#so yeah. if I ever admit the feelings I’m keeping close to the chest with this crowd guess what | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

softlyspector · 6 months

Text

Juniper

Summary: You're sleepy. Joel knows a good way to put you to sleep.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: ~1.4k

Warnings: unedited and written in a feverish haze in like an hour, pussy eating king Joel, f!receiving oral, uhhh that's it, that's the fic.

A/N: Happy Halloween! This fic has absolutely nothing to do with Halloween. As always, love to hear your lovely thoughts! Thanks for reading!

“I’m too tired, Joel,” you mutter, pushing clumsy fingers through his hair. “Haven’t slept in two days.” His nose pushes against your thigh, beard rough against your skin. “Feels like anyway.”

Nose against the hinge of your knee, fingers under the plush curve of your ass, digging into the soft flesh. His eyes are closed. He looks at peace, the lines by his eyes not as stark, the bags under his eyes not as dark or puffy. “Good thing I ain’t askin’ you to do anything.”

“Mm,” you tug on the dark locks between your fingers, that seems to be peppered and threaded each day with more and more gray. “Aren’t you tired?”

Joel just tugs you closer by your hips, shoulder under your opposite thigh, broad palm splayed across your belly. “Yep. Want this more.”

He isn’t though. Not as tired as he has been in the past. He sleeps without dreaming, and you know sometimes he feels guilty for that, even if he feels better for it. He kisses the hinge of your knee, lips parted when he blinks up at you. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with want. “You’re so good to me,” you say, still pulling at the threads of his hair, letting them slip through your fingers. “Aren’t you?”

Joel’s thumb slides over your stomach, the dip of your navel, and you lose his eyes, a noncommittal sound made deep in the back of his throat.

“You are,” you confirm. It’s rosy, the color in his cheeks, even in the dark quiet of your bedroom.

“If you believe it,” he grumbles, tense and irritated about it, mouth working back down your thigh. “I will too.”

“Okay,” you agree. “I believe it.” Always have, you want to add, but you’re dangerously close to making him bristle and pull away, and so you don’t.

His mouth makes it to your hip, the caress of his touch like a dull fire, like a hot blade. He squeezes your ass. “You really too tired?” If you said yes, he would pull away without a word of complaint.

You can barely keep your eyes open but there’s tension locked up in your shoulders from being on your feet for hours, a beginning of want curling around the base of your spine with the slow way he worshiped you. “No,” you admit. “I guess not.”

“Guess?”

You hum and tuck your hands through his hair again, guiding him to your core. “Yeah.”

“Uh-huh,” he says against your clothed cunt, some levity returning to his voice. “Like I said, you ain’t gotta do anything, darlin’. Just lie there and look pretty.”

You stroke the divot between his eyes, chest and stomach cinching tight at his nearness, the hot pulse of his breath against your center. He mouths at your underwear before he hooks a finger in the material and tugs it to the side.

“Joel,” you murmur, and then pinch his cheek. He grunts and jerks away from your offending hand. “I’m holding you to that.”

He rolls his eyes and pinches you back, right on the swell of your ass. You jump, twitching in his grasp, inadvertently bringing your body closer to him. “Yeah. Just like I said.” He soothes the little ache, rubbing the spot he pinched. “You’re fallin’ asleep on me anyhow.”

You do feel closer to sleep than ever, warm in his grasp, safe with his skin against yours, almost too hot where his shoulders rest against the backs of your thighs. It’s comforting, that warmth, the curve of his body under yours, the sharp twinge of want blooming wider in your belly, expansive and vast and needful. It’s knowing too, that he would satiate that vastness and leave you picked cleaned, sucked dry.

He leans in and inhales against you, tongue sliding through your folds, experimental and slow, just tasting, the point of his tongue rubbing over your clit.

“Oh,” you exhale, quiet with it.

You’ve always been self conscious about that, about how you sound, how loud. Even though you aren’t, you know you aren’t.

And Joel wants to hear you. He likes to hear it, even if he’s quiet himself. He likes knowing he’s doing a good job.

The hand cupped around your ass slides down, to the back of your thigh, before he’s unwinding himself from you, pushing two fingers through your curls, through the slick dripping from you.

He groans into you, the vibration of it sending shockwaves up through your chest, unfurling embers around the hooks of your ribs. It spreads you open, spears into the twisting curl of your gut, the want washing like a wave there.

Joel’s fingers circle your entrance, push slow and sure into you, stretching you just right, in a familiar way that makes the sea inside you flood its borders. His mouth comes away from you wet, webs of your want glistening on his lips and in his beard.

He looks dazed and drunk and maybe sleepy, too, just from the taste of you, from minutes and hours spent between your thighs. His fingers curl lazily inside you, digging into that fleshy, spongy part of you, that makes a gasp tear from your throat.

“There y’are,” he says, nose nudging against your pussy again, the messy fringe of his hair falling over his forehead, obscuring the dark cast of his blown open eyes from you.

He drowns in you one slow taking at a time, the caressing curl of the flat of his tongue, the press of his fingers that already knows everything inside you and still asks for more. He’s careful with it, taking his time, building you up slow and careful with attention you think might be better put elsewhere, but he likes to lie it down with you, likes to know every little nerve ending and every pinch and contraction of muscle and sinew.

He can take better care of you that way, after all, if he learned it all well enough.

Your mind is already fuzzy with too many sleepless nights in a row, too many hours on your feet, and the press of him against you, the delicate twitch of muscle in his shoulders, the way he groans into you, drinks from you like he’d gladly stay buried in your pussy forever—it both brings you searingly alive and sends you spiraling closer to sleep, relaxed and coiled impossibly tight all at once.

Joel knows it, too.

But there are still things he doesn’t know, like how when he inadvertently pushes that wide palm of his against your belly as he tries to bring you impossibly closer, it makes everything in you go white hot with the pressure, a bolt of lightening pleasure cracking up your spine, branching out across your whole body. You gasp and grip his hair tight and push him against you, back arching with the effort of it.

There’s just a second’s pause, and then he’s moving, devouring, like a man starved, a snarling, hungry kind of consuming that makes you forget every thought you’ve ever had about being quiet.

Your eyes flutter closed, the image of strong arms and thick shoulders tense with need, with the desperation that you passed onto him so easily, imprinted behind your lids. The curve of your calf presses into his back, urging him to a further closeness that is not possible. Getting closer would mean fusing your bodies together.

He groans again when you come, gushing over his mouth in an almost embarrassing show of arousal. The ever tightening coil burning in your stomach and chest snaps and unravels and unspools, limbs going loose and pliant, muscle twitching sluggishly.

The exhaustion falls over you like a veil, presses in on you from all sides in a dark tide. His fingers slide from your aching hole, pruned with wet that doesn’t stop him from sucking them clean. He grips your hip tight and hauls himself up to kiss you, the taste of your body heavy on his mouth, the scent of his clean skin surrounding you in a cloud—juniper, you think, like that soap you found.

He tastes like you, like salt.

“Christ,” he murmurs against your lips, forehead tight against yours, breathing deep and slow, just like he had between your legs. “You’re so good.”

He’s stiff in the cradle of your thighs, achingly hard.

You curl your arms around his shoulders, urge him in closer. “I’m good ‘cause you’re good to me.” When you push his briefs down and guide him to you, he doesn’t protest, just goes easy with it, willing.

Oops! Sorry for no Halloween fics, you like this anyway. Thanks for reading! Would love to know what you think! 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months

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ok what if reader is also a vigilante?

reader and Jason met in their civilian identities, and after a while they start dating. but like, neither of them tells the other one about their vigilante identities? and then something random happens and they both find out in a funny way?

(alsooo can I be 🐈‍⬛? :3)

Idk if this is considered ‘funny’ but I tired, oh and Yes, you may be 🐈‍⬛ anon. 🦦

When you first met Jason in the cosy book store, you were far too concerned with keeping your stint as a vigilante as close to a secret as possible, so much so that the mere aspect of dating wasn’t something you contemplated on a day to day basis; Never less dating a civilian when you’re fighting street level thugs. However you couldn’t help but get lost in the beauty of his smile, his eyes and the way he ran his hand through his hair.

All you were aware in that moment was that Jason is just perfection in a six foot something frame. He was just that beautiful that you couldn’t find yourself looking away from him, ever; It had to be illegal to be that beautiful.

When Jason first met you in the cosy book store, trying to reach for a book that was just out of reach, he was far too concerned about the new vigilante that had taken to the street of Gotham. Nightshade was their name and they obviously had natural talent but were still sloppy in some areas, but they showed enough promise in their debut outing to be apart of the Outlaws. Dating was the last thing he needed honestly, despite affection, loyalty and love were something he deeply longer for more so then anything, however he felt a little tempted by the idea when you gave him a look of gratitude as he handed you the book was enough to set him alight.

‘Jason.’ He blurted.

‘Come again?’ You asked.

‘My name. It’s Jason.’ He clarified, internally cursing himself for making himself looking like a right idiot in front of you, but you just had that effect on him and it hadn’t even been ten minutes upon meeting you. Was he really that depraved? He asked himself as in that very moment you decided to smile at him, which gave him his answer that yes, he was indeed that depraved for a genuine connection. ‘Well it’s nice to meet you Jason. I’m y/n.’ You greeted, finding Jason absolutely endearing and insufferably cute. ‘Do you often help people with books or is it just a one time thing?’ You then asked, holding the book close to your chest, biting the inside of your cheek.

‘I don’t come here as often as I promised myself I would, so consider this as a rare occurrence.’ Jason shrugged, leaning against the shelf. ‘So do you come here often or are you a fellow procrastinator?’ You chuckled and Jason has to pat himself on the back for that one. He managed to make you laugh and god did it sound ethereal. ‘I’m kinda a fellow procrastinator but that’s because I’ve been busy with life and such.’ You told him, not wanting to admit to everything to a conventionally attractive man you’ve just met at a small, run down book store just yet; You didn’t want to fuck this up for yourself.

‘Oh yeah? Then maybe if you come here more often, I’ll have more of a reason to stop by other than the books.’ Jason said and you felt your smile even wider and tighten your grip on the book, casting your eyes to the floor. Curse this beautiful man for making you feel like a silly little schoolgirl either way a crush, it was both embarrassing as it was all consuming. ‘Sounds like you’re asking me on a date, mr Jason.’

Jason shrugs. ‘Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. I mean is it wrong for me to want to get to know you better?’

‘I guess it wouldn’t hurt.’ You admitted.

‘So it’s a date?’ Jason asked, anticipating your answer.

‘Yeah. It’s a date.’ You replied, feeling a warmth flood through your body, followed by a feeling of nervousness simultaneously it was hard to figure out which feeling you should focus on.

Several book store dates, skirting your obvious feelings for one another and moving into his apartment later, you and Jason were officially a couple: and a happy one at that. And yet despite sharing everything to one another, every deep secret you’ve ever kept in your entire life and yet the one secret neither of you chose to disclose was your vigilante identities, and for simple and justifiable reasons on both your parts; You didn’t want Jason to be brought into the crossfire as a casualty and Jason didn’t want you to get hurt because of the dangerous people he wronged as RedHood. You’ve both hated yourselves for keeping a tight lid on your vigilantism but you knew it was for the betterment of the other, after all ignorance was indeed -on some occasions- bliss.

However on this very night, everything you and Jason have ever hidden from the other had decided to come to light but not in a way that’d either of you were expecting.

You and Jason were cuddled up on the couch and enjoying a peaceful evening in together, seeing as for a week straight both of you have had your hands full with capturing and clearing the streets of Gotham of thugs, goons and drug dealers, and actually getting the golden opportunity to act like an ordinary couple and shower the other in the love and affection that you’ve both been aching for the entire week.

‘You need to get some better sleep Jaybirdie, I can see dark bags starting to form under your eyes.’ You mutter softly as you run your calloused thumbs under his eyes, naturally concerned for his health and well-being. ‘Are you saying that I’m not that appealing to look at anymore because I’m developing eye bags? How shallow of you babe.’ Jason joked as he moved his face from your hands and looking away from you with a pout on his lips.

You laughed, reaching to hold his face in your hands again and gently made him look at you. ‘Stop being dramatic my little Jay bird, I think you make eyes bags work for you but I just don’t like the idea of you staying up longer than you should.’ You said as you kissed his lips and then under his eyes, feeling him hum in content as he dragged you into him tightly. ‘I appreciate the compliment babe.’ He said as he pressed a kiss to your head, closing his eyes as he breathed you in deeply. ‘I’m sorry we haven’t had enough time with each other lately.’

You burrowed yourself deeper into him, hands clutching at his shirt. ‘it’s okay Jason and besides I should sorry too because there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now. I hope you don’t hate me afterwards.’ You admit, scared that this might break your beautiful relationship with the sweetest man you’ve ever met, who had been nothing but unquestionably loyal to you through and through. ‘You could do no wrong pretty baby,’ Jason cooed, ‘but since we’re sharing things, I have something that I’ve been keeping from you also sweetheart.’ Jason said as he feared that he’d only be scaring you away afterwards and he can only hope that you’d stay and hear him out.

‘No, Jason you don’t-‘ you were cut off by the sound of two emergency alerts going off from your shared bedroom and before leaping off of Jason’s lap, much to his displeasure and worry, and rushed towards the bedroom with Jason hot on your heels going on about something you couldn’t quite make out over the noise of the emergency alerts. It was rare that it goes off and when it does, it’s when someone like scarecrow or Joker has made a reemergence to the public and when they do, nothin good ever comes to pass.

Within the depths of your shared closet in your bedroom were two equal sized duffel bags. Inside these duffel bags held everything to do with your vigilante personas that you and Jason had hastily shoved inside, and all before you officially moved into his apartment too. You never touched his out of respect for him and he never touched yours out of respect also, you both knew which one belong to who as they also sat just beneath your own civilians clothes, that and the fact that Jason’s duffel bag was a lot more beat up and rugged compared to yours which only had slight wears and tears; but other then that it was relatively a new bag.

Right of this moment however you didn’t stop to think about which bag you’ve picked up because before you knew it you had locked yourself within the bathroom, just about ready to change into your attire, when you were face to face with a familiar red helmet causing you to freeze in place. While you were trying to grasp the idea that your beautiful, beautiful Jason was the ruthless RedHood, a knock on the bathroom door broke you from your thoughts, and you automatically knew that Jason saw your vigilante attire and was feeling a similar sort of confusion towards you as you were about him. You placed the red helmet back into the duffle bag, zipped it shut before unlocking and opening the door wide enough for Jason to hold out your duffel bag towards you.

‘I believe this is yours sweetheart.’ He said awkwardly.

‘Thank you Jaybirdie.’ You mutter as you took the bag off of him, placing it down on the toilet seat as you picked up his duffel bag and handed it to him through the gap in the doorway. ‘I believe this belongs to you.’

‘Thank you sweetheart.’ Jason replied as he took the bag off of your hands as an uncomfortable air of silence followed as you both stood on either sides of the door, not knowing how to properly address the situation. Until… ‘I knew I recognise that ass in spandex anywhere.’

‘JASON!’ You exclaimed, face becoming flushed.

‘What? It’s true you’ve got a distinctly shaped ass! So of course I’m going to recognise it!’ Jason replied, throwing his hands up in the air.

‘So you’ve admitted to staring at my ass like a perv?’ You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

Jason pushed the bathroom door open fully to get closer to you and hold your face in his hands. ‘Don’t start acting like you haven’t stared at my ass like a perv, perv.’ He says with a chuckle upon seeing the expression upon your face, pressing kisses from your forehead and all the way down to the tip of your nose. ‘I thought you wouldn’t notice.’ You murmur softly, making Jason laugh as he lead you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, where he then sat you down on the end of the bed and held your hand.

‘Well unfortunately for you, I do notice and I can’t say I don’t like the attention that I’d get for my charming parent.’ Jason says as he kisses the back of your hand. ‘You’re not mad that I’m a vigilante and have been keeping it from you all this time?’ You asked, running your thumb over his hand. ‘No because it would be quite hypocritical if I did because I’ve been keeping the same secret hidden from you also. Would you be mad at me being RedHood?’ Jason asked and you immeditly replied ‘no because I know you did so to keep me safe.’

