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highvern · 2 months

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Rough

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: Cheol’s hands, fingering, spitting, minor pain kink, pussy slapping, teasing/begging, thick dick cheol, unprotected sex, creampie, minor breeding kink, mating press, soft(ish) dom Cheol, strength kink, he’s wearing a watch and his chain, praise

Length: ~2k

Note: an ode to Cheol's hands, and his c*** i needed a cigarette while looking at pictures of his hands for this fic. everyone rot with me @gyuswhore @wonustars @ourdawnishotterthanourday @seokgyuu

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

The lights of the TV illuminate you and your boyfriend’s intertwined forms resting on the sofa. Seungcheol’s hands busy themselves, fingers digging into the sore cords of muscle twisted along your legs. He thinks nothing of it, focused on the drama unfolding on screen while you focus on the cool metal of his watch licking just above your knee.

He smiles when you jump, the tickle of his fingers sending bubbling laughter into the space between you.

“What?” He asks, as if he doesn't have all your weak spots committed to memory.

“Nothing.” you mumble.

“Want me to stop?”

A shake of your head is the only reply Seungcheol needs before he pins your flailing limbs and goes about his business once again.

His hands always feel incredible. They’re always warm, always gentle despite what lurks beneath the surface. And they’re always on you, in some way or another.

The roughness of his palm or dig of his fingers are second nature after years of them glued to your body. Whether they’re holding you close or stroking across your cheek as he wakes you with sweet kisses. Heating the small of your back while he guides you in a crowd, or tangled with your own as he whispers his deepest secrets into the dark late at night. You love every part of him but his hands show you a million different ways he feels the same.

You try not to react as he massages up your thighs, the sinew of muscles seizing before they melt under his careful ministrations.

Every sigh through your nose is a tell Seungcheol is well accustomed to; what you like and what you love. Because he knows you like when he focuses on the curve of your quad, or the meat of your calves until they’re putty.

But you love when he pushes his hand under your oversized shirt and stretches the muscles deeper inside until you vibrate with want.

“You’re not watching the movie.” He whispers into your ear, nose following the curve of your jaw to the place he knows drives you wild.

“I'm a little distracted right now.”

And just like that the thick fingers stuffed in your cunt freeze before retreating. You can’t close your thighs to stop it due to the hand pinning your leg down to his lap with bruising force. But he can’t prevent your free leg from kicking in protest as you beg him to stay.

Seungcheol pinches the inside of your thigh until it stings, “Stop.”

You know that tone. It’s the one that warns you if you keep going, you won’t get what you want; what you need. Seungcheol isn’t a stingy lover but he likes to play and this is his newest game. If you can play along long enough he’ll make it worth your while.

“Eyes on the TV.”

With a harsh swallow you turn back to the screen. Once your boyfriend is sure you won’t look away, his hand returns, three fingers stretching you at a snail's pace. When he’s worked them all in, no longer cautious of your initial discomfort, he stops; focused on curling up against that spot he’s always found with embarrassing ease; pressing until your legs shake and you actually do start dripping into his lap. If it wasn’t for the fabric of your shirt, he could see everything.

The hand on your thigh joins in, the pad of his finger drawing rough circles of your clit. It’s fast and it's dirty but you keep pretending to watch the TV while Suengcheol does as he wants. Your mind is so numb you don’t even realize he’s pushed away the blanket and ruched your shirt up your hips to leave you bare. Not until you hear him spit and feel it land on your exposed clit framed between his fingers.

“Fuck,” you whimper, nails digging into the upholstery. “Please.”

But he’s not done yet. A swift slap to your pussy sends stars in your eyes and your body ten feet in the air if not for the man forcing you in place.

“Just relax, baby.”

You try. And Seungcheol respects your effort because every muscle he worked into submission over the past ten minutes jumps alive under your skin but you sit still in his lap and take what he gives you like he knows you can.

He kisses your cheek before whispering, “I love you.”

Each word burns into your skin, licks through your blood. He loves you, and you love him and all he wants to do is take care of you. So you try and let him even if it means madness.

Seungcheol watches you pretend to watch the movie once again, but your mind focuses on the sound of debauchery echoing between your thighs. If you looked down you know what you’d see. The way your pussy clings to his fingers with every stroke out, how they glisten with your arousal, every squeeze; everything.

All the teasing is enough to make your eyes gloss. Especially when he adds a fourth finger and tells you how perfect you are, how you were made for him, and if you cum right now he’ll give you his cock but you have to earn it.

You want to feel his lips suck around your clit until you're nothing more than an empty shell but you’ll happily settle for the swipes of his fingers. It’s obscene how wet you are and how loud your ruined cunt is over the blasting speakers.

“C’mon pretty girl,” he coos into your ear. “Come for me.”

The coil winds and winds until it snaps. All the edges ripple, the world blurs. Every breath hurts from the punch in your stomach forcing bolts of electricity through your nerves.

And Seungcheol doesn’t stop. He keeps going until you’re crying. Only to kiss away each tear with praise and soft lips. You barely crack your eyes open, watching his fingers disappear between his lips, sucking away the mess before he gives you a taste on his mouth.

Eyes shut and boneless in his arms, you let him push and pull you just the way he wants. Your body’s only protest in the exhaustion Seungcheol’s fucked into you with his hands. But it’s not enough to keep you from taking him again.

It never is.

When the jostling stops, you find him kneeling before you. He hasn't bothered to remove his clothes, or yours. Just forces your shirt over your breasts and his pants down until he's bare. Thick thighs frame an equally thick cock you know like the back of your hand.

If your boyfriend thinks you’re beautiful then he is other worldly in the glow of the LED screen.

Hands anchored on the back of your knees, you spread out for his eyes only. Seungcheol’s mouth waters at your wrecked pussy, soaked and swollen from his attention, begging to be split on his cock. The drooling tip of his length taps against your clit, sending you deeper into the spiral, each nudge making your muscles twitch until he uses his thumb to catch on your opening and force himself through the mind numbing clench.

Seungcheol goes slow, pressing forward only a millimeter at a time, barely giving you a taste before he pulls back and starts again. If the way you’re positioned didn’t prevent you from rushing him forward than the fist around his cock would as he teases you until you're begging and he’s puffing up with pride at how desperate you are.

Just when you think he’s ready to give in, almost flat against one another, he pulls out.

“I sweat to fucking god if you don’t fu—ckkkkkkk,”

Sheathed to the base in your heat Seungcheol finds paradise, dick twitching with every breath. The rough skin of his palms circle your ankles, spreading them up and out of the way so he can lean forward and give you what you want; your pussy stretched to the brim on his cock while he fucks every last thought out of your head.

“Move.” You mewl, barely human, shaking under his weight.

Settling your legs over his shoulders, he folds you in half, freeing the hands you love so much to do as he pleases. One lands just above your head to keep him from completely crushing you and the other cradles your jaw, thumb brushing across your lower lip before he meets you with a kiss.

His tongue glides against your own, fucking your mouth as his hips curl in time. Every thrust forward forces the air in your lungs up your throat to be swallowed by your boyfriend. He strokes you to life, pinned in place, helpless, glowing.

Seungcheol groans as he fucks you harder. “Fuck, you take it so well.”

You're shaking, vibrating from the synapses firing through every inch of your being. Chin dipped, you watch him wreck you, creaming around the base of his length like he’s fucked you for hours rather than minutes.

You’ll come like this, without any pressure on your clit; just the delicious drag of his thick cock in your walls, crushed under his weight and entirely at his mercy. Helpless Seungcheol latches his hand you yours, intertwines your fingers, and cants against like he’s possessed.

Eyes rolled as you go limp, you reach for his face and whimper into his mouth, climbing higher and higher until you hit the ceiling. Your hands are everywhere, anywhere in reach as you fail to ground yourself against the wave of pleasure rolling through your veins. And it all shatters with a whimper of his name.

He’s perfect and he’s yours and you don’t know what you did to earn him but you know you could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve him.

You try to break through the noise. But it just serves to make things worse because the only thing the man on top you likes to see more than you desperate for him is you coming on his cock. The arm above your head collapses, sending all of his weight on you, forcing him deeper into your guts until you can taste him on the back of your tongue. The wet clap of his balls against your ass with each rut forward rockets you into the deep end.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Seungcheol bites into your jaw. “That’s it. That’s my girl. Fuck, you’re so good. So good.”

It’s blinding, eyes cinched so tight fireworks float in the darkness; Seungcheol’s moans blending with the rush of blood fleeing your brain. He’s feral with the satisfaction of your orgasm, how you wail beneath him like your neighbors won’t hear and know you have a man who pleases you in every way imaginable. Like you want everyone to know his name.

“Cheol,” you whisper, all breath. So quiet he wouldn’t hear you if he wasn’t dialed into your every move. “Want…” you pant. “Want you…”

Seungcheol presses as deep as he can before letting go; stuffing you with his cum, grinding into your pussy with every jerk of his cock until it spills around where he splits you and slips down your ass.

His eyes never leave yours, watching you take every drop of his affection like you were made to. Like he was the one made to give it to you. Even with your thrashing, you never look away.

A final pathetic noise scratches the inside of your throat when he’s done. Seungcheol won’t pull out but he will pull away, yearning to see the mess between your bodies. Cum and arousal smears your bellies, your thighs, the base of his cock still inside you. Eventually he'll pull you up to wash off and you have no doubt the cushion will be beyond repair.

When he’s had his fill, he collapses into your chest, arms twine around your back as he kisses you with every ounce of devotion he can spare. Until you can feel his love down to the tips of your toes and through every last cell in your body.

And because showing you isn’t enough, he tells you again and again while he fills you once more in the comfort of your shared bed.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

#ksmutsociety #kvanity #svthub #choi seungcheol #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt smut #🫡 highvern

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morganski-19 · 16 days

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Eddie was still in the coma, attached to so many tubes it made Wayne sick to look at sometimes. But they were keeping him alive, so he’ll manage. They were making sure he got to see his boy awake again.

There was still a metal cuff that was attached to his wrist. The other end attached to the bar of the hospital bed. As if he could spring up at any moment and just escape. When he’s been half dead for days. When Wayne hasn’t seen his eyes open since before Eddie went into hiding.

He hasn’t seen his boy for over a full week. Even though he’s been lying there on the bed for the last few days. Eddie won’t be back with Wayne until he wakes up. If he wakes up.

Everyday Wayne’s been here in between his shifts. Can’t afford to take the days off, with having to get a new place and all. Part of his paycheck’s paying for the hotel room he’s staying in while trying to find somewhere new to live. Even the abandoned houses are too pricy, and the trailer park’s in shambles.

Honestly, if he could, he’d be pulling as many doubles as possible just to get a new place and soon. But that would mean not being here. Might miss when he wakes up. Wayne doesn’t want to miss that.

It’s not like he’s lonely here either. There’s been other visitors. The kid that Eddie always talked about from his dungeon game. The one that he secretly liked above the rest of the freshmen. His bandmates came by once, looking guilty as hell when they did. They haven’t been back since.

There’s been a few other people Wayne hasn’t recognized. A few more kids from the club, some he didn’t even know Eddie knew. But they always came to check in before heading across the hall to see the boy there. The Harrington boy.

Wayne recognized it was him one day when the door was left open. He was asleep, with an IV in his arm along with some other cords. Not as many as his boy, but still there. There was a girl in there too, short brown hair and wearing a baggy jacket with some patches. She was holding his hand. It never seemed like she let it go.

The same girl checked in on Eddie a few times. Tried to make small talk with Wayne but left when she realized he was disinterested. Always heading back to the Harrington boy.

All he knew is that they both came in at the same time. Got admitted one after the other, but Wayne didn’t know what order. That they both had to go through some type of surgery to deal with the injuries. Though he hears Harrington’s was more cosmetic than anything. Eddie’s was to save his life.

Not that he’s judging. People could do whatever they wanted for all he cared. There were different doctor’s for different things. Priorities and all that. He just hoped that Harringotn wasn’t higher up on the list than Eddie was. Eddie was clearly the one in the worst condition.

The kid that kept visiting Eddie went over there a lot too. Dustin, is the kid’s name. Wayne can’t remember it half the time, he’s too busy focusing on something else. And just bone tired. But after Dustin sits next to Wayne for a while, updates Eddie on everything that’s happened that day, sometimes reads to him, he heads right across the hall and does it all again. Every single time.

Wayne has no clue how this boy could possibly be close with both Eddie and the Harrington kid. It’s not like they were in the same circles. Or seemed to remotely like each other at all. Wayne can explicitly remember the Harrington boy being apart of one of Eddie’s hate filled rampages. But if he’s remembering right, there was something different that really pissed Eddie off about him. Something that’s wrapped up in the same reason Wayne’s never seen Eddie bring a girl home.

But day after day, Dustin goes to Steve’s room after stopping by Eddie. Wayne can see why Eddie liked Dustin. He’s loud and dramatic just like Eddie. Likes the same game, same books, even starting to like the same music. But Dustin and the Harrington boy. He doesn’t get it.

Until he’s walking down the hall to get a cup of coffee and hears it. The bickering that leads into laughter. Snippy comments about something filled with inside jokes. Suddenly it all makes sense. They almost seem like brothers.

It’s a few more days until Wayne meets the Harrington boy himself. A nurse coming to check Eddie’s vitals leaves the door open on accident. Harrington peaks through when he’s on a walk down the hallway.

“Why is he handcuffed?” is the first thing Wayne hears from the kid. Voice filled with anger.

Before Wayne can get annoyed at explaining the whole situation to another stranger, explain how he knows his boy is innocent, the nurse is yelling at him.

“You can’t be in here, sir.”

“I don’t give a shit. Why is he handcuffed? He didn’t do anything wrong.”

Wayne is surprised that he’s not the one making the case this time. Somehow, this kid he’s never met believes his nephew is innocent. Just like he does.

The nurse snaps her folder shut, walking up to Steve and waving for help through the door. “That is private information. Go back to your room before you’re forced to.”

Steve rolls his eyes with a snarl, undoing the buttons on the front of his hospital shirt. “He didn’t give me these. He didn’t kill those kids. I know, I was there.” He begins to pull back the bandages, revealing scarred, mauled skin that looks just like Eddies. The nurse scolds him to stop. “He’s innocent, so why is he handcuffed to the bed?”

“He is still a suspect and deemed dangerous. Now get back to your room.”

More another nurse grabs Steve’s arm to try and pull him to his room. He shakes it off.

“Dangerous,” his voice raises. “He’s been in a coma for days and you think he’s dangerous. What is he going to do, pop up out of bed like he hasn’t been fucking asleep for days and almost died just to run away? He couldn’t do that if he tried.”

Security gets involved now, physically pushing Steve out of the doorway. The nurse shuts the door to Eddie’s room, cutting Wayne off from seeing it. She apoligized for the intrusion and gets back to checking on Eddie.

“He’s right, you know,” Wayne says, still hearing the noise from the hall. “My boy didn’t do nothin’ wrong. Can’t escape even if he tried. Or attack anyone for that matter. He’s been through enough, he doesn’t need to wake up to a cuff around his wrist.”

The nurse purses her lips, strained. “This is from above me, sir. But if the news is true, the cuffs are staying on.”

When the nurse opens the door again, the hall is clear.

The next time Wayne sees Harrington is when he leaves for the day. Only able to fall asleep so many times in a shitty hospital chair before needing to go home. Security presses for him to stay in his room, warning him.

“Just going to make a fucking phone call. I’m allowed to do that right?” When the security guard crosses his arms, the kid hits him with, “Don’t want me to get my dad involved, do you? Isn’t he one of the main donors for this hospital? Be such a shame if he stopped.”

Wayne almost laughs when the security guard moves out of the way. Harrington giving him the finger with a smirk as he walks down the hall to the payphone.

Maybe Eddie and the Harrington kid had more in common than Wayne thought.

now with a part 2

#might be a part two for this idk yet #wayne munson #eddie munson #steve harrington #dustin henderson #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #post season 4 #pre steddie

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deathc-re · 2 months

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you hate getting sick, who doesn't? but a part of you loves it at the same time. why? because your boyfriend always treats you so good.

he'll dote on you hand and foot. you want tea? he knows just the one. you want noddles? steaming bowl in front of you. you're too hot or cold? thermostat adjusted to the perfect temperature for you, forget him.

you wanna be close to him, be held and cuddled? anything for his sweetheart. but...what about when you're horny? when this cold/ fever takes you over right in the middle of your ovulation? it's anything for his baby, and that includes slowly torturing himself while you cock warm him under the covers. you're body basically burning up, hot to the touch against his cool skin. moans and whimpers escaping you from the aches and pains in your body but also from the feeling of his cock filling you so good.

you're so weak and tired, basically in and out of consciousness but your dripping all over him and squeezing him so tight.

when he catches that your awake again he rubs your back slowly, "baby," he breathes "can i move? please? you just- fuck-- you feel so good i can't take it."

you muster up a weak chuckle and nod your head, wrapping your arms around him tighter. slowly he switches your position, moving you onto your chest and places a pillow under your hips. the loss of him and the blanket made you whine but when he pushed back into you, you melted into the bed.

it felt like every touch to your body was heightened. your fingers gripped the sheets weakly as you arched further into the soft bed. you heard your lover moan but you were too focused on your own body, every drag of his dick along your walls felt like heaven. when he reached down to rub on your clit a jolt ran through you.

before long you were seeing stars, tired body even more tired as you gasped and whimpered into the sheets, a drool pool forming by your mouth.

your boyfriend, oh so loving, restrained every muscle in his body to keep at this pace. the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. but you felt like heaven, warm walls wrapped around him so tight, your noises, the look of pleasure and daze on your face.

he gripped your ass and leaned down to nip at your ear, "i'm sorry sweetheart but i have to go fast-" he was cut off by your quick nod, reaching a hand back to grip his wrist. just that action made him twitch.

he gripped you tighter and angled his hips upward, speeding up his pace just a bit but increased the force of this thrusts by a lot. your ass shock in waves every time his pelvis met you. like energy was being pushed into you your moans got louder, more urgent, the cord in your belly tightening.

you both came almost exactly at the same time, heavy breathing filling the room. you were out, sprawled onto the bed, barely awake. your lover chuckled at the scene and leaned down to kiss your temple.

"you want a bath my love? i'll make the water extra hot for you." he called while walking to the bathroom. you hummed a response and curled into yourself, drifting off. the warm cum running down your thigh barely registering in your mind.

FAT GUM, aizawa, DEKU, kirishima, sanji, corazon, connie, gojo, CHOSO, geto, SUGAWARA + whoever else you think

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lovergojo · 4 months

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WHAT AM I, YOUR CHAUFFEUR?

summary: In which you sit in the backseat of your lover’s car, instead of right next to them.

characters: SATORU, SUGURU, MAKI, MEGUMI

cw: kissing, reader referred to as passenger princess in Suguru’s other than that no pronouns are mentioned, POC friendly, no skins tones mentioned!

SATORU

Picture this: you park in the parking lot of your local mall. You’re here to pick up your wonderful lover after shopping. As you sit and wait, suddenly familiar hands wrap around you and cover your mouth and you’re stabbed in the chest.

This is basically what Gojo Satoru feels like when you get in the backseat of his car instead of your spot, which is right next to him in the front passenger seat.

“You might as well as kill me.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “Satoru.”

“Be honest, do you even love me?” He turns around in his seat, his cerulean eyes peeking over the rims of his glasses.

“Satoru-“

“No, no, it’s fine, I’m fine, I mean we’ve only been dating for 3 years and it’s fine if you want to throw it all away because you’re practically saying you don’t love me right now!” He’s voice grows louder until he’s practically shrieking, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Okay! I’m sorry!” You quickly get out of the car trying to hide your smile. You open the car door and get in and look over at Satoru to find him beaming at you.

“Oh hi baby!” He says way too happily and leans over to kiss you on the lips. Again. And again. And again.

“…Hello ‘Toru, how was your day today?”

“It was great, until my lover decided to stab me in the back.”

Yeah, don’t expect him to forget about this. He will bring it up to you no matter what

“Toru, what do you want for dinner?”

“To not be stabbed in the heart by my lover.”

No matter what.

SUGURU

After fitting all of your groceries into the trunk Suguru’s trunk, he helps you close it and you both get into the car. Except you sit in the back seat.

Suguru didn’t even realize you were sitting back there, he was still just waiting for you to get in the front seat, and when you didn’t he turned towards you curiously.

“You’re gonna sit back there?”

“Yeah.”

“Not in the front seat?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“…Yeah?”

He hums and shrugs his shoulders and says, “Okay then, I guess you don’t want to be my passenger princess and use the aux cord huh?”

And that has you quickly sitting up and getting out of the backseats to sit next to Suguru in the front seat, who had a smile on his face the whole time.

“Changed your mind huh?”

“Shush.” And you lean over to kiss him on the cheek as an apology.

He grins at you before pulling out of the parking lot, one hand on the wheel, and the other intertwined with yours as they rest on the center console.

MAKI

Maki holds your hand as you guys cross the road from the restaurant you too stoped at for a date.

As you two approach the car, she goes to the passenger side to open the door for you, only for you to ignore the open door and open car door to the back seats.

You don’t have to look up to see the narrow look she gives you, before going over to you and standing outside the open car door.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Your eyes wide at her stern tone.

“Getting in the car?”

