#trying to give them all different poses..hard..

[messi-mooni]

Let’s go flying!

Individuals below :3

[the-acid-pear]

I fucking love this movie because look at it look at IGNORE THE CENTIPEDE BTW DONT WORRY ABOUT IT but look at the color and the framing and the fucking Fog like i cannot stress enough just how cinematic the first movie is man. Kind of but not entirely lost in the sequels, where the settings were simply Ugly.

[frogcroaks]

Here's some art tips from a (mostly) self taught artist that aren't just "practice a lot ^_^"

Most paid premade art courses (i.e lessons are youtube videos/written lessons) are a waste of money. They go through the same fundamentals everyone does and tend to talk about concepts and terms originating from popular books such as andrew loomis' bibliography or james gurney's color and light. just buy (or pirate) the books about the topic you wish to learn about instead.

in contrast, art courses that focus on tutoring you, even if not 1:1 (i.e its a class) are extremely valuable. they are very expensive though so I won't act like you Must do them.

in the same vein of premade art courses, most tutorials/youtube videos are also information from books of art masters through insane degrees of separation. They're free so its not like theyre bad but they slowly erase any nuance and educational lessons that the books offered in trade for being easy to put in a 10 minute video. they may be good introductions but if you ever feel like they dont give much that's why.

the reason why "just practice" feels unhelpful is because each area of art has multiple methods of practicing it, some of which are not interchangeable, and are not common knowledge. here's some ways I practice:

precursor practice that helps you in all areas -> learning about shapes. the volume of boxes, cylinders, spheres, how they move in 3d space, how they can be cut, interpolated, etc. put them in a perspective grid, try layering shapes and cutting them up.

human anatomy -> learn about muscle and bone placement, and how they move. study the shapes and planes of the body, what is hard vs soft. gesture drawing if youre stuck on poses and dynamics

light and shadow -> learn to simplify objects via planes and how those planes are illuminated, where the light positions itself and why (is it the sun? a lantern? a lightbulb?), learn about the science of light such as the different types of shadow and how light bounces. pick up photos and find the light source.

its fine to take long breaks from art. drawing everyday is not super useful and only works for a few people. yes youll have rust but its very easy to shake it off.

if you learn how to get joy from the action of drawing over the results of drawing, studies will feel less like a chore and youll be less reliant on an art piece turning out good to not feel miserable.

if the only art community you have is your followers/social media you will go crazy. your audience has no obligation of enjoying every single piece of yours and alienating them will make things worse. find actual art friends where you can have conversations about your art so you dont feel so reliant on social media numbers.

appreciate art that isnt other illustrative art. find joy in abstract sculptures, architecture, music, novels, the world around you etc.

yes materials help a lot but if you dont have experience then you'll not see a big difference in output. you also need to learn to use those materials before being able to draw how other artists do.

no matter how good you are, you will always make art that you see as bad/lower quality. those artists you think only make bangers are still feeling bad because some of those bangers are not good to them. learn to come to terms that not everything you make will be a hit or satisfy you, and move on.

[foxnfreaks]

give you my wild

SUMMARY: you hide the fact you're pregnant from robby, bc what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. right? (3k words)

WARNINGS: unplanned pregnancy, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort (aka the works), age difference, i'm gonna call it like vague miscommunication too

i saw this man hold a baby and this just kinda spilled from me (also my first fanfic in a while, i feel like i'm trying to dust off the old typewriter aka my laptop and my desire to write, so i apologise if i'm a little rusty)

It’s been three weeks since you finally decided that the mornings of vomiting and the sudden distaste for eggs had to mean something. Three weeks since you took the pregnancy test when Robby was out picking you two up a takeaway on that motorbike you were trying really hard to like still. Three weeks since you hid it behind books you knew he’d never touch when you saw the little pink plus sign, and kissed him like nothing had happened when he walked in with your sudden craving of Thai food.

It's not like you hid the fact you were pregnant maliciously. You knew he had the makings of a great father in him, even if the two of you weren’t actively trying. And whilst the idea of having a baby whilst being a fourth year resident wasn’t exactly ideal, you knew you didn’t want to get rid of the baby either. But you felt like maybe – just maybe – you didn’t have to tell Robby just yet. Again, not because you wanted to baby trap him or anything like that. No. Because for the first time in years, Michael Robinavitch was taking a holiday and the last thing you wanted was to ruin it for him.

You knew his sabbatical seemed to most like a midlife crisis. Admittedly, it did to you too. Riding across the country on a motorbike was stupid, but you’d bought him the best helmet money could buy and he’d sworn to you that he wasn’t going to do anything stupid. He planned to miss you very much during the three months and make up for how much you’d missed him before returning to his job.

Deep down, the both of you knew how much he needed a break. He’d been getting snappier and angrier with every day that had passed over the last few months. Mostly at work, but on occasion with you too. You’d had your first big fights of the relationship. Ones that had him crawling across the floor to whisper apologies, looking up at you with those big dark brown eyes of his all wet and begging for a forgiveness you always gave. But that was you. You knew Robby didn’t afford that same privilege to his other coworkers. Abbot and Dana, occasionally, with a push. But Mohan was a different story, one you knew you couldn’t let him keep writing. It had been you who had suggested he find himself an adventure far away from Pittsburgh and any reminders of it – even if that included yourself.

Maybe it was because you saw what you reckoned others couldn’t; that Robby was pushing and pushing and forcing people away so they wouldn’t miss him. But you weren’t about to let him have a reason to leave the world. Not when you both loved each other so much.

Should that be a reason to tell him, you wondered as you sat cross legged on your shared bed, smiling at him as he talked to you about his plans for the drive. As Robby spoke of tourist traps he’d marked on his map, you decided it wasn’t. You could practically see the responsibilities lifting off of him one by one as he talked about his plans, the lost weight bringing back a version of him you had briefly genuinely feared was lost. You weren’t about to make that all crash down around him.

So instead, you lay a hand over your stomach, rubbing small subtle circles into it as you nodded along to his conversation. He tried on shirts for you, posing just to have you giggle at his over exaggerated flexing, before folding them messily and throwing them into his backpack. Once the backpack was half packed, Robby pushed it from the bed with a sigh, eyes flickering to you. “You’re still good with this, right?”

For a brief moment, your stomach twisted with something close to guilt. You hated lying to him, you’d usually crumble in seconds. But this was for him, not against him, you reminded yourself. You had to be good with this.

Your eyes softened, hand slowly leaving your stomach to reach for him. “Yeah. Yeah, of course I am. You need to do this. It’s okay.”

Robby had crumbled within seconds. He climbed up the bed and cupped your face in his hands. “You promise?

“I do. Don’t worry about me.”

He sighed, leaning down to kiss your nose. “Too good for me, honey. That’s what you are. Way too good.”

God, you begged he didn’t see the guilt eating you from your inside out.

It took you until the morning of Robby’s last shift to confide in anyone else that you were pregnant.

You honestly thought you’d been hiding it perfectly. The sudden lack of eggs for breakfast was easily disguised by your sudden affinity for waffles and bacon, and your vomiting wasn’t noticed so long as you were careful to lock the bathroom door at work with a ‘Cleaning in Progress’ sign on the handle.

