jwnsslvt - hiatus

Quickly, he pulls himself back together. “Don’t cry, sweetheart.” He coos, kissing the top your hair. “Why don’t you run a bath? I’ll order in. I can speak with Ember. I don’t want you to worry anymore than you have.”

There’s no room for argument as Corvus is walking you down the hall. He wipes your tears with his thumbs and kisses the underside of your eyes so gently a ghost might as well have done it. Corvus’ lips press against yours softly before he’s exiting the bathroom.

He makes quick work of placing an order on his phone then tosses it onto the couch before beelining to Ember’s room. He must’ve been in pretty bad shape to shake you up like that.

The knock is much gentler than the one he performed on the front door a few minutes ago. “Knock knock.”

“Who’s there…?”

“It’s me, buddy.” Corvus tries his best to mask his worry with a smile. “Can I come in?”

“No!”

“Pretty please?” It’s silent for a moment before the door is opened just a crack. The otherwise whites of Ember’s eyes are a deep red and his round cheeks are stained with dried tears. Corvus doesn’t like this at all.

Ember steps aside and wipes his face with his sleeve. “Why are you here early?”

Corvus gives a friendly smile, “I heard my little buddy was upset.” He crouches down so he’s eye level with the timid boy. “I want to make sure you’re doing okay. How was school?”

He shrugs, plopping onto his bed. “Good.”

“Yeah?” Corvus asks, scooting back so his back rests against the bed frame. “I’d love to hear more about it.”

“No, thanks.”

Corvus hums. “Sometimes, I have bad days at work,” He starts. “I get upset too. Sometimes, I just want to stop what I’m doing and come home to the people that make me happy.”

Ember is quiet for a long moment. His shoulders round forward before his eyes are watering again. “Why are you my stepdad and not my real one?”

The room falls quiet once more. The only noise to bounce off the four blue walls is the sound of Corvus' pants as he shifts uncomfortably on the hardwood floor and the soft sniffles from Ember.

"My friends say it's weird," He says just above a whisper. "That my family is weird because you're not my real dad. I don't want to be weird! I hate it!"

Corvus inhales sharply. "You are not weird. Neither is your family." He clears his throat. "How long has this been going on, hm?"

"Three days."

"You held this in for so long. I can't imagine how it felt." Corvus shakes his head, a sigh leaving his lips. "I'm sorry, Ember. You shouldn't have to hear those things from your own peers.”

The back of his head comes in contact with the soft blanket on the bed. He looks up at the pretty blue ceiling and then over at Ember. “But you’re not weird at all.”

Ember wipes his tears once again. Then, he turns his back to Corvus. Before all of his friends began teasing him, he was more than happy to have Corvus as a father figure. Now, he would do anything to be considered normal like everyone else. “It’s not fair!”

“Ember—“

“If you didn’t marry my mommy, I would be normal! My friends wouldn’t be so mean to me! It’s your fault! I hate you!”

Corvus feels a pang in his chest. He loves Ember the same any father would their own child. He’d do anything for Ember to realize those awful comments don’t take away from that very fact.

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore!”

He smiles softly, rising to his feet. It’s probably best not to push him any further tonight. He’s had a long week and kept it bottled inside. Maybe some alone time will do him good. “Okay,” Corvus reaches out and gives Ember’s shoulder a squeeze. “If you ever change your mind, I’m right here. I love you, buddy.”

~

“How’d it go?” You ask, climbing into bed beside Corvus. He seems to be deep in thought and you can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking about.

He can feel you staring. “Ember has had a long week.” Corvus explains. His large palm softly caresses the back of your head before he presses your cheek into his chest. “He says he wouldn’t get teased if we didn’t get married. Poor kid hates my guts now.”

Finally, Corvus’ smiles drops. Just remembering what Ember said and why wrenches his heart.

“He doesn’t hate you.” You try your best to assure. “You did nothing wrong, my love. Nobody has.”