All it takes is for Maki to keep staring at you before you slowly get out of the back seat and and close the door before facing her and trying to cuddle up to her.

“So now you wanna be cute?” She says with a raised eyebrow.

“Aren’t I always cute?” You look up at her with a smile and she clicks her tongue before rolling her eyes and wrapping a hand around your waist before planting a sweet kiss on your lips

“You are. Bratty, but you are.”

You laugh and she smiles at you before guiding you back to your seat, which is right next to her.

MEGUMI

Megumi waits in the car as you say goodbye to Yuji and Nobara after watching Human Earthworm 4, which Megumi has no idea why it even exists in the first place, so he opted out to save himself from the horrible sight of that god awful worm thing.

Megumi is so focused on how pretty you look with the sun hitting you perfectly, that he doesn’t even realize that you’re sitting in the backseat until he sees you passing by the door to the front passenger seat.

You buckle yourself in and smile at Megumi nonchalantly.

“Hi ‘Gumi, how was your day?”

He freezes, staring right at you with a frown on his face.

“Good…what are you doing back there?”

“Hm? I thought I’d sit here this time.”

“Why though?” He questions, he looks to the empty front seat next to him. There’s no trash in the seat, and nothing on the floor too. Was the seat to far back?

“No reason.” You have a hard time hiding your smile because of the constipated look on Megumi’s face. He looks so focused on trying to find out why you won’t sit next to him, you accidentally let out a laugh and he’s whipping his head towards you and sees you smiling, before he lets out a groan.

This time, you let your laugh flow out freely from your lips and your moving to get into the front passenger seat, leaning over the center console you kiss Megumi all over his face.

“Sorry ‘Gumi, don’t be mad okay?” You say, still smiling into his cheek.

“Hmph.”

note: FIRST TIME WRITING FOR MAKI AHHH SO EXCITED AND DO YOU GUYS LIKE THE NEW BLOG THEME?? IT’S CUTE RIGHT???

#gojo x reader #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru x reader #maki zenin #maki x reader #maki x you #maki zenin x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro x reader

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thespectralcottage · 4 months

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Witchcraft 101:

Cleansing vs Uncrossing vs Banishing

Alright witches. Lets dive into some witchy basics and discuss the differences between cleansing, uncrossing and banishing. This will hopefully help you differentiate between them. But.. lets be honestly if you do something like call a spell an uncrossing when "technically" doing a banishing, who cares its all in good spirit. The reason i think its good to have a difference in mind between these falls into how you handle a spell. If I'm doing an uncrossing vs a banishing i would choose different spell ingredients, maybe work with different gods, or choose a different element to work with.

Cleansing: I consider cleansings as the foundation and most basic of these. Its almost an umbrella term the other two fall under. All banishings are cleansings, but not all cleansings are a banishing. Cleansings are when you're trying clear something away. Most often people will use this term in day to day workings and general upkeep to make sure nothing has stuck to them. This would include more casual things like smoke cleansing, showering and asking the water to cleanse you, sound cleansing, etc. Its not a full spellworking or ritual, but still done with energy and intention. Sometimes you may do a cleansing and realize whatever is there, is stuck deeper then you expected. So you take the next steps and do a more "intense" cleansing like an uncrossing or banishing.

Uncrossing Spells: Uncrossing specifically refers to removing unwanted energy. Usually when discussing what is an uncrossing, I sperate it from just a cleansing by describing it as a very intense cleansing where you're trying to strip away intense and specific energy. These are more work and a step up from an everyday cleansing for more intense scenarios. This is very spirit focused; think of it as taking out the bad and putting in the good. Some types of spells I would consider an uncrossing are: removing hexes/jinx/curses, removing the evil eye, spiritual detoxes, road openers, removing any stubborn energy, removing feelings, etc. I associate uncrossings with water: it's soaking in and getting that energy out. I would choose herbs/spell ingredients that are uplifting and purifying. Think salt, rosemary, rue, and lemons.

Banishing Spells: Banishing spells remove unwanted entities, spirits or people. You can use it to get rid of very deep rooted things like habits or insecurities. Banishings are quite a strong forms of spellwork. You're really kicking something out and away from you when you do a banishing. Its connected to more deep rooted things that you're trying to remove from your life. Some types of spells I could consider a banishing: cord cutting, exorcisms, banishing a spirit attached to you, getting rid of insecurities, freezers, etc. I associate banishings with fire. Burn and gtfo. I would choose herbs that have more of a kick to them and are defensive. Think nettle, blackberry leaves, cloves, even pepper in some cases.

Please note this doesn't have to be something strict. Like i said at the beginning this is just a guide that will help you differentiate so you can tackle the spellwork as effectively as possible.

✨Stay Spooky ✨

#witchblr #pagan witch #witchcraft #witchythings #witch #the spectral cottage #spellwork #witch tips #Banishing #Cleansing #Uncrossing #Spell Tips #grimoire #book of shadows #witchy how to #baby witch #beginner friendly

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strang3lov3 · 9 months

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Cup of Sugar

Dilf!neighbor!joel x fem reader (pre outbreak)

Summary: You often borrow from your neighbor, Joel. He catches you in his home, digging through his belongings for batteries when your vibrator dies.

WC: 4.5k

Warnings: Smut!! Dirty talk, smug joel, masturbation, blowies, vibrators, unprotected piv, joel is fully clothed and reader is butt ass naked! Soft!dom joel vibes

AN: Dedicated to all my faves, @notjustjavierpena, @macfrog, @gracieispunk, @toxicanonymity and @speckledemerald i love all y’all with my entire heart<3

Please comment/reblog if you enjoyed ❤️

The ceiling fan needs to be fixed. You’ve been meaning to get that taken care of. It’s the first thing you think of on Saturday morning, when you wake up in your bed to the sound of lawn mowers and weed whackers. A gentle breeze comes from your open window and ghosts over your skin, reminding you to get your ceiling fan fixed.

Saturdays were often your busiest days. Between cleaning, grocery shopping, and getting ready to go out for drinks with your friends, you don’t have much time for just you. Which, arguably, is what weekends should be for.

You get out of bed and start getting ready for the day. You shower, get dressed, do your hair and your makeup just how you like. You feed your pets and you’re out the door to take on this beautiful Saturday.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see someone waving good morning to you. It’s Joel, wearing nothing except for his grass stained jean cutoffs as he mows his lawn. His dark curls are damp and stuck to his forehead, his torso shimmers in the sunlight. You catch a glimpse of his soft tummy and the thin line of hair leading down from his navel.

You nearly faint right then and there. Joel’s your ridiculously sexy dilf of a next door neighbor. You’ve been absolutely smitten with him for what feels like eternity, and his slutty lawn mowing outfits are not helping you one bit.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he calls to you after turning off his mower. “Big plans today?”

“Grocery shopping,” you reply plainly, trying to keep your cool. You don’t want to say much and trip over your words. God, he makes your knees buckle. “And chores. Then going out to drink with a few friends.”

He nods. “Stay outta trouble,” he tells you with a charming wink, and then he pulls the cord of his mower and begins working on his lawn again. You watch his back muscles twitch and shine in the hot sun, his plump ass filling his shorts just right.

Fuuuck. You’re nearly salivating at the sight. He’s gonna be an issue again today.

And an issue he was.

At the grocery store, you walk past the lawn mowers and other yard work supplies. Joel. You scan your groceries and check out, and you just know you’re forgetting something.

At home, washing your bedding. You can’t help but wonder how his bedding looks, how it would smell and feel with your face pressed into the mattress as he pounds you from behind. Does he keep his bed neatly made? Messy?

At the bar, watching the drops of condensation slide down the glass. You’re thinking of the way Joel looks with beads of sweat dripping down his face, down the dip of his temple and the sharp curve of his jaw. Your friends are trying to talk to you, but your mind is elsewhere. The condensation pools at the table under the glass.

As the night finally draws to a close, you drive yourself home. It’s late, most of the lights are off in the neighborhood, including Joel’s. You walk into your home, toss your keys on the end table by your door and make your way to your bedroom.

You’re aching between your thighs, your skin feels hot and your mind is focused on just one thing. You strip bare and flop on your bed, reaching for your hot pink bunny eared vibrator. Ol’ reliable.

Usually, you like to take your time with your self-love. Tease yourself a little, build up that anticipation. Joel’s done that enough to you today, so you get right to business. With your legs spread wide, you turn the vibrator on and press the toy to your center, using it to spread your arousal up to your clit and back down again.

Maybe two minutes in, just as you find the perfect spot and the perfect pace, and then the whine of the vibrator begins dying down. You let out an incoherent stream of obscenities as you realize what’s happening, then the vibrator’s buzzing finally comes to a heartbreaking stop. “Fuck,” you hiss. Batteries.

You’re irked. You fucking knew you were forgetting something at the store. And you’d think the way you were fantasizing of Joel all day, you would have remembered to pick up the fucking batteries for your vibrator. He is the object of your affection, after all.

You have extras stashed, don’t you? You open your bedside table drawer to check and…nothing. Maybe in the closet downstairs, where you keep your cleaning supplies and first aid stuff? You throw on your robe real quick and check. Nope. You slam the door, irate with frustration.

You’re getting desperate now, and out of the corner of your eye you notice a dim green light, flashing gently. The smoke alarm. That has to have batteries you can steal for a little while, right? It’s not like it’s preventing you from dying in a house fire or anything. You grab a stool and unscrew the alarm from the top of the ceiling and, and,

It has batteries.

But they’re nine volts. Not even close to the triple A’s you require.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. You need to calm down. Women have fingers for a reason, after all. But god bless it, it’s not the fucking same!

In the dark of your kitchen, you get yourself a glass of water and stare out the window at Joel’s house. And as you take a sip of water, it hits you.

Joel probably has batteries.

You slip on your flip flops and leave your house, heading over to Joel’s backdoor.

Are you about to break and enter into his home? No, of course not. That would be absurd. You have a key, duh.

It started with a cup of sugar.

Once, you had knocked on Joel’s door asking to borrow a cup of sugar for the sheet cake you were making for the neighborhood barbecue. You, ever so forgetful, had failed to remember to pick up sugar on that particular grocery shopping trip.

Joel left and returned moments later with a large container full of sugar, way more than a cup. You were expecting a baggie with a single cup of sugar inside, not the whole bin. Men, you thought. You thanked him and promised to give his sugar back soon. You never did.

The next time, it was eggs. You knocked on Joel’s door, but were met with no answer. So you called him.

“Hey, what’s up sugar?” Your heart swelled at the nickname. It’s what Joel teasingly called you when you never returned his bin full of sugar, not that he really minded. “Just need a favor. Are you home?”

“Maybe,” he said. “What do you need?”

“Just like, three eggs for the cupcakes tomorrow,”

After trying your delicious sheet cake, Joel was hooked. He had asked you to make cupcakes for Sarah’s birthday, strawberry with vanilla frosting. You had all the ingredients except for a few eggs, and you didn’t feel like running all the way across town for them.

Joel exaggerated a groan, faking annoyance. “Those are my last eggs, you know. Am I gonna have to starve at breakfast tomorrow morning?” You let out a giggle at his dramatics. “It’s your breakfast or your daughter’s cupcakes, Joel,”

“Cupcakes,” he decided. You could hear the smile in his voice. “Take the eggs. S’all good, sugar. I’ll have toast.”

You were about to speak, but Joel interrupted. “Won’t be home for a while. Help yourself, just use the key I gave ya. Happy baking, sugar,”

Joel had given you a key long ago. If he was ever in a pinch working late, he’d call you and ask you to babysit Sarah for him. He gave you a key so you could help yourself inside to make her an after school snack or dinner before she got home. Not that Sarah really needed the help, being so self sufficient. But he liked knowing you were there to take care of her when he wasn’t.

“Bye, Joel,”

And that was your neighborly routine. Babysitting Sarah, borrowing different things from Joel. A flashlight or a screwdriver. Ice, when your freezer broke. Sarah and Joel would borrow from you too, a pair of scissors or a hot glue gun for school projects. Once, they had borrowed your printer late at night when Sarah forgot she had a history paper due the next morning. It’s what neighbors are for, after all.

At Joel’s door with his key in your hand, you jiggle it into the doorknob and quietly open the door, careful not to let it creak too loud. You don’t want to wake up Sarah or Joel.

You tiptoe through his house, first to his living room. You check the drawer of one of his end tables, nothing. Then the entertainment center where he keeps his video game controllers and such, surely he would keep batteries there too? Nope. You close the doors of the entertainment center and make your way to the kitchen. As quietly as you can you open his junk drawer next to the sink and begin moving items around. There’s a phone book, notecards, pens and pencils. The scissors you lent to Sarah. But no fucking batt-

“What are you doin’ riflin’ through my shit at this ungodly hour?” You jump as a voice interrupts you. You stand up straight and turn your head to the source of the sound, and it’s Joel. His hair is messy and sticking up six ways from Sunday, his soft gray sweatpants hang low on his hips and his thin t-shirt hugs his biceps just so. He’s got one eyebrow cocked, half in amusement and half in annoyance.

“I just need to borrow something. I'll be out in a second. Didn’t mean to wake you Joel, I’m sorry,” you apologize. You curse yourself for being so noisy, but you can’t help it. You’re frantic for these fucking batteries.

Joel steps down the stairs. “What do you need so badly right now?”

“Just some batteries,” you mumble.

“Batteries?” Joel asks. “The fuck do you need batteries so bad for it can’t wait til’ morning?”

You didn’t think this far ahead. You were expecting to find the batteries and just go, not be interrogated by Joel. But you know you’re not in a place to argue.

“Uhh,” you start, “Flashlight. I need triple A’s.”

Joel just nods quietly, his eyes are droopy with sleepiness and he walks to a kitchen cabinet, the one containing different odds and ends. You see the box of batteries and he reaches to pull a few out for you, but then pauses before handing them to you. “Wait a minute. Thought you didn’t have one. S’why you’re always stealin’ my flashlight,”

“Yeah, sorry. I meant the remote,” Smooth.

“Mmm,” Joel murmurs, rotating the batteries in his hand. He’s staring you down, taking you all in. Your eyes are wide, your cheeks are flushed, your hair is messy. You’re wearing just a robe, and he’s sure there’s nothing underneath. Your voice is shaking, your breathing is loud and unsteady.

“Come on Joel, I’m missing my show. Please,”

Joel doesn’t give you the batteries yet, he just keeps playing with them in his hand. It’s distracting, the way his fingers move so deftly. He bites his cheek and raises his eyebrows at you. He knows exactly why you’re so flustered, and he suspects it’s the same reason you need batteries at the fucking dead hour.

“What show?”

“What?”

“I asked what show you’re watching tonight,”

You swallow thickly, your brain is racing as you try to think up a lie. “X-Files,”

“Hm. Who’s your favorite character?”

Damn. Ask more questions, why don’t you? “Sully,” you reply with partial confidence, even though you’re not really sure if that character exists or you’re confusing them with something else.

“He’s from Monsters Inc, hon. Try again,” You stammer. Maybe it was a bad idea to pick a show you don’t watch to lie about. Joel answers for you, “Did ya mean Scully?”

You nod. “Yeah. Him,”

Joel just smiles tightly, nodding slowly like he knows something you don’t. You’re so full of shit. “Guess what, sugar,”

“What?”

“X-Files ain’t on tonight,” he whispers with a lopsided grin.

Busted.

“And I can tell you don’t watch it,” Joel takes a few imposing steps toward you, you take a few steps back as well. Your lower back hits the counter behind you, pinning you between itself and Joel. You hear the sound of him setting the batteries down next to you. “You think you’re slick, don’t ya? Lyin’ t’me like this.”

Your heart is racing out of our chest as he places his two hands on either side of you on the counter. “What?”

“Did your lil’ fuck toy die on you?” he taunts, his breath is hot on your face. Your eyes widen at the accusation. “It did, didn’t it?”

Your silence is the only answer he needs.

“So that’s what you’re playin’ with when I hear you whimperin’ for me late at night, hm?” You can only look down at the floor in shame. You didn’t realize you were loud enough for Joel to hear through his own bedroom, which mirrors yours. “You really should keep that window closed, sweetheart.”

You’re not exactly sure where this is going, you’re nervous and excited. Is he mad? Turned on? You can’t tell. “The fan’s broken, it gets hot,” you try to explain while stammering.

“I’d be happy to fix your fan for ya, but that’s not what we’re talkin’ about right now,”

Joel’s eyes are piercing, he never breaks eye contact as one of his hands leaves the counter. He pulls the fabric of your robe away from your chest a little more, and you look down to watch his next move. “Joel,” you gasp, surprised.

“Nothin’ under here, hm?” he croons as he begins playing with your nipple, hardened by your arousal and the cool air. You moan quietly when he teases it, pinching and twisting it slowly. He looks at you with big and concerned eyes as if to ask that this is okay. You nod in response, of course it’s okay. This is what you’ve dreamed of for so long.

Joel’s hand slides down your body until his fingers find your dripping seam. He slides them through your slick folds teasingly, he cocks his eyebrow when he finds you’re soaked to the bone. “And you were right there, weren’t you?”

You don’t answer, you just keen into his touch a little more.

“Don’t get all shy on me now, sugar,”

“Yeah,” you admit.

“Shoot. You poor thing,”

It’s completely silent between you both. Deafening silence. Joel wears a smug grin on his face. He pulls his hand away from your center, reaching for the batteries he set on the counter.

Before you can even process what you’re doing, you reach for his hand again. “Please,” you breathe.

“Please what, sugar?”

You don’t have words right now. Not that you did before this moment, either. You put his hand back at your pussy, using your body to tell him what you want. That you want this to continue, that you’re begging him not to stop touching you. Fuck the batteries.

“Ohhh,” he whispers, realizing. “Want me to get you off tonight, don’t ya?”

You nod with hungry and desperate eyes, thankful that this is going in the best direction it possibly could have. “Please, Joel, need you to touch me,”

It’s not a second before he grabs you by the hips, turns you around and shoves you down to your knees. “No,” he spits, one of his hands is tangled in your hair as the other is untying the knot at his pajama bottoms. He pulls his cock out before you, rock hard and angry. “Think you can just sneak into my house to steal batteries for your little toy?”

You’re at a loss for words, in disbelief that this is the position you’re in now.

“And now you want me to help ya rub one out. S’that right?” When you don’t answer he impatiently taps your cheek with the tip of his cock, smearing precum on your face. “Answer me.”

“Yes, please,”

Joel scoffs. “You’re unbelievable,” he remarks. “Think you’re pretty fuckin’ entitled, sugar. That’s not how this works.”

You feel your heartbeat in every inch of your body, blood rushing through your head. Your eyes dart between his face and his cock in front of you, not sure which part of him to focus your attention to.

“Here’s how this’ll go,” he begins, pressing his cock against your plump lips. They part slightly at the intrusion, but he doesn’t yet push himself into your mouth. “You do what I say, when I say it. We clear?”

You nod.

“Repeat it,” he demands.

“I follow your rules,” you whisper against his member. You can just barely taste him, and you’re hungry for more.

“Attagirl,” Joel praises you, and he shoves himself unceremoniously into your mouth. You nearly gag, pulling back slightly but he holds you right where he wants you.

He’s big. That’s the first thing you notice. He stretches your mouth out wide and fills you up entirely. Then you notice his tuft of slightly unkempt pubic hair that your nose is nudging. Your eyes flutter shut and you savor the way he tastes, tangy and slightly salty from the sweat.

His voice interrupts your thoughts. “Take your robe off f’me, sug,”

You do as you’re told, untying and shimmying off the thin robe from around your shoulders as you bob your head on his dick. You hollow your cheeks around him, letting him feel every inch of your mouth, so soft and wet. He’s domineering above you, but his hand on your head is gentle. He untangles his fingers from your hair and moves them to your cheek, caressing your skin gently. You can’t tell what the gesture means, if it’s supposed to be comforting or his way of letting you know he’s the one in charge.

You feel him twitch in your mouth every so often as you continue sucking his cock. You look up at him with wide eyes, he looks down at you through hooded lids. You wonder what he’s thinking.

“I wanna watch you touch yourself,” he requests, but it’s more of a demand. His voice low and gravelly.

You spread your legs slightly and your hand finds your center, your fingers slip and slide through your dripping pussy.

“Fuck yourself,” is his next command, “Deep as you can go. Come on now,”

You insert a single finger inside of yourself, using your body’s rocking motion to propel your finger deep inside you. But it’s not quite what you need. You pull your mouth off Joel’s cock, which garners you a look of irritation from him. “Need more,” you beg.

“Yeah? Whatcha need?”

“You, Joel. Please,”

“Awh,” Joel tilts his head and pouts at you mockingly. “Beggars can’t be choosers. You know that, silly girl.”

You open your mouth to plead for him, but he shuts you up by shoving his cock back into your mouth with a grunt.

“Keep fuckin’ yourself real nice f’me,” he says. “Gonna watch you come all over those pretty fingers.”

You whine a little and shift on your knees, trying to find the right angle while still taking Joel down your throat. Eventually you do, and you add a second finger while grinding your clit down on your thumb.

You and Joel find a steady pace, him fucking your mouth and you fucking yourself. You feel the beginning of an orgasm coming on and focus hard on that feeling, letting it build and wash over you. You moan and choke on Joel’s thick cock as you come, spit dribbling down your lips and your chin.

