#and this fucked experimentation shit like holy shit

[ghost-bard]

jrwi suckening ep 6 spoilers :))

emizels sire is so interesting wtf is up w him?

like he cant be a nosferatu because while a nosferatu's appearance can change over the course of several days its an extremely painful experience, so he wouldn't have looked normal in ep 1 and then look. as monstrous as he is in ep 6

so obviously he's become this man made creature, but i'm really curious as to. how he got like that. like complete human/kindred experimentation, i feel like this is def up nosferatu and tremere alleyways (in terms of what they may do to others, im also thinking malkavian or toreador) but it's been a while since i've looked at some of the clans.

also the whole into the back of the head? is very reminiscent of the unseen ones whole lair deal? but i could be wrong.

i'm also still listening to the episode so who knows.

#jrwi #just roll with it #jrwishow #jrwi the suckening #the suckening #the suckening spoilers #jrwi spoilers #emizel tucker #jrwi emizel #jrwi suckening #this shit is so insane tho #like holy fuck i cant wait to see what charlie cooked up #like already he isnt doing vtm the way a lot of ppl (from what ive seen) play it #and this fucked experimentation shit like holy shit #its so cool dude i love the body horror aspects have been some of my fave bits so far

[trashbaget]

.

#i…………i have……………i have a fucking DATE tomorrow !!! #im going on a motherfucking DATE tomorrow????? #not only am i going on a DATE tomorrow but im going on my FIRST?? DATE?? tomorrow??? AND I PLANNED IT??? kinda??? #bro. bruh. bra. breastie. ive got a motherfucking date tomorrow and >i< asked >him< out!???? #we’re gonna go to the store to get snacks and then we’re watching this christmas romcom that was filmed in my hometown that’s sposed to be #really shitty & we’re both such suckers for shitty movies aldhakdja. fuuuuuuuck. im going on a date tomorrow yall. what the fuck. WHAT THE F #yall im going on a date tomorrow. im. im so excited??? im so excited!!! i have a DATE?? tomorrow????? with a boy???? that i like??? and i??? #fuck what if we kiss!!??? what if we hold hands??!!! WHAT DO I WEAR !!!!?????!!!????!!!!!!??!!!!! #fuck what do i wear……………………ive got like sweaters? or this neat little turtleneck tank top? but what would i wear with it it’s freezing?? #i was thinking my overalls but uhh….is that like??? idk.. is that too casual slash not very dateish?? #what says This Is A Date but is still comfy enough that i can sprawl the fuck out on his couch to watch movies in the ideal position #wait………..i could…….i might use him as a pillow…….omgggggggg…….ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh that’s so fucking cute alfhskdjskfjsldndns #fuck i really hope he kisses me. idk. is rhat getting hopes up or something? ctrl^5can you tell i have issues letting myself be excited?ct^5 #it doesn’t matter!!! it’s exciting!!!! im excited!!!!!! i have a fucking date!!!!!!! with a guy i really like!!!!!!! and i wanna kiss him!!! #he’s just some guy #feeling very Oh GOD what if WHEN HE SEES ME—i like him and HE KNOWS IT???? about all this hahahahahahahahahahahahaaaah. AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH #HOLY HEELLLLL!!!!!!! I HAVE A DATE TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK???????????????? WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #oh my god what do i wear………..should i do makeup??? nahhh. i dont think im gonna. i wanna be as comfy as possible & im still experimental #fuckin. what if we kiss. what if we. you know. get together. and like i’ll have a boyfriend. holy shit what the fuck. i could have a boyfrie #i could have a boyfriend????? what the fucking hell????? what if it goes well and we kiss and he wants to get together???? how the hell do r #relationships start???? uggghhhhh!!!!!! writing about romance is so much easier than living it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i can write meet cutes and #first kisses and getting togethers all day fucking long but FUCK if i’ve gotta go on a REAL LIFE DATE on my own!!????!!!!! #holy shit. i could go home for christmas and just be sat there like. 🧍they dont know that i have a boyfriend🧍 #wooooooaaaaaaahhhhhh. what a goddamn trip that will be. what the shit. holy fuck we could kiss??? we might kiss???? two besT FRIENDS???? #THEY MIGHT KISS????? THEY SHOULD KISS!!!!!!!! HOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLYYYYY SHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTT!!!!!!! i have a date tomorrow. #🧍 #i— #i have a date tomorrow—

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

boob obsessed ethan!!

I have very few smut requests for Scream characters and I'm in that mood to write that... Please send more for Ethan and Billy (I can do Billy x reader x Stu too)

Warnings: 18+, boobs touching/sucking, Ethan being obsessed

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

It all started clicking one night you and Ethan were studying for finals. He was having difficulty concentrating, easily distracted by flipping his pen or even whistling, so you decided to give him a little bit of motivation.

‘’If you get five answers right, I’ll show you my boobs.’’ 

Automatically, Ethan’s eyes lowered to your boobs — still covered by your shirt — and bit the inside of his mouth to not moan. 

‘’And if you get ten right,’’ you added, ‘’I’ll let you touch them.’’ 

His jaw almost dropped. There was no way you were being serious. No one ever made deals like that and honored their part of the deal — except in his late night fantasies.

‘’Y-you’re playing,’’ Ethan said, shifting on the bed, feeling himself harden just at the thought of your breasts.

You chuckled, shaking your head. ‘’I’m not. You helped me when I was struggling last semester, now it’s my turn to help you. Do we have a deal?’’ 

Seventeen minutes later, you put the pile of flashcards down and Ethan held his breath, knowing what was coming. He got five answers right. It was an understatement to say he was nervous, however he was also so excited — very excited. 

You grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it off, then unclasped your bra, nipples hardening from the cool air of the dorm. 

Watched intently, Ethan let out a strangled moan, his eyes wide with wonder and staring directly at your chest. ‘’Holy fuck, those tits are so nice. Way better than what I imagined through your shirt,’’ he said, his blunt honesty making you laugh. ‘’Shit. Did I say that out loud?’’ His face flushed, embarrassed at himself. He really wanted to crawl into a hole and die right here.

‘’You did,’’ you confirmed. You gave Ethan a soft smile, pulling him out of his trance by placing your hand on his kneecap. ‘’Let’s not get distracted. If you want to touch, you gotta give me five more good answers. Remember?’’ 

Ethan nodded, shifting again to cover the slight tent in his pants. Controlling that part of his body was impossible. He took a deep breath and you hit him with the next question. 

It was harder to concentrate this time, his eyes dropping back to your chest every three seconds, but he did it, successfully correctly answering five more flashcards.  

‘’Can I touch them, now?’’ he asked shyly, his fingers tingling with excitement. 

‘’Go for it.’’ 

That's exactly what he did. Ethan placed both of his hands over your boobs, covering them with his palms and splayed fingers like a kid discovering something for the first time. He squished them both, his fingers sinking into the softness of your breasts. 

Ethan could feel his cock twitch slightly in his pants as he continued to feel you. ‘’Oh my god. Oh wow,’’ he said, breathing heavily. His finger tweaked your nipple, experimentally pinching at it and rolling it between his fingers, drawing out a soft gasp from you when he used more pressure than you were expecting. ‘’I could cum just from touching them—’’

‘’Ethan!’’ you gasped, shocked by his words. 

His eyes snapped up and he mumbled apologies, but you just laughed.

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh  @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore  @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti  @bloodyhw  @depthsofdespairr  @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld  @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy  @s-al-em  @darylscvmdumpster  @tommysaxes  @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely  @aqshua @lynbubble  @luiise  @planetkt  @vampyrgoff

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry smut #scream #scream 6 #scream imagine

[r-o-s-e-f-i-r-e]

idk i’ve been thinking for the last day about modern day corroded coffin, semi-successful in the local music scene, did a self-funded tour through six states last fall where they all lived in the van together and didn’t shower for four weeks, has a standing gig at the dive bar next to the highway and the strip club, they’re established, they have a small but dedicated local following, they —

“can’t play a WEDDING, are you fucking with me?” eddie says, when gareth shows him the text from his cousin who’s getting married in two weeks and who, as of last night, has no wedding band because they accidentally double booked themselves and gareth’s cousin had sent the deposit in late.

“i’ve explained to him so many times,” gareth says, furiously texting his cousin back, “we’re not that kind of band—”

except gareth’s cousin, instead of responding directly to gareth’s text outlining the musical thesis of corroded coffin or watching the youtube link gareth sends to the show last month where eddie got a black eye in the pit from someone in an inflatable garfield costume, just sends back —

“holy shit,” eddie croaks, looking at the string of zeros on the end of the number gareth’s cousin offers me to pay them in exchange for saving his ass and his wedding and his marriage, since his fiancé was demanding a live band. “that’s—”

“three months of rent for each of us,” gareth says, awed. “that’s buy actual fresh vegetables money. that’s go to the dentist money—”

“yeah, okay, give him my number,” eddie says.

so they spend the next two weeks practicing every white people wedding song they can think of. there’s no way they’ll be able to do, like, get low, tragically, but they can pull off the classics, especially after they bring chrissy onboard for vocals and keyboard. there are places where eddie draws the line — no fucking journey or especially insipid top 40 — but they can do some whitney. abba. fucking — mr. brightside. a lot of it is pretty simple, when you get down to it, “and people will be wasted anyway,” jeff reminds them. there’s an open bar at the six figure venue gareth’s cousin booked. hopefully everyone will be too hyped just hearing the opening baseline to i want you back to notice if they fumble anything hard.

rehearsal montage, chrissy takes the boys to the mall to buy suits montage (except for gareth who, like most transmasc dudes, already has a custom fitted and tailored suit ready to go in his closet; instead he makes catty remarks about brian’s tie choices.) chrissy makes eddie put his hair up and eddie makes jeff shave the experimental mustache he’s been growing and eventually the day of the wedding arrives and they load up the van and drive 45 minutes to the six figure waterfront reception venue.

they riff for about ten minutes while the whole wedding party makes their grand entrance into the massive tent set up on the lawn, ending with gareth’s cousin and his new wife dancing in, the whole crowd screaming and clapping. it’s cute, eddie thinks, vamping as long as he can while gareth’s cousin’s best man takes the mic and introduces the new couple and directs everyone to their seats for dinner.

and meanwhile: best man is frankly one of the hottest dudes eddie’s ever seen. he’s got longish brown hair that he keeps pushing out of his eyes, full lips, an insane shoulder to waist ratio, big hands. eddie sneak looks at him while they play a bunch of low key jazzy standards for people to eat their expensive dinner to. he’s sitting with his arm around the shoulders of a girl with shaggy auburn hair, and they keep leaning in to whisper to each other and giggle, so. oh well. but it doesn’t hurt to look, eddie thinks, watching the guy take his suit jacket off and roll up his sleeves and make a toast to gareth’s cousin and his new wife’s long and joyful marriage.

once most people have had their plates cleared away jeff turns to eddie and the rest of the band and nods, once, and while chrissy plays the opening synth chords to i wanna dance with somebody, jeff turns his front man showmanship deal all the way up.

it’s good. people are fucking hyped, so they throw themselves into it, feeding off the crowd’s energy, and almost no one is more hyped than mr. best man. he’s jumping up and down, his arms around gareth’s cousin and his wife. he knows every word to dancing in the dark (hot). when they transition into robyn’s dancing on my own he turns to the girl with auburn hair and points at her and screams. cute, eddie thinks, watching best man pick her up and spin her around while she downs her wine and shouts along. okay, really fucking hot, eddie thinks, when he finally pulls his loosened tie all the way off and unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt and eddie can see a hint of chest hair peeking out.

they slow it down for the first dance. it’s the leon bridges one everyone always does, but it’s perfect in jeff’s range, and there is not a single dry motherfucking eye in the audience. they do a couple more slow ones, throughout the night. best man dances with his girlfriend and then gareth’s grandmother and then with every child under the age of 10, letting them stand on his shoes while he twirls them around. how is this guy fucking real, eddie thinks, which of course is when best man notices eddie looking right at him and their eyes meet. best man looks a little flustered, at first, and then grins at eddie, right at him, before spinning the flower girl around in dizzying circles.

jesus christ, eddie thinks.

they’re closing out the night on the only other request gareth's cousin gave them: the one from the end of dirty dancing. jeff thanks the crowd, offers his congratulations to gareth’s cousin, and then goes right into it. except as jeff sings the first line everyone absolutely loses their shit, turning to best man and jumping around him and one of the bridesmaids. what the fucking hell, eddie thinks, keeping one ear on jeff and chrissy’s duet and one ear on the crowd piling around best man “—you guys HAVE to, dude, you’ve GOT to—“ but whatever it is he has to do is not immediately apparent to eddie. best man dances in a circle with the rest of the wedding party and auburn hair and the bride and groom, shout-singing along, and then during the build up to the second prechorus gareth’s cousin’s wife and her bridesmaids start pushing everyone to the sides of the dance floor, so there’s a long space in the middle, so the bridesmaid with curly dark hair is at one end and best man is at the other end and oh my god is he actually going to —

the bridesmaid runs and then launches herself at best man, who lifts her perfectly, right on cue at the peak of the second chorus, his hands steady on her hips while she floats her arms out in front of her just like jennifer grey. they hold it for a few moments while everyone loses their fucking minds and takes a thousand pictures. eddie actually takes his hand off his guitar for a minute. he thinks his mouth is open. he can see the muscles in best man’s arms flexing under his white button up shirt as he carefully lowers the bridesmaid back to the ground, laughing, his eyes scrunched up in joy.

eddie is maybe a little bit in love.

they close it out. the whole crowd whistles and stomps and applauds for them, which feels pretty good, eddie’s not gonna lie. as they start packing it up and high fiving each other and a couple people come over to ask if they have a card, if they’re still booking for next year or the year after (what?) gareth’s cousin comes over and hugs every single one of them, almost in tears, and then adds another 2k to the check he writes for them. eddie pulls out his cigarettes right then and there.

“steve, come meet the band,” he yells, when steve and auburn hair walk past. “gareth saved my whole ass, oh my god —“

“you guys were fucking incredible,” steve says, grinning, shaking gareth’s hand. “best wedding band i’ve heard in years —“

“they’re not even a wedding band!” gareth’s cousin shouts. “they’re like metal — moshing — thrash, i don’t know, LOUD—“

“whoa,” steve says. he pushes his hair out of his eyes and then turns that blinding smile right on eddie. eddie feels struck by it, wants to stagger back like he’s taken an actual blow. “cool, so you guys — play locally, or —?”

“oh my god,” his girlfriend says, rolling her eyes; steve elbows her in the side.

