watching you through the reflective pane. He sees a smile spread across your lips before you turn around and spring to your feet. Your body is only covered by a t-shirt of his along with the pair of panties lying beneath. You prance across the bedroom and glide around to hover behind him.

The scent of your lotion and shampoo from the shower you'd just taken cloud the air surrounding him. It's light and airy, like the vision of you that floats through his head nowadays. He wasn't sure when you'd taken up permanent residence there, though he couldn't really complain. Thoughts of you are better than echoing gunshots or screams.

He hums in acknowledgement of your proximity, giving your forearm a pat with his rough hand. It's smooth beneath his fingertips. So untouched it feels wrong to drag his calloused skin across it.

You don't seem to mind though. Not with the way you duck your head and kiss his cheek.

"It seems like something's bothering you," you murmur, the wisps of your breath brushing over his face.

His attention returns to the weapons in front of him. He focuses on cleaning the parts and putting them back together. Your words were kind of stupid. There's always something bothering Frank. Moments where he has a clear head are few and far in between; reserved for when he's asleep in your arms or balls deep in your cunt.

He doesn't say anything rude though. He knows you're trying to be sweet. The statement is your subtle attempt at offering up your ear. You always told him he could vent. He could cry over the past or seethe about his plans for the night, either way you'd be right there. But that would only be if he ever actually took you up on that offer.

Instead, all you get in response is a grunt before a muttered "'m fine, baby."

You frown. He can see it out of the corner of his eye. Your lips turn into that pitiful little pout that drives him up the wall. Good thing his eyes are locked on a different target right now.

"Are you sure? Feel like you got something on your mind," you try again. Your hands slide up to his shoulders, fingers beginning to tenderly massage his tense deltoids.

"Told you I'm fine," he says again. The words are firm and closed off, but they don't strike you as unkind.

"Wellll… if there was anything wrong, would there be anything I could do to make it better?" you whisper.

Your lips press against his cheek bone again before migrating downward. Your soft, plump lips coasts over his jawline and onto his throat. You feel his smile make a brief appearance on his face, but his hands don't stop rotating the cleaning rag over the grip of his gun. He hasn't abandoned his task for you. Yet.

"There's nothing wrong. Don't start makin' a fuss over it," he grumbles.

"C'monnn, Frankie," you say softly, "Just tell me one thing. Even if you feel fine, just tell me one thing that you'd like."

A few more gentle pecks land on his neck. Your fingers continue to swirl and massage into the tender muscles in his shoulders.

"I'd like it if you got some rest tonight and didn't stay up worrying about me or watching the news," he responds.

You roll your eyes. Of course, you were gonna do that regardless. You always worried about him when he was 'working.' He'd spend the hours out taking care of what - or who - ever, and you'd occupy that time in your apartment doing just as he said, pouring over news reports and bouncing your leg until you were so tired your eyes couldn't stay open if they wanted to.

"Be seriousss," you whine, growing more petulant with him.

He glances over at you upon hearing that tone. That rise in pitch never did you any favors with Frank. He didn't fall for the puppy eyes or quivering lip.

"I am serious. I don't want you worrying or stressing. I'll be back tonight, and I want to come back to you sleeping in bed. Not watching for me at the fire escape," he says.

"Ok well pick something I can actually give you now," you concede.

Space. That's what he wants to tell you. Not in an annoyed way. He loves your touch, adores feeling your body heat oozing off of you. But it's hard to get in the mind frame of a killer when your breasts are pushing against his back and your nose is gliding over his throat.

He doesn't say that though because he knows no matter what tone of voice he says it in, you'll only take it in the 'I'm sick of you' way.

"What makes you think I need anything?" he asks. He puts the handgun he'd been working on down on the table and picks up a larger assault weapon instead.

"Oh my god, you're so difficult," you huff, "I'm just trying to be nice to you. I don't like seeing you all grumpy and stressed."