“Good girl,” he praises you. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

At this point, your lips and your jaw are sore. You wonder what’s next to come, Joel finishing down your throat or something else. It’s not long before you find out, he pulls away from you and brings you to your feet.

“What was it you were wantin’ again, sugar? D’ya wanna come all over my cock?”

You try to hold back your excitement, slightly embarrassed by the effect he has on you.

“Tell me, were you thinkin’ of me tonight? Before that lil’ fuck toy of yours died?”

“All day, Joel,” you whine. “Needed you all day.”

“All day,” he repeats, amused. He turns you around to face the counter, pulls you back by your hips a bit and nudges your feet apart. “How ‘bout that. What were ya thinkin’ about me?”

“Y-” you gasp, your words interrupted when you feel the thick head of his cock prodding your slit. He drags it up and down your folds, coating himself in your arousal.

“Go on, now,” His southern accent is thick like honey as he teases you.

“When you were mowing this morning-” you choked out. “You looked so handsome.”

“Handsome, hm? S’awful kind of ya,” Joel notches the tip of his dick inside you and sort of pulses inside you, ever so slightly moving in and out of your dripping entrance. “Got me blushin’, sugar.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond before he buries himself inside of you. You yelp at the sudden intrusion and without missing a beat, Joel wraps a hand around your mouth.

“Pipe down,” he growls. You nod frantically into his hand, which he promptly removes from your mouth and places on the back of your head. Firmly, but not so rough that he hurts you, he pushes your face down into the counter and holds you steady there by the back of your neck. His hand is warm on your neck, the pressure of his strength against you is both comforting and somewhat of a warning. Your guts churn as desire shoots through your veins like electricity.

Joel finds a steady pace. Not too fast, not too slow. His cock hits you right where you need him.

“Jesus, sugar. Feel good?”

“Fuck,” is all you can get out. You’re lost in him, your skin is on fire and all you can feel is Joel. His thighs hitting your ass, his balls slapping against your clit. One of his hands on your waist, holding you steady. “You feel good, s’good.”

Joel lets out a strangled kind of noise, somewhere between a whine and a groan. You hear his sharp and unsteady breathing through his gritted teeth, and you wish you could see him like this. You can just about picture it perfectly, his messy hair flopping with each of his thrusts and his brow furrowed, the little line between them more prominent than it usually is.

He fucks you at a devastating rhythm, both of you panting and moaning. Joel’s a little more vocal than you would have expected. You can tell he’s trying to keep as quiet as he can, but he lets out strangled moans here and there, as if he can’t help it at all. When he’s quiet, you wonder how he does it. Is his lip pinned under his teeth? Is he holding his breath?

He taps your cheek. “Look at yourself, baby,”

You open your eyes, and you see your reflection in his glass patio door. You’re stark naked and being mercilessly fucked and Joel’s behind you, still fully clothed. His plump ass peeks out from his gray sweats.

“You look real pretty with my cock in ya, sugar. Always knew you would,” he purrs.

“Fuck, Joel,” you moan, and you reach an arm behind you to hold onto his own, where he’s still gripping your hips. He holds you in a vice grip and you’re sure you’ll be a painting of bruises tomorrow, a picture of pure, unadulterated sex.

His hand on your neck finally leaves, and he wraps it around the front of your body until he finds your clit. You almost miss the way he pressed you into the cold countertop.

“Alright, now,” he breathes, “Keep lookin at us when you come.”

You nod into the countertop. Even if he didn’t tell you what to do, you’d still be watching yourself and him in the reflection of the glass. You couldn’t peel your eyes away if you tried.

He expertly paints circles into your clit as his once calculated and steady thrusts turn frenzied and he loses his rhythm.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, Joel,” you’re gasping, feeling your walls clench and squeeze him. “Right there, right there, fuck.”

“Go on, let go f’me,” he pants.

With a few more circles tracing your clit, you fall apart on him. You come with a loud whine, and Joel pulls you up to cover your mouth with his hand once more. His arm is between your breasts and you’re not sure if the hot sweating on your back is from you or him. You don’t mind either way.

He doesn’t yet stop fucking you, and the sensation is becoming all too much. Your moaning is muffled by his hand as he chases his own orgasm, and he spills into you with shuddering breaths and grunts, painting milky white ropes of come on your insides.

You groan at the loss as he pulls out of you and his spend is warm as it drips from your pussy and down your thighs. You turn around to face Joel, both of you panting as you catch your breath. His dominant demeanor is gone as he bends down to pick up your robe and holds it open for you, you turn around and slither your arms through the sleeves. Without words, he turns you around and ties it in the front, then you slide your flip flops back on your feet. The whole song and dance feels oddly domestic and sweet.

With his hand on the small of your back, he guides you out his door and walks you to your home.

“Don’t have too much fun,” he warns you teasingly, placing the two triple A batteries in your hand. “And close that window. I wanna be the only one to hear ya moanin’ all pretty like that.”

You nod with a shy smile, and Joel kisses your lips and then your forehead. The gentleness of the gesture feels odd, but not wrong. You’re suddenly feeling bashful, as if Joel just didn’t have you butt naked and bent over his kitchen counter.

“I’ll be by to fix that fan for ya, sugar,”

And then he walks away. And you go inside and back to your bedroom, first making sure to close your window. You watch the light in Joel’s bedroom turn off.

You lay in bed and play with the triple A batteries in your hand, still feeling the tingle of his lips on yours, the dull ache of the bruises his fingers left on your hips.

You never did end up replacing those batteries. Just like how you never gave back the sugar.

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thepastdied · 7 months

Text

You're nervous about cougar groupies getting Eddie's attention.

"Uh... Eddie?" You nervously shifted on your feet as you watched your best friend run back and forth to get the stage set up for his weekly Corroded Coffin show.

The Hideout never attracted a crowd on Tuesday nights. I mean, it wasn't a good night for him to choose in the first place, but... it wasn't your business. Today is Friday, though. And you know there are gonna be more people. You know that there might be some hot milfs there looking for a good fuck from one of the band members and, of course, Eddie would definitely be attracting many eyes aside from the handsome and freshly graduated (and legal) Jeff.

"What's up, buttercup?" He called over his shoulder, only looking back at you for a moment before turning his attention back to the tangled cords that his fingers fiddled with, his tongue sticking out in concentration.

Your stomach tied in knots. You should be happy for him. This was a big night for him. A crowd of 20-30, maybe more, instead of the usual 10 max? Fuck, that's great. But what if he...

"Can I talk to you for a sec? Just... just a sec." You forced out.

Eddie turned his head again and really looked at you this time. His grin faded as he dropped the cords to the floor and instantly skipped over to you.

"You okay?" He dipped his head slightly to make his eyes level with yours.

You nodded and blinked a few times, trying to figure out how to say this.

"Eddie... uhm. You know, there's gonna be more people tonight. And, I just... you know, as your best friend, I just think that you should... be careful of the... uh.." Your eyes were glued to his, begging for him to understand what you meant despite being very vague.

"Uhm..." He stared off for a moment, his eyes focusing on nothing before moving back to yours. God, they were so warm...

"I've never fallen on stage, man. Don't worry. I ain't nervous at all." He grinned widely before slapping your shoulder, causing your whole body to jolt.

You frowned as you watched his hair swoosh while he turned back around.

"N-no! It's not that." You called out, your cheeks warming at your outburst.

He tilted his head quizzically and waited for you to continue.

"There's definitely going to be some women here, older women that are looking to... you know that..." Your eyes were again pleading for him to catch your drift.

Eddie laughed out loud, his eyes closing before smirking.

"Oh, I know.." He wiggled his eyebrows jokingly and laughed again, making a blow job motion with his hand. You frowned even more, and he noticed.

"Woah, woah, wait. Hey..." He stepped closer to you, placing his hands on your shoulders and dipping his eyes level again, looking at you through his bangs.

"I'm.. I'm kidding. You don't think I'd actually..." His eyes remained on yours, narrowing as he turned his head slightly.

Your cheeks warmed again and you looked away.

"Hey, look at me." Eddie poked your cheek as he struggled to hold back a smile.

You shyly looked back to him.

"First of all..." Eddie made a face as he cringed and shook his body. "No way." He laughed lightly. He paused for a moment, nervously swallowing as he looked your face over, wondering if this was the moment that he would finally... that he would... after all this time of frustration between the two of you, he should just...

"And second of all... you know I already got my favorite girl right here." He gave you a lopsided smile as his eyes danced around your face, trying to read you. It was the perfect time to... after all this time, after all this tension and... He sighed as he looked at your lips. Yeah, he just needed to...

Eddie glanced at your lips and noticed how you lightly bit on it to hold back from grinning like an idiot. But he didn't. He allowed his lips to curl into a grin like a fool before moving a hand to your neck firmly and pulling you closer to him, smashing his lips against yours into a crushing kiss.

His rings were ice cold, and you shivered. Or was it just him? Probably just him. Your hands clenched and unclenched, unsure of what to do with them before they grabbed onto his shirt that was clung to his waist. Though it didn't stay there for too long as he pulled away, his hand still holding your face close to his by your throat. Both of your cheeks were flushed as you looked at one another, lips pink from the force of the kiss. He licked his bottom lip, tasting your lipgloss and grinning again.

"Strawberry." He gave you a cheeky smile.

"Y-you just.... you-" Your mouth opened and closed dumbly as you tried to spit out a sentence.

He laughed as he smirked and took a few clumsy steps back toward the cords he was previously attempting to unravel, snapping his fingers and shooting you with finger guns as he winked.

"Catch you after the show, babe."

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x you

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jupitermoontarot24 · 2 months

Text

🤍What Make You Beautiful? 💋

HI GUYS!!💗

Come Check Out Why You're Beautiful Inside and Out!

💋REST OF THE READING FREE ON MY PATREON💋

Pile 1 💕

Hello pile one welcome to your reading.

First things first I feel like What Makes You Beautiful is that you are very generous. Everyone who meets you can honestly say that you are a very generous person. I feel like you're also a gangster. Like you keep it real but you're nice and generous so it's a very good balance. I feel like a lot of people enjoy this part, enjoy this duality of you. I feel like they know that you have very strong boundaries and that you're not going to take certain things or situations. So when people are with you they're like I know nothing will go down pile one is not going for it, they have it covered. Like there's no disrespect around here for you. Also Because of this I feel like a lot of suitors or people that you're involved with romantically they see you as a perfect match. They even see themselves going through ups and downs with you so that's like arguing with you some people romanticize arguing with you, or you telling them off and them being like I'm sorry you're right because it's sexy seeing you be assertive. People see you as wifey / hubby. Like you’re the type of person you want to be your spouse. I feel like when people think of a spouse they think of somebody who has balance. who has Duality somebody who can stand up for themselves. because at the end of the day whether you're feminine or masculine if something happens to your partner and they can't be at 100% they want somebody who can pick up some of that whether it's emotionally mentally or whatever and that’s you. What Makes You Beautiful is people feel like you do have a conscience, a great conscience. So it's not like you just tell people off. You give people the benefit of the doubt and you give people chances especially if you love them but when it's time to cut the cord, you cut the cord. but it's all because of valid reasons. you can also be very nostalgic like you give 2000s Vibes you could give Lizzie McGuire vibes. You could have a bob. You can even give off Pi Syrian energy because I know Hillary duff is a Pisces LOL. Basically What Makes You Beautiful is that you are a beautiful heart soul mind body, face you are beautiful you give unapproachable nice hot girl. that girl that you see in the hallway that you might not say anything too because she’s mesmerizing. She's gorgeous and she's nice and anybody who's ever talked to her is like yes she's actually so nice she was so nice to me but she's just majestically beautiful. like when you walk through the hallway there is wind blowing through your hair and sunlight beaming directly on you and your skin is beautiful and you're wearing a beautiful outfit and your hair is luscious and beautiful and your smile is gorgeous like literally in a movie scene pile one.

The Carters-LOVEHAPPY

continued....

Pile 2 🤩

Welcome!

Do you not know you're beautiful? LOL. Pile 2 I feel like you're very humble and you might just be focused on more worldly things like being stable or being committed to whatever it is that you are committed to. and because of that I feel like you have slept on your looks way too long. I am here to get on you lol spirit is calling me to get on you! stop sleeping on your looks pile two!! they want me to yell at you. you need to be using the pretty privilege that you have. higher power God whoever you believe in didn't make you that beautiful for you to not do anything with it. it's like if you were given a beautiful voice it would be to sing that's not something that should be hidden. your body, Your Vessel, your face was created specifically for you to pursue your dreams with. looks are not everything yes but you look a certain way for a specific reason so remember that!! I feel like also because of this you might stay with people that are beneath you or people that's not in your league because you don't see how beautiful you are. that could be inside or out but I feel like because of that people can give you/have been giving you the bare minimum and you let it slide for a little bit longer than you should have. Yea people giving you things of physical material matter is cool but at the same time these people need to be stroking your ego too pile 2. you need your ego stroked, you need somebody who's going to tell you you're beautiful. That you're the most beautiful girl that they ever met, the most beautiful person they've ever met. inside and out! That you can have anybody you want to and That you deserve the world because you do!. you should be surrounded by people who say stuff like that to you, stay away from ppl who try to humble you. Your partner should say stuff like that to you x100 fr because you can forget. People giving you money, feeding you, and taking you places is not enough, that is literally the basic needs of a humans. you need more emotional and mental stimulation from people, somebody who waters you spiritually too as well. it’s more in this world than just physical things I hope you realize that. so listen! Usually I’m not yelling in my readings lol but I feel like I have to be a little bit more aggressive with you pile two, you might be stubborn. this could be my fixed sign pile lol. My taurus and Aquarius ‘s heavy. I feel like you're like this because you've been through a lot of things. I don't think that you expect things from people. at this point I think you've had to be independent and build a name and your own stability on you own. because of this you don't really depend on people to give you things like mental stimulation or physical stimulation or money you don't expect things from those people. so when people do come in and do those things for you, you can feel like it’s enough but it's really not you should be getting much more. What Makes You Beautiful is that you are very self-sufficient. you are a one man woman show and you're okay with that. you don't blame anybody for your problems You Don't Stray away from your problems either you sit and Ponder on what you should do next and then you do it. you will never let anybody keep you down or be the reason why you didn't become the person who you wanted to become. you are amazing pile 2.I want to tell you that you are an inspiration to people you will have the type of story that is looked at as a testimony almost like Jesus Christ. I got that I channeled that but that type of energy where it's like you have a testimony of your life if you read the Bible not to get all religious because I'm not but if you read the Bible Jesus went through a lot of things like his life was not perfect At All by any means and that's what you give pile 2. So ask for more from people !! and if they don’t give you that drop them!!! Please use that information wisely.

My love is that shh….-something for the people

continued.....

Pile 3 💗

What Makes You Beautiful pile 3 is you always know where it hurts. your hands could be certified they're golden. like your touch is very spiritual. you have healing hands so know that. you are so cute pile three I feel like your inner child is very beautiful very sweet. What Makes You Beautiful is that you're not afraid to feed your inner child and let them come out. What Makes You Beautiful is that you like to make memories, you're very adventurous and you and other people can find themselves in all different types of situations when they're with you. you're fun, you're funny and you have charisma. you're like people's favorite person to spend time with, people know that they will always have a good time with you. time could go really fast when people are with you because you're having so much fun. people will spend everyday with you if they could. this could be a specific person if that resonates. I want to say this person but ppl too want to have kids. What Makes You Beautiful is that people see you being a really good mother/father. people see you being a great partner, a great spouse, a great parent. What makes you beautiful is you are a great addition to anybody's team. Everybody wishes you were on their team. What Makes You Beautiful is that people feel like you're their soulmate. Your love feels Cosmic. feels spiritual, something that is not worldly or Earthly. something that a lot of people have never felt before. Your energy gives a roller coaster like it might seem intimidating when you get on it then you just laugh the whole time and it's thrilling and it's fun. and you get off and you tell everybody about it because it was so liberating. That's how you feel, that's how your energy is. You could have a purple I'm getting Orange maybe some blue aura. you're made of Stardust! You are so easy to love pile three!! you might notice a lot of people fall in love with you easily that's why. I'm about to fall in love with you pile 3 LMAO myself You giving me the heart eyes xoxoxo

Cascade-Stokley

continued.....

Pile 4 ❤️‍🔥

Hi pile 4. I smiled as soon as I started thinking about your pile. You could smile when you talk Idk if you know that's a thing or people know what I'm talking about but some people show their teeth when they talk so it looks like they're always smiling you could do that. What Makes You Beautiful is that you're a very supportive and loyal person. People can depend on you and know that it's not because you want to gain from it but because you genuinely care to do it. You can move out of a certain chakra a lot. So this could be your heart chakra or your sacral chakra or another one. It's different for everyone. You might want to research and see what chakra you operate from and see if it's overactive as well. so you don't overuse it. you can have Virgo placements. You can fix everybody's problems if you want to pile four. You could have water and Earth placements that make you more susceptible to helping people and figuring out their problems. so focus on yourself going forward and not what other people need help with. You can be going through a breakup or a cheating scandal. That's for some people. If you did just get hurt by someone you are very beautiful, know that, it has nothing to do with who you are as a person or your looks or anything. certain things just don't work out because they're not meant to. That doesn't mean that you're a bad person or this person is a bad person but if spirit wanted y’all to happen it would happen. What Makes You Beautiful is that you are a lovely person and you would be a really good parent. you are a really good girlfriend, boyfriend, sister, friend, daughter so you name it!. make sure you are loyal to yourself as well. What Makes You Beautiful is that you are creative. You can create new looks through your wardrobe and new styles for your hair. I feel like your house would be really creative and Chic and minimalistic at the same time. you have a specific aesthetic that nobody can recreate. you give very ethereal fairy energy. you could look really good in blue. you also look cute with your glasses if you have them. you look cute in dresses, anything that is dainty you look very attractive in. What Makes You Beautiful is that you never ask for help. you are able to separate yourself and dedicate yourself to other people. you have a true Pure Heart pile 4. You are an Earth angel. I just hope that you give that much love to yourself at the end of the day. You are the type to hide a body with somebody and never bring it up again and not judge them for it also.

TheCarters-FRIENDS

continued....

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#daily tarot #love #pac #pick a card #pick a pile #soulmates #tarot #tarot reading #twin flame #18+#pile 1 #pick an image #pick a card reading #pick a picture

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rreids · 15 days

Text

BE GOOD TO ME • A. HOTCHNER X READER

__ used in place of reader's name; age gap (both legal, unspecified, hotch implied to have worked with the reader's father); fem!reader; alcohol consumption; fluff; angst (i'm v bad at it, apologies); fears of abandonment; hotch is a bit insensitive at times; no jack or haley (assumed they have the same issues with his work & broke up pre-fic); sexual tension; has a nsfw section, skip from: (“Okay, they’re shut,” -> "I'll stay." if you are a minor or don't like smut; ~5k words; a poorly written ending, honestly; an (early!!!) birthday present for @hotchfiles (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) smut warnings: dom!hotch (nothing intense), fingering, marking, unprotected sex (do not copy them <3), oral (m receiving).

Moving was always a hassle.

Stressful, tiring, made tensions high — the works. It took the better part of your first day in Quantico to move in, and you could only settle onto your new couch (courtesy of your father, who’d worked in Narcotics at the FBI early on in his career, and was more than excited to find out that you wanted to move there) when the sun was thirty minutes from setting.

“Yes, yeah, Dad, I’m fine. I only had thirty more minutes of unpacking when you were leaving,” you click on speaker phone and lean your head back, sighing as you try to work a cord in your neck. “I’ll say hi to my neighbors tomorrow. Yes. Yes, I’m going to eat. The food you gave me to put in the fridge. I have my first day at the café tomorrow, I’ll get groceries then.”

He rambles for a bit and you close your eyes, letting him talk and talk. It’s nice. You know he worries.

“Ok, Dad, I got it. I’ll contact Gideon if anything comes up, and I’ll ask around for his team or wife — girlfriend? — if he’s busy. I love you, but I’m gonna go get ready for bed. Okay? Yeah. Thank you. Bye-bye,”

He hangs up first, knowing you hate to be the one to click it.

You sigh and stretch, tossing the phone down on the cushion. By the time you gain the energy to stand and go to the fridge, there’s a ring of your doorbell.

You’re not expecting anyone, so you approach cautiously, peering through the peephole. It’s a man, older, but you can’t place by how much, standing with his hands in his pockets.

You crack the door, keeping the secondary lock in place. “Hello?”

“Good evening,” his voice has a nice husk to it. “Sorry, I should introduce myself. My name’s Aaron, I’m your neighbor. Wanted to ask if there’s any groceries or anything I could bring you, something to help you get settled or maybe you forgot to pack for the move…?”

You eye him warily.

“I was going to make cookies but I can’t bake.”

You chuckle. “Um, I think I’m okay. Are you handy, by any chance?”

“A little. I can do stuff around the house.”

“Then,” you pause, looking at his eyes. “Is there a chance I can get your number? You know, so if there’s any issue I can call you to come round and take a look,”

“Sure,” he smiles warmly at you. “I’m a little busy sometimes, though, so it might take me a few days to get around to stopping by.”