“i like your guitar,” steve says, gesturing at the warlock eddie’s still holding in his non-cigarettes hand.

“oh, uh, thanks,” eddie says.

“it’s a cool shape,” steve says, stepping closer, flicking his eyes down and then back up to meet eddie’s. there’s sweat gathered along his hairline, dampening the ends of his hair. behind him, his girlfriend coughs something loudly that sounds vaguely like slut.

eddie feels his eyebrows go way up.

“uh, thanks, shapes are. you know. shapes are great,” eddie says, nonsensical. he sees gareth shoot him an incredulous look out of the corner of his eye.

“can i bum one?” steve says, looking down to the cigarettes in eddie’s hand.

“totally,” eddie says. “let me just—“ he holds the warlock aloft and gestures to the open guitar case.

“sure,” steve says. he waits around while eddie hustles through getting his shit sorted out and then turns away politely while eddie has a silent desperate telepathic conversation with the rest of the boys, who roll their eyes and make their way over to the still open, still free bar.

where auburn hair is standing and talking to chrissy, putting a hand on chrissy’s arm while she laughs at something chrissy says.

hm, eddie thinks.

“so,” eddie says, walking out from under the tent with steve, down towards the water, awash in the moonlight. he holds out his cigarettes. “you like springsteen?”

#here have some dumb shit #steddie #stranger things #yes the joe keery dirty dancing lift video is playing in my head 24/7 #mine

[dirichletttt]

I really liked Oppenheimer. I know it's not for everyone, but as someone who is interested in STEM and STEM history, especially pertaining to physics, this movie pushed all of the right buttons for me. I think it did a good job at showing just how flawed and utterly human many of these mythologized historical figures were in real life, and how the Manhattan Project was riddled with internal and external political factors from even before its conception.

I also appreciated just how utterly fucking powerful and eldritch they made the bomb. Obviously a significant portion of the movie is dedicated to the creation of the bomb, but it's often sort of a looming figure in the background. It's the increasing number of marbles in the jar, it's the steady theoretical and experimental progress, it's the dropping of dates for those who know the historical timeline of events. And when it's finally revealed, it's Fucking Terrifying. You pretty much never see the full mushroom cloud in frame; it's always a small portion of it or the flash of light shining on our characters. And the sinking feeling you get when the screen is lit up and you just know, you're anticipating that deafening blast from the shockwave because sound travels slower than light. And you feel guilty in a way because you have the privilege of knowing what's coming, while in your mind you know the victims of such devices had no idea before they were either vaporized on the spot or severly traumatized. It conveys so well the perspective of the scientists on the project, that you've challenged god and, although maybe not surpassing it, made something equally as terrifying.

Character-wise, I don't really have much to say. I do like that the latter third of the movie slowed down a lot to focus on the accusations made against Oppenheimer, which helped to flesh out a range of characters who were sort of just set pieces to Oppenheimer himself before the interviews. And despite my previous statement about breaking down the idolization of historical figures, I was indeed excited like a Marvel fan whenever one of my physics blorbos showed up on screen. "Holy shit it's Niels Bohr!!" "omg Lorentz my scrunkly wunkly!!!" "ITS BONGO GUY OMG BONGO GUY I KNOW HIM" like yeah a lot of them turned out to be Not Great People in their personal lives but I can acknowledge that while also geeking out at their recognition in mainstream media.

All in all, very good movie. I intend to watch it with my mom when I get the chance.

#oppenheimer #christopher nolan #physics #science #movies #barbenheimer #barbie

[hurlingdown]

ur zoro fic was so good omfg ftm bratty ace x ftm dom reader?? I need him So bad

make me feel good (dom top trans!male reader, nsfw)

tags: ftm!brat!ace turned pillow princess, breeding kink, wet & messy, riding, double ended strap-on, it vibrates goddammit, strap referred to as cock sometimes, bit of hurt/comfort, imaginary creampie, holy shit they're fr about making babies, this is filthy and i love it

Ace squirmed on your thick dildo, soaked cunt pulsing around it as he struggled to balance on your lap. At the additional weight, the protruding toy on the other end of the strap-on slipped deeper past your folds, making you shiver. 

“Y-you said you’d finally let me top, you fucker!” he gasped, eyes teary with contempt. “For once!” 

“To be fair, you are on top,” you muttered absent-mindedly, distracted by the way his slick dripped down the remaining inches of your cock that he couldn’t take in one go. His nails dug into your shoulders as he let out a loud whine, demanding your attention. 

“Not like this!” Ace moaned, and despite his protests, his hips had started to roll against the toy, trying to take more of it inside him. “Want to—make you feel good too, it’s not always about me—” 

“I feel good too. And seeing you feel good makes me feel good,” you told him truthfully, planting your hands on his waist as you guided him down your cock, thumbs pressing gentle circles into his skin to soothe him. “Besides, I wanted to try using this. The vendor said it vibrated.” 

His eyes widened with a mixture of excitement and something more. “This thing vibrates?” 

“Yeah—there’s the remote. Hngh, fuck, don’t move so suddenly.” Ace jerked in your lap to grab the remote in your hands, making the small toy inside you shift. Feeling emboldened by your reaction, he harshly rocked his hips downwards with a keen, fully seated on your lap now. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, trembling. 

You frowned. “Shit, do you need more lube? Did I stretch you out enough? Does it hurt?” you asked worriedly as he shook his head, feeling overwhelmed by the sensation of a fat cock pushing past his entrance and rearranging his insides.  

“No. No, just start moving.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes! I’m getting bored, so move!” 

You held in a scoff at his poor attempt to rile you up. How typical of him. 

“You’re sitting on top of me, firecracker. How d’you want me to move?” 

Ace opened his mouth to argue, but then promptly froze, flushing as he realised his position. He was still unused to the one being on top—usually it was him with his face pressed down into the sheets and ass up to the heavens, you pounding so sweetly into his pussy from behind as he cried out your name. 

Tiny crimson flames erupted from his skin and he scowled, embarrassed. “I knew that.” 

“Yeah. Of course.” You looked at him, his thighs trembling as his cunt clenched around the dildo, sitting there like a whiny brat that just got told off. “Darling,” you murmured, taking his hands into your own, to which he swatted away. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” 

“I want to!” 

Ace scowled, raising his head to look at you, and you saw the tremble of the wet sheen in his dark eyes. 

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he said, confidently, and you stifled a smile. 

“Sure.” If you can. 

You gave his hips an encouraging squeeze as he began to lift himself. His thighs were already spasming with the effort, and he let out a soft gasp, head falling forward to knock against your shoulder—unintentionally giving himself the best angle possible. 

He held in his breath as more and more of the toy was exposed, and he clenched around it experimentally, watching as globs of lube mixed with his slick were pushed out with a squelch. He was stretched so, so impossibly wide around you, and it was obscene. 

“Ace. Relax. Just a little more.” 

“I—fucking know, hah, dammit! You’re not the one—taking this fat cock,” he whimpered, shivering and gasping softly as the entire length of the dildo was revealed, the plump tip rubbing against his folds. “Gonna—gonna move now. So brace yourself.” 

Without waiting for your response, he suddenly relaxed his taut thighs, letting gravity drop him on your cock, slamming himself down all the way in one go—and he threw his head back, letting out a garbled moan as his eyes crossed. It was so fucking deep inside him, even deeper than before, and you bit your lip to stop yourself from making any noise, blessed by the erotic sight on your lap and the fact that the toy inside you was pressing at a new angle that had you clenching around it. 

“So good, babe,” you mumbled. “You’re doing so great.” 

Ace didn’t respond, and your eyes trained onto his exposed Adam's apple as it bobbed. 

“Ace?” 

The fingers gripping your shoulders trembled with effort to hold himself still as Ace took in a shaky breath through his teeth. As you saw the glistening of tears down the side of his cheeks, you knew something was wrong. 

“Shit, you okay?” 

“Y-yeah,” he managed weakly. 

“You sure you’re alright? We can stop if you want—” 

“I’m—fine. Stop asking to stop—f-fuck, do you not want me anymore?” he whimpered, wet eyes finally gazing at you with hurt and scorn as tears started to roll down his face. “Is that it? Did you get tired of me ‘cause you don’t feel good when we fuck?” 

So that was why he was so insistent on topping you. 

“No,” you sighed, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “It’s nothing like that, love. I was just worried about hurting you.” 

“Oh.” He visibly flushed from the kiss, trying to bite down a smile at the relief that flooded him. 

“And again. Your ‘good’ is my good. So stop worrying and feel good for me.” 

“But you won’t feel as good as I—” 

You kissed him, muffling any other protests. “I swear on my life, I do.” 

“Fine,” Ace huffed. “But you could never hurt me—it’d be my choice if that ever happened.” He turned his head to the side with a blush, averting your heated gaze. You were smirking, ideas rushing through your mind that you would indulge in the next time the two of you had sex: spanking, overstimulation, edging, bondage— “You’re an infuriating sap and I absolutely despise you.” 

“Yeah? You seem to love my cock, though.” 

Hot flames flickered up over his skin as his eyes snapped back to you in surprise. They hesitantly travelled down, and further down—to his drenched pussy impaled on the huge dildo, his stomach paunchy with the sheer size of it taking up all the space. He let out a breathy whine, as though just realising that your dick was still shoved deep inside him. 

He had sworn he could do it, but the truth is—he couldn’t. Not now—not like this. 

“Want me to take control?” 

“Fuck, yes, please,” Ace whispered, words burning with need. 

Satisfied by the enthusiastic consent, you slowly lowered him onto the mattress, whispering encouragement and sweet nothings to get him to relax. He rubbed at his eyes, trying his best to wipe away his tears. 

You picked up the vibrator remote that he had dropped somewhere, feeling his eager eyes dig into you. Meeting his gaze with a heated one of your own, you set it to a low level, shakily inhaling. As you began to grind your hips against him, he whimpered at the sensation, slick gushing out with each thrust of the dildo, wetting the bed. 

And it was so good for you, too, the toy rubbing and vibrating intensely inside your hole, sending the most delicious quivers down the back of your spine. This was heaven—you couldn’t even fathom why he would think otherwise. 

“More,” he demanded with a whiny tone. 

“How much more?” 

“Go a level higher—I can take it.” 

You decided to take pity on him, as he had got so overwhelmed and cried earlier. Ace never cried. Not in a scenario like this, with bad thoughts crowding his brain instead of how good you were making him feel, thinking of something so absurd—that you didn’t want him anymore. 

Adjusting the level of the vibration to his wishes, you groaned as pleasure surged through your abdomen. You took a moment to dwell in it, imagining the dildo was your own cock, and his pussy was milking you with every rut into tight heat, making him feel so good he’d grip you with his cunt—refusing to let you leave until you bred him full of your seed. 

You almost came from that thought alone. What a sight it would be, seeing him round with your children, the product of your love and sin. 

“What—what are you thinkin’ about?” Ace slurred, drunk on pleasure as he let out breathy moans and whines. “Focus on—me!” 

“My bad,” you chuckled, leaning down to kiss him as an apology, while your hips sped up to fuck him harder and faster. “You f-feel so good, baby.” 

His cheeks went pink, almost shy, a godsent complement to the brown stars that scattered across his attractive face. He dug his face into the sheets to hide his expression from you, panting heavily as he’s bodily dragged onto your cock, only to have it plunge out and ram into him again. “I, ha—AH!” he wailed at a particularly hard thrust, “I do?” 

“Yeah—you’re so fucking tight, I wanna come inside you real bad.” 

“Oh shit,” Ace breathed, eyes growing wide and almost feral. Dirty talk was common between the two of you during sex, but this was new territory. “Fuck, yeah, do it, please—” he begged, eyes tearing up again and shuddering at the prospect of you impregnating him, “I wanna—wanna have your, hnngh, babies!” 

“How—how many?” 

“We’ll think about that, ah, later—” 

“Daughter or son?” 

“Not now! Wait, a son would be nice, he’d be handsome like you—”

“I want a daughter, though.” 

“Then I’ll give you both!” he swore loudly, pussy tightening around your dildo, a sign that he was close. “Babe, fuck, I think I’m gonna—gonna come—!” 

“Yeah? Come for me. You’re so—good, so fucking good.” You turned the remote to the maximum level, feeling the vigorous vibrations bleed into the tender parts of your cunt and moaning shamelessly, though not allowing the pleasure to stop you from picking up pace, hitting a certain spot within Ace that made his toes curl, making sure that he felt as good as you did. 

You needn't have worried, though—Ace was shaking, crying, and the mess between his legs was filthy and mouth-watering, milk-white slick leaking out of his pussy in copious amounts, showing just how damn good you made him feel. 

“Fuck your—kids into me, please—” he begged, spreading his legs wider to accommodate your messy thrusts. “Want them so bad—!” 

You could feel yourself tethering on the verge of wanting to come so badly you would die and edging yourself, eyes rolling back as you thrusted blindly into his sopping hole, one thumb pressed onto his clit to rub, hard—and Ace came all over your cock with a throaty scream of your name, clenching so tightly around your dildo that you could almost feel it—making the toy inside you gouge into that same fucking spot, and you cry out, orgasming. 

“F-fuuuck,” you panted, pulling out and collapsing on top of Ace, the action making ungodly amounts of slick and come leak out from his cunt, completely drenching his thighs. 

He was still coming down from the life-shattering climax he just experienced, body trembling as his leg muscles spasmed and jumped involuntarily. A hand slowly carded through your hair, pressing your cheek against his muscular chest, letting you feel his heart run a marathon for you. 

You laid there for several minutes, basking in the afterglow, before he finally spoke up, breaking the silence. “About… the children,” Ace muttered, frowning. He had paused, as though he wanted to say our children and not the children. “It isn’t biologically possible, you dolt. Both of us—aren’t. That.” 

“We could find a donor.” 

“Don’t want it if it’s not yours. And—I want them to look like you, too.” 

You stomped down the blush that crept onto your cheeks, smiling like a fool. “Then we’ll just have to find a devil fruit that can help us.” 

“Oh.” He smiled back, finally, before puckering up his lips to ask for a kiss, to which you happily obliged. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you pressed your pounding heart to his own, letting him know exactly how good he had been making you feel, all along.  masterlist! p.s. thank you anon for praising my zoro fic; i hope this satisfied you as well :)

#top male reader #dom male reader #ace x male reader #ftm ace x ftm reader #portgas d ace x male reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #ace x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x male reader #top reader #dom reader #trans reader #male reader #x male reader #bottom character #portgas d ace #bottom male character #one piece smut #no beta we die like ace #oh the irony

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 3

WC: 1861 Masterpost CW: mentions of blood, past experimentation, and torture

Duke tugged the sleeves of the hoodie he had thrown on as he rolled out of bed down over his hands. The Cave was freezing. Usually the temperature was nice. Dressing up in layers of body armor and fighting crime made a person hot and the cool air of the Cave was a relief. When pulled out of bed by an all-hands meeting it was another story and so Duke tucked himself further in the hoodie.