You may not have liked it, but grumpy and stressed was the version of Frank you saw the most. It was the one you fell in love with. The one that spends the night here in your apartment most days of the week. The one who's hoodies you wear. The one who holds you while you sleep and grunts against your skin when he has a bad dream.

"I'm not. I'm just thinking. You're making something out of nothing, sweetheart," he chides.

"You know… I think you just don't want to admit that you need a night off," you say, nodding in agreement with yourself.

"No."

"Just wait. Don't shoot it down before I explain," you try to reason.

"No," he says again.

"Yes! You'd feel so much better if you had one single night to relax," you argue.

He looks at you with a bit of disbelief. "I can't just call in sick. There is no 'night off,'" he says. His tone is strict, no room for negotiation or bargains, but that doesn't stop you from trying.

"I know, but you don't have to go out. You could text your 'people' and they could do whatever for the night," you say. His people is the term you call whoever he works with. You know there's at least one other guy, he's just never told you any names or details. "Just one night to let me take care of you. It would be good for you. And plus, I miss you," you pout.

He eyes you for a moment, dark pupils scanning over each small curve of your face. The pause gives you hope that he's considering it. That maybe he'll choose to stay with you instead of the shipping yards or rooftops.

"Don't give me that 'I miss you' act. You know I miss you too, but I can't just stay with you and sit on my ass all night cause you think it's the magic cure to me being a hardass," he says.

You narrow your eyes as the look on your face likens more to sulking.

"It's not magic… just if you rest, you'd be less uptight," you say. You loop your arms around his neck again and smoosh your cheek against his, letting the prickly spikes of his stubble scratch you.

With a little sigh, your attention shifts to what he's working on. He's still cleaning the metallic item on the desk in front of him. You watch his hands work, moving in methodical swipes. Efficacy learned from years of experience. Still, it's so boring to you that you can't even come up with a question to feign interest. Not that he'd answer anyways. He didn't like involving you in his other job.

You puff air through your lips to signify your apathy. "Frank…" you whimper, right by his ear, soft and quiet.

Usually, you avoid asking him to stay home. You never complain about the awkward hours or inconsistent time you get with him. You don't accuse him of being uncaring or allege that he's using you. But maybe it's the fact that he so blatantly denied you tonight that has your mind acting up.

"Quit while you're ahead, baby. I don't wanna argue before I leave," he says.

"I'm not trying to argue. Why can't you just consider it?" you ask.

"You know why. Now, enough," he says, bringing the discussion to an end.

Your head slumps over onto his shoulder, your ear flush against the cotton of his shirt. Of course, you know why. You know why this stuff is important to him. And it makes you feel guilty for even suggesting a brief reprieve from it.

Sagging down, you slide around to the front of his chair and drop to your knees at his feet. You rest your head on his thigh, displeasure displayed across your lips.

"You're so mean to me," you mutter.

He glances down at you, smirking a little at your exaggerated defeat. "You think so?" he prompts.

"Mhm," you hum, nuzzling against the denim covering his leg.

You scoot a little closer to his leg, pressing your torso flush against the limb. Closing the distance brings his foot to rest right between your legs. You feel it, but you don't care to notice it yet. Instead your fingers massage his calve absentmindedly.

The bedroom is quiet for a few moments spare the sounds of fabric rustling and both of your soft breaths. He just watches you for a few moments before you feel his hand pet the curve of your head.

"So unfair," he says.

You suppress the smile wanting to show on your features. The look of joy at receiving his attention. His thumb swipes back and forth over your skull. The warm weight of his palm coasting over you does soothe ypu even if you still wanna act coy.

"Yeah, especially cause I just wanna spend time with you," you sigh.

"You'll get to. Tomorrow," he responds. You can hear the clipped amusement in his voice.

Just as quick as it came, his hand leaves your head. It's back to the table. He moves onto a knife now, cleaning some grimy stain that you don't even want to know the origin of.

Shifting your head upward, you rest your chin on his knee and glare at him. "But-"

"I'm not gonna tell you again the answer is no."

