#When it rolls out it will make perfect sense.

[rindough]

cw. i rllllly recommend listening to 'illusion' by dua lipa, i hope i did boothill justice here!! 🥹🥹

OMG imagine dancing with Boothill in the middle of a mission to hunt down Acheron. The disco ball shines through the dark room, bodies of the dreamscape residents bump against one another to the beat of the music and to be honest, the quest has come to its moment of being at a constant, of being at a... perfect standstill.

"We better make this quick, been waitin' for so fudgin' long it's getting borin' in here!"

He pauses at the hand that has reached out for him, holding him in place to prevent him from taking his gun out. "Oi!"

"Don't 'Oi' me." You groaned, your colleague rolls his eyes at you. "Control yourself."

"You... Then how are we gonna make sum' progress with this task?"

Hm? He thinks, watching as you've pushed yourself off from leaning against the counter, yourself being a step ahead of him causing him to stand straight too.

"Care to have a dance with me?" He blinks, he breath now hitched at the way your question was thrown at him, words that slipped through your plush lips? Eyes luring him in with your request through the strands of your hair?

"Boothill?"

Hell yeah he's in.

Without hesitation he drags you to the middle of the dancefloor, with how fast he's moving, it's no doubt he's skilled or he's done this before... in his bedroom you guess, from the way he mutters a few "Hm. Like this." and some "Okay, okay, okay." It was a teeny bit messy but honestly? You found some cuteness to it.

It took him less than a minute's time to have you be pressed so close to him, body swaying oh so sexily with your face inches apart. The hold of his hand on yours, fingers intertwining as he lifts it up with eyes not leaving yours.

You spin, catching that shark teeth beaming right back at you when your body comes back to face his.

Man, you swear you found the cyborg attractive and at times his actions have caused your heart to do summersaults but... this? What even can beat to this moment right now?

The beat, the smiles exchanged between you, it all leaves him giddy, that eat-shitting grin breaks when his laughter fills your ears. His automatic heart swirling all around just like the way these colorful dots dance across your face. It's intoxicating, really. He wants to lean in, perhaps this is the right time-

No... no, he shouldn't.

Without a word he whips your figure out by the arm in the small dance circle the crowd had given you. One second he's chuckling at the sound of your gasp leaving your lips, the next you're both in a giggling fit when you come right back in his arms. Boothill, no matter how many times he had contemplated this thing he's dealing, will bet an arm, or his whole body that he is NOT (Read: crazily, deeply) into you.

It was baffling really, how the both of you could follow up and be in sync to the invisible rhythm you have in that pulsing minds of you two. Body pressed and swaying to the rhythm, a hand or two on his shoulder, his two metal limps holding firmly to your hips. The view of the background swiftly changes depending who's on who's side of the room now.

The glimmer in his eyes were telling, you both knew this was something... deeper. A new side of each other the two of you are finally discovering after years of working together. And that glimmer in his eyes, though somewhat unfamiliar, was telling you something, and with the slow, yet daring grin playing on your lips, he takes that as a yes.

As the music comes to hit you again with its drop, he subsequently directs your bodies the other way and you hung your head back, eyes closing when his hand stays by the low of your waist, feeling the cold metal of his palm slipping to the back of your knee while you hung low from his dip.

"Atta, baby."

His words, his hold on you, this... it all brings you a sense of security and comfort, as if you're both just regular folks coming to Penacony for a trip together. Bubbles of laughter escapes your lips, especially with the way his strands of hair tickle your torso. He peers down at you across the valley of your chest, grinning at what your mission has come to.

He pulls you up quickly.

Your laughter dies down and you open your eyes, your hair guaranteed a slight mess but that's not of concern right now. Because who you both expect to find is right there staring back at you, amused.

"Great dance, you two."

want more? check out my master list!

©  2024 rindough, do not repost or plagiarize.

#I LISTENED TO ILLUSION BY DUA N WROTE THIS #SO SHUD U #or whatever that makes u groove 🕺🏻💃🏻 #man the thought is so #its SO GOOD N HOT IN MY HEAD #boothill x reader #hsr x reader #boothill hsr #honkai star rail x reader #📝 — works!! #boothill fluff #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff

[kennedysbaby]

Vendetta leon n' reader fluff where they go to a café after he fixes his bike - 🐰

sweet — leon kennedy.

ugh i'm so weak for vendetta leon. and this is such a cute prompt, i gotchu. incredibly sorry for the month-ish long hiatus life has been on my ass. will start working on the other reqs asap. <3

wc: 1.3k

pairing: vendetta leon x fem! reader.

content: could be age gap, but doesn’t have to be. established relationship. very cute & fluffy. leon’s dad jokes. kisses. fangirling.

"babe…you're still workin' on that thing?" 

the soft lull of your voice snaps leon out of his concentration, rising to his feet and turning around to face you, standing at the doorway, gently holding onto the frame. the wrench he'd been holding drops to the floor with a loud clatter. 

"she's not gonna fix herself," leon shrugs, wiping away the sweat that glimmered on his forehead with the back of his hand that was littered with oil.

the scent of motor oil and grease lingered heavily in the air, mingled with the faint smell of gasoline, the acrid aroma unwelcomingly invading your senses. tools were scattered across the floor—wrenches, screwdrivers, and a few special instruments you couldn't quite recognize. 

"aren't these given to you for free anyways? why bother?" you ask, stepping down the couple stairs to the garage. "you're so extra sometimes," you huff. 

leon rolls his eyes, watching as you pick up the engine he was tinkering with, examining the contraption curiously. "you see, sweetheart," he swipes the engine away from your hands, afraid you might mess something up accidentally, "this one's special to me." 

"whatever," you settle yourself onto the empty stool, lazily draping your arms over your thighs. "we're still on for this afternoon though, right?" 

it was a clear, sunny saturday morning—the weather was perfect and tulips were blooming, painting a picturesque scene outside. after being away for a long week on some taxing mission, leon had finally returned, straight into your embrace—he'd promised to take you out today, but here he was, still messing with his ducati. 

"sorry baby," his piercing eyes meet yours, a smug look etching onto leon's face. "change of plans. i'm takin' her out," he teases, patting the seat of his motorcycle. 

a flicker of annoyance flashes across your features. you scoff, rolling your eyes, "you're not funny, leon." you deadpan. if there was one thing leon absolutely adored—that wasn't you—it was awful dad jokes. deep down, you found them incredibly endearing, but you'd never admit that out loud. after all, was leon really leon if not for the terrible jokes?

he laughs lightly, shaking his head—a habit of his you'd picked up over the two years you'd been together. "don't get all pouty on me, doll," leon leans in to press a kiss onto your soft lips, "of course we are. just lemme finish this up and shower."

"okay, take your time," you slide off of the stool, your hands gliding over his arms to gently push him off of you, not wanting the grease on his hands to mistakenly dirty up your clothes. maybe it was deliberate, you think, he probably wanted you to take that shower with him—not that you were opposed to the idea.

…

the roar of his motorcycle's engine vibrates through your body as you clutch tightly onto leon's leather jacket, arms wrapped tightly around his waist as you hold on for dear life. this wasn't the first time you rode with leon, but it still served to be somewhat terrifying. the landscape around you blurs into a kaleidoscope of colors while the sun kisses your exposed skin. 

gusts of wind brushes past the two of you, whipping your hair and billowing your skirt. with every turn and bend, you leaned in sync with him, your face pressing against the cool leather. 

leon loved the way you clung onto him like this, a smirk creeping onto his lips as he felt your plush tits press up against his back when he'd make a sharp swerve. 

eventually, leon turns off of the highway, now only several minutes away from the café that you'd been wanting to try out for so long. he pulls into an empty parking spot, kicking the stand to set the bike in place to allow you to slide off easily. you take the helmet off, shaking your head to straighten out your hair. leon smiles, admiring the sight before him.

"c'mon pretty girl," his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to him while you walked towards the café. an obligatory kiss is placed on the side of your forehead. leon was cute.

the small bell above the door chimed softly as the café door swung open, letting in a gentle breeze as you and leon stepped inside. the sweet aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries enveloped you, a sense of warmth washing over the pair.

it was quaint and inviting inside, with mismatched chairs and tables, each adorned with small vases of tulips or peonies. the walls were lined with bookshelves crammed with an eclectic mix of novels and magazines. a soft hum of conversation mixed with the sound of clinking cups and the whir of the espresso machine as a bowie record spun in the background.

"of course you'd pick a place like this," leon quips with an amused chuckle, his hand absentmindedly smoothing up and down your side. "what're you in the mood for, baby?"

"i'll be taking that as a compliment," a pretty smile adorns your lips as you mull over his question, wondering what you wanted to order. your eyes scan over the menu chalked above the counter, the barista also waiting to take your order. jeez, places like this truly brought out your indecisiveness.

after pondering for about a moment, you decide, "i think…i think i'll have a hot vanilla latte and one of those raspberry scones," your finger points to the glass display filled with treats. 

"always back to the basics, hm?" leon teases, looking down at your adoringly for a moment while pinching your stomach, before ordering himself, "i'll go with a black coffee and a blueberry danish." 

the barista—a teenage girl—nods, quickly jotting down both of your orders as she swung over to prepare your drinks effortlessly. when she thought the two of you had walked far enough, and out of earshot, she fawned over you with the other barista working there. "aren't they so perfect? ugh, that's all i want in life." she gushes woefully, yearning for something similar. 

truth be told, the two of you were quite a picturesque, swoonworthy couple. leon, with his ruggishly handsome looks and signature leather jacket, and you, with your pretty features and stylish outfits. a total juxtaposition to one another, yet still fit so seamlessly together. the comment drew out an amused scoff from leon and a light laugh from you.  

it wasn't long before the same barista brought your coffee and pastries, handing them to their respective owners. a sheepish, stupid smile played on her lips, "enjoy!" her eyes darted between both you and leon, admiring the two of you in your entirety.

you raise the ceramic mug to your lips, taking a nice swig of the your latte, savoring the sweet taste that trickled down your throat. "this is perfect," your tongue glides over your top lip, wiping away the foam mustache that had formed. a contented smile spread across your face, the sight alone causing leon to smile. you were cute.

"isn't it?" leon agrees, taking a bite out of his danish. unbeknownst to him, you quickly snap a picture of him, a sly look on your face. when he notices, his eyes narrow, "you delete that right now." his tone instantly firmed, but it was obvious he was only playing around.

"oh, no way in hell," you shake your head with a giggle, setting your phone down on the table, "this is going straight to claire and the others." 

"this is what i get for paying." he sighed sharply, shaking his head in disbelief. leon would get brutally mutilated by one of the b.o.w's he dealt with on the regular before ever making you pay on a date. 

sunlight poured in through the large glass windows, engulfing the café in an amber embrace, only adding to the already cozy atmosphere. you and leon sit there on that corner table for another hour or so, the two of you talking each other's ears off over tasty—and overpriced—coffee and pastries.

#VENDETTA LEON RAHHHHH #i love dilf leon #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon kennedy oneshot #leon kennedy #resident evil vendetta #vendetta leon #vendetta leon kennedy x reader #older leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #kennedysbaby

[scuttlingcrab]

Okay, but have you considered how hot it would be for Raphael to use his claws to "undress" Tav? Or him dragging those claws all over Tav's body?

*Heavy breathing*

But of course, anon! This little drabble is very much sfw but still suggestive, tensions building as they're both on the verge of eruption, haha. My favourite kind of intimacy. *winks*

Summary: Raphael takes matters into his own hands when Tav proves to be a less than cooperative model for his latest painting. He will do anything to create a masterpiece, even if that means teasing his little mouse into submission.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

Practice Makes Perfect

(Image via savriea)

“Gods, this is torturous, Raphael. How much longer do you expect me to just sit here?”

“Until it’s flawless.” 

Raphael did not look up from the painting, but he could sense Tav was glaring at him, no doubt giving him another one of her infamous disgruntled looks.

“Frowning is unbecoming of you, little mouse.” Raphael continued, delicately dabbing a brush in some paint. He brought it to the half finished canvas but hesitated, unsure where to make his next mark. 

He instead sat back in his chair, humming a tune to himself as he compared the painting to the model before him. 

Tav sat a few feet away from Raphael, lounging on a plush leather chair. Per Raphael’s request, Tav wore a black dress with thin straps. The ensemble was form fitting, highlighting her voluptuous figure. Even whilst relaxed, her curves were strong and delicate, fierce but soft, like lush rolling hills sweeping through a vast countryside. 