“Except that pr—“

You press a soft kiss to Corvus’ lips to shush him. The topic of Ember’s father is very sensitive for him. He hates that somebody could want nothing to do with such a brilliant child. “Corvus.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He breathes out. “Do you think Ember really despises me any?

“No, of course not. Ember looks up to you so much. He wants to be just like you when he grows up, you know.” You poke the dimple in his chin. “He told me so.”

Corvus beams down at you. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” You hums softly, pressing your cheek into his chest once more. “Ember loves you, Corvus.”

“I love him, too. I just wish I could see what’s going through that bright mind of his.”

There’s a soft knock on the door and Corvus quickly reaches for the shirt he discarded earlier. Once it’s pulled over his head, you give Ember the green light to come in.

His cheeks seem stained with new tears, and his shoulders are slouched even further. He’s been crying some more, and it’s obvious.

“Mommy,” He hiccups, “‘’M sorry for being mean earlier.”

You open your arms wide and Ember rushes over to the bed to accept your embrace. He sniffles, hand still wiping at his swollen eyes. He must be exhausted. He shouldn’t have to cry so much.

“I don’t hate him.” Ember looks up at you, eyes trying their best to convey his point. It’s true; he doesn’t hate Corvus at all. He has nothing but love for Corvus. “He makes me happy, and you, too. He’s always nice to me. I don’t care what my friends say anymore. I don’t want to make people sad.”

You look at Corvus with a sympathetic glance. It’s incredible how the harsh treatment he was subjected to this week has completely been forgotten about now that he fears he’s hurt someone else. Ember has always been compassionate despite being so young.

Corvus reaches out and places a hand on Ember’s shoulder. “Ember,” His voice booms through the room, effectively pulling the boy’s attention. “I love you like you were my own. I couldn’t ask for a better son.”

“Son?” Ember looks up bashfully.

“Yes. Son. You’re the best son anyone could ever ask for.” Corvus clears his throat lowly to distract from the waver in his tone. “And I love you so much.”

Ember jumps onto the bed and into Corvus’ arms. He gives him a hug as tight as he can muster. It expresses all of the emotions he can’t comprehend yet. The hug is reciprocated with just as much love and warmth. “Love you, too! Want you to be my dad forever!”

“I’m not going anywhere, little buddy.” Corvus affirms with a strict nod. “I love you to the moon and beyond, as do I your mother.”

Ember makes himself comfortable in the space between Corvus and you, wrapping his arms around a spare pillow. He looks up at Corvus with sheer admiration. “Sleepover?”

“Sleepover.” Corvus ruffles the soft hair on his head. “Get comfy, mommy. We’ve got a guest, and he’s a big boy who needs a lot of room.”

You smile, watching the two pull the thick blanket over themselves. Your heart swells. “Do you still think your family is weird, honey?”

Ember shakes his head. “Nuh uh! I have the best mommy and daddy ever.”

Then, Corvus smiles. That has a nice ring to it.

©jwnsslvt; do not plagarize or feed into AI, ya heard?

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Zanka gasps when Jabber takes his face in a three-finger grip. His temple is kissed once, then again.

“Right?”

“Yes—“ Zanka nods, knees going weak as Jabber’s lips press into his jaw. There’s just something about Jabber’s kisses that wrap him in a blanket of warmth and want. He wants more, he craves it. Whatever he’s trying to say is muffled by his own soft cries of pleasure when Jabber’s lips come in contact with the sensitive spot just underneath his earlobe.

Jabber grins against the pulse in Zanka’s neck. His lips suck the soft skin between them, suckling deep purples and reds in their wake. His free hand slithers down Zanka’s front and unbuttons his jeans. His fingers are nudging into the pretty panties and stroking at the quivering bud between Zanka’s puffy lips. The way Zanka’s body curls into his and his hands grip onto him for any type of stability strokes him just right.