The words die in your throat, leveling down to a whine. "See? Mean," you say.

You turn your head back to his side, squishing your cheek against his knee. The hard bone divots the soft flesh of your cheek like a crater on the moon.

You're content to just sit in this position and rest there until he stands up to go. To cling to his leg like the words "please please please" are about to spill from your lips. But in your deflated state, you sink down a bit more. You relax the muscles in your thighs and inadvertently bring the seat of your panties in direct contact with the scuffed top of his boot.

It doesn't shoot bliss through you like a bolt of lightening, but it sparks a fuse in the pit of your belly. The solid curve of it slotted right up against your clothed heat.

As an experimental touch, you grind your hips down. You make sure to be subtle, not wanting him to see what you're doing before you can determine if it's worth the humiliation. The muted sensation of pleasure that fills your belly answers that question quickly though.

Once you get the first taste, you rock your hips back and forth in little bursts. It wouldn't be noticeable to a quick glance, but a more intentional look would catch the way your ass pushes forward and back.

What gets him to notice is the feeling of you gripping his leg tighter. You press the hard front of his shin between your breasts and down your stomach harder. That gets him to look in your direction. When he does, he finds the sight of you getting yourself off with his boot.

"What're you doing?" he asks, giving you the chance to explain first.

"Nothing," you answer almost instantly.

"Doesn't look like nothing. Doesn't feel like nothing," he says as he tilts the point of his shoe upward. The boost grants some more friction to your clit, drawing a sharp whine out of you.

"Might have to get you a collar if you keep acting like a puppy, baby," he teases.

"I'm not," you whimper. You press your face harder against his knee as if it could act as a shield against the embarrassment.

"Really? Whining and humping my leg like you're in heat doesn't count?" he mocks.

"Shut up," you choke out.

"Attitude," he tuts. He shakes his head before his eyes flit back to the weapon on the table, letting you do your thing.

And you take advantage of that. Your hips move back and forth like a pendulum. You can feel the thin cloth of your underwear getting sticky as arousal leaks from you at the soft stimulation blooming between your legs. Your poor, swollen clit presses on the firm material as you let out a raucous whine. He tsks at you from above.

"It's getting late. You might wanna keep your volume down," he says.

The words come out so dismissive, so passively entertained. As if you're merely background noise. You can't help whining again. Your grip tightens on him, and your hips move in broader circles. If he's just going to let you do this, you're going to take advantage.

More sparks of white hot pleasure fizzle between your thighs. Your cunt ruts over the expanse of Frank's boot in quick strokes. The fabric of your panties only serves to provide some extra friction. Your eyes flutter and your cheek feels numb from the pressure of his kneecap again.

It feels as if you're in your own little world while doing this. Even if you're attached to him, it still seems like you're in a haze of your own at the moment. Just a lusty daze focused on making yourself feel good.

Vaguely, you can hear the clicks of his equipment above. The rustling of pouches and cloths. The clunking of organization. It all means nothing to you. The only thing you're concerned with is how your folds spread across the shape of his shoe.

You mewl softly. A trickle of saliva leaks from your mouth onto the rough fabric of his pants. All your thoughts have melted away. Your limbs stay locked around his leg, ensuring you have secure leverage to rock yourself back and forth.

He still doesn't acknowledge you. His eyes stay on the table. Honestly, you would believe he didn't even know you were there if not for him lowering his foot and then raising it again. The motion gives you a burst of stimulation, an interruption to the rhythm you'd set for yourself.

A desperate whine crackles out of your throat. You spread your thighs further to get down on him and press your aching pussy against him harder.

"Frank…" you whimper before biting your lip for a moment.

This time he doesn't disregard the call for him. He reaches down, sweeping his hand over your head and cupping your jaw. He directs you to look up at him and gets clear view of your empty eyes.

"What is it, baby?" he asks. His thumb brushes back and forth across your lower lip. The simple touch is enough to send you into orbit.