She had her elbow on the arm rest, touching her chin with her thumb and index finger, the other hand placed on her lap. Her head was tilted slightly, in a way to suggest thoughtfulness, but Tav’s own visage added an extra layer of mystery to the pose. Her expression was stoic, yet her eyes were deeply alluring, teasing Raphael, as if to say, ‘come just a little closer, Devil, and I’ll tell you my deepest, darkest secrets.’

The chair was positioned on the balcony of Raphael’s private atelier, in his House of Hope. The skies of Avernus had been fickle that day. Midway through the painting session, a sea of smokey clouds floated into view, as if on purpose; viciously orchestrated by someone watching from the sidelines, hoping to rile Raphael. Something Haarlep would’ve loved to achieve, if they had any ambitions. The clouds brought with them mild winds and a torrential downpour of blood rain, completely souring the atmosphere Raphael had been working with. 

Tav sighed, rolling her shoulders. She interlaced her fingers, stretching her arms out wide in front of her like a cat pulled from slumber.

Raphael raised his fingers, threatening to snap her back into place if she continued to move about like a misbehaved child. He had reprimanded her twice already. Once when she refused to sit still after he had placed her in the current position; and the second, when she fell asleep, her body slumping and nearly sliding off the chair. 

Apparently it was too strenuous, too tortuous even, for a mere mortal to sit in one position for a few hours. Perhaps Raphael would consider testing this new type of punishment further on some of his future debtors? 

“Is there something more you wish to moan about? Or shall we proceed?”

Tav hesitated, adjusting her dress before reluctantly resuming the pose. 

“Surely you don’t expect to finish this painting in one day?” Tav grumbled. 

“You forget yourself, little mouse. We had an agreement and I never specified a duration.” Raphael paused, noticing a tiny blemish on the canvas that needed touching up. He dabbed the paintbrush across the spot a few times until it disappeared.

“And as I’m sure you’re well aware, time has no relevance in Avernus...”

Raphael shifted to the side so that his face was no longer obscured by the canvas, smirking at Tav.

The Devil had been enraptured by the little mouse the second he spotted her, stumbling from the Nautiloid ruins like a bumbling buffoon. And yet still, in her own way, she climbed through those flames, like a phoenix from the ashes, igniting sparks within Raphael’s very being. She had been reborn, and she would rise to greater heights suiting his own motivations very soon.

Raphael re-focused his attention back to the painting, suddenly finding his ego deflating as he stared at the blasé first pass. It did not stir him the same way Tav tormented him with rampant desires; hideous mortal emotions he had strictly forbidden himself to feel, believing to have locked them away within the recesses of his infernal heart. And yet still, he found himself frantically gathering the pieces of his broken composure, haphazardly putting them back together after each rendezvous.

He was better than that and he damned well knew it.

This current piece, however, was proving to be more problematic than he imagined. Raphael had painted hundreds of portraits in the past; from famous Devils to mortals alike, and yet something was missing. It was void of any life or passion. In this portrait Tav was merely a facade, a poor initiation of the real thing before his own eyes. 

“What to do…” Raphael whispered. 

Perhaps it was the pose? Or could it be Tav herself? 

Raphael’s mind lingered on the last thought, noticing Tav was a bit stiff. In all their time together, she never quite shed that awkward part of her personality. Getting her to relax had proven, time and time again, to be more difficult than all his preparations to procure the Crown of Karsus. He did find that aspect of her endearing, no less; but she needed to loosen up, to become more comfortable within her own skin. 

There needed to be more spontaneity in this painting - that was it! In order to achieve greatness he needed to push himself further, and in turn, push his muse past her breaking point... 

Just as Raphael considered destroying the rough draft and dismissing Tav, the dark clouds parted and a glowing orange spotlight poured through the skies, illuminating his balcony.

“The solution has presented itself, alas!” Raphael jumped up, rushing towards Tav. 

She could barely register a response, or more likely a complaint of some kind, before Raphael swept her in his arms. He pushed her towards the balcony, posing her so that she was looking out over the side.

“Do not move an inch,” Raphael warned, flying back to his easel. 

“What are you p–” Tav turned her neck in an attempt to look back at Raphael.

Snap! 

Tav was forced back into place.

Another snap!

And a new, blank canvas appeared in front of Raphael. 

“Not. Even. A. Finger.” He snarled, narrowing his eyes.

Raphael picked up the paintbrush, his fingers trembling as he pondered where to start. He needed to move hastily, the current spectacle could change at any moment.

As he peered up at the little mouse, observing her under the new light, another impulse overtook him. He quickly found himself caught in a tidal wave, swept away from the safety of the shores as he struggled to find something to grab hold of. Spiralling… Suffocating… drowning in Tav’s beauty. 

Tav was glowing under the radiant beams of Avernus, perfectly illuminated from the powerful spotlight. Sheer brilliance. Despite being in the Hells, her very presence suggested angelic beauty. The theatrical side of Raphael immediately put together a narrative, filing it away in his mind for a later use when he was alone; when he had the time to write.

It would be a tragedy for the ages, a fallen celestial, a devious Devil. Falling hopelessly in love despite their damned ancestries…

No matter how brilliant Tav looked in that moment, her body was still too rigid for the painting. What Raphael needed was a model, not a statue. Nothing felt genuine or realistic with how he had staged her. The lighting would not be able to save this piece alone. Something must be done. Something more.  

Raphael’s eyes moved to Tav’s figure, his gaze carefully caressing every inch of her, every curve. His chest ached as he took her in and soon the only thing he could hear were the throbbing sounds of his heart. 

Something cracked in his hand, piercing his palm. He looked down, realising the paintbrush he had been holding was now reduced to splinters. He clenched his bloody fist, turning the shattered paintbrush into ashes…

The Devil could not control himself any longer. 

Raphael stepped away from the canvas, shifting smoothly into his cambion form. He drifted silently towards Tav until he was looming behind her. He lifted his hands, leaving them to hover inches above her shoulders. Finger by finger he started caressing her with his claws, using his digits as he would on the keyboard of a piano. 

Tav shifted her neck, leaning into each touch. Raphael’s temperature rose, the tips of his fingers becoming flames as he continued to softly stroke the little mouse. 

Raphael watched as his movements impacted her, his lips moistening at how she writhed in pleasure wherever he placed his fingers. The veins in her neck pulsated; if he listened close enough, he could just about hear her irregular breaths at the anticipation of his movements. 

The Devil truly had the little mouse in the palm of his hand. These mortals, so easy to entice… 

He continued, grabbing her chin and turning her head so that she was now looking at him. Her pupils dilated as she fixated on his face, those luscious lips parting.

“Raphael…” She began. 

Raphael used the claws from his free hand to pluck the strings of her dress like a harp; they snapped against her skin, the sinful notes filling the silence around them. He proceeded to use the same claws to cut one of the straps in a swift motion. 

“Silence, little mouse. I did not grant you permission to speak.” Raphael teased.

At Raphael’s words Tav gasped, her body shaking. He cut the other strap and it fell loosely against her shoulders. The dress barely moved, still hugging Tav’s body. If anything, it showed more bosom.

No, that was not enough. 

He brought his hands to the base of her neck, using his claws to trace down her body. He began slowly from the collarbone, moving to her shoulders, and then along the edges of her frame. As he went, his claws slashed through the fabric on her upper thigh. He cut more and more of the dress so that her entire leg was bare. 

Tav loosened at his touch, at this newfound freedom, her brows sweating. 

“Don’t you find this r-relationship… rather odd?” Tav murmured. 

“How so?” 

Raphael leaned in closer, so close, they could kiss if either of them moved out of turn. Tav melted, holding on to the balcony railings for support. Her knees quivered as she struggled to keep herself upright. 

The power Raphael had over this mortal was intoxicating. He no longer cared if his heart combusted as it raced alongside Tav’s.

“It’s just… us, I-I… I know you will never truly have feelings for me. And… I suppose that’s fine, I guess.”

Raphael paused, staring intensely at Tav. He sloped forwards, moving towards her neck. He made his breath kiss the side of her nape in his place, sending puffs of hot air that trailed down her spine. He grinned at the goosebumps sprouting on her skin.

“I’ll be sure to let you know when I no longer care for you, little mouse. Will that put your mind at ease?”

Tav bit back a moan, her cheeks flushed as she nodded, desperately trying to hold on to whatever composure she had left. 

Raphael’s eyes widened at the sight before him. The little mouse, always showing nothing but restraint and resilience, now on the verge of collapsing at his very touch. This is what he had been craving to see all along.

This is what he needed to capture.

The Devil breathed slowly in an attempt to keep himself from ravishing her, from tearing the rest of that dress off. Tadpole infested and all, he needed her. Craved her. She belonged to him and he would savour every inch of her. Whether that was in the flesh or by capturing her essence on one canvas after another. 

“Now, be a good little mouse and hold that position...” 

Snap! 

Raphael was back at his easel, a new brush in his hand as he began painting furiously.

This will be his greatest artwork yet.

His greatest conquest. 

#writing #bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #baldurs gate 3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #raphael fanfic #raphael x reader #raphael #raphael bg3 x reader #raphael x tav #tav bg3 #bg3 tav #prompts #asks #thank you

[jacksprostate]

Tyler always liked to pull shit at night. Maybe that's why I went along with it, when he showed up after a month of leaving Paper Street and all its monkeys and me without an owner. Tyler always liked to pull shit at night, so I had become habituated, and when Tyler showed up on a sunny afternoon Sunday with a pickaxe slung long over his shoulder, I didn't interrogate him on where he'd been. Why he left. I didn't want to break the perfect image of his return, and if I'm honest, asking what we were going to be doing as he led me out of the house never crossed my mind.

I usually didn't ask Tyler why we were going to do anything, so maybe that was habituated into me, too.

The reason Tyler came back, I found out, was to tell me I was hopeless. That I was a piece of shit, that I'd never amount to anything, that he had the lowest of expectations and I still couldn't pass muster. He said this as we walked. The voice of my father, all the shit he never outright said.

I told Tyler, What did you expect? You left me.

Maybe I whined it, I don't know. I didn't know what he wanted from me. I still don't.

Tyler said, "I leave for one moment, push baby out the nest, and you crumple. You're a plucked stool-looking pigeon splat on city concrete. You're the roadkill you see on the side of the road, so useless even the vultures ignore you. You regressed."

Where are we going, Tyler? I asked. We were down the road by then, far enough that the space monkeys maintaining the front lawn couldn't see or hear us. I guess Tyler respected me enough to make my discipline private.

Tyler ignored me, as usual, and continued. "I give you one chance to do anything on your own, and you do nothing. You go to work. You go to fight club like it's work, like it's one of your pointless little groups. Like it's hospice. You're so dependent you hang on your own men hoping they'll tell you what to do. I come back and you're wasting away reading Reader's Digest as all the shit I've built for you works its wonders, and you don't even try to join in directing it."

Now, You didn't give me orders, I said. You didn't tell me my part in this, what was I supposed to do?

Tyler rolled his eyes.

"Do you think you're too good for it? You need your own hand delivered invitation?"

No, I said. Spluttering.

"You had your invitation to join. All you needed to do was anything."

Now here we are. In the middle of the street. If I knew I'd failed all his little tests, maybe I would've said no when he showed back up. I want to laugh at the idea of it, but I'm too busy trying to figure out what my punishment will be.

Tyler lets the pickaxe fall. The noise it makes hitting the asphalt clatters between the warehouses. We're past the paper mill now, and the scent of wood shavings and cancer and ass has been replaced by rot and puke. Off of Paper Street lives a processing plant for all the unloved rejects of the supermarket. Recalled, expired, unneeded. Working a place like this, you lose your sense of smell in days. The hairs in your nose fall out and your tongue turns black. Eggs three months old. Fruit like black leather. Baked goods more mold than wheat. They grind it up and feed it down the drains. Sometimes, when there's a storm so big it floods the entire basement, noxious sludge escapes the toilet and sinks at the house. All the colors of the rainbow, consistency somewhere between cottage cheese and blended rotten meat.

For a moment, I stare transfixed as Tyler rolls his shoulders, sweat glistening on them like the first day I ever saw him.

He says, "Take a step back."

I do.

Tyler flips the pickaxe point-down, leverages it into a hole on the manhole cover I'd been standing on, and pulls it out and to the side in one smooth move. Fight club has always been better than the gym.

Looking down, the stench makes the air wave like heat. There's a rusted ladder half broken on the side of the hole. About eight feet down lies everything which should be getting shipped to a biodigester, couched in human shit and vomit and whatever else the processing plant produces.