But knowing Robby’s sabbatical was only hours away had thrown you off your game. You slipped the sign on as usual the second you started your shift, but in your haste to make it to the toilet you’d forgotten to lock the door. And Dana had started to get more than a little pissed off that the easiest bathroom to access was always locked at the start of the day. When she tried the handle, she expected the usual frustration of rattling it for a minute or two before giving up, not to find it open and you vomiting into a toilet like your body was trying to get rid of all the nutrients it held.

“Oh, honey,” she said as she moved to hold your hair away from your face, rubbing your back with all the care you’d come to expect from her. “It’s okay. Get it all up.”

After enough time had passed that you were sure it was over, you sat back against the stall, wiping tears from your eyes as Dana flushed the contents of the toilet away. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, kid,” she murmured as she sat beside you, her shoulder nudging against yours. “Now, do I gotta send you home?”

You shook your head with a sniffle. “I’m – I’m not sick.”

Dana snorted. “Looked pretty sick to me.”

Slowly, you tore your gaze from the floor to meet hers, swallowing around a lump in your throat so big that you worried it was about to choke you. “I’m not sick, Dana. I’m pregnant.”

You’d half expected a stunned silence from Dana, but instead she was looking at you with an expression so soft it hurt. “You’re sure?”

“Took four tests, all positive. Gave myself an ultrasound,” you whispered as you nodded shakily. “There’s a baby in me, I’ve seen them.”

Dana watched you for a moment, cataloguing the way your breath hitched, how your lip trembled and your eyes looking at the floor like you were awaiting a charge of ‘guilty’. “Robby doesn’t know, does he?”

“I can’t tell him. He’ll never go on his sabbatical, and he’ll just get worse, and it’ll be all my fault.”

You hated hearing how your voice broke. You especially hated the tears forming too thick and too fast to stop. After weeks of keeping it a secret - of keeping all the fear in – your resolve dissolved into sobs you didn’t know you held. Dana’s arms slipped around you, rubbing your back again as she let you stop being strong.

It was the first time since you’d taken the test that you’d actually said the words ‘I’m pregnant’. Of course they’d been stuck in your head; at the moment, all you could think about was baby and Robby. There had been no you until you’d said it aloud. You’d forgotten that in taking all the weight away from Robby, you’d been crushing yourself into a fine dust.

Dana didn’t say anything until you’d quietened again, knowing she needed your focus to make any sort of leeway. “Listen to me, yeah? Robby may be pissing us all off a little at the moment, but I can say for certain that he loves you. He would love a baby with you. He wouldn’t want you keeping it from him.”

“But – ”

“No buts. He can have his sabbatical sat at home with you just as easily as he can in the middle of fucking nowhere on a motorbike,” she sighed, wiping your damp hair and tears from your face. “Let him choose you. Don’t push him away.”

You knew, deep down, that she was right. Of course she was. But that part of you that was so scared of being hurt and hurting others was so strong it threatened to drown you forever. “You don’t think he’ll be mad?”

Dana shook her head instantly, smiling in that warm way that made everything better. “No, kid. I think he’ll be over the moon.”

It wasn’t your fault that it took you until the end of the shift to work up the courage to tell Robby.

You really hadn’t meant to take so long. The problem was that every time you got close, one of you was pulled in a different direction. There was Langdon, and Robby’s determination to be wherever he was not. There was Louie passing and the grief that seemed to suspend the hospital. There was the influx of patients from Westbridge and the rush to ensure they were treated properly. And in between it all, there was the beautiful little baby girl who had been left in the hospital.

When you went to find Robby after you’d finally finished your shift, you felt it was cruel of the universe to show you him holding baby Jane Doe in the darkened paediatrics room. He was swaying her as she cried, trying to soothe her no doubt. God, he really would make a good father. Your hand went to lay over your stomach at the sight as you found the lump in your throat returning with a vengeance.

For a moment, you considered running to anywhere else – the toilets, Dana’s arms, your soon to be empty home. But then Robby looked up. His eyes, watery and soft, found you and he seemed to brighten. Just a little. Just enough to melt something inside of you.

You couldn’t keep running from him. Not the way he usually did. So instead, you made yourself step into the room.

“You okay?” Robby asked softly, patting the baby’s back as he watched you, looking for the signs you didn’t want to show. He’d gotten quite good at it, if he did say so himself. But he could see nothing. It was like you were closed off even from yourself. The observation made his frown deepen.

You nodded, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I’m good. I just… wanted to see you before you left.”

“Still here, baby,” he murmured.

You liked it when it was quiet between the two of you. You didn’t need loud and obvious to love Robby. You just needed a hand on your back, his voice whispering in your ear as you watched a movie late at night and him beside you in bed. Your heart ached at the sudden remembrance that he wouldn’t be there for the next three months.

You moved until you were directly in front of him, smiling at the baby as your hand joined his on her back. “God, aren’t you just perfect?”

Robby watched the way your eyes shimmered with barely restrained tears, the quiet longing ache that had settled in your bones struggling to hold you steady the way it had before. You were watching the baby as if she held secrets you’d wanted to know for so long, and maybe she did. Robby just wished he knew how to give them to you too.

“She is, isn’t she?” he said back, giving you the space he knew you needed to let him in.

Your tongue darted across your lip, trying to buy yourself time to find the right words before he pressed too hard. But your brain was so tired and the pain in your chest wasn’t easing the way you needed it to. It wasn’t your fault that the word’s seemed to tumble from your mouth without really consulting your brain. “Would you have a baby?”

You felt the air in the room shift. Not in a way that made you want to run, but similar to that of the moments before a storm you know won’t do too much damage. Robby’s eyes weren’t so soft anymore; they were confused and cautious, as if he was aware you’d stepped into territory he wasn’t prepared for. “A baby? What do you mean?”

“With me,” you whispered, biting your lip. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t imagined it already. Growing bigger, growing a life inside of you, and watching Robby as he built a crib or painted a room when you got too sore to help. Him letting you have your pick of names when the baby finally came. Watching him as he learned to love a mini version of the both of you that you’d made. From the moment they would enter the world to the minute they left you for college, you’d thought of it all in excruciating detail.

“Are you asking if I’d have a baby with you?” he asked as one hand left the baby to cup your face, his thumb rubbing across the apple of your cheek so gently it brought tears back to your eyes. “Why?”

And you knew what was going to happen before it even did. You saw it the way people described a car crash – watching as if you were a bystander to the event. You felt it as the tears finally spilled over and your voice wavered whilst choking out, “I’m pregnant.”

Robby stood frozen before you, eyes darting over your face as if he could find a trace of a lie or a joke. But he didn’t find the tells he had become used to throughout your relationship. You were pregnant, and he could see that you were certain of it. He didn’t ask you if you’d taken a test as he lay the baby back down. He didn’t ask if you’d actually had it confirmed as he took your face in both of his hands. What he asked instead when he leaned down to make sure he saw you properly was, “How long have you known?”

“Three weeks,” you said through tears, hands going to hold his wrists so that he couldn’t let go of you.

He repeated the timeline in a quiet whisper. You could practically see the cogs turn in his head as he thought of your sudden hatred for eggs, your over exhaustion at the end of a shift and the few times he’d caught you vomiting, which you had waved off as a result of a bad takeaway. But mostly he thought of the quietness he’d started to notice in you. At first, he’d thought it was because of his sabbatical. It was your way of preparing for the three months you’d have without him to talk to constantly. But he could see now that this was a different kind of withdrawal; one he wasn’t meant to have noticed.