You nod and quickly undo the inner latch and open the door more fully. “That’s alright, I don’t expect you to drop your life because I can’t fix a leaking faucet. Can you wait here while I grab my phone?”

He nods, looking respectfully at only the foyer and not further into your new home, carefully avoiding focusing on the stacks of boxes you haven’t gotten to unpacking (full of knick-knacks and unimportant things that you decided could wait to be put on display).

It doesn’t take long to save each other’s contacts, and while there’s no more excuse for him to be on your stoop, you want to talk to him more. “Do you have anyone to eat dinner with?”

Subtle, your inner voice snarks back.

“No,” he smiles sadly, bitterness to it. “Just me.”

“Well, it’s just lasagna to reheat, but if you’d prefer to not eat alone…”

“I’d love that…?”

“__,” you smile. “Come on in, Aaron. I’ll get you a plate.”

.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊

Work goes well, getting adjusted is easy.

You make friends with your coworkers and a few regulars, go out a few times and find a group of girls you mesh with.

Then again, you were a pretty sociable person, always trying to smile and improve people’s days. It was partially why you didn’t absolutely hate service work. There was a silver lining to every interaction.

Aaron was nice, too.

You’d had an issue with water pressure when you finally (after much longer than you’d like to admit) got your new shower head attached, and he’d come over and let his dress shirt get soaked while he fixed it for you.

Whenever you ask about work, he dances around anything more than telling you “FBI” and that he “travels a lot”, but you didn’t mind too much. Everyone has their secrets, and you knew your dad had seen some terrible things.

You can only imagine what Aaron has seen.

He was good company, had a dry and witty humor that you never expected, kind eyes and a gentle smile you were lucky to see despite his tiredness, and, well, he was handsome.

You weren’t against eye candy, even if you didn’t know much personally about him. It took a week to learn how old he was, and a few days while was gone for work for you to reconcile that he was old enough to have worked with your father when he was at Narcotics.

It’s been two weeks since you’d last seen him, but he calls, voice exhausted and rough, raw, even, from what seems to have been an emotional case.

“Aaron?”

He hums, sighs on the other side of the line.

“Everything okay?”

“Just tired,” he doesn’t explain more. “Can you keep talking?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” you can’t help the way your brow furrows in concern about how worn-out he sounds. “Well, I can tell you about my job. I’m not nearly as secretive, Mr. FBI,” you tease, and he exhales — a softer, happier one.

And so you do, rambling about different coffees, trying desperately to coax him into trying a latte (he refuses every single time you try to tell him he’d like one, but assures you there’s someone on his team who has equal amounts of sugar and coffee in his — you’re sure he’s exaggerating, the sugar would be too much for almost anyone — who would love to try your drink combos); telling him about regulars and new customers, the music that played, if there’s a song you know he’d like; really, anything you can think of.

“When do you get back?”

“We’ve landed, I’m back.” There’s more shuffling than there had been on his end, papers sliding and the crackling connection as he moves the phone before bringing it back to his ear. “Just finishing some paperwork.”

“Is it stuff that can’t be seen?”

“No. It’s not confidential.”

“Do you want to do it at your house, then? Or visiting my place. I made pasta and steak, I can heat some back up for you. I’m sure you haven’t been eating well when you’re chasing down bad guys, or… whatever you do when you’re gone, I’m not sure exactly.”

Aaron chuckles. “Thanks, __. Give me thirty minutes?”

“Yeah. Do you want me to stay on the line?”

He hesitates.

“No. No, it’s okay. I’ll see you in a little while.”

.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊

He takes closer to forty-five minutes, but you expected something to take a bit longer than he said. And it’s not a bother. Really, it was welcome because it let you run out to the store and buy a nice wine (you hoped he likes red), and reheat the food better than just by the microwave.

When he knocks, you try not to scurry over too quickly and to temper your smile. “Come in,”

Aaron smiles tiredly at you, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He hangs up his suit jacket and loosens his tie slightly.

He looks at the table and his brows raise. “Wine?”

“I figured you could use something to unwind,”

“Sounds lovely.”

You can’t tell if he actually means that, or if he just doesn’t like red, doesn’t want wine, or what, and is being polite but you don’t push it.

“Are you going to eat, too?”

“I already did,” you smile at him. “I was going to do dishes so I don’t leave them in the sink overnight — I try to never do that. But it can wait if you’d rather have company.”

He moves his napkin. “Well, I’d be able to hear you from the kitchen. More efficient,”

“Got it,”

You hum to yourself in the lulls of conversation with him, scrubbing a plate clean. He eats quickly, when you’re not across from him, and you find this out when he comes in with his dishes.

“Let me wash them. My mess,”

“You’re a guest,” you protest, but you don’t do much to dissuade him, watching the way he rolls up his sleeves and his forearms flex with a lazy smile as he scrubs off the alfredo sauce. “At least leave your glass. We can drink and talk for a bit.”

He raises his brows but nods, pushing it to the side.

“Do you want to talk about work?” You ask him as you fill one for you and then top off his. “Or would you prefer anything else.”

“I’ve been talking about dead bodies and abductions for two weeks. I’d like something more normal,” Aaron answers smoothly before pausing, placing his plate in your dishrack. “I’ve never told you that I deal with that, have I?”

“No,” you hand him his wine and guide him to your couch. “But I can make a guess why you haven’t,”

“I’m sure you can.”

“My father, he was in Narcotics, actually.” You look for a flash of recognition in his eyes, but without saying your father’s name there is none. “Maybe he worked with you at some point. But he would always come home tense and it strained my parent’s relationship… I get it.”

Aaron swallows. You guess relationships are a sore spot.

“Wanna hear about the last time I went out?” You couldn’t think about a better topic, and grimace when he sighs and sinks back into the cushions. “Nothing gross,”

“Hit me.”

You tell him, excited, bubbly, and pause about two-thirds into recounting the drinking games and how you could barely walk by the end of it. Namely, because you want to leave out the fact you almost drunk-dialed him (and that you were super wasted in public, considering he’s a federal agent), and second, because you realize you could show him the dress you were wearing that night.

Maybe the wine is getting to you a little, but you buzz with excitement at the idea of him eyeing you up and down.

“Actually, I wanna show you something!” Your voice is too excited and you know it when he gives you a questioning look. “Wait here.”

You stumble a little changing out of your clothes and quickly zip yourself into the dress, clasp the same necklace back on. Your hair isn’t done the same, your makeup is your day makeup and not what you wear out, but you still look pretty.

Maybe a little less slutty than you did that night, but the way the dress clings to your curves would make up for it. Hopefully.

“Close your eyes!” You call out to him.

“What?” Aaron calls back, and you hear an exaggerated groan when you don’t reply. “Okay, they’re shut,”

You saunter out and lightly grab his wrist — he’s holding his hands to cover his sight completely, and your heart flutters at the boyishness — and tug them away. “What do you think?”

Aaron opens his eyes almost directly to your cleavage as you straighten up, and he snaps his attention to your face. That doesn’t last long as you spin and twirl, letting the light catch the glittery details.

He’s moved his eyes to your hips and how much of your thighs are exposed.

He clears his throat. “You wore this out when you were that drunk?”

“Don’t worry,” you smile. “I was safe!”

“You were telling me you could barely walk,”

You pout at him. “You’re so serious, you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm.”

A beat of silence.

Another.

“Twirl for me again?”

You beam at him and obey, squeaking when he pauses you once you face away.

“It’s not fully zipped,” he lets his fingers trace above the zipper as he stands, and you feel him pressing closer to you — tall, imposing, strong. Warmth radiating off his skin. “Can I?”

You debate what to say.

“Actually,” you breathe in deeply, trying to keep your voice level. “I think I cinched the waist too tight at the clasps. Can you loosen them?”

Aaron’s breath ghosts over the nape of your neck, and he says nothing as he slowly unzips it, fingers sparking desire and tensing the muscles as his fingers trail down your spine after the zipper.

“Right here?” He asks, tugging at the cinch to make his point clear.

You smile and let the straps slip from your shoulders in a fake stretch. His breath hitches.

“A little lower,”

Aaron listens, entranced, undoing more and more until his fingers ghost right above your panties — a thong, maroon-y red.

You imagine he’s shut his eyes now, trying to respect you despite the way you’re clearly trying to get into his pants.

And so, you act.

You reach back and grasp the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him a little closer to the crook of your neck.

“__,” he whispers.

“Aaron,” you match the soft desire thrumming under the words. “Please.”

You know he’ll snap when you arch your back, pressing back into his hardening bulge and pushing your chest out — right into his line of sight.

He kisses the skin of your neck gently, sucking on it harshly before running his tongue over the stinging sensation. He guides the dress down you fully, strong hands squeezing the fat on your thighs with a groan before slipping up and around your waist to cup your breasts.

“You’re beautiful,”

“Please don’t waste time on easing into it,” you grit out, aching for him. “I want you. Badly.”

“Shh,” he soothes, unclasping your necklace and placing it on the small stand by your couch, kissing where the cold metal had sat. “You’ll get me,”

You whimper out in surprise as he spins you and crashes his lips into yours forcefully, pressing you into him so your nipples brush against his ironed and perfect dress shirt, a perfect, aching friction.

A confident hand goes to your thong and snaps the waistband against your hip as you press further into him, blindly pawing at his pants.

“Walk me to your bedroom,” he tells you when he pulls back for air, and you stumble into the wall twice, too wrapped up in his kisses and heat to move with grace.

He lays you down, but before he can pull back and stand, you pull him next to you.

“Let me,” you say, tugging his tie loose and nimbly undoing his buttons with only a slight tremor to your hands. The button-up falls open to beautiful strength and skin, dotted with freckles and rippling with strength as he shrugs the fabric off and flings it to the floor.

When you start on his belt, his eyes bore into you and you shrink under the gaze once you tug it loose.

“Sit back,” he nods towards the headboard. “Now.”

You swallow and scramble to move where he wants. He strips down to his boxers and shifts to move over you, bracing on his knees and a forearm. He pecks your lips with a smile before deepening the kiss.

He leaves you gasping for air by the time he moves to lick over your nipples as his calloused fingers find their way into your panties. You quiver at the roughness on your clit, the way the fabric of the thong slips against you with his movements.

He pulls off you, and your eyes hungrily drink in his deep breaths and the filthy sight of his fingers moving in your underwear, back arching as he slips one finger into you and continues to roll your clit with his thumb.

“More?” He asks when your hips grind down to meet him.

“Want it,” you gasp out, squeezing him over his boxers. The precum that’s leaked through makes you keen with need. “‘M ready.”

“I’d rather you not get hurt,” he pushes in another finger. “So be patient.”

You huff, fucking up against his hand.

He pulls back and pins you with that same hand, smearing your arousal over your hip. “You can’t wait?”

“Maybe I like it with a little pain.”

He raises a brow at that and sighs, but he lets go of you to pull down and kick off his boxers.

Your mouth dries at the sight of his cock, and you ache, so desperately empty. You grab at his shoulders, broad and strong, and he can’t help the twitch of a smile as he rubs himself against you and you squirm.

You kiss him as you hook your leg around him and drag him into you, delighting in the gasp of pleasure he lets out against your lips. His jaw sets, teeth grinding as he sets a torturously slow pace, letting you feel the drag of every vein and inch against your velvety walls.

You dig your nails into his back and scratch, and his hips stutter before finally speeding up. It’s still not enough, but finally forceful enough to draw sounds from your lips.

“You like a little pain too,” you laugh breathlessly, trying to leave a bite on his neck. He cranes back and out of reach, folding your legs up to drive deeper.

“I can take it. Can you?” Aaron asks, no expectation of an answer as he finally sets a pace that drives you to near silent gasps and shaking muscles.

You whimper, digging your nails in more harshly to feel the way his shoulders flex as he moves one of his hands to rub your clit. His skin and his movements are rough and aggressive, punching moans out of you without care, sitting your nerves on fire.

He doesn’t relent, leaving wet kisses along your sweat slick skin as he fucks into you so hard you quiver in his hold, small and weak and helpless under him.

You moan at the idea, arching up into him as he scrapes his teeth over your left breast.

“More,” you beg breathlessly. “I can take it all,”

His brow furrows in delicious determination over darkened, blown-out eyes, lips tightening to hold in his gruff moans as he drags you closer to your ecstasy.

“Yeah?” He asks, bringing a hand to squeeze your cheeks together. “Want it all?”

You nod eagerly, urge him down for another kiss, and you clench when he sucks on your tongue before pulling back and completely away.

“Hands and knees.”

You flip hurriedly, trying to hide the way your muscles shake from the effort. He catches it, though, wraps an arm under and around your waist to help support you as he drapes himself over your back and slides back in.

It’s almost claustrophobic, so warm and close to him, skin slick with sweat, heavy breaths coming out in humid pants, wet presses of his lips and tongue to your shoulders and the nape of your neck; but you love it, whining and keening as he angles his hips just right and rubs your clit again.

You’re so, so, so close to the edge, you can almost taste it.

“Let go,” he orders, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his own sounds.

And you do, quivering around him, pussy desperately trying to keep him in place as he fucks you through it.

He hisses, and you whine at the empty feeling, rolling over to see him leaning back and jerking himself off, head tossed back and veins popping out.

You crawl over and grin up at him “fuck my mouth” before taking him in, and he hisses, fingers tightening in your hair.

“Shit, __,” he groans, and you realize it’s the first time he’s said your name or lost composure during this. You hum in response and bob your head further down before hollowing your cheeks.

His hips jerk, but before he can apologize for the movement, you moan around him and press lower.

Aaron groans, deep and broken with need, and it only takes a few more seconds for him to cum, thighs twitching under your palms.

He tugs you off and kisses you after you swallow, tasting himself on your tongue.

“Let me clean you up,” he whispers after a few moments, observing how you’re still shaking from the aftershocks.

He leaves and comes back with a washcloth, wiping you clean and apologizing softly when you wince from oversensitivity.

Aaron even helps you get dressed (finds pajamas in a drawer for you and hands them to you) and makes sure you pee and brush your teeth.

When he starts gathering his things, you grab him. “Stay.”

He pauses and sighs, shirt bundled in his hand. He slips back into his boxers and slides under the duvet next to you.

“I’ll stay.”

.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊

When you wake up, Aaron is gone.

No note. No voicemail.

It stings. He’d even cleaned up the wine glasses and brought your necklace onto your nightstand.

When you stand, it aches, muscles exhausted. You shower slowly and pensively, chewing on your lip as you consider calling him.

You don’t.

You fix yourself coffee, eat some fruit and pancakes, and get ready for work. It’d be a long day standing and delivering orders with the way your muscles burned, but maybe it’d distract you.

You don’t even hear from him again for a week, and part of you is mad at him, but most of you is scared — you’d figured out that he deals with homicides and abductions that night, and there was a worry that took root and grew that he could be dead, and you wouldn’t know.

When you hear from him, it’s one a.m. on a Friday (Saturday, you suppose, since it’s past night).

“Hello?” You ask groggily, not having checked the caller I.D.

“__,” Aaron sighs out. He sounds relieved.

You tense. “Aaron.”

There’s awkward silence.

“Why are you calling?”

“I hadn’t heard from you all week,” he tells you, and your heart twists in your chest.

Who did he think he was, to sleep with you, leave without warning, and call like nothing happened?

“I wonder why,” you snap, voice bitter and biting.

Aaron sighs and shuffles.

More uncomfortable silence.

“Where did you go?”

“Home. I had to get dressed for work.”

You hope none of his team is around. You’re already upset enough just talking to him, and that’s without a team of whatever-the-fuck he does FBI agents listening in.

“No message?”

“Should I have left one?” Aaron sighs, and you can practically see him pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’re not dating, __.”

“Yeah. I can tell.” You scoff. “Then why do you care that I didn't call you?”

“I like your company, you know that.”

“You do a hell of a job making it clear.”

Eyes burning with tears you’re holding back, you finally ask.

“What do you want, Aaron?”

“To talk.”

“No,” you grouse, wiping the tear that rolls down your cheek.

“__, please, come on.”

“Come on?” You repeat, incredulous. “Aaron, I like you. You used me for sex and left. I’m fucking pissed at you,”

“You’re too young for me.” Aaron sighs. “I’m always at work. It’s dangerous work, too. You could have any guy,”

“Yeah. A shame I want you. And my age didn’t seem to matter last week. If you don’t want to date me, just say it!”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That I want to see you.”

“No. Please… stop calling me,”

You hope he doesn’t hear the choked sob that leaves your lips as you hang up.

.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊

You ignore him for two weeks pretty well, pretending to be gone or asleep every time he rings the doorbell, tossing out his sad attempts at cookies (even if you feel like crying knowing he can’t make cookies or bake for shit and is doing it just for you), letting the flowers he placed die on your stoop.

The first time you hear about him again — he hadn’t left messages in a few days — is actually at work.

A younger man, about your age, boyishly cute and nothing like who you wanted, comes in and smiles at you.

“Hey, do you have any like… special drinks?” He’s stuttering. “My friend—boss?— recommended this place, said you had lattes I might like.”

The gears turn a little.

(There’s someone on my team who would drink it.

I want you to try it, Aaron.

I don’t do sugar in my coffee, __. But he does, I swear it’s more sugar than coffee sometimes. I’ll let him know the name of your café.

Should I be expecting him?

Yeah, maybe. His name’s Spencer. He’s a good kid.)

“Boss?”

“Yeah! We work together, but we’re also friends, but he could fire me, so I never know how to introduce him.”

You giggle slightly. “Um, well, we have a seasonal drink.”

You rattle off the options and ingredients, and when he finally decides on his order, he blinks at you a few times.

“You know, your name is familiar. __.” He’s trying to place it.

With a smile, you glance at him. “What’d you say yours was? For the order.”

“Spencer.”

Bingo.

You write it on the cup and look to see if there’s a line. There isn’t. You hand the cup to the other barista working with the order ticket.

“Where’d you say you worked, Spencer?”

“I didn’t. But I work at the FBI in the BAU—that’s the behavioral analysis unit. We do something called profiling to catch unsubs, unknown subjects, who commit a variety of different crimes.”

You nod.

Profiler.

You’d think someone who knows the human condition and behavior so well would know not to leave a girl without a goodbye when you slept together the night before.

“Your boss, his name Aaron?”

“Hotch.” Spencer supplies automatically before his ears catch up. “Wait, yeah. Aaron Hotchner. You know him?”

You smile tightly, not sure what he’s shared with his team. With the BAU. “We’re neighbors.”

Spencer grins. “You should come in and surprise him! He’s been bothered by something lately, but he won’t tell any of us why. Maybe he’ll tell you.”

You tense. “You all sound like a nosy bunch, Spencer,” you hope your voice comes across light and playful enough. You thank your coworker for his coffee and say “I’m also on shift. Here’s your coffee. Have a good day.”

He smiles and says “you too!” and turns around. He almost bumps into someone immediately and you hear a rush of apologies as he looks at his watch and hurries out of the café.

You sigh.

All day, what Spencer said runs through your mind. Had he really been struggling? He had to be, assuming Spencer didn’t know you… and if Aaron is as private as you think he is, Spencer definitely doesn’t know you.

When you get home, Aaron is waiting on your doorstep, and it takes everything in you to not turn around and get right back in your car, drive somewhere for dinner.

“__,” his voice is pleading, broken and soft.

“Aaron, please,” you sigh. “I’m tired of the excuses.”

“I know. I know. Let’s talk. Actually.”

You huff.

“... I’ll talk. You listen. I’m the one who has apologizing to do,”

“First right thing you’ve said in a while,” you mumble bitterly, brushing past him to unlock your door. “Come on.”

He follows you slowly, and one glance at his face fills you with guilt. He looks like a kicked puppy.

Damn him and his pretty brown eyes.

You settle on the couch with wine. “Go on,”

Aaron swallows. “I… got a call. A work call. At three. After we slept together, I needed to run to grab all my things, get new clothes…

It was a brutal case. The… the guy — we caught him — was killing girls who looked like you. And, selfishly, I thought, maybe if I just ignored you I wouldn’t be worried. And that you’d be okay, that it didn’t matter to you like it mattered to me.

But I kept seeing him kill you in my nightmares, and I knew I needed to focus on work before he killed another innocent woman. That if I called you, I’d break down and be a burden on the team and the case.

And I know that’s not good enough, I should’ve left a message or called anyway.

I do like you. And your age is part of me not calling, I just don’t know if it’s right. For me to want you.”

He pauses and stares into your eyes before looking to the ground. “I don’t care if it’s right anymore. I do want you. When I close my eyes before bed, I see your smile, I think of you, and I just,” he digs his nails into his thighs, exhales heavily. “I want you so fucking bad,”

You swallow. “Care to show me?”

“Not tonight.” Aaron sighs. “I don’t want… I don’t want it to seem like I just want your body.”

“Even if I say it’s okay?”

“Even then,” he leans over and kisses you.

Sweetly. Romantic, even.

“Let me make it up to you. What do you say about dinner tomorrow?” He rubs his thumb over your cheek. “Let me show you that I want you,”

“Sounds good, Hotchner.”

His brows shoot up. “How do you know my last name?”

“Well, I met this guy,” you say teasingly. “His name’s Spencer. Ring a bell?”

Aaron curses. “Did he say anything?”

“Just that you seemed down. He didn’t know anything, I just said you were my neighbor. Why, did you miss me? That why you were so miserable?”