Suddenly, I realize the disease that's everywhere now may be the least of my concerns. Tyler's hand is on my shoulder.

Tyler says, "Consider it a more direct test of faith."

When Tyler pushes me, it's not that I didn't know it was going to happen. I did. As soon as he opened up the manhole, I knew what was going to happen. I didn't run. I knew I couldn't. I braced myself and fell flat over the hole, and I felt what had to be one of my vertebrae crack. I felt the road eat at my arms and face.

"You think you're shit, you want to rot away," Tyler says. He circles me. I reach out to crawl away, he steps on my hand. "Fine. Rot with everything else."

He kicks at my side. My kidneys. My stomach. My ribs. I'm curling in on myself before I know it, my spine is screaming. I am screaming. I'm curling up, fetal, drooping into oppressive warmth. Back to the womb.

A moment of vertigo, and I've fallen out of the nest for real. Baby bird, splat in the sewers.

I am filth.

I can feel chunks between my fingers.

I fell, and the top of my head ricocheted. I'm used to it ringing. My blood drips in my hair along with something else.

A film is crawling over me. It's hard to breathe. The air hurts. I'm retching, I'm contributing.

I look up, and Tyler is there. Total eclipse of the sun.

He says, "Crawl out yourself. I'm done fixing things for you."

I can't see his face. I'm getting every disease on the planet, and it's a warm sunny day.

He says, "You have all the chances. It's about time you take them."

#fight club #my writing #Tyler is sick of this guy's shit yk

[ladylooch]

The Captain's Girl - [Lucie x Connor]

A/N: Happy Sunday! Look at who wrote a full fic this morning! Could not resist bringing Lucie and Connor to their smutty and soft past time. Connor may be the captain of an OG NHL team, but nothing compares to being Lucie's man.

From this request.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: 18+ Content below

Lucie Wood watches from the front of the restaurant as her husband takes a long sip of his cold beer. The warmth of the southern California sunshine washes over her back and shoulders, peaking out from her sundress. Leaving winter behind on the East Coast means soaking in as much vitamin D as she can get for her short stay. The Rangers will be here for three more days with the timing of both off and game days. It was the perfect time for her and the girls to surprise her husband.

Across the patio table from him is David, who purposefully has his back to the door so Connor can watch his wife’s approach in a few moments. But right now, Lucie is content studying him from afar. She’s worried about him. He’s been so stressed out at the rink and at home. The Rangers need to turn things around quickly if they are going to make the playoffs. Despite there being 19 other guys on the team, Connor Wood thinks if he puts the team on his shoulders alone, he will get them to the finish line. Lucie’s gentle redirects have been met with eye rolls and ‘you don’t understand’ from her husband. 

She is going to show him exactly how much she understands these next few days by forcing him to relax. 

Mack and David are helping too. David worked with Lucie to grab the flights that made the most sense to optimize their time. Mack is here to take care of the girls for her when Lucie is otherwise pre-disposed with her husband, like right now and later when she’s riding him like the cowboy he wants to be. 

A waitress approaches the table with two large bowls. She sets them each in front of the men. Connor smiles politely, then turns down to his food, completely missing the eye fucking she does to him before walking away. Lucie smiles. After all this time, Connor still only has eyes for her. 

She pushes off from the brick wall she had been leaning against and begins her saunter across the restaurant. She maneuvers around staff and other patrons, then takes a direct angle to her husband. He looks up when she is three tables away, then pauses his chewing. His eyebrows furrow before he glances between David and Lucie.

“Oh my god, are you Connor Wood?” She drawls exaggeratedly. “I’m your biggest fan.”

“You should be after the two babies I gave you.” He jokes, standing up to hug her. He engulfs her completely, pressing his nose into her hair immediately. It’s a minute before he attempts to pull away from her. The restaurant bobs and weaves around them as Lucie rubs his strong back over his shirt. “Love you.” He whispers. He pulls away to kiss her tenderly. “You look stunning.” He compliments, taking in her soft green dress. It makes her brown eyes pop, complimented by the blue ocean behind her. 

“I love you too.” She sighs, hugging him one more time. Then she turns to David. “Hi!”

“Crazy seeing you here, Luc.” They all laugh at that.

“Sorry Mack isn’t here. Winnie finally crashed for a nap and we had to take advantage of that.”

“No worries. She told me.” David shrugs. “You want some food?” He grabs the menu he kept back for her.

“You can share with me, baby.” Connor offers, moving the chair to his right out for her to sit in. He scoots her back in, dropping one more kiss on her hair. She looks over at his plate seeing a hearty steak salad. It looks good, but he needs to eat all of that to keep his calorie count up.

“I’ll grab something for myself. Thank you though.” She assures him.

“Are you sure? Here just have a little bit.” He shoves his plate to her.

“Babe, I’m fine. I bet you’re starving.” He gives her a look. He doesn’t like eating before her or when she isn’t eating. “Eat, Connor.” She says firmly, sliding her hand to his thigh. His eyes dance down her face and over her cleavage. He smirks, then picks his fork up with a promise they both know: he’ll eat her later.

Lucie orders fish tacos and a mango margarita that has her buzzing after one sip. After Connor finishes eating, he wraps an arm around her shoulders. His fingers coyly play with the spaghetti strap of her dress, eventually his fingers glide it off her shoulder. Lucie moves to put it back into place, but Connor bats her hand away, collecting her fingers in his off her shoulder. Lucie glances at David who looks out at the Pacific Ocean, watching the waves roll into the beach. 

“I think I’m gonna walk down to the beach.” David says, sucking down the rest of his water. “Wait for Mack down there.”

“Okay. I’ll go grab the girls from her when we get back to the hotel.”

“No worries. I think she is gonna bring the girls down when they wake up. Sounds like Stella fell asleep too. We will take care of them. You two have fun.” The slight smirk on his face tells Lucie he knows exactly where her and Connor are heading after lunch. “Send me a request for this.” He circles the table alluding to his meal.

“All good.” Connor waves him off. 

“We can afford it.” Lucie assures David.

“I bet with that captain salary.” He chuckles, then heads off the patio to the stairs leading down to the beach.

The second he is gone, Connor’s face is nuzzling Lucie’s neck. She sighs heavenly, fingers threading through his hair. She turns her face to his head, kissing along his dark curls. 

“You ‘bout done?”

“Mhm.” She confirms. Connor lifts one hip off the chair, pulling his wallet out. He tosses his card down, then goes back to focusing on his wife. Her hair is blowing in the sea breeze, scattering brown strands about her beautiful face. Her brown eyes are dewey and lustful, lips pink and begging to be plumped by his. He leans down, doing just that, not even recognizing when the waitress leaves and comes back with the completed bill. If she spoke to them, neither of them notice. 

Connor signs the slip, then threads his fingers with Lucie’s, pulling her out of her chair. They walk hand in hand to the hotel, neither of them needing to communicate where they are going. The whole walk back, wetness pools and settles into Lucie’s panties from imagining what her husband is going to do with her in private. While waiting for the elevator, she presses her lips to his big bicep, running her nose along the lines of his tattoo sleeve that peak out from the soft cotton fabric. Connor brings their laced hands forward to her stomach, stroking his thumb down from her belly button to the V of her thighs. Lucie shakes against him as Connor smirks, a light chuckle shaking his arm against her face.

“30 seconds?” He asks, referring to how fast she is going to come undone in his hands. They step into the elevator, Connor pressing the floor to his room.

“Maybe.” She grins, dimples piercing her cheeks. Connor leans down, kissing each one of the slits then her lips. His tongue darts along her bottom lip, savoring the hint of tequila there. His hand glides from her lower back to the back of her neck, cradling her head as he makes out with her. The ding of the elevator stopping barely makes an impression with the couple.

“Y’all maybe wanna get out?” Mack asks from the door. 

“Daddy!” Stella screams. 

“Baby!” Connor grins, leaning down to capture his little girl in a hug. Winnie squeaks from Mack’s arms, almost tumbling from her aunt with how fast she reaches for her dad. 

“We are going to the beach! Are you comin’?”

“We will come in a little bit. Mommy and I have to do some adult things first.” Connor says pointedly. He loves Stella, but she is not cockblocking him right now.

“Oh, that’s not fun.” Stella frowns.

“Ah… yeah.” Connor chuckles, then stands to his full height. “Be good for auntie.” He encourages her after giving a kiss to Winnie’s head. Mack steps in. “I’d hug ya but…” His clear hard-on cannot be hidden by anything except his wife’s body as she moves to shield him.

“How about later?” Mack laughs, then gives a wave to them before the doors close and they head down to the lobby. 

Ravenously, Connor grips the back of Lucie’s thighs, hauling her over his shoulder.

“Gotta get you into this room before anything else comes up.”

“Connor, my dress is too short for this.” He reaches up, palming her bare ass with a greedy paw.

“Nah, it’s perfect, baby.” He murmurs. His fingers slide easily under her white panties, stroking her soaked folds. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He groans. They get to the door of his room. He drops her onto her feet in front of him, then fishes in his pocket for his key fob. He barely gets the door open before he is shoving Lucie inside.

Lucie runs across the room, then turns just in time to catch her husband in her arms before falling onto her back on the bed. She brings her legs up, shoes and all, wrapping them around his waist. Connor ruts into her heat, chasing her hips to grown the burning need between them. Connor’s lips press into hers hurriedly, tongue lapping up every drop of her he can get. When he needs air, he pulls away, looking down at her beneath him.

“Lucie.” He gasps torturously. “You are so fucking beautiful, baby. Takes my damn breath away every time I see you.” Lucie giggles, biting her bottom lip as her fingers drift down to his waistband. 

“Wanna taste you today.” She insists. Connor pulls his shirt over his head by grabbing a fist full of the fabric between his shoulder blades. Lucie whimpers when she sees him fully. “Mine. All mine.” She moans. 

Lucie works her way up to sitting, but Connor halts her, slipping each of her thin dress straps down her arms. The fabric of her dress falls away, revealing perky breasts with hard peaks in the middle. He rubs his calloused palms over them, illicitly a loud moan from her. She wiggles on the bed, needing some friction against her throbbing clit. Connor smirks, then backs away so she can get on her knees in front of him. He gathers her hair in his hand, watching her use his cock as lipstick. Her motion smears his pre-cum across her lips. Then her tongue comes out to taste it. 

Connor’s mouth drops open in pleasure as she finally glides her tongue over his red head. Lucie sighs passionately, then takes him into her mouth in one swoop.

“Fuck.” Connor hisses when he hits the back of her throat. “Luc.” He moans her name as she strokes his shaft in her hand then glides him further in.  His balls tighten immediately at the feeling of her wet mouth expanding to accommodate him. “Jesus.” He sighs, relaxing his grip on her hair. His other hand drifts down to her left breast, rolling the nipple in his fingers. Lucie floats a hand down between her legs, circling her clit while letting his hips press insistently into her mouth until he is setting the tempo.

“Gotta stop.” Connor says, puling out of her mouth. He holds his hands out to her. He grabs the hand that she had been using to play with herself, sliding those fingers in his mouth as she watches. 

“I need you to fuck me right now. I can’t wait. Please.” 

“Asking so nicely.” He coos to her, wrapping a large hand around her neck to bring her close. He crashes their lips together, tongue stroking along hers as he maneuvers her back towards the bed. Lucie feels for the mattress with one hand, not letting her mouth leave his. Connor gets her sitting in front of him, then kicks off his pants and underwear. He leans down, kisses along her collar bone until his fingers can work the zipper of her dress down. He helps her wiggle out of it, being careful not to rip it even though he fucking wants to. The pretty dress falls to the floor with his discarded clothes. Then he collects her panties, exposing her dripping core to him completely. 

He doesn’t waste any time, mouth on her pussy without even dropping her panties from his hand. His other fingers come up, swirling her entrance before stuffing into her. She is more than ready, already arching off the bed, begging him for more from her swollen lips.

“Baby, please, I want your cock. Right now.”

“Yeah? That why you flew 3,000 miles to me?”

“Yes!” She exhales as he curls his fingers up, putting harder pressure on her spongey insides. “Fuck.” She wails, quivering already. As much as his dick begs to be inside of her, he wants her  to come this way first. His mouth settles over her enlarged bud, rolling it with his tongue and sucking it into his mouth. Lucie shouts. Connor does this again, then feels her release drip-down his fingers, collecting in his palm. He doesn’t stop, sucking every wave of her orgasm into his mouth. When she hits the point of almost too much, he backs off.