“Why didn’t you tell me, honey?”

You sniffle and hiccup, trying to get the tears to stop as he soothes you with the gentle brush of his thumbs. “I didn’t – I didn’t want to ruin your sabbatical. I didn’t want to stress you out more and ruin everything.”

You expected him to yell. Maybe even to curse you out. Possibly even to say that you had ruined everything and that he was going on his sabbatical and not coming back. That was the kind of man you had come to expect in your past, and had started to notice in Robby too.

What you hadn’t prepared for was kindness.

“Oh, sweetheart, this wouldn’t have ruined anything,” he cooed gently, kissing your forehead like he could absorb all your overthinking.

“No?” you say as the tears slowed.

Robby shook his head with an exhausted half-smile. “No. I would have hated to come back and find out that you’d kept a baby from me.”

Your lip trembled again, and he sighed before pulling you to his chest. Slowly, in that soothing way he’d perfected after over a year of being with you, he rubbed a hand up your back. He kissed your hair and whispered comfort that you’d been desperate to hear since that pregnancy test had come back positive. “I don’t hate you. It’s okay,” he murmured, eyes creasing with a love that truly weighed him down. It wasn’t a weight he hated; he found comfort in it. There was a steadiness, a familiarity, a calm he found there that he hadn’t anywhere else. He wasn’t about to give that up – not in a million years.

Slowly, your panicked breaths slowed, and you met his gaze hesitantly. “I didn’t mean to hide it from you. I just didn’t want to ruin your road trip.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He shook his head and stroked your hair from your face like he did every morning when he finally climbed from your bed. Robby looked from your face to your stomach slowly, moving one of his hands to rest over it like he could already feel the physical difference in you. “I don’t think I want to go on my sabbatical anymore anyway.”

“Because of me?” you asked in a panic, rushing to come up with reasons to make him go.

“No, because everyone’s right. It is a midlife crisis,” Robby said, exhaling through his nose, lips quirking up into a smile at the corner when you let out a shaky laugh. There she is, he thought. The kind, easy, giving girl was the one he loved, not the one who sat up all night with her stomach twisting from omitted truths. “We could go somewhere instead. You’re overdue for a break yourself. Especially if there’s gonna be a baby on the way.”

A million thoughts rushed through your head. That you should push Robby to go on his sabbatical still. That you didn’t need a break, not yet anyway. That he still needed space from everything that was pulling him down. But at the same time, all you could really hear echoing in your ears was that the plans had changed because of the baby. “You want the baby?”

“Of course I want our baby,” he said softly, kissing your cheek so gently you barely felt it. “I’m fucked up. You’re a mess. But I’m not missing out on this. Not when it’s with you.”

You waited for your brain to supply excuses, reasons not to do this. But for once, you found your thoughts to be blissfully quiet. You wanted this. He wanted this. It was okay to want to do this together. So you didn’t argue. You let yourself want it. You gave yourself permission, finally, to fully love the life inside of you.

Reaching up, you cradled the side of his face in your hand. “Okay then. Where do you wanna go?”

[emfaeri]

My Eyes Are Up Here? Pt2

Of course darlin! Let's torment these boys more with our goods! I'm going to toss Doctor in here too so he can get some well deserved tit time!

Tags: Implied NSFW with a NSFW blurb, breast having reader, reader who lives for the thrill of a good tease, reader is actually just me, Blue Balled Ticket Taker

One extra shot of teasing coming up!

The Freak Circus is an 18+ Visual novel Themes include but are not limited to: dark elements, strong language, sensitive graphic content. My works can depict similar themes and are not intended for minors.

Jester

Absolutely refuses to fall for your charms, he knows humans can and will use their attractive features to their advantage, you're not any different. He eventually lowers his guard once he realizes that you're not using your cleavage as a tool for anything malicious. He'll sneak a few glances at your breasts when you're oblivious, making mental notes.

Some of these mental notes of his catch you by surprise, however. "We are not leaving with you wearing... that." He huffs out in annoyance, gesturing to your chest, before you could protest the low-cut shirt you picked out, he sighs. "I absolutely detest that bra you have on right now. Here, pet, wear this one instead, it'll provide more support for your back. I really don't wish to hear your complaining later tonight."

If you were prideful of your chest before, your ego will absolutely become iconic when you allow him to curate your wardrobe. It's no surprise Jester knows a thing or two about fashion, but he knows exactly what types of bras compliment your figure best without sacrificing comfort. Replacing your underwire push-ups with new lace minimizers that just happen to be in his signature purple, pure coincidence of course.

He views your appearance as an extension of himself, his pet should be something beautiful to showcase to onlookers. Gawking passerby's just stroking his prideful ego, the thought of them lusting after what is rightfully and fully his brings a level of thrill to a simple outing. Anyone foolish enough to try their luck with you however are met with a swift interjection from your silver tongued stylist, often ending in a gifted pink ticket. The circus is always short staffed and in need of hard dedicated workers.

Hands tenderly hooked your bra band together, claws ghosted over your fragile skin before he released your hair causing you to shiver slightly. Jester stepped away from you and made his way to his vanity chair, sitting down elegantly.

"How does it feel, my pet? Not too tight?" His eyes like amethyst celestial bodies burning holes into your very being, but not giving you the satisfaction of glancing at your half dressed body.

The bra he picked out for you was breathtaking, a deep purple with intricate lace, mesh for breathability and some elastic bands to frame the swell of your cleavage. The shoulder straps were comfortable to boot too, it hardly even felt like you were wearing a bra at all.

"It's beautiful, I don't think I've had a bra more comfortable than this in my life," you admire the patterns and how supportive the bra holds your tits, even going as far to give a little test jiggle.

Jester leans forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees uncharacteristically donning a more dominate pose. His grin subtly changing to something more predatory.

"Come here," he commands as he extends his hand out towards you.

You subconsciously walk over to your siren of a lover, his hand grazes your shoulder before trailing down your arm, the sensation causing your nipples to pebble.

"My pet should wear only the best," his hand floats from your arm to the curve of the side of your breast, fingertips tracing the lace embroidery. "I will gladly spoil you," his hand suddenly gropes your entire breast, claws threatening your sensitive nipple, the thin mesh doing nothing to dull the sensation of his fondling.

"If you can prove to me that you deserve being spoiled, that is?"

Ticket Taker

The first few times you wore revealing shirts around Ticket Taker he had to find nearby objects suddenly interesting. He's not new to seeing cleavage with some of the visitors, especially around the hotter climates, but it's different when it comes to you. It's not respectful to look at something so... intimate. Once he gets used to you wearing revealing shirts he gets more comfortable holding a conversation with you, opting to just take the time to appreciate your face, although he'd be lying to himself if he didn't sneak a few peeks when you weren't paying attention. Shaming himself on lonely nights by seeing your assets through various reflections.

Some late nights with him often end with him giving you his coat, not only to shield you from the night's chill but also to cover yourself from his waning self control. A few of the shirts you wear around him have an exhausting habit of slipping even lower, occasionally causing him to muster enough courage to pull the sinister fabric back up, which only fuels your teasing nature.