‘Ans I know that you didn’t tell me for the exact same reason.’ Jason butted in. ‘Now that we know however, this just means that we’re even more of a kick ass couple because we literally kick ass every night and I couldn’t be more prouder of you baby.’ He add as he presses kisses to your face, making you chuckle before pulling away. ‘But that doesn’t mean I won’t stop worry about my baby. So expect a whole lot of team ups in the future okay chipmunk?’ You pressed a kiss to his cheek before stealing one from his lips as you stood up from the bed, tugging at his arm. ‘Why don’t we start teaming up now? RedHood and Nightshade, they’ll never see us coming by a long shot!’ You said and Jason couldn’t help but smile at your excitement as he then stood up, groaning dramatically. ‘Alright, alright, quick pulling my arm and get changed so we can go catch us some bad guys.’

You beamed brightly as you stole another kiss from his lips. ‘I love you Jaybirdie.’

‘The things I do for you buttercup.’ Jason spoke against your lips as he kisses you again.

#jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #dc x y/n #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc comics x reader #dc fic #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction

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inkdrinkerworld · 2 months

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Cw: a little suggestive so maybe 18+only, I’m just kinda playing around to figure out his voice ygm?

Dick Grayson who’s the world’s biggest flirt and doesn’t mind one bit that you’re the feistiest thing he’s ever come across.

“You know, I could always help you spar, get your hand eye coordination up to my levels,” he’s still the dorky gymnast kid he’s always been- just older and a lot hotter.

You’d been in the league with him and went solo when he’d founded the Titans but he still pops up every now and then to tease and get under your skin like he’d done when he’d still been Robin.

“And what level would that be Grayson? Second base?” Your chest is heaving as you stand, body dripping in sweat from your latest sequence.

Dick knows you don’t really need pointers, but how else is he going to make a show of wanting to be around you.

“I’m wounded,” he places his hands on his chest and leans forward, the perfect opening for you to swipe your foot at his legs and have him falling forward.

Instead, the stupid (read:sexy, cocky, egoistic, did you say sexy yet?) man jumps over the anticipated attack and flips you onto your back.

“You wound me, pretty girl.” You roll your eyes and flip you both over, so you’re hovering over him.

“I really might,” he winks at you as you stand and you shake your head. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Dick stands, takes your towel and wipes his face and then leans on the doorframe.

“Came to check in on my girl, that so bad?” You get up on your toes and press a kiss to his lips.

“Missed you,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands holding your waist tight as he pulls you closer. “Spend the night with me?” He trails his nose against your jaw, his lips stamping kisses under your neck on the myriad of beauty marks you have that make your knees weak.

“Dick,” you grumble, hands sinking in his hair. “Fine,” you try to keep your voice all gruff and steady but he knows better. He feels the jump in your pulse, his ears are insanely attuned to you so he hears the little hitch in your breath too.

“Don’t sound so excited,” he pulls away with a smug smile and you know you’ve got a hickey somewhere on your neck. “Meet you by the bike in ten?”

“If you think I’m getting on that thing with you Grayson, you haven’t missed me enough.” There’s a poorly hidden smile on your face as you back out of the training room.

“Whatever you say, gorgeous. I’ll be by the bike.”

You don’t protest much when you step outside, dressed all pretty with your duffel bag full of clothes and whatever else you might need and find Dick leaning on his car- a midnight blue that puzzles you on how no one figured him out to be Nightwing for so long.

“Such a liar,” he takes your bag from you, chucking it into the trunk as you reach for the door.

“Touch that handle and we’ll have issues,” your hand drops immediately. “Didn’t want you to feel all desperate having to rub up on me the entire ride back to our place.”

The way he says it, our place, warms your heart. You and Dick had the roughest time getting accustomed to each other and now that ease, that familiarity, that willingness to share something so intimate and it be easy- it makes everything you’d both undergone insignificant.

“Yeah b’cause I’m the desperate one between us,” He smiles as he buckles your seatbelt for you.

“Glad you could admit it, gorgeous.” He kisses you then closes the door before you can complain and all you hear is his laugh as he rounds the car to get in.

#dickgrayson #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson one shot #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson blurb #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson fic #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x black reader #dick grayson x yn #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x gender neutral reader #dick grayson drabble

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loaksbitch · 1 year

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drooling over neteyam hour is open again, just look at him?? jesus. buckle your belts ladies, imagine soft dom neteyam demanding you to throw it back.

warnings - neteyam being neteyam is a warning itself, agedup!neteyam x reader. doggy, short drabble, biting, making, “yeah baby, fuck, throw it back.” — i’m screaming 🧎🏽‍♀️

“fück me back.” — neteyam sully. (⨳)

“shit, looking pretty from behind.” now neteyam won’t lie when he says he likes watching your face when he fucks you in missionary but something about you in all fours, back arched and face pressed down to the mat was doing something to him.

“m-mhgh, ‘teyeam!” you whimper when he starts to give you a deep strokes that makes you see stars, “oh..” your lips form an ‘O’ and hear neteyam chuckle behind you.

“feeling good?” neteyam teases knowing you’re already fucked out to even remember your own name. you’re struggling to form words especially every time he bottoms out with his hands pressing your hips to his pelvis

it feels so good, you admit it’s doing things to you.

“feels…” you stop, moaning loud for him to lean and cover your mouth with his large hands. your eyes roll up to the back of your head. “‘teyam,” you push yourself back to his hips making him hiss and growl

neteyam gets an idea and fully stops moving, your loud whining suddenly cuts off and your frowned and annoyed face turns to look at him. “what’re you doing?” you ask, dumbfounded but his next words makes your ear flatten in horror

“fuck me back,” you never tired this though, how’re you gonna— as if he was reading your thoughts, your mate slowly leans to you and place a soft kiss on your nose. “it’s gonna feel so good baby, trust me.” your widened eyes hesitantly gaze at his swollen lips then back to his eyes

“trust me,” he deeply whispers and leans up back, “arch your back.” neteyam’s voice was now different, more of softer than before. “c’mon baby,” and you do as you’re told. “just like that.” your man hissed behind you

both of his huge hands gripping your hips hard, you feel him press himself against you for his balls to ghost your clit. “oh shit.” he chuckles through a shallow breath. “wait baby, don’t move or else i’ll come inside you” your inside tightening at the thought of that was driving him insane

you wait for your mate to adjust the overstimulation and neteyam taps you hips ever so gently. “now, fuck me” you didn’t think twice before gentle drawing yourself from his cock until his tip was only there and slowly push back, sinking him to his fat girth

oh eywa! your eyes flutter shut and you whine at the feeling.

you’ve full control now, all in fours but fucking him back with no mercy. “good girl” his words cause a sudden yet subtle clench of your walls and neteyam growls a cocky smile painting his beautiful face

“you like it when i call you good girl, huh? you like it baby?” you moan and roughly throw your ass at him. “fuck!” he moans. “such a good girl, you are my baby. such a fuckin’ good girl” you’re moaning a mess under him

realizing his climax is near neteyam must make you fun before he does. you’re now getting pulled up by your waist and neck and feel neteyam press you on his chest that’s covered with sweat. you feel the contact of his strong thighs against your ass and whimper.

“neteyam.” you call his name desperate for the bubble to burst that’s forming in you. “neteyam, neteyam, net…” you’re surely gonna be the death of this man because he feels like he won’t last if you keep saying that

“princess, i need you to cum for me yeah? i’m close.” you nod at his request before grinding your hips like he’s your personal toy you can fuck. “fuck yeah baby, throw it back at me” neteyam bites onto your shoulder creating a bite mark and giving it a kitten lick when you scream

his one hand holding you by your breast bone as the other glides down to rub your sensitive clit was enough to make your bubble burst, completely blinding your sight with black dots. “c-cumming!” you announce before exploding down at him

neteyam lets out a shuddered moan while he’s chasing his own orgasm. “i’m gonna cum, gonna cum baby, ‘m so close.” your mate’s eyes glisten with pleasured tears. you allow him to desperately cling at you, face buried by the curve of your neck.

“where do you want it?” neteyam asks, “baby be fast i can’t hold it.”

you’re too exhausted to think and breath out words between shuddered breath. “a-anywhere.” neteyam nods before deciding fully pull out of you. your jaw drops feeling betrayed when he pulls out of you

“get on your back, wanna see your face when i paint your chest.” his words made you whimper, you really love this man and his nasty words.

you eye neteyam grip his cock and start to jerk off in front of you, “shit, shit, shit” he would say as you watch his dark shaded blue tip disappear to his thumb and reappear when he thrust.

a gasp leaves your lips when ropes of cum leaves the slit and land on your chest, stomach and thighs, painting you so well. “ngh..” strained moan leaves moan leaves his lips and remove his hand from his length.

“you’re so cute with my cum allover you, pretty girl.”

you attentively watch neteyam standing up and with your looks, he knew you’re asking where he’s gonna go. “need to wash this off my hand, princess” he smiles. “be right back and we’ll go to the shores to clean up yeah?”

you smile and nod. “i love you, pretty girl.” and you say it back too.

i wrote this like in thirty five minutes so don’t be surprised for ew ew ew typos yeah? like + reblog i’d appreciated and not pressured!! i love each and everyone of you!! mwah.

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jakexneytiri · 6 months

Note

okay but dilf!jake hating your bf and when he’s fucking you hes making fun of you for hanging out w that boy

YUM. YES.

⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰

“does he ever have you like this?” jake’s words come from above you, while his glistening skin smacks against yours in sharp, rough thrusts.

“does…he…hmmm?” you hum gently, too fucked out to fully think straight.

“does he make you feel this good? d’ya ever go dumb on his dick like this?” jake asks. he raises a calloused hand to grip your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.

your walls immediately clench around him, loving the feeling of his aggressiveness.

jake continues his rough pattern, rutting into you like he hasn’t fucked in weeks. except, it’s only been 24 hours.

desperate, filthy moans are the only noises escaping your lips, truly getting fucked dumb by your olo’eyktan.

“he’s- ohh, mmmm……..not you, if that’s what you’re asking.” you pant softly, inhaling sharp quick breaths.

“s’ not what i’m askin’. does. he. make. you. feel. good?” jake repeats himself, each pause delivering a sharp rut of his hips into yours.

“oh, fuck…” you whine, as his cock continues to repeatedly hit that perfect spongey spot inside you. “does neytiri make you feel this good?” you smirk, attempting to change the subject. sure, your boyfriend gets the job done eventually, even if you have to imagine him as jake to do so. but jake’s just…better. in every way. but you won’t dare admit that to him, his ego’s big enough as it is.

jake chuckles darkly, gripping your jaw so hard you’re swear it’ll leave bruises. “we’re not talkin’ about me, hon.”

a low grunt escapes his lips as the tip of his cock bulges just beneath your navel, earning a satisfied moan from you.

“does he fill you up like this? huh? does he even reach this spot of you, sweetheart?” jake’s thumb runs over the bulge, smirking as he looks over your body. “c’mon, what do you even see in him anyway? candy ass bitch. he’s small, isn’t he? that’s why you need a nice, thick cock like mine, yeah?” he questions, even though he already knows the answer.

“he…he’s…..nice!….and he….fucks me whenever i ask.” you moan out, eyes closed from the pleasure building deep in your womb.

“do you even come? how long does it take him, five minutes? ten?” he teases, smirking as he settles himself in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. “you shouldn’t have to ask, hon. ‘course he’s gonna say yes, who would be dumb enough to say no to you?” reaching his other hand up to your breast, he gives it a hard squeeze, thumb and index finger pinching your sensitive nipple.

“of course i come.” you state, eyes rolling back as you playfully shove at his chest.

“that right? i think if you did, you wouldn’t have my cock buried in your cunt right now, baby.” jake smirks as he says this.

“and he’s terrible in training. tuk could shoot better than he does. then again, can’t blame him if he’s thinkin’ about this sweet pussy all day…..” raising his thumb to his lips, jake sweeps his tongue across the calloused skin, lowering it back down to press against your sensitive clit. slowly, his thumb works in circles as his cock continues to abuse your cunt.

jake feels your walls clamp around him, groaning as his thrusts begin to pick up an even faster rhythm. “jesus, baby. you keep squeezin’ me like that and i might just send you back to that loser with my load inside ‘ya.”

“do it. see what he does.” you pant, challenging him. but jake just smirks and shakes his head.

“kid’s terrified of me. won’t even make eye contact during training. maybe i should mention what a good fuck his little girlfriend is, hm?”

“ohhh, fuck. shut up and fuck me!” you plea desperately, clinging to the nape of jake’s neck.

“so filthy when i’m fuckin’ you dumb, huh? is that any way to ask?” jake tsks, slowly pulling out of you.

“nonono! i’m s-so close, please!” you beg, thrusting your hips upwards in a desperate attempt for jake to slide himself back in.

he just shakes his head as he grabs your hips firmly, turning you over onto your stomach. his fingers dig into the skin on your hips as he raises them up. he grips his cock, tapping the tip of it against your abused hole before he plunges back inside of you.

you let out a loud moan as jake uses one hand to hold your hands behind your back, while the other grips your queue, allowing your back to arch just the way he likes.

the sensation of pain and pleasure is too much for you as your orgasm rips through you, violently shaking and coming undone on jake’s cock. all he needed was to feel your walls fluttering against him to come undone, as well. hot, thick seed coats your womb, filling you so deep you begin to feel bloated from how full you are.

jake continues to ride out his release, mumbling soft “fuck”s while his seed fills you completely. once he’s positive he’s emptied himself entirely, he pulls out of your abused hole ever so gently, watching his seed seep out. “fuck, i love this view. wishin’ i had my camera right about now.”

you just slump against the forest floor, nodding and mumbling nonsense, truly too fucked out now.

jake chuckles, grabbing your loincloth to lace back up first before tying his own. “same time tomorrow?”

you smirk, as he helps you to your feet. “if you’re lucky, old man.”

#jake sully smut #avatar jake smut #dilf jake smut #jake sully x reader smut #avatar jake sully x reader #jake sully fanfiction #jake sully x reader #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x you #jake sully fanfic #jake sully x na'vi reader #dilf jake sully #dilf! jake sully #dilf!jake sully #daddy pookie <3 #daddy jake sully

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fandomwritingbit · 4 months

Text

Sweet girl pt.3

dad's friend William Afton x (fem) virgin reader

synop: Reader goes over to William's to pick up where they left off. Pacing? Who's that?

pt.1 - here. pt.2 - here.

warnings: smut (oral and grinding? dry humping but not dry, idk what you call it), coercion, inappropriate relationship, age gap, generally creepy William.

A/n: Happy new year's! Thought I'd get something dirty out to prove I'm still alive and kicking, hope you enjoy! I have no idea if it's good because I hate everything I write at the moment lmao x.

On your walk home you see him before he sees you. The pang of excitement in your chest is so strong it winds you as the sensation travels down lower, settling in the part of you that screams for attention when William is around. You should keep your head down and slip unnoticed up the steps to your house, but the trouble is that you want to be noticed. You’ve been high on the memory of last time, desperate to feel it again. So you stop still, fiddling with the hem of your skirt and looking over your shoulder until eventually you pluck up the courage and cross the road.

He’s doing something to his car, checking the tire pressure or something, still wearing his smart clothes from work. His head turns as you approach, the slow smile spreading across his face as he realises it’s little you, here to see him, has your head spinning already.

“Hi…” You start, your voice tiny and uncertain.

“Hi?” He grins at you as he stands up, pressing the tip of his shoe into the tire and seeming satisfied with the result. “You come over here just to say that?” William looks you up and down, another pretty little skirt showing off your legs, you must be doing this on purpose. Still though, you coming to him and seeking him out is a good thing, progress towards you becoming his pet.

You blink, hating that he almost instantly makes you feel like an idiot, especially given that you can’t seem to summon the faculties to prove otherwise. It’s pathetic how your face is flushed already as you struggle to figure out a response, why did you come over here? It’s stupid really, you’ve come to see him with the hope that, like last time, he’ll steal you away and corrupt you a little more. But you can’t exactly admit that.

“Uhh. I don’t know why I came over… sorry.” Is the sentence you mutter just to try and end the awkward silence that was blooming as he waited expectantly, and you know it’s daft the second you say it.

He laughs, which makes you feel doubly idiotic. “I’m only joking, sweetheart. You came over because you want to pick up where we left off the other day, right?” Your eyes go wide at his bluntness, shame doesn’t seem to be an emotion he’s ever come into contact with, instead it feels like you end up getting his share of it.