He was pretty sure it wasn’t even his hoodie. This family (and those let into the inner circle) were almost all clothing thieves. Duke had even caught Wally West with his missing Gotham Academy hoodie once. The weird lack of boundaries had taken some getting used to. Seeing various family members naked for decontamination showers or medical procedures helped hurry that along. It was hard to care about who’s hoddie it was was after washing off cuddle pollen together.

The roar of a bike filled the Cave and Duke didn’t even look up. He knew the sound of Red Hood’s bike.

Man, he really had been in this family too long now, he thought and buried his face in his arms. Would they notice if he just went back to sleep?

“Perhaps some tea, Master Duke?”

Guess so.

“Thanks, Alfred,” Duke said and dragged himself properly upright to accept the mug of tea. At least it was warm.

Duke sipped at the tea, his favorite blend of course, as Jason sped into the Cave like the badass bastard he was. He spun his bike to a stop in one of the open spots.

“Hood,” Bruce addressed the other, the Batman™ gravel seeped into his voice even though he was dressed down in sweats, a hoodie Duke was pretty sure was actually Jason’s, and a brace on his wrist.

They all knew what Bruce meant though: report why an all-hands was called, why Tim wasn’t there, did those of them not suited up need to, was anyone they cared about hurt?

“No, old man, you report,” Jason said as he stalked up the steps towards them. “Who the fuck were you fucking fifteen years ago?”

Duke pinched himself to make sure he was actually awake and not still in bed having the most awkward dream. Alright, well, that hurt. So much for being saved from this conversation by the T-rex suddenly coming to life and breathing fire and them having to take it down with squirt guns and pool noodles.

He’d had some weird dreams since coming to live in the manor, alright?

“Um, ask what now, little wing?” Dick asked, looking between Jason and Bruce.

“I asked what I asked,” Jason said. He’d made it to the computer and they all turned obediently to look at the screen. Jason tugged off his helmet and set it down as he leaned against the console. “Who the fuck were you sleeping with at that time, Bruce?”

Bruce stared at Jason for a long moment. “Selina, mostly. Some socialites and such maybe still. What’s going on, Jason?”

“Oracle,” Jason said, not taking his eyes Bruce. “Red should have sent you some media. You’ll get why. Throw something fitting up on the screen.”

Despite what the superhero community and Gotham thought, everyone in the Cave knew that Batman was far from unflappable. They had all pulled one over on him before. But Duke had never seen Bruce looking like that before. As that image went up on the screen, it looked like someone had just shattered his brittle heart into pieces.

Duke couldn’t blame him. The sickly looking guy on the screen made Duke want to go find someone to punch and it wasn’t his face the other was wearing.

“Holy shit,” Steph whispered.

“Father, what is the meaning of this?” Damian ordered.

“Jay?” Dick prompted when Bruce seemed unable to find the words.

Jason scowled down at the ground. “Red and I were on patrol. He noticed… blood.”

Babs brought another image up on the left monitor without prompting. It was a Gotham alley like any other except it was splattered with a green spray.

“That is Lazarus water, that is not blood,” Damian said. His words were as haughty as ever, but there was a wobble under them.

“It’s blood for him,” Jason said. “Trust me. I held the kid as Red stitched him up. Knife wound. It was the only… new wound. Oracle, did Red send you…”

A new image popped up on the left screen and Jason closed his eyes. Duke had to swallow heavily and look away himself. He got now why Jason came in demanding who Bruce had slept with. Bruce’s heart was going to break all over again.

“Who?” Cass signed. Her motion was sharp and aggressive as she pulled her thumb from her chin after the sign.

“We don’t know,” Jason said. “He was jumpy.”

The picture of the horrible injuries was replaced by a video, clearly from Red’s suit. The guy was pressed against the wall, one hand gripped tight over the wet, green stain on his hoodie. He looked dwarfed in it.

“Hey, looks like you could use some help with that wound before you bleed out,” Tim said in the video. Duke could hear how he was keeping his tone carefully light.

“…just who are you supposed to be?” The guy’s voice could barely be heard.

“You must not be from Gotham. I’m Red Robin, one of the heroes here.”

The guy snorted, curling further into himself rather than relaxing at that. “So you’re just going to hand me over to the government then?”

Everyone in the cave stiffened at that, including Jason, which was interesting.

“Why would I do that? I’m a vigilante. Do you know how illegal what I do is? I just don’t want to see you bleed out. Maybe I can even take you to a safe house where you can rest.”

“So that you can interrogate me? No thanks.”

“I mean, I’d like to know who tried to kill a kid, but that’s to make them pay, not you.”

As the guy gave a horrible laugh, Duke reached out and touched Cass’ elbow, reminding her they were all there. These sort of things always hit her hard. She sent him a grateful smile before focusing back on the screen. “Maybe I deserve it.”

The guy tensed suddenly, weight shifting like he was about to bolt as the video slumped slightly sideways.

Jason’s voice rumbled from close to the camera. “You’re what, sixteen?”

“…fifteen?”

“Uncertain,” Cass spoke. Duke had to agree, the guy didn’t know how old he was, not for sure.

“Yeah, no fifteen year old deserves to bleed out. You know who I am?”

Duke tracked the motion of the hood as it slipped. The white hair was curious, considering Bruce, but if the guy was a meta or had been in the Lazarus Pits long enough… or worse, both…

“I’m Red Hood. I protect part of this city called Crime Alley. I’m not afraid to kill a shithead, especially ones that hurt kids, but I never harm a kid,” the Jason of the video said, something they all knew was true. It was an argument still often enough on bad days. “I’ve got places to put you if you needed somewhere safe; places not in the system. Or we can get you somewhere. Do you have a place to go to?”

The guy laughed again. “That’s the thing. I do. I might, I guess. Just no one is going to believe me.”

It was Tim who asked, “Why won’t they believe you? Where do you need to get?”

After the photo earlier, they all knew what the guy would look like when he lifted his head, but it still made Duke glance over at Bruce.

“I need to get to Bruce Wayne.”

-

Jason motioned and the video stopped there and went away.

Bruce closed his eyes.

I need to get to Bruce Wayne.

Another son he didn’t know about. Another son he failed to save from a horrible childhood because he didn’t know they existed.

“He didn’t want to see you right away, but we think that Tim and I convinced him that we could arrange a meeting between you and him,” Jason said.

“Of course,” Bruce answered instantly.

Jason just gave a little nod and explained, “He doesn’t trust the offer, or us, completely. It was enough to get him to the safe house. Passed out on the way.”

“And still asleep,” Tim piped up from the computer. “I’ve been running analysis on the… collar he’s wearing. It’s definitely a one off, but very professionally made. There’s, well, there was a tracker in it that’s been crushed. It’s meant to deliver a shock if someone messes with it, but I can disable that long enough to remove it.”

“You should wait until one of is is there,” Duke spoke up. “Just… in case there’s a reaction when it’s removed.”

Duke ducked his head when all eyes turned to him, still bashful as the newest member of the family. Bruce had been trying to reassure the other, but he knew that was far from his own strength. Clearly he needed to try a different approach.

“Just, you know, he’s clearly a meta? Of some type? It’s probably a containment collar and it could release a, you know, backlog? Of power?”

“Good thinking,” Bruce assured Duke.

“Someone better get here quick then. I hate seeing this thing on him,” Tim grumbled. At least he agreed.

Bruce looked back at the photo still on the center screen to the pale, drawn face. Even in sleep his son’s face was etched with pain.

“Bruce?” Dick prompted.

Bruce took a breath and made himself focus, to be Batman, not a grieving father. How often had he had to make that choice? “Dick, you and Jason both should go. Tim, as soon as the collar is off I want you and Oracle working on it but stay mindful of traps.”

“Will do,” Tim replied.

“And what of the rest of us?” Damian asked.

His youngest had come so far, but Bruce knew this would be a big disruption for him. They would have to watch him. He caught Cass’ eyes and she gave the slightest nod.

“I want Robin, Batgirl, and Spoiler out on the streets. Don’t ask questions yet, we don’t want to lead anyone to him, but get a sense of the mood around the big players. If this is already on anyone’s radar, I want to know.”

“And you need to make a list,” Jason said. “Kid talked in his sleep, begged his mom to stop. Could just be nightmares…”

“I’ll make one,” Bruce said. His bedroom proclivities were hardly what the papers reported, but with how this new son wasn’t certain of his age, it could be pre-Dick, or even at the start of Dick joining the family. It certainly meant there would be more names then any of the years later on. Whoever it was though, Bruce would find them.

He had to try and do that much for his son.

--- AN: Not entirely sure about Bruce's part here, but he's always harder for me to write! I think goal is to get at least one POV with all of the kids, so I guess Dick's is next likely! I'm super fuzzy today (fatigue, day fuck it, seven? Eight? Of this headache), so I hope this is at least decent~

Stay delightful, darlings!

I no longer tag, but you can subscribe to the masterpost to be notified!

#dp x dc #batpham #city pigeons #trauma tuesday

[steddie-as-they-come]

ok listen so i saw this tiktok where this girl was at a concert and the singer gave her his ring to hold for a song and then didn’t take it back and i knew i had to steddie-fy it. enjoy!

Steve didn’t know what he was doing there.

Robin had dragged him along to this bar to chaperone for her date with some metalhead girl, but sometime during the night she had disappeared into the bathroom to go make out with said girl, and Steve had been left alone at the front of the crowd.

Look, he never said he was a good chaperone, alright?

And now the next band was coming out.

Corroded Coffin stepped onto the stage, and Steve felt his mouth go dry.

The guy in front, the lead singer, was the hottest fucking guy he had ever seen.

He had dark, curly hair, was dressed in skinny-as-hell jeans, and his shirt had the sleeves cut off, as well as most of the seams on the side. When he raised his arms, Steve caught a glimpse of ink under the shirt.

The guy wrapped a ringed hand around the neck of his guitar, smiling devilishly at the crowd. “Ready for the most metal concert ever?”

The crowd screamed their approval, and Steve screamed along with them, not knowing what the fuck he was doing. He knew he looked so out of place among them, his soft yellow sweater a spotlight against the sea of black clothing and silver chains.

The singer strummed an experimental note, then frowned down at his hands. “Dammit, wore the wrong ring today.” He slid a ring off his right knuckle, then peered at the crowd. “Here.”

He pointed at Steve, whose heart froze. He tilted his head. “Me?”

“Yeah.” He lobbed the ring at Steve underhanded, who caught it gently. “Hold that for the rest of the show, alright, pretty boy?”

The guy backed up and started the count for his band, but Steve didn’t even hear when they started to play. He was too busy staring at the ring, turning it over and over again in his hand. It was a cool silver, with an amber stone inlaid in it.

He slid the ring onto his pinkie.

“Holy shit, Steve!” came a familiar voice in his ear. It was Robin, hair messed up and makeup smeared. “These guys are good!”

He laughed. “I see you had fun.”

“Steve. Steeeve. She is so fucking hot, dude.” Robin said, splaying over his shoulder. “She went to- where’d you get that?”

She was looking at the ring.

“Uh,” Steve said dumbly. “He gave it to me.” He pointed up at the lead singer, whose hair was flying everywhere as he belted into the mic. His voice was amazing, like a wrecking ball crashing through Steve’s heart.

“No fucking way.” came a voice from Steve’s other side. Robin’s date, Emily or Amelie or something like that, he couldn’t quite remember, said. “Eddie Munson gave you a ring?”

“Yeah?” Steve said. He plucked the cup out of her hands and passed it to Robin, who drained it. “Why?”

“Because he never takes them off. There’s band interviews of them where his band mates are complaining because Eddie won’t share. And he just gave you one?”

A particularly loud stomp broke them out of their trances and made Robin fall off Steve’s shoulder. Eddie must have seen they weren’t paying attention, and decided to make them pay attention, by jumping and landing right by Steve’s head.

Steve jolted back up, staring directly into Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie winked.

Steve felt his face grow hot, and even though he tried to tell himself it was only the stage lights reflecting onto his face, he knew that wasn’t it.

Corroded Coffin may not have been Steve’s taste in music, but he couldn’t deny they were good. Eddie, of course, stole the show, his undeniable stage presence drawing everyone in.

Including Steve, of course.

By the time the set was over, Corroded Coffin packed up their shit and left the stage. Steve was preoccupied with getting home.

As the two of them exited the bar in a stream of other patrons, he looked down at his hand.

The ring Eddie had given him was sitting innocently on his pinkie, twinkling up at him.

“Shit.” he whispered.

“What?” Robin asked. “Steve, what is it?”

“His ring. I think I was supposed to give it back at the end of the show.”

“Aw, really?” Robin said. “And here I was thinking he proposed.”

Steve shoved her, then dragged her out of the way of the doors. “Shut up, I gotta return this before he reports it as stolen.”

“I think the only thing that’s stolen is my heart.” someone said from behind him.

Steve whipped around.

Eddie.

“That was…really, really corny.” Steve said, trying to regain his footing. His entire brain was screaming “HOT BOY” at him, so it wasn’t really working. He thought he made a valiant effort, though. Robin had slunk off to hide somewhere and watch from afar, the traitor.

Eddie shrugged. “Eh, opportunity came up, had to take it.” He held out his hand to shake. “Eddie Munson.”

Steve took it. “Steve Harrington.”

He slid the ring off his finger and made to drop it into Eddie’s hand, but Eddie held up a hand. “Listen, I’ve decided you can keep it, but only if I get your number in return.”

“Really?” Steve crossed his arms, balling the ring into his fist. The cold metal pressed against his palm. “I’ve heard from one of your fans that you don’t even share your rings with your band mates. Why do I get one?”

“Let’s just say I’m curious about why a guy dressed like he just got out of a PTA conference is in my metal audience.” Eddie said.

Steve looked down at his sweater. “Okay, listen, it wasn’t a PTA meeting.” he said. “It was a bake sale.”

Eddie laughed. “Even better, Jesus. You’ve got to tell me more.”

“I’m free for lunch around one?” Steve offered.

“Perfect.” Eddie tapped his phone and offered it to Steve to put in his contact. “Text you soon, pretty boy.”

Steve was so preoccupied with watching him walk away, he didn’t realize he still had the ring.

#eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington

[hyewka]

“choke me. i want you to choke, choke me.”