“Yeah.” It’s the most confident he’s sounded all night. “Going forward…” he pauses. “Just slap me if I’m being an ass. I thought I was going crazy not being able to see you.”

#my works #mdni #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst

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theblueflower05 · 1 year

Text

First Love/ Late Spring

A/N: I had no right to listen to Mitski and write for Neteyam but here I am. I’ve been working on this on and off since December but finally decided to get serious and post it. Hope you guys like it!

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Masturbation(F receiving). Breeding Kink if ya really dig. Angst. Talks of self doubt and insecurity. All Characters are aged up 18+.

You are responsible for cultivating your own online experience, please do not interact if any of these tags are triggering to you. Minors DNI.

Summary: Neteyam has passed his Metkayinan Iknimaya, and is now free to choose a woman. Why did you ever think he would choose you? Neteyam X Na'vi Reader.

Series Masterlist(All parts can be found here)

Next> Crawling Back to You(Part Two)

One word from you and I would jump off of this ledge I’m on, baby.

Tell me don’t so I can crawl back in- Mitski, First Love/Late Spring

As the beloved niece of the reigning Olo’eyktan, in your life you had wanted for nothing.

Had spent the last nineteen years in isolated bliss. The island of Awa’atlu and your tribes familiar inhabitants were all you knew. Your life moved to a steady beat, as sure as the morning eclipse. As rhythmic as the tides.

And you had been content, really you had. Too busy to be bored. Too beloved to truly dwell on the gap. On the absence of a mate no matter how much your Uncle; Tonowari urged you to accept one of the many offerings of courtship. Lonely maybe, but happy.

Useful. Focused.

Ever since the Sully’s arrival, you have felt anything but.

Descending from the skies on ikran back, they left plumes of sand in their wake. Shook up everything you had ever known as they stood there on the beach, adrift. Out of place, different then anything you had ever seen with their dark skin and thin tales. That morning had been a whirlwind of harsh words and brief but tense negotiations.

So much change had happened in such a small amount of time that it was hard to wrap your head around-

The leader of the Sully Tribe, Jake, had begged Uturu for his family. And ever benevolent, your Uncle Tonowari had granted it to them.

Overwhelmed by crowds, you don't recall much more of that day except for the desire to run away. To escape the strained aura’s of the hesitant clans people and the exhausted newcomers. You’d gone to away, eager to get back to your herbs and tinctures. To the safety of familiarity to digest the entire situation.

You’d been stopped in your tracks, rooted in place, by a pair of striking golden orbs.

A stare like none you’d ever known. His eyes resonated with you. Plucking a cord n your chest that echoed throughout the rest of your body. You’d never felt anything like it. Never been so affected by a stranger.

Never been so affected by anyone.

Even now, months later, thinking of Neteyam that look he’d given you on his first day here makes you hot. You dream about it, about him often. He plagues you, has taken up permanent space in your subconscious.

You wake most mornings to phantom touches. To his voice ringing in your ears and an empty bed mat that feels too cold.

This morning is no different. Your eyes flutter open with a gasp and your heart is beating madly in your chest.

It's early. You have only moments before you will be expected to wake and start your daily routine. Really, you should’ve been up by now-

Instead you lie in your corner of the family mauri, the privacy curtains pulled around your bed as you shoulder into the woven blankets. Your hands slip down- lower on your belly and into the dip of your tweng.

Between your legs you’re hot, soaked and pulsing as you always seem to be these days. Your clit swollen almost painfully as you press your fingers to it, rubbing firm little circles as you search for some kind of relief. Humping harshly into your small hand, cupping your sex desperately as you recall Dream Neteyam.

He’d pinned you to a tall palm, your belly pressing against the rough bark as buried his nose in your hair. All panting breaths and wandering hands.

“You’re so beautiful”

“I’m right here”

“Let me have you, I have to have you”

Dream Neteyam says all the things you want to hear as he ravages you. He’s sure footed, cocky in that way that you knew he could be. He’s pushy and needy and you’d give him anything if he asked for it, Eywa all he had to do is hint that he wanted it-

“Spread your legs for me, sevin ”

You bite your lips bloody, your fangs digging into them as your thick thighs clamp shut around your hands and your pussy spasms. You want to cry out as you come. Fight the urge to whine because it’s not enough, you’re still so empty.

Neteyam’s name is always on your tongue as you come down from your self induced high.

“Y/N? My Child, are you awake?”

There’s no time to bask in the afterglow, you wrench your hands away. Wiping the mess on your blankets as you shoot up straight-

“Yes? Yes. I’m coming, i’ll be out a minute” You try to keep your voice from breaking and just barley succeed.

Ronal who had peeked a head into the empty mauri isn't convinced, but accepts it anyway “Hurry now, we have to get going. The tide pools will be filling and we need to restock the sea-tsam(kelp like herbs), you haven't even eaten breakfast yet. Up!”

You only release the breath stuck in your chest when she’s scurrying back out of the home- one of these days you’re going to get caught.

Your people are free with their sexuality, there’s no shame in pleasure whether it be self inflicted or given by another. But it would make those pesky questions arise- if you’re so needy, Y/N- why do you refuse every eligible bachelor that comes your way?

You huff, thinking about that very thing as you get ready for the day. Bruising through your long hair almost violently as you chew it over.

If you need to be fucked so badly, why are you three years into adulthood without a mate? You don’t even have a possible suitor- your friends are having babies, building lives, and you’re still living with your family.

It used to be that you we’re hyper focused on your role in the clan. On your training as part of the Tsakarem. On preparing Tsireya for the day she reaches adulthood and takes over her mother’s title.

You had always been family oriented, and the clan had accepted it-

But now there were whispers. Inquiries, never spoken to you but always about you. It’s an oddity that such a pretty young woman with such high standing is choosing to be alone.

Is there something wrong with you?

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The only thing that’s wrong with you is your inability to focus on the most mundane of tasks as of late.

After a quick breakfast, you’d taken off. Determined to knock the long list of chores down.

You’d collected herbs until your fingers hurt and the satchel slung across your chest was full to the brim. You’d tended to the Elders, and checked in on the mother with newborns, still so fresh to the world that they’re connected to their Sa’nok kuru, constant Tsaheylu necessary at such a young age.

Healing isn't always glamorous, and while you’d much rather be mixing potions and sketching in your journals- you check fevers. Change chamber pots. Kiss the scraped knee’s of young ones.

You’re supposed to be heading back to the Healer’s Mauri, the large hut where Ronal waits for you-

But instead you get sidetracked.

It’s all you seem to do these days.

Lounging in the soft warm sand is so much easier then running around the village.

You’d come across your cousins who were circled by Roxto and the elder Sully’s, and it hadn't taken much convincing for you to tag along on whatever little adventure they had planned for the afternoon. It had led you to one of the smaller isles, a tiny thing that was mostly white sand beaches and deep rocky cove tunnels.

Lo’ak and Ao’nung practicing their breath holds, taking turns weaving through the underwater caves. The two had went from going for each others throat’s to thick as thieves, and your glad. Lo’ak’s troubled, but he’s not trouble. Not the way that your cousin's other asshole friends are.

Roxto and Neteyam wade through the crystal clear shallows, hunting for clams that are abundant at this time of year.

You’re sat with Kiri and Tsireya, the three of you staying in the beach and giggling about current clan gossip. Chattering endlessly.

Neteyam’s shoulders are broad and glisten in the bright afternoon sun. You can barely tear your gaze away from him. Hungrily, needing to glance back every few seconds-

“The celebration is in less then a month's time” Tsireya states, a small grin playing on her lips as she takes in the scene.

She knows about your feelings for the eldest Sully son, you’d confessed them to her in a fit one night. Unable to keep them caged in your chest anymore. She can understand the appeal- her own eyes had been glued to the family since the arrival.

What she can't understand is why you wont tell him- or at the very least why you’re being so damn shy about it. You had never been this demure before.

“I know, the preparations have been a real pain in my ass” You reply, turning on your side to face her. Arm bent at the elbow, chin propped in your hand. “Tonowari has me assisting with getting the ceremonial mats woven. It’s not fair”

“I think he just wants you to be…a more active participant this year” Tsireya chooses her words wisely, ignoring your side eye “It’s sweet”

“It’s annoying” you hiss, eyes rolling harshly. Your tail swishes behind you, a firm pat on the sand.

“This is the celebration that’s held for the hunters. The ones that pass their Iknimaya’s?” Kiri asks, intrigued. She’s inquisitive and you’d assured her early on that she could ask you anything, that you’d help her understand the customs of your people.

“Yes and it’s so much fun. You’ll see, the Hunters come back from Motnaui(ritualistic hunt) and we spend the day roasting their catch, thanking Eywa for her abundance. There’s dancing and singing- “ Tsireya’s eyes sparkle as she talks about it, glazed with nostalgia.

You let her rant a bit more before cutting her off, “And mating. Most of the hunters will stake their claim on any courtships that have been started”

Because yes, it is a celebration for the newly joined adults of the clan, but goes hand in hand with the fact that it is their first chance to choose a mate.

“We have something like this back in the forest, it's the start of Fertility Season right?” Kiri verifies and you nod. “Does it coincide with the rains here, too?”

“Mhmm, most newly mated pairs will spend the week or so tucked away…-” Tsireya’s cheeks get red and you roll your eyes.

“Coupling” You interject and she shoots you a look that has you tittering. Awe, your sweet young cousin, still a year away from her own Iknimaya. Innocent and shy when it comes to such topics.

Kiri doesn't look scandalized- she’d come to adulthood back in the forest. Though she hasn't chosen a mate she had partaken in many of the festivities.

“Yes, coupling” Tsireya continues. “Its all beautiful really, its my favorite time of year. Right after the return of the Tulkun of course”

Its nice listening to your cousin's version of the celebration. You think that yeah, your own view of it all used to be mostly the same. That was until you’d reached adulthood, and had spent the last cycles without a mate of your own. This week that Tsireya found so beautiful had just been wet for you. Yourself and other unmated , able bodied Na’vi took on the duties of the disposed clan members.

It was an honor to take care of your people while they were vulnerable.

It was embarrassing to have not found a mate of your own yet.

You wonder if this year you’d spend the week in the rain again.

“You don't seem excited” Kiri whispers and you force a smile onto your face almost instantly, not wanting to come off so extremely transparent.

“It’s not that I’m not-”

“Y/N hasn't mated yet”

“Obviously Tsireya, thank you for pointing that out” you deadpan at the girl but she continues on, not phased in the least by your attitude-

“But I do think that will change this year”

Kiri perks up, big eyes interested, a brow arched “Really? Has someone caught your eye? Every time any one even tries to start courting you, you give them the cold shoulder”

“That’s not true, I’m nice about it” you defend your actions “I just haven't been interested in any of their offers”

“‘Their’ being half of the unmated men in this clan” Kiri’s sarcasm rivals your own, you flick a small shell at her forehead.

“It hasn't felt right and Eywa wouldn't want me to settle. '' The words taste condescending as they roll off your tongue, you don't blame them for scoffing at you but it's true.

If you had accepted an offer in the past, you wouldn't be free to follow your hearts desire now…your eyes flick back to the shore. Back to the broad shoulders.

“I’m sure whoever you choose will be honored,” Kiri chuckles. “Surprised though, probably. I overheard a couple of Elder’s making bets that you’d make another suitor cry this year”

The peel of laughter that Tsireya lets out is shrill and loud,

Roxto and Neteyam’s heads turn, far out enough now that the surely cant hear the conversation but can hear the shrieks of joy. Roxto grins and signs something that you can't quite make out and Neteyam gives a small wave.

You can feel the big stupid smile on your face, it’s no surprise that Kiri acknowledges it.

“You didn't answer my question. Is there anyone in particular that you have your eye on?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip. You’d been wanting to run it past her for weeks. Desperate for her insight but too embarrassed to muster up the courage and ask for it.

“Tell her, tsmuk’tu” Tsireya urges gently.

“I have been hoping that…Neteyam might choose to court me. After his Iknimaya” You admit it, carefully watching her for her reaction. Your own ears are pressed to your head, your fingers winding around each other nervously.

“I was wondering why that idiot was going through his rites again” Kiri nods, like she’d found the missing piece of a puzzle.

One that she wasn't willing to share with the group.

“What’do you mean? If he wants to be a hunter, he has to” You point out the facts, the law of the village.

“Well yeah, but I mean look at how our dad did it. He didn't jump through all of the hoops, he just tamed his Skimwing on his own time. My brother has been adamant about wanting to be apart of ceremony”

You ingest Kiri’s words greedily, letting them expand in your chest. It’s hope, the fragile kind, the scariest kind.

“Maybe he just wants to prove himself as a hunter. We’ve heard his skill is legendary to the Omiticaya” you suggest and Tsireya pushes at your shoulder, shaking her head.

“Maybe” Kiri shrugs her shoulders “But mating is important to Neteyam. He’s always wanted a big family, I think he really idolized our parents' marriage. Mom said he must’ve taken an interest in a mate if he’s making such a big deal out of being a recognized adult here”

A big family. Neteyam wants to be a father.

The thought is heady. The seed has been planted in your head and you know there is no way that you will ever be able to dig it out.

“Do you think that-”

You're cut off by booming laughter, by clatter and chaos. Who else could it be but Ao’nung and Lo’ak coming back from the caves, they had the worst possible timing. You shoot daggers at your cousins fat head.

“What are you girls whispering about over here?” 'Nung teases as he drops next to you in the sand,

“That would be none of your business” You snipe, “Skxawng ass”

“Why so hostile, cuz?” Ao’nung starts “I was the one who invited you out here? You don't want to spend time with little ol’ me?”

“I spend too much time with you as is. I was hoping you had drowned down in those caves so I could get a break- NUNG!” you squeal as your cousin shakes his head, wringing out his wet hair all over you. The water is shockingly cold against your sun soaked skin.

Soon enough, Neteyam and Roxto come in from the waves, baskets full of multicolored shells. More than happy to share as they join the small circle.

“You had such a bountiful catch!” Tsireya applauds, happily accepting the oysters that Roxto offers.

You’re awkward around Neteyam on a good day- there's something so intimidating about his beauty. So tall and angular. But today? After the admittance you’d made to his sister? You can barely look at him.

You feel heavy and clunky and ugh, why does he make you so nervous? You’re playing with your hair, twisting the thick tendrils around your fingers idly when Neteyam turns to you.

“Do you want some?” He asks, already prying the tough shell open with his knife.

“Oh, yes please. They’re actually my favorite” You grin, and at least your voice doesn't project all the nerves you feel.

“I know” He hands you the oyster once he opens it and you try not to pay too much mind to how his fingers brush yours.

“How would you know that?” you slurp at the rich juice, grateful.

“Roxto was telling me about it” He says simply, already working open another shell to hand out.

“Oh yeah! Y/N remember when you ate so many of these that you got sick at dinner! I’ve never seen someone puke that much, it was never ending” Roxto chuckles, igniting laughter from the group.

You wince, the memory is not a particularly good one and you don't enjoy reliving it. Especially not in current company. You can feel your cheeks heat intensely.

“It was so bad! You got it all over dad’s lap and he didn't know what to do” Ao’nung adds hysterically “He just started panicking- picked you up by your tail and tossed your ass outside”

Tsireya breaks, giggling behind her hand and Kiri all but chokes. Lo’aks shaking his head good naturedly as Ao’nung and Roxto are in stitches- the only one who doesn't laugh is Neteyam. No, instead he gives you a gentle kind of smile, before going back to his task of shucking.

You’re only the butt of the joke for moments more before it ping-pongs to Lo’ak, who has almost cut one of his odd five fingers off in the process of prying open an ornery shell.

“Oh! Look brother, how pretty” Kiri points out the large blush colored pearl that Neteyam had almost swallowed.

“That’s good luck!” You grin “They don't usually get that big”

Huh. Good luck you say?” Neteyam picks it out of the shell, holding it between his thumb and pointer as he examines how it shines in the sun. Beautiful…

You’re frozen when he reaches out, the pearl in the palm of his hand.

“Here” he offers it to you.

The purple flush that completely takes over your face crawls down your neck too. You're completely flustered by the simple gesture of good will.

You should tell him that you can’t take it- that he should give it to Tuk, his little sister that loves making jewelry. Instead you’re hungry for anything, will accept any scraps of himself that Neteyam will give to you.

“Irayo” you beam as you accept the pear, tucking it away in your satchel for safe keeping. “I love it!”

He just gives you another one of those ever soft boyish grins, his eyes pools of liquid amber.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As the weeks go by, there’s a certain light to you. A bounce in your step,

“Your aura has changed” Ronal informs you of the fact as the two of you sit in the Healers Mauri, plumes of heavy incense filling the space with fragrant smoke.

She’s far into her pregnancy now, but that has never stopped her from completing her duties. The salves she mixes with an expertise that comes from years of trial and error are potent and coveted.

Your lips quirk into a private smile as your fingers continue their threading. Working on a personal project in between your chores. “Has it really?”

She assesses you, her turquoise eyes all knowing as she takes you in. You’re a woman grown now far from the small child she had taken in with her husband all those years ago. In theses last few months you have blossomed, like a flower unfurling. She had an inkling of why-

“You are thinking of accepting courtship this cycle, yes?” It’s not a question, but a statement. One she already knows the answer to.

“I am” you whisper. “If he decides to pursue me, that is”

The comfortable quiet is back, both of you focusing on your respective tasks. You’d always been content just to bask in your Aunt’s presence.

“The Sully boy would be a fool not to court you” Ronal breaks the silence bluntly and you really should've had expected that she already knew.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Where dread usually lives in your heart at this time of year, lies only excitement. Joy, that fragile hope as you prepare for the festival. Anyone who knows you can see the change, you throw yourself head first into ceremony prep. Spend hours sitting with Tsireya eagerly sowing together new pieces of clothing for the festivities.

You sing as you tend to your house work, sweet little tunes that your family is surprised to hear.

Tonowari is beaming, endlessly happy that you are going to give a member of the clan a chance. He’d been questioning your self induced isolation for years, and was eager to see which of his warriors had stolen your heart. Ronal refuses to tell him even though he knows she knows,

“It is not mine to share” his wife rebuff’s every time he questions.

As the day of the Iknimaya draws closer you try to make sure that Neteyam knows that you are open to courtship. You spend a decent amount of time with his family anyway, Tsireya and Lo’ak always connected at the hip and Kiri growing into a close friend.

You ask him about his training, tend to any wounds he may aquire diligently. Laugh at his bad jokes, and listen to his stories of home. He misses the forest, you can tell. You selfishly hope that there isn't a pretty Omaticayan girl waiting for him.

At dinner, in the largest communal mauri, filled to the brim with clans members who are all but vibrating with excitement for the close looming festivities, you navigate the people.

In your hands, a large plate made from a recycled shell piled is high. Fish roasted over the fire, steamed rice and root vegetables that you had harvested yourself.

You’d watched Neteyam along with a handful of other training warriors limp into dinner late. They look tired and worn down.

He’d plopped down next to his family without getting himself food, and that just wouldn't do.

“Jake, Neytiri- I see you” You greet his parents as you approach. The sit close together, always intertwined in one way or another.

‘He idolizes our parents marriage’

You understand Kiri’s words as you watch Toruk Makto and his mate, as you appraise their close bond.

Jake grins, Tuk in his lap. Greeting you right back, easy to conversate with. Neytiri is quieter, hard to read. Intimidating, just like Neteyam who favors her so much in looks. Still the older woman signs the greeting back to you.

“You look really rough” is not what you meant to say to their son. Neteyams brow bones rise and you could kick yourself. Definitely would later.

“Thanks, I feel it” Neteyam responds with a tired chuckle.

Instead you laugh too, albeit awkwardly, trying to remedy the situation “What I mean is, you didn't get yourself food- and I know how exhausting training can be. Here, please eat. I’d hate for you to lose strength this close to your rite”

He accepts the plate of food graciously and you try to ignore the heavy feeling of eyes on you. His families, the clans. People have noticed you, have noticed this act of service. There’s only one thing it can mean.

“Irayo Y/N, I appreciate you” he thanks, making room for you on the log that he’s sat atop “Would you like to sit with us?”

“Very much so- but I promised Elder Raou’wal that I would help him back to his mauri. His legs don't work like they used to, and I don't want him to fall again-” you curse your nature, the fact that you offer your help so freely.

All you want to do is take that seat, so close to Neteyam that your thighs would press against one and others.

“That is very kind” Neteyam soothes “It’s okay, another time”

“Yes, another time” You know you sound like an idiot. You feel like an idiot. Standing before him and his family uninvited.

You need to make a quick escape, overwhelmed by all of the attention. “Please, get some rest before tomorrow. I’ve had to tend to over worked warriors all week”

Neteyam’s grin…is something else. Something not so sweet. Something that makes you flustered, that he’s looking at you like that in front of his parents, in front of the tribe. “Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Will you be there, tomorrow?”

“Of course I will” your response is quick, eager and it just makes that look on his face more intense.

“Good. Then I know everything will go well” his words make your heart beat so loudly your ears ring.

You don’t even know what to say, can barley keep your cool as you utter goodbye to his family, all of them quite obviously amused as you begin to scurry away.

You know the blush is burning up your whole face, that everyone can see your feelings as clear as day.