As sweet as you look all embarrassed and hesitant, he lets you have some reprieve and changes the subject, “Are your parents expecting you home?” Now, as naïve as you are, you do know that that question actually means ‘are you free to disappear for a while?’, and it fills your stomach with butterflies.

And again the tiny devil on your shoulder persuades you to go along with him. “No. No, they don’t know what I’m doing.” You dare to look him fully in the eye then and the intention in them has your core burning.

“Then you have to come in for a bit.” His hand rests on your lower back as he guides you towards his front door, already struggling with the urge to tear that skirt right off you.

After getting inside, you look nervously over your shoulder to see him closing the door, that familiar excitement sizzling in your veins, and when he turns to see you looking all small and scared he can’t resist teasing you. “God, sweetheart, I can read you like a book. You’re nervous, huh?”

Rubbing your arm you avert your gaze, “I mean, yeah, a little.” The scoff from him shows that you’re not doing a great job of being convincing. It upsets you a bit that you can’t act all sexy and brave because you are lost in what to do, but you can tell that he likes that, and that feels very dirty.

“Oh, you don’t don’t have to be.” He moves closer to you and you battle with yourself to not move away, you shouldn’t be doing this, you shouldn’t have done this before but you can’t help it. “I told you, we’re going to have fun.” He raises his eyebrows on the last word, and despite how overly sweet his tone is it does nothing to combat the intimidation of his bigger frame, now close enough that you swear you can feel his heat. His hand raises up to toy with the collar of your shirt, resting just above the curve of your breasts.

The grazing touch is like ice on your skin, making goosebumps appear everywhere they’re able. “I just-” You blink in surprise at yourself talking, unsure when you decided to speak, “I don’t think I’m ready to uh… you know-” He does, in fact, know.

“Fuck?” He puts you out of your misery, the word crass enough to make your answer visible on your face. It sounds natural coming from him but you could have though of a million other ways to say it. “That’s what you’re scared of?” His hand moves up to tilt your chin to face him, his thumb resting over the plump of your bottom lip. “Listen, that’s not going to happen 'til you really want it. More than you clearly already do.” He was right, you do want it, you’re wet, your panties sticking to your core in a shamefully eager way.

You nod slightly in some form of acknowledgement but it’s cut short when he kisses you, the thought instantly evaporating from your head as he takes control of you. It’s that simple, his mouth on yours, his hand taking in the shape of your hips, that’s all it takes before you’re lost. You’ve been kissed before, had your share of grimy teenage make-out sessions, but this is insane, it gets more so when his tongue invades your mouth, stealing some pitiable noise from you. Instinctively you press against him, your hands tugging at the fabric of his shirt like you’re afraid he’ll stop.

Pretty quickly his grip on your waist dips down, fingers slipping under the waistband of your skirt and beginning to pull it down, your hand stops him. He pulls away, “You gonna let me see you? Huh?” He’s asking but still touching you, the other hand plucking your shirt and lifting it from your skin, watching your expression. You bring your lip between your teeth, nervous but still able to hum some agreement. Your shirt soon comes over your head and the skirt slips from your feet, leaving you feeling very exposed under his gaze.

He takes half a step back to take in the sight of you in your bra and panties, “Now, who are these for?” He asks, aroused-tinted mockery coating the words. You’re not sure what he’s talking about until he flicks the strap of your knickers lying over your hip.

“What?” You flinch when the material pings back against your skin, the amusement in his eyes a little mean-spirited. “N-no one.” You manage to remember to respond, only making him grin.

“No one? This skimpy little bra and panties, for no one?” You know he’s taking the piss but you can’t help but pout at the mockery, your brows furrowed when he moves, still chuckling, to kiss your neck. He’s slightly unshaven and the scruff against your skin has you squirming, your hand finding a natural place on the back of his head, fingers lacing and pulling when he bites an aching kiss right where your neck meets your shoulder. It’s the blazing kind of pain that only lasts a moment, but the pitiful moan from you would have anyone thinking otherwise.

It’s that pretty sound from you that forces him to briefly lift you onto the long table just next to his front door, pulling your bra down to flick his tongue over your nipple whilst roughly grabbing the other. He feels a little bad for you when you whimper from his touch, remembering that he should be a bit nicer to you really, so he takes himself away from your tits, dropping down to his knees. You firmly press your legs together in response, but when his warm hands land high on your thighs, you let him slowly pull them apart, revealing the wet spot on your panties.

You watch him still biting your lip, anxious of what he was going to do. He smirks up at you and you’re so distracted by it that his sudden contact with your core makes you jump, he traces the shape of your pussy over your knickers, dragging over your clit and then up higher to catch the edge of the garment. You help him pull them down by lifting yourself from the table, shivering when he leans in close, his breath making your pussy clench.

“You poor, pretty little thing.” He sniggers, just the sight of your cunt has precum leaking from his cock. You watch idiotic as he slowly drags his tongue over your pussy, the sensation completely foreign but something you instantly fall in love with, evident in the way you moan. He maps out the path from your entrance up to your clit with his tongue, giving himself something to think about later. This perfect untouched cunt, sweet as fucking honey all for him; the thought has him grabbing himself over his trousers, giving his cock some much needed attention, as he focuses his action on your clit. It’s like he knows exactly what you need, because he finds the right rhythm immediately, slowly circling your nerves in a way that has you writhing above him.

He has to hold your thigh to keep you still, the mixed feeling of this intense stimulation and the dull rub of his facial hair could give you whiplash. You’d be so embarrassed to see yourself right now, pathetic moans and whimpers tumbling from your lips as you fall mercy to the insane building of pressure in your core. It’s like a flame on gasoline, a sudden, scorching need to cum that burns your legs all the way up to your chest. He grunts into your pussy, making you open your eyes for the first time in apparently ages, just to see him stroking his cock, turned on from making you dumb.

“God, fucking look at you.” He stops his sucking of your clit to speak, leaving you hanging in such a devastating way you want to cry. “It’s very hard not to give this cunt what it fucking wants.” The sharp words have your walls clenching, only proving his point. Without warning he stands, still holding your legs open, and taps his cock against your core, the idea of him fucking you seems very real and very scary right now, especially with how big he looks. But you want it, you really fucking want him to do anything to you he wants, just as long as you can cum.

The precum dripping from his head clings to your slick as he slides his cock down, digging delightfully against your clit before notching at your entrance, sharply glancing at your watery eyes. He’s a man of his word but fucking hell, he wants to feel that tight little hole around him. He grunt as he moves up again, sliding his cock through your folds, grinding it against your bundle of nerves and reigniting the climb to your peak.

“Come here.” He mutters as he pushes you down slightly on the table, catching your legs and lifting them up to press your thighs together, holding both your ankles in a firm grip. He continues rutting against your cunt, your thighs creating a slick grip for him, almost as good as the real thing. Your too concerned with the rearing of your climax to think about how fucking lewd this is, this older man thrusting against your pussy and you’re enjoying it, it’s maddening. But you don’t really care, not when your walls flicker with waves of pleasure, squeezing around nothing as your legs begin to shake. You cum hard enough to lose your power of speech, instantly overstimulated by the continued pressure on your clit.

When you cum he loses it, your wet heat and desperate hands grabbing what parts of him you can reach, needy for him, is intoxicating. You feel him move your legs apart again, letting them fall to his sides, taking hold of his dick and stroking it til he finishes. A gasp leaves your lips at the filthy sensation of his cum coating your pussy and lower abdomen, you can hardly believe it’s real and not the end scene of a dirty video.

“God.” He groans, taping his cockhead against your pussy just to make you flinch. You just whine in response half in the odd sense of calm after tumbling over your peak, but half in self pity for the stickiness between your legs. You watch as he fixes himself, very aware that you're still slumped on the table but unwilling to move.

“Come on.” William says through a smirk, you look a right state and he prides himself on his good work. “You'll have to get cleaned up.” He takes your arm and pulls you forward 'til you land on your feet, now very aware that your bra is clinging on for dear life and the rest of your clothes are in a heap on the floor.

“I'll just grab my-” You start, indicating towards the pile, but he cuts you off.

“You're in no rush, shower first. Worry about that later.” You probably would have protested but he guides you forward, turning a corner and entering a bathroom.

“Thank you.” You say a little uncertainly. Yes, it's nice of him to show you where things are and let you get sorted before turfing you out; yet something about the glint in his eyes screams ulterior motive. He leaves you to it, all sorted with a towel, and disappears to make sure your panties end up in his pocket where they belong.

Pt.4

#fnaf #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf smut #william afton x you #fnaf william afton #fnaf movie #steve raglan #steve raglan x reader

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spacecowboyhotch · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 7 (& 8): Soft & Slow (Cockwarming)

pairing: college!miguel o’hara x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, smut, rivals to lovers, teasing

wc: 735

an: wrote this for the sweetest most lovely @campingwiththecharmings, i hope you enjoy bb 🥰

kinktober masterlist | misc. masterlist

“Are you giving up?” Miguel asks you after several moments of silence.

“What? No!” You glare down at him breathlessly.

Why does the man who grinds your gears like it’s job have to be so attractive? Smooth skin, deep brown eyes, the cheekbones of Adonis. It pisses you off, but at least he can make you feel good. That’s all this is, all you want it to be. It’s sex. Just sex. Or maybe that’s what you keep telling yourself.

His grip on your hips tightens, shifting them up and down slowly. The sweet drag of his cock makes your mind blank, a shiver skating down your spine. He watches you with hooded eyes, drinking in every expression and sound that leaves you. He loves you like this, warming his cock just on the edge of pleasure as he quizzes you over and over again on this week’s physics lecture.

“Then answer the question,” He says, eyes glittering with mischief.

“I-I’m thinking,” You insist, though that couldn’t be farther from the truth. He’s been teasing you for a while now— keeping you pinned on his cock with a thrust or roll of hips here and there. You’re dizzy and needy, all you can focus on is him. On him making you cum.

“About how good my cock feels?”

“Fuck you.”

He laughs beneath you, loud and full, and your breath catches at the way it sends him a hair deeper. “You can’t think that was a good comeback.”

You groan, swatting playfully at his chest, “Please, Mig, can’t we just get off first?”

He sits up in a move that makes you whimper, nuzzling his nose against yours, “Where’s the fun in that? You could just admit that I’m smarter. I’ll fuck you however you want after that.”

“You fucking wish.”

Snaking his hand between your slick bodies he presses two fingers to your clit as he continues to goad you, “We both know it’s true, c’mon angel, don’t you want me to make you cum?”

“Yes,” You moan, head falling to the side. You don’t care anymore, you just need more. You need him.

“Yes, what?”

“You’re smarter, just fuck me. Please.”

He holds you tight to his chest, pressing you into the mattress and pinning your hands down above your head. While he’s fucking you earnestly now, his hips grind against yours at a leisurely pace, pressing against that sensitive spot inside you. All you can do is gasp and groan beneath him, listening to the filth that pours out of his mouth.

I’ve got you. There you go. So cock drunk, look at you. Cum for me, honey.

You do just that, cumming for him with a high pitched wail that he cuts off with a kiss. Your mind whirls, so much so that you don’t notice when he joins you in your peak, or when he rolls to lay beside you, still holding you close.

“I take it back. You don’t play fair,” You quip once your mind returns to you, breath still labored.

He raises a brow at you, cupping your face with his hand to tilt your chin up, “When has this rivalry ever been fair?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“And clearly, you need some tutoring,” He teases, grin widening when you roll your eyes at him. “Stay— I’ll make us dinner.”

“Dinner,” You repeat skeptically, looking over at him to gauge his seriousness.

“Yes, two people eating a meal together at night. A common occurrence, querida.”

“Like…like a date?” You ask softly.

Miguel’s gaze flatters— something you’ve never seen before. He’s the spokesman for confidence, even if he’s wrong he’s always ready to assure you that he can do better. But right now…he looks shy. It throws you off.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, like a date.”

Silence spreads between you two. You have to be cautious about this— what if it’s one of his jokes? A way to get in your head.

“What happened to this being a rivalry?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m tired of fighting,” He looks up at you, and there’s something soft, something gooey about the way he’s looking at you.

Your mouth pulls up into a shy smile as you say, “Well. Dinner’s not gonna cook itself.”

He snorts, shaking his head as he rises out of the bed, shimming into his boxers. Leaning down he kisses you, murmuring into your mouth, “Stay put smart ass.”

oscar: @honeybrowne, @pastanoodles11, @steven-grants-world, @stevengrcnt, @greg-montgomery, @lesbianhotch, @mccn-bcys, @marc-spectorr, @whatthefishh, @simpforbritgents, @maisondenachtai, @silversprings-mp3, @flightlessangelwings

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara smut #arson’s kinktober #fawktober2023 #not sfw

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jinwoosungs · 8 days

Text

{ 151 }

enough is enough.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

{ take me home, don’t shut me out | it’s easier to leave me down here on the ground | take me home, baby i’m fucked up now | i know it’s easier to leave me down here on the ground | ‘cause enough is enough… }

you had gotten into an argument with jinwoo, feeling your insecurities resurface the moment you saw him standing together with cha hae-in in a picture seen within a news article that detailed their latest raid together.

your phone lands against the hardwood floors of your apartment, the article that had jinwoo and hae-in together still seen against your phone’s screen. currently, your eyes blazing with fury as you kept poking a finger against jinwoo’s chest. “why the hell is she always standing next to you like that? you already know i had deep suspicions when it comes to her!”

jinwoo’s eyes were glowing purple in response, yet he keeps his hands balled up into fists, trying to ensure that he would not hurt you while you were in the midst of arguing with him.

“and the fact that she admits to being into you despite knowing your relationship with me just further annoys me! how could you be so comfortable with her proximity?!”

“you’re overreacting again.” jinwoo finally replies through gritted teeth, choosing instead to head to the fridge as he grabbed a bottle of water. you follow him into the kitchen with your arms crossed, frowning as your eyes continued to glare at him, watching him drink his water while trying to gather your thoughts.

despite being with him since he was an e-rank hunter, you felt as though you were losing the confidence to stay by his side with the way he was now-

a powerful and sought after s-rank hunter.

you didn’t know why you got so angry, so anxious, each time hae-in was close to jinwoo. hell, this wasn’t even the first time you blew up. each time the news or rumors began to surface pertaining to how perfect jinwoo and hae-in were together, you felt devastated.

but deep down, you knew it was because she was more fit to remain by his side than you ever could be.

cha hae-in was an s-rank hunter like him. she could fight by his side without any fear-

unlike you, a mere civilian.

not only was she powerful, but she was achingly beautiful as well. with golden hair and stormy, grey eyes, you knew that compared to her, you didn’t stand a chance.

“it’s such a mystery why you’re here with me.” you manage to tell him in a cold tone, willing yourself to cease caring when jinwoo stiffens in response. “in fact, i feel like you loved me more when you were still an e-rank hunter. i may have even preferred that you stay that way. now… you spend most of your days ignoring me, choosing instead to go on raids- i don’t even know you anymore.”

jinwoo’s eyes continued to glow a deeper purple hue in response when he sets aside his half-empty bottle of water, his tone filled with ice when he tells you, “oh yeah, you may be right then. maybe cha hae-in is more suited for me. at least she won’t constantly nag at me like you do.”

red hot anger (and heartwrenching pain) courses through you, forcing your body to act on instinct when you pick up the bottle of water and toss its contents onto jinwoo.

your eyes widen in response to your actions, seeing the way the water drips down his face and against his shirt. you felt a sense of guilt surrounding you, and when you tried to apologize to him, no words would come out.

jinwoo hides his gaze from you, making you uncertain of his true emotions when he takes quick strides away from you. only when he leaves (slamming your front door in response) did you finally slump down against the ground.

you were actively crying on your knees now, your sobs becoming so potent and painful that your chest ached in response. you felt nauseous, feeling the snot dripping down your nose as you allowed yourself to bask in this pain.

uncertain as to how much time had passed, you only stood back up when the ache against your knees became too much to bear. your hiccups echo throughout the now cold and empty apartment, and you harshly wipe away at your dripping nose. you let out a shaky sigh and forlornly speak to yourself, “you’re such a damn mess. there’s no way jinwoo will come back to you now- i’m such an idiot.”

believing that this was the end for you and jinwoo, you figured that enough was enough for him. he could no longer stand your constant questionings and insecurities pertaining to hae-in-

he was probably running into cha hae-in’s arms right now.

and that thought was enough to further break you.

still sobbing to yourself, you drag your feet across the floors. you pick up your phone and settle it on the coffee table, making your way back to your bedroom as you forced yourself to calm down with a shower. tasting the saltiness of your tears against your damp skin, you lick at your chapped lips and turn on the faucet, making it go as hot as it could go.

peeling off your clothes, you step into the shower and wash away your tears. you bask in the comfort of the hot waters, feeling the droplets soothe your aching bones and muscles. as you began to relax, you decided to spoil yourself a bit and cleanse your body with your favorite scented soap and shampoo. you remain in the shower for close to an hour, only stopping when you felt fully refreshed.

as you wrapped your towel around your naked body, you head back into your room to get dressed in your pajamas, ready to turn in for the night while trying not to think about how his side of the bed would be empty.

once you were fully dressed, you realized that your mind was racing too much to really fall asleep. so, you decided to cheer yourself up, instead. heading to your kitchen, you open up the freezer and got out your favorite flavor of ice cream, uncapping the carton while grabbing a shiny silver spoon.

with your ice cream in hand, you settle yourself on the couch and turn on your t.v. to a random channel, not paying attention to what was going on while digging into your ice cream. you knew that you wouldn’t be able to sleep in the same room that still held all of jinwoo’s belongings and already resigned yourself to a sleepless night on the couch.

yet in the midst of your moping, you heard a series of knocks coming from your door.