“you’re—are you sure? like—”

it’s as if he has a sixth sense on when your nerves flare up because you then feel the warmth of his hand on yours, guiding it to his neck, “here. press here. i like it, it’s o-okay.”

the way he reassures you softly, with heavy-lidded eyes looking up at you, no doubt affected by your ass snuggling against his hard on, is a complete 180 to his usual demeanor—confidently outspoken, voice louder than most, someone you’d expect would want to take more charge in the bedroom.

but clearly, that’s far from the truth.

the more you press down on his neck, he’s inhaling through his nose in long deep breaths already, chest falling down then going up again—then you experimentally press your ass against his clothed erection even more and holy shit, he lets out a sound you could never imagine in even your wildest dreams coming from a man. so sinfully pretty, a gasp for air combined beautifully with a higher pitched whine, almost like a squeak, his eyes already glazing over like he’s totally out of it and might seriously jizz in his pants any second now. his face is perfect you realize, hes always been prettier than some of the girls you’ve been with.

in panic at seeing him turning a pinkish hue you snap out of whatever spell beomgyu had just casted on you and you get your hands off him.

“fuck,” he groans, inhaling through his mouth some much needed air, like he was a fish on land.

“are you okay? was i too hard on you???” your eyes slightly widen at seeing the red imprint on his neck—shit, you might’ve really hurt him-

“i need you to do that again. please, fuck, why’d you stopp..” he whines reaching out for your wrist, unknowingly bucking his hips chasing some friction again.

there was always one thing about beomgyu that had told you he’d be a freak, and likes it freaky but holy shit.

#🌷. rana thoughts #sub!gyu #experimenting with bsf!gyu 🤔

[slughtt]

thinking about finding out virgin!coryo has a hair pulling and mommy kink🙈🙈

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ⋆

you guys would definitely be in a heated make out. you would be sat on his lap with him desperately grabbing at your hips. the make out would have started off as some innocent kisses while he was doing an assignment but shortly turning into something more.

he would just be so stressed out from the academy and trying to be nothing but perfect all the time, so letting you take the lead during kisses is quite common between the two of you. the kisses would be so so messy and desperate. coryo is practically forcing your hips to grind down on his borderline painful bulge.

your hands are grabbing him everywhere, fisting his shirt all the while leaving gorgeous purple and red marks all over his pale flesh. and once you start putting more force into grinding your clothed cunt against his erection he thinks he might combust with how fucking needy he is.

you guys are both moaning against each other, too caught up in how good it feels for the both of you to care about anything else.

"sh-shit baby" he would let out with a choked groan, hands gripping your hips so hard it's like he is scared you are going to go somewhere. and in all honesty he was holding himself back for the most part until your perfectly manicured hands tangled into his blonde locks and tugged.

the absolute force of your pull has his hips bucking up against yours and a fucking whine is spilling from his lips. you, obviously taken back by such a strong reaction pull yourself away from his neck to look him in the eyes. your hips are completely still now as he tries so hard to thrust his hips up into yours. but holy shit are you glad you pulled away because of how devine he looks.

his eyes are swirling with lust, his wide eyes looking up at you begging for more, neck practically purple, lips red and swollen. you want to poke fun at how desperate he looks is after a bit of grinding and hair pulling but instead you let out a giggle, whispering a quiet "yeah?" before you resume your movements against him.

before he can even process his embarrassment you’re back to leaving kisses along his chest and neck, grinding yourself against him even harder. his whimpering is so high pitched and soft you honestly could have mistaken him for a girl. you grip his hair again and give it an experimental tug, just to make sure he wants you to continue to tug at it. and he is shaking, letting his head fall into your shoulder, practically in tears at how horny he is.

"harder...please please" he gasps, gripping your hips to control your movements against his clothed cock. and who are you to deny him when he looks and sounds as pretty as he does right now. and so you pull again, slightly harder than before and you hear a "fuck mommy" leave his lips before he is pulling away from your shoulder absolutely terrified.

every bone in his body is praying that you didn’t hear him, but even he knows that you couldn’t miss something like that.

you lock eyes with him and his icy blue eyes are filled with tears. coryo is searching for an ounce of disgust or shame in your eyes once he realizes what he said. and when he find absolutely none he visibly relaxes. "it's okay coryo" you shush him, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

coryo was too focused on his slip up he hadn't even realized how close he had become until it was too late.

"wait-wait" coriolanus pleads "i'm gonna...f...fuck" his words interrupted by the moans spilling from his beautiful lips. you are too caught up in your fascination of coryo that what he was saying hardly process in your mind. so you tug on his hair as hard as you can and bite down on his neck which has his orgasm hitting him with no warning.

his hands fly to your hips, pushing his cock against your cunt. cum floods his boxers as he all but cries into your shoulder, literally humping you like a fucking dog. "oh my god...that's so-fuckk mommy" he whines as tears fall down his face in embarrassment and cum soaks his boxers and your panties. his body shaking and twitching against yours.

he feels like he is cumming for an eternity and once he finally finishes, he releases his grip on you. pulling his face out of your shoulder he looks up at you, and you are obviously in shock because of how little you had to do to make him all worked up like that.

"i'm so sorry" he lets out but you just shush his self degrading up by giving him a peck on the lips, giggling because you knew you were going to have some fun with him.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ⋆

okay this isn't proofread so not too much on me ALRIGHT? but also be real with me right now bc i might just start writing fr bc the IDEASSSSS i have ughhhhhh

#coriolanus smut #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #coryo smut #coryo snow #sub coryo #president snow #aesthetic #art #hunger games #the hunger games #tbosas #sejanus plinth #coriolanus fanfiction #corio snow #catching fire #smut #fanfic

[show-your-fangs]

I request very politely, you better continue the camgirl story with all the smut there is or I'm suing 😫 Some proper thigh action would be nice 🤭

there's no thigh riding in this one, but it will happen i promise my darling, i owe you and i will deliver.

The Contract | Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner

The Secrets We Keep (a Bunny and Clyde story) - Part Two

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner x BAU/cam girl!Reader

Words: 5.6k

CW: 18+, mdni, nsfw.

Tags/warnings: D/s relationship, master!hotch x sub!reader, sex work (is real work), power imbalance/play, reader works at the bau and is a secret cam girl, hotch is a customer, pet names (bunny, sweet girl, good girl), (semi public) mutual masturbation, cum play, aftercare (is important istfg).

a/n: this fucking series and i...holy shit i cannot get enough of it. it's all i think about every day, i just can't stop thinking about them. my apologies to moments, it has been dethroned in my heart.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

His lips were on you just as quickly as his hands. 

It was overwhelming, your legs practically going numb as he pulled you into his room, all you could think to do was desperately try to deepen the kiss. He didn’t hold back, he couldn’t hold back, even if he wanted to, and thankfully you didn’t want that either. 

You opened your mouth for him as his hands ran down your back to grab your ass, greedy, possessive, as if it had always belonged to him. He pulled you off the ground, maneuvering your legs to wrap around his waist. You obeyed without question, your legs holding onto him tightly as your arms hooked behind his neck. 

It was a fervor of tongues clashing, teeth grazing, hands digging into soft skin. His finger nails dug harshly into your plush ass, eliciting a squeal from your throat. He groaned into the kiss in response, swiftly walking back towards the king size bed in his room and slamming you down on it. 

You moaned into his mouth, the roughness only getting you going even more. He was sure he was living a dream, his heart beating so fast it was sure to explode. He pressed his body down over yours, enveloping you whole with his weight, keeping you trapped between him and the mattress.

It wasn’t that he thought you would escape, it was more that he didn’t even want to give you the option. You ground your hips into his crotch then, desperate hands trying to rip his shirt off his back. 

He pulled back from the kiss, making sure to bite down on your bottom lip and tug as far as he was able before you tensed under him. Only then did he let go, swiftly pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it somewhere in the dark room. 

You were panting hard, your ears were ringing, your chest and face were most definitely flushed crimson. You could feel him press his crotch into yours, hard, stiff, warm. So warm it almost made you melt into him. 

Your hands immediately traced over his back, fingers gliding over every muscle, every ride, every dimple. His own returned to your body just as hungrily, his fingers gently tracing down your chin, your neck, your arms, your sides, before they made their home on your hips, squeezing them experimentally to gauge your reaction.

You hummed, running your own arms down his chest to pull him closer to you once more. This was everything, it was too much, having your boss so close, so warm against your core, so desperate and needy for you, just like user1102, was making your head feel dizzy with pleasure.

“Please, Master,” you whined. “I need—”

Your stomach growled loudly then, reminding you that you were actually starving.

You couldn’t help the giggle that erupted out of your mouth and into his, his own lips curling into a soft smile as he pressed them to yours one final time before he detached himself completely from your body. 

You sat yourself up, eyes watching his every move like a hawk. He turned on the light, the faint glow from the one at the entrance of his room not enough as he now needed the entire room to be bathed in it, to sober him up enough to be able to restrain himself from taking you right then and there. 

He turned to face you the second that it did, to fully take you in, to make sure that it hadn’t been a dream. You were still there, still panting softly, still looking at him with those round, expressive eyes he adored. 

“When did you figure it out?” you asked him softly, clearly eager to fill the overwhelming silence that had taken over the room. 

He walked over to the mini bar and poured a glass of water before he finally addressed you. 

“I started to suspect the day you hit your foot at the office.”

Your eyes widened immediately, your cheeks flushing in response as you remembered that you’d seen him that same night…privately. You fell back on the bed, hands covering your face in embarrassment. 

“No!” you whined. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You felt him walk back over to the bed and sit on the other side, far away and yet incredibly close. 

“I wasn’t sure,” he replied, gently nudging you to look at him. 

You took a short, steadying breath before you let your hands slip away from your face, eyes finally adjusting and making out the glass of water and sandwich he’d bought for himself in his hands. 

You smiled brightly, the prospect of Hotch, of your boss, of user1102 taking care of you, made your heart flutter. You got up to your knees, carefully taking the two items before you settled criss cross on the bed in front of him. 

“What about now?” you asked him in between gulps of water, remembering all the other times he’d watched you drink it diligently after a particularly demanding scene. “What do you want now that you know?”

He took the glass back from you and placed it on the bedside table once it was empty. “Good girl,” the words spilled out of his mouth out of habit and you immediately stilled, the heat in your lower belly slowly starting to build back up.

He noticed your reaction, subtle and yet it made him feel like the most powerful person in the world. 

“We shouldn’t,” he stated as a matter of fact. “Not right now.”

Your face immediately fell into a deep pout, almost unconsciously looking at him with wide, pleading eyes. He sighed deeply, looking down to break the spell you clearly had him under, his hands clutching onto the bed covers tightly. 

“The things I want to do to you, sweet girl,” his voice was strained, hoarse, heavy on his chest. You were practically buzzing with anticipation, one second away from allowing your judgement to lapse and leap across the bed into his arms. 

But you knew he was right. You knew you shouldn’t rush into this, as much as you trusted him, as much as you knew him, as much as he made your heart practically leap out of your chest with a simple glance.

You didn’t have a lot of time, your mind already racing with excuses to give Emily if you found her still awake when you got back to the room. 

“I want,” he started, voice calm, collected, clear. “I want to be your Dom, bunny.” He watched your reaction to his words like a hawk. Your entire body tensed, all the memories of your encounters over the past few months crashing down on you like a tidal wave. Only you weren’t drowning, but rather being filled with so much air it was overwhelming.

Your gaze met his, the rest of his face devoid of any emotion, and yet his brown eyes were overflowing with them. He was terrified, positively horror-stricken about how you may react, about losing not only your friendship but also the outlet of release he’d grown to depend on. 

But instead, you just beamed at him. You threw your things on the mattress before you shot back up to your knees and shuffled across the bed towards him. 

He let you, his heart going so fast he couldn’t feel his arms or legs. You sat yourself over his lap, arms wrapping around his neck again before your lips were on his. It was a soft kiss, so soft he almost thought it hadn’t happened. But then it did again, and again, and again, and again, and soon enough you were devouring him in the sweetest kisses he’d ever experienced.

His heart swelled, his hands shooting up to wrap around your back, pressing you tightly against him once more. “Is that a yes?”

“Enthusiastically,” you smiled before leaning back down to place another kiss on his now puffy lips. 

And just like that, he had everything.

You returned to your room soon after, sandwich in hand and dizzy with happiness. He’d asked you to text him when you made it back, a small test to gage just how enthusiastic you were about this, and you hadn’t disappointed him, going as far as to reassure him that you really, really, really wanted this.

Aaron couldn’t sleep that night, he couldn’t get his mind to stop racing, his heart to calm down, his excitement to dwindle enough for him to even close his eyes. The adrenaline coursing through his veins was more powerful than after he’d run a marathon, and he needed to channel it into something or else he was going to go crazy.

He thought about touching himself, about relieving the ache in his crotch, but he’d told you not to even think about touching yourself, wanting to frustrate you just enough until the two of you entered an official agreement. And so he didn’t do it either, it was only fair.

Instead he sat himself at the small desk that came with the room and he wrote. He wrote everything he could think of, everything he wanted to do to you, how he wanted to take you, how he wanted to take care of you, how he wanted to punish you, how he wanted to dominate you. 

He wrote until his alarm sounded and the sun started to fill the world outside in a faint warm glow. He wrote until Dave was knocking on his door to make sure he was alright. It was only then, when he’d finished writing everything, that he snapped back into reality, got himself ready for the day, and stepped out to meet the rest of the team. 

He’d made sure to keep you as far away from him the entire day, not trusting himself to not linger, to not lose focus, to not give himself a single reason to take you in the precinct bathroom. 

You had a suspect in custody by early afternoon, and he’d made sure to keep you in the precinct with Reid, where you were safe. He was sure you knew why he’d made the call, it was pretty obvious and would definitely be one of the things that the two of you had to discuss. 

But it didn’t matter, at least not right now. You didn’t even think to disobey, didn’t even think about the fact that he was definitely doing this because of everything that had happened the night before, didn’t even begin to let the new dynamic between the two of you settle. You’d been distracted all day, desperately trying to not allow your feelings for him to show. 

It was dark by the time you boarded the plane back to Quantico, everyone pretty much determined to get some rest before you made it back. The couch was the first to go, Morgan and Reid fighting over it like children until Morgan won out, immediately plopping down on it and turning his headphones on high. 

Rossi and Spencer took up the single seats facing the bathroom and kitchen while Emily and JJ took up a double seater, leaving you and Aaron at the head of the plane alone. You sat next to the window by yourself, as far away from JJ and Emily as you could just in case he had other plans than sleeping. 