It pains him to admit however, that when you assist him in the circus sales tend to increase. At first he assumed it was because of your welcoming demeanor or your efficiency in getting visitors through the gates, but he eventually figures out it's because of your charms. He often finds himself torn between refusing to allow your help and letting you dress more provocatively to boost sales. Either way, he keeps a close eye on you regardless, he knows how he struggles with his composure but also how humans have a bad habit of not retaining their own.

If you get a particularly rowdy visitor however, his hand is immediately on your waist, in an uncommonly assertive display of possessiveness. He hijacks your sale and either persuades them to visit another time or offer employment, his hand occasionally tightening around you. Once the visitor takes the hint or the ticket, he guides you to somewhere away from prying eyes.

"Are you trying to test my patience, dear one?" He borderline growls through his question, his hand rubbing what is probably furrowed brows under his mask.

"I'm not sure what you mean," you feign innocence as you adjust your shirt, causing your bra to peek out from the seam of your v-neck dress.

He finally caves, his impulse breaking free like a dam releasing any semblance of his gentlemanly persona. His eyes land at your cleavage, pupils dilating as they attempt to drink in the vision before him.

Hook, line, and sinker. You have him right where you want him.

"I just thought I'd wear this nice dress and help you with your work so we could maybe do something tonight. Just the two of us," you fuss over your hair moving your arms in a way that compresses your tits more, the dress threatening to reveal more of your bra.

"What,"he clears his throat before correcting his gaze, "what did you have in mind for tonight?" He mirrors you by adjusting his collar which suddenly felt snug against his neck.

You smirk before walking up to him. "I honestly haven't given it too much thought just yet, I do have a few ideas though," you adjust the lapels of his coat, once again pressing your breasts together, the scent of your perfume wafting up teasing him as bad as your figure.

The thrumming in his chest was nearly audible, he was in an internal battle between finishing his business at the circus or reverting back to a primal lustful beast. Any moment now could be detrimental to either side, the tension was palpable enough to nearly see.

You smirked and gave a teasing giggle before trailing your hands down his suit, feeling his body tense as he weighed all the pros and cons of entertaining a break in his shift. Your hands finally found it as you delicately grabbed the shaft. A sudden inhale snuck your perfume into his lungs.

You snatched his pen from his suit pocket and stepped away, clicking it a few times before nestling it between your breasts, clipping it to the thin fabric of your dress.

"Maybe after our shift I'll come up with something for tonight?" You give him a wink before turning on your heels back out to the entrance of the circus.

A few moments of silence pass before he puts his hands over his face and exhales all of his sinful thoughts.

"I am far too old for this," he groans before regaining his composure.

Doctor

The unbothered King. No amount of flaunting shakes his resolve, much to your frustration. Little to do you know that his mask allows him a free pass to look at whatever part of your body that he wants to study, free of your notice. He does enjoy it when you wear low cut shirts and overly revealing clothes, not entirely for lustful reasons. Your body is a marvelous biological machine and he loves to see all the bells and whistles working so freely. The jiggle of your breasts, the flexing of your muscles in your legs, the straining of your biceps when you carry something moderately heavy, all of it is enchanting to him.

If you ask him one day if he enjoys your revealing clothing he'll give you the most deadpan, "yes," with little to no follow up. However, if you take this the wrong way and start to cover up or dress out of the norm prepare for a triage of questioning. Not once does he connect the dots to his seemingly lack of interest and instead asks health related questions as to your sudden change in attire. Once you cave and explain to him the situation he can't help but laugh it off. "If my sweetie wants to know my internal thought process, then so be it." This leads to him casually interrupting you mid conversation with the oddest remarks. "Your sternum is very proportional to your ribcage." "I wish to study the way your quadriceps flex later tonight." "Your racing heartbeat causes your breasts to recoil slightly, mesmerizing." Repetition refines results, right?

He's not oblivious to how other people stare at you like a slab of meat, and honestly it's one of the few things that gets under his thick skin. He makes sure to always be in close enough proximity to dissuade anyone from attempting to interact with you for that reason. He's not the jealous type but absolutely is the overly protective type. One of his biggest assets is being able to read a person's body language, meaning the second he senses someone gathering up enough courage to approach you causes him to crush their hopes, and sometimes their bones if they test his clear boundaries.

The one thing that drives him crazy is you in your most natural of states, whether that be fresh out of the shower, just waking up, or even just coming home after a long day and flopping onto the furniture. It's enough to put his racing thoughts on a screeching standstill, his own heartrate spiking, his hands turning clammy, the works. Sure you put effort in flaunting yourself in general and displaying your prized jewels, but nothing gets him more worked up than when you're in a "I literally look like shit" state.

You wrapped the towel around your body after lazily drying your hair off. You always forget to lay out your clothes before deciding to shower much to your annoyance. Stepping out of the bathroom you spot Doctor sitting on your bed, seemingly documenting every detail of your room in a notebook.

"I don't think I've seen you doing anything other than your work or taking notes," you lightly heckle him before making your way to your dresser, steam following you like an ethereal being in folktales.

For once Doctor loses his train of thought completely, completely enamored by the visage in front of him. His eyes scanning every inch of your skin and all of the muscles and tendons under it. You were digging through your dresser trying to find the comfiest nightwear and he was digging through his archive of anatomical diagrams replacing the generic figures with the sight before him.

Your wet hair catches his attention, a droplet traveling along the keratin fibers before free falling onto the supple skin of your chest, momentarily pausing along with his breath.

A shift of your arm causes it to fall in between the crevice of your cleavage before vanishing into its depths.

A sudden thud shakes him from his trance, he managed to drop his notebook.

"Everything alright?" You place your clothes on top of your dresser before making your way over to your stoically flustered plague doctor. "Here, I've got it," you bend down to grab the spine of the book, trying to save his spot in the pages, your other hand reinforcing the tuck of your towel.

His eyes struggle to focus on anything longer than half of a second, the way your legs muscle groups bend, no, the way you knelt down, the way your spine bent to support the movement of you assisting him, the way your, everything..

"Sweetie..." he sighs out almost like a prayer.

You lose the momentum and slump back down on your knees at the sudden change of his usual tone. "Y-yes?"

"I need to study you," he reaches out to the towel, using surgical precision to untuck the fold in record time, your hands instinctually bracing it before it fully fell, only to be met with his other hand firmly moving them away.

"I need to study all of you, right now."

[pinkandblueblurbs]

overcompensating

alpha!jack abbot x omega!fem!reader. a/b/o au and dynamics, references to omega discrimination, scenting, instincts, penetrative sex, fingering, sex at work, power imbalance, brat taming, praise, possessiveness, unprotected sex.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: I dont feel great about this one tbh... i dont think i captured the dynamic quite as well as i'd hoped to. but hopefully ya'll enjoy :')

Jack’s really not sure what your problem is.

You’re stubborn, headstrong, overly ambitious, and oftentimes just shy of rude. All of which are things Jack has come to expect from omegas after years of working with them in such a high-stakes environment— most take on an overly-harsh exterior to counteract the stigma they face. It’s a survival mechanism, a necessary precaution in order to be taken seriously and have any chance of success in a profession that’s dominated by alphas and deals with countless assholes day in and day out.