“sarang, it’s me. please, let me in?”

you drop your ice cream and spoon on the ground, recognizing jinwoo’s voice. the palm of his hand continues to slam against your door as a sense of desperation was heard in his voice.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you jealous. and i didn’t mean what i said about hunter cha being better for me. she’s a mere colleague, and she only likes me for the way i am now.”

“i’ll admit, she is powerful, and many consider her beautiful- but she doesn’t make my heart race like you do. being around her is stifling, since she only sees and knows me as a powerful hunter. i have to act that way around her at all times-

but with you, i can breathe. you have been with me since the beginning. you have seen me at my weakest, and still love me unconditionally. the same could never be said about hunter cha hae-in.”

you felt the tears streaming down your face as jinwoo stopped knocking on your door, seeming to slump against it as you heard a light ‘thump!’ coming from the door.

“it doesn’t matter, even if you leave me all alone out here, i’ll simply sleep on the ground until you forgive me.”

unable to handle the thought of leaving jinwoo alone, you stand and quickly open the door, revealing jinwoo with bloodshot eyes and a tiny smile. in his hands, you saw an extravagant bouquet along with a cute teddy bear in his arms with an ‘i’m sorry’ message written in a neat script on its plush belly.

letting out a happy sob, you wrap your arms around jinwoo’s neck, nearly crushing the bouquet he had bought for you.

“i’m sorry for throwing water at y-you, and telling you i loved you more when you were weaker… i love you regardless of your s-strength…” you tell him with a shaky sigh as your boyfriend returns your hug while letting out a soft chuckle. “it’s okay, i kind of deserved it; and i know that you love me unconditionally, like you always do.”

jinwoo continues to hold you in his arms before continuing to speak, “five minutes after leaving you, i deeply regretted hurting you and cried. i immediately called jinah for some advice… and after berating me and calling me an idiot, she told me to buy you your favorite gifts all while begging you to take me back.”

you giggle and give jinwoo a squeeze, silently thinking of the ways you could treat jinah for helping you and jinwoo make up.

“well, your sister just proved how much smarter she is compared to her oppa.” you giggle before taking the cute teddy bear and bouquet out of his arms, basking in jinwoo’s embrace as he presses a lingering kiss against your hair after he closed the door.

you stay in his embrace and sway against him. “jinwoo?”

“hm?”

you look up at him with a hopeful gaze. “did you mean… everything that you said? that you can breathe and be yourself around me… and not with cha hae-in?”

jinwoo gives you a smile while brushing back your hair. “i meant every word.”

after that single phrase, you felt all of your doubts disappear when he gives you a sweet, but chaste, kiss, feeling him smile against your lips before pulling away from you.

“let me continue making it up to you… how about i make you your favorite food as a late dinner?”

your eyes became alight with happiness with the promise of jinwoo’s cooking, making you follow your beloved boyfriend into the kitchen as he successfully continues to mend your broken heart with his loving actions alone.

a.n. - i finished making my presentations and am ready to present later on for my classes today, so i’m treating myself to writing another jinwoo story for good luck ♡ after all, writing about jinwoo gives me strength 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo #jinwoo sung #.stories

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tiredmamaissy · 1 year

Note

hey beautiful, could i request a sub neteyam x reader (wifey) with an exhibition, spitting in mouth and degradation kink.

context: neteyam is oblivious to flirting from other females. so, reader decides to make it a point to show everyone neteyam's is theirs.

love love love your work. thanks for providing the neteyam spice that we all need 🤌🥰

Hide and Peek

a lil sumn sumn for y'all before bed

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: Neteyam Sully (20) x Omatikaya Reader Y/N (19) Warnings: NSFW, degradation kink, spitting in mouth, exhibition, oral sex, foot stuff, knotting, sub neteyam

Word Count: 3.5k Authors note: My first ever request. This is a softer version of exhibition, etc. as public things are sort of a trigger me, so I hope this is okay, anon! :) lowkey got into it at the end, though.

Intro:

It’s been a few weeks since you and the Sully family have sought uturu in the Metkayina village, Awa’atlu. At first, the people were wary of all of you, thinking that providing you guys with a sanctuary would bring danger upon their people. However, after pulling your weight and adapting well to their way of life, they’ve become accepting of you and the Sully family. You and Neteyam have been so focused on adapting that your intimacy has taken quite a hit, to the point where the Metkayina people think you’re apart of the family, rather than Neteyam’s mate.

----

You sit in the sand next to Kiri, soaking up the warm rays of the sun that beats on your bodies.

“I could definitely get used to this. It’s not too bad here.” You say, digging your toes further into the sand. Kiri giggles, and shakes her head. “Nothing will compare to home. But I will admit that here is nice. Look around us, Eywa keeps on giving.” She takes a deep breath, savoring the scent of the ocean. You close your eyes and dip your head back, listening to the waves crash into the shore. It’s so serene that you feel like you’re going to fall asleep any second, when you hear three voices behind you. “Yeah. That Neteyam boy is cute. I’m glad he’s unmated... because I would mate with him.” Alira says, smiling to herself.

You look at Kiri, and scoff. “Forget what I said.” “Yeah? Well, I’d do way more than just mate with him.” Maru smirks. “Me too. I’d spit in his mouth and dominate the fuck out of him.” Vineya laughs, looking down at her feet.

Maru looks at Vineya. “Okay that’s a bit far… I’d probably just call him a few dirty names and put him in his place. He looks like he wants to be tamed.” She giggles.

“Well, I’d take his knot happily. It must be huge… he’s so tall and muscular. I just want to eat him up.” Alira mumbles to herself. “Definitely. I’d eat him alright. Probably have him eat me too.” Vineya moans softly, getting excited. “Maybe we can all share him then.” Maru suggests. “Shit. He’s coming, shush!” The words coming out of their mouths set a fire deep in your chest. Jealous isn’t a good enough word to describe the burning sensation inside your chest. You’re so livid that you feel like getting up and putting them in their place for talking about your mate like an object. He is not unmated. He is your mate, and he has been since he became a man. Kiri rests a hand on your thigh, as if to say, ‘don’t listen to them’. Her touch brings you back to reality. You shake your head, trying to get their words out your head.

Neteyam walks over to you guys, braids swaying side to side, and calls for you. “Kiri. Y/n.”

He glances at Kiri, and then at you, looking you up and down whilst smiling. He’s happy to see you. Likewise. You both stand up to greet him. “Brother. Coming to disturb us I see.” Kiri rolls her eyes. “Hey, you.” You walk towards him, returning the smile. “Just coming to check up on you two.” Neteyam says, resting a hand on your lower back. “Yeah. We all know who you’re actually here to check up on.” Kiri shakes her head, turning around to go sit back down in the sand. “I guess that’s my cue to leave.”

Neteyam laughs. “I cannot say she is wrong. I have been missing you. Dad has me watching Lo’ak, sorry I have been away so often.” He leans into you, moving his hand to your waist.

The simple touch feels so good; it’s been too long. You see the group of girls watching you guys intently. They talk among themselves, trying to encourage each other to come over and make a move.

You lean into your mate, and tippy toe, brushing your lips against his ear ever so slightly. He holds onto your waist a little tighter, providing you with some support, as he tilts his head down.

“Eclipse. Our spot. I miss you more, by the way.” You whisper in his ear, although it was more of a moan, and drop back to the flat of your feet. He turns to you, brows raised, and a grin plastered on his face. He stares at your lips - his way of saying ‘understood, my mate’. The girls make their way over and Neteyam loosens his grip around your waist to acknowledge the oncoming company. Neteyam was raised to be a gentleman, so he greets and speaks kindly to all people, even the ones with an ulterior motive. Typically, this means he’s oblivious to all flirting outside of yours – he couldn’t quite understand why someone would flirt with a mated man. He greets them with a smile, like a gentleman, which sends the wrong message. Strike one. Their approach is aggressive, causing you to take a step back as they surround your mate. You see red, the heat now radiating from your chest to the rest of your body. Did they not just see you touch your mate? Whisper in his ear? Him grab you by the waist? What more do they need, you to fuck him in front of them? Not a bad idea, y/n. You smile to yourself, and then at them. “Hey…” he looks at each one of them up and down as they circle him. Strike two. “Hey, mighty warrior” Vineya speaks, brushing her hand over his bicep. “You are a warrior, yes? You have the body of one” Neteyam laughs with her awkwardly, “Yes... I am”. “Hi. Do all Omatikaya people have braids?” Alira asks, twirling her finger around one of his braids, completely ignoring Kiri’s hairstyle. Neteyam is taken aback by the physicality, but puts it off to curiosity. “Not all of us, no.” He examines the girl intently. Strike three. “My name is Maru, hi.” She looks at his tail, stroking it from base to tip. “Your tail is so different... aren’t you slower in the water?” she asks. He chuckles uncomfortably and steps back, inching his way back to you. “Uh, somewhat. I am getting the hang of it, though.” He smiles at them and turns around to face you. “Y/n. I must go, dad is expecting me soon.” He smiles at you, tucking a braid behind your ear. “Kiri, I’ll see you later.” He waves at her, and then the group of girls. “Bye Neteyam! Hope to see you again soon!” The girls say in unison. Kiri rolls her eyes for a second time. “No respect.” She grabs your hand and pulls you towards your Marui pod.

To her surprise, you smile at her with a twitching eye, and say "Give me a minute.” You approach the girls who are gushing over your mate, once again. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation, girls. I’m y/n.” you greet them. “Neteyam… he’s quite the catch, isn’t he?” They all greet you, looking you up and down. “He is. Any way that you could set us up?” They laugh again. “Yeah. Definitely.” You shrug your shoulder, smiling with them. “Y/n!” Kiri whisper calls for you, with confusion plastered all over her face. You move your hand discreetly to your back and shoo her away. “Sorry for my sister, she’s ready to go home.” You smile. “Anyways, as I was saying. There is a spot that I know about that Neteyam likes to go for some ‘alone time’. No one else is really allowed to follow him there, but I could show you guys.” You lean into their circle and whisper, “but you have to keep hidden, and quiet – very quiet.” They all quiet down and huddle into you, as if they were being told a secret. “Okay. We will be” They whisper, grinning with excitement. You pull back. “Good. Meet me here right before the eclipse, and I’ll show you where it is.” You smile, taking some strides backwards. “See you girls later.” You take Kiri’s arm and walk away quickly. “What are you thinking?” Kiri interrogates you. “I’m going to teach them a lesson. A lesson that’s obviously needed.” You say, dropping your mask and showing her your true feelings. “And how exactly are you going to do that?” Kiri asks, rolling her eyes for a third time. “You don’t want to know the details. Trust me.” You fume, breathing heavily.

----

When you get to the shore, you see the three girls huddled together talking amongst each other. The sky is getting dim as the eclipse is fast approaching. You walk over to them. “Hey girls.” You nudge your head in the direction of the rocky coast. “Follow me” You call for your ilu.

They come willingly, excited to spy on Neteyam. You all bond with your ilus and make your way over to the secluded spot, a small open cave, nestled in a sea of rocks by the mangroves. When you all arrive, you see Neteyam waiting patiently for his mate, his bioluminescence glowing in the darkness. Seeing your mate took your breath away, as it did for everyone else, too. You were ready to take him and make him yours all over again. You all hide behind the curves of the mangroves, peaking through the cracks of the roots. They’re mesmerized by this glowing body, as he starts to remove his hunting knife from his hip. He fiddles with his loincloth, repositioning it before he makes his way into the water. Spying on your mate like this arouses you, your already wet loincloth becomes wetter from your slick. You fall back, and swim quietly away from the girls, making your way towards a hidden hole in the mangroves that lead to the small open cave. You swim low and slow, keeping hidden until the very last moment, where you see your mate walking into the water. You slowly emerge out of the water, just as he’s crotch deep. In your direct line of sight is his cock, imprinting out of his wet loincloth. Brushing your face against his bulge, you stand slowly looking deep in his eyes. You make your way to the shallow end of the cave, backing him up against the rocky wall.

“Hey, mighty warrior.” You run your hand up his arm and squeeze his bicep. “You are a warrior, yes?” you lean into his chest, and kiss his muscular breast. “You have the body of one.”

He looks down at you with a smirk on his face, knowing exactly what you’re doing. He responds with his line, “Yes... I am.” He pulls you in closer by your waist, leaning in to kiss you. You cup his bulge suddenly, making him jolt instead. “Need help removing this?” You smile, brushing your lips against his.

“I missed you, my mate.” He moans into your mouth, moving his hands up your back.

You glance to the surprised eyes that peer through the cracks of the mangroves and smirk. “I missed you more, my love.” You look back at him and meet your lips with his.

He kisses you hungrily, allowing his hands to explore your body, running his hand along your queue. You melt into his feverish touches, rubbing his bulge eagerly.

“I want to try something new today. You trust me, yes?” you whisper into his mouth.

“I trust you, always.” He smiles, nibbling on his bottom lip.

“Good.” You twirl one of his braids around your finger, then tuck it behind his ear.

You move your hand to the base of his queue, and run it along it’s length, holding the end and bringing it between you two. You both watch his tendrils dance excitedly, while he brings your queue forward. He puts your queue against his, and both your tendrils intertwine, connecting together. The feeling is exhilarating, causing both your eyes to dilate as you sync with one another.

The girls watching feel like they're invading a deeply intimate moment between mates – because they are. They’re taken aback, whispering to each other that they didn’t know you were his mate and that they thought you were merely his sister, or some sort of family pet. As much as they want to leave, they can’t. You see them linger longer, watching the show intently.

Being watched like this gives you an adrenaline rush, bringing feelings of extreme excitement to your body, transferring it to Neteyams.

“Why so excited?” he asks, watching you kiss your way down his body.

“Just excited to see you, babe.” Your sloppy, wet kisses reach his belly, where you play with the dips of his abs with your tongue.

His breath becomes raggedly, and his cock hardens even more.

“You’re making me rock-hard, y/n.” he says through a clenched jaw, feeling good from your kisses.

You untie the knot of his loincloth, unleashing his raging cock. You could practically hear the girls gasp at his length. You were going to give them the show of their lives. You rub your face against his cock, breathing in his musky scent. He stares down at you, with desire in his eyes. He wants you so badly, and you can feel it.

“I just want to eat you up.” you taunt, licking his cock from base to tip.

Eat me up? he thinks, confused.

“But, I prefer you eat me first.” You stand up quickly, moving him to switch positions with you.

You lean back against the wall, and rest your foot on a rock, opening your legs. “Get on your knees.” You demand him.

He looks at you, with an arched eyebrow and smiles, as if he can’t believe the words coming out your mouth. “What?”

You hear the faint giggles coming from the mangroves, as if they were saying that you couldn’t dominate your mate.

You untie your own loincloth and use it to blindfold your mate. “I said, kneel.” You say sternly.

He kneels immediately, obeying his mate’s command. His nose brushes against the soft flesh between your legs that lay open. He inhales deeply, savouring the sweet scent of your cunt.