"I…" you try to start. But words are hard to conjure when thoughts have become nothing more than memory. "I love you," you end up choking out.

He chuckles. "Yeah, you do," he agrees.

You whine and lower your head again. Your body doesn't stop swinging your hips. His hand migrates back to the top of your head.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he says. His voice rumbles out low and quiet, so gravelly you can almost feel the vibrations in your bones.

He continues to gaze down at you. His eyes drink in the sight of you getting yourself off on his leg. Your hips constantly drag over the seamless surface of his shoes. Cute little noises pour from your mouth in a never-ending flow. Your eyes scrunch up and your nose crinkles when rushes of euphoria course through you.

"You gonna cum on my boot, doll? Gonna make a mess?" he rasps.

You nod eagerly. "Mhm. Mhm. Mhm," you whimper. In direct contrast to his, your voice floats into the air light and soft.

"Do it. Maybe I'll have you lick it up afterwards. I know you'd do it. Shit, you'd probably fucking like it," he says.

That's all you need to rush the spark on your fuse to the end and send you into an explosion of pleasure. Your back arches and you cling to his leg like it's a lifeline. Your grip gets so tight that had you been more lucid, you probably would have worried about cutting off his circulation.

Your pussy clenches around nothing, your walls fluttering with the urge to feel him spilling inside you in unison. Regardless, you keep rabbiting your hips and working yourself over the peak. Your noises come out more whiny and full of need, aching to hear his grunts in your ear.

As blissed out as you are, your droopy eyes still catch sight of the solid bulge in his pants. You hold out hope that maybe you'll get to have some of what you long for before he goes.

The intensity of your high begins to simmer down to a satisfying warmth as you reach the end. Your hips move slower and slower until they come to a stop. You catch your breath, panting and leaning against his leg totally lax.

He doesn't say anything. He just finishes up what he was doing and lets you come down on your own.

After a few minutes though, he does scoop you up off the ground and into his lap.

"That feel good?" he asks.

Your head bobs up and down.

"Looked like it," he grumbles.

"Not as good as it would've felt with you though," you murmur.

He stares at your content, post-release face. It's not a surprise you want more. Had you not hinted at wanting him to fuck you properly after that, he would have been actually concerned for your well-being.

"Guess you'll have to wait till I get back to find out," he says lowly with a kiss to your temple.

"But Frank…" you say, lazily sliding your hand down. The center of your palm lands on his swelling bulge, giving it enough pressure to drag a hiss from his lips.

He pauses, lets you stroke him a few times. It feels good. He knows he should just push you off. Should send you off to bed now that you're all nice and relaxed. But he can't resist that light caress.

Sighing he lifts you and steps over to the edge of the bed. Dropping you back on the mattress, he starts to remove his belt.

"You got fifteen minutes, ya little brat. After that, I'm still leaving," he tells you before dropping forward and hovering over your body, bringing your lips into a brisk kiss.

[amiableness]

Hi!! Just wanted to say that your dad!James series is genuinely one of the best series I have ever read on here! Keep up your amazing writing 💗

Could I perhaps request dad!James STRUGGLING with his very obvious breeding kink 😂 like they’re just doing domestic chores and routines around the house and James literally can’t keep his hands off her, even around Henry which makes Henry kind of curious of their relationship? Thanks!

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 991 words | pretty much 18+

thank you sm! so glad you're loving the series and i hope this is what you were picturing <3 series masterlist ; main masterlist

From the moment you stepped out in those sleep shorts—the ones that had been his undoing long before the two of you were even together—he couldn’t take his eyes off you. The shirt you had on wasn’t anything remarkable, but the fact that it was his made it irresistible.

There was something different about you, something that had James completely worked up. His eyes drifted down, tracing how your shorts clung to your hips—tighter than usual. To anyone else, the difference might have gone unnoticed, but he had the fit of those shorts committed to memory. They were snugger now. His brows knitted together as realization dawned: that must be it—you’d gained weight. 

And fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest thing to him.

There was something deeply satisfying about being by your side as he watched you grow older, your body changing in subtle ways over time. It was intimate, domestic, and it stirred something primal within him.

For a fleeting moment, the thought crosses his mind—you might be pregnant. But he quickly dismisses it. It was far too soon since you’d started trying for that to be possible.

Leaning against the wall, James stifles a low groan as his eyes lock on you bending over to put something—he has no idea what—into the cupboard. Whatever it is doesn’t matter. All he can focus on is you, and his thoughts are spiraling fast into dangerous territory.

Heat coils low in his stomach as his mind drifts, imagining himself dropping to his knees in front of you. He pictures the way he’d look up at you, tugging your shorts down your legs, draping one over his shoulder as his lips pressed warm kisses into your skin. He’d trail kisses, licks, and soft bites until your pleas filled the air, begging that you couldn’t take any more. The thought of rising to his full height, flipping you effortlessly so your palms landed with a sharp smack against the cool granite, sent a shiver through him. He could almost hear the soft whimper in your voice as you arched your back, telling him just how much you needed him. 

The desperation in your voice as you plead with him to fill you, to make you a mum, sends a desire thrumming through him. A thought flashes in his mind—if he were to get you pregnant, those infamous shorts would cling even tighter to your hips. The thought of you, all pregnant and pretty, leaves him feeling dizzy with want.

He’s never wanted anyone more in his life.

James calls your name, but you don’t turn around, too absorbed in flitting around the kitchen with your back to him. He had cooked dinner, which meant the clean-up was your responsibility tonight.

“Hm?” You hum in response, and James feels a flicker of desperation rise within him—he wants your attention, and it’s driving him mad. 

Completely oblivious to his gaze, you stretch onto your tiptoes, leaning over the counter to reach that tricky corner as you wipe it down. The way you move, utterly unaware, only makes it harder for him to tear his eyes away.

He pushes forward, his hands landing firmly on your hips with a squeeze, and you startle, completely unaware of how near he was.

“Can you pause for a second?” He asks, his voice low, drawing your attention. 

You glance over your shoulder, arching a brow. “I’m almost done. Just give me a few more minutes.”

“I don’t think I can.” He sighs, his hands sliding around your waist, moving deliberately as his fingers trace the curve of your hips and the softness of your stomach. 

“Wha—oh.” You breathe, your words faltering as you feel him pressed firmly against your back, his intent unmistakable. 

“There’s something about you in this shirt—my shirt—and these fucking shorts that’s driving me insane,” he mutters, his hand gliding up from your hips, tracing the curve of your stomach, brushing softly over your nipples before gently cupping your jaw, his touch deliberate yet achingly tender. He tilts your head to the side, leaning in to press a lingering kiss just below your ear. “You’re breathtaking. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

A shuddering breath escapes you, the warmth of his words settling over you. You want to tell him you don’t know how you got so lucky, but you can’t find the words.

“Fuck, all I can think about is bending you over this counter and fucking you full of me.” 

Your breath catches, and you gasp sharply, twisting in his grasp to meet his gaze, your wide eyes searching his as heat blooms between you.

“Henry is right there.” You snap, and James casually glances over to his son in the living room, the blue light flickering over his little face as he watches the cartoon on the screen.

“He’s busy. I doubt he’d even notice if we snuck upstairs,” James murmurs, a grin spreading across his face as he hauls you closer, his hands firm on your waist. He dips his head, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, each one sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Jamie,” you whisper, a soft hum escaping your lips as you feel him mumble a response against your neck, his breath warm and faintly teasing. “If you get Henry to bed I’ll let you do anything you want to me.”

James pulls back sharply, his gaze intense. “Anything?”

“Anything.” You reply, your voice steady.

James eyes you for a moment before calling out Henry’s name, then strides straight into the living room. You watch as he grabs the remote, shutting off the TV before effortlessly hoisting Henry over his shoulder. “Let’s go, bud. Bedtime!” 