The wetness slicks his fingers deliciously. Fuck, he wants to taste Zanka again. Honestly, with the way Zanka is grinding his pussy against his hand, he doesn’t think there’s any time to even think about eating him out. Another time, surely.

full story here, ya nasty: Seeing White-Pound Cake ch.2

“Jabber,” The ache in your abdomen pulls a whine from your lips.

“Nuh uh.” Jabber drawls before inhaling a deep lungful of smoke. “Hold out for me, yeah?”

His grip on your thigh keeps you firmly in place underneath him. The view of him from down here is breathtaking. The concentration laced between his eyebrows paired with the bliss dancing along his features is enough to have your cock chubbing up once more.

You throw your head back, fingers gripping the sheets underneath you to further ground your trembling form. The stickiness on your pelvis is only slightly uncomfortable, though you’re under the impression Jabber seems to like it. Of course he would. “I can’t. ‘S too much. Too much, baby.”

Jabber hums lowly, leaning down and giving you a mischievous glare before exhaling an impressive cloud of smoke into the distance between you both.

The hand which once held your head in place now grips your face in a three-finger grip. He shines a toothy grin down at you and watches your eyes bolt shut at the sudden gesture. Then, comes the coughing fit. “I’m sure you know that makes it worse.”

Your coughs are violent and throaty. Tears prick your eyes and you pull in a deep breath of air in a failed attempt to fill your lungs with oxygen. The plowing inside of you doesn’t ease up— in fact, it seems to speed up. The headboard bangs against the wall loudly. Luckily, the distance between the houses on your block are quite great.

Wrapping your fingers around Jabber’s forearm, you blink up at the culprit of your deprivation of air. “Y-you asshole.”

Jabber shrugs, “I am what I eat, right?” He pulls out of your glistening hole only to plunge back in. The melody of his hips against you is a loud, filthy song. His movements as controlled as they are quick. You won’t admit it out loud, but Jabber is fucking good at this. “Catch your breath, baby. I gotta hit it one more time.”

You would roll your eyes if you weren’t so sensitive it hurts. His thumb caresses your jaw gently in much contrast to everything else he’s doing. It’s his way of comforting you. “Okay,” You nods subtly, “I can do it.”

“You can do it.”

*~•~*

Enjin

“Shit,” Enjin huffs out a chuckle, watching as your form trembles above his. His large palm squeezes your hip and holds you upright while he stares into the glossy orbs that are your eyes. “Just like that. Atta boy.”

You bite down on the inside of your cheek to conceal the pants and whimpers threatening to escape. Your thighs quiver around Enjin’s. How long does he expect you to keep this up?

There’s a hand on the back of your neck, then you’re pulled down so you’re just inches away from his face. His eyes are low and a soft red hue. His yellow irises stare back into yours. You’d shy away if you weren’t fucking yourself to another orgasm in his lap.

“That’s it. Like taking that dick, don’t you?” The corner of his mouth lifts. “Yeah, you do. Look at you, already so eager for another nut.”

You retreat into the crook of his neck. “Enjin!” He’s so fucking vulgar, and what for?

“Aw, I’m sorry. C’mere.” Enjin kisses your cheek before biting down on your bottom lip. “Say ahh.”

His hips snap against you, jostling your body above him much quicker than it was previously. Your fingers dig into the couch to ground yourself. Without a second thought, you part your lips.

A thick cloud of smoke invades your space. Immediately, you flinch and let out a cough. One turns to another then another. It had come in contact with your eyes which caused you to bolt them shut.

Enjin doesn’t allow you to catch your breath before he’s thrusting back into your sensitive, spent body. His fingers grip your jaw, “Look at me, baby.”

So you do. Your chest rises and falls heavily, still singed from the smoke.

“Catch your breath. We still have the rest of the night.”

©️jwnsslvt; do not plagiarize or feed into AI, ya heard?

jwnsslvt: I like how your brain works, Anon! Thank you for the request, and I hope it is to your satisfaction!

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