You grab a fist full of his braids and shove his face into your pussy. “Now, eat.”

Being blindfolded, he has to rely solely on his other senses. His hands explore your thighs, while his tongue licks the flesh between your thighs, tasting the different flavours your body has to offer. Once he starts tasting the sweetness of your nectar, he laps up your juices hungrily. His nose is buried in your cunt, rubbing against your sensitive pearl, while he drinks the juices that flow out of you.

“Good boy. Fuck” you moan, rubbing your cunt against his face while gripping his head.

He’s drunk off your scent, gulping the slick that fills his mouth the more he eats you out. The water splashes against his back as he kneels and sucks on your clit, making your legs shake. You look down and see him, blind folded, making out with your cunt and it sends you over the edge.

“Ugh, f-fuck. You look like my little fuck toy sucking on my clit like that.” you purr, caressing his cheek. “Does this little toy want my cum?” you tease, feeling your climax approaching.

Yes. Fuck. He begs you.

All he can do is let throaty moans vibrate through his nose into your cunt, which brings you even closer to your peak. His breath is heavy, panting hot air into your pussy while he’s gripping your thighs as you thrust into his face, desperate to cum inside his mouth.

You dip your head back, feeling ecstasy from your mate lapping up your pussy juices, and peak at the girls watching you about to cum in his mouth. You give them a smile, and they look away in embarrassment.

“Look at me.” You demand.

They look back at you, eyes wide, looking you up and down.

He shakes his head. I can’t see, y/n.

“Not you, baby boy.” You moan breathlessly, about to cum any second. The thought of them watching you face fuck their little crush makes you so, so turned on.

You can tell your mate is getting weary, as his movements are becoming more erratic, desperate for you to cum in his mouth.

“Yeah? Want me to cum inside your mouth that bad? Fuck.” You moan, shoving your pussy against his face.

The heat in your chest shoots down your spine, into your cunt, and out into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck! Cumming!” you shriek, grabbing his head and pushing it harder into your cunt.

You look down to see your mate gulping loudly, swallowing every drop of sweep nectar that drips out of your aching hole. You pull his face away from your cunt suddenly, letting him gasp for air. Strings of your cum that connect your pussy to his lips break as he sits back into the dip of his feet.

His shoulders move up and down from how hard he’s trying to catch his breath, making choking noises in the process. His hands rest on his thighs as he hangs his head, your cum still dripping down his mouth onto his chest. You’re panting too, trying to come down from your high.

“You did well, sweetheart.” You praise him.

Using a single finger under his chin to tilt his head upwards, he parts his lips, panting small, hot breaths.

“Open wider.” You command. He opens wider, tilting his head back even more, and you spit directly into his mouth. He whimpers, completely under your trance. “Swallow.”

He swallows your spit greedily, licking his bottom lip, corner to corner. Your foot presses against his bulging, throbbing cock, causing him to whine under your touch.

“Since you were such a good boy, I’ll make you feel good.” You take your mates cock between your toes, providing him with just enough friction.

The strings of precum dripping from his throbbing cockhead coat your toes in a thick slick, allowing him to thrust his hips freely.

“Work for it, my little cumslut.” He bucks his hips into your toes, moaning and whining loudly.

“Nghh... y/n. Why are you acting this way?” he asks through shaky breaths, working for his climax.

“It’s your punishment.” You state, like it was a fact.

“What did I do, baby? Mmnnh…” he whimpers, his head dipping back from being almost there.

“You don’t know?” you pull back your foot.

He thrusts against nothing into the air, still trying to chase his orgasm. “Fuck. Please, y/n.” he begs, extending his hand to touch himself.

You kick away his hand and crouch over, taking off his blind fold to reveal his watery, drunk eyes, willing to do anything to cum. “What did you think of those girls?”

“I don’t know, y/n.” he whines, “...they were friendly, I guess”

“No.” you straddle him. “They were flirting. With my mate.” You take the entirety of his pulsing, swollen cock inside your slippery cunt in one thrust, already feeling his knot emerging.

You both moan in unison, as you feel the heat of each other mix together. You look into each other’s eyes, forehead to forehead, panting from the feeling.

“That’s your problem. You think people are just being nice when really...” you lift your hips up, “...they want your huge, fucking cock.” You slam your hips against his.

His eyes squeeze shut as he dips his head back, feeling overstimulated by your walls that clench tightly around his girth. “I’m sorry, baby” he whimpers, resting his head into your bosom as he runs his fingers up and down your back.

“You better be, you little slut.” You whine on his knot while you breath into his ear, “make it up to me... and give me this fat knot of yours.”

Hearing these words drive him into a frenzy, fucking you erratically and moaning loudly. Just as you feel his cock heat up, trying to burrow it’s knot into your cunt, you grab his jaw and turn it towards the mangroves.

“Look at the audience while you cum inside your mate.” He looks through the cracks of the mangroves to see three, bulging, glowing pairs of blue eyes watching them.

He’s so deep into the thick, hazy fog that it turns him on even more to know that they’ve been watching him be dominated this entire time. He thrusts into you even harder, even deeper, showing them that you’re his. You lick his neck, holding his head in position while you ride out your oncoming orgasm, moaning in his ear.

“Knot me. Show them you’re mine.” You moan, feeling your cunt start to pulsate around his cock.

He’s panting, staring at the blue eyes that stare at back at him while he ruts into you relentlessly, listening to your loud moans in his ear.

“Oh – oh shit. F-fuck! Cumming. Cumming!” he lets out lengthy whines, driving his knot into your cunt, tying you two together.

You turn your head to the direction of their glowing eyes, and smile, planting wet kisses all over your mates face, as he gasps for air. “That’s a good boy. I hope you learnt your lesson. All of you.”

Photo creds: sberrymango (on insta)

#neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam smut #neteyam imagine #avatar #avatar smut #avatar x you #avatar way of water #metkayina #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam fic #neteyam x y/n

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softlyspector · 8 months

Text

strawberries

Summary: Ellie agrees to come over for dinner.

This can be read as a standalone, set after clouds Joel comes home to find you telling your daughter a bedtime story.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word count: ~2.4k

Warnings: set in the clouds universe but can be read alone, Joel and the reader have a daughter together, certified girl dad Joel Miller, allusions to events in tlou part 2, Joel is a sad old guy, Joel and Ellie are not on good terms

A/N: Hello. I'm back on my soft dad bullshit! This is a little longer than I intended it to be, but I'm used to writing 10-15k so I'll call this a win. Thanks for reading and let me know what you think!

Frost sparkles brightly in the front yard, diamonds and crystals, boundless, endless hills and valleys of it.

Joel is upstairs when the front door opens. Cold air rushes into the house, blisteringly, brutally cold, frozen drafts of it. He can feel it, even in Evie’s room.

His daughter gives an exaggerated, full body shiver and reaches chubby little hands up to him, fingers opening and closing in a silent request to be picked up.

He tucks Evie into his arms and bends without stooping over to grab her little blanket. It’s patterned with strawberries, vestiges of things from when she was a baby, a consolation prize to him that you’d traded for just days before Evie would be born.

It’s pink, the strawberries a bright, smiling red, pockets of green leaves and tiny, carefully stitched seeds. He had wanted to paint his spare bedroom pink when you were still pregnant, but you’d settled on sunshine yellow instead.

The pink, the strawberries, had reminded him of another little girl, another little pink blanket. It had been more than a gift for compromising on the color of the walls.

He hears you pad through the house to the entryway, soft footed and quiet as a mouse. “Hey, kiddo,” your voice drifts up the staircase, airy light and golden hued. “I’m really glad you decided to come.” After a moment you add, “Joel is, too.”

Joel buries his nose in Evie’s hair and she rewards him with a giggle at the scrape of his beard against her cheek. She sounds like sunshine, like a little trickster god that doesn’t ever feel the cold. He smiles and a tiny hand splays across his jaw.

Nerves beat anxiously against his lungs, leaving little plum colored bruises strung across his chest, his heart.

“Yeah,” Ellie answers from below, and her tone is uncomfortable but not hostile, not yet, not with you. The front door squeaks as it swings shut. “I almost brought Dina with me,” she admits with a slightly awkward laugh.

There’s a short silence, the shuffle of fabric. You’re hugging her, he knows you are, cheek pressed to her hair, arm around her shoulders.

“Next time,” you say, voice muffled and laughing bright, “bring Dina. We wouldn’t mind.”

“Ellie,” Evie says, her voice a little gasp. The tiny star of her hand disappears from Joel’s cheek. It leaves a cold spot on his skin. “Daddy,” She cranes in his arms, looking toward her bedroom door like she might catch a glimpse of Ellie if she looked hard enough. Joel presses a hand to her back to keep her in his arms when she tilts a little too far. “Ellie!”

The blanket slips down her shoulders when she bounces in excitement.

“Yep,” he says, readjusting the strawberries over her back. “Ellie’s here. Let’s go see her, baby.”

He carries Evie in his arms down the steps, and they creak the whole way. He keeps his hand protectively against her back and she leans her head against his shoulder, warm and heavy, thumb in her mouth.

The front door is shut but the entryway still feels cold. You and Ellie have relocated to the kitchen, puddles in the shapes of clouds crowded around the mat in front of the door, slush like mountainsides sliding glacially slow away from Ellie’s abandoned boots.

Light, bright and warm, floods the kitchen, spills through the archway he’s almost afraid to step through.

Your favorite album is playing over the stereo. The sound of your voice is low and peppered with love. “I miss having all of you together.” The low pulse of music is undercut by the sound of your knife rising and falling against a cutting board.

Ellie makes a discontent noise.

“I know. Trust me, I do,” you answer her, even though she didn’t say anything. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss it. That I don’t miss you.”

There’s a long silence. The song spins on, one of the slower tracks on the album. “I know,” she sighs eventually. “I know.”

Evie points one hand toward the kitchen but doesn’t lift her head from his shoulder. “Mama?” She murmurs against the collar of his shirt, around the thumb in her mouth.

“Mm. Mama’s waitin’ on us,” he steps into the light, crosses through the dining room, and into the bright x-ray of the kitchen light.

Eva squirms in his arms, wriggly and so strong, when she sees Ellie. Joel goes to one knee to set her feet firmly on the floor. The little pink blanket is left in his hand when she darts out of his grip.

She’s dexterous and wiley, and goddamn fast, for a three year old.

Sarah had been the same.

Ellie catches her on the other side of the kitchen and swings her up into her arms, smiling, poking her in the sides until she laughs and then shrieks.

It’s a violent reminder of the familiarity that his daughters have with each other, without him. There are things he’s not privy to anymore, not even in his own house, with his own family. Eva’s laughs fade into giggles and Ellie sways with her.

Ellie doesn’t look at him, doesn’t say anything at all.

Her face is sharper, the last of childhood roundness lost. She’s taller, thinner. She should eat more, and he’s glad she’s there for dinner. He’s glad she’s there at all. But he doesn't know how to say any of that.

“Howdy,” he settles for, hooking one thumb into his belt.

She looks slowly up, and nods. Her face goes tense as soon as she meets his eyes.

It’s better than looking like she might flee.

Neither of them say anything else and the air goes stiff with unspoken words, with the unresolved, unsaid past.

“Joel,” you touch his arm and smile softly at him when he looks at you. “Would you set the table, please?”

“Sure,” he agrees, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

You lean in and kiss his jaw. “Thank you.”

Setting the table gives him something to do. He goes back into the dining room with a stack of plates and cutlery, placemats rolled neatly on top of the pile. He drapes the strawberries over the back of one of the chairs.

When he unrolls the placemats, he huffs under his breath.

They’re fashioned from spare bolts of cloth, the stitching neat and even. Embroidered around the edges are little bats. Bats with cartoonish looking twin white fangs. You can’t stitch to save your life, so he knows you must have traded for them.

Or, more likely, someone gifted them to you, to Evie. Jackson as a whole adored Evie, adored her odd little quirks.

It grates on him sometimes, because it feels like a claim over his kid; and she’s not theirs, she’s his, she’s yours and Ellie’s.

But it must be some kind of miracle that Evie would grow up with such love from so many people, so he lets it go and lets it be.

Someone had once said to him, of her monster obsession, wait ‘til she sees one of the infected. She’ll probably fall in love.

It had been a joke, one he did not laugh at, one that made you tighten your hand on his forearm. But your teeth had been gritted too, your anger shimmering hot.

If Joel had it his way, Evie would never see one of those damn things. She’d never even need to know they existed.

Teaching Ellie how to navigate the world had been hard enough, had taken a toll he hadn’t expected. Teaching Eva one day would probably be the final nail in his coffin, the thing that made his heart squeeze just a little too tight.

A tiny body collides with his leg as he finishes setting out the bat laden placemats. “C’mere, you,” he lifts his baby into his arms and settles into one of the chairs.

She’s getting too big for him to carry, but he’ll do it as long as he can. The soft smell of her floats up, unlocks memories that still smart. “Look a’ that,” he points to the bats and gets a laugh in return, a little hand squishing the fabric up so she can drag it towards herself.

“Bats,” she says and tips her head back against his shoulder, the crown of her head nestled just below his chin.

The music spins on in the kitchen, accompanied now by the hiss of cooking, the light sound of chatter. You must say something funny, because Ellie suddenly bursts out in a laugh he hasn’t heard in so long it makes his chest clench.

“Mm,” Joel hums and straightens out the mat again. “Just for you, probably. Everybody in town knows how much you like bats.”

Eva just watches him, warm, soft hand landing on his cheek again, as it so often does.

Those big, knowing eyes are watching him. He cups one hand against the side of her head and leans down to kiss her forehead. “You gonna help?”

He sets her back down onto the floor, doles out the forks one at a time so she can bop around the table to each chair and lie it next to the plate. She doesn’t run, holds it just the way he’d told her to as he follows dutifully behind her. Just in case. “My smart girl,” he says when she’s finished with the last one and he’s set out the knives himself. “Gettin’ so big.”

Sometimes, when he looks at her, he sees vestiges of Sarah in her features. He blinks and it's gone and he tries to tell himself that there are no similarities between this girl and that one.

But there are. Of course, there are. They’re sisters, even if they’ll never meet. There are parts of Sarah in Eva, because there are parts of him in each of them, even if he doesn’t like to admit that.

“Daddy?”

“Evie?”

She giggles when he says her name. She’s in his arms again, warm and heavy. He can feel the hummingbird beat of her heart against his.

“Why don’t you like Ellie?” Each word is carefully said, the syllables wobbling around on her tongue. His smart girl, he thinks again. Too smart, too perceptive. Just like Ellie; no secrets, no lies.

She would be four in just a few short months.

Four. It’s not a big enough number; it’s too big of a number. He blinked and his baby was gone.

It’s how it always happens. Blink and they’re gone.

Something heavy drops into Joel’s chest. “I do,” he answers gruffly. Big eyes meet his, patiently waiting for more. The tilt of her brows, the pull of her little mouth, is all you. “I do,” he repeats. He wants to say he loves her, but he doesn’t.

She nods, so serious. “Me too,” she agrees, like she’s glad the matter has been cleared up.

When you all sit down to eat, Evie insists on sitting with Ellie. Joel tells her she doesn’t have to let her, and Ellie sharply says that it’s okay, it’s fine, they do it all the time.

He didn’t know that, so he just nods and says, “Okay.”

Mostly he listens to you and Ellie talk. You volley questions and chatter back and forth so naturally. He keeps quiet, because there’s something thick lodged in the back of his throat, because Ellie probably doesn’t want to hear anything he has to say anyhow, because she won’t want to answer any questions he might have.

Because he feels like he’s already too late.

But you ask a lot of the questions he would have, and Ellie pretends like she doesn’t know what you’re doing and answers them always, and that’s something at least. She talks a lot about patrol and a little about Dina, cheeks going pink when she does. She seems like she’s doing good, without him, and that’s all he can really ask for.

Ellie clears the plates away and laughs, just like he did, at the bats embroidered beneath. You produce something that passes for dessert, preserved strawberries from a jar in the cabinet, cream poured over top.

Evie falls asleep against Ellie and you take her gently into your arms.

And then it’s over, and it feels like no time has passed.

“Joel?” you say when Ellie is pulling on her coat. He looks at you and Ellie does too. “Why don’t you walk Ellie out?” You nod down at the sleeping toddler against your chest. “Please?”

“I don’t need - he doesn’t have to—”

“Joel?” You say over Ellie’s protest.