Jack doesn’t begrudge them. He knows that working in the Pitt— or in emergency medicine, or in any medical setting, for that matter— isn’t easy for omegas. He tries to keep that in mind and act accordingly. He works hard to foster a good work environment for everyone on his crew.

He likes to think he does a halfway decent job. And, seemingly, most of the omegas that have passed through his supervision over the years would agree. Once they see how he runs things they usually start to let their guards down a bit. They stop entering every situation with their teeth bared and hackles raised. They speak their minds with confidence rather than nervous aggression. They accept his teaching without assuming he’s trying to undermine them.

They even start to give in to their instincts a bit, without fear that he’ll think of them as weak or take advantage of their vulnerability. They allow themselves to preen under his praise, submit under his command, and settle under his comfort.

Not you. You’ve been here for 3 months now and he can still feel your eyes tracking him through every room like you’re waiting for him to pounce. You still respond to everything he asks through clenched teeth, like you’re bracing for backlash that never comes. You still roll your eyes at every one of his jokes and question every one of his orders.

Tonight is no different. If Jack took a shot every time you rolled your eyes, scowled, or talked back to him, his name would be up on the patient board.

He should find it infuriating. Part of him— the most basic, primitive part— does. You give him the urge to snap his teeth and growl, make you show him some respect.

The rest of Jack finds you… interesting. Exciting. Jack loves a challenge, and you pose a very fun one. He’s determined to figure you out.

Jack tracks you down after shift change. He finds you in the empty room of the last patient you discharged. You’re hunched over your rolling computer cart, finishing up some charting.

When he walks in you look startled, then cornered, then extremely irritated.

“You know, I came in here for some peace and quiet.”

“Do you have some kind of problem with me?” Jack asks, choosing to ignore your snide greeting. You eye him for a moment, like you’re deciding whether you want to tell the truth or not. He raises a brow and waits.

“You clearly don’t trust me with the patients.” You eventually say, stony. Not true. “You’re always— hovering. Like you’re waiting for me to slip up. But I’m not gonna slip up”

Anxiety and vulnerability roll off you in waves, souring your scent. When Jack smells it he desperately aches to soften. To gather you in his arms and rumble out assurances. I know you won’t, little omega. You do such a good job. You’re so good. It takes everything in him to stifle the urge.

“I’m your attending,” he says calmly, careful to keep his voice even. “It’s kinda my job to keep an eye on you. Y’know, to attend.”

Your eyes narrow. “You’re not my attending.” You grind out the words, and maybe Jack’s reading into it, but you sound… bitter? Jealous? “You and Shen are the attendings. Supervising me isn’t your personal little pet project.”

“You want it to be?”

You look taken aback. Just for a second. Jack can’t help but revel in it– you’re not easy to shake.

“I just want you to fuck off and stop breathing down my neck so I can actually do my job!”

Jack doesn’t respond for a moment. He barely manages to stifle his surprise at the fact that an omega just, essentially, cursed him out and spat in his face. He stares down his nose at you, intentionally allowing the silence to feel thick. Studying you.

He sees you catch on. You straighten up, even puff out your chest a bit, trying to look strong and sure and unbothered.

It’s a good attempt, he’ll give you that. You’d have plenty of alphas fooled.

But Jack catches the way your head tilts back for just an instant like you’re about to bare your throat. Sees the flash of doubt in your eyes, like your instincts are begging you to just give this up already, roll over, and show him your belly. Oh. That’s new. He feels his cock swell.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck off?” He lets his voice drop an octave. You make a choked, barely-there sound that he’d like to call a whimper. Your scent shifts sweeter.

Jack steps towards you, big and slow and imposing, and is surprised again when you don’t back up. Ballsy little thing.

“You know what I think?” His voice is smooth, low, almost a purr. Dripping with alpha condescension.

Jack sees your throat bob as you swallow. You just glare up at him without a word, and he knows it's because you don’t trust your voice not to waver. He smirks.

“I’ll tell you, sweetheart.” He watches you shiver. He’s so close now that he’s almost touching you. “I think you know that I’m good at what I do. I think you respect me. Maybe even like me a little. And all this attitude you give me…” he raises a brow and leans down, letting his breath fan over your face, “Is you trying to overcompensate for the fact that what you really want is to be bent over and put in your place.”

It’s bold, Jack realizes. Might be too much. Could make you turn tail, but he doubts it. You’re braver than that.

He watches you stiffen. There’s a flash of blatant hunger in your eyes— bingo— but it’s quickly snuffed out by stubborn defiance.

“I’m not just some needy ommie who’ll give it up to any alpha with a pulse.” Your voice only wavers a little.

“Oh, I know.” Jack nods. He feels, looks, and smells painfully smug. His voice is like velvet. “But you’ll give it up to me, won’t you?”

That breaks you. You practically collapse in on yourself, all small, and breathe out an involuntary “alpha.”

“There it is.” Jack coos. The praise makes you preen, and you extend your neck, baring your throat for Jack to brush his lips against. You smell fucking delicious. “Sweet little omega. You don’t have to fight it.”

“You’re such a douchebag.” You bite out. Sure, it’s weak and shaky, but it impresses Jack regardless. He has his nose pressed against your gland and you’re still talking back.

“Ooh, you don’t quit.” He rumbles. He pulls back slightly, his big hand coming up to cup the side of your neck. His eyes rake shamelessly down your body, not even trying to hide his desire. He’s sure you can smell it on him anyway. “What’s it gonna take, baby? Do you need my cock inside you to finally start behaving yourself?”

“You tell me, Abbot.” You sneer. “What’s it gonna take, in your professional opinion?”

Jack smiles, challenging and predatory in a way that would make most omegas wither. But not you. Your lip curls up, showing off cute little canines. He can’t help but groan and grind down against your abdomen.

“Fuck, baby.” Jack growls. “So cute when you act all tough.” He grips around your hip with a big hand and backs you up against the hospital bed while the other works hastily at the waistband of your scrubs. Once he has them loosened, he shoves his hand right down the front of your panties.

The second he gets his fingers inside you, you melt. Slick practically pours onto his hand. The strong, heady scent of it is overwhelming. It makes his nostrils flare.

If the way you’re squirming around on the bed and whining incoherently tells him anything, it’s that he’s not gonna need to get his cock involved to make you behave. The realization hits him like a truck, right through to his ego.

“There you go, little omega. You like that?” He taunts.

You nod, finally eager and obedient. It’s like a victory after all the fight you’ve given him. Jack didn’t know that submission from an omega could feel quite this good. It usually comes too easy.

“Yeah. Good girl. I’ve got you, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”

“D-Dr. Abbot— alpha— please.”

You sound fucking broken and Jack can’t stand it. His instincts whir— make her happy, make her feel good, fill her up.

“I’ve got you.” He repeats in the low, steady voice he reserves for omegas in distress. He pulls his fingers out of you, and it’s only so he can free his cock from his scrubs, but you whine anyway.

“Fuck— hurry up.”

“Shh. Easy.” Jack murmurs. His free hand reaches up, intending to stroke soothingly across your cheek— but he has to yank it away when you turn your head and nip at his fingers like a kitten. Fucking brat.