But-

You can’t leave him like that. Not with him facing is Iknimaya in the morning, with all of its promises of danger.

“May Eywa be with you, tomorrow and always” you give him the quiet blessing, truly hoping that the great mother looks over him.

He softens, physically. All of him slumping, as though you had put a balm on a jagged cut.

You don't wait for a reply.

Tonowari watches the exchange from his place at the head of the room,

Oh.

That is who had caught your eye, the warrior that had broken your resolve.

He shares a look with Ronal, his eyes comically wide and she laughs lowly at him.

“Ah my love, you have always been so slow”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The Iknimaya rituals go as they always go, a long day full of young, strong hearted Na’vi eager to prove themselves. Most of them don’t succeed, at least half of them will need to wait until the next cycle to attempt it again.

Your family is at the center, you stand proudly behind Olo’eyktan Tonowari and Tsahik Ronal as they guide the young clan members through the rite of passage. Tsireya beside you, knowing that next cycle it will be her and Lo’ak attempting their own rites. Ao’nung cheering on young hunters that he had trained himself.

You love all of your people, the Metkayina one beating heart under Eywa’s watchful eye- yet you can't tear your focus away from Neteyam.

Your eyes are glued to him, and him only. The entire time. You watch, anxious and in awe. He’s so strong, all lean muscle and sharp mind. He mounts his Skimwing on the first try, much to the surprise of his peers. The people cheer him on, whopping loudly.

He’s beautiful, capable and skilled. He’s…stolen something from you. Abducted your soul, enthralled your thoughts in a way that almost felt intrusive.

You watch as the son of the first becomes a son of the sea, a man in both the Metkayina and Omiticaya tribes. A feat that almost none have accomplished.

The Motnaui is tradition, the freshly rited hunters will join the seasoned on a days long hunt. The time in the open ocean solidifies their bond to the tribe, their place that they have earned. Their chief will join them. Tonowari is eager, ecstatic for the time he gets to spend with his new hunters. With his ever growing tribe.

Everyone gathers to see the hunters off, so much love filling the crowded beach. Your people a buzz, tearful. Joyous.

You trail your fingers over the colorful Lei that lies around your neck. It matches the floral wreath nestled atop your head; the orchids are vibrant shades of fuchsia pinks and sunset yellows to represent your family.

They come in all shades, neon greens and baby blues, lilac purples and vibrant reds.

They are traded between your people at this time of year. Elders give them to children, sisters to their brothers. Tonowari wears many around his neck, the visual representation of how beloved he is to his clan.

To give a Lei can be friendly and platonic, sure. Especially if it is one of the dozens that are made just to be handed out- if a person wears multiple for clear decoration and celebration purposes only.

It can also be a very clear invitation for courtship- or at the very least consensual coupling. If a woman takes her lei off her own neck and presents it to a man, it is a sign of ownership. Marking that the specific male is taken for the duration of the fertility season.

You need to give Neteyam yours before he leaves, you want him to know that he has you. That you are his- and that you want him to be yours. That you will wait for him as he hunts and when he returns, he can have all of you.

You’re trying to find him in the crowd, your eyes scanning for the familiar dark blue skin that stands out so shockingly amongst your people-

Neteyam is with his family, all of them exuding proud energy. His mother cups his face in her lithe hands, his sisters hold onto his arms. His father pats his shoulder and his brother stares at him like he’s hung the stars.

You don't want to intrude on the moment, but you have to catch him before he leaves-

It’s like watching a horrible accident, like being witness to carnage that you just can't stop.

Seychelle, a clans member two years your junior, is beautiful. She’s a skilled singer and the daughter of a high ranking fisherman. She’s tall and shapely with pretty eyes, and its her first cycle as an eligible adult. As a woman grown who is available to mate.

She walks right up to Neteyam and his family boldly. Unafraid or ridden by anxiety like you always seem to be. All flirty smiles and fluttering lashes.

You’re too far away, can't hear what she says but you wouldn't want to anyway. Your chest is caving in and you feel like you can't breathe, your ears ring with the lack of oxygen.

You could challenge her. You have a high standing in the clan. You have first choice when it comes to mates,

But instead you just stand there. Bare witness to her taking off her bright orange Lei and slip it around Neteyams neck. He accepts it without a fuss, grinning and you can see his mouth form the words “thank you”.

Your nose burns and tears prick threateningly at your eyes but you know you can not let them fall. Not here.

You do what you do best;

You run away.

Not bothering to explain your exit to anyone, you probably couldn't form words around the lump in your throat anyway, you run as fast as you can. The world feels very far away, like it exists without you in it.

Your family mauri is empty, everyone's still at the beach and you don't even bother making it to your bed. You collapse right inside the entrance as the tears finally over take you and your eyes flood over.

What were you thinking?

How had you read this whole thing so wrong?

Your mind is dangerous, cruel in its confused, hurt state. It assaults you and you sob into your hands. You feel stupid now, in the special clothes you'd donned. Your hair twisted meticulously-

He had never been interested in you, you’d taken his innate kindness and skewed it. Neteyam had just been nice to you and you being the simple minded girl you were- had tried to force it into something more.

You curse yourself, curse your heart. Curse that fragile hope that you had clung to so desperately.

You cry until you feel sick, your eyes swollen and back tight from sobbing. You’re dizzy and tired by the time you crawl over to your bed. You don't even get under the covers, just stare blankly at the wall of the mauri as tears roll down your cheeks.

Who knew one person could produce so many tears? You wonder when your body will run out. You don't know how much time passes, only aware that darkness starts to fill the space as the evening eclipse arises.

“Oh, YN” the silence is broken by your cousin's soft voice.

Tsireya had wondered where you had gone, had been confused about your departure until she clocked Neteyam with a Lei around his neck that was quite obviously not yours.

“I’m sorry” Is all she whispers as she slips into the bed next to you, her arm winding around your middle.

It starts a whole nother round of tears. Of crying, mourning what you thought you could have.

“I-I-I’m so s-stupid” you stutter, snotty and muffled. She shakes her head, tears of her own starting to form as she holds you tighter.

“No, don't say that cousin. You’re not stupid” Tsireya soothes as she pets your hair. It hurts to see you in such a state. This had to be a mistake, she had been so sure of Neteyams feelings for you. Everyone had.

You shake your head, because you know you are. You knew you had little chance and still you’d paraded yourself in front of him like an idiot.

Never again, you vow to yourself.

To your shattered heart.

Wow, okay I didnt expect this to be so big, but I got so caught up in Metkayina Lore building that I kind of got sidetracked. Safe to say 90% of this story is going to be canon divergent. All of this Lore is my own creation and not Mr. Cameron's.

I have to give a shout out to two authors in the Avatar fandom that have inspired me the most as I write this.

@tiredmamaissy has really carved out a niche when it comes to the sexual nature of Pandora. I love the way she portrays Na'vi relationships and if this story leans a bit A/B/O its because I cant see the Na've not going to Heat's/Ruts now. She's just so good.

@loaksky when I tell you that reading her work makes me want to hone my craft, I mean that shit. She is a wordsmith in a way that you don't see much anymore. I am obsessed with how she long hand story tells and I def feel inspired everytime I read one of her fics. Queen of will they wont they/ slow burn.

#neteyam smut #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar smut #smut #aged up neteyam #neteyam x you #Metkayina reader

3K notes · View notes

dollfacefantasy · 2 months

Note

neglect kink with older leon???!!?!? like… you’re super horny whining and begging for his attention and he’s just. completely ignoring you. maybe he eventually lets you cockwarm him but he’s still ignoring you… the only way you know he’s enjoying this is because he’s still hard… no sounds or nothing. you’re so desperate for ANYTHING a kiss, a touch, literally any words at all but he’s just focused on his work!!! maybe daddy kink because everything needs daddy kink… maybe, like, you did something bad so this is your punishment… i don’t know… maybe he gives you the attention eventually or not!!!!

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you've been bad, but you never seem to learn from spankings. leon has to try something new to remind you why you should be a good girl.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, cockwarming, masturbation, overstimulation, daddy kink, praise/degradation, age difference, dom/sub stuff (rules, punishment, etc.)

word count: 6.2k

a/n: you're so right, everything does need daddy kink <3 thank you for the request, love. i hope it's what you were wanting. i imagine post-DI leon for this so he's a bit older, but i just used DI for the pic. anyhow, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

Your deep breaths and soft whimpers had overtaken the quiet murmur of the tv in your bedroom. An old movie played on it, one you had seen time and time again. It no longer had your attention. Instead, you’re focusing on playing with the pulsing bud between your legs. Your fingers thrum back and forth over the sensitive spot, hips pushing down against the mattress as sparks fly in your belly.

Technically, you weren’t supposed to be doing this. It was one of the rules you agreed to when Leon had approached you with some things he wanted to try out for your sex life, just a small set of guidelines to play with. ‘No touching yourself without daddy’s permission' had been listed among others. He counted each one on his fingers as he did, and you nodded your head and looked up at him with your sweet set of eyes. The same set that now flutters with ecstasy as you played your forbidden game. But as long as he didn’t know, it was fine, right?

Your heels dig into the blankets beneath you while your breasts rise and sink with each inhale and exhale. You feel that hot sensation between your legs, the tightening cord, the boiling pleasure. You’re about to let it loose until you hear the front door open and shut, keys clatter on the table, and the familiar grunt Leon does when he slips his shoes off, using the tip of one on the heel of the other.

You nearly miss these little cues because of the rain clashing against your windows, but in a stroke of luck, you catch it all and tear your hand out of your shorts at light speed. Leon’s just walking into the bedroom as you drape the blanket over yourself. Shifting around a little to get comfy, you then gaze up at him, putting some tenderness into your eyes in hopes of throwing him off your scent.

As he gets closer, you take in his appearance. Little droplets of water on the shoulders of his jacket from the rain outside. Shiny hair fresh from the shower he took this morning, shaggy bangs hanging down into his face. Tired glaze over his eyes, work must not have been a walk in the park.

Once he approaches you, he raises his eyebrows, and for a second, you’re sure you’ve been found out. But all he does is sit next to you on the edge of the bed and run a hand over your head. His eyes fixate on you as if he’s studying your features. Your heart pounds, waiting to hear the words belt, over my knee, or sore & stinging leave his lips, but they don’t.

“Been having a nice day, baby?” he asks you, petting your head a few more times.

“Mhm,” you respond. Innocent enough.

“That’s good. What have you been doing?” he asks. Oh fuck.

“Um, just watching a movie,” you answer.

“Yeah? That all?” he continues. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Pretty much. It’s all rainy out. Don’t really feel like getting out of bed,” you say with a casual shrug.

He nods. It seems like an approving gesture, but you could swear there’s a little knowing glint in his eyes. Maybe that’s just your imagination. Hopefully, that’s just your imagination.

“Alright. I gotta go finish up some work for a while, just wanted to check on you first. Keep being a good girl for me,” he tells you. He gives you a small pat on the ass before getting up and walking out of the room as quickly as he had entered.

Your body relaxes, and your pulse descends to normal levels. Maybe you did pull it off. Heist of the century in your book. You settle in to truly just pay attention to the tv for now, but it’s not as simple as it should be when you’re still so pent up. You’d just breached the threshold of release, before you were torn out and back to reality. You could feel the slick that had gathered between your legs, the ache in your clit calling out to your fingers.

The thought of continuing does cross your mind. It would be so easy. Without any suspicion on you, all you would have to do is clamp a hand over your mouth and rub slower so the bed didn't creak. Plus, when he went in his office, he usually worked until the evening anyway. You could cum and be done with it before he had the slightest idea.

No, no, no. You told him you’d be a good girl. You wouldn’t wanna break daddy’s heart by being bad, right? No, you wanted to make him proud. You resign to wait until he wants to play with you. He always did; you can’t recall a night he left you wanting. So you lay on your side, eyes focused on the blue-tinted screen across the room, and keep it together.

But hours go by. And then more hours go by. You keep yourself occupied, marathoning nearly an entire franchise of movies, eating, going on your phone. But none of it fills the Leon-shaped void inside you.

This was the longest he’d ever been in that office. He never worked in there into the night. He always told you that he tried to spend as little time in there as possible. That’s time that could be spent with his good girl, that’s what he told you. Only you hadn’t been a good girl today.

You shake your head, and tell the stupid little voice inside to zip it. He seemed tired, remember? This is probably just an extension of that. He knew he’d have to come home and be in his office all day. It was all a coincidence, this whole thing. There was literally no way he could know what you’d been doing. But daddy knows you better than you know yourself.

Oh god. This was like some form of torture, you’re sure of it. Self-inflicted, or was it really? He was the one who’d made you this way. Whatever. Enough was enough. There was no reason to be paranoid. You could literally just go ask him. Sort this out and soothe your anxiety, so you can go back to waiting patiently like the good girl that you are.

Pushing the covers to the side, you slide out of bed and head down the hall to his office as thunder crackles outside. A gentle push on one of the French doors leads you into the room you rarely entered. Despite that, you liked it in here. Leon’s desk faced away from the door, towards the window that looked out onto the street. The curtains were drawn now, brown fringe overlapping with the spare cushions on the window seat below it. Some bookshelves lined the walls perpendicular to his desk, though you never had the time to actually check their contents.

You walk a few paces into the room. Your eyes cast over to him. He doesn’t even look like he’s doing much for someone working into the night, but who are you to judge? You step over a crinkle in the rug to stand in front of his desk. Your hands rest on the hardwood as you gaze at him over the monitor of his computer.

“Hi,” you say simply.

He nods. A movement so vague that he could’ve told you his head twitched, and you’d believe him.

“Whatcha doing?” you ask.

“Work.”

You stare at him for a moment. Sure, he wasn’t normally super chatty, but he also wasn’t usually so clipped. He knows.

“How’s it going?” you say.

You’re met with a shrug. You have to up your efforts.

Circling around his desk, you position yourself behind him and wrap your arms over his shoulders. You drag your nose against his cheek like an affectionate kitten and kiss the skin a few times.

“How much longer you gonna be in here?” you ask. Your voice remains gentle and undemanding.

“A while,” he grunts. The clacking of the keyboards starts up again, and his eyes remain locked on the documents in front of him.

“But you’ve been in here for hours,” you point out and feign a pout.

“And I’ll be in here for even more if you keep bothering me,” he says with a little gesture that wasn’t fully shrugging you off but at the same time was shrugging you off.

Ouch. Your pout was no longer feigned. You stand up straight and walk back to where you stood originally. He still doesn’t spare you even the smallest of glances.

“Can I stay in here with you?” you ask hesitantly.

“If you want to,” he says. Wow. Not that he wanted you to, no. If you wanted to. Sure, people could call you sensitive for being upset about that, you don’t care. You’re tempted to leave with a huff, slamming the door behind you, but now you’re even more curious if he was aware of your illicit afternoon activities. You kinda hope he is at this point because at least that would give a reason for his icy attitude.

You walk over to the one other chair in the room. Yeah, there was the window seat, but as pretty as you’d made it for him, decorating it with little throw pillows and cute coverings, it wasn’t very comfortable. You plop down on the corduroy cushioning of the beaten-up seat in the corner. with a sigh. Bringing your legs up over the armrest, you lean back against the opposite one and scan the room out of boredom. Your feet swing back and forth absentmindedly as you puff breaths of disinterest from between your lips.

You really try to give him time to finish, but it feels like he’s taking actual eternity. Also, it sounds like he’s barely doing anything, and now you are going to judge because he’s cutting into your precious personal time with him. You stare at him for several minutes, keeping your eyes locked on his face. Unlike any normal person who’d get uncomfortable, he just continues “working.” Finally, you crack.

“How’s it going?” you ask.

No response.

“Are you almost done?” you try again.

Nothing.

Your eyes darken, your frown growing. “Leonnnnn,” you whine.

And still absolutely nothing. You have one more weapon in your arsenal. If this doesn’t work, you know you’ll just have to pack it up for the night.

“Daddy…” you whimper, using the softest voice you could manage, the one that always shot right through him. You jut your bottom lip out a bit more and put that pleading in your eyes. After this, all you have is literal tears, and you’re hoping it doesn’t go to that point.

Leon knows this, and he doesn’t want it to get that far either. He finally spins his chair in your direction. His eyes land on your face. He has to repress the smirk rising to his face over your neediness.

“Funny how that name seems to always slip out most when you want something,” he replies.

At least he wasn’t ignoring you anymore. “All I want is your attention…” you say, keeping up your sweet performance.

“Oh yeah?” he taunts, “Tell me, baby. Were you thinking of daddy today when you were home alone?”

Your eyes dart away from his face, but you force them back. You couldn’t blow this by being too obvious, so you respond with a simple nod.

“I thought so, princess. What else would have had you so riled up today when I came home? It wouldn’t be because you were breaking one of your rules, would it?” he asks. His tone was obviously leading. He knew. You were so desperate for him though that at this point you were starting to think a spanking wouldn’t be that bad. At least it was some form of physical contact to sate you.

“I wasn’t riled up earlier,” you say quietly with a little shrug.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re not lying are you? Cause that’s another rule. Two broken rules in one day. That wounds me, babydoll,” he says.

“I’m not breaking any rules. I’m being honest,” you say.

“So you being all squirmy, hot skin, heavy breathing; that wasn’t you being riled up? Is daddy imagining things now? Do I not know what my girl looks like when she’s aching for me?” he asks, “What she looks like when she’s been trying to solve her little problem herself?”

Finally, he unveils his reasoning. You freeze and stare at him, trying to think of what to say. Even though you wanted attention, there was still that innate part of you that hated being in trouble. You’d much rather be perched on his lap to be loved on like the precious thing you were.

“I don’t know what you mean,” is your weak attempt at an excuse. He laughs and leans back in his chair, the old springs creaking with his motion.

“Did you put your fingers inside or just play with that pretty little clit?” he asks, eyes boring into you as he goes for the kill.

“Just my clit…” you mumble and look down.

Shaking his head again, he turns back to his computer. You watch him, expecting him to start in on you again. To lecture you about your impatience. Tease you about your borderline pathetic need for him. Take you over his knee and crack you on the ass while making you repeat each of your rules back to him.

But none of this happens. Instead, this man just goes back to straight up ignoring you. Your jaw drops and a confused whine comes from your throat. “Daddy, c’mon. I’m sorry,” you say.

He resumes typing, fingers gliding over the keys and eyes fixed on the little words appearing in front of him. You groan in frustration and sink back against the brown ribbed fabric of your chair. You glare at him from your place, trying to telepathically will him into entertaining you again. You must be lacking in mental communication though because he doesn’t change what he’s doing at all. One of your thighs crosses over the other, unintentionally giving your pussy a little friction.

That’s what made this all the more frustrating, you were still unsatisfied from earlier. You should’ve just made yourself cum like you wanted. You’d be in trouble either way. You could only hope he’d take it easy on you now for having chosen the former.

Different scenarios run through your head for how you want to play this. A spectrum of possibilities lies in front of you. On one end, you could just leave. Keep whatever dignity you had left, cut your losses, and go to bed. On the other, you could be over the top. Hop in his lap and smother him with a flurry of kisses before he could object. Either one would probably only earn you more punishment, so you try to think of a middle ground. A way to continue the game.

As you think, your right hand lazily runs up and down your chest. Your middle finger coasts over the area spanning from the valley between your breasts to your navel. Taking your lip between your teeth, you decide to start here. Your fingers move to your tits and round your nipples. The buds harden into small peaks beneath your shirt. You pinch and pull at them gently, and your cunt flutters in response to the teasing. You shift your hips up before shimmying your shorts off and letting them drop to the ground beside your chair.

You reposition yourself next to sit properly in the chair. Your heels come to rest on the plush cushion as you spread your legs and expose your damp panties to him. Not that he bothered to look.

Now your fingers moved down there. They pet your most sensitive area over the thin, wet cloth. Your breath hitches as your fingertips brush over your clit. You press down a little harder and make a soft breathy whine. His eyes flit in your direction, but they don’t linger. Take what you can get, you guess.

You slide your digits back down and massage your dripping entrance. The fabric becomes more wet as you rub it on your slick folds. Your middle and ring finger move in tandem to stoke the flames down there and to ensure the fabric is completely soaked. Once that mission is accomplished, you lift your hips for the second time to remove this garment. Only you don’t drop it to the floor. This time you toss them in his direction, landing them on his desk, lace half covering one of his wrists, half covering a section of his keyboard.

The sound of typing halts, putting the room into silence, spare the raindrops splatting against the window. His eyes remain stern and not on you. Without even looking down, he wads the panties up and shoves them in his pocket. The sound of typing resumes.

“Daddy,” you huff, “I got ‘em all wet just for you.”

He still doesn’t acknowledge you. You let out a growl of sorts and narrow your eyes at him. Your fingers slip through your arousal coating your center. You pay more attention to your clit now that it’s exposed.

“I just missed you so much today. I couldn’t help it,” you reason.

You whimper and squirm in your chair as you start rubbing faster. Your eyes are still locked on him, watching for the slightest crack in his resolve. So far there are none. You continue toying with yourself.

“I was thinking of you the whole time,” you whimper, “That should count for something. I was imagining your hands and your eyes looking down at me. I was pretending I could hear your voice.”

He remains unaffected. Your head tilts back against the plush cushioning as your hips rock in place. You mewl softly which soon turns into a long, drawn-out whine. Finally, he shifts in his seat a little, and you know right away it’s cause he’s starting to get hard.