“Good girl, Luc.” He praises her, looking at the mess they made of her folds. He bites his lip, then hooks his arms under her hips, pulling her to the edge of the bed. Lucie wildly grapples for his shoulders, collecting them in her palms as he stroke his cock through her wet slit. He pushes in, both of them finding intense pleasure in the stretch of her around him. Connor rests his hands on either side of her waist, then begins to build his pumps into her. Their wet connection fills the room, creating an erotic ambiance in the unknown space. Lucie’s finger tips start pressing deeper into his skin.

“Use your words.” He reminds her.

“More. I need so much more.” 

Connor collapses onto his forearms, dropping his head to the bed beside hers and fucking deep into her. His consistent snaps into her hips have Lucie rolling away from the intensity. One of his arms slides under her back, pinning her to his chest to hold her in place.

“Don’t ask for more then run from it. Give in, baby. Let it take you.” He growls into her ear.

“Ohmygod. Oh. My….” Lucie trails off. Everything stills in her body except for the slight flutter of her walls. Connor turns, sucking at the sweet spot on her neck. Her inner walls collapse around him like a clam, causing him to collapse deeper into his fucks.

“Oh damn, Luc. Yes, baby. Feel so fuckin good. So wet and tight, baby. Love your pretty pussy.” Connor’s hips keep pistoning, closing his eyes and savoring how incredible his wife feels right now. She’s soaked through, dripping down his cock to his balls. She never wants him to stop. “You got one more for me, beautiful?”

“Yes.” She moans into his ear. “But look at me.” She begs him. “I want you to know it’s me making you feel this good.”

“Holy fuck.” He groans. “I know it’s you, baby. Nothing ever felt this good until you.” Lucie grins, tugging his face to hers by the back of his neck. 

“Yeah? Never had pussy this tight?” 

“Oh my god. No. Or a mouth this filthy.” He groans, then licks across her open mouth. He adjusts her legs, wrapping one around his waist and bringing one heel up to rest on his shoulder.

“Right there.” Lucie begs, “Please, baby don’t stop. Love your cock, Con.” Connor’s hands grip her hips tighter, making Lucie pulse under his skin. “More.” She demands. Connor almost crumbles at the sound of her begging for all that he can give to her. 

His balls slapping her ass fills the room. Lucie’s hands drift off Connor’s shoulders. One goes to her breast and the other to her clit, rolling both in tempo with his pumps into her pussy. 

“Mmm, you’re so gorgeous. I’m so close.” He tells her. “Wanna fill you up, baby.” 

“Please. Need to wear you on my thighs to the beach. So everyone knows who I belong to.”

“Fuck.” That will do it. He groans then unloads into her, jerky pumps as she climaxes for a third time immediately after him, pulsing her walls to pull him in deeper. His sensitive tip hisses as she milks every drop from him. “Damn.” He sighs to the ceiling, locking his knees to keep from swaying backwards. He looks back down at his wife, seeing her with pretty pink cheeks and swollen lips. Her eyes are dark chocolate pools when her hands reach for him again. He gently eases out of her, then presses his palms on both sides of her head. He smooches her softly, letting her tongue into his mouth for a full taste of each other. 

“Mmm, be right back.” He assures her, kissing down her chin and throat, ending between her breasts. 

Lucie releases his arms from her hands, dropping her heels from the bed so her feet dangle off the side. Water runs in the bathroom from her husband. He comes back clean, then works Lucie’s thighs apart, stroking her used core clean too. He looks up at her face.

“You serious about having me at the beach?”

“Mhm.” She nods. “Want you to see me in my new bikini knowing that.”

“Mack is taking those kids tonight again.” He murmurs, then collects the white cum slipping out of her onto his fingers. He slides the mess back inside of her, slowly drags his finger back out. “So sexy, Luc.” He smiles, practically drooling at the sight of her walls collapsing in to pull it all deeper again. “Luckiest guy in the world.” He mumbles against her public bone, kissing her a final time. He lays down next to her, letting the used towel hit the floor. He turns his wife onto her side, then cups her cheek with his hand. “Can’t really tell you how much this means to me that you’re here.”

“I already know.” She responds. “We miss you too, babe.”

“I’m so stressed.” He admits. “I can barely breathe some nights. It’s worse when I’m away from you.” Lucie knows this. It’s why she is here.

“I’m worried about you.” She sighs, running her fingers along the tattoo on his left pectoral with hers and the girls first initials in her loopy handwriting. “You are putting way too much pressure on yourself.”

“I want to succeed.” Connor says.

“I get that. But hockey is a team sport, Con.” She reminds him softly. “It’s not only up to you.” 

“I know. But, they picked me to lead this team for a reason. I don’t want to let them down.” Lucie smiles.

“You’re the heartbeat of this team, babe. On and off the ice. But you’re going to lose that if you don’t learn a balance. Maybe leading by example is the first start. Hold yourself accountable for your play. When things don’t go your way, commit to doing better the next opportunity. Others will do the same.” Connor watches her lips as she talks.

“You make it sound so simple… and so sexy.” He kisses her bottom lip.

“Well, I was raised by a captain. Who I bet would be willing to listen if you need another perspective.” Connor sighs, nodding.

“I should call your dad.”

“Probably.” Lucie murmurs into this lips. “And we should probably get to the beach soon. Take care of our kids for a bit before we give them back to Mack for the night.”

Connor and Lucie peel themselves apart. Connor puts his board shorts on, then they head to Lucie and the girls’ room for her to put her beach things on. Connor is tying her bikini strings together in silence. Lucie watches him in the mirror across the room. 

“What’s up?” She asks, gripping his wrist.

“I’m not failing you and the girls, right?”

“No.” Lucie shakes her head. “Not even close. You’re perfect, babe. Always have been.” Connor drops his mouth to her shoulder, kissing across it to the back of her neck. 

“Okay. I never wanna let you down, Luc.”

“I know. You’re so good to us, babe. Don’t worry about us. We are great, okay?” He nods, then wraps his arms around her stomach, holding her close. They sway slightly together. 

“None of this means anything to me without you by my side.” He whispers. “I love you.” Lucie turns to capture his lips.

“I love you too.” He kisses her again. “Let’s go smooch our babies.”

Connor grins back at her, then laces their fingers together for a lazy, content walk to the beach.

Read more of Lucie and Connor here.

#lucie x connor #lio & lucie #hockey writing #NHL imagine #NHL fan fiction

[sleeplesssmoll]

Smoltin has me on a chokehold rn so can i ask you this

Smoltin and madam z headcannons?

IT'D BE MY PLEASURE!

Be warned, all my HCs are just fanfic ideas that I kept caged in my noggin. They're more like drabbles!

First Contact

Madam Z first met Smoltin after the frog incident. She was intrigued when she heard a student experienced the Storm and suffered no consequences. She asked to meet the child one on one since she didn't want to intimidate her.

She wasn't sure what to expect, but a frog was definitely not on her list. Vertin begged her not to tell anyone after it hopped out of her pocket. She wanted to show it to her friend first. Madam Z helped her catch it, surprising the little girl. She gently handed the frog to her and told her to be more careful. She kept Vertin's secret. This is their first secret amongst the many they'll share in the future, but neither of them knew that at the time.

And after Vertin was deemed fine, they sent her to time-out on the hourglass where she eagerly awaited for her friend to finish class.

While in the main Story, Madam Z mentions Vertin as the “a girl named Vertin” to Constantine, they both knew exactly who she was talking about. That Vertin that caught their eye since she stuck her arm into the Storm and remained unharmed. I think they kept tabs on Smoltin.

Mug

Madam Z has a special mug with her face on it. It was actually a gift from Smoltin. Vertin also brings her back tea from her travels for Madam Z. Madam Z saves those for her bad days when she needs to lift her spirits. When Vertin was forced into a coma, she finished her entire collection.

A Mother's Instinct

Sonetto was promoted because of her hard work. However, her assignment to Vertin was a calculated move by Madam Z. She knew Vertin was up to something (sneakily recruiting arcanists) but she didn't know what. By assigning her an assistant who happened to be their ace, she's telling Vertin she has an eye on her. However, she also knows that whatever Vertin is up to, Sonetto is more than capable of protecting her. While the two have a complicated history, they're friends. They'll look after each other.

In other words, she's not trying to get in Vertin's way but she wants her to be more careful and honest.

Coats

One of the reasons Vertin loves coats and jackets is because the women she admires in her life (Madam Z and Tooth Fairy) also wear them. Her perfect posture, her elegant mannerisms, she does her best to reflect the values they taught her. Tooth Fairy was quick to correct her posture and Madam Z can't stand wrinkly uniforms. You can wear whatever you want but respect your clothes and belongings.

She'll roll around on the grass with the kids but the suit will be washed and pressed afterwards.

Echoes

Madam Z, Constantine, and Tooth Fairy all see echoes of each other in Vertin. Madam Z sees Tooth Fairy's sense of humor and her compassion. Tooth Fairy sees Madam Z's empathy and sharp mind. It also makes them appreciate each other more. However, when she gets into trouble, one of them will say "she learned that from you!" As for her charisma...they have no idea where this Critter chasing child got it from.

Constantine sees Madam Z in the way Vertin carries herself and she hates it. The way Vertin crosses her legs and drinks her tea. The way comes up with logical solutions without ignoring their emotional consequences. The gentle way she talks and the subtle head shakes and nods she does when speaking.

Vertin is supposed to be a pawn, not a player.

Golden Years

During her training as Timekeeper, Madam Z traveled alongside Smoltin as her mentor. While she liked the quiet of her lab, spending time with Vertin and watching her grow up are remembered as some of the best years of her life. Meanwhile, Constantine thinks of them as some of her worst because no one can do anything right and her best employee was nowhere around to help her.

And she was bored.

Camera

Madam Z wasn't into photography, but after Vertin became the Timekeeper she learned as much as she could so she could teach Vertin. It also became a bonding experience for them. On that note, her favorite subject to photograph was Smoltin, like a parent who's chasing after their kid with a camera. She even demanded copies of Vertin's baby photos (Vertin was taken in at 1 month old and they took pictures to monitor her development). Constantine approved her request, but she didn't understand why Madam Z wanted such a thing. However, it's rare for Madam Z to ask her for things so she obliged.

Motorcycle

Some of the Foundation soldiers have really cool, arcanum based motorcycles. An enthusiastic Investigator chatted Smoltin's ear off about his motorcycle Vertin eagerly listened like always. Madam Z nearly spat out her tea when Vertin asked if she'd get one too someday.

Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur! 

Smoltin was used as a heat-pack during their field mission in colder environments. The Investigators with them found it hilarious since Madam Z refused to let go of Vertin during a majority of the mission and she's not known to be a touchy person. Smoltin excelled at her temperature training though and didn't mind the cold or the hugs.

Food

Madam Z taught Vertin how to cook eggs in every possible way since they are the most versatile protein. Both of them suck at cooking but they make great eggs. Madam Z also eats uncooked ramen like chips by sprinkling the flavor packet inside the package and shaking it. Vertin learned this from her too, much to her dismay. Tooth Fairy can't stand them. She wishes they'd eat something with more nutrition in it, like sliced fruit or something. This is where the Fruit Critters from this post come in! Vertin also learned how to use chopsticks from Madam Z and taught Regulus and Sonetto how to use them too.

Friendly Competition

Madam Z may be a scientist, but she's still active! She and Vertin used to play ping pong against each other. The winner decided what they were having for dinner and the loser had to do the dishes. Vertin usually lost, but she definitely posed a challenge as she got quicker and predicted her opponent's moves. Vertin also prefers Go over chess, which is another game they played.

Crush

Kat introduced them to her niece who was planning on joining the St. Pavlov in the future. She was only a year older than Vertin. Madam Z had to nudge her apprentice to remind to stop staring. Vertin has a tendency to compare pretty girls to creatures she likes (Sonetto is an emerald eyed puppy, Schneider was a delicate dove. I'm basing this idea off of these very specific instances lol). She knew Vertin was getting caught up in a pretty face again the moment Vertin compared her to a sugar glider. The two became friends pretty quickly.

Pictures and Postcards

Madam Z keeps every letter and postcard Vertin sends.

I also wrote this a while back! It got lost in the Tumblr abyss but it's about Vertin noticing Sotheby growing and she goes to Madam Z and Tooth Fairy for advice.

#reverse 1999 #vertin #ask #madam z #constantine just low-key jealous Vertin has all her bestie's attention

[meetinginsamarra]

mayprompts2024, #27 jealousy

Chapters 1 to 3 here on AO3

If you like the tattoo AU give it some love on my AO3, please. It would mean a lot to me. TYSM!