“Settle down.” He growls. The tone squeezes you tight, wrings out any fight you have left. You’re left lax on the bed below him– boneless, pliant, willing. Good, his alpha purrs. “That’s better. Just take what I give you.”

Jack slides his hard cock through your slit once, coating it in your slick, before he pushes into you.

You feel like heaven— the hottest, wettest, tightest fucking pussy he’s ever had. And the sound you make when he stretches you. That high pitched, keening moan of pleasure. Jack wants to bottle that sound.

“Good omega.” He purrs, leaning down to press hot kisses along the column of your neck. He’s possessed by the need to ensure you smell like him for days.

You arch into it, exposing your throat further, pushing your hips down on his cock.

“You feel so fucking good. You were made for this.”

You whine at that, and Jack can see your mind wrestling with the sentiment despite the way it makes your pussy gush and your instincts sing.

Jack hushes you. “It’s okay.” He holds you still by your hip and litters more wet, soothing kisses across your jaw. “There’s nothin’ wrong with it, sweet girl. Let yourself enjoy this.”

“Abbot—“ when you say it, Jack can’t stifle his choked laugh— “feels so good.”

“Call me Jack, baby, my fuckin’ dick’s inside you.” He shakes his head before he briefly connects his lips with yours. “Jesus. I woulda done this ages ago if I knew you wanted it this bad.”

His cock sponges over your g-spot and his tip kisses your cervix with every thrust. He can feel you getting close— your pussy’s clenching, you’re whimpering louder, slick is dripping down your thighs and onto the bed below. Your hands grapple desperately at his freckled sides, arms, and shoulders, nails leaving indented crescents in their wake.

“Come on, sweet omega.” Jack purrs in your ear. His hand finds your breast so he can thumb circles on your nipple as further encouragement. He fucks into you relentlessly. “I want you to cum for me. Milk my cock.”

“Jack— Alpha— fuck.” You sound broken as your orgasm washes over you. You shake below him on the table— lips parted, brows furrowed, eyes locked on his. Jack growls.

“There you go, that’s it. You’re so good.” He means it more than he’s ever meant anything. You’re so fucking good. You look good, you smell good, you feel good, you sound good. Jack’s not gonna last much longer. “You’re such a good omega.”

“Yours,” You keen— and fuck, you’re still cumming. “Your omega.”

“Mine.” Jack nods. His hips falter. “My good girl. Doing so well for your alpha.”

Jack lets his teeth ghost over your mating bond, grazing the tender, unbroken skin there.

The whimpery sound you let out sends him over the edge. His hips snap forward one more time and he spills inside you with a long, low groan. It takes everything in him to hold back and not bite you right then.

“Babygirl,” Jack grits out once he can speak, breathless. Your walls are still fluttering around his softening cock. “You’re fucking incredible.”

You don’t say anything. He lifts his head from the crook of your neck. “Hey. Look at me. You okay?”

“Jack…” you murmur. You’re looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars, and he feels like he could start glowing. Still, your scent sours with uncertainty. “Jesus, this is— we shouldn’t have—“

“Why not?”

“This is completely unprofessional—“

Jack scoffs. “Yeah, doll, we’re well past that.”

“This is exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid!” Your voice is raised. “And you make it very difficult!”

You’re clearly dismayed, and Jack shouldn’t grin, but he does.

“Do I?” Jack leans down to nose against the gland on your neck again. He smells only himself there, mingling with your scent, and goddamn he could get hard again. His tongue darts out to soothe over the area, and you melt. “Do I make it hard for you to conduct yourself?” He lets a mocking lilt bleed into his tone. “Is that why you insist on being such a pain in my ass all the time?”

“Don’t be mean.” You grumble. You're trying, and failing, to maintain your contempt. The words come out far too pleading.

“Attagirl. Now you’re getting it.” Jack coos. He leans down and gives you a kiss. “If you want me to be sweet on you then all you have to do is ask.”

You scowl at him. You still smell anxious, and that won't do at all.

Jack's expression softens. He deepens his scent to match, radiating protective reassurance. "Everything's gonna be okay, doll. I'll make sure of it."

[coffinlolz]

Touch(me)down !

pairing: Clark kent x reader

summary: When Clark tries his football jersey on, your mind is ridden by a sudden need to show him just how much you like it.

Tags and warnings: 18+ MDNI dryhumping, p in v, face-fucking, blowjobs, handjobs, fingering, cunnilingus, sub!clark (for the most part then he takes over), multiple orgasms, raw sex, aftercare, established relationship, clark has a BIG dick.

wc: 2.6k

A/N: ahhhh i rlly hope you like this. First pic posted andddd first smut written😭 special thanks to @kryptidfiles aaaaand @unificsation for proofreading and giving me their honest—and veeeery useful advice! Such sweet individuals 🫧🪽💌 pardonn me rlly if there’s any typos or mistakes english is not my first language😞

Sports have never really been your thing—you don't hate them, but you've never actually sat down and watched a whole game.

You're more artsy than anything, writing has always been a passion of yours. It's not a surprise that now that you're in college you've chosen the journalism path.

But your boyfriend Clark is a different story, he's sweet, well-mannered. a journalist, too. But his body screams athlete. Tall, broad shoulders and chest. Farm-made strength that put him on top of the list for the quarterback recruiting.

To nobody's surprise he made the team as soon as he tried out.

Today he finally got that Jersey with his last name big on the back and a number 8 in bold yellow letters.

You've been waiting for him to get it, see him try it on in front of you.

"Does it look good?" He says, looking at himself on your mirror, you're laying in your bed in front of it. Forearms propping you up on the mattress.

The jersey sticks tightly onto his abdomen, making him look delicious, you agree with hum at his question "I think it's perfect" you lick your lips, gaze sharp and dark. An idea crossing your mind.

That look is familiar to him, it sends a shiver down his spine.

The mirror catches Clark's eyes drag along the silhouette of your body on the bed. Suddenly your pose is not as innocent as it was 3 seconds ago. His nose and ears catch fire rapidly, warm and rosy all over.

You sit up slowly, and crawl to the edge of the bed. you pat the spot next to you, signaling him to sit there. He obeys to your commands like a well-behaved puppy.

"What are you doing?" A nervous chuckle escapes his mouth. He knows the answer, but he wants you to say it out loud.

"Just wanna show you how much I like the jersey on you" You bat your lashes at him innocently.

Once he sits down you get on your knees on the floor and prop yourself in between his legs.

The floor-length mirror next to you catches your attention, you can see your position perfectly.

A smirk forms on your face as he breaths heavily, flustered.

Big tent meeting you on eye level.

"You're so pretty" You mumble against his leg, you leave a kiss over his pants. "Can you take this off for me, please?" He obeys almost immediately, leaving only his boxers and jersey on.

Man what a view.

Your mouth already salivating at the sight of him.

His cock hard against the cotton underwear, displayed lewdly for you to enjoy completely by yourself.

His length wasn't anything unfamiliar to you, your insides were already Clark-shaped.

You make your way through his unclothed thighs, stopping to leave kisses and licks on his skin.

Sucking and licking, biting just enough to mark him up. Above you, you can only hear heavy breathing, soft moans and unintelligible mumbling—most likely praises.