A soft laugh escapes you as you hear Henry’s protests, followed by James scrambling for some random excuse for why it’s suddenly time for bed. Their voices fade as they head upstairs, and you’re left smiling in the kitchen.

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍

[incognit0slut]

i hope this is how to send a request cuz this is my first time requesting anything. but i wanted to ask if you could do a story of spencer x reader of when he comes back home from prison in season 12? i don't know if i want it to be girlfriend and boyfriend or if they're married i don't really know, sorry. but i don't really mind either way. hope you can write something like this, thank you :))) <333

tysm for trusting me with your first request and sorry this took so long, it's also kind of rushed and I'm not too confident with it but I hope you like it <3

Home is whenever I’m with you

Category: angst, hurt, comfort, gn reader ~1.7k words

He’s back. Your boyfriend is back. There's a tangle of nerves in the pit of your stomach at the mere thought of seeing him again, especially after all that’s happened. You get to hug him, to kiss him, to feel the softness of his thick, beautiful hair under your fingers again.

But not now. His mother is missing. Those are the words Emily spoke to you over the phone after she called to let you know he’s released. It’s ironic, to hear such wonderful news just to be followed by something so disheartening. And the guilt creeps in, that nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, if you had gone to visit his mom as planned, this nightmare could've been avoided.

“Do not blame yourself,” Emily adds, her voice is a lifeline in the chaos of emotions. It's as if she can read your thoughts, know exactly what you're feeling without you saying a word. “Just stay where you are, okay? I've got agents keeping an eye on your building. I'll keep you updated."

You're left with no choice but to accept. Your boyfriend may be back, but you still can’t see him.

And you get it. His mom comes first, always has, and always will. A child's love for their parents is unbreakable, and if you were in his shoes, you'd move heaven and earth to keep your parents safe. So, naturally, you do what any loving and supportive girlfriend would do—you wait.

And wait. And wait. And wait. Each passing second stretches into agonizing minutes, and those minutes drag on into long, uncertain hours. One skipped meal turns into two, and suddenly, you're lying in bed in the dead of night with an empty stomach. You know you should take care of yourself, but your mind is fixated on him.

What is he doing? Has he eaten anything? Is he taking breaks at all? Has he managed to get any sleep? And most importantly, has there been any news about his mom? 

Your mind is racing, flooded with countless unanswered questions. You try to find comfort in sleep, but every ring of your phone feels like a cruel interruption, each time hoping it's him—or at least a word from his friends. But it's always a disappointment, just meaningless notifications and distant messages from your friends about mundane plans.

Eventually, exhaustion overtakes you, but your sleep is restless, it's as if your mind refuses to grant you a moment of respite. Then, in the quiet hours of the night, at two in the morning, you're jolted awake by the familiar sound of a new message on your phone.

His mom is safe.

A sigh of relief escapes you, almost audible in the silence. You type out a response to Emily with trembling hands.

That’s good to hear. Is he fine?

Not great, but he's managing.

That's all you need to hear. His mom is safe, and though he's not doing great, he's managing well enough. With a weight lifted off your shoulders, you finally allow yourself to relax. At least now you can drift back into sleep knowing that he's partially okay.

You wake up again later that night by a rapid knocking. At first, you try to brush it off as just noise from the neighbors, but as you slowly come to your senses, you realize it's coming from your apartment.

Half-worried and half-curious, you reluctantly peel yourself from the comfort of your bed, your mind racing with possibilities as you approach the door. When you glance through the peephole, you're met with a sight that instantly jolts you awake. Without a second thought, you fumble with the lock and swing the door open.