It took everything in him to not sit down next to you right away, the action would’ve been too obvious with all the empty seats around. And so for the first twenty minutes of the flight, you sat alone, waiting, trying to distract yourself by looking out the window. 

He’d been staring at you relentlessly, impatiently waiting for the plane to stabilize in the air before thinking about approaching. He’d sat himself down at the perfect angle to watch you, his laptop light being the only one illuminating the otherwise pitch black plane. 

He’d been reading the contract again, making sure that whatever he’d written in his sleep deprived and incredibly horny state was actually coherent, and properly worded before sending it to you. 

Once he was sure everyone else was asleep, once he made sure that everything was worded as clearly as possible since there was no need for any twisted legal jargon, once he made sure that he was calm and collected enough, he hit send and watched as your phone lit up on the table beside you. 

Your attention was finally brought back to the room, your hand shakily picking up the device before you saw what he’d sent you. He’d been smart to send it to your encrypted chat instead of to your official email, but it didn’t make it any less daunting, the lines between you and Aaron, and bouncingbunny1 and user1102 officially blurring. 

You didn’t even dare glance in his direction, terrified of what it would do to you when you caught a glimpse of just how pent up he was. Instead you opened the file and began reading. 

To say he was thorough was an understatement. You knew Aaron never did things halfway, never did things without thinking them through, and he’d clearly been thinking about this for a while. 

He’d confessed early on in your private sessions that he’d never done anything like this before, never demanded complete control over someone in the way that he wanted over you. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious, willing to put in the work and learn. 

You’d spent the entire first month just learning each other’s limits, him learning yours and discovering his own. By the second month he was more confident, eager to try things he’d found, determined to start having fun after setting up the foundation of trust between the two of you. 

You had been enthusiastic from the start, never actually having someone exert this amount of dominance over you before. Sure, you’d had a few partners who were rough and liked to sometimes use you in the way you truly craved, but it had never been like this. You’d never gotten to explore the lifestyle this fully, with rules and requirements and clauses in place to protect yourself and your partner.  

By the third month you’d gotten into a very comfortable routine with user1102, knew what to expect from your sessions, and it was through that knowledge that you somehow became even more excited to meet with him.

But there was just so much you could do, so much he could do to keep things interesting, to fill the ache in your chest, to fill the ache in your core. Your fingers had quickly become not enough so you’d started to use toys, and after a while even that wasn’t enough. You wanted him, needed him, craved him, in the flesh, to do the things he’d been making you do to yourself.

There had been a particularly tough case few weeks back that had you aching and desperate. You’d made it back home worked up, almost as badly as the first time you’d met him, and all you could think about was needing to be fucked so hard you forgot your name. 

You were so close to biting the bullet, so close to asking him to meet face to face, so close to begging for him to come use you. But you knew you shouldn’t, knew that no matter how much you trusted him, you’d never seen his face, didn’t even know his name, and that could’ve been disastrous. 

You didn’t realize you’d started rubbing your thighs together until you accidentally tapped your clit against the rough hem of your underwear. Your mouth was watering, your chest was practically heaving, your eyes clouded in lust as you read through the list of kinks that he had so thoroughly provided. 

It was long, from calmer ones like spanking to the rougher ones he’d told you he fantasized about like collars and leashes. He was so perfect, your kinks lining up so perfectly that it almost felt like he’d been made just for you…or maybe you’d been made just for him, for each other. 

You knew he was watching you from across the aisle, knew he was making sure to catch every reaction, every thought, every time your breath hitched. He needed to see it all, needed to know that you were consenting enthusiastically every step of the way, because even an ounce of hesitation and he would put a stop to it immediately.

bouncingbunny1: Master?

You bit down on your lip as you watched him pick up his phone, his attention off you and back on you virtually exhilarating. 

user1102: Yes, bunny?

bouncingbunny1: May I please please please please pretty please touch myself?

He fought the urge to slam his laptop and cross the aisle towards you. Instead he took a steadying breath, daring to look at you, your puppy eyes and disarming pout barely visible in the low light of your phone screen. 

But the little that he saw was enough to make him lose it, to finally realize that it didn’t matter just how much he wanted to be in control of you, you would always be in control of him first. Whatever you wanted, he would give to you, and the thought didn’t scare him, instead it only made him want you more. 

user1102: Go to the bathroom and wait for me in there.

He watched as you locked your phone, plunging you in darkness once more before you slid out of your seat and made your way to the back of the plane. He waited impatiently for a few minutes, the anticipation of what he was about to do, to make you do, to see, finally in the flesh, made his heart beat rise like bile up his throat.

He finally stood, slowly yet surely walking across the plane, carefully making sure that no one had woken up, that no one knew what was happening. He didn’t need the looks, didn’t need wandering eyes to put two and two together, wanted to keep this just between the two of you, the privacy you deserved to figure whatever this was out the most important thing in his mind. 

He stood in front of the unlocked bathroom for a second, steadying himself, getting out of his head and allowing him to slip into the role he’d been dreaming of playing for so long. 

The bathroom was barely big enough for two people, but he squeezed in there regardless, his back pressed to the door tightly so that he didn’t touch you. You were just as overwhelmed as he was, your chest rising and falling deeply, your eyes glossed over with desire, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your skirt. 

He smirked to himself, the knowledge that you had gone to the bathroom before you left the precinct and changed into a skirt because you knew some version of this exact thing would happen almost enough to make him want to deny you of the pleasure. 

He wanted to keep this professional, like it had been every time he called. One last time for old time’s sake, one last time before you were both responsible about this and discussed everything that he’d just sent you, one last time before you signed your names on a piece of paper that made you his officially. Only then would he allow himself to touch you, to worship you, to give you everything you wanted. 

“On the counter,” he told you, eager to put some space between the two of you. 

He watched you like a hawk, starving eyes following every twitch, every breath, every movement diligently. Your brain processed his words and you stepped forward, jumping on the vanity and waiting patiently for his next command. It had been like this for a while, this understanding of each other, of receiving and accepting.

He moved to face you, so close to you, to your open legs, to where he desperately craved to be. And still far enough that you were starting to get desperate, needy, whiny with each second that his hands weren’t on you.

“Bunch your skirt around your waist,” he continued, his strong hand coming up to rest over his growing erection. 

You did as he said, eyes never leaving his. Your hands shook over your sheer tights, almost eagerly hooking under them and pulling them down your legs. But you stopped yourself, returning your hand back to its place against the sink to hold you up. 

“Good girl,” he praised, his hand squeezing himself through his pants. That’s when you caught onto his game, caught onto what he was going to ask you to do since that was exactly what you had asked after all. “You can take them off now.”

You’ve never taken off your tights faster. There was always an issue, always something they got hooked on or an area where they stuck to your skin. But tonight they slid off your legs without so much as a beat too late. You tossed them to the side hurriedly and were met with an amused chuckle from the man in front of you. 

But as much as he was trying to appear calm and collected, his hand had tightened his movements, his grip on himself clearly eager as well. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, clearly enjoying the sight, the sight that he’d never allowed you to see, the sight that you’ve been fantasizing about for months. 

“Go ahead, make yourself cum, bunny,” he groaned, back pressing against the wall farther to hold himself up. 

Your cheeks immediately flushed crimson, embarrassment washing over you in burning hot waves. It was silly, you knew that. You’d done that and so much more for him, because of him for months. He’s probably seen you in as many positions, with as many toys, cumming in just as many ways — and yet this is what got you. 

Make yourself cum. Make yourself cum while your boss watched you, make yourself cum while user1102 touches himself, make yourself cum while Aaron held your stare in his and completely shattered whatever platonic friendship the two of you have built for the past year.

“Don’t get shy on me now, sweet girl,” he cooed, his hand stilling its movements as an incentive for you to start yours.

You took one final steadying breath before you plunged, damning every self conscious thought you had into the darkest pits of your brain.

Your left hand slid down your stomach, teasing, making him pay for what he’s doing to you, as you pulled your legs up on the vanity, knees bent towards your chest.

His eyes glimmered in the light of the bathroom, his mouth slowly hanging open in anticipation, practically salivating for you. 

You pressed your back against the mirror as your fingers hooked into your panties, pulling the completely soaked material to the side, exposing your slick folds to him. You watched him eagerly as he took in a sharp breath, his eyes darting between yours and your heat. 

He was quick to reward you, his own hands unbuckling his belt unbearably slow. Two could play at this game, but neither of you had the patience for it right now. Your right hand flew right to your pussy, fingers quickly tracing the length of your folds, gathering your wetness towards your clit. 

You moaned, just for him, just to remind him of what he should be doing as well, and he wasted no time sliding his zipper down and greedily pulling his cock out of his underwear. 

You forgot how to breathe for a second, your brain struggling to process what it was seeing. He was big, bigger than your fantasies had concocted, bigger than you ever though he could’ve been, bigger than you knew what to do with. He smirked at the attention, stepping forward to bring it back to his face. 

“Spit in my hand, bunny,” he extended his open palm to you and you could’ve sworn your head had exploded. 

It took you a second to decide what to do. Your right hand returned to your aching entrance, gathering as much of your arousal as you could before you slapped your slick covered fingers against his palm. 

He groaned loudly, so much so that it made your walls clench around nothing as even more leaked out of you. Before he could pull back, you brought his hand forward. You gathered as much saliva as you could in your mouth before leaning forward, eyes staring up at him filled with innocence, and you let the spit fall through your pursed lips onto his hand, mixing with the rest of your juices. 

“Oh bunny, you’re killing me,” he moaned, his now drenched hand wrapping around his cock swiftly. 

You smiled up at him, prideful, filthy, lustful, before your hand returned to its previous motions. You focused your energy on your clit now, slow and tight circles, matching the pace he subconsciously set. 

As much as Aaron had revered to watch you pleasure yourself through his screen, that had been nothing compared to the real deal, to having you displayed in front of him, to knowing that he could reach out and touch you if he wanted. 

“Finger yourself with your other hand,” he said through gritted teeth, the roughness of his hand around his sensitive tip almost pushing him over the edge. But he wasn’t done, he didn’t want to be, at least not yet.

You did as he wanted, making sure to open your legs wider so that he could watch as your fingers slid in and out of you. He moaned then, the sound practically vibrating in tandem with the airplane around you, making you almost feel him all around you.

He picked up his pace, strokes becoming more and more aggressive as he encouraged you to do the same. He was close, you could tell, and it swelled your chest with pride.

Usually you had to hear him closely, listen for those grunts that always let you know he was getting there. But seeing how his jaw tensed, how his breathing strained, how his hand squeezed harder around himself — you could not take it, your own tension building.

He knew that reaction well. He’d seen you wear it many times before. Your fingers were curling meticulously against your g-spot, your other ones picking up their pace over your clit while your thighs began to close together, seeking to relieve the tension. 

But what made it even sweeter was the way he could now see your desire plastered all over your face, like you were the easiest book he’d ever read.

You looked at him, pleading, a broken shell of the confident agent he’d gotten the chance to know, turned into the slut he knew you could be. He took another step forward, his erection unbelievably close to your entrance, one more step and his tip would be in you. 

You let out a gasp, your gaze frozen on the minuscule distance between your bodies. You wanted him to move forward, needed him to fill you up and relief the ache inside of you. But he didn’t. He wouldn’t and you knew it well.

Even then, in your desperation, you admired his determination to do things the right way. You both needed release, both craved it desperately, but he was not about to jeopardize your future relationship, one that needed to be built on of trust and communication and respect, for a quickie in the jet’s bathroom.

“Cum for me, bunny,” he told you, his voice gruff. You whimpered, allowing yourself to tune into the wave and ride it until it exploded within you. 

You moaned loudly, your fingers not letting up their movements as you rode out your orgasm. Your walls clenched around your fingers, a gush of wetness pouring out of you to coat them in your slick. 

His own strokes stilled for a moment, watching you come undone, savoring the fruits of his labor, waiting for you to come down from your high. It was only when your fingers slid out of you and you stilled your moments completely that he returned to his own. 

“Can I cum in your panties, sweet girl?” he asked, his words getting tangled up in the unholy sounds spilling out of him. 

You were hazy, your mind desperately trying to hold onto reality, onto your wits, onto the sound of his voice because you were terrified that if you didn’t, this would all disappear into thin air, back into the dream that you’d had for so long. 

“Yes,” you managed, your shaky hand lifting up the front of your panties so that he could spill his seed over you. 

His movements became erratic then, strokes became tugs, and just as quickly as it had began, it ended. He fully stepped into your personal space, his other hand wrapping around your thigh to keep you in place as he emptied himself into the wet cotton of your panties. 

Your slick mixed with his spend, hot and heavy on your skin, clearly meant to mark you as his. He moaned into your ear, low, unhinged, euphoric, and you couldn’t help but whimper in return. 

You were so far gone, so little and malleable, so much so that you knew that whatever he asked you to do then, you’d do it without question. Your head fell on the crook of his neck, labored breaths filling the room as he gently unhooked your fingers from your underwear to place it back to cover you. 

He couldn’t stop looking at the white substance seeping through your panties, the squishy and lewdly wetness against your skin making him excited to fill your pussy up until you were leaking him everywhere. 

You stayed like that for a few minutes. He knew he couldn’t keep you like that, couldn’t ask you to walk back out there and act as though nothing had happened, couldn’t risk you getting a rash because of his own ego. 

At some point he tucked himself back into his boxers, getting himself back to the pristine put together image that he always was. He waited until you’d calmed down a little more before he cupped your face with his hands, pulling you to look at him again. 

“Bunny, I’m going to get you all cleaned up, alright?” 

You nodded, eyes sleepily blinking shut longer and longer. He set you back against the mirror, grabbing one of the towels and wetting it before he gently ran it over your hands and the inside of your thighs. 

He set the towel to the side before he hooked his index fingers in your panties, pulling them down your legs before tossing them into the sink. He cleaned your pussy gently, making sure to get every last bit of the two of you off your delicate skin. 

Once he was done, he patted you dry with another towel, reaching over to where your tights had landed to pick them up. He got on his knees, a sight that had you perking up just enough to catch him staring up at you with so much adoration you honestly didn’t know what to do with it. 

It took everything in you not to melt right into his tough, to stay awake enough even though his warm finger riding up your legs was enough to lull you to sleep. It was only when he needed to hoist your tights over your ass that he picked you up, placing you back down on your shaky legs.

“Can you do me one last favor, sweet girl?” he whispered and you did your best to nod. “Can you pee for me? I don’t want you getting a UTI.”

You sighed deeply, being diligent not something you were looking forward to in that moment. But you nodded again, and he rewarded you with a soft kiss to your temple before he stepped outside of the bathroom to give you some privacy.