Your hands go underneath the jersey, landing on his happy trail. You toy with the elastic band of the boxers, earning a desperate whine from Clark.

Anticipation making your own underwear pool up with your heat. You pull down revealing his size. Pink head throbbing, glistening with pre-cum.

Soft hands wrap around his thick cock, thumb pressing on the tip gaining a loud moan from Clark.

"Just like that, baby" He mumbles with a low growling voice, arching his hips upwards. You start going up and down, pace slow at first giving special attention to the sensitive tip. "So, so good."

Clark's head rolls back. The sound of him moaning and groaning your name floods the room.

You don't stop moving your hands around his dick, and you add your mouth to the equation. Wrapping your lips on it, sucking softly. tongue slithering on the tip.

Your head bobs at the same rhythm that your hands move on his cock, you flatten out your tongue against him. Clark's hands grab your hair and gently pull, you moan on his dick, sucking inch by inch further down.

Searching for stability, you grab his thighs firmly. His hips jerk upwards, thick, long dick reaching your throat and making gag.

Tears prick down your cheeks, you can hear Clark slurring apologetic words. You look up at him and moan at the sight.

He's a goner. Face red, curls messy on his face, eyes going white, and you swear you can see him slightly drooling. "You're so–mmphg…– so good, baby" He moans out, "So pretty taking me on your mouth so well, look at yourself" His head points to the mirror.

Your eyes leave his gaze to watch the lewd image displayed, your pussy flutters at the sight.

Warm, rosy tongue swirls around his length, nose almost touching his pubes, you breathe through your nose—still watching it all happen in the mirror.

Your left hand starts to play with his balls while the right keeps grabbing his thigh for balance.

His tip swells, a loud, guttural whine escapes his mouth—He's about to cum.

"I'm close, baby, please" He pleads for mercy, he cups your head in his hands. You look at him, holding eye contact and you blink twice at him, giving him permission use you.

And that he does.

He grabs your face from each side firmly and starts thrusting hard—abusing your mouth, making you gag each thrust he takes.

Drool, tears, precum and snot all combined run down your cheeks.

Both yours and his moans are loud enough for your neighbors to complain later.

Clark's cock twitches inside your throat, his hips jerk forward, in and out, his mind fuzzy and blank. Desperately searching for release by any means necessary, a low groan brewing in his chest.

"I love you so– nghh– so much, sweetheart" his voice is whiny, hands still grabbing hard on each side of your face.

Eyes locked with yours, you blink three times—I love you, you moan on his dick loudly, the vibration of your moan sending him into overdrive making him reach his orgasm

Your throat is painted white quickly. Your cheeks puff out with his cum, some escaping and rolling down the corner of your lips, going down his dick onto his lap and the mattress.

You swallow the rest of cum that's in your mouth, his dick softening slowly.

Still licking and sucking softly on it, electricity travels all throughout Clark's body with overstimulation. He slurs unintelligible praises softly.

When he pulls his dick out of your mouth, you get on top of his lap, legs straddling him on each side.

You grab his face forcing him to make eye contact.

When you sit down, you feel his dick hardening again, kryptonian anatomy.

You attack his mouth. kissing and sucking on his lower lip. You moan his name when you feel his hands on your ass squeezing tightly, the fabric of your skirt flipping upwards.

It's your turn to get off, you rock your hips back and forth. The contact of your clothed pussy and his unclothed cock makes both of you moan on each other's mouths.

You pull away from the kiss and grab his face, making him watch you through the mirror. "Good boy…" You smile at him.

Looking down to watch yourself grind on him, you peep his dick already leaking precum again. He helps you move also rocking his hips enough for the friction to make your already wet pussy even wetter, he whimpers your name and you kiss his neck.

You keep a fast pace, until you feel the coil in your belly tightening. Sloppy thrusts suggesting you're about to reach your orgasm.

"I'm so close baby, you've been such a good boy" Your head rests on the crook of his neck, he takes over, grinding his cock against your pussy.

You see stars, and you swear you can touch them too. You reach your orgasm just by dry humping.

Tired and overstimulated, you rest for a few minutes laying on top of him. His strong hands wrapped around your waist.

Then, he lays you down on the bed, takes off your skirt and props your legs open in front of him.

His hands go down to take off his jersey and you stop him with your foot.

"Uh-uh. Do not take that off." Your voice is low, almost a whisper, but it's firm—still commanding him. He smiles and leaves the jersey on, then goes down between your legs.

"'S my turn to taste you" His breath is hot against your core.

Your wet panties stick to your skin, he pulls them to the side and slides his tongue over your slit, all the way from your entrance to your clit. He stays there swirling his tongue around it. You moan at the sensation, your already sensitive pussy throbs and clenches around nothing.

"Tastes so good" He kisses your pussy, you moan shakily.

"Keep going, baby" Your voice is trembling and your legs are shaking, feet resting on his shoulder blades.

His tongue works on your clit as one finger stretches your entrance deliciously, stinging just a little while your pussy gets used to the intrusion.

He moves his fingers inside you; up and down, side to side, preparing you for his next finger to enter.

Two fingers inside, and he arches them just right to touch that soft gummy spot that makes your mouth hang open and your eyes flutter. Your back arches and your fingers get tangled between his soft black curls.

Your second orgasm approaches rapidly, your hands no longer rest softly on his hair now they're full-on pulling. His mouth works wonders on you, and he moans on it like he's the one being eaten out.

You arch your body into his mouth, "Clark!– fuck!" Your muscles tense up, your pupils roll to the back of your head, your mind goes numb. He grabs you by your waist, keeping you in place, his mouth still attached to your clit.

Your body shakes with overstimulation, the numbing sensation of your second orgasm makes you whimper his name repeatedly with a string of 'fuck, fuck, fuck' you pull his hair to make him face you.

Half his face was covered in saliva and your slick. He licks his lips, savoring every bit of your fluids.

"Fuck me, Clark," breathing out, "I'm ready. Please" you beg him, you need to feel him inside you.

You let go of his hair and he gives one last lick to your cunt, tongue flat against your core, drinking everything that he gathers from the motion. "You always taste so good" He takes off your panties completely now, then gets up and slides on top of you.

He kisses your neck, and suckles softly. He positions his dick in between your legs, the head pushing softly in your entrance.

A gasp catches in your throat as he pushes his cock inside slowly.

The stretch burns you, your nails scratch on his chest underneath the jersey.

"You're so tight, baby" He licks his lips, "Always perfect for me"

"Fuck, Clark," you close your eyes feeling him enter slowly, "You fuck me s-so good"

"You have such a dirty mouth" His hand grabs your neck, squeezing softly on the sides; letting you breath but pressing just enough to make your pussy clench around his dick. Earning a deep groan from Clark "You like that? You like it when I choke you?"

"Mhm- yes baby" You manage to get out

His dick goes further inside you, inch by inch until it's fully deep inside you, "Is this okay, baby?" You nod and hum, he looks down as your cunt takes his cock, "your pussy feels like heaven, sweetheart"

He starts thrusting slowly and softly first, cock hitting all the sweet spots. Then his pace gets faster, still careful, but rougher.

He takes your shirt off in one smooth motion. He presses on your lower belly, feeling his dick thump against the skin under his hand each thrust he takes. You can only moan and whimper his name.