“‘Course.”

He walks Ellie to the front door, watches her pull on her shoes in record time, and then steps out onto the frostbitten porch with her. “Thanks for coming,” he says softly. “I appreciate it.”

She looks uncomfortable, hands balled inside her jacket. “I didn’t come for you.”

“I know you didn’t.” The yard glows in the dark, bright and spidery white. His breath clouds the air. “And I know you don’t wanna hear it. But I’m, uh, proud of you. Everyone says you’re doin’ real good.”

She looks like she might say something, mouth twisted down, brows pinched together. But she doesn’t. She keeps it inside and only nods.

“It was good,” he says after a moment when she doesn’t immediately bolt down the front steps, watching her from the corner of his eyes.

The tension between them eases just a little. “It was okay, old man,” she says and then seems to realize she slipped just a little. “See you around.”

“Yep,” he answers, but she’s already gone, down the steps, leaving footprints behind in his glittering front yard.

They haven’t talked about anything. But it’s something. It’s a little start.

You’re just leaving Eva’s room when he comes up the stairs. You carefully leave the door cracked, fingers of her night light reaching out into the dark hall.

He doesn’t realize he might be crying until you’re tucking your arms around him and making a gentle shushing sound. “It’s all right,” you whisper, arms curling around his shoulders. “C’mon. She’s still here. She wants to try.”

“I know.” His voice cracks right down the middle and he clears his throat before attempting the words again. “I know.”

“Okay,” you tug at his hair and pull back to look at him. “Let’s go to bed.”

But he's failing again. He's reaching for something he can't quite grasp, can't quite get to stick and stay and keep safe.

His heart beats hard, squeezes tight, like a cold fist has curled sharp nails into each pulse.

Too late, too late, too late, it says.

💞 Thank you for reading! Comments and feedback are so appreciated. 💞

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #clouds fic

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blushweddinggowns · 3 months

Text

His mind was such a mess, Eddie barely knew what he was thinking anymore. But he did know to be annoyed as fuck when his phone rang. He had kept the ringer on high, despite the fact that the only calls he got were from his inner circle asking what the hell was going on. He managed to ignore most of those. But on the off chance it was Chrissy stuck on her layover he didn’t want to miss it.

He didn’t bother checking who it was when he answered. He knew it wouldn’t be Steve.

“Hello?” Eddie mumbled into the receiver, “Chris?”

“That better mean Chrissy,” Someone huffed, “If you’re seeing someone else already I think that gives me a legal right to kill you.”

Eddie jolted up at the sound of Steve’s voice, “S-Steve?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” He sighed on the other end, sounding way too casual for someone who just turned Eddie’s world upside down, “So how has Europe been? Or was it California?”

Eddie cringed, at a loss for what to say. It wasn’t helping that his heart was nearly pounding out of his chest, “Oh. I-I didn’t- I mean- I’m sorry.”

Steve snorted on the other end, “Yeah, you are. No social media my ass.”

“It’s - I don’t usually use it that much?” Eddie stammered out, “It’s uh, mostly managed by a team but I have the password and - and this is not helping me at all. Is it?”

“No,” Steve agreed, “No, it’s not.”

“Steve I- I know I can’t say anything to fix this. But I-I didn’t want things to turn out like this. I get it, I’m an asshole but you weren’t a joke Steve. I’m the joke. I’m the idiot-you- I mean- I,” he was rambling, badly. Trying and failing to get everything out.

He had been too lost in the sauce of his own pity party to ever think about this point. Now he was blowing it.

Or so he thought.

Steve sighed again, “Okay, that’s enough of that. Come open the door. I’m outside.”

It took a second for that to compute, “Huh?”

“I’m outside of your door,” Steve said again, “Are you going to let me in or not?”

Holy shit. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

Eddie rushed to stand, almost instantly eating it when the blood didn’t catch up to his brain. He might have neglected a few bodily needs during the past few days. It just wasn’t enough to stop him from rushing to the door, knocking into every other thing on the way.

But what was a broken lamp and a few bruises compared to true love?

He wretched the door open, his phone still stupidly at his ear.

There Steve was, waiting for him. Eddie’s mind had decided to keep the idiot routine going because all he could really do was stare at him, at a total loss for what to do next.

Steve frowned at him, “Jesus, Eddie. You look… not good.”

“I know,” Eddie agreed, running a hand through his greasy hair. He hadn’t exactly been checking any mirrors but he could do the math. No showers, barely any sleep, constant crying. Now that he thought about it he’s pretty sure he hadn’t even changed since their fight. It was bad. Only made worse by the fact Steve was here to see it.

Steve was still frowning as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him to lean on.

They stared at each other while Eddie’s heart threatened to beat out of his chest. Is this what a heart attack fet like?

“I don’t really know what to do now,” Steve admitted after another beat of silence, “I kind of thought I would but… I don’t.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie tried, taking a cautious step forward. But Steve put a hand up, stopping him in his tracks.

He took a deep breathe, “Eddie, what I’m about to say isn’t to hurt you, okay? I’m not trying to make you feel bad.”

Eddie swallowed, his throat dry and his voice quiet when he answered, “Okay.”

“I think you should go take a shower,” Steve said gently, “Then we can talk.”

from the next chapter of this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #preview #i'm close y'all #I'm writing two different fic chapters at the same time like a dipshit #but i'm close with both of them #damn your love damn your lies

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ovaryacted · 2 months

Note

HI haii saw your post abt the subby leon in re2 having a mommy kink and i was thinking abt how id!leon would deny the fact that he has a mommy kink for you— he accidentally calls you ‘mommy’ throughout his orgasm😭😭😭 and when you ask abt it he just denies it or pretends like he didnt hear you nd you tease him about it and deny his orgasm till he admits he just called you mommy UHM hope ygwim - 🥯

MDNI/18+. NSFW. | wc: 1.5k words

Hey bagel anon! I didn’t even know there was a bagel emoji but welcome to the club. This idea though, yeah…you ate with this one. I also don’t how my answer got so long, but you’re one of the lucky few to get a full response out of me. I hope you like this cause I had fun writing this out. I may or may not expand on this in a full fic, but we’ll see.

ID! Leon gives me those vibes that he’ll accidentally gaslight himself and you if he lets the mommy word slip out and you ask him about it. He’s not rude when he does it, but his anxiety kicks in if he’s questioned about something he thinks you’ll reject him for.

You were too damn hot around him, clenching with every piston of his hips against you. He didn’t relent, gripping you with force and fucking you into the mattress. Reason left his mind a long time ago, slipping past the crevices of desire and melting away as your legs kept him caged between them.

He couldn’t think straight, groaning when his aching cock began to pulsate inside you, knowing he was about to reach his end. Your fingers pulled his hair back so you could take in his features, admiring how his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his nose scrunched up, strong forearms shaking when he struggled to keep himself upright above you.

An intense orgasm is all he needs to accidentally slip out the word Mommy, deep and guttural from his chest the moment he fills you up to the brim. Your release followed soon after, whimpering at the feel of his cum spilling into you as deep as he would go. He panted against your chest, offering you a kiss on the shoulder from the comedown.

You heard him, and he knows you heard him. But he wasn’t going to be the one to address it first, better yet he wasn’t going to address it at all. He paid it no mind, giving you light kisses on your neck and jaw before soft snores filled the bedroom, leaving the inevitable confrontation for another day.

Waking up in an empty bed, you head into the bathroom to freshen up before finding Leon in his usual place in the kitchen. He was busy drinking some coffee as he cooked breakfast, his hair still sticking up on the top of his head in a disheveled mess. His ears perked up at the sound of your footsteps, accepting your gentle kiss and going back to flipping his eggs. You let him be for a while, choosing to enjoy the silence and refusing to ruin it with questions and unwanted probing. Once you both sat down at the kitchen island, that’s when you took your chance.

“Leon…is there something you’re hiding from me?”, you started the conversation off with a question, hoping it would open up the floor for him to answer.

“No, I have nothing to hide. Besides, you’d probably know if I was”, he said with a shrug, taking a bite out of some toast and looking at you closely. If you couldn’t already tell, he was reading you, waiting for what you were going to say next.

“You called me something last night. You said Mommy and I heard you, you know I did”, your eyes challenged his, the tension in the room growing and his body stiffened ever so slightly. He tried to downplay it, but you knew it was a front.

“I didn’t say that, you misheard me sweetheart”, he throws in a term of endearment and a light chuckle to hide the truth, and from his body language, he wasn’t going to be receptive to your curiosity.

“Leon, it’s okay. I’m not j-”

“Let me refill your coffee”, he didn’t let you finish your sentence, taking your mug and walking over to the counter, fixing your drink the way you liked. You got the message after that, just to drop the topic entirely and pretend it never happened.

Only it continued to haunt you after that night. The word that fell from his lips replayed over and over in your mind, so much to the point that it was starting to give you a damn headache. He wasn’t going to admit the truth, you knew that, so you used the only tactic you thought would work. Rejection.

Folding the fresh laundry, you felt Leon press himself against you from behind, his nose rubbing against the back of your neck. You paid him no mind, refusing to give him the attention he craved, the same way you’ve been withholding that intimacy going on two weeks now.

“Are you mad at me or something?”, he asks behind you, growing antsy from the lack of reciprocation he’s been getting from you. You were still you, still did the things he loved and enjoyed. But for some reason, sex was just off the table and he didn’t know why.

“No, I’m not mad at you”, the least you could do was reassure him that there wasn’t something deliberately wrong in your relationship. Still, that wasn’t enough.

“Then why are you ignoring me? It feels like I did something to upset you”, he sounded like a child, whining from how you refused to touch him the way he wanted. You turned around and sighed, meeting his begging eyes and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Leon, you haven’t been honest with me recently, you know that”, you observed the way his eyebrow raised, silently asking you what you meant. “Mommy Leon? You should’ve just told me you had a mommy kink”

“I don’t have one…”, he mutters, still in denial and beating himself up knowing he let the damn word slip.

“Don’t lie to me”, your tone of voice was more forceful, and as much as Leon tried to think with his brain, all of the blood flowing through his body was rushing down south. You stepped closer to him, hearing his sudden intake of breath at your proximity.

“Just tell me the truth baby, that’s all you need to do”, you were toying with him, that he knew, and a part of him was conflicted in not knowing what was the best approach. For the first time, Leon couldn’t read you, couldn’t get your angle or predict any possible outcomes.

All those years of learning how to read situations proved futile when it came to you.

“I don’t…don’t know what you’re talking about…”, his voice was shaky now, his heart pounding the closer you got. You placed a hand on his firm chest, caressing him before trailing your fingers down his abdomen and towards his hips.

“You do know. Be a good boy for mommy and tell me what you want”

He didn’t know what had gotten into you, hell you didn’t either. Over the past few weeks you’ve been avoiding him and not fucking him, you’ve found yourself scrolling through porn sites in incognito mode. You called it “conducting research”, typing in mommy kink, and going through a whole rabbit hole to learn more about femdom and the works. Watching so many videos with appealing and borderline strange titles at times changed the way you thought about sex, at least with your boyfriend.

You weren’t expecting to like it so much, didn’t know that finding the idea of making him submit like that would make your panties wet. Going so long without his touch only made you want this to play out even more, so you raised the stakes. Coming closer to him, you cupped the growing bulge in his pants, rubbing over it and grinning as you felt him twitch.

“Don’t be shy baby, you can tell me. You want to play with mommy?” Leon whimpered, the sound making you wetter than before. Leon’s eyes met yours again, a faint blush on his cheeks and growing more aroused with every passing second.

“Yes…”, he mumbled his response, fighting to close his eyes but you held his chin up with the tip of your finger.

“Yes what?”, you were ordering him, reveling in the way Leon’s resolve crumbled right in front of you, accepting his defeat.

“Yes mommy. Fuck, I wanna play so bad”, he was already so pliable, bending to your will and pleading for more. You gave him a light kiss, pulling away before you could indulge him further. He grew harder under your palm, the material of his jeans rubbing into him so deliciously it made his head fuzzy.

“C’mon baby, you gotta make up for keeping your little secret from me. Mommy’s not happy”, you pulled him forward by one of his belt loops, guiding him towards the bedroom already knowing you’re both in for a fun afternoon. If Leon didn’t have heart eyes before, he certainly had them now.

“Anything for you mommy”

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #sub leon kennedy smut #sub leon kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #ovaryacted asks #₊˚⊹ ♡ ─ bagel anon 🥯#ovaryacted drabbles

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neuvistar · 10 months

Text

i present to uu… a kim dokja mini thirst cuz i need him so bad! ++ think of this as a filler, cuz i feel the need to write something after all the requests drowning in my drafts soooyes! i don’t like keeping u all waiting so here’s a lil filler <3

for warnings ! suggestive, dokja x afab reader but i didn’t rlly specify their gender, this is so messy n all over the place i’m sorry this isn’t the best, uhmmm dokja being such a sweetheart mhm mhm mhm, vaginal sex, kim dokja is good w his fingers foreals, some use of nicknames overall suggestive content !! | 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“can i give you a kiss..?” was all dokja asked. you could’ve sworn you heard a quiet “please?” afterwards, but maybe that was just your mind playing tricks on you. dokja felt his face get warmer and warmer by the second, his heart racing as he could almost feel it pounding through his chest with how close his body was to yours. swallowing a lump in his throat, his thumb drew small circles on the flesh of your hips, eyes filled with desperation and plain lust. for you.

“mm.. of course you can, pretty”

he didn’t expect you to agree so easily. your response made his face flush even farther, dokja’s pupils dilated as he leaned in.. his arm on your waist. he pressed his lips against your own, kissing you deeply yet so passionately. how can someone’s kiss be so dirty but so gentle? his eyes fluttered shut as he held it in for as long as he could.. allowing his body to do all the talking before gently placing his hand the back of your neck to keep you still on his lap, oh yeah.. you’re not going anywhere anytime soon. dokja’s kisses were absolutely deadly, that’s why you loved them. he always took his sweet time with you, holding you ever-so gently as if you were a feather. kim dokja couldn’t keep his hands off of you either as his fingers travelling underneath your shirt, pinching your sensitive nipples.

“mmf!— s’pretty dokja..”

he planted chaste kisses against the base of your neck, watching your body jolt at the sudden contact as he chuckled against your skin. “you’re prettier.” he murmured in your ear. “you’re really pretty.”

“all for you.”

you began to grind your wet heat against his thighs, licking your lips. fuck, he wanted you so bad. and you grinding and pressing your pretty pussy against his thighs wasn’t helping. not at all. dokja bucked his hips against yours, you knew dokja.. he wasn’t just gonna turn down your desires. his lips latched onto yours again. “y—you’re too pretty babe, it’s almost hard to resist you.” he admitted, pressing soft kiss on your cheek before gesturing you keep going, rubbing yourself against his thigh at a quicker pace. dokja’s fingers shook as he struggled to hold hold himself back, trying his absolute hardest to fight his urges.. his urges to pick you up and bend you over over the table and fuck you like it was his last day on earth. he can’t do that, no. not yet. dokja pulls your shorts and panties aside, not waiting any longer as he sinks his slender fingers inside your drooling cunt, thrusting them into the sweetest spots of your walls. he curled his fingers inside you, you came almost immediately on his digits because of how well he was hitting your areas, pumping them slightly faster now. the lewd sounds of squelching was all that could be heard, mixing in with the whimpers and whines that left your pretty lips.