+++++

White Pony Tattoo - Part Seven (jealousy)

When both of them had calmed down from all the laughter, Sherlock clapped his hands on his thighs and leant forward in his chair.

“Let’s talk about your cover-up.”

“Please, do.” John fixed all of his attention on Sherlock.

“First of all, whose idea was it to get a tattoo?”

“Oh, that was me. I wanted something of her to last. Something to show how serious it was for me, our marriage. You know, til death do us part, kind of.”

Sherlock hummed but was clearly not impressed by this reason.

“And whose idea was it to put her face on a Virgin Mary image? She has not actually been a virgin when you’ve met, right?”

“Well, no.” John blushed. “It was her idea. Because, you know, her first name was Mary and she thought it was a great...” John trailed off, sighing then looking at Sherlock who thankfully kept his mouth shut but was slowly turning his head in an unmistakable “no”.

Defensively, John added, “It wasn’t, in hindsight, okay?”

“It’s never been right from the start.”

John rolled his eyes. “You just needed to say it out loud, didn’t you?”

“She proposed that you tattoo her face on your arm to make a statement. A clear mark that you’ve been taken, by her. She wanted that the other women and men,” Sherlock winked knowingly at John who merely snorted, “become jealous of her. Look at my prize! It’s mine and mine alone! Possessive behaviour at its best.”

Again, in hindsight, that makes so much sense. John thought ruefully.

Sherlock continued, ignoring the distressed expression on John’s face.

“At least, your tattooist has done quite a good job, technically. No blurring, no wonky lines, no blotchy shading. Good placement of the design, too. Matching the natural contours of your upper arm. Which makes a cover-up much easier.”

“Good. I really want to get rid of this.”

Sherlock stood up. “Come on, John. I’ll explain my process to you.” He opened the purple curtain, holding it open for John to pass through into the room behind.

It housed the actual tattoo studio. The first thing John noticed was that everything in this room was high-end.

The recliner seat for the clients, the worktable with Sherlock’s tools, shelves with bottles of ink, needles and at least five different tattoo guns. Everything was also clinically clean. One corner of the room was occupied by a tiny but professional photo studio, including spotlights and an expensive looking camera on a tripod. There was another worktable with a state-of-the-art computer setup.

“Take off your jumper and stand in front of the camera. This is a special camera with a 3D software. It’ll scan your arm and every line of the tattoo in high-res and send the data to an image generating software on my computer. This way, I can design the perfect phoenix for you, one that will match and cover or even use the lines you already have without any optical distortion.”

“Wow, that’s, Jesus, that is quite elaborate.” John gaped. “All this for a cover-up?”

“No, it’s what I do with all of my clients. It’s the only way to achieve the perfection I desire.”

“Brilliant.” John looked at Sherlock, full of awe. “Extraordinary.”

Sherlock blinked. “Really?”

“Of course, all the effort you put into this!”

Sherlock ruffled his curls, obviously abashed. He turned his head to hide the pinkish blush that had started to spread on his sharp cheekbones and mumbled something unintelligible while he rummaged uselessly around in a drawer.

But John had already seen it.

For all of his aggressive seductive behaviour, could it be that he gets shy when someone genuinely praises and appreciates his process? John mused. A bit ‘all bark but no bite’ under this self-assured demeanour and abrasive personality? I’d really like to to have a photo of this blushing Sherlock, it’s adorable.

The next ten minutes went by in silence, only interrupted when Sherlock told John how to turn and place his arm in front of the camera.

“How long will it take until you’ve got the final design?”

“At least a week. The next days are packed with clients. Also, there’s something else to my process, about creating the perfect ink which takes some time as well.”

John was struck by another question. One that John had not yet thought to ask which might possibly come across as pretty stupid now.

“Erm, we haven’t talked about what you charge for all of this.” Can I even afford this? Him?

“Oh, silly me!” Sherlock exclaimed theatrically. “I forgot to mention that you have to sign a contract in blood and sell your soul.”

“Dork!” John playfully punched Sherlock against the shoulder. “Don’t pull my leg.”

“Ah, don’t look so frightened, John. You can afford my services. I charge my clients depending on their wealth, you know? I helped a disfigured young man for the price of a bottle of ink and I had a rich investment banker pay me 600 pounds an hour. I’m not going to rob you blind.”

“Ta.” Relief flooded John, then he remembered Sherlock’s last remark. “What’s that about the ink?”

“Yes, right.” Sherlock’s voice got excited. “Do you want to see something really special? A secret?”

“Oh, God, yes.”

++++++

tagging some people @totallysilvergirl @peageetibbs @lisbeth-kk  @raina-at  @calaisreno

#mayprompts2024 #number 27 jealousy #my sherlock fanfics #white pony tattoo AU #no beta we die like (wo)men

[thegodthief]

Did a little thing for a spirit and had a little chat with that spirit and asked for a little help with a little thing. Spirit said it didn't have anything for me right then but pay attention because something might come up later.

Cool.

Later on in the week, I'm driving to work and it's raining so all the windows are rolled up and I'm snug in my coat so the heat isn't on and for once I haven't been eating in the car so it's pretty neutral in there and suddenly, there is a smell.

Smells like Spirit.

It's not offensive nor overwhelming. If the car wasn't neutral, I would have missed it. It was subtle and indescribable. But the scent, now perceived, was unmistakable.

Spirit is present.

And then I had a Thought™.

It was a thought that if it had come to me in any other way, I would have dismissed it as magical thinking in all the wrong way. Too fanciful. Too aggressive. Would require more free time than I have available. Stars are not aligned. Not today. Nope.

But it was clear that this Thought™, wasn't my thought, but the Spirit's Thought™. A What-If. I could come up with a hundred ways why this wasn't a good idea, but the Spirit only came up with one why it was.

"You can do this."

The Spirit and its attendant scent dissipated and the car was as it was before.

Well. Okay. I suppose I could just try. Like, if I just tackle the task as presented, and let that finish on its own terms, then who knows what could follow. If nothing followed, well, at least that bit of work is done. But...

What If...

I got to work and did as work requires. At my first break, I closed the door and got to work on the What-If. In that short fifteen minutes, I had the framework set down for the initial What-If and the follow-up work that it implied.

At lunch, I worked on the What-If some more. Still holding to the initial idea as dropped by the Spirit, the application of the idea caused some threads to straighten and some threads to be snipped but by lunch, the What-If was transforming into a Just-About.

While waiting at the end of the day for a work-thing review, I worked more on the What-If-Becoming-Just-About and all but finished the setup. If I stop now, then nothing changes.

It will take me about 500 words to complete the task and transform the What-If into This-Now.

I had asked the Spirit to help me with a blockage in my life. And in a fashion that fills me with glee, the Spirit helped me by giving me a push in a direction that had little friction in hindsight.

I suppose that's to be expected considering all the shenanigans I have begun and have had begun upon me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I do want to finish that matter while I still have the momentum in me.

While I am still able to begin at the end.

#When it rolls out it will make perfect sense. #But until then... make of that... what you may.

[skys-haunted]

the current days of mischief situation isn’t abt cosmetics really. its about the history of dodgy communication and sketchy behavior from That Game Company towards its playerbase

#sky beta #tgc critical #we don't need cosmetics to play the game and there's more to the game than dress up yeah #im willing to bet folks arent mad that they have to pay money for a popular item (it makes perfect sense) #folks are mad because the company is purposefully miscommunicating to them to get away with asking for more quick cash #and when the company gets called out on it they act like we simply didn't get the memo #its not just cosmetics its been going on with in-game features and updates #beta testers aren't even beta testing because their feedback falls on deaf ears all the time #and that feels bad! people dont like being ignored manipulated and gaslighted #and it looks bad on the company too!! people aren't mad that tgc is trying to make a profit off their game thats perfectly reasonable #i couldn't care less if tgc rolls another event around and 90% of the content is behind a paywall #ftp players already have access to the entire core game its ok if we're less than an afterthought sometimes #whats not ok is the blatant greed and disregard for its entire userbase

[voguewoozi]

i've officially completed my txt discography collection and now moving on to the daunting task of collecting the svt discography.......

#literally hybe acquired pledis for what? to not reprint albums older than 2019? #and i feel so many svt albums being out of print doesn't even make sense given how popular they are like. you could be making money off me #instead im contemplating giving an ebay user $65 for one rock and roll disc #I don't want to panic buy and im not going to but album scarcity in kpop gets me so mad like hybe can absolutely afford to do major reprint #idk why people act like hybe is some special perfect kpop company theyre pretty useless when it comes to knowing what fans actually want #im talking again

[yan-maid-cafe]

Yandere Imposter

Imagine a yandere that pretends to be someone else...

You and your husband hadn't been close in years. A rotten drunkard that spent all day rotting away on the couch. When the two of you got married, you genuinely thought things would be perfect, he was such a sweet guy. But things just went downhill from there.

He was a sleeze bag. Spending all day drinking and refusing to work. Forcing you to get a job to support you both, but he couldn't even bother being somekind of househusband. No, he expected you to get off of work clean the house for him and still cook him dinner everyday. You felt more like his mother than his wife. And it was getting on your last nerve.

So imagine your surprise when you walk into the house one day, the smell of cheap booze and cigarette smoke gone. Instead replaced with the smell of soup?

The place was oddly spotless as you made your way into the kitchen, and there standing at the stove was your husband. Wearing an apron as he stirred the food in the pot. It was unnerving, if you knew anything about your husband it was that he refused to even step foot in the kitchen unless it was to eat. As if sensing your presence, he quickly turned around a smile spreading on his face. Was it just you or were his teeth whiter than usual?

Walking over he wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug, burying his face into your neck. A look of happiness on his face as he held you close.

"I'm so happy you're finally home, Dear. I went ahead and made dinner, you just go sit down and I'll be right over."

Since when had he called you pet names? You couldn't help but check his tempature, wondering if he was running a fever of somekind. Why else would he be acting so out of character suddenly. But he simply laughed off your worry and ushered you towards your seat. Immediantly serving you dinner with a blissful smile, a smile you had never seen on his face. You were so confused...

The night just continued on like that. One weird occurance after another. It felt like you were with a stranger, someone nothing like your husband yet identical to him. You felt like you were going mad, until night eventually came. Bringing you to bed, you and your husband lied down together. Except unlike everynight since your honeymoon, he pulled you closer. Snuggled up next to you as he whispered softly in your ear, almost bringing tears to your eyes.

"I'm so sorry for the way things have been all these years. You never deserved any of it. But as long as I'm here, I'll treat you perfect..."

Edan had always hated his brother. Despite looking identical, they couldn't have been more different. And it felt like his brother was always out to make his life difficult. If Edan got on the football team, his brother was the quaterback. If Edan got a B, his brother got an A. If Edan got honor roll, his brother got valedictorian. And eventually when Edan felt like he had met his soulmate his dear brother had to marry them. He could never win. It was all too much.

Especially when Edan began to take a closer look into the life his brother had stolen away from him. He was disgusted. Working his beloved like a dog day and night. Treating them as nothing more than a servant meant to do whatever was demanded of them, not giving them the life they deserved. The day he snapped came when he saw his beloved leave for work, continuing to stay near the house. He watched as his brother stepped out of the house hours later, walking over to one of the neighboring apartment doors and knocked on it. A scantily clad individual opening the door and ushering him inside. He saw red...

How foolish did that idiot have to be. Stealing away the life that Edan deserved, only to not even appreciate it. He got the privilege to lay beside perfection every night, and he still ran into the arms of some worthless harlot. He couldn't stand it. His beloved didn't deserve this mistreatment, and his brother didn't deserve their love. But what was he supposed to do about it...

He had never been so happy that the two were identical...

All it took was a little makeover and a swap of IDs for the two to look the exact same again. Now if he was ever found, Edan would be dead. He had to clean up all the blood from the floor, he might have gone a bit overboard but years of hatred and frustration will do that to a person.

But it was all worth it in this moment. Holding his beloved close to his chest as the two lay together, it was a dream come true. Burying his face in their hair, he continued to whisper to them, arms wrapped tightly around their body so that they couldn't get up. They never had to know.

" You'll get the life you deserve. We'll both get the lives we deserve, no matter what..."

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere imposter #yandere oc #female reader #fem reader

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

From the request HERE

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Only a few more days are left of his short leave and Simon is determined to make every last second count with you. What better way to start the day than buried in between your thighs, helping you wake up by the feeling of his tongue alone and then overstimming you.