His other hand leaves your neck and grabs on your breast, kneading it and playing with your nipple.

The room is hot with sweat and the friction of both your bodies. He uses his X-ray vision to watch his dick moving in and out inside of you, "You take me so well" He coos, "I can feel every inch of you gripping me. So, so good"

You can't even manage to get words out, just slurred mumbles and moans.

You're dizzy, and his dick hits every single part of your insides making you even dizzier.

Each thrust is hard, fast and deliberate. Balls slapping against your ass.

The sound bounces around the walls of the room plap, plap, plap.

Clark keeps spitting praises at you, he groans about how pretty you are and how well you take him—but you can't listen to a thing he says, pleasure getting to your head.

"I love watching my dick disappear inside you" he grabs your face and makes you look down at where your bodies merge together. "Look how perfectly we fit together."

His thrusts turn sloppy, desperate. His release coming closer each thrust he takes.

Your breath hitches, catching in your throat as the familiar feeling in your belly builds up for the third time, winding tighter with every movement. "'M close, Clark" You mumble.

"I know baby, me too" he hisses, squeezing your nipple between his index finger and his thumb.

The tightness of your warmth sends Clark over the edge, finally reaching his climax. He buries himself to the hilt. Every muscle in his back ripples and seizes as he spills into you. You arch into the pressure and reach your climax at the feeling of thick, rhythmic waves of his release pulsing directly against your cervix. "Fuck, Clark you're perfect"

With a sharp, breathless cry. He stays inside, still pouring his cum inside you, spilling out your entrance, staining your sheets. You whine and moan at the sensation, exhaustion and pleasure take over your body.

Clark finally pulls out, and throws himself next to you. Heavy breathing, his arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer as you lay together.

You stay laid up for a few minutes, before he eventually gets up and heads to the bathroom.

Then, comes back with a warm cloth. He cleans the combination of both your climaxes that sits between your legs and the mattress. He leaves tender kisses on your thighs.

"I've got you, just rest," he kisses again, "you don't have to move a single muscle, baby"

You just lay there, tired and dazed. Your muscles aching.

"You did so well taking me like that," He sits next to you once he's finished cleaning you up and takes off his jersey. "I might have to wash this jersey now" He folds it neatly and puts it on the nightstand.

You chuckle under your breath. He lays his head on the pillow, pulling you in closer and hugs you from behind. Leaving kisses on your shoulder and neck.

"I love you" You finally find your voice, you tangle your legs with his. He covers you with the blanket and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer.

"I love you so much more" His face lays on your neck, his hot breathing hitting your skin and you sync yours with it.

The small intimate moment is not a rare occurrence for both of you, but it's always the part you cherish the most when you have sex with him.

Your hearts beat at the same rhythm, and you're comfortable enough to relax and sleep.

Your guess is, this will be the new routine every time he puts that jersey on.

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto 💌

follow me on Ao3! @coffinlolz leave some kudos on the ao3 version!!

Likes, comments and reblogs r much appreciated. thank uuuuu for reading, my lovely🫧🎀💌

[manpossessstory]

My Horny Ghost Possessed Brother

As I push my brother onto the bed, he says to me, "Please baby bro, I want your mouth on me!"

As I kiss him down towards his cock, I say to him, "Oh come on, I think you mean baby. Hehehe"

----

Ever since I almost died choking on a huge piece of candy stuck in my throat three years ago, I have been able to see ghosts everywhere I go, and was scared at first, but now I've gotten used to it after helping them move on to the afterlife.

However, my family has no idea that I have this ability, as I had found ways to keep my ghost seeing ability a secret, such as pretending I'm on my phone, though I have wanted to tell them about this but can't find myself doing so.

----

Five Days Ago...

My brother, Jake, suddenly went to my apartment and asked if he can stay here for one night since he's really drunk and didn't want to get home yet.

"Ughh, finee you can stay here." He tried to hug me but I couldn't stand the smell of alcohol so I quickly pushed him away. I tried hard to hide my growing bulge cause his drunk sweaty self is giving me a hard on, and him opening his clothes is not helping.

I quickly went to give him water to sober up and put him on the couch to let him sleep.

---

Later that night, I was playing games on my computer after a day of working and looking to relax when I saw a shadow from the corner of my eye.

When I looked, it was a ghost clad in black floating off the floor and I doubled over, falling off my chair.

"Hahaha looks like I shocked you!"

Getting off the floor, I hesitantly asked, "Who are you?"

"Oh hey! My name's Melvin. Pleased to make your acquaintance." He bowed down exaggeratedly to me and I laughed.

He then conjured a spectral chair out of thin air and posed on it. "I've been haunting this place after I died eating a candlelit dinner with my boyfriend. I've been haunting this place since."

"Wait how come I can only see you now? I've been here for a week. And did you move my things?"

"Well," Melvin answered. "Honestly, I wanted to show myself but thought I'd have some fun. I know it's annoying to anyone, but I was a bit of a prankster in my life. Well, now the afterlife."

Just then, Jake opened the bedroom door. "Hey bro, saw that your lights are still on from under your bedroom door. Wanna eat dinner?"

Suddenly I saw Melvin float behind him. "Hey wanna see a magic trick?"

Before I can process what he meant, Melvin put his hands on Jake's back, and Jake froze in place. Melvin then pushed in deeper into Jake's back, causing his body to shake in place as more and more of Melvin gets inside him.

Eventually, Melvin's head is all that's left that's not fully inside and trying to process this, I asked, "W-what is happening?"

Before I can get an answer, Melvin's head phased into Jake's and Jake fell to the floor. Trying to wake him up, I asked, "Hey! Y-You okay?!"

Suddenly, Jake sat up and kissed me hard while touching my growing bulge. "Hi, 'bro' hehehe... or should I say, human friend..." He laughed at his own joke.

"M-Melvin? How?!"

"Well I had taken over people over the years and it was always temporary. I'd let them go and possess them again when I want to feel all the human pleasure that I've been missing."

"I know that you've had a hard on for this bro of yours."

"W-What? No!"

Looking at my growing bulge, Melvin/Jake chuckles. "Ha! You say that, but your body's reacting differently. He then kisses me hard again and takes off his clothes before falling on the bed.

"You know... with me inside, you can have all your wet dreams come true. I'm sure as your 'brother' I can help you with that hehe.. And by the way, your bro's screaming for me to leave his body."

Thinking it over, I then smiled. "Well you don't have to leave his body. I think it's a good thing you took him over. I've always wondered what it'd be like to fuck and be fucked by him hehe."

Chuckling, Jake answered, "Well then, why don't you come here and let your 'bro' fulfill you then?"

----

In the present...

Since that day, Melvin/Jake and I have had a very sexual relationship. We took turns fulfilling our respective fantasies and I have had a lot of fun doing everything with him. From playing a superhero who wanted to fuck me pretending to be his enemy to secret lover, to him being a my submissive and me his dom as part of my fantasy, our sex life has been great.

As for the real Jake? I asked Melvin and he said that Jake has been silent the last two weeks so either he accepted Melvin as the one in the driver's seat, or he's gone absorbed into Melvin since suddenly Jake has all his memories.

No matter, though, cause I get to fulfill my wish to be boyfriends with Jake with Melvin in control.