And there your boyfriend stands, but he's a far cry from the man you remember. His hair is wild and unkempt, and his eyes, usually bright and lively, are now dull and tired, shadowed by exhaustion. He's dressed in his usual suit and tie, a combination you've always admired for its professional and polished look. But today, his shirt is half-tucked, half-untucked, and his tie hangs loosely around his neck

“Spence, what are you—”

Before you can finish, he bursts through the door, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

"I'm sorry," he breaks, his voice strained with emotion. "I—I wanted to come here as fast as I can—"

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” You wrap your arms around his waist and take in a deep breath. Despite his disheveled appearance, he smells exactly as you remember—warm, familiar, like home. “It’s all good, honey, I don’t mind.” 

“It’s not alright. I should’ve answered your calls—”

“Spencer, it’s okay,” you interrupt gently, running your fingers soothingly down his back. “After all the time you’ve been away, a few more hours hardly matter.”

“Well, it should matter,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice muffled as he buries himself in the crook of your neck. “I shouldn’t have left you like this.”

You hold him tighter, feeling his weight against you, his breath warm against your skin. “Shh,” you murmur, rubbing his back in comforting circles. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

He nods against your neck, his grip on you tightening as if he's afraid to let go.

“How’s your mom?”

He lifts his head slightly, meeting your gaze with tired eyes. “She’s... she’s okay,” he replies. “We found her. She’s safe now.”

You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief flooding through you. “I’m glad to hear that,” you say, cupping his cheek gently. “Are you okay?”

He hesitates for a moment as if considering the question carefully. “I’m fine, just… tired.”

Your fingers traced the lines of exhaustion etched on his face. “Let’s get you inside and comfortable, okay?”

He nods, and you usher him inside, relief flooding through you as you close the door behind you. Your fingers naturally intertwine with his as you guide him towards your bedroom.

“Do you want anything? Water, food?”

He shakes his head, falling into step with you. “Maybe later,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand. “How have you been?”

"Well," you begin, your voice filled with warmth. "'I've been keeping busy while you're gone.”

You lead him to the edge of the bed, sitting him down while you stand between his legs, your eyes meeting his tired gaze. "Work has been... work," you say with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “And I managed to put up the shelf I bought online. Look.”

You gesture towards the bookshelf nestled in the corner of the room and he follows your gaze. “You did that all by yourself?”

"Yeah, I did," you reply, your smile widening. "It wasn't easy without having you constantly nagging me how to do it, but I figured it out."

He nods, a hint of regret shadowing his features. “I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you.”

You shake your head, moving closer to him and placing a comforting hand on his cheek. "Don’t apologize.”

He leans into your touch, his gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability that tugs at your heartstrings. His eyes, wide and brown, look up at you, and you can’t help but compare him to a puppy—sad, yet undeniably endearing, with an innocence that melts your heart. You brush a thumb gently across his cheek, noting the subtle change in his appearance.

“You grew out your facial hair.”

A faint blush colors his cheeks as he shifts under your gaze. "Yeah, I guess I did," he replies, his voice tinged with self-consciousness. 

You can't help but smile at his bashfulness. "I like it," you assure him. "It suits you."

“Really?”

“It’s growing on me.”

His expression softens at your words, a warmth spreading through his tired features. "Maybe I'll keep it.” 

You nod in agreement, a smile playing on your lips as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. He sighs contentedly as he leans into your chest, and you gently stroke his hair, soothing him with your touch.

"It's good to be back," he murmurs, his voice muffled against your shirt.

"It's good having you back," you reply softly, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face.

“I thought I was never going to see you again.”

"Why would you think that?”

He hesitates for a moment. "After everything that happened... I wasn't sure if I'd make it back to you.”

You gently tilt his chin up, meeting his gaze. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that.”

His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he nods, his vulnerability laid bare. "I was also afraid that I might lose you,” he adds. “I was afraid you’d get tired of waiting for me.”

“Oh, honey…”

“Everyone I care for always leaves, sooner or later. And I can’t bear the thought… the thought of not coming home without you in my life,” he admits, his voice trembling with emotion and you feel a lump form in your throat as you listen. "I feel… so different right now. I don’t feel like my usual self, and I-I was afraid you wouldn’t like this version of me.”