“dokja..” your boyfriend pressed his thumb against your clit, body shuddering as you moaned his name, tightening your grip on his clothes. you could tell dokja was slowly losing control of himself, fingers tugging at your nipples roughly. he began hastily undoing his belt, easing the discomfort of his erected cock as he aligned himself with your entrance, bucking his hips against yours almost immediately. your mouth hung open, throwing your head back at how full you already felt, yet he hasn’t even fit half of his length inside! “dokja!”

he felt so so good, you felt so full.. his cock sliding in and out of you so easily like that.. he knew just how well he could fuck you, he knew no one else could fuck you like he could. he knew that so so well. he grew more desperate for you, savouring the feeling of you clenching and pulsing around his dick every single time he hit a good spot. your body squirmed under his touch, eyes rolled to the back of your head at how harsh his thrusts were, your juices painting his dick with a creamy halo of white. “please.. please ah—“ he whined, lifting your waist. dokja held you in place, his thrusts grew harsher as he practically slammed himself inside your cunt. your moans gradually got louder, almost too loud.

a hand slapped over your mouth instinctively, mewling loudly as your fingers gripped harder at the softness of his coat, “f—fuck.. i think I'm stretching you out quite the bit right at this angle, h-hm?” he couldn’t stop his thrusts no matter how hard he tried, dokja shuddered as your soft lips touched him. your kisses felt like fire spreading across his skin. it felt heavenly to him, he couldn’t get enough of you. “you feel so good,” *he whispered between kisses, “more.. more please. i need more of you, i-i—“

in a blink of an eye, your back was pressed against the wall.. dokja’s arms hooked under your knees as he held you up, slowly setting you down on his cock, rubbing against your wet slit from time to time. “give me more.. please. ‘want you so bad already.. let me— fuck.. i wanna feel you even more.. please!”

special tag 4 my bff @yanqingisim

#ᖭི༏ᖫྀ maryse’s diary ૮꒰˶˃̵ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა #ᖭི༏ᖫྀ thirsts ૮꒰ᐡ ɞ̴̶̷ ̫ ᴗ̤ ᐡ꒱ა #dokja <33 #dokja x reader #orv kim dokja #orv x reader #kim dokja x reader #omniscient readers viewpoint smut #orv kdj #dokja smut #omniscient reader's viewpoint #omniscient reader smut #when u gonna let me fuckkk kim dokja

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bruisedboys · 1 year

Note

SIRIUS BLACK THOUGHTS??? YES.

sirius black who takes care of his shy! gf when she’s ill even though she keeps saying she’s isn’t cause she doesn’t wanna be a bother. he would be so doting and not letting her move an inch once he finally gets her to admit she isn’t feeling well.

hi yes I adore this idea tysm. doting sirius x shy!reader is my weakness fr

gn!reader 0.7k words

Sirius smooths his hand over the side of your head where you’re laying in his lap, his other hand set on your back between your shoulder blades. You’ve gone quiet, which normally wouldn’t worry him, you’re always quiet, but right now you’re quieter than quiet.

Sirius can feel your tense shoulders, your refusal to relax. Something’s eating you up. Sirius reckons it’s his job to find out what that something is.

“Y/N, honey?”

You make a noise like a tired hum. It’s adorable. Sirius thinks his heart falls out of his chest. He presses his hand to your back, an anchor in case you need it.

“Are you okay? You’re quiet.”

You huff and shift in his lap to look up at him. You look exhausted, but still pretty as ever.

“I’m always quiet,” you say, your voice tired and raspy, your tone much too close to self-deprecating for Sirius’s liking.

He shakes his head. “S’not what I meant,” he says, though he thinks you know that.

Sirius waits. And waits some more. When you don’t say anything he sits you up so he can look at you, hoping to read your features and figure you out. Only, when he grips your shoulders to pull you upright his fingers brush your neck and he almost gasps out loud. Your skin is scalding.

“Baby,” he says gently, helping you into a sitting position. He keeps one hand on your shoulder and presses the other to your forehead. It’s just as hot as the rest of your face. “You’re hot as a furnace. Are you feeling sick?”

Your eyebrows pinch together and you bite your lip like you always do when you’re nervous.

“A bit,” you say weakly, staring at a point over Sirius’s shoulder.

Sirius thinks you’re lying. He doesn’t say so, because he’s currently feeling very sorry for you.

“Yeah?” He asks softly, quietly. He brings his hand to your jaw, drags his thumb over your cheekbone. “Is it a headache? Sore throat?”

You shrug and your eyes droop and your head grows heavier in Sirius’s hand. “Just sore,” you say, so quiet it’s almost a whisper. “All over.”

Sirius thinks he might burst into tears, but that wouldn’t be very helpful. He opts for a hug, sliding his hand to the back of your head so he can press your face to his chest. You sigh, and it’s a tiny noise and barely there but it makes Sirius’s heart do a backflip anyway. He rubs your back with his free hand, smoothing lines into your shirt.

“M’sorry you’re feeling sick, darling,” he says, ducking his head so his mouth ghosts over the shell of your ear. “Do you feel like having a bath? Or do you just wanna go to bed?”

You shift so your cheek is pressed to Sirius’s chest, right over his heart. “Bath would be nice,” you mumble.

Sirius helps you up, not that you need it but he finds he suddenly wants to do everything for you. He sits you on the lid of the toilet, turns the bath taps on and grabs a clean towel from the cupboard.

Meanwhile, you’re half asleep and struggling to keep your head up. Sirius’s heart pangs and he’s quick to cross the bathroom to take your face in his hands.

“Darling,” he says gently, hoping his abnormally cold hands feel good on your hot, hot skin. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

You hum, lift your heavy head to meet his eyes. Yours are glassy, tired, and so so pretty. Sirius blinks. It’s bizzare, how pretty you are even when you’re feeling so horrible.

“Yeah,” you say, voice raspy. “But, um. Can you help me?”

Sirius nods vehemently. “Yeah, of course, sweetheart.”

He helps you out of your clothes, strips you down til you’re bare. It’s a miracle how not shy you are about it all. Sirius thinks maybe you’re feeling so sick that you can’t find it in you to care. Still, he tries his best to keep his eyes on your face the whole time. He’s nothing if not a gentleman.

He helps you into the tub, sits on the tiles next to the bath and holds your hand once you’re comfortable.

“S’the temperature okay?” He asks you, ever the worry-wart when it comes to you. He’d checked the temperature three times.

“Mmm,” you hum, eyes closed. A whisper of a smile graces your lips. “Perfect.”

“You’re perfect,” Sirius says, unable to help himself.

You groan and lift your free hand out of the warm water to cover your eyes. Sirius grins. There’s the shyness he knows and loves.

#UNSURE ABOUT HIS CHARACTERISATION IN THIS BUT ITS THE BEST I COULD DO #★ mal writes!#ღ sirius #sirius black x reader fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fic #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black drabble #sirius black blurb #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black x gn!reader #✉️

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its-all-stardust · 30 days

Text

Sugar || 7

Masterlist || Part Six

Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader

Word count: 5.8k

Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.

You open your eyes to morning sunlight streaming through the window and an empty bed. Currently, that’s the norm for you and isn’t unusual. But you distinctly remember Steven crawling into bed with you last night.

There haven’t been any more disappearing acts since the first night he stayed at your apartment, but it’s the first thing on your mind when he isn’t beside you.

Maybe he went back to his room.

Maybe he’s in the bathroom.

Maybe it means nothing. You’re in a foreign country, after all; Steven doesn’t exactly have anywhere to go.

You close your eyes and try to relax, but now you’re just thinking of him having another sleepwalking episode and all the places he could get lost in an unfamiliar country. With that thought in your head, you rip off the sheets and jump out of bed, needing to find Steven and know he’s okay. You don’t care that he’s not in bed with you so long as he’s still here.

The bedrooms and bathrooms are empty.

Notably, Steven’s bed doesn’t look like it’s been touched.

You glance at the living room—still no Steven—and are about to rush toward the door to check the locks when you hear something behind you.

“Oh no. I wanted to wake you,” Steven pouts.

You quickly spin around and find him standing in the doorway to the terrace.

“W-what?” you sputter as you stare, confused.

“I was going to wake you for breakfast.” Steven gestures through the doorway toward the table that is absolutely overflowing with food. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Your shoulders relax, tension flowing out of you. Your heart is steadily slowing down. “Oh, Steven…”

“Are you alright?” he asks, stepping toward you. “You looked scared there for a second.”

You almost feel silly for being so worried. “It’s nothing.” You give a placating smile. “Let me wash my face, and I’ll be right back out.”

Steven’s hand is on your arm before you can step away.

“Talk to me. Please?” Steven asks softly, eyes full of concern.

It’s a strange feeling having your baby ask after you out of genuine concern. It’s not like the others were cold or particularly distant, but most understood the business arrangement…differently than Steven.

He says your name.

“I thought…you might have had another blackout. I was worried when you weren’t in bed,” you finally admit. You usually don’t share your worries with your babies, no matter what they are. You want them to see you as steadfast and confident. Unafraid.

But ever since the start, everything has been different with Steven.

He pulls you to him, his arms wrapping tightly around you. His lips brush against your temple. “I’m so sorry, love. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

Your arms slowly wrap around Steven. You don’t think you’ve ever experienced a role reversal like this. Typically, you’re the one comforting someone, be it friends or family, or babies. You tend to keep things close to your chest and worry over others more than you should. You’re not sure what to make of this.

You love taking care of your babies. It’s the main reason you keep having them. But this—Steven’s arms around you, trying to protect you from your worries—is nice too.

Finally, you settle into him with a sigh. “Don’t take this to mean you shouldn’t tell me if it happens again,” you insist, having a feeling Steven might try to pull something like that.

He pulls away from you enough to look you in the eye. “No secrets, yeah?”

You blink at him, stunned. Something else that’s new for you. A new kind of worry tries to bubble up within you, but you push it down and ignore it.

“No secrets,” you repeat softly.

When he kisses you, you forget how to breathe. Then he guides you onto the terrace, pulls out a chair for you, and starts filling your plate.

As you look at Steven across the table over breakfast, you can’t help but think how lucky you are to have him, to have met him.

An unfamiliar warmth spreads through your chest. Similar to what you’ve felt for him before but…different. You don’t think about what it means.

“What are we doing today?” Steven asks after breakfast, once you’re both ready for the day. He looks you up and down, likely noting that you’re not as made up as you usually are.

“I guess you were half asleep when I mentioned a spa day last night,” you tease.

“What? No! I remember everything you say,” Steven insists dramatically, hand on his heart.

“So you remember how I said how much I wanted to visit the casino before we go back home?” You raise an eyebrow, carefully watching his face for a reaction.

“A-Absolutely, I do,” Steven answers, though his brow is furrowed, confused.

“You liar!” you cry, walking over to poke Steven in the stomach, a grin on your face. “I never said anything like that. It’s like you don’t even know me.”

Steven jumps back, raising his arms to defend himself. “Okay, now that makes more sense. I’m sorry, love.”

You stop your assault and wrap your arms around him instead. “You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. Besides, I don’t think I could ever be mad at you.”

Steven looks at you adoringly. “How did I get so lucky?” he asks softly, more to himself than to you.

“Just by being you,” you answer anyway.

Steven looks away, bashful. “I’m nothing special.”

Taking his chin in one hand, you turn his face back toward you. “Now that’s just not true. Haven’t I taught you better than that?” you lightly scold. There’s no real heat to your words, but you’ve been trying to build up Steven’s self-worth for months.

You pause, thinking for a second. “Do you not believe me because I’m paying you?”

You don’t mean for the words to come out sounding so vulnerable, but they do. It saddens you a little to think that Steven might not be taking your words to heart.

You enjoy it when you get complimented like that, especially since it’s so rare for it to happen because of your professional and financial position and…lack of many close relationships. However sincere you are, you suppose you can understand why Steven would hesitate to believe you.

“No!” Steven argues. “It’s not that I think less of you because of our…relationship. It’s just…” he pauses, taking a breath. “I’m not like you. I’ve never done anything half as remarkable as you. Never started my own company. Never made a vast fortune. I’m just…me. Nothing exciting ever happened to me before I met you.”

That, at least, eases your worries about Steven having doubts about you. You don’t like the way he’s talking, though.

“You don’t have to have changed the world or been on exciting adventures to be remarkable. I like you exactly as you are. And there’s absolutely nothing ‘just’ about Steven Grant.”

Steven’s grip tightens around your waist, and his throat bobs, holding something back.

“Do I need to make you repeat how special you are again?”

He shakes his head, giving you a soft smile. “No.”

Then he’s kissing you, slow and gentle but filled with a seemingly newfound passion. One hand trails up your back, pressing you into Steven’s chest before it stops at the nape of your neck, holding you in place.

Your sense of balance shifts, and you realize Steven is tipping you back slightly. Though you trust he’d never let you fall, you cling to him. In a way, Steven has you trapped, held so tightly you can’t escape if you wanted to.

But you never want to.

If Steven wants to kiss you like this, leaving you utterly breathless for the rest of eternity, you’ll let him.

It occurs to you, then, that you might be a little fucked.

You’ve never seen Steven anything but fully clothed before. He’s never asked or even hinted that he wanted anything else, and you’re more than happy to respect his boundaries. It’s as you said when you explained everything to him in the beginning: you’re not going to force him to do anything and he has to be the one to initiate new interactions.

That is to say, you can’t help but stare at Steven, clad only in the swim trunks you bought for him before the trip. You’ve seen half-dressed men before. Hell, you’ve seen completely naked men before. But the first time seeing an inch of skin of a new partner always excites you.

The two of you had made it to the thermal baths, just a short trip from the hotel. The natural heat of the water was soothing after the brisk morning air, but it was nothing compared to the heat in your face when you saw Steven step out of the changing room.

“And what you are you looking at?” Steven teases. He knows fully well what you’re staring at based on his smirk. You’re not exactly hiding it.

“Just admiring how handsome my baby is and watching the water glisten on his skin.” Steven flushes at that, even though he initiated it. What was he expecting? All you have for him are compliments. Even still, he is stunned by your boldness. You weren’t lying either; untrue flattery never sat right with you.

You’ve held Steven enough times to know he wasn’t exactly hiding much softness under his baggy clothes, but it was still a bit of a surprise to see the bit of defined muscle of his torso and arms. His stomach isn’t overly defined, but you know that cultivated abs are more for aesthetics than strength. You’ve no doubt that Steven is physically stronger than people would guess at first glance, especially when he’s done up as a gift shop clerk.

“If anything, I should be admiring you, not the other way around,” Steven says, cheeks still red.

“Steven, have you been staring at me?” You bring your arms across your chest, acting scandalized.

Steven sputters and averts his eyes even though you’re perfectly decent. “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”

You float closer to him, careful not to touch him. It would be very bad for you if you did. “Do you like looking at me?”

“Of course I do,” Steven says softly, eyes returning to you, drifting over your form. “You’re beautiful.”

You tell yourself the heat in your cheeks is from the water. It’s always been from the water.

Even though you know you probably shouldn’t, you quietly ask, “Do you like it when I look at you?”

You can’t take your eyes off Steven; at your words, you see his pupils dilate ever so slightly. He nods, lips parted.

“Say it,” you order. You lift one hand, trailing your fingers down Steven’s arm and making him shiver despite the heat engulfing him. You’re treading into dangerous territory. But you can’t help it, and Steven appears…very receptive.

“Yes,” he answers automatically, his eyes never leaving yours.

You drift closer still, now chest to chest, with only a handspan separating you. Your eyes fall to his mouth, your own parting when you catch his tongue quickly darting out to wet his lips.

A splash behind you startles you, sending you surging forward straight into Steven’s chest. His arms automatically raise to hold you, hands resting respectfully on your back, just under your shoulder blades. Suddenly, you’re reminded of where you are: in a public bath, surrounded by people. This is the last place you should be having…thoughts about your baby, who has, so far, expressed zero interest in a more physical relationship.

Even though you’ve had Steven in your arms countless times, it feels different now, with so little fabric separating you from his bare chest. You quickly move away, though you grab his hand as you always do. Even with the heat of the water, he feels different.

Is he warmer than usual?

“Let’s go over here,” you say, shaking the thought from your head and needing to separate yourself from the moment. “There’s fewer people. We should be able to enjoy the water more.”

You start dragging Steven behind you, and he follows along without argument or any words, for that matter. You’re not sure what he’s thinking; you can’t look him in the eye quite yet.

You manage to control yourself and your thoughts enough to enjoy that water. It’s not a regular pool, so there’s no playing or splashing around. Swimming is minimal as the water is only about waist high for the average person.

People are meant to relax in the waters and have a therapeutic experience while the minerals in the water soak into and rejuvenate the skin.

You and Steven sit on one side of the large pool, taking advantage of the built-in underwater ledge that surrounds the entirety of the curved edges. This particular pool is outside, so the two of you are able to enjoy the scenic views that were carefully curated so as not to ruin patrons’ sightlines with modern buildings.

You manage to not think about your hands on Steven’s bare chest.

Eventually, once your skin is primed and supple, you leave the thermal baths to go to your next destination: the spa. Specifically for a couple’s massage and then later a facial for you.