“I just love you so much, daddy. Can’t control myself when you’re not around,” you say, further chipping away at the little dent in his stoic facade.

Your moans increase in volume as does the slippery sounds coming from your fingers moving through your slick. That feeling from this afternoon is starting to come back. Pleasure builds in your abdomen, one piece stacking on top of the other. You’re shaking more, voice getting less even with each little cry of joy. He finally turns to look at you when you start doing that thing you do when you’re about to cum, the ultra-specific puff of your chest that rolls through your abdomen to your hips. His eyes capture yours, unamused with your antics.

“If you cum right now, a spanking is the only kind of attention you’ll be getting until you learn some self-control,” he tells you.

In an instant, your fingers sputter to a stop. Your mind bounces back and forth on what to do like a metronome. But as always, your craving for Leon’s approval wins out over every other option. You remove your hand from between your legs and even sit up, closing your thighs. Maybe now, he’ll see you’re being good and cut you some slack.

Yeah, right.

He goes back to his computer. Again. You’re about to lose your mind or explode, you aren’t sure which will come first. Standing from the chair, you start walking to his desk. He still didn’t look at you! How rude, you’d think that the touching yourself rule was his favorite or something even though you knew it wasn’t. That title belonged to the rule that let him pick your outfit whenever the two of you went out.

A few paces in his direction, and you’re back right where you started. Arms looped over his shoulders, nuzzling your face against his cheek, and kissing the side of his head. “I said I’m sorry daddy,” you say softly, “I’m really really really really sorry. I know I was a bad girl, but only for that.”

He grunts and scoots closer to his desk, away from your embrace. A noise of exasperation leaves you, and without thinking, you roll the chair back a couple inches and embrace him again, only tighter. A grin rises on your face when you see the bulge that had formed in his lap.

“Pretty please? I’ll take whatever punishment. I don’t want daddy to be mad at me anymore,” you plead and give him some more pecks on the cheek. You knew you probably looked ridiculous, pantless and visibly horny, but that wasn’t a true concern at this moment in time.

“Go to bed,” he states simply, “I’ll deal with you later.”

That wasn’t good enough. You wanted him now.

“Daddy,” you whine, stretching out the last syllable. You lower yourself to your knees and slink down in front of his chair. “C’mon, I said it like a million billion trillion times. Can’t we just kiss and make up?”

He stares down at you, not impressed with your show of submission. He was playing harder than usual. He knew that wouldn’t deter you though. You squish your cheek against his thighs as your hands creep up his legs.

“Do I have to make a special apology?” you ask, looking up at him with puppy eyes.

He pushes your hands away as they reach his thighs. “Quit it,” he growls, “Let me finish my work and maybe we can work something out.”

But you don’t quit it. You move yourself closer to one of his legs, preparing to put on a little show for him if need be. Your eyes don’t quit and neither does the pleading expression on your mouth.

“But I need my daddy now,” you huff, “I-”

And that’s it. You’re cut off by Leon reaching down and yanking you into his lap.

“Such a fuckin’ brat,” he grunts, “Ready to hump my leg like a bitch in heat cause I don’t give you attention for a couple hours.”

You squirm a bit as his hands rub up and down your sides and squeeze your hips. He stills you with a firm slap to your ass. Both of your eyes gaze into the others, the small spheres swirling with arousal, annoyance, and adoration.

“I just missed you. I would’ve left you alone if you weren’t so mean to me,” you point out.

“Who says I have to be nice to you? You don’t get to decide when you wanna listen based on that,” he says and pulls you to his chest. You lean in against the muscular expanse while his hand snakes between the two of you to get at his button and zipper. “Your job is being a good girl. Not just when you feel like it. Not only when daddy’s giving you kisses and calling you pretty. The only time you stop is when I say, and that didn’t happen today did it? Am I imagining things again?”

“No,” you agree reluctantly, “But I-”

“Cut your yapping out. I’ve heard enough. Give me some quiet or I’ll put those panties to good use,” he threatens.

As your lips fall shut, you hear the tug of his zipper and feel him shift as he takes himself out. Now you’re really quiet, more from anticipation than obedience.

“Now I’m gonna let you sit on my cock, but that’s it. No squirming, no ‘getting comfy,’ no whining, no ‘but daddy.’ You act up too much, and I’m truly sending your ass to bed for the night.”

You look up at him and nod, not even speaking because you didn’t want to cut your chances at dick off before they started.

“Good,” he says.

One of his hands helps elevate you so that he can position his length underneath you. The tip slips through your folds, already soaked from your prior escapades. He doesn’t tease too much, wasn’t interested in hearing you beg right now. He’d heard enough of that for tonight. He pushes you down onto it. His mouth twitches, and he sucks in a deep breath as he feels the warmth of your walls engulf his cock.

You slide all the way down with ease. Looking back at his face again, you feel the insatiable urge to give him a little kiss. If you did that though, would that be one of the things you aren’t supposed to be doing?

“Daddy… can I have a little kiss first?” you ask.

He merely shoots you a look that tells you don’t push it.

With a final look of defeat, you nestle yourself against his chest, head on his shoulder so you can look up at his face. He was so focused. If you didn’t know you were here, you never would suspect he’d be up to this level of multitasking.

You let out a sigh. It was nice being full, but you still yearned for more. You were really trying to be good though, so there wasn’t much for you to do. Minutes tick by as you try in earnest to think of a potential solution. To make matters worse, at a certain point, after you’d been on his dick for a while, his hand starts roaming your back. A soothing touch that made your walls flutter around him. He knew it would too, you could tell from that little smirk on his face.

Trying to focus on the positives, you mentally study every feature of his cock that you can feel. It’s so deep, he’s resting right against the spot that could drive you wild when properly battered. It pulsed rhythmically, twitching slightly when your muscles would contract or release around his shaft.

You’re actually doing better than expected, letting your mind wander. But then, he’s the one to move a bit under the guise of necessary readjustment. The whimper that falls from your lips is inevitable. He shushes you, and you mutter an apology, but that simple movement was enough to reignite the fire in your belly.

You bite your lip, the neediness in your eyes intensifying. “Daddy?” you whisper, testing the waters.

Nothing.

So he had gone back to this? Not if you could help it. You don’t bother speaking again. Instead, you move the tiniest bit, rolling your hips as you act like you’re shifting to alleviate a cramp. To your shock, he doesn’t say anything, just shifts his hips a bit in return.

You glance up hopefully. Maybe he was going to ease up, but he just didn’t want to verbally admit it. You move a little more, but this time, you’re a bit too zealous in your attempt. His hands grab your hips and dig into your flesh, keeping you in place.

You’re so pent up and frustrated. Your forehead thuds back onto his shoulder. “Ple-”

“What did I say?” he asks.

“But da-”

“What did I say?” he asks again and tightens his grip.

“I just wanna cum,” you whimper, “It hurts, been achy all day.”

“Oh it hurts, does it?” he mocks. He jerks your hips to give you some fleeting friction while maintaining his control. “What is it about today that’s making it so hard for you to listen?”

“I-” you start to defend yourself out of instinct but can’t actually come up with anything. “I don’t know.”

“That’s right you don’t. So quit acting like you do. You think with that slutty little pussy, and then act like you don’t need daddy to make the decisions. It’s a little disappointing, babydoll,” he scolds.

Your eyes flicker with every stage of grief as he says this. That’s literally the worst thing he could say. He could call you any name in the book and you’d brush it off with an eyeroll or a “hmph.” But disappointing? That was evil. That word could worm its way into your heart and weigh on you for days.

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly in a desperate attempt to remedy, “I just… I’m so pent up. Can’t think with my head when my pussy keeps distracting me.”

“Oh, poor baby,” he mocks with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

“That’s why I have to cum,” you plead, “I need it. It’s not even the same when I do it. I should’ve just waited. I’m sorry.”

“You need it?” he repeats, “So fuckin’ spoiled. I give you some dick even when you don’t deserve it, and it’s still not enough. I gotta train some gratitude into you next.”

“You’re the one who spoils me,” you pout.

“Oh, so it’s all my fault? So you’re saying I shouldn’t be so easy on you, huh?” he challenges.

You shake your head as fast as humanly possible, now set on backtracking your fuck up. But it was too late. “No, I was just sayi-” you start before he cuts you off yet again.

“And just when I was about to start fucking you too? That’s a damn shame,” he says.

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head more. This had gone from a slight improvement to a downward spiral.

“I mean, why would I bother now? All you care about is getting to cum. Don’t care about all the work daddy puts in to make you feel good the entire time,” he taunts, “If that’s the case, then go ahead. Cum. Take what you want, but don’t you dare move those hips.”

Your look of anguish evolves into that of confusion. You don’t really want to question him right now, but you’re unsure of how you’re supposed to follow that command. “I can’t…” you say softly.

“Why not?” he asks.

“Not enough,” you answer.

“Then make it enough,” he growls, “You were having so much fun today with those fingers. They don’t work anymore?”

Oh. Your face feels hot as the realization dawns on you. You shyly bring your hand to your center and awkwardly fumble with your clit. You look at him, silently begging to ride him.

“You can do better than that,” he responds, “You were putting on such a show earlier, so don’t act like you need my help all the sudden.”

Shamefully, your fingers pick up some speed. You whimper as the pads of your digits rub over a sensitive spot. The whole time he’s still inside you. It felt kind of weird, but still good. You weren’t going to complain. Your upper body twitches a bit, but he holds you straight up, making sure you're looking at him while you work.

“That’s it. How’s it feeling, baby? Is it as good as when daddy does it?” he taunts.

“No…” you whimper, “It’s ok.”

“Aw, well, it’s gonna have to be good enough for now because it’s the only way you’re cumming.”

You groan and whine at the statement. It was the truth, but that didn’t mean you wanted to hear it. You start circling faster and flicking your hand with more urgency. Your head falls back at the sensations as a breathy moan floats from your lips. He squeezes your hips again as you tighten around his cock from the euphoria you brought yourself.

“Look at that. Think you’re gonna be able to cum all by yourself?” he teases.

You nod. Your hips rock involuntarily as the pleasure ramps up, but his grip keeps you stationary. Little gasps like the ones from earlier when you were in the chair escape you. Your fingers move almost like they’re automated.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Please can I finish?” you whimper, “Wanna cum so bad, daddy, please?”

“I already gave you permission, baby. Guess you really wanna show me how good you actually are,” he chuckles.

You can’t even say anything back before the switch flips inside you and release tears through you. Your back stiffens up and a strangled rope of moans come out of you. Your hips jerk harder than before, giving you brief brushes with the head of his cock. He sighs contentedly as you flutter around his cock and provide him with a muted sense of bliss.

You’re still riding it out when his hands are no longer just holding you, but rather, beginning to bounce you. You feel it in your cunt before your brain even catches up with the general motion of your body. It’s because you’re still so sensitive. The tingly stab pulling a quiet shriek from you.

“Daddy, gimme a break,” you whine.

“What? Daddy doesn’t deserve to finish too? Is that what you think? You just get to have your fun, and leave me to deal with it. That’s not how it works, princess,” he says.

“I’m not- I didn’t… I just can’t… it’s too much,” you struggle to get out between the whimpers coming from you. He keeps bouncing you, groaning as that hushed ecstasy blossoms into an encompassing euphoria. The noises of him sliding in and out are nearly louder than all the whining and moaning you’re doing.

“You can take it,” he grunts, “I’ll say when you’ve had enough.”

You cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain as his hips start to meet your hips guided by his hands. A deep groan rumbles in his chest as your cunt’s constant contracting massages his length. After a while, it feels like you’re almost numb down there. The fire still rages in your belly, but your actual pussy has been beaten into submission by your boyfriend’s cock. He watches your face as he moves you, relishing the way your eyes are getting glossy with a cocktail of tears, both of overstimulation and relief.

“So pretty for me, sweetheart. Gonna be even prettier when you cum again all over my dick and milk me dry,” he grunts.

“Uh huh,” you moan without thinking, head wildly falling back and forth in what’s supposed to be a nod.

Soon enough, his chest and belly are tightening up. He knows the end is near and pistons into your cunt extra hard for the finale. You wail and grip his biceps for support as you explode. You didn’t ask to cum this time, but being so close to his own release, he couldn’t really find it to care.

He keeps going through your orgasm, practically making you sob in pleasure. You feel impossibly tight, warm, and wet. And when he sees how your precious face is getting tight too, scrunching up as you reach the peak of the peak, he can’t hold it off.

His fingers dig into your hips so hard that you feel like the future bruises are already there. Your eyes are rolled back in advance as he fires his cum deep inside you. A goofy smile graces his features as he pumps it in, enjoying the waves of pleasure that wash over him throughout. And the whole time you’re pulsing away through your own release.

You look even dumber than he does, silly smile not just on your lips, but visible in your eyes too. You’re whimpering, extra whiny and a higher pitch. He rubs your skin to remind you he’s right there. He can see your head coming back to reality as the whirlpool of ecstasy subsides.

“Oh that’s it, there’s my good girl,” he coos as you finally reach the end of the high. His hand rubs your back in long, even strokes. “So proud of you, sunshine.”

A dreamy, self-satisfied grin comes across your face. His words were the best drugs while you were in this state, and the tone of his voice only made them that much more addictive.

“Such a good girl,” he repeats, “Now how ‘bout you give daddy a kiss.”

Eagerly you boost yourself towards his lips to connect in a hazy smooch. You’re a bit sloppy with it, but he expected that and found it cute. Of course you were dizzy. He just fucked you stupid. Once you pull away, he strokes your hair and smiles at your blissed out face.

“Aw, cutie. Looks like it’s time for you to head to bed,” he says as his fingers move to rub your cheek.

“You too. I wanna cuddle,” you say, locking your arms around him.

“Mhm, I’ll be right behind you. I gotta finish up the last of this. Now that I don’t have you distracting me, it should only take about fifteen minutes,” he teases.

“That’s like a million years, and I already had to wait all day,” you sigh dramatically.

“Then I’m sure you can handle a few more minutes,” he says and rubs his nose against yours, “Don’t start getting mouthy with me, little love. I still have those panties I can easily turn into a gag.”

With a playful glare, you get up on wobbly legs to make your exit, dizzy smile still plastered on your face. You start to stumble to the door when he calls out to you.

“Wow princess, not even going to say good night to daddy? I expected better from my baby,” he chides teasingly.

You roll your eyes while smiling and return to him to smack one final big kiss on his lips. “Night daddy,” you say with a small giggle.

He smirks at your clear happiness. As you turn to leave, he swats your ass. “I’ll be right there. Bet you’ll already be passed out by the time I get there,” he says as his fingers start working the keyboard again.

“I’ll be dreaming of you though,” you tease before going out the doors and down the hall to your bed.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil x you #smut

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sadhours · 1 month

Text

quit acting like a puppy • part one

BILLY HARGROVE x F!READER

masterlist

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, dirty talk, rough sex, spitting, oral (m & f receiving), slapping, name calling, p in v, unprotected, friends with benefits, enemies (?) to lovers, pining

summary: you hook up with Billy and it’s great but you’re not looking for anything serious. but he can’t get enough of you.

Your fingertips move over his abs, drunken eyes focused on the way they flex and as they glance up, you catch a wicked smirk and darkened blue eyes staring back at you.

“C’mon, babe,” he purrs, “go ahead and get your fill before I keep them hands busy.”

In your intoxicated state, his words work but if you were just a smidge more sober, you’d cringe at them. You feel down his hip bones, down where his muscles point down to the thing in his pants he was bragging about back at the bar, the reason you’re even at his apartment in the first place. Sure the rest of him is gorgeous, but he talked a big game about his uh, endowment.

You drop to your knees, rolling your eyes at his comment before licking at the skin right above the waistband of his jeans. He loses a bit of composure from it and the way you scratch manicured nails down the sides of him. Makes a pretty sound that inflates your ego and has you sucking bruises against his golden skin. He shaved recently, the hairs barely there and you think it makes him more sensitive. Billy cards his fingers through your hair, tugs at the roots and chuckles out a breathy, “Guess your tongue works, too.”

“Oh, my tongue works. You’ll see,” you tell him confidently, licking a broad stroke up his abs as you unbutton his Levi’s and tug them down around his ankles.

You move down to mouth his hard on over his briefs and Billy groans. You glance up to catch his head tilting back with pleasure and you’ve barely even started, it makes you smirk against him. Focusing on the head, your hand moves to cup his balls and you’re quick at work making the fabric of his briefs soaked where his tip is. Sucking and licking. When you squeeze Billy’s balls, he lets out a louder noise and his hips jerk forward as he pulls on your hair. You can taste the saltiness of his precum seeping through the material and you hum happily against him. Billy attempts to shove your face against his crotch harder but you push on his thighs, pulling away from him.

“Sit,” you tell him, nodding to his bed, “Take them off.”

As Billy steps back, he pushes his briefs down to his ankles and kicks them off along with his jeans. Sits on the bed, palms on the sheets and spreads his legs for you. It’s easy to scoot between his feet, smoothing your hands up his thighs and scratching down them as you admire his cock and balls. He’s thick, mushroom tip shaped perfectly and it’s pink, leaking out the slit and dripping down the shaft. His balls are heavy but tight, sit pretty on the sheets and you think you’ll start with them. A quick glance up to make sure his eyes are on you before you lean down and graze your lips against his sack, feeling the weight of his cock against your face.

“Christ,” he breathes out, watching you intently, “you’re a fucking nymph, aren’t ya?”

You reply by licking at his balls, looking up at him with wide eyes. Nose nudging his shaft with your motions. The dude has stars in his eyes. You’ve had plenty of experience in this department but you’re determined to impress him because he might be the hottest one on the roster. You take the time to admire him, sculpted muscles corded in his arms and chest that lead up to a strong neck and jaw, surrounded by an overgrown curly blonde mullet. He’s got stubble but it’s thicker above his soft, pink tinted lips. Sharp cupids bow to match his angular cheekbones. Soft and adorable button nose that leads up to strong brows. Matched with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen and some seriously luscious and curly dark eyelashes. The guys a natural blonde, as his pubes prove but his brows and lashes are dark. Like God was looking out for him.

“You’re fucking hot,” you admit as you pull away from his balls and Billy scoffs, all condescending but it’s cut short when you grab hold of his cock, tight at the base of him as you blink up at him. “But you know that. I don’t need to tell you.”

“You can tell me,” he gasps, abs flexing from the pleasure shooting up his body. “I like hearing it from a pretty girl like you.”

You pout, tilting your head as you raise up on your knees. “Just pretty?” You gather all the spit in your mouth you can and let it fall from your lips onto his tip, watching as it drips down the edge of his tip, the side of his shaft and to your fist wrapped around him.

“Hot, fucking— so hot,” he gasps, eyebrows furrowing, “Sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever seen.”

You giggle, “That’s more like it!” You stick your tongue out and slap the head of his cock against it, keep your eyes locked on his as you lick the most sensitive bit like an ice cream cone. He looks submissive in this moment but everything leading up to this tells you that’s out of place for him. He’s the one in control during moments like this. But you can’t have that. His lips are parted as he stares down at you, eyes all glassy. He doesn’t whine but he breathes heavy, squeezes the sheets in his fists as his muscles tighten. He’s trying not to thrust up at your face. Like a good boy. And you haven’t even told him.

Wrapping your lips around the tip, you sink down slowly. As slow as you can, taking breaks to circle him with your tongue and you haven’t moved your fingers yet, they’re still firmly holding on to the base of him. As you watch him, his eyes roll back before his lids flutter shut. There’s a goal here. Make this beautiful man fall apart. You think you have a talent. Once you get him as deep as you can, nose hitting the curly blonde hair, you exhale out of your nose and focus on not gagging. He’s deep though, poking the back of your throat and it’s not exactly comfortable but the sound Billy illicites makes it all worth it. Voice wrecked with the loud moan that pours from him. His thighs tense under your palm. You pull up, but not off entirely, stopping when just the tip is in and you suck, hard. Sinking back down and repeating the motion a couple of times. Billy’s large hands fly into your hair, determined to set the pace but you have other plans. If he doesn’t push your head down, you suck him harder and start stroking whatever isn’t in your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He spits out, “Wait— Jesus, slow down.” His voice is breathy and spent, “Don’t wanna cum yet.”

You pull off with a loud pop, string of saliva still connecting your lips to his cock, “Isn’t that the point of this?”

“Gotta feel your pussy before I cum,” he chokes out. “But, holy fuck, you’re good at that.”

“Thanks,” you grin, like he complimented you on a softball pitch and not your dick sucking.

You stand then, still between his feet as you begin to pull your dress up and over your head. Billy’s eyes scan your body and he still has this like, starstruck look on his face. It’s flattering, sure but you’re in your head. The guy is way too attractive to look at you like that. Even if you almost made him cum in record time with your mouth.

He sits up and gets his hands on your hips, pulls you closer and gets his mouth on your tits. Licks at the hardened buds, sucks one and moves his hand to squeeze the other breast. It feels good, his mouth is warm and determined and you grab onto his shoulders. Let him mouth at you for a bit, moaning as you look down to watch him.

“That feels really good,” you tell him, voice heightened with arousal.

“Yeah?” He asks around your nipple, moving his hand down to cup your heat over your thong. Rubs against your cunt with firm and rough fingers. Makes you gasp and lean your hips forward into the touch.