Word Count: 4.6 k

Warnings:

The sun has just started to peek itself through the small gap in the blinds covering the window, illuminating the bedroom in enough light that it causes Simon to stir awake with the first signs of life as those brown eyes flutter a few times from the brightness until he comes back into consciousness. Rubbing his bare chest and scratching at the patch of hair on his lower abdomen as he rolls over onto his side to face the other body lying peacefully asleep, his breath hitches at the sight that he’s greeted with. 

Your long eyelashes rest delicately against your cheek, your chest slowly rising and falling with your deep, calm inhales and exhales as you still drift mindlessly through your dreams. The covers that are pulled up to your breasts conceal your naked form lying just underneath and the way they cling to your form allows him to follow the contours of your body through the fabric. You are a fucking picture of peaceful beauty.

Damn, you are so perfect he cannot look away and suddenly there is a tenting forming beneath the covers still wrapped around his lower half. It’s not his fault; how is he supposed to keep himself restrained when this is what he gets to wake up to? An ache situates itself in his chest, a gnawing blooming in his stomach to caress all that flawlessness. It is a hunger that only grows stronger the more he gazes until he is compelled to get up.

There are only so many days left in the short bit of leave he has and he wants to make every single second count. That’s why you both find yourselves naked even as you sleep; he needs his body to memorize the way yours feels against his and he needs to fuck you whenever the moment strikes, so there is no sense in wasting any amount of time with superfluous things when you both are about to go months without seeing one another. And right now that is working to his benefit as he wants to shower you with some extra attention to start the day.

Just a taste won’t hurt, he thinks, knowing full well that once he starts there is no stopping. Just till she wakes up.

He moves out from the warmth at your side as carefully as he can to ensure that his movements don’t wake you, not yet. The blanket slips from his unclothed hips as he shifts up onto his knees and positions himself over you, his hands atop the mattress on either side of your body so that he can push himself down your sleeping form while his lips take advantage of all that uncovered skin. Feathery light kisses trail down across the supple flesh of your breasts and over your soft torso as his hot mouth presses delicately into you in adoration for all this beauty that he gets to have all to himself. 

All these curves, all this smooth, voluptuous skin always ready for him to caress, it is enough to drive him insane.

Muscles ripple through his bare back as he continues down the line of your body, inching slowly so as not to miss any patch of flesh. He is careful not to drag his face too harshly as he goes along so that the stubble on his jaw won’t prick your skin, opting instead to pick his head up off you as he moves only to lower it back down at the next spot ready to receive his attention. Your skin is heated from being snuggled down in the bed and it invites him to nuzzle his nose into it as he goes.

Simon eventually reaches the edge of the covers that have fallen around your waist from him getting up and he has to lift them out of the way to reveal the rest of your gorgeous body to his yearning mouth. Rolling them back at a leisurely pace, he makes sure not to reveal too much so the cooler air outside of the blanket doesn’t have a chance to make you uncomfortable until the warmth from his lips can keep the skin flushed. Over the curve of your waist, your stomach, your hip bones he places his steamy kisses. It is when he gets to your belly button that the anticipation finally hits him that he is getting closer to his favorite spot: that beautiful place in between your thighs.

The mattress creaks under his weight as he arrives at the foot of the bed so that he can remove the covers and push them off your legs. He can feel his cock throb as he pulls them back and finds what he’s always pining for. A heavy exhale falls from his lips and his mouth begins to salivate as he catches that first glimpse of your legs laying splayed open and that sweet little pussy just there waiting for his mouth to embrace.  

Simon can’t ever get his fill of it and God, he needs it so bad now that he sees it again. For a split second he thinks about making his movements more pronounced to wake you up, but a sudden intrusion of an idea makes him stop. You had mentioned recently that you were wanting to try something, to be woken up with his tongue lapping against your clit. What kind of man would he be if he never indulged his sweetheart’s fantasies? Today seems as good a day as any to make your dreams come true, not that he ever needs an excuse to get lost in all that goodness between your legs. 

There are times when he is so ravenous for your cunt that nothing else will even come close to satisfying that beast inside him, but today he doesn’t want it to be about the harsh and rough… well, not yet; this morning is all about making you so delirious and overstimulated off his tongue only that you won’t be able to get out of bed at all and he can keep you all to himself for the entire fucking day.  

Quietly Simon slides himself off the edge of the bed to situate himself kneeling on the carpet so that he can lay his torso on the mattress, giving him a better angle to be able to move in. Your legs are positioned open in such a way that from here he can easily slip his face up in between them and right against you, but he is in no rush. Ever so gently he pins more tender kisses along the soft, supple muscles of your inner thighs, his lips embracing your flesh with silent promises that everything he is fixing to do he is going to do for you only because you deserve it. 

His pretty girl, his sweet thing, so perfectly made as if just for him; fuck, do you make him want to worship the ground you walk on. 

His eyes catch the goosebumps forming under his breath along your body wherever he places his warm mouth and he cannot help but smile at your automatic physical reaction to him. Even in sleep you know his touch and respond to it. 

“My sweet girl,” he whispers in his husky morning voice into your calf as he continues up the length of your leg. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, so goddamn beautiful. I’m one lucky bastard and I ain’t eva’ gonna forget it.” 

He continues on without hesitation as he slides all the way up until he is right at the threshold of those delicate petals that he wants his mouth on. A moist heat meets his lips as he leans in and places kiss after kiss to them; never has something felt so perfect pressed against him. If Simon could live between your legs permanently, they would never fucking find the man again. 

One of those beefy arms he slips under your leg to prop it up and move it even further out of his way so that he has as much space to work as he needs. Restraining himself from going in fast and heavy isn’t easy, but what he wants is to keep his movements relaxed, not crazed and insatiable like on occasions when he’s had a bad day and just needs to smother against you. No, you deserve the full princess treatment from him and that is what you are going to get. Taking the opposite hand not around your thigh, he uses two of those long, thick fingers to delicately spread apart the lips to get at all that lays in waiting inside.

“There she is,” Simon sighs quietly as he immediately spots that sweet little bean that he desperately wants to suck until it’s swollen and throbbing and then even more until you are coming on his face.

He doesn’t go right for the kill first, instead building the anticipation of your body as he kisses that crease between your petals and your thigh, using his balmy breath to stimulate that sensitive area as he switches sides a few times until he feels you twitch and only then does he continue. Gathering up all the spit in his mouth he collects it on his tongue and presses it through your petals to coat the area until your body can take over. As he pushes that thick muscle into you he catches the sound of a quick rush of air escaping through your nose, followed by a sleepy sigh as you stir.

His movements are tender and intimate, circling the nub with the tip of his tongue and slowly using the pad to make love to your clit. You sigh again heavier this time as you begin to squirm in your sleep the more he strokes, your hips rocking faintly over his face as the sound of your fingers clawing at the fitted sheet is caught. Just a little more stimulation and you aren’t going to be able to stay asleep much longer.

Your quiet, breathy moans become more than whispers now and those amber eyes dart back up to your face over the curves of your body, desperate to watch the subtle changes that ripple across your features as he works at bringing you into consciousness by your pleasure alone so he can witness the very moment you wake. 

There is a brightness on the other side of your shut eyelids as you slowly slip back into the realm of consciousness, the sound of your own muted groans filling the quiet around you along with something else you cannot quite distinguish and it feels like you are still dreaming. Then it hits you: there is a familiar glowing, warm sensation in the pit of your stomach that amplifies as you continue waking. Your eyes flutter open as the sensation is so intense that you can’t ignore it anymore and as you look around to gather your bearings you notice that there is a blonde-haired head rocking undisturbed between your thighs.

As you focus you realize that he is staring right back at you and the corners of his eyes crinkle as you feel his lips upturn against your petals; you know he’s pleased with himself at what he is doing. He doesn’t stop or try to speak, he only tightens his grip around your thigh that he has propped on his shoulder and continues to service your clit with his tongue while he presses his face in tighter so that the pressure adds to the stimulation. 

The sensation is damn near overwhelming now and you realize that he must have been at this for a bit as it feels like you are about to come. Your head falls back heavy against the pillow as your eyes close to allow the feeling to wash over you completely, needy moans unable to be kept under control fill what was once the silence in the room. 

That’s when you feel his lips lock around your clit before he sucks down on it and using the very tip of his tongue he twirls around the bud while his fingers come back into play. He finds your entrances and gently shoves his middle finger inside to rub across your G spot and instantly you can feel your calm shatter into pieces. A euphoric spasm shoots through your entire body, making your limbs start to tingle, and you know by the feeling that it is only a few more moments that remain until you are going to spill.

“Simon, shit…gonna come,” you whimper his name as you grind your head into the pillow. To have so much ecstasy hit you all at once overwhelms you with its intensity and leaves you unable to function. You are about to come, that is all your half-asleep brain can process. 

With a few more strokes of that strong muscle and a few more flicks of his finger resting inside you, the pressure building at the base of your spine and the warmth gathering in the pit of your stomach reach their threshold and you spill over the edge with a strong jolt that causes your back to arch up off the bed as you cry out. The force of it makes you buck against Simon’s face, but he is ready and digs his fingers in full force until his hold on you is so secure that he isn’t going anywhere as you ride out wave after wave of your orgasm that crashes over you like a tidal wave. 

Fuck, what a way to start the day.

In your sleepy, mind-numbed state, you forget just how voracious your military man can be and mistakenly believe that at any moment he is going to emerge from your thighs and come lay beside you…except instead of letting you go, he doesn’t stop. Simon keeps at it, only slowing his pace down to almost nothing, but not pulling away from you. Instead he sneaks quick breaths by tilting his head to the side so that it exposes his nose to the air before he buries it right back in against your now dripping slit. 

“Simon, baby,” you call groggily down to him as you try to wriggle free of his grasp; it’s the only thing you can do to persuade him to release you, “you can take it easy. It’s still early, we got all day.”

Just a second, you need to take a break only so long as to catch your breath.

Simon hears your pleas, but it falls on deaf ears as he does not even budge. His plan is already set in motion and you are not nearly exhausted enough for him to even think about stopping yet. This day needs to stay in the forefront of your mind for at least a few weeks after he leaves and be the specific memory that fuels your desperate masterbating while he’s gone and not able to fix the ache.

“Shh…” he hushes mutedly against you. “I only have a few more days with ya and I wanna give ya my full attention. And this mornin’ I wanna take care of ya. I’m gonna take care a ya so fuckin’ good, baby.”

Is there a way to say no to that? If there is, you can’t find it and don’t want to. Even through the overly sensitive nature of your body right now, you don’t want to deny him a thing, not when he says it like that. And to be honest now that he has you at his mercy, his tongue still stroking along the line of your slit before coming back up to circle the nub, you are starting to want it again too.

Tiny beads of sweat like mist cover over your body as the feeling of Simon’s arms slithering up your torso are felt running through the perspiration, greedy hands searching for your chest without being able to see. Grabbing onto as much of your supple breasts as can fit in his large palms he pinches the nipples and rolls them between his thumb and forefinger to make your heated body burn until you whine out loud as they stiffen at his touch.

“Shi-i-it, Simon,” you say, your speech starting to slur together as the mindless haze floods your thoughts from the activity at your chest that radiates in waves of arousal you can feel throb in your clit. Keep sucking, keep playing with my tits, don’t stop, your mind screams.    

Everything outside this is like a distant memory; your body is floating and your mind drunk as you exist only in a world made of pure ecstasy. Your hand reaches down around his arms across your torso to the back of his head where you can press and push him in tighter to your pussy and you hear Simon hum a deep, contented sigh at the feeling of you forcing him to suffocate even more. 

Tha’s it baby, drown me, he thinks to himself as some feral part of his brain gets activated. 

There is movement in the mattress that shakes your body up and down as Simon begins to grind his aching cock against it, trying to use the friction to relieve some of the pressure in the swollen tip. Hearing your beautiful music while being smothered in your pussy is like a religious experience that is akin to having heaven on earth. 

Your glistening thighs are vibrating around Simon's ears and as each flick of his tongue finds its mark you are brought closer to climaxing again as you spiral into sensory overload. Over and over he engages with your core, his mouth filling with your sweet juices, the tip of his tongue playing in such a way it feels like he is signing his name on his favorite part of you. 

His name is falling from your lips in pathetic whines now as the only word you can recall in the fog of euphoria that you are trapped in. Every inch of you is wrapped in a cold sweat that feels like you’re about to burst into flames, the muscles in your belly contract rigid as the pressure in your spine increases with every stroke.  