Once you were done, he walked you back to his seat on the plane, not caring if anyone saw because he knew that even if they did, they wouldn’t say anything at all. He made sure you were comfortable, wrapped in a blanket, buckled into the seat for safety, before he made his way back to the bathroom. 

He cleaned everything up, going through his own routine before he washed his hands, pocketed your still damp panties, and made sure nothing looked out of place. He then grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before making his way back to you.

He sat beside you, his hand softly grazing your cheek to wake you up long enough to press the bottle on your lips, silently urging you to drink. 

You did without question, almost as if you’d done this all your life, the motion nothing more than routine, easy, normal. 

“Master?” you whispered sweetly after he deemed you’d drank enough. 

“Yes, bunny?”

“Can I have a kiss please?”

“Of course, sweet girl,” his nose tickled your own before his lips landed on yours, gentle, kind, perfect. You hummed against him, eyes closing for the final time before sleep overtook you. 

He smiled proudly, his heart so full, so content, so excited for what the future had in store for the first time in a very long time. He watched you sleep the rest of the flight, watched you curl further into him, watched you reciprocate all of the feelings that had been plaguing him since the night before.

You wanted him just as much as he wanted you, and that was all he needed to lay the self-sabotage to bed, to allow himself to drift off to sleep, even if it was just for a few minutes so that he could fully take you in, because all he really needed was you curled into his side like you belonged there all along.

fucking hell i am oN MY KNEES for this man. honestly what a fucking jOY it is to write them.

send me more requests for bunny and clyde!! i don't really have a series planned for them so i'm down to just write requested scenarios and play around with where their story goes.

tags: @canuck-eh, @ssamorganhotchner, @xladyxdreamer, @gr3enflowers, @lilyviolets, @howabouticallyou, @shadowmemory, @simp4f1, @honeylovemoon, @powelvr25

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner smut #sugar daddy!hotch #dom hotch #master hotch #show your fangs writes #the secrets we keep #bunny and clyde #hotch x reader

[yzashaven]

can i req needy dom scara..

Like like like like ... he goes away on a mission for wayyy too long.. and the moment he slips inside he starts mumbling and groaning about how much he needed this and how much he missed it..

there isn't an emoji for how blushy and giggly this man makes me holy shit explodes

FEATURING ! scaramouche x fem!reader

CONTENTS ! needy scara ngh, bit of fluff at the start (i tried), some praise(?), reader gets called love, baby, and good girl, creampie, nipple play like once, desperate fucking

NOTE ! WAHHHH I LOVE THAT SO MUCH ANONNN SOOOO i really hope i did your ask proper justice despite being finished late 🙏 not rly proofread

being away from your lover is definitely excruciating, especially if it's for a long time. your boyfriend, scaramouche, is making you feel that pain right as we speak. but you still do your best to understand that he can't just abandon his duties, even if it meant consequences like thisㅡbeing away from you for roughly 3 months now. archons, you just hope that he's doing alright and nothing bad happened to him. when you visited him at his base at the zapolyarny palace, a few subordinates were guarding around the area. it was easy for you to make your way inside since scaramouche made sure that everyone knew of you and your relationship. a few soldiers greeted you but you ignored them and kept walking pretty quickly, eager to just see him again already. once outside of his office, you turn the handle only to find out that it's locked. reaching into your purse and grabbing a spare key he gave you before unlocking the said door. once you opened it, there he is.

scaramouche was standing at the front of his desk laying down a bunch of paperwork about his recent investigations seeming busy like always. upon hearing the door suddenly open, he sighs deeply as his voice was laced with the usual aggressive and rudeness. "ever heard of knocking? what do you want?" he practically yelled which caught you off guard but stood your ground, you were used to this, closing the door behind and locking it once again. he rubs his temples before turning around with an angry look on his face, "i said what do youㅡah..." his gaze softens, "...my love." you rush to embrace him tightly, fingers combing through your hair as he plants a kiss on the top of your head, "i missed you." you whisper out, leaning into his chest to listen to his heartbeat. "i missed you too, love. but i'm back now so..."

ㅡ♡

"fuck, you feel so good..." scaramouche whimpers out as he slowly pushes himself inside you, one inch at a time. once it was all was situated deep inside you, he let out a groan followed by a few experimental gentle thrusts of his hips. "i-i missed this feeling so much-ah..." he says, slowly pulling back until only the tip is inside your wet hole only to gently push back all the way inside, "i needed this, i really did. i needed you so bad." his hands slip under your thighs to hold them apart, allowing him to reach deeper places that made you mewl out in utter pleasure, moaning his name. leaning down to plant kisses along your neck all the while he begins to move his hips at a slow pace that gradually accelerated as the feeling of desperation fills his body. movements sharp and fast yet his words were what seemed of submission, want and need, lost in the addictive feeling.

"s-so good, so fucking good." he says as a raspy whisper directly in your ear, sending shivers to your body. one of his hands make their way up your body to grope one of your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipple by flicking it gently and pinching at it. faster and harder, he goes. driving you ever so closely to the edge. "i want you to cum on my cock." scaramouche locks his eyes with yours, gaze soft yet stern in a way. "can you do that for me like the good girl you are?" now, his voice is a bit shaky as he feels himself growing closer as well, wanting to reach that release together as if in perfect harmony. you nod frantically, legs shaking as your orgasm feels so so sooo close. "c-cumming...scara!" you cry out as you writhe underneath him. and to add to that, his hand that was previously on your breast is suddenly now at your clit, rubbing it lovingly.

"cum for me, please. i'm so fucking close-nghh..." it seems as if he's the one begging you this time. "cum for me... cum with me. please, baby, i need to feel you orgasm around me." his tone becomes even more needy and desperate than it already was. along with his thrusts, speed increasing in attempts to reach deeper into you and get both of you to let go of that knot at the same time. his breathing uneven as whimpers and groans are all that left his agape lips. soon enough, you cum undone right then and there and even feel a certain warmness fill up your pussy, and reaching the womb it seems. after calming down, he looks at your panting figure below him before smirking mischievously.

"i don't wish to tire you, but please... i need more of you, i missed you too much."

#☾★ written » #☾★ kuni » #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #genshin smut #genshin imagines #genshin x reader

[xxsunoosprincess]

HOLY SHIT THE OT6 KINKS?? JAKE??? TICKLING??? PLEASE I NEED MORE OF THIS IM BEGGING - <3

For some reason I don’t think Jake is that well-versed in the kink world so everything he likes he figured out through his own experimentation. Tickle kink is no different me thinks…

(smut below the cut, minors DNI)

Jake has always been super clingy with you. He loves to cuddle and hold your hand and play wrestle so I think this kinda came naturally. Maybe one day you had to leave but he really didn’t want you to so he lays on top of you with his full body weight. He nuzzles himself into the crook of your neck as he whines out “please don’t leave, y/n.”. You can’t help but giggle because his breath on your skin tickles!! You tell him this, that your neck is really sensitive as you bat him away and it unleashes a beast in him. “Oh you mean here?” He whispers in your ear with a cheeky grin before blowing cool air at the side column of your neck. It has you shying away and squirming in his hold and he has to bite back a moan. It’s obvious he is affected by this though, you can feel the way he is filling out in his lounge shorts.

“I don’t have time to suck you off, I really have to be on time!” You lightly scold him when he grinds his half-hard dick against your thighs. It makes him whine about you being unfair, and when you laugh back “how am I being unfair, I didn’t even do anything” as you finally escape his hold, he turns bright red and shyly mumbles out some bullshit excuse. He honestly doesn’t know what about this specific interaction turned him on either. While he finds your irresistibly hot, he can’t help but think it has something to do with the fact that your giggles are still ringing in his ears.

About a thousand kisses later, you are finally out the door, and Jake is back in bed tugging on his hard cock and thinking about how precious you sounded when you laughed and how cute you looked squirming underneath him :(

It just progresses from there. You wonder why he has you in missionary so often, but it’s just so he has ample access to your body. He hands seems to be glued to your torso, his mouth to your neck. And god, he never stops running his mouth. “You like that baby? You like when I fuck you like this?” with each sentence punctuated by sharp thrusts. The feeling of his hands and the whispers into your ear and his thick cock leave you torn between lust and squeamish pleasure, ripping laughter out of your chest. God that’s what he wanted to hear. He cums impossibly hard, pulling out to paint your tummy with jizz. Uncharacteristic for a man that loves to cum inside, but it all makes sense when he leans down to lick his own finish off your skin. You squeal and laugh again, but he doesn’t stop until he is facing your cunt and his tongue is lapping at your clit. Makes you finish in his mouth, still tickling at your sides while you squirm.

a/n: tbh honest I don’t know much about this, so let me know if I missed the mark!! Last post for the night before I retire :3 reblogs are appreciated xx - princess

taglist : @sunoofairyofsass @cha0thicpisces (dm or fill out form to be added to taglist)

#enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #jake smut #jake x reader #jake enhypen #jake enhypen x reader #jake x y/n #enhypen x y/n #enhypen requests #enhypen fluff #enhypen drabbles #enhypen #enha x y/n #enha smut #enha reactions #enha x reader #enha scenarios #enha imagines #enha #requests for sunoo’s princess!! #xxsunoosprincess

[nerdpoe]

Three Vigilantes and a Pile of Parenting Books Part 3

Part 1, Part 2, Ao3

Tim had a first row seat to watch Dick’s mental crisis.

He could hardly blame the man; not only did he have a kid, but one of his brothers had shot said kid.

Now the kid was sleeping on a cot in the medbay, drugged up to his eyeballs, and it looked like Dick couldn’t bring himself to let go of the kid’s hand.

Jason was still ah…talking to Alfred. Tim wasn’t going to interfere with that at all.

Barbara’s kid was on Dick’s kid’s other side, and absolutely refused to move.

The other two kids had fallen asleep from all the stress, and Jason had had just enough time to set them up on the cot opposite their friend’s before he’d been whisked away by Alfred.

Tim made his way over to Bruce, who was pouring over his own DNA tests.

“Is this a bad time to congratulate you on being a grandfather?”

“Yes.”

Tim casually not-casually leaned over Bruce’s shoulder to look at the screen.

“Can I ask why-holy shit. Really? And we’re sure it didn’t like, misread anything?” Tim asked quietly, glancing back at Dick.

Dick only had eyes for his kid, though, and apparently was too lost in his own head to pay attention.

“Positive, I’ve run it thirty-two times,” Bruce muttered, covering his mouth with one hand while the other ordered the computer to run the kid’s DNA again.

“...B, I don’t think it’s gonna change,” Tim sighed, running a hand through his hair, “What about the girl? What’s her’s sa-oh. Uh. I don’t know if that’s worse or better than Dick’s co-parent.”

Bruce took off his cowl and scrubbed at his face with his hands.

“I suppose I will have to let them know.”

“And the other two?”

Bruce tapped at something and brought up their files, motioning listlessly at the screen.

There were absolutely no DNA matches anywhere, at all. Most likely they were either bought from a Human Trafficker or sold off by their parents, then. Definitely human, though; no hero DNA in them anywhere.

Which was honestly a bit of a surprise; given the girl’s viciousness Tim had been assuming she was Jason’s kid.

Bruce let out a muffled sigh and started drafting letters to send out to Barbara and Dick’s co-parents.

~~~~~~

John Constantine pulled himself from sleep, lulled by the incessant ringing of his alarm.

It was his noon alarm, so he knew he’d already slept well into the afternoon.

Refusing to leave the comfort of his blankets, he tugged the phone over and checked his notifications.

And fuck him, there was one from the Batman himself, marked as urgent.

John put the phone down, intent on ignoring it.

The phone pinged.

It was a text.

Broody McFuckFace         Constantine, I know you’re up.         Read the email.

John whined and opened the email.

And sat up.

Dropped his phone.

Scrambled on all fours to the liquor cabinet. 

Turned back to get the phone to reread the email and tripped over his own feet.

And once he’d confirmed that he hadn’t misread or hallucinated any of the contents, he ordered the House of Mysteries to the most remote location it could possibly go.

He wasn’t getting another kid killed just for being related to him, he refused. He’d be the bad guy, he’d be the deadbeat dad, but he refused to be the reason his son….

Bloody buggering…his son. His son. He had a son.

He could never, ever see the kid. 

Fuck.

Constantine took a swig of whatever he’d picked up and curled between his bed and his wall.

~~~~~~

Constantine. A child was found in an experimental facility that could not nail down Cloning, and instead resorted to just making children from heroes. They were utilizing the technology to age them quicker. Your DNA was used alongside Nightwing’s to create a boy.  You have a son, he appears to be around six years old.  Please respond with how you intend to proceed, as Nightwing has already accepted full parental responsibilities in your absence.  Batman.

~~~~~~

Baatman I wnt nothin to do wit th kid fuck off Constannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

~~~~~~

Diana was rather enjoying her quiet afternoon, sitting at a cafe in France and sipping on coffee while reading the news on her phone.

It was nice to catch a break between hero-ing and being a Princess, and it happened so rarely, too.

Then a notification popped up on her phone.

Oh, it was from Bruce!

Diana opened it eagerly, reading the contents as quickly as she could.

Diana read them again.

Diana dropped her coffee.

Diana stood up in awe as the French Patrons around her looked dismayed at the waste of coffee.

“I…” Diana whispered, and the patrons winced, anticipating bad news from the woman acting so strangely, “I have a daughter!”

The patrons who could speak English gasped in polite surprise and started applauding.

Diana paid them no mind and slapped money on the table before darting out of the cafe; she was going to Gotham whether Bruce invited her or not.

She had a daughter!

She!

A daughter!

She would work out custody with Oracle, but first!

She had a daughter to see!

~~~~~~

Wonder Woman. A child was found in an experimental facility that could not nail down Cloning, and instead resorted to just making children from heroes. They were utilizing the technology to age them quicker. Your DNA was used alongside Oracle’s to create a girl.  You have a daughter, she appears to be around ten years old.  Please respond with how you intend to proceed, as Oracle has already accepted full parental responsibilities in your absence.  Batman.