The only thing separating a couple’s massage from a solo one is the simple fact you’re in the same room as your partner. Even more intimate than being in swimming attire together, you’ll be partially undressed, a towel covering your lower half. Granted, you’ll be face down on a table the entire time, but still.

“We don’t have to do it together,” you say when you explain the procedure to Steven. Your appointment is at the hotel’s on-site spa, so you technically don’t have to undress around each other; you get ready in separate bedrooms and just wear your robes down to the spa.

You don’t have an issue being unclothed around your babies. Nudity isn’t inherently sexual, and you don’t consider this a sexual situation. You’re here to relax while a stranger eases the semi-permanent tension from your muscles.

But that’s your perspective, which doesn’t mean it aligns with Steven’s.

“We can always do separate rooms,” you continue, wanting to give Steven every out. Since your relationship hasn’t progressed past kissing, you’re unsure what his feelings will be. Yes, he admitted to staring at you in the pool, but you were still covered then.

“I want to be with you,” he insists. “I’m fine, I swear.” He doesn’t look at you, and his voice is slightly higher pitched than usual. He’s nervous at the very least, but if he says he’s fine, you won’t argue. He’s more than capable of making decisions for himself.

When the two of you are led to the massage room, you purposefully keep your back to Steven as much as possible as you disrobe. Even without the robe, neither of you is completely naked, still having some sort of bottom on. But you have no desire to make Steven uncomfortable with your casual nakedness.

Will he still try to look, though?

A little excited, you crawl onto the table and glance at Steven from the corner of your eye.

You fight the frown that attempts to form when you see he’s already on his table, face carefully set in the opening at the top and arms obediently at his sides.

Then there’s a knock on the door, and you have no choice but to lie down.

“Do you get massages often?” Steven asks you as the masseuses begin. You’ve been together for months, but this could just be something that hasn’t been brought up before.

“Not as often as I would like,” you sigh as your masseuse works out a particularly stubborn knot from your shoulder. “I feel like I never have the time, so I always book one whenever I go on a trip. Have you ever had one?”

“No,” Steven manages before letting out a satisfied groan.

What part gets him to make that sound?

“Sorry,” he says, and you think he’s apologizing to his masseuse. “More tense than I thought.”

After a moment and another unexpectedly pleased sound from Steven, he addresses you. “You know, love, you could—” He abruptly cuts himself off, the airy tone to his voice suddenly gone, as if he’s coming back to himself.

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t, and with your head down and forced to look at the floor, you’re unable to read his body language.

“I could what?” you prompt, confused.

“It’s nothing.” The answer comes quickly.

You almost ask if he’s sure, try to encourage him to finish his thought, but as hands glide over your back, you change your mind. It’s possible that whatever Steven meant to say is for your ears only.

The rest of the appointment passes in relative silence with only a pleased sigh from you here and there. You keep your ears open, hoping for something else from Steven, but he doesn’t let out another sound.

In other situations, that just wouldn’t do.

Stop it.

You would shake yourself if you could.

Once the massage is over, your mind buzzes more than it usually does after what is supposed to be a relaxing session. Steven is constantly bouncing around your mind today, and a part of you knows that isn’t necessarily a good thing.

You want to scold yourself for your mild obsession with your baby. One-sided attachments that go too deep always end badly.

But is it one-sided? He wants you to meet his mother, after all.

“Love?” Steven calls, pulling you from your thoughts. You’ve been standing with your back to him, staring off into the distance since you got off the table.

“Sorry, just thinking,” you say, finally turning to face him. Your eyes immediately lock onto his swollen lower lip. Reaching up, you run your thumb along it. It’s flushed red and has definitely been bitten. “I know I didn’t do that.” You look at him, eyebrow raised.

Steven flushes, his cheeks matching his lip. “I was trying to be quiet,” he answers softly. Likely embarrassed by the sounds he was making, you muse.

“You poor thing.” You keep rubbing your thumb along his lips. Then, as if hypnotized, you can’t think of anything else besides kissing him.

So you do.

You aim only for his lower lip, pressing gently against it as if to soothe a hurt.

“All better?” you ask when you pull away.

Steven nods, and your hand falls from his face to land on his chest, where you bury it in the fluffy fabric.

“I have my facial next. Do you want to try one?” You’re genuinely curious. Maybe he wants to get into skincare. Your eyes scan his face, pinpointing potential treatment areas.

“I’m not sure that’s for me,” Steven says, taking your free hand and leading you toward the door.

“Okay. Are you going to relax in the room then?”

“I dunno. Maybe I’ll do a little shopping while you’re busy.”

“Make sure to buy yourself something pretty,” you say as you and Steven are about to part ways. He smiles at you, squeezing your hand before leaving.

“Today wasn’t too boring for you, was it?” you ask Steven. Now after dinner, the two of you are in your usual place: lounging on the couch.

Even though you plan these vacations based on your preferences, you still want your babies to have fun. Steven enjoyed the park and the impromptu visit to the bookshop yesterday, but some men would rather be caught dead than go on a spa trip.

It may be the standard that sugar babies create a character that’ll please their mommy or daddy rather than be their true selves one hundred percent of the time, but you want Steven in particular to be entirely honest with you.

“Not at all! I don’t think I’ve ever been so relaxed, to be honest,” Steven answers. He’s at one end of the couch while you’re at the other, both of your legs up on the cushions and tangled together. He knocks one foot into your tight. “I would have told you before we did anything if I wasn’t interested.”

He did bow out of getting a facial, but that was almost a given. It would have been more surprising if he had said yes. A baby lying about certain things is expected. They do what they have to in order to keep their jobs.

“Are you sure? Because aside from today, you’ve never told me no before.” You never questioned it, but now you can’t help but think there’s a chance you’ve misread something or done something wrong.

Before you had money, finding people interested in the same things as you or doing certain activities you favored was few and far between. Making and maintaining friends can be a difficult endeavor. And now that you do have money, anyone new in your life is expecting more higher-class activities than walking through a park. Sure, that park may be in Germany across from a very nice hotel, but it’s still a park, and finding amiable friends is even harder now.

Steven laughs. “Alright, if you really want, I’ll get a facial.” You smile at his teasing, but he must see something in your expression. “I always say yes because I like spending time with you. I like the things we do together. You once said you’d never make me do anything I was uncomfortable with, and you never have.”

He then untangles his legs from yours and gets off the couch, only to step toward you and sit by your hip on the edge of your cushion. He takes your hands in his. “I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy as I am when I’m with you. And just because you pay me,” he says it flippantly, like it doesn’t matter at all. Like it isn’t why he’s doing this. “Doesn’t mean I’d let you walk all over me.”

“What about Donna?” you can’t help but ask. Steven’s words are sweet; they make your heart race, but you find them hard to believe.

Steven fumbles a bit but quickly says, “That’s completely different. Technically, she doesn’t pay me. Not to mention, everyone knows I don’t like Donna. And…”

He goes quiet, his eyes wandering down your face.

“And?” you ask breathlessly, needing him to keep talking despite your skepticism.

“And I definitely don’t want to kiss her.”

Heat flashes through you as Steven takes your face in his hands and leans into you. His lips meet yours, soft but urgent as if he could kiss the doubt from you.

And it works. For now.

You reach up, fisting your hands into his shirt to keep him close. You stay like that for a while, Steven wanting to thoroughly assure you of his honest honesty, his affection.

When you finally part, Steven staying at your side, you’re able to ask the question that’s been plaguing you for hours.

“What were you going to say during the massage?”

Steven freezes for a moment, caught off-guard. Then his face immediately starts to flush, exciting you. His hands are no longer on your face, instead resting in his lap. You reach out and rest one hand on his, patiently waiting for him to work up the nerve.

“It can’t be that bad,” you encourage. “You almost let it slip earlier.”

“It’s inappropriate,” he mumbles, suddenly shy as if he hadn’t just been making out with you.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Steven takes a breath, steadying himself. “You know…you could give me a massage anytime.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow, trying to ignore the electricity dancing along your skin. He’s gotten better about asking you for things, with the exception of more intimate touches.

“I just think…” he hesitates but finally meets your eyes, his pupils dilated. “It’s something a good mummy would do.”

“That’s not inappropriate at all,” you purr as you start running your hand up Steven’s arm. “But what about the other way around? Wouldn’t a good baby want to give his mommy a massage?”

“We can do that too,” he agrees eagerly. He’s starting to get jittery now that he knows you’re receptive. “I’m fine with either.”

“Good to know,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him. Your hand stops on his bicep, and you squeeze, feeling the muscle hidden underneath his shirt. You can’t wait to get your hands on him properly, especially after what brushing against him in the baths did to you. “It’ll have to wait until we get home, though.”

Your hand drops from Steven, and you fall back into the arm of the couch.

“W-what? Why? Steven practically whines, and a grin blooms across your face. You can’t contain it; you don’t want to.

You don’t say anything at first, instead looking your baby up and down as he squirms.

“It’ll be something to look forward to. And it’ll give me a reason to not keep you here all to myself.”

You lean forward, your lips finding Steven’s neck in a fleeting kiss. He shivers under your touch.

“That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” he asks breathlessly, his eyes blown black.

“Not at all,” you agree and kiss him again.

You said nothing when, after getting ready for bed, you walked out of the ensuite bathroom and saw Steven in your bed. He had the sheets pulled up to his chin, watching you, waiting. He said nothing as you crawled into what had been designated as your side of the bed.

Before settling down, you gave Steven a chaste kiss on the cheek and said, “Night, Steven.”

He wished you a good night with a smile and a soft murmur of your name. You both fell asleep soon after.

Depending on the time of night, on how long you’ve been asleep, you’re not the lightest of sleepers. Random sounds throughout the night hardly ever wake you, but tonight, something does.

Eyes bleary with sleep and mind still foggy, you don’t realize what you see at first.

A dark shape standing by the window on the other side of the room. Rumblings that start as nothing but turn into…arguing?

Then you notice the empty side of the bed, sheets barely disturbed as if they were moved back into place. You start gaining clarity.

“Steven?” you call, your voice scratchy. “What are you doing?”

You don’t know what time it is, but surely it’s late.

Steven immediately stops talking. He turns away from the window and walks back to the bed, his movements somewhat stiff.

When he gets in, he doesn’t inch his way closer like he did before. Instead, Steven seems to be staying as far away as possible.

“Go back to sleep. Everything is fine,” he says softly.

You don’t argue. Your eyes were already half closed as soon as he touched the sheets. It registers for a brief moment that something about Steven’s voice sounds…off, but you fall asleep before you can think about what it means.

“What were you doing last night? By the window?” you ask in the morning over breakfast.

“Pardon?” Steven asks, lifting his fork to his mouth.

“I woke up, and you were just standing by the window. I hear you talking. Was it your mom?”

Steven only looks confused, but then understanding and dread wash over you both.

Steven’s fork falls onto his plate with a clatter as he covers his face with both hands.

“It happened again,” he quietly cries. You rush to his side, pulling him to you.

“It wasn’t so bad. You answered when I called, and I don’t think you even left the room,” you try to reassure him.

Steven’s arms slide around your waist as he buries his face in your stomach. “What if it’s worse next time? The first time it happened, I wandered the city! I don’t remember anything that happened last night. And you said I was talking? To who? About what?”

He smothers a distressed sound against you.

“I don’t know, but you seemed to know who I was and where you were—enough to know to get into bed, at least.” You don’t think your words comfort him. One hand moves to brush through his curls. “We’ll figure this out. I promise,” you say with a confidence you don’t quite feel.

The morning’s revelation sours the mood for the remaining day of your vacation. Steven tries to remain in good spirits, but his worry about his sleepwalking hangs like a cloud over his head.

Though he loved everywhere else you had taken him, the tour of the ruins of a once great castle didn’t seem to hold his interest as much, try as he might to absorb the history the guide was providing and taking more photos.

The trip to the airport is silent. You’ve never been good at comforting people, often unable to find the words. You don’t know what else to say to Steven other than what you already have. What you can do, though, is be there for him.

For what you lack in words, you make up for in other ways. Making sure he ate, packing his things for him, holding his hand, and refusing to let go.

If your peers could see how you’re treating Steven, they would probably sneer and look down on you. Sugar babies are for providing comfort, in various forms, in exchange for material and financial gain. They aren’t meant to be looked after like children. But Steven is also in a vulnerable state, needing extra care where he usually wouldn’t.

Though you have no interest in children and don’t see Steven as one, you need somewhere to express your caring tendencies and affection. Sugar babies have always been the best and safest outlet for you. If your positions were reversed, you hope someone as kind as Steven would show the same care toward you.

“I’m sorry I ruined our holiday,” Steven quietly says as the jet starts moving. These are his first words in what you’re sure have been hours.

“You didn’t ruin it,” you assure with a shake of your head. You cradle his face in one hand and stroke your thumb across his cheek. “I had a great time because I got to spend it with you.”

“But I did. Ruin it, I mean.” Despite his disagreement, he doesn’t do anything to move away from you. “First with the sleepwalking, then the moping around. And then I felt bad for not talking, so I wanted to talk even less. I’ve been horrible to you.”

You shake your head again. “You haven’t—”

“Hush,” Steven cuts you off. You’re a little shocked, to say the least. He’s never done that before. “There’s something else. I thought about waiting for a better time since I didn’t get it as an apology, but I don’t want to wait.”

“What are you…” you trail off as Steven turns away from you and leans down to grab the backpack he kept at his feet instead of stowing away.

Finding whatever he’s looking for, he keeps his hand in the bag, and his attention falls back to you.

“That wasn’t how our last day should have ended, and I’m really sorry. This was how it should have ended.” Steven quickly pulls his hand out of his backpack and thrusts a small, hinged red box toward you. It’s perfectly square and is even tied with a white ribbon.

You stare at it, unmoving. “You got me a gift?”

Steven nods, and your heart skips a beat.

You carefully take the small box from his hand. People don’t…give you gifts. Your brain short circuits a little.

“When did you even get this?” You think back, trying to remember if you got any notifications that could tell you when and where Steven bought it.

“When you were getting your facial. I went on a trip around town.” You look up at Steven, then. You definitely didn’t know about that. “I wanted to find the perfect gift for you while we were here.”

“You didn’t use your card.” An accusation filled with confusion.

“I did use my card, just not the one you gave me. I wasn’t going to make you pay for your own gift.” He fidgets a little and gets a nervous look that has nothing to do with the jet taking flight. “Open it? Please?”

You examine the box again. Recognizing the shape, you can guess that it’s jewelry inside, but not what it looks like. It could be anything, and who’s to say what Steven thinks you’ll like. Now you’re the nervous one.

You say a silent prayer, hoping you actually like the gift and won’t have to crush Steven when he still isn’t in the best state of mind.

Carefully tugging on the end of the ribbon, the bow falls apart and slides off the box. The hinges are stiff, but you ease the lid open and peer inside.

Lying on a pristine white cushion is a bracelet. A strand of small, delicate white pearls is twisted around a thin, wire-like band of gold that is shaped into a repeating wave. Beautiful in its simplicity and daintiness, you find it stunning.

“Oh, Steven…” you say breathlessly, lightly running your fingers along the bracelet. Then, you thrust the jewelry box back toward him and hold out your left hand. “Put it on.”

Not the most elegant way to ask, but you’re practically buzzing with joy that you can’t think to ask properly.

With shaking hands, Steven carefully lifts the bracelet from its cushion. He struggles with the clasp but eventually gets it wrapped around your wrist. Then he grabs your hand and presses his lips to your wrist, just above where the bracelet settles.

His lips are barely off your skin before you take his face in your hands and pull him into a heated kiss. You can barely control yourself, but judging by the moan Steven lets out, you’d say he’s not complaining.

“I did a good job?” he asks when you pull away, his face flushed and lips swollen.

“You did amazing. I love it.” You kiss him again. “Thank you, Steven,” you say softly, trying to put as much feeling as you can into the words, hoping he knows you mean them.

You’re thanking him for more than the bracelet. You don’t say it out loud—you can’t—but you’re thanking him for caring about you. For thinking of you and wanting to show you that you mean something to him. He’s not doing it because he feels he has to; he’s doing it because he genuinely likes you.

It’s an unfamiliar feeling; you almost don’t know what to do about it.

One thing you can say for certain, though, is that it makes you l—care about Steven all the more.

For the rest of the flight, you’re curled up against Steven as much as you can be, your head resting on his shoulder. Your hand rests on his, your bracelet flashing in the sunlight.

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