“Yeah,” you whine.

Billy smirks, “Sucking my cock made you so wet. Can feel how soaked you are.”

Damnit. The cocky bastard is back but it feels too good to stop him. Your hands lace through his curls, mouth agape as you look down at him. Watch as he licks and sucks on your chest while his fingers easily find your clit and rub circles against the bundle of nerves over the sticky material of your lace underwear. Billy has thick fingers. You wanna feel them without the underwear.

“Take them off, wanna feel you,” you whisper.

He pulls back with a smile, pushes you a step back and leans down. Bites on the strap of your underwear and drags it down with his teeth. It’s the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever seen. He uses his hands to help get them the rest of the way off and then slides them up to grab handfuls of your ass, squeezing the flesh and biting the skin of your hipbone. You whimper, staring down at him with desire. He spanks you, rough and abrupt.

“Need you to sit on my face, pretty girl,” he tells you, licks against your hipbone before spanking you one time and then lays back, pulling you with him. You grab hold of his jaw once you’re straddling him, feeling his shaft against your folds and you crash your lips into his. Billy kisses filthy. All sloppy. Tongue invading your mouth, dragging against your teeth, tongue and roof of your mouth. His hands easily find your ass again, kneading at the fat as he rolls his hips up. His cock catches against your clit and you moan into his mouth.

“I meant it,” he mumbles against your lips, “Gotta taste you. C’mon, sit that pretty pussy on my face.”

You don’t hesitate, kissing him one more time before moving up. Once your pussy is hovering his mouth, he grabs the tops of your thighs and pulls you down on him. Wet, hot mouth meeting your cunt. He moans into it and then licks through your folds. Prods his tongue at your hole and moves it back up. You gasp, hands flat on the mattress to keep yourself upright. His tongue meets your clit, flat and broad and your hips roll on their volition. And before you know it, you’re riding Billy’s face. Setting the pace, grinding down on his tongue as you focus on finding your climax. Using his mouth completely. His stubble causes some friction but you like it, humping against Billy’s face as you’re totally lost in chasing your orgasm. It’s almost pathetic how quickly you’re cumming.

Coating his face in your juices as you cry out, body jerking as the orgasm crashes through you.

“Fuuuuck!”

Billy doesn’t let up, continues lapping at your sensitive cunt as his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs. Moans with you as you climax. Gives you a minute before he’s rolling over, pushing you on your back and slapping your pussy. Looks at you with these frenzied eyes and easily slips two fingers inside of your cunt. You cry out, overstimulated but ready to go again as he pumps his fingers in and out of your soaking hole. Your back arches, vision blurry as your eyes prick from tears. It’s almost too much, almost.

“Such a good girl,” he coos from above you, lips and chin shiny from your juices. Looks even prettier like that.

“Fuck,” you curse, eyes crossing slightly as he fucks you deep and hard with his thick digits. Then he grabs your jaw with his free hand, forcing your mouth open as he looms over you. Has this wicked, borderline unhinged look which shouldn’t turn you on like it does. And then the fucker spits in your mouth before licking against your tongue and kissing you as filthy as humanly possible. Your eyes roll back, lids fluttering shut as you let him have control. Taking the brutal thrusts of his fingers and the intrusion of his tongue that tastes like your pussy,

Is Billy the first man to make you cum before he does? Yeah, but you’re not keen on focusing on that right now because the way it fills your stomach with butterflies is making you a bit sick.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he babbles out as he curls his fingers up, “Look like a fucking dream, taking my fingers like a good little slut.”

Motherfuckers unlocked a kink and you’re too far gone to hide it. Crying out and bucking your hips up at him, whimpering pathetically as you nod.

“Oh,” he smirks, voice dark, “You like being called a slut, don’t you? S’that get you going? ‘Cause you know it’s true. Know that you’re a dirty fucking slut, don’t ya?”

“Yes,” you pant, legs shaking as he drills his fingers in and out of your obscenely dripping cunt.

“Say it,” he growls, face so close to yours. “Tell me you’re a dirty slut.”

“I’m a dirty slut,” you gasp, “Fuck me like the fucking whore I am, Billy.”

He bites his lip as he smirks, gripping your face before spitting on it. Barely any of it lands in your mouth and he smooths his hand over your face, smearing your makeup with it before he slaps you. “Want me to show you what a desperate, dirty whore you are?”

“Please,” you beg, “Please, pretty please!”

He pulls his fingers from you abruptly, you feel empty so you whimper and wiggle your hips. He smacks hard against your pussy, then spits down on it and grips his cock, spreads the saliva as he drags his tip through your folds. Slaps the tip against your clit, making your body jerk as your back arches and you squeal.

“Think such a desperate slut deserves my cock?” he pouts, shaking the head of his cock against your clit which sends the most incredible shockwaves through your body.

“Yes, yes,” you pant, “I need it. I’m such a slut, I need it, need your cock.”

He laughs, a soft exhale that’s cruel but he’s looking down at you fondly. Even strokes your cheekbone with his thumb, drags it down to the corner of your lips and you move to lick his fingertip. Suck it into your mouth and look at him desperately. He groans softly, the tip of his cock slipping down to rub circles against your entrance. You hum needy around his thumb, hands moving up to grab hold of his wrist as you wiggle your hips, trying to maneuver his cock inside you.

“You’re—- you’re something else, babygirl,” he says and his voice is deep and so sexy. “Think you’ve earned it,” he breathes out and slips inside you, eyelids fluttering shut as he feels your cunt suck his cock in. You inhale sharply with his thumb still pressed to your tongue. He sheathes deeper inside you, left hand still extended so you can suck on his thumb while his right grips your hip tightly. The head of his cock brushes against that sweet spongy spot deep inside you so tenderly, has your eyes cross before they roll back and you grip tighter on his wrist as you moan around his thumb.

Hookups aren’t like this. You know that. You’re usually bent over, so they aren’t looking at your face. You’re not typically drooling around their thumb while they fuck you missionary. This is good sex. Which you’ve had but not… not this good. Never so intense and intimate. You get that uncomfortable feeling in your tummy again until Billy reels his hips back and snaps forward harshly, deteriorating every thought in your head. He fucks you dumb, thrusts quick and deep. Spilling out moans and repeatedly telling you what a slut you are. Not much else to think about when you’re being fucked into oblivion.

You blink your eyes open, vision blurry for a beat before you’re met with the prettiest sight. Billy’s sweating, beads forming at his hairline and you move to feel down his back, sweat forming there too and it’s all gross and sticky and so fucking sexy. You gasp, lips parting but he doesn’t pull his thumb away. It’s still pressed to your tongue and he punches little, repetitive uh, uh, uh’s from you. The sound of your skin meeting, harsh slaps, fills the room. His cock is so thick, stretching your hole deliciously, and so long, massaging against your g-spot with every stroke. You feel ten times drunker and you know it’s from his cock, and not the shots shared at the bar. And you feel fucking dumb too.

“S’a good little slut for me,” he growls, eyes locked on your face which is kind of overwhelming but incredibly hot, “taking my cock so good. You my little princess, huh?”

That’s a new one, feels better than slut which surprises you. Has tears stinging at your eyes, making your mascara bleed as they roll down your cheeks. Billy takes his thumb out of your mouth to wipe them away, leans down to kiss you. Softer this time. Tongue just barely swiping across your lower lip. You cling to him, back arching as he thrusts particularly deep.

“Feel so good,” he keeps talking, lips dragging against your wet cheek. “So pretty for me.”

“B-Billy…” you stutter as you wrap your legs around your waist, which somehow has him even deeper inside you.

“Yeah,” he coos, brushing his nose against your cheekbone, “Feel nice? Can feel me so deep inside you, princess?”

“Billy,” you’re fucking stupid. All you can say is his name. And you’re not saying it. You’re whining it. “Billy… Billy… Billy…”

He hums, kisses your cheek, holds you steady as he drills into you, “I know.” God, this is so intimate. There’s a white, hot pleasure spreading over your nerves. Brings you to even more tears. It’d make you so sick if you weren’t so elated in euphoria. If this were any other hookup, you’d be panicked about the lack of condom. But you’re aching for Billy to cum inside you. Wanna feel it fill you up. Want to make him feel so good he cums before he has time to pull out. This has you tightening your legs around his waist. Heel digging into his ass as you arch your back.

The second climax hits you like a tidal wave. It’s unexpected, you don’t even realize you were close as it washes over you. You cry out his name, tears streaming down your cheeks as you writhe against him. Scratching down his back. Clinging to him, pulling him impossibly closer as your vision goes completely white. He smells good. It’s what you notice as you come back to reality, faces squished together at the cheeks and your nose is pressed up against his damp curls. Makes your orgasm drag out as you inhale deeply, shuddering a breath out as you gasp out sobs. It’s foreign to you. Crying from an orgasm but Billy doesn’t seem alarmed. Grabs hold your face and kisses you harshly as he thrusts quicker and deeper until his hips still and he spills his load against your fluttering walls. Groaning your name against your lips.

—

Turns out, the cocky bastard is a clingy one. As you were sneaking out the morning after, he woke up. Rolled over and sat up, rubbed his pretty eyes and blinked at you, “Ya gonna leave before breakfast?”

So you’d stayed. Made small talk. Told him where you work.

Three weeks later, there’s flowers being delivered to your office… for you. They’re pretty. Tropical flowers like you mentioned you liked. Your coworkers ask a million questions. While you remember the sex as being the best you’ve ever had, you’re not really looking for a boyfriend. The past handful of them never worked out, so why would Billy be any different. You’d been panicked for two weeks after the hook up because he came inside and you were praying that your period came early. And it came late. By two days which had you in a fucking frenzy. So you were relieved when it came but then came the flowers. You stared at them angrily as you typed away memos for your boss. You’re made that they made you blush. When you read the handwritten card, you wanted to puke.

Had the best night of my life with you. Would like a chance to properly woo you.

And his phone number.

You refused to call. You wouldn’t. A boyfriend wasn’t part of the plan. Dating casually wasn’t a part of your plan. Regardless of how incredible the sex was.

Boyfriends. Love. The whole thing made you bitter. There’s no way it’s happening.

A week passes, the flowers die and you throw them away. Then you’re finishing up a memo your boss asked you to type when there’s a knock on your door.

“Come in,” you call, not taking your eyes away from the typewriter.

“Hot shot, huh?” His voice has you jerking your head up and damnit, he looks handsome.

Tight Levi’s, motorcycle boots and a red button up, but only the last two buttons are done up. Tucked into his jeans. His hair is luscious. Blonde curls framing his face and a dangly earring in his ear. His skin just as golden as you remember, not that you’re trying to.

“Can I help you?” you can’t hide the disdain in your voice.

“Ouch,” he presses his hand to his bare chest, “That any way to treat a man who made you cum so hard you cried?”

Your eyes widen as you look at the door, “Keep your voice down. The women in this office have big ears and even bigger mouths. Don’t need anyone knowing the gritty details of my sex life.”

Billy kicks the door shut with his foot and then leans against it, “I was hoping I could take you out to lunch.”

“You were dreaming,” you smile at him, dripping in condescension.

“Sure was. What do ya say?” He steps closer to your desk, hand on his belt.

You sigh, lean back against your chair as you look at him, “You sent me flowers with your number, if I was interested, I would’ve called.”

Billy purses his lips and flattens his palms against your desk, leaning down as he says, “Thought maybe you’d be intimidated, so here I am, making the uh, third move.”

You blink at him in disbelief, “Don’t know how to take a hint, do ya?”

“I don’t need to bring up that you cried again, do I?”

“You just did.”

“Come to lunch with me,” he shrugs, “If you’re not feeling it afterwards, I’ll leave you alone.”

You chew on your lip as you think about it. It is a free lunch. And you skipped breakfast so you’re kind of starving. And okay, yeah, Billy looks good. He’s handsome but he’s more annoying than he is pretty.

“Fine. I’m hungry,” you sigh, “But I have to finish this memo, first.”

You go back to typing, trying to ignore the guy's eyes on you. You glance up to glare at him and he just chews his gum obnoxiously and smirks. “You’re insufferable,” you tell him.

He grins, eyes crinkling with it, “Thanks, toots. You are so fine in this uh, get up. Very professional yet very seductive.”

You sigh exaggeratedly, finishing the end of the memo before pulling the paper out of the typewriter. You grab your purse and usher his out the door, dropping by the front desk to hand the receptionist the memo.

“I’m going to lunch. Mr. Harrington wants this memo forwarded to the whole staff,” you tell her and ignore the way she eyes Billy up and down.

“Will do,” she smiles, “Have a fun lunch.”

“I won’t,” you reply with a sarcastic smile and head out the front doors, Billy close on your feet.

“Mr. Harrington?” He questions as he follows you to the parking lot, “Like Steve Harrington?”

“Yeah, his dads my boss,” you explain, “Where are you taking me to lunch?”

“Enzo’s?”

“You can afford that?” You tease as you stop in your tracks, tilting your head at him.

“Uh, yeah,” he looks shocked by that, hands shoving in his pockets, “I’m an electrician. Well, I do construction in general but right now, just an electrician.”

“I didn’t ask,” you roll your eyes as you walk to his annoyingly pretty car. A sports car fits him, though.

He rolls his eyes but opens the passenger door for you. You sink in and notice his car smells like cigarettes. He smokes? As he slides into the drivers side, he pulls a pack of Marlboros from his shirt pocket and lights one up. And a cigarette sounds good right now so you make grabby hands and he hands it over before lighting another.

“You keep proving to be the woman of my dreams,” he says with dreamy eyes and you roll yours.

“Take me to lunch, loser.”

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x female reader

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loaksbitch · 1 year

Text

imagine jake sully telling you he’ll force an orgasm out of you yes? YES. no but like subby jake turns to softish dom in the middle sksksk — 1.04k wc

warnings - riding, marking, him thrusting upward when you ride him (if that’s a warning), pinning his hands above his head, p in v, deep stroking, growling, squirting but no biggie, subby yet switch jake? idk, but whiny jake is definitely there, biting, licking and talking dirty if you notice it

lmk what i missed on adding !! i love each and every one of you sm! take care,, like + reblogs are always appreciated please <3

“i will force it outta’ you.” — jake sully (⨳)

“baby,” jake would whine desperately as he’s trying to memorize every single of your curves, hands griping your flesh, breast, hips, ass and thighs. you’re so beautiful the thought alone makes him grow hard inside you

your soft mewls are bonus for him while you sink back down, taking his girthy length deep in you. “you’re so beautiful.” he traps his lips between his teeth letting a groan out from his pit of chest.

you look down at him and he stared back shameless, how your tits would bounce every now and then, how your tight cunt invites him in, he loved every bit of it.

you lean down to kiss your mate as he whimpers at your chest pressing against his, your erect nipples doesn’t go unnoticed by him. “so good, you’re so good.” it’s like a pat on your head and a rope that makes you clench on his fat cock

you kiss him deeply, exchanging moans until the demand for oxygen becomes too much and wins than devouring each other. you put your upper body on his but you kept going, kept rolling your hips and his thrusts up to you matched perfectly.

you moaned how he made you feel to his ear, whispering sweet praises making it hard for him to last longer. jake only heaves hard, breathing shallow and deep.

“need you close, princess” he cries, he fucking cries.

“i need you close.” you weren’t ready for his move when he planted his heels to the mat and brought his hips up to thrust upward. your breath gets knocked out as you fully lose your balance and tumble on his chest

his left, large hand leaves your hips and holds the back of your head softly, he’s so gentle with you. it’s like you’d break if he gets rough with you,

“you’re doing so good, ma jake” you would only gasp when he ruts to you upward, pressing your head to his crook of neck to hide you. “you make me feel so good, princess.”

his breath hitches every time he speaks

you intentionally tighten on him and he heaves. deciding to push him farther, you suck on the flesh of his neck and reveled in it, the sting makes jake’s cock stir in your sex

he would feel his stomach knotting and moan tears out from his chest. you in other hand lick on his skin after bruising it enough to show the na’vi’s he belongs to you, you lean back and watch the art you made before smiling

jake watches your hand sneak to his and frowns when you remove them from your skin to only bring them above his head, pinning both his hands to the ground. you make sure to take him further in and jake chuckles.

“what’re you doi— oh fuuuck.” his words cut when your clit grinds right on his pelvis making your wetness smear against his skin. “ngh,” you struggle to roll your hips and jake only closed his eyes focusing on taking breath not to cum before you

“need you to cum for me baby” he tells you but you’ve another plan.

make him cum before you.

his eyes are unfocused when he opens them and amber eyes lock with yours. “hear me? n-need…shit,” you’re rolling your hips and love how his eyes rolls back to his head

he was so breath taking when he whined under you. jake feels the cord of his release stretching and becoming hard with your movement and you moan when he grows large inside you, a sign that he’s so close

“do it.” you demand as your both hands are intertwined and pinned above his head. “cum for me, jake, do it.” your voice is so hot it makes it hard for him

“where do you want me?” his brows are knitted

“i need you inside,” you huff moving up and down on him, “cum inside.” and with that you feel jake instant pull his hands away from you. you’re about to ask what he’s doing when he jerked you both up and pulled out from you

you’re about to whine but him pushing you to the ground for a missionary makes you seal your lips.

jake can feel your surprised amber eyes keeps following him and he smiles at you before getting between your legs, “want you under me when i stuff you with my load, yeah?” you’re about to fight him back but he only pushes your leg wider

you use your elbow to support yourself and watch his cock press on your folds before slipping between them and entering your cunt

“jake!” it’s your time to whine

right after he bottoms out, jake brings his eyes up to take your face in and fuck he almost busted himself. your jaw dropped and brows furrowed, head fallen back… you’re so breathtaking

he began a slow, deep torture, watching your response to every thrust he delivers, he watched you unravel under his simple touch. your pouty lips are open, delivering soft moans when he pulls out and rubbing his girthed tip on your clit before sinking back in

jake looks down where you’re connected and his heart swelled. your cunt was pretty too.

“such a pretty girl with a pretty cunt you are.” he leans down and nudges your nose to the side to make you turn away. your neck is visible to him and he targets to mark you allover

you fight for air in your lungs and jake only tests how far he could go in you

his ears flatten against his hair when he fully thrusts and his balls rest on your folds. he kept his ground there and gets turned on how you squirm against him

“told you i need you to cum for me.”

you quickly shake your head, “not gonna do that?” he watches how your marked skin moves when you shake your head side to side

“fine, i will force it outta’ you.”

one hand goes to grip your right leg and place his arm under your the back on your knee, “jake that’s not fai–JAKE!” you scream when you’re dragged close to him by your leg and he knocks you

“you know i’m not gonna cum before you,” every word is said with a huff cause by when he pulls out and slams back into you. “hear me? need you to cum for me and i’ll make you cum.”

your eyes are now shut, body laid on the mat when jake uses your as a personal fuck toy

your voice gets high pitched when you feel bubble starts to form inside you and your eyes slammed shut tighter than before. nails are dug to your mates back but he only enjoys when you scratch him, creating extra stripes

your sound encourages him to go farther and tougher when he feels you tighten.

your pussy keeps squelching when his fat cock pushes into you and jake sniffs and chuckles. “hear that sound you’re making, you’re so wet, pretty girl.” at his words your muscles only grips him harder

jake’s ears perk up when he takes a hint you like being called that name. “pretty girl.” his deep voice again causes your pussy to clench and you whine, “you like it when i call you that huh? my prettiest girl.”

back arching, your head tilted to the side. your quickened breath was shaking and becoming raged.

and jake feels his own balls tighten, he needs you quick and milk him before he erupts his load in you. rough thumbs meets your attention seeking clit and your body jolts. jake flicked and pinched on your bud enough to make that bubble burst

“j-jake…” you call for him, desperate to hold on to him when your wetness squirts on his cock and allover. “‘m right here, right here for you pretty girl.” he’s still stimulating your nub until you push his write away from yours

just like he wanted you under him, you’re shuddering and recovering from his abuse against your walls when he suddenly grunts with a small “‘m close.”

he thrusts all the way in and stops, “jake, you’re too deep.” oh he knows, he clearly knows and enjoys that he’s almost in your gut. his breathing ceased until the first wave of contractions hit and his pelvis hurt from the feeling.

jake hides himself into the curve of your neck and whines when he rode out his last drop of climax, you could feel your cervix full from how he was cumming hard.

he lazily thrusts till his complete drop or load is inside you

out of breath and weak, both of you just stay like that for a while or at least until your lungs are calmed and taking air normally. jake slowly eases out of you and lifts himself on his elbows just enough to see your face and his heart calms at your expression

clearly you’re spent and tried but even with that? you manage to bring your hands to his cheeks and cup him before pulling him to a feverish kiss

you two feel yourselves smile into the kiss before letting giggles and chuckles filled with love out. “i really wanted to make you cum.” your lips perk and jake hums

“try next time beautiful.” he pressed his forehead against yours and you roll your eyes before huffing. “i love you” he manages to say and your lips curve, “i love you too.”

you both decide to cuddle each other and talk about some little things only filled with love, happiness and fairytales.

typos and shitty grammar happened and they’re not edited, apologies! hope you liked this,, lmk in the comments so i could write more for you babies! likes and reblogs are appreciated so so so much <3

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