~~~~~~

Batman. I am six hours out, and am utilizing the jet for maximum speed. I trust you will be ready for my arrival. I look forward to co-parenting with Oracle! Wonder Woman

~~~~~

Dick watched the rise and fall of his son’s tiny chest, and held his tiny hand, and reached out to brush his fluffy hair out of his tiny, scrunched up face. He’d almost forgotten how small kids could be.

Well, he’d always known, but it was different seeing some random kid on the street and then holding his own kid’s hand.

He was so small!

Dick could not, would not, let anything happen to him.

He knew Bruce was doing something in the background, that he was trying to find who his co-parent was, but he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to it.

“His name is Danny,” Barbara’s kid said suddenly, glaring at him.

Dick really, really hoped that the scientists hadn’t been the ones to name him. But if that was what he responded to, if he had no problems with it, then that was his name until he said otherwise.

Dick just smiled at her instead of saying any of that, however.

“Okay. And what’s yours?”

“Jazz. Why d’you keep touching him?”

The little girl-Jazz-looked like she was three seconds away from trying to break Dick’s hands herself.

“Because…I’m just happy he’s alive, I guess,” Dick hummed, smoothing back the unruly hair again.

“Why? You don’ know him, an’ he doesn’ know you, he woulda tol’ me if he did.”

Dick felt his smile fade a bit.

“I know. But when he wakes up, I’m hoping he’ll like me enough to stick around and learn who I am.”

Jazz opened her mouth, presumably to argue that he still hadn’t explained why he cared about a kid he didn’t know, when Tim let out one of the most vicious swear-streaks he’d ever heard his little brother go off on.

Dick turned slightly to look at what was going on, and was surprised to see Bruce’s body language transcend rage as the man stalked off to the gym.

Tim had taken over the computer and was practically stabbing at the keyboard with his fingers.

“Fuck him, then! Who needs him! We’ll be fine without him! I can babysit, B can babysit, I bet Diana would be fucking thrilled to have the chance to watch him! I bet he’s a goddamn treasure to be around! Unlike you, you rancid useless piece of shit-!” Tim cut himself off and slammed his butt into the chair, working furiously on the computer.

Dick flinched and turned back to Danny.

Apparently, the co-parent wanted nothing to do with the situation as a whole.

He could understand, he could. 

They hadn’t asked for a kid, and suddenly there was one with no prior warning whatsoever.

And yeah, Dick got that. He knew that the response wasn’t out of the ordinary, and that he should probably call off Tim. 

However, he kinda felt…offended.

Whoever his co-parent was, they hadn’t even seen Danny. They were just throwing away the opportunity without even looking at him.

So Dick held his tongue and let Tim loose.

~~~~~~

Barbara wheeled in, and paused to take in the situation.

Tim was doing something with the computer, and from his expression someone was about to have a very bad life.

Bruce was punching things to deal with his emotions.

Jason was standing in front of Alfred, head bowed and what looked like tears in his eyes as the older man spoke to him in hushed tones.

Damian left her side and wandered to Tim, presumably to find out what he was doing.

Barbara made her way to her own kid.

And stopped once she was in full view of the tyke.

That…was definitely her kid. The hair, the nose…although, the eyes were a little too blue to come from her.

But that was a little, tiny kid.

That was her daughter, old enough to have meant that as far as the papers Barbara was going to doctor were going to be concerned, she had been a teen mom. 

Barbara really, really hoped that her co-parent would be willing to step in. 

The little girl was watching her, wary.

Good.

Suspicion would keep her alive in a city like Gotham.

Barbara finished the journey to Dick’s side and held out her hand to her daughter.

“My name is Barbara, and according to DNA, I’m your mom,” she heard Dick start to protest her rather blunt approach, but her daughter nodded and took the hand offered.

“I’m Jazz, that’s Danny,” she said quietly, blinking rapidly.

Barbara nodded, leaning back in her chair. Jazz rubbed furiously at her eyes and blinked away what looked like tears, chubby cheeks turning red with frustration, and her expression just got more furious with each tear that managed to get past her hands.

Oh yeah. She knew what that meant.

Jazz needed a nap.

“Alright Jazz,” Barbara started, wheeling closer to her, “I need someone with good ears. You got those?”

Jazz glared at her and nodded suspiciously.

“Good. You’re gonna have to sit in my lap for it, but I think one of the servos in my chair is starting to grind against its surroundings, so there’s really not another spot for you to listen for that.”

Jazz cautiously stood from her chair and made her way over.

Good, even if the kid didn’t trust her, kids always wanted to feel like they were helping. Well, Barbara had when she’d been that age.

Once Jazz was in her lap and had settled down to focus on listening to the mechanics of Barbara’s chair, it took a grand total of two minutes for the kid to knock out.

Dick was staring at her in awe.

“Moving on,” Barbara said quietly, running a hand up and down Jazz’s back, “What’s the news regarding our co-parents?”

Dick shrugged.

“Mine apparently sent a reply that pissed everyone off too much to tell me who it even is, which meant that they may not have read the response from yours.”

Barbara frowned and pulled out her phone to see for herself.

She paused long enough to feel slightly amazed at Constantine’s vitriolic response, before shoving it aside and just reporting her findings.

“So my co-parent is Diana, who is on her way to meet Jazz. Looks like we’ll have to come to a parenting agreement, since she wants in. Your co-parent is Constantine, and he uh…he has waived any parental rights.”

Dick looked surprised at the mention of Constantine and looked back at his kid.

“Oh yeah, I can kinda see it…”

Barbara pocketed her phone and reached over to place a hand on Dick’s shoulder.