You pull back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, your gaze locked with his. "I would never think any less of you.”

He sniffs, and that's when you notice a tear escaping down his cheek. Your heart aches even more. “I might not be the same person you last saw me.”

You shake your head, brushing away his tears with your thumb. "It doesn't matter," you reply earnestly. “You're still the person I fell in love with, and nothing will ever change that.”

He looks at you in disbelief, as if he can't quite comprehend how you could love him so unconditionally. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I see you," you reply. "Beyond the surface, beyond the changes, I see who you are—the kindness, the strength, the love that has always been a part of you. And that's something that remains unchanged, no matter what."

He exhales softly, his features softening as he absorbs your words. But you aren’t finished, not until he realizes how worthy of love he is.

“You’re still the man who loves silly magic tricks, you’re still the man who asks for jello every time we have dessert,” you tease, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He cracks a small smile at your playful words. “You’re still the man who loves books, who loves learning. You're still the man who loves helping other people.”

You lean closer, your breath mingling with his as your lips almost touch.

“And I’ll be the one to love every version of you,” you whisper. “The person you were, the person you are, and the person you're becoming.”

He grips your hips and pulls you closer. Without a word, you understand what he needs, what he's asking for, and you close the distance between you, your lips brushing against his.

You never truly understand the meaning of bittersweet until this very moment. His tears carry the saltiness of sorrow, but his lips offer a sweetness that lingers on your tongue. You feel the weight of his pain, the heaviness of his grief, yet you also sense a comforting warmth in the way his lips move gently against yours.

You can feel his uncertainty, and it’s clear that getting back into his old routine won't be easy after everything he's been through. But you’re here for him and you're willing to support him in any way you can.

Because he’s back. Your boyfriend is back. You can hardly believe you get to hug him, kiss him, and run your fingers through his thick, beautiful hair once more. You can’t believe you get to hold him again in your arms, and you hope to do so for a very long time.

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen react to their s/o's baby photos

notes: ive been choosing baby photos for our school yearbook cz it's the end of the year and it had me thinking.... what if i made this a svt hc??

masterlist

seungcheol, jeonghan, hoshi

eyes are positively gleaming at the chance to see your embarrassing moments when your parents bring up ur baby photos when he's visiting one day. he is so very ready to make fun of you for how ridiculous you looked as a baby. only, that all gets forgotten when he's shown the first picture and his jaw drops open because???? you were so cute wtf????? how is this even possible omg you were the cutest baby he's ever seen. all thoughts of blackmail are gone from his head. he's just in awe over how you've stayed so CUTE over the years

joshua, woozi, vernon, chan

finds you absolutely adorable no matter what. every picture that gets placed in front of him, he's instantly smiling and pointing out your chubby cheeks and saying that you're the cutest little bean he's ever laid his eyes on. you could be screaming and throwing the biggest tantrum in the photo and he'll still giggle and say you're soooo so adorable. is he ridiculously, horribly in love with you? yeah. and he knows it. doesn't stop him from steadfastly believing you were the cutest baby ever tho

junhui, dokyeom, mingyu

giggles at all your demented baby photos. your parents were the kind that took photos of every single memory during your childhood, so there are many of you with your face screwed up into a temper tantrum or with food all over your face or when you're drooling all over yourself whilst u were teething. you find it embarrassing, but this guy thinks that it's soooo unbelievably cute. keeps giggling like he's gone insane. is, weirdly, especially attached to that one picture of u trying to gnaw off your grandma's hand with your toothless gums

wonwoo, minghao, seungkwan

he always had a feeling that u were cute when you were a baby, and on the day that your parents busted out the childhood photos, his feelings were confirmed. good lord, you were such an adorable baby that he can't help but smile with such ridiculous fondness down at the photos before looking over at you again, pinching your cheeks and saying that you're still as cute as you were back then. very seriously asks ur parents if they can send him copies of the baby photos that he likes the most so he can keep them for himself

PLEASE REMEMBER TO REBLOG <3

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