Right there, it’s right there. You have to come to release the tension.

And that tightness finally snaps just like that and you come again, this time harsher and more intense than the last. Your thighs lock tightly around Simon’s head as you writhe wildly, your body struggling to take all that immense euphoria that fills up every inch of you.

Lengthy seconds pass as you come back down from that high while the sounds of your whimpers act as a gauge to the man crushed in your leg lock how long he will have left to stay suffocating. Once you settle back down again into the pillows and release his head from your hold does he actually emerge fully to sit up for the first time since he went down. 

Twice is enough, right? For anyone else it would be, but for Simon you know the man is still craving more. He wipes away the accumulation of cum and spit glinting in the morning light off the hairs on his chin onto the sheet he has picked up, a contented grin filling his beautifully stark features as he sets the damp fabric aside and stalks back up onto the bed like a lion ready to pounce. Stray kisses embrace your lower abdomen as he sets himself into position kneeling between your legs. 

“Ya ready for more a’ me, baby?” he asks, though not waiting long enough for an answer before he is gripping into your hips to pull your body down over him until your butt rests on top of his thighs. 

You shake your head back and forth. “Too much, t-too much,” you plead, but that isn’t going to do anything and you know it. He is ravenous.

Simon licks his raw, swollen lips. “But you’re takin’ it all so fuckin’ well. Your legs aren’t even shakin’ that bad yet, sweetheart. Said I was gonna take care ‘a ya good and I think that means ya need more.”

You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry at the thought of going again. “I can’t…I can’t…” you continue, the back of your head digging into the pillow. His fingers run along your inner thighs to send shockwaves of overwhelming ecstasy shooting up your spine to the top of your head and your mouth struggles to form the rest of the words. “Just give me a minute. Please, Si. I don’t think I can go anymore.” 

“Yes ya can, beautiful; you’re not done,” he grunts with a sharp inhale as he takes your legs in his grip and lifts them up so that he can rest your calves over his shoulders in a way that will strap you to him. Looking down at you through the gap in your legs he flashes a toothy, mischievous grin that has you shivering with anticipation as the heat from his breath rolls over your stomach. “Come on, sweetheart, I know ya ‘ave a little more in ya. You’re gonna take it all for me, yeah? I want ya ta fuckin’ soak me.”

You’re screwed.

Nodding your head in agreement, he immediately leans his face in until his nose can nuzzle against that overstimulated button and your back harshly arches right off the mattress, hands gripping with iron strength into the bundled up sheets you’ve gathered in your fists. Those long, rough fingers holding up your sides drive deeper into your hips so that you can’t slip away from his face while you buck roughly as the movements of his tongue settle back into a steady rhythm again.

So velvety soft, so warm, so moist, it makes his engorged cock throb hard and can feel it prod into your butt. He is overtaken by a desperate, burning need that floods his veins like wildfire; he wants to bury his face even deeper into you as if he is trying to fuse himself with your body. That feeling in him is unleashed in all its fury and he laps at your cunt faster and harder with each passing minute and your already weakened body is overwhelmed. 

“Fuckin’ breathe, sweet thing,” he says in a deep, desperate growl, ripping his face from within you for only long enough to speak the order, as he looks down to see the mixture of pain and pleasure ripple through your brow before he is right back in. 

Hot tears are stinging at the rims of your eyes now as your overly sensitive clit is stimulated again, collecting until they finally break over the edge to stream out from the corners and down over your cheeks. Simon stares at them glinting in crystalline drops as they catch the light from the window before they disappear and gather on the pillow behind your head and goddamn are they so beautiful they nearly stop his heart. 

This is it, this is the one that will do you in and his mission will finally be accomplished. He is pushing your body to its limit of what it can handle and you take it all so gorgeously. To see his sweet thing so out of her goddamn mind is something he hopes will be ingrained in his memory for the rest of his miserable life. 

The heels of your feet dig into the sides of his bare torso until his ribs are stinging under the pinpointed pressure. You don’t know if you have another one in you, but just as the thought burrows into your intoxicated mind you can already feel that gathering warmth in the lower part of your abdomen…except… Something is happening, that feeling of orgasmic pleasure bubbling up in your core is similar, but different. 

“Do ya want me ta stop?” he asks with his mouth full, prompted at the feeling.

You whimper pathetically through the tears spilling from the corners of your eyes; as overwhelming as it is, there is no way in hell you can let him stop now. “No,” you say pitifully as you try to push his head back down tighter against you, “don’t, don’t. Please…oh fuck, fuck!!”

“Good girl,” he growls as he dives right back in like he hasn’t already had you twice now.  

It’s too much, the pressure is overwhelmingly too intense. A deep sense of release more extreme than any orgasm you’ve ever experienced leads to a gushing sensation from between your legs and you throw your head back as you squeal loud as ever as it just keeps coming. Your body shakes and twitches as everything you have is released onto his face for the last time.

“There ya go,” he praises in between breaths as he strokes you through it, stopping once you lay limply in his grip. “Ride it out for me.”

Legs shaking, chest heaving, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed, Simon lowers you back down from his face and notices that his lap is wet and there is a markedly large wet stain soaking into the sheet under you both now. His face is just as coated and Simon is quick to realize what has happened. 

You can barely move at this point, but still turn your face back towards him to be met with a very happy and content man gazing back at you with those fiery auburn eyes as he wipes at the moisture covering face to clean it.

“Goddamn,” he says with a grin as he emerges from the same sheet he used before, “my pretty girl gettin’ so worked up she fuckin’ squirts on my face. Ya do know how ta fuckin’ treat me right, baby.”

You’ve never experienced anything quite like it before and are surprised that you are even able to do it in the first place, but if anyone could make you do it, it would be him. For a split second you feel a little self-conscious at this new development, but the way that Simon looks at you as if you have just hung the stars makes you giggle from the combination of nerves and adrenaline and settle back down.

He crawls back up the bed and drops down exhausted, but completely satisfied beside you and once he settles he reaches out to pull you into his steamy, heated embrace, skin to skin against his chest. His hand cradles the back of your head as he simply gazes into your eyes until your breathing slows and only then does he finally go in to kiss the last part of you he has left to claim.

His lips meet yours softly, but with the entirety of his passion for you. This is his little slice of paradise that he cannot help but feel lucky to have. Out of all the shit he’s had to deal with in his life, he found you and that means something to him. That’s why things like this he will never mind doing, not for you. Not if it’s to keep you satisfied. 

“Ya know, ya make it so fuckin’ hard for me ta leave,” Simon sighs quietly against your lips as the backs of his coarse fingers caress the delicate skin of your cheek in featherlike strokes. “I gotta make it just as hard for ya. Cause I’m gonna miss ya like hell. Still got two days left; gonna make ‘em count, sweetheart.”

Oh, he will… he definitely will. He always does.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #cod mw2 #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #ghost simon riley #simon smut #simon #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost smut #ghost cod smut #ghost call of duty #cod ghost

[venuslut]

FANTASIZING ABOUT a needy Choso Kamo ♡︎.

He can’t help it. Ever since you first introduced him to sex, he just can’t get enough. It’s not his fault that your cunt is so addicting, so much so that he’s often begging you to let him fuck you on his cock. It’s not his fault that you moan so beautifully that he can’t help but thrust into you harder so you’ll make more of those pretty sounds for him. It’s not his fault that you taste so good and he has to have you on his tongue, drinking your juices until you’re shaking and crying. He doesn’t mean to be so needy, but you bring out this side of him he can’t control.

How is he supposed to control himself when you walk around in those skimpy clothes, showing off your plump ass and perfect tits? It’s impossible. He’ll try to resist, have some self-control. But it isn’t long before he’s hugging you from behind, dotting wet kisses along your neck and pushing his hard-on into your ass. All while he’s begging you let him feel your wet cunt. And of course you’ll let him, how could you say no to your cute desperate boyfriend.

The minute you agree he has you laid out under him as he fucks his big cock into your tight cunt. Moaning and whimpering about how good it feels to be inside you again, his face red as he pushes every last inch of himself into you. He uses his weight to thrust into you, which only made your head go dizzy. He has you in a lazy mating press and your plush thighs slap against his hips every time he comes down, the sound of Choso’s deep thrusts is so musical, his tip abusing your womb to the point your eyes roll back. His mouth is so filthy too, and the worst part is, is that he doesn’t even realize it. “Fuck, baby... you’re sucking me in... your pussy’s so tight.” He groans into your ear, sucking onto your skin and leaving purple marks behind, intent on marking you as his. Although there was no point since you still had the hickeys from your last encounter, but it was never enough for Choso.

The poor curse is so in love with your body that he’ll go on for hours and hours just playing with your body. If it was up to him, you both would never leave the bed. Who needs to eat when he can just eat your cunt and you can suck his cock? Who needs to sleep when there’s a new position he wants to try? This man will not stop because that’s how addicted he is to your cunt. You curse the curse’s stamina and sometimes wish you had a normal boyfriend, but he usually fucks those thoughts right out of your head before you can try and act on them. “Choso… ngh!— h-hold on, my body…” you mumbled, unable to fully say your sentence. He hits a particularly sensitive spot and you let out a strangled cry, bucking your hips wildly to try and get that same pleasure again. Choso eyed your reaction, angling his hips to continue hitting that spot over and over again til you’re seeing stars and screaming out his name. You had no thoughts about shame, or how you should lower your voice, not when your handsome boy was fucking you within an inch of your life.

“Right there? ‘s that the spot, dove?” He pants, voice hoarse from his overwhelming desire for you. You’ve lost track of time, to obsessed with the way Choso has you creaming around his cock for the nth time. Everything was too much, but you loved it, in an addictive way. The overstimulation was addicting. His words were addicting. The sound of the bed hitting the wall was addicting. His cock was addicting. He was addicting. You always tease Choso about his neediness when in reality, you’re just as needy and obsessed as he is. You can tell Choso is close by the way his cock twitched inside you and how he speeds up his movements, rutting into you with wild abandon and chasing his orgasm.

You throw your head back into a pillow, your vision almost going black as you were consumed with ecstasy. The air was knocked out of your lungs with every snap of his hips, your senses filled with just the pressure of Choso. It felt like you were gonna throw up, but not in a bad way. “Baby… babybabybabybaby! A-ah! Mgn…” you cried out in pleasure, clawing at the sheets below you. Choso’s hands tightened around your hips, his careful grip growing into a bruising hold as he was solely focused on reaching his climax. “Hah— you feel sososososo good, dove. I love you, I love you so much,” he whimpered. It was right there, he could feel it, just a couple more thrusts and he’ll finally have his release. He wants to cum so bad, he needs to cum.

“Hey dove? C-can I fill your pretty pussy with my cum? Wanna cum inside you,” he begged, his voice broken as he pleads with you. “Please, my love… I want to stuff your pussy with my cum, wanna fill you up…” he continues, kissing your ankle and calf to convince you further. You didn’t need much convincing though, you were already to dumb and out-of-it to deny the poor curse. Frantically, you nodded your head, just wanting to feel his hot semen inside you. And you finally got your wish after a few more sloppy thrusts, before Choso goes still and empties his balls into your awaiting cavern. He lets out a guttural moan as ropes of cum spurt out. Slowly, he pulls out, his cock coated in a translucent white, his thighs and pelvis sticky from a mix of sweat and cum.

You both lay there in silence, the sounds of your labored breathing being the only noise echoing through the room. While coming down from your high, you remember that the reason you even got dressed today was because you had work. Annoyed, you lightly smack the upside of Choso’s head, complaining about how he made you late while you go to get out of bed and put your clothes back on. Choso rubs the area where you hit him as he watched you struggle to move and get out of bed, he looks at you like a kicked puppy and he knows he should be sorry for making you late but he can’t find it in him to feel guilty. Instead, Choso reaches out and wraps his arms around you, pulling you back further onto the bed and flushed against his sweaty chest. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and he lines soft kisses to your nape.

“I’m sorry, dove… Why don’t you call out and let me eat your pussy as an apology?”

#[𓆩⟡𓆪] xoxo love… #black y/n #black reader #poc!reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x poc!reader #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso smut #choso kamo x you #choso x you #choso x y/n #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso kamo #choso x female reader #choso x reader #choso kamo x female reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x black reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso kamo x y/n #choso x chubby reader

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Hi I would like to request a smut fem reader x Adam morning sex

A/n: Finally writing that Adam smut I promised I was gonna write.

Clinging desperately to you, Adam nuzzled into your neck as his hands then snakes around your hips as he pulled you into him. A small grunt leaving his lips as you felt his morning wood press into your backside.

"Really Adam."

A sleepy grin formed on his face as he let his fingers cup your breast's giving it a harsh squeeze. "Can you blame me sweetheart? How do you not expect me to wake up hard when I got a goddess layin on me."

Rolling your eyes, a small chuckle escaped your lips as you rubbed yourself against him. "Lazy morning sex?"

"You read my mind darlin." Adam muttered as he placed a kiss to the nape of your neck.

Letting out a soft laugh, you turned your body so you were laying under neath your lover.

Adam's eyes narrow with a mix of desire and possessiveness watching you, he couldn't pull his gaze away. You were so beautiful, the most beautiful woman in Heaven. He can sense the urgency and need in your gaze, and it only fuels his own desire to claim you completely.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice a low, commanding growl. He positions himself at your entrance, teasingly brushing against your slick folds, before slowly pushing himself inside you.

A deep, guttural groan escapes his lips as he feels the tight, velvety grip of your walls around him. He begins to move, setting a slow and deliberate pace, savoring the sensation of your body enveloping him.

His hands find their way to your hips, gripping them firmly as he increases the rhythm, his thrusts becoming more intense. Each thrust is filled with a mix of possessiveness and adoration, as he claims you as his own.

Leaning down, Adam captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he continues to move within you. His body pressing into you, good you felt so good, so fucking perfect.

Breaking the kiss, his hand clutched your hips.The sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through out the room as he broke the kiss. His voice husky as he looked down at you with adoration in is eyes. "You feel so fucking good.So fucking tight and wet around my cock. You were made for me, to be filled by me."

His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more urgent and powerful. He can feel the coil of pleasure building within him, and he knows he won't be able to hold back much longer. But he wants to bring you to the edge first, to watch you unravel beneath him.

With each thrust, he seeks out your most sensitive spots, his fingers digging into your hips. "You gunna cum for me?. Show me how much you want me. Show me how I make you feel. I wanna feel this pretty pussy clench around my cock."

Dropping one hand from your hips, Adam let his thumb rub you clit in small circles.

Chest heaving, you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge. His name spilled from your lips, a cry tore from your lips as your orgasm hit you, your walls clamping down on his cock.

Adam's eyes darken with primal satisfaction as he feels your walls clamping down around him, signaling your release. He revels in the sound of your cry, knowing that he's the one who brought you to such a peak of pleasure.

He continues to thrust into you, riding out the waves of your orgasm, prolonging the sensation for both of you. His voice is a low, husky growl as he watches your blissed-out expression. "That's it, my girl. Let go for me. Give yourself completely to the pleasure I'm giving you."

Feeling the tightness of your walls and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his own body, Adam can no longer hold back and with a guttural groan, he releases himself inside you, filling you with his warmth.

He didn't care about staining the sheets, the only thing that mattered was marking you, filling you so everyone can know who you belong to.

Shifting his body, Adam moved so he wouldn't crush you, his body trembling with aftershocks of pleasure. "Shit...you always know how to make me feel beautiful."

Pulling out from your warmth, he then gave you a lazy kiss hugging you close. "Love you."

Letting out a soft laugh you ran his fingers through his hair. "Love you too Adam."

#drabbles #drabble #adam #adam smut #adam x reader #adam x you #adam x y/n #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n

[kitorin]

g.satoru - 1:19 am

"i can't believe you kissed him—"

it's the dead of night when gojo satoru's fuming, acting as a means of prevention to your long awaited (and well deserved) sleep.

you pull your shared blanket, covering the entirety of yourself. "shut up. not now."

satoru rips the blanket off you. "yes, now. don't try to run away from the consequences to your actions."

an effort to pull back the blanket becomes futile, as you decide not to bother. "you're overreacting."

"why him, why not me? majority of his face is forehead and he's built like a rugby ball. he doesn't even look like a man" he inhales sharply. "what about this face isn't perfect?" satoru gestures to it, hair still slightly damp from the late shower and blindfold nowhere to be seen. "this is basically cheating. why would you do this to me? shall i get rid of my bangs so i have a bigger forehead?"

"satoru, he's just a plushie." you pull the white softness of the cinnamoroll plush to your chest, fingers stroking it's fluff.

"lucky bastard..." a curse or two accompanies his words, as he wraps himself in the blanket, as far away from you as possible. "should've been me."

"satoru—"

"i bet my hair's softer."

"why don't you come here and prove that to me then?"

the blanket unfolds to reveal a pouting gojo satoru. "you even called it a he."

cinnamoroll settles on your bed's head rest, somehow balancing with his 'majority forehead face'. satoru shuffles closer to you, closing the distance between you two.

you shrug. "he's my son. my baby."

"i'm your baby."

"he's baby in the sense of an actual, cute baby. you're baby in the sense of an immature grown ass man."

he responds with an eye roll. "wow. okay. plushie's more important than me i see."

another shrug from you, biting down on your lip to swallow a snicker (it wasn't successful).

"love it's just a plushie—"

"i tried to tell you that initially." satoru faces you to pout, but it has no effect on this little squabble of yours, maybe only a giggle or two from you. "he's so cute, c'mon.

without much effort, satoru picks cinnamoroll up, staring, no, glaring at the poor dog. "you can't find someone cute after they stole your lover."

"he's my son. that would make him your son." the observation makes him stick his tongue out. "all i did was kiss him."

"me related to him? no thank you." satoru continues to inspect the plushie from the sky blue, plastic eyes to the swirly tail on its bottom. "i hate him."

"you look the same. white hair, blue eyes."

satoru scoffs, very pretentiously. "that shade of blue is so dull. mine's bright and shiny. therefore prettier."

you lean in closer, not to whisper to him but to the plush. "i guess you'll be fine with having satoru's good night kiss?"

his jaw drops—literally, betrayal scrawled on his features. "you wouldn't."

"learn to get along with our son then."

satoru huffs indignantly, but brings the plushie to his chest, hugging it tightly. "well he's nice to cuddle. and his big head doesn't look so bad anymore."

finally, you reclaim the blanket stolen from you. "we both know you love him as much as i do."

"ew, as if." but he knows very well you're correct.

[he ended up forgetting the goodnight kiss he was fuming about]

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins , @pokkomi , @chigirizzz

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

#silly drabble to cope with the angst i'm cooking (happy ending at least BUT STILL) #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo #gojo satoru #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #satoru x reader #fluff #gojou x reader

[taintedcigs]

— fall into pieces

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

summary: steve comes in his pants from eating you out. that's the plot. (wc: 1.3k+)

warnings: smut without plot basically, or*l (f!receiving), praises, steve cums in his pants, soft smut!, steve is attentive, MINORS DNI.

author's note: not proof-read. this is dumb and doesnt make sense bc i wrote it in 20 mins bc i desperately needed to get out of my stupid slump sooo just pls support me in my shitty writing era thank you.

pleaseeee reblog to support me. ty!! mwah.

Steve loves eating pussy.

Scratch that, Steve just loves eating you out.

Because let's face it, before you, he didn't really care that much about the other girl's pleasure, or he just wasn't really that keen on eating pussy.... that was until you came along.

He didn't know what it was, that had him hooked on you this much, how much he enjoyed tasting you like a man possessed when it came to eating you out.

You taught him how fucking pleasurable eating pussy was, and it unironically changed him.

Once he realized how much it mattered to him to make you cum, he decided to make it his mission. Make a mental note of how you responded when he did anything.

He studied the noises you made when his fingers lightly traced your inner thighs, the shaky breaths you gave him as you silently pleaded, begged for more.

He started picking up on the way your body gave into him, slowly at first, and then all at his mercy. Padded thumb circling around your clit, velvety lips puffing a huff of cold air, making you whine while he wore that cocky smirk, hook, line, and sinker.

He just didn't realize how much it got him off to see you like this, to taste you fully, not until now.

"Such a gorgeous fuckin' pussy," he hummed, pressing upwards, just a little bit, reveling in the way your back arched for him. Once he finally got you prepped, smearing your juices all over, earning more sounds from you, then he pushed a finger inside of your soft walls, drawling the sweetest sounds.

"God, s'fuckin soaked, honey, all f'me?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, lips turning into a mocking pout, earning nothing but incoherent babble from you. He adds another finger, drumming his fingers inside of that sweet spot, turning you into gooey mess, his cock twitching in his pants.

Only when you pathetically murmur out a "S-steve!" that he finally kisses you all over, tongue licking up a flat stripe up your cunt, making your brain short-circuit.

"Y'like that, sweetheart?" He hums, and you nod all dumb, making him chuckle in that arrogant tone, yet you can't even argue.

He is that good.

The tip of his nose brushes against your clit, "ride my face, honey," he murmurs, but it's more like an order, that perfect chocolatey gaze so full of lust that you can feel yourself clench, nothing but a little "okay" coming out of your glossy lips.

And he groans at your fucked out face, you look so perfect. Spread out in front of him, glistening with arousal, head thrown back, plushy lips slightly open with your uncontrollable moans.

He buries his face in your cunt before you can beg him to, teasing with kitten licks before sucking your clit into his mouth, you cry out in all glory, thighs squeezing his head, hands crushing the sheets beneath the two of you in need.

His cock twitches at the sound, caged beneath his boxers the more you grind against his tongue, and he fucking smirks at you, watching your face twist the second he slips his index fingers inside of you, words roll out of your tongue as nothing but disordered sounds.

His cold fingers curl inside of you, making you arch your back against him, you want to beg for more, but you can barely speak.

And of fucking course, he can tell, his devilish smirk growing wider before his padded thumb circles around your clit, the tip of his tongue keeping the rhythm.

His cock feels stiff, so fucking stiff that it feels uncomfortable, wanting, needing to feel your walls, to be inside of you, watch the way his huge cock stretches you fully.

"S-steve!" He knows that tone all too well, singing for him, the sweet sounds of your whimpers, letting him know that you are close to the edge, and he doesn't hesitate to add another finger.

"Doin' so good for me, sweetheart, you close, huh?" He mocks all knowingly, tongue sucking your clit while his fingers circle around it, it's all the stimulation you need and more, body going frail with how attending he is.

You give a slight nod, body flushed with lust, cunt clenching around him, "Use me," he begs, desperate, needing to see how heavenly you sound when you come around him, the prettiest face you wear.

"Use me to get yourself off, baby." The words sound filthier with his whiney tone, you know he's close too, just by eating you out. And it makes you want that sweet release so much more, chasing it eagerly.

His tongue picks up his movements, fingertips rubbing your clit with vigor, and you ride his face in all glory, chasing that little taste of heaven.

You don't know if it's the "Good girl," praise he offers, his fast-paced fingers on your swollen buds, or that celestial tongue of his sucking on your clit, but you lose it all. "Oh, f-fuck!" You moan out, every control of your body, gone.

Going to pieces when he makes you cum, your taste flooding his senses, overtaking him as well. It's all he wants, worship you, taste you on his tongue, watch your face contort over and over again.

That's the routine normally, but now it makes him realize how much more he enjoys this, having you spread apart in front of him, pussy fluttering around his tongue and fingers, and that's all it takes to have him leak all over, hips grinding into nothing but the sheets, cumming in his boxers, groans leaving his mouth.

It takes you a minute to register it all, barely able to catch your breath. "Steve, d-did you-" You looked down at his boxers, all warm and wet.

"S-shit, baby, I'm sorry, I just-" He mumbled, almost embarrassed, words jumbled together, blushing furiously.

God, that was so fucking hot.

He avoided your gaze, looking down on the mess he made, warm load spread all over his boxers, sure to leave a stain. Sticky and embarrassing him. "You just looked so fuckin' hot and tasted so good-"

"Steve," You interrupted him, his attention all on you, gaze so sweet that he can't avoid it. "What are you apologizing for that was so fucking hot," you blurted out, eyes blown wide with lust all over again.

"W-what?"

"Baby, you cumming your pants from eating me out just made you ten times hotter." You groaned all whiney, leaning in closer to him.

"Do you need me to take care of you now, Stevie?" You asked, tone sultry, and your doe-eyed gaze, dangerous, making his cock stiffen in record-breaking seconds.

"Keep talkin' to me like that and I'll cum in my pants once again, baby," he teased with a whine, lips still curled into a grin, making you giggle with your head thrown back.

"C'mere," you grabbed him by his shirt, kissing him roughly, teeths clashing and lust filling the room again as you tasted yourself all over his tongue.

Eager to make him fall into pieces again.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington drabbles #steve harrington blurbs