“We’re here to help you, Dick. Just remember that.”

~~~~~~

Across the world, multiple law enforcement agencies were suddenly alerted to the existence of John Constantine as a wanted international man for fraud across country borders. 

Alongside the evidence backing that, there was a generous gift of a facial recognition program with a sophistication the likes of which they hadn’t seen before.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #three vigilantes and a pile of parenting books #phanfic

[robthegoodfellow]

Let's Hear It for the Boy

Praise Kink for Day 3 of @harringrovekinktober

(roommates, kink experimentation, billy is a good boy, nsfw)

Steve felt like a real asshole when Robin asked out of the blue one day, maybe a month after he and Billy became roommates, if Billy was paying part of his rent in labor. Shave some off if he agreed to be your housekeeper? And, at Steve’s incredulous bafflement, had clarified: Every time I’m over he’s cooking or doing laundry or—cleaning shit! To his horror, a highlight reel started up in his mind, a montage of Billy doing all those chores and more, and worse, Steve realized he’d contributed approximately nothing to the daily maintenance of their shared living space. Steve! Robin had scolded, correctly interpreting his guilty grimace. 

So he’d promised to talk to Billy about it—assure him that keeping the place sparkling was in no way required or expected or—or if that was just how he preferred to live, then he’d promise to do his fair share from now on. Only, bringing it up over pizza and beer, a basketball game on TV, had produced an unexpected reaction. Billy… kinda… froze? Went bug-eyed, like Steve had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. He looked embarrassed.

“Man, it’s fine,” Steve said, tripping over himself to explain—put him at ease. “I really don’t care either way. I just wanted to check and make sure you knew I wasn’t gonna, like—kick you out if you let up on the Cinderella routine.”

Billy flushed more, beet red, and Steve resisted smacking himself in the face. He was fucking this up so bad.

“I mean—”

“I don’t mind,” Billy mumbled, avoiding Steve’s eye as he reached for his beer. “I like it.”

“Okay,” Steve said, over the top encouraging. “Great. Well, I’ll at least pitch in more—”

“You don’t have to do that.” Billy’s throat worked, gulping, plush lips pursed on the can. Steve blinked, shook his head, tuned back in to catch the muttered aside, blue gaze locked on the Michelob commercial. “It’s all good. Nothing has to change.”

Why the hell was he being so weird about this? Did he think Steve couldn’t chip in? Pull his own weight?

“Just because I grew up with a nanny doesn’t mean I don’t know how to do stuff. Vacuum and dishes and—”

Billy grunted, annoyed, throwing his shoulders back to wedge himself into the couch, a mulish slouch. “Just drop it, will ya? I like things how they are, so what’s the fucking problem?”

“All right, jeez,” Steve cried, holding up his hands. “Touchy.”

They were quiet, both ticked, but the kind that would drain away by halftime. Except—he felt shitty just leaving it like this, having semi-acknowledged that Billy was acting like his maid.

“Is there anything I can do?” Steve asked, his tone deliberately mild, not looking away from the freethrow swishing on screen. “That you don’t like?”

No explosion—good sign. After a long, loaded pause, Billy sighed. “Take out the trash.”

“Got it,” Steve said. And let it go.

But from then on, he kept watch, determined to figure out the source of the weirdness. Almost positive it wasn’t a control freak thing or a neat freak thing—it wasn’t like the apartment was pristine. It was more that… everyday, Billy had done something obvious enough that Steve commented on it—always had. Nothing major, just Oh, hey—you got that stain out of the carpet or Holy shit, it smells so good—what is that? or How’d you unclog that drain? Wasn’t like he thanked Billy, though he probably should have been—although maybe Billy didn’t want him to make a big deal out of it?—but he’d always notice and say something admiring because Billy was good at stuff. Good at so much stuff.

He started taking out the trash, and Billy never let on that he noticed, but Steve thought he did. And he kept up the compliments whenever Billy did something nice, since that hadn’t been explicitly forbidden. But since he was paying more attention now, he—noticed some things. Only when he was pretending to look elsewhere, monitoring Billy in his periphery or in the reflection of the window or decorative mirrors his mom had foisted on him. He noticed that, those times, Billy sort of… ducked his head, hiding a grin that bordered on… bashful? And his shoulders bowed a bit, like he was—curling in on himself. Like—in delight?

Like—he secretly really liked it? When Steve noticed he’d done something nice? When Steve said something nice about it?

So… he decided to test it. Nothing too overbearing or obvious, just—instead of merely noticing, he was sure to compliment. Because why not, if Billy liked it and still wouldn’t let Steve lift a finger except on garbage day?

Good became his go-to. This tastes so good. That looks so good. Good, good, good.

Which is when it clicked for him—that Billy didn’t do chores and stuff because he liked the chores. But because… he liked Steve’s reaction?

And—that would explain his weirdness. Why he didn’t want to talk about it. Like maybe he was worried Steve would think Billy liked being his bitch or something—Steve winced, anticipating the whack from the Robin who lived in his head—not that Steve thought of him that way.

…Though if he didn’t mind Steve thinking of him that way—or even liked it, then…

Well, Steve didn’t—dislike that. Like the general concept. Held a certain—

Anyway, in the interest of further—ah, testing, Steve mentioned, casually, on his way to work one morning, “I’ve been craving that pasta salad you made.”

Billy cut him a glance over his coffee where he was hunched at the kitchen table. Grunted, and Steve quirked a grin, tossed him a salute goodbye. It wasn’t even a lie—the pasta thing—he’d been salivating at the memory. This version with Italian dressing instead of mayo, with olives and stuff. 

Lo, late that afternoon, when he got back, there was a big Tupperware of it in the fridge. Billy wandered in halfway through his second helping. They paused, wide-eyed at the sudden charge buzzing in the air, and Steve’s stomach clenched.

“It’s—good,” he managed, hands suddenly clammy around his fork and bowl. Billy was staring at Steve’s hands, held awkwardly aloft where he leaned on the counter. The stare was strangely heavy—hooded lids. Steve cleared his throat. “You—did good.”

Billy’s cheeks were as flushed as that day on the couch, watching basketball, insisting he liked��

Abruptly aware his boner was starting to tent his shorts, Steve turned to face the counter, ducking to shovel more pasta in his idiot mouth. Heard Billy go to the cabinet, fetch a glass. Fill it. Walk back out.

Heaving an unwinding breath, Steve set down the bowl, let his elbows bear the weight of this latest sexual awakening.

So that was a thing, apparently—and for Billy, too, potentially. Probably. Because, without quite meaning to, they fell into this little routine where, before Steve left for work, he’d pause, and Billy would look up from his coffee, and Steve would mention something—a rental movie he wanted to see, or a sale at the liquor store, or if Billy would mind throwing Steve’s whites in with his so he’d have a shirt to wear to this meeting later in the week…

And the VHS would be waiting on the counter. And a six-pack would be waiting in the fridge. And his shirt would be washed and ironed and waiting in his closet. And everytime Billy would be lingering nearby, not quite meeting his eyes, and Steve’s pulse would pound even though technically there was nothing sexy about an ironed shirt, and Steve would say Good. You did good.

Billy would sometimes clench his fist, when Steve said it. Or squirm in his seat a bit. Or swallow, throat bobbing. Color rising. And the sight hit Steve like a load of bricks. A load of bricks to the head.

It was the weirdest game of gay chicken—scrambling to find mundane tasks for Billy to complete for the prize of a pat on the back, when all Steve wanted, and he bet Billy felt similarly, was to order Billy to his knees.

He thought about it whenever they were on the couch watching TV, whenever they were eating in the kitchen or drinking on the balcony or passing each other outside the bathroom in the morning.

So he tested further. Came home and went to see if Billy had done it—and there he was, standing by Steve’s bed. The neatly made bed. 

Steve’s heart was rabbiting out of his chest, too on the fritz to form words, and his feet weren’t much better, charting a crooked, clumsy course until they were toe to toe, Billy’s gaze downcast, his lips parted, breaths shallow. 

He didn’t know whether it’d sound stupid if he said it out loud, what he’d been wanting to say for days—whether Billy wanted to hear, or would consider it a step too far.

They’d come this far, though. Steve wet his lips, took a calming breath, and Billy seemed to brace for it. “Good,” Steve said, and it came out breathy. “Good boy.”

Billy curled—did that thing where he ducked, hunching around something invisible—and the sound punched out of him, this pained gasp. Steve’s hands moved on their own, reaching to cradle Billy’s head, step close to whisper in his ear, his brow at Steve’s shoulder: “Good? Is this good?” Felt more than saw him nodding. “You want to be good for me?”

“Fuck,” Billy whispered—bit wheezing. Wet. “Fuck.”

“What do you want?” Steve asked, fumbling at his heated neck. “What do you—?”

“Be good.” It was mumbled, cringing. “Wanna be good.” A shaky inhale. “Make you feel good.”

Steve’s blood was roaring everywhere but his brain—would’ve fallen over if he weren’t clutching Billy. “Want that, too.”

He heard a thready laugh, and Billy straightened, leaning back into his hold, face tipped, lidded gaze on Steve’s chin. “So?”

So what’ll it be?

Buying himself time to gather his wits, some composure lest he combust, Steve tilted his head, assessing. Adjusting his hold, ran a thumb across Billy’s lower lip, firm enough to pull at the skin. “Want this.” Another swipe, exposing teeth, his curving tongue. “Make me feel good with this.”

A tug at his belt, and Billy was nodding, making short work of the button and zip—movements quick and precise. He sank, kneeling at Steve’s feet, tugging the pants to hang at midthigh, and finally looked up. 

Steve swept blond curls off his forehead. “Like you like this.”

Billy stared, eyes gleaming. Seemed to be—waiting.

“So good like this,” Steve corrected. “Now show me how good.”

Swaying, Billy buried his face in Steve’s briefs, nosing him through straining cotton, and huffed hot air at the crown. Steve compulsively gripped fistfuls of hair, still using Billy’s ears as handlebars, and resolved not to let go—to let Billy show him.

And, boy, did he. Laved at his dick until the fabric was soaked, the white gone translucent—white gone flushed pink, twitching under kitten licks—and Steve was on the verge of begging when a pull at his waistband freed his cock, bobbing only a sec before swallowed in Billy’s grip, fed into his greedy mouth.

Steve’s entire vocabulary had been reduced to one word, babbled at the ceiling behind closed lids: good, good, good, only sometimes it came out guh, guh, guh. One hand cupped the back of Billy’s head, and it was when his hips were on a steady grinding roll that he realized he’d caged Billy against him, locked the gulping heat around his cock as he plugged toward the peak.

Billy wasn’t struggling, though—his fingers biting into the meat of Steve’s ass, moaning so deep in his chest that Steve felt it more than heard it.

Steve grappled for a new word—close, close—but Billy didn’t stop, didn’t let up a second, and when Steve grunted his release, the throat worked around him still. 

The moment Billy pulled off, lungs heaving, face ruby red and shining, Steve flopped to his knees, blindly reached for Billy, draping loose arms around his neck, his ribs, waiting for his own breaths to slow.

“Was it,” Billy asked, tight. “Was it—?”

“Good,” Steve said, huffing a laugh, coasting hands across the bellows of his back. “So good—you’re so good. Always so good for me.”

Billy burrowed his face into Steve’s throat, his collarbone, looping him in an uncertain hug. He was hard, pressed against where Steve’s clothes gaped open. Working a hand between them, Steve rubbed his palm along rigid heat. 

“What do you want?” he asked, nuzzling the nest of blond. “Since you been so good?”

A shudder ran up the sloping spine. Steve smoothed his free hand down to Billy’s waist and back up, waiting.

“I—cleaned the shower,” Billy said, halting. “I could—show you, and—?”

Steve kissed his temple, quick, so helplessly fond. Overwhelmed.

“Good boy wants a wash?” Steve suggested, and tightened his arms when Billy tried to do his pillbug thing. “Be my good boy,” he said, hushed, nosing Billy’s flushed ear. “You want to?”

And Billy curled again, only this time around him. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah.”

.

Now with added sequel: Let's Give the Boy a Hand

#harringrove #harringrovekinktober2k23 #roommates in love #roommates in ill-defined dom subby dynamic #billy wants the praise #and the dick #steve gives it

[violet-1atte]

Kinktober Day Twenty-Three: Deepthroating - Felix/Jeongin

Tags: virgin!Felix, experienced Jeongin, bjs, hair pulling, come swallowing

AO3 Link

Felix was a virgin. It was a little embarrassing to admit, especially to his boyfriend Jeongin who was a year younger than him and about five times as experienced. Jeongin never judged him for it though and agreed to take things slow to not overwhelm him. He really appreciated the care that the younger one treated him with, but he was also a young man at the prime age of horniness. Sometimes he wished Jeongin would just throw away any idea of taking things slow and would toss him onto bed and put those muscles to good use. 

Sadly, it didn’t take him long to realize he would have to take things into his own hands. Jeongin wouldn’t make a move until Felix showed that he wanted him to. He wanted Felix to initiate things. 

He decided to take the opportunity as they were making out one day. Felix was in Jeongin’s lap, Jeongin’s hand was on the back of his neck, keeping him close. Felix’s mouth was parted so that Jeongin could slide their tongues together and suck on his bottom lip as he pleased. It was obvious that both of them were getting worked up. Felix’s skin was littered with goosebumps and he could feel Jeongin, semi-hard underneath him. Usually by this point Jeongin would start kissing Felix softer and would begin rubbing his hands down his back to soothe him. They would take care of any problems they had on their own. 

But today Felix wasn’t having any of that. Jeongin nipped at his bottom lip and as he did so, Felix gave an experimental roll of his hips. He smirked a little at the soft hitch of Jeongin’s breath and did it again. Jeongin’s grip on Felix’s neck firmed and he pulled back from their kiss, eyes heavy-lidded. “Felix…” he said, and Felix shivered at the way his name sounded like a warning. 

“What?” he asked innocently. He grinded down again and Jeongin inhaled sharply. 

“Lix…you’re gonna…I’m gonna want to do more if you keep doing that,” he warned, his voice strained. Felix smiled and gave another roll of his hips. 

“I know,” he said. Jeongin’s fingers dug into the sides of his neck and he made a little gasp. “I want more. I’m ready to start doing more, Innie.” 

“Ah–are you sure, hyung?” Jeongin asked, one hand coming to rest on Felix’s hip. 

Felix nodded. “I’m sure. I–I don’t want to go all the way just yet, I want to make that special. But please, something , Iyen-ah, I’ve…” His cheeks began to heat as he spoke and he wet his lips. “I’ve been so horny and your kisses got me all worked up.” 

Jeongin took a deep breath and his dick twitched beneath Felix. “O-okay,” he said. “What do you want to do, Lixie?” 

“I…” Felix hadn’t thought that far ahead. He just knew he wanted to touch Jeongin and make him feel good and he wanted Jeongin to touch him. “I’m not sure I…” His eyes widened slightly as an idea popped into his mind. Something he had been wanting to try since he first saw Jeongin naked. “Actually I know.” 

“What is it?” Jeongin asked. Felix could tell by his tone that he was trying to keep his voice steady. His failure to keep how affected he was out of his voice made him giddy. 

“I wanna suck you off. I’ve wanted to for a while,” he admitted, a shy smile forming on his lips. “I think about it when…when I get off.” 

“Shit,” Jeongin mumbled, fingers flexing on Felix’s hip. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” Felix responded, feeling emboldened by Jeongin’s reactions. “Sometimes I practice. With dildos. Imagine it's you. And you’re pulling my hair and fucking my throat even when I start to cry–” 

“Holy shit,” Jeongin breathed. “That’s so hot, hyung. Wow–I thought you were innocent.” 

Felix laughed, shaking his head. “I am far from that, Jeongin. That’s only part of what I imagine about you. But I’ll tell you about this afterwards.” He took Jeongin’s hands off him and scooted off his lap so that he could sink to the floor between Jeongin’s legs. He looked up at him with wide eyes, first taking in the prominent bulge in his pants and then he met his gaze. “Can I?” 

“Yeah, yeah, of course you can,” Jeongin answered. He spread his thighs and Felix’s mouth started to water in anticipation as he undid his pants. Nerves bubbled up in his stomach when Jeongin lifted his hips to tug his pants and boxers down, revealing his cock. He was really big and that made Felix a little nervous, but he was determined. As far as he knew from his experiments with dildos, he had hardly any gag reflex. 

Felix scooted forward and pushed himself up onto his knees so that he could get closer. He leaned forward and gave an experimental lick to the tip. Jeongin hissed above him and he gave another lick, this time lapping over the slit. The precum on his tongue was salty, but the taste wasn’t bad. He could get used to it. He wrapped his lips around the tip next and sucked softly on it. Jeongin moaned and reached out to tangle his fingers in Felix’s hair. 

“Fuck, you’re already doing so good, hyung,” Jeongin moaned. The praise spurred Felix on and he flattened his tongue along the underside of Jeongin’s cock. He relaxed his jaw and throat and began to carefully sink down, taking in as much of his cock as he could. Jeongin tightened his grip on Felix’s hair as he sank further down and muffled his noises behind his other hand. 

“Fe-Felix, you don’t have to go a-all the way if you ca-can’t,” he stuttered. Felix hummed around his cock, acknowledging that he heard him. He wasn’t planning on giving up like that. 

The tip of Jeongin’s cock hit the back of Felix’s throat and tears began to well up in his eyes. He still hadn’t reached the base of Jeongin’s cock yet though, and even if his throat would be raw after this, he wanted to keep going. He wanted to make Jeongin feel good from the beginning. 

“Fuck,” Jeongin swore, tugging at Felix’s hair. His thighs shook around Felix from restraint. Felix forced himself down and swallowed around Jeongin’s cock. Jeongin moaned loudly and Felix took a deep breath through his nose until his nose was pressed against his pelvis. His throat contracted a little but he inhaled deep and closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax. “Oh fuck,” Jeongin muttered. “You’re–shit, Felix, are you sure you’ve never done this before.” 

Felix looked up at him through his lashes and shook his head slightly before slowly moving his head up. He hollowed his cheeks a little as he went up, fully sucking on Jeongin’s cock until the tip slipped from his lips, a string of saliva hanging between his lips and his cock. “I don’t–” Felix was startled by how rough his voice already sounded so he cleared his throat. “I don’t really have a gag reflex. And I’ve practiced, remember?” He tilted his head with a smile and almost giggled at the way Jeongin shuttered. 

“Wow. I–I’ve never had anyone do that before. You’re unreal, Lix.” 

Felix blushed. “Thank you, Innie,” he said with a smile, before going back down. He didn’t bother with teasing and instead took all of Jeongin’s cock down his throat in one go, moaning as his mouth was filled again. His eyes stung with new tears as he began to move his head, the tip of Jeongin’s cock hitting the back of his throat with every bob. Jeongin’s mouth fell open, soft moans and groans spilling from his mouth like music. 

Felix was a sight as he practically fucked his own mouth on Jeongin’s cock. Some of the tears in his eyes had spilled down his red cheeks and dripped down his chin, collecting with the saliva coating Jeongin’s dick. His lips had already been swollen from kissing Jeongin for so long, but now they were spit-slicked and red, like a cherry lollipop. And with that, Jeongin’s hand tangled in his blond hair made him look messy, adding to his already debauched look. 

His jaw began to ache after a bit of having his mouth wide open around his cock. He continued though, willing himself to relax, relax. Tears were streaming down his face by now, and every couple of moments his throat tightened around Jeongin’s cock, creating little gurgling sounds in his throat. He swallowed around Jeongin, sticking his down out along his shaft. His own cock was embarrassingly hard in his pants and he could feel a wet patch forming against his boxers. He felt like he was made to suck dick–the heaviness in his mouth, the taste, the feeling of it sliding down his throat–all things that made him feel dizzy with arousal. 

And Jeongin’s noises, the way his thighs were shaking as Felix took him. It made Felix feel desperate, oh so desperate. He sucked around his shaft again and suddenly Jeongin’s hips jerked up, somehow shoving his cock even deeper down Felix’s throat. Felix gagged a little and his eyes watered as he popped off to take a breath. Jeongin quickly cupped his cheek, wiping the tears off his face. “I’m sorry hyung, are you okay?” he asked quickly, worry etched on his features. 

Felix nodded. “‘M good.” His voice was hoarse and his throat ached a little but he wanted more. “Want–want you to fuck my mouth. Please. I liked that,” he admitted. 

“Are you sure?” Jeongin asked, petting his hair. He nodded enthusiastically. 

“Please.” He wrapped his lips around the tip of he cock again and looked up at him with pleading eyes. Jeongin tangled his hand in his hair again and gave it a firm pull, making Felix whimper around him. 

“Alright, tap my leg if you want me to stop.” Jeongin’s gaze darkened and Felix felt a shiver run down his spin. Jeongin pushed his head down and his jaw went slack. Then his brain filled with white noise as Jeongin began to thrust up into the wet heat of his mouth, his cock sliding down his throat like it was just any other hole. Felix’s eyes rolled back and his body went slack as he let Jeongin use him for his own pleasure. He did his best to suck and move his tongue but he could barely focus on that with how roughly Jeongin was fucking his throat. 

His muffled moans vibrated around Jeongin’s cock and mixed with Jeongin’s own groans. The living room was filled with a dirty mix of sounds, their pleasured noises and Felix’s gags whenever Jeongin thrusted particularly hard. Felix’s cock was aching, practically pulsing with need. He felt used in the best way. 

The tugs on his scalp set him on fire, the pain melting into pleasure like liquid gold. Pleasure pulsed through his stomach and little shivers went up his spine as Jeongin used the grip he had on his hair to push him down. He felt like he could come just from this, and being the inexperienced virgin he was, he probably would. Especially when he heard Jeongin grit, “I’m close, fuck ,” above him. All he could do was moan pathetically around his cock. 

After a moment, Jeongin began to pull Felix off his cock but he whined in protest. “Nooo,” he whimpered, eyes filling with tears again but this time out of neediness. 

“I’m gonna come though, you were already taking so much. I didn’t know if you’d want to swallow cum your first time,” Jeongin said. Once again, Felix greatly appreciated Jeongin’s care for him but what he wanted was for Jeongin to ruin him. He didn’t want to be the same after this. He probably wouldn’t be. Having a real cock in his mouth for the first time already made him insatiable. 

“I want to, please. I want to do good,” Felix said, licking his lips. 

Jeongin’s breath hitched and he groaned. “F-fuck you can’t just say stuff like that, hyung.” He swallowed thickly. “Okay, I’m gonna come in your mouth then.” 

Felix wiggled eagerly and opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out. Jeongin bit his lip as he looked down at him and directed his cock into his mouth. Felix went back to bobbing his head and suckling on the tip whenever he came back up. Jeongin’s sounds made his skin buzz, and it wasn’t long before he felt Jeongin’s muscles tensed under him. He moaned a quick warning and then his cum filled Felix’s mouth. He cringed a bit when it first hit his tongue but then he swallowed with no trouble. He pushed his cock back into his throat as he came so the cum could spill right down his throat. He didn’t pull off until Jeongin had nothing left, and when he sat back, he opened his mouth to show it was empty. “Thank you,” he said with a pleased grin. 

Jeongin tongued his cheek and then reached down, grabbing Felix by the shirt to pull him up. Felix gasped as he was tugged against Jeongin and his lips smashed into his. He kissed him like his life depended on his and Felix was breathless by the time he was done, dazed and dizzy. “Wow, you really like that huh, Iyen-ah?” Felix asked with a giggle. 

“Of course I did. Holy fuck. I still can’t believe you did that. I almost don’t believe you’re a virgin,” Jeongin said in awe. Felix laughed. 

“Well I’m not anymore,” he said proudly. Jeongin shook his head and leaned in to press his lips to his ear. 

“I still haven’t fucked you yet.” 

Felix shuddered and gulped. “W-well you will soon…but first, can you please touch me? I’m so hard, Innie.” Felix loved the way Jeongin’s heart raced against him. 

“Yeah, I can do that. C’mere.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober day 23 #felix smut #virgin!felix #inexperienced!felix #lee felix smut #jeongin smut #yang jeongin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #fanfiction #smut #stray kids fanfic #skz fic #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction