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#Bending space and time since the beginning
exquisitedoom · 1 year
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altruisticalastor · 3 months
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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴
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☒ Summary: The Radio Demon proves to be quite a doting husband as he and his doe expierence many firsts together. Exploring his softer sides, may bring out a more posessive side of Alastor in the process.
☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, doe!reader, the reader is shorter than al, implied size difference, soft!alastor, posessive!alastor, lots of tooth rotting fluff, sexual themes but i wouldn't consider this smut, first times, alastor in a rut, knotting, breeding, pregnacy, many domestic moments between reader and alastor
☒ Word Count: 2,337
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Alastor was drawn to you the moment you crossed paths. The spotted ears planted atop your head, heart-shaped antlers, and a plush tail to match were striking. The Radio Demon hadn't ever seen a fellow deer hybrid in hell until you. But Alastor just knew that he had to have you all to himself. 
Since your first meeting, the two of you were inseparable. It didn't take long until you wed, and anyone who dared to try and cozy up to The Radio Demon's darling doe joined his next broadcast. Alastor was insanely possessive of you. He always had you tucked underneath his arm, crimson eyes following your every move. The only time they weren't on you, was when The Radio Demon was busy... taking care of business.
You were timid and pure. Alastor had no clue how you even ended up in hell. Surely, the gods were mistaken by not taking you. But alas, that softness you carried only made The Radio Demon's obsession for you all the more extreme. You were his weak spot, his darling wife. The love of his afterlife. 
You adored waking up next to Alastor each morning. He didn't rest often but snuggled into you each night to appease you. Which just made your heart flutter with delight. The only time you awoke to an empty bed, was when your husband slipped away to make breakfast for you. 
For the most part, you would sleepily wobble into the kitchen. Wrapping your arms around Alastor's waist from behind while he cooked his heart out. Alastor would hum a soft tune while he finished making your breakfast. Reveling in the warmth his cute wife emitted.
The Radio Demon would often spin on his heel. Encircling his large palms around your waist. He loved lifting you, so the tips of your toes planted flat against the top of his shoes as he spun you around the kitchen. Your laughter and his singing filled the sacred space you shared. You may have been in hell, but anywhere you were with Alastor was heavenly. 
Alastor never failed to notice how flustered you got as you gazed up at him. The man was over seven feet tall, so typically, he was taller than most. However, you were adorably short in comparison. His hands blanketed yours entirely. Alastor absolutely loved to bend down before you. Treasuring how your ears tipped back coyly as he met you at eye level. You were so easy to read. You couldn't hide anything from your husband. Even if you tried. 
You came to notice that physical touch wasn't something Alastor particularly liked. Except when it came to you. Your husband was constantly all over you. Holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap anytime he sat down. You name it. Knowing that you were the only exception made you feel special.
But even still, you never pushed the matter. If anything, you waited for Alastor to initiate the physical intimacy, which happened more frequently than one might think- considering The Radio Demon's reputation. 
Sex wasn't something you discussed much at the beginning of your relationship. Alastor briefly mentioned that he never desired such things when he was alive. But once he became a demon, a deer hybrid at that- he started experiencing ruts. He explained that he would usually tuck away from the world until his rut passed, but that was as far as the conversation went. Relief washed over you, knowing that you weren't alone in that aspect. Your periods of estrus always made you feel shameful but, most of all... unbearably needy.
Alastor prided himself on knowing that he was a man of great composure. However, when his routine rut hit after you both had tied the knot- he expected to be able to control his urges. But that proved to be impossible for The Radio Demon. At the start of his rut, he kept his distance. Avoiding all physical contact with you. Naturally, you understood and tried to support him the best you could from afar. 
But it didn't take long for Alastor's poise to completely crumble. Your scent was all over your shared home, and any glimpse of you had him throbbing in his pants. 
Before you knew it, your husband was on you. Nipping and kissing up the expanse of your throat. Grumbling and groaning against your neck, begging you to help in through his heat. Your body trembled with need as Alastor's hands roamed along your frame in a way he never had before. 
His touches were prompt, frantic, and perverse. You wouldn't dream of denying your darling husband during his time of need. Knowing that Alastor would be your first and last lover; as you would be his, sent your heart pounding against your ribcage.
As desperate as your husband was for release, his touch was undoubtedly gentle. Alastor was slow to undress you, laying you flat atop your shared bed. He placed chaste kisses on every square inch of your skin, making your ears twitch with delight. Your husband whispered sweet nothings into your skin as he worked a finger into your tight heat for the very first time. 
Alastor's deft digit stretched you out slowly. The copious amount of slick dripping down your thighs made it easy for him to add another finger. You were on cloud nine being touched by your darling husband in such a way. You could feel the need he had for you, and it only added to the pleasure. 
Your husband was a bit hesitant the first time he pushed himself inside your welcoming walls. His hands were trembling around your waist as he buried himself to the hilt inside you. You could tell he was unfamiliar with such things; it was endearing. Alastor's face loomed over yours as he beckoned into you slowly. He gazed down at you with so much adoration as he succumbed to pleasure. 
You didn't fail to notice the tears of merriment trickling down Alastor's flush cheeks as his pace quickened. Carefully, you wiped them away. Moaning in pure ecstasy as you and your husband reveled in the unforgettable moment you shared. A gasp escaped you as you felt him begin to swell from deep within you. 
From the look on Alastor's face, you could tell he was just as perplexed as you were. The base of your lover's length swelled so much, that he could hardly pull back. You were quite literally stuck together. It didn't take long for you to understand what had happened once Alastor released his seed deep inside you. 
The feeling of your husband being so close, enveloping and marking you as his, pushed you over the edge. Once Alastor's knot deflated inside you, finally allowing him to slip out of your heat, his eyes averted from yours. He was uncharacteristically quiet as he attempted to regain his composure. 
Slowly, he explained that he had no clue that he was capable of knotting until only moments ago. You couldn't help but flush as you admitted to liking it more than you probably should have. Your confession unlocked something from deep inside your husband's psyche. Safe to say that you both shared a long night of exploring one another's pleasures and eccentricities. 
Your husband began craving you sexually even when he wasn't in a rut after your first night together. Alastor seemed to have developed a fixation with breeding you, which you weren't opposed to. The thought of starting a family with your doting husband plagued your mind often. 
So it wasn't a massive surprise to you when you discovered you were pregnant only a couple months later. When you broke the news to Alastor, he was elated. Your husband lifted you in his arms, spinning you around the kitchen as you both grinned brightly. Alastor wasted no time pitching name ideas for your fawn, melting your heart entirely.
You were about seven months along when your husband informed you of his next prospect at the Hazbin Hotel. Happily, you joined your husband in his endeavor. At first, the people you met who resided at the hotel didn't believe you were Alastor's spouse. For crying out loud, he was the infamous Radio Demon. The ruthless overlord that moved up the ranks faster than ever before. 
But to you, he was simply the doting husband that took pride in loving you. Who rubbed your feet from how much they swelled during your pregnancy. The man who hummed his favorite tunes to you as you dozed off each night, caressing your ears lovingly in the process. 
It took a good while but over time you developed a good relationship with the residents. Charlie was so caring and helpful. She did tons of research on pregnancy to be able to aid you. The Princess of Hell loved rubbing your belly, feeling the little kicks, and humming happy songs to your little fawn.
Vaggie was overly protective of you. Not to Alastor's level- but certainly up there. She acted like your bodyguard at times, even in the safety of your and Alastor's room. It made you giggle, but you appreciated it nonetheless. 
Angel was a hoot. At first, he would ask you indecent questions about your and Alastor's sex life. But Husk always put him in his place at times like that. Eventually, Angel became somewhat of a brother to you. He and Fat Nuggets would sit on your bed with you late at night while Alastor worked in his radio tower. Angel would put on all the best rom-com movies, laughing and crying alongside you.
You knew Husk beforehand, having a civil relationship for the most part. But as more time passed at the hotel, he began to warm up to you. If anything, Husk feared for you. He didn't like Alastor in the slightest- and he didn't want you to get caught in The Radio Demon's crossfire. So he kept a watchful gaze on you, especially now that you were pregnant. 
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A small smile etched into your features as you heard the bedroom door swing open. Alastor was home early, something that didn't happen often. You sunk lower into your bubble bath, letting a soft sigh escape you as your husband's footsteps got louder. A moment later, the bathroom door swung open. Revealing the one and only; Alastor. 
"How is my darling doe and fawn doing on this wonderful evening?" Alastor boomed, approaching the tub swiftly. Wasting no time kneeling beside the tub. You giggled as your husband slipped his gloves off, dunking his palms beneath the water to caress your plump belly. 
"Hmm, better now that you're here," You whispered. Rubbing your palms over the back of his hands. Alastor craned his neck, giving you a chaste kiss. You couldn't help but smile against your lover's lips as your little fawn kicked right at that very moment. "See! Our little one is happy too, now that daddy's here." 
Alastor gazed at you with much adoration as he felt another kick, further solidifying your words. "Well, in that case! I suppose I should strive to get home earlier from now on, hm?" Your husband remarked, slowly pulling his hands from the tub. Alastor didn't miss a beat as he grabbed a washcloth. Lathering it up with your favorite soap before dipping his hands below the water once more. 
"Miss falling asleep next to you, Al," You sighed, eyes fluttering shut as your husband washed you. Alastor was so gentle as he scrubbed you clean. Making sure to massage your sore muscles in the process. "I know, my dear, I know." He cooed. Humming a gentle tune as he slid behind you from outside the tub. Working the knots out of your tense shoulders. 
"Our little fawn will be here soon... you nervous?" You asked softly, letting out a pleasant hum as Alastor massaged your back. His lips ghosted along the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Quite the contrary, my darling! I'm over the moon with excitement. I simply cannot wait to meet our little one."
Alastor's words caused your heart to flutter against your ribcage. You were the nervous one. You just hoped your child would be happy and healthy. "Don't worry your pretty little head, my dear! Our fawn is in good hands. Don't you see how much the patrons here adore you and our unborn child?"
Your husband always knew when you were nervous. It was as if he could read your mind. The sound of the soapy water sinking down the drain caused your eyes to flutter open. Alastor now stood with a towel outstretched in his arms. He beckoned you toward him, wrapping you in his arms as you stepped out of the tub. Your tail wagged with joy as your husband dried you off. 
"You're right... thanks for reminding me, my love," You smiled, tilting your face up against your husband's chest. Alastor took the hint, craning his neck to press his lips against yours. The kiss was warm and loving. Making you feel safe in his embrace. "No need to thank me, my dear! Come now, let's get you tucked in."
You squealed as your husband scooped you in his arms. Carrying you bridal style toward your shared bed. Alastor softly placed you under the duvet, wasting no time getting you warm and cozy in one of his button-up shirts. It smelled just like him, your favorite scent. Your husband stealthily removed his overcoat and shoes before making himself comfortable beneath the sheets.
Alastor cuddled up into your backside, wrapping his slender arms around your waist. He caressed your tummy lovingly as he kissed the top of your head, pulling your back flush against his chest. "There, now my darlings are ready to rest!" Your husband quipped, allowing his droopy eyelids to flutter shut. All you could do was hum in agreement as sleep overtook you. "Night, Al... love you..." 
"I love you more, my dear."
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tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim
comment if you're intrested in being added to the taglist^^
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drchucktingle · 28 days
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Where is the best place to preorder Bury Your Gays? What is of most benefit to you?
i know other types of media have given the trot of preorders a bad way, but for publishing books i cannot even begin to tell you buckaroos HOW IMPORTANT PREORDERS ARE WHEN SUPPORTING AUTHORS YOU CARE ABOUT. i mean HECK preorders are so important i even wrote three dang tinglers about it
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basically preorders are what publishers use to determine how much financial backing they will give a book for advertising and book tours and all that, but that is only PART of this way. BOOK STORES also use a preorder equation to determine how much shelf space to give a book. your preorder does not just mean YOU get a book for yourself, but basically means you are making room for someone ELSE to get the book in a store by putting another copy on a shelf
that is why it is better to put in a preorder instead of just saying 'oh i will just remember to buy myself a copy on the day it comes out'
LASTLY preorders are how books get onto bestseller lists because all the orders leading up to your book release date COUNT AS FIRST WEEK SALES. something like new york times bestseller list is close to impossible trot without preorders
think of it like a handsome surfing bigfoot trying to ride a wave. it is one thing to actually ride on the wave, but what matters most is that initial moment when you GET UP THERE and actually have the strength to pull yourself up when the wave starts. PREORDERS are the climbing up part
NOW LETS GET DOWN TO YOUR SPECIFIC QUESTION
first of all ANY preorder is great. what matters most as far as bestseller lists is actually FORMAT. the best thing you can order for an author is not ebook or audiobook, it is HARDCOVER. personally i am an audiobook buckaroo myself so please understand you should order whatever format you want, but technically speaking the answer is HARDCOVER
next is WHERE do you order. this answer is pretty dang cool actually. the best place to order for the sake of author is your LOCAL INDIE BOOKSTORE. if you MUST order at a big timer website that is fine, but many bestseller lists are weighted towards indie bookstores
so to sum it up. the technical BEST WAY to support chuck with 'bury your gays' is to PREORDER a HARDCOVER from an INDIE BOOKSTORE.
thank you for your question but before you go trotting along i would like to add one more thing
all art is important. when we create things they serve as stepping stones for us to move along our journey as artists and creators on this timeline. i have so much love for every book i have made, from POUNDED IN THE BUTT BY MY OWN BUTT to CAMP DAMASCUS
but i have to say with deep sincerity in my way, BURY YOUR GAYS is something special. i absolutely believe that if you care about fandom, or creation, or love, or fanfiction, or supernatural, or the future of media, or asexual buckaroos, or gay buckaroos, or bi buckaroos or any queer buckaroos, you will love this book. i promise buckaroo
it is the best thing i have ever written, and i think it is going to bend this timeline in incredible ways. i would like you to trot with me into the future, since we have already trotted this far together. i cannot say this enough: this one is special, and the timelines we create from here are going to make the whole dang world look up in surprise and say 'where the heck did that come from?'
so if you are even CONSIDERING preordering, take a moment a do it.
if you are one of those buckaroos who says 'chuck tingle is my favorite author ive never read' then now is your moment
lets trot buckaroos. thank you for reading and thank you for constantly proving to me that love is real
preorder BURY YOUR GAYS here
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worldsover · 20 days
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Professor Knows ft. Arin
(5.5k words)
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You’re seated at the front of the lecture hall, and you’re not sure if you’re in class, or a movie theater with an actress playing a prank for some hidden camera, and here comes the host ready to pop out at any time; hold in your jaw, please. But no, that’s Professor Arin, and everyone here thinks it’s normal that her white pinstripe dress shirt and her gray skirt are both short enough to reveal so much skin that you’re already picturing her naked so that if you were to be saying a speech in front of a thousand people, that’s 1/1000th down to make the task easier.
That’s Professor Arin, teaching passionately, and you don’t give a damn about what you’re learning because this isn’t your campus, and you just wanted to get to graduation already—well, those are the excuses. You don’t give a damn because you’re drooling at the so-called professor dressed more like a slutty schoolgirl/pornstar emulation of one, or at least you have to hold back from drooling. 
You are mesmerized by her perfect hourglass figure, and her heels—goodness, those heels. In her knife-thin heels, she’s rocking an entire lecture hall like she’s that one summer fling that got away, stabbing at hearts and bleeding them dry. How do your classmates do it? How can they concentrate with those hips swaying, and a pencil skirt so tight you can read a book on her ass? How can you focus when she bends over to pick up a dropped pen, and you’re one millimeter away from seeing the absolute territory? You’d call it collective self-control of an entirely different level.
It could be how friendly and bubbly she is. Overtly touchy with all her students, she treats everyone like longtime personal friends, casually grabbing arms and shoulders, patting backs and heads, and no one minds because why would they. The only one minding is you since she doesn't treat you the same way. You would often shift in your seat as the fabric of your pants becomes taut against your honesty whenever she catches your gaze.
And whenever she catches your gaze, for a beat, your heart stops. But then she smiles impassively and continues her lesson without any chalance. You exhale, relieved she didn’t read your mind.
That’s how it goes on for the entire semester: hell on earth, and you couldn’t be more grateful.
Or so you believed. Arin, as it turns out, is omniscient or psychic or maybe just some hair-level more observant than an average student like you—she's the one at the front of the class after all. She knows everything she's doing to you. She must. You hope. Pray. Beg.
Arin calls you into her office one day. This is it. The rumors. She’s a total nympho, a freak, down for anyone half good-looking, and you’d say you’re not so bad yourself.
She's sitting down in her leather chair, her crossed legs revealing just a hint of lace-adorned thighs; you lose your cockiness the moment you're inside the room. You're captivated by the soft, warm lighting that illuminates Arin's flawless features. Her lips are a shade of red that begs to be tasted, and you wonder what those luscious curves must feel like against your own. You swallow a dry lump in your throat, mentally willing your erection to subside.
"Sit down," she purrs, her voice as sensual as silk against your overheated skin. Her eyes never leaving yours, she uncrosses her legs and recrosses them in a way that makes her skirt ride even higher. That's more of her thighs. Less of your sanity.
Your fingers clench into fists at your sides and then you take a seat in the chair across from her, acutely aware of the space between you.
"So, Mr. Lee," she begins, raking her eyes over you, "I've called you here today because I've noticed something... interesting about you." Her voice trails off, and she leans forward, resting her elbows on the table separating you. You swallow hard, fearing and praying for what she might say next.
"Interesting?" you manage to croak out, cursing yourself for sounding like a lovesick puppy. Arin has reduced you to a puddle of hormones with a single look.
"I’ve noticed your… attention in class," she says, removing her glasses, and you're done for. "I want to make sure all my students are participating, fully engaged."
"I am, Professor," you whine.
"Just call me Arin," she says.
You blush. "Arin, of course."
Space becomes even more of an attention hog; the room feels like it shrunk a thousand times its size now, every one of your heartbeats echoing off the four walls, the bookshelves as your eyes follow her fingers, which now travel up her thighs, pushing her skirt higher. Your breath catches in your throat as she uncrosses her legs, revealing just so the white fabric of her panties. Arousal hits you like a ton of bricks, your cock throbbing in your pants. You swallow hard, trying to moisten your mouth as she gets up from her chair and sits on her desk instead.
Then, she touches you for the first time, like she's your classroom crush, finally noticing your feelings, and you can believe that easily, the woman at most a few years your senior. It's a simple touch, a brush of her index along the back of your hand and wrist, yet it's enough to spike the little hairs onto ends like you're touching a Van de Graaff generator. The moment she lets go: there's the blue-white snappy little spark. At this heightened state of awareness, your eyes are flies or bumblebees or hummingbirds, your heart the latter's. You can't make sense of anything else but her.
"I think we both know why I called you in here, don’t we?" she asks, her voice husky.
Now, it's your turn to speak up. Choose your next move wisely.
You say, slowly, "I need to… learn. My lesson."
Arin nods, hops off the edge of the desk. Her smile turns from sultry to goofy. (How’d she do that?) "Exactly!" She pushes a couple of papers in front of you. "Practice these cast studies, I’ll have you read them for the class next lecture."
You were about to get hit by a truck, didn’t get hit by a truck, and felt disappointed that you didn’t get hit by a truck. You take the papers, nod, and leave with your head down. She waves bye when you look back.
Fast forward to the next lecture. You’re a hot mess. You didn’t sleep, rehearsed those damn lines a hundred times as if you were some damn actor. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you can’t for the life of you stop staring at her high heels and gym-toned midriff, showcasing themselves like they were on display.
Your turn comes around, and Arin nods at you to read aloud. You take a deep breath, step forward, and start reading. Your voice is shaky at first but soon, you find your rhythm. Her encouraging looks don’t help, her leg bouncing up and down playfully. Occasionally she’d take her glasses off, chew on the end of them...
Your mind starts to wander into dirty places you'd rather not mention here, but suffice to say, your pants are a little too tight now. It has you stumbling over words when you thought you had it. You force yourself to focus on the text in front of you, but it’s near impossible when she leans in and whispers in your ear.
"Mmm. Getting warmer," she says.
Your voice cracks a little as you try to regain control of your senses but it was no use; you were all hers now. Arin has successfully reduced you to putty in her hands with just one sexy whisper-purr hybrid thing she did so well.
You finish the rest of the reading, and when you look up, you see her staring at you, eyes hooded. It means nothing; you’ve learned this quickly. There’s no truck to be hit by, just the ghost of a promise of one.
You’re in the club later that night, and your balls are ocean/sky/blue-raspberry blue. You down your fourth shot of vodka, determined to forget about it all. There are a lot of girls here. Your friends are going for it. Good for them. They’re all from your old campus, so they would have never met Arin. That adds up.
"You okay, man?" Dongwoo asks, patting you on the back.
You down another shot. "Fine, just fine," you slur.
"She was something, wasn’t she?" he asks, grinning like an idiot. You can only assume he was talking about some girl you must’ve hit on.
"Arin?"
The world tilts on its axis as Dongwoo whips his head around so fast you fear for his neck health. "How do..."
"Long story." You wave him off and order another round, beer this time. "Tell me more."
Dongwoo leans in and starts spilling, but all you can think about is the way Arin looked at you today in class. And how her voice curled itself around your cock like a python around a deer and squeezed just as tightly.
You think about it so much that when you get back to your dorm on campus, stumbling around, world spinning, you make your way to that very lecture hall.
And then you sober up, real fast.
Moans fill the large room. Thick, throaty, oh-god-yes moans.
"Fuck," you gasp, covering your mouth as you peek through a small crack in the door. "She’s..."
Arin, your perfect goddess of a professor, is on the floor, skirt hiked up, glasses askew, as her fingers work in and out like engine pistons.
Your heart pounds as you watch Arin pleasure herself on the lecture hall floor, her soft moans filling the room. She arches her back, her free hand groping her breasts through her silk blouse as her fingers delve deeper. You can't tear your eyes away from the erotic display, mesmerized by the way her body writhes with each thrust of her fingers.
A quiet whimper escapes your lips, and Arin's eyes suddenly lock onto yours through the cracked door. At first, she tenses up, but then, her face softens, and she’s smiling. Then she’s frowning and shaking her head. You know this, understand this, are running through the whole gamut of emotions yourself. You’ve heard the rumors are true, to an extent. She has indeed slept with every professor, male and female, that she’s deemed decent enough. Never crossed a line with a student.
You're frozen in place, unable to move as Arin saunters over to the door, her fingers still wet with her juices. She smells like sex and orchids, two of your favorite things now that you think about it. She closes the door behind you, then laughs at you.
"You smell like booze," she says. She’s wearing that same outfit, the skirt so short you’re ready to go all-in on temperance, whip the ruler out, have her punished for wearing something so scandalous if whatever lord above smite her now, you don’t blame His lightning. Her thighs are a juicy steak—the juice is a trail of something clear.
You look down. "Y-you… you smell like…"
Arin doesn’t know what to do with her hands like how you don’t know what to do with your hands. She also lowers her head. "Fuck. I really, really shouldn’t do this."
Two breaths, heaving, yours and hers.
"You’re right. I’m sorry, Prof—"
She presses her index finger against your lips, and you get a close whiff of her taste. "Why are you apologizing? It’s my fault. And… Arin."
"Can I call you Noona?"
Arin giggles. "Sure."
"Noona," you mumble, your heart in your throat, "I shouldn’t have—"
"Then why are you still standing there? If you’re going to apologize, at least do it right."
"A-apologize?"
Arin rolls her eyes and pulls you toward the seating. When she sits down, your spot, front of the class, she brings you to the floor, where you can see her skirt hiked up even higher. "I was so close, but fine. Apologize for interrupting me by…" She inclines her head toward her wet panties. "You know what to do, right?"
You never thought you’d be kneeling where you pay halfhearted attention to useless studies, but sure, this is church now. Pray. Pray at the altar of the space between Arin’s thighs which heaven envies for lack of same glory, or the idyll garden where the cuff of her socks squeezes the ample flesh. You hesitate, taking in her scent. It’s so much stronger here. So much more Arin.
"Hurry up. Don’t make me regret this." Her fingers in your hair—oh, you won't make her regret this, no, no. You press your lips to her thighs, kissing your way up her inner thighs with a fervor that would make the most devout jealous as you lick-suck-peck at the bare skin and taste the sweat on your tongue, delicious and tangy and a hint of that musky flavor. Oh, she’s been dripping for a while.
Your cock reacts, throbbing in your pants like you haven't had a single drink tonight, as you finally reach the holy of holies.
Arin’s thigh-high clad legs are wrapped around your head, depriving you of basic breath, but you don't care. This is the rapture, and you’d die for her right now and be satisfied. You slide your tongue between her folds, lapping at the nectar she so generously shares as her moans spur you onward. You can hear her panting above you, feel her rocking into your mouth in time with your ministrations. She tastes better than any woman you've ever been with, salty like the sea and as sweet as honey.
"Fuck," she gasps, and you faithfully redouble your efforts. Her grip tightens on your hair as she grinds against your face, and it’s a miracle you don’t pass out from oxygen deprivation or an erection that won't quit. "Yess," Arin hisses, her heels digging into the ground.
"Fuck!" Her juices flood your mouth in a tidal wave of orgasmic release as you swallow every drop like a good little student. She squeezes your face tightly between her thighs, forcing every last drop out of her before finally letting go with a shudder.
"Fuck…" she breathes out, combing her fingers through your hair. "That was unexpected."
Arin blushes, and you smile into her crotch. Reluctantly, you pull away, then return to your seat as Arin adjusts her skirt and glasses, straightening her hair. As you lean back on your heels, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, proud and embarrassed by your performance."Did I do good, Noona?"
Arin laughs out a low and throaty sound. "Oh, you did more than good. But I think it's my turn to apologize now."
"Why?" you ask.
She smiles slyly, reaching down to grab your hand and pull you to your feet. "Because I've been teasing you all night." Arin leans in, her warm breath dancing over your ear. "And I’m not one to leave a task half-finished."
Led by the hand, you follow her into her office, leaving the empty classroom behind. The door closes with a resounding click, sealing you both inside. So this is where the real lesson begins.
The office is a complete one-eighty from the cold, sterile environment of her classroom. You didn’t realize it before, too focused on her to see anything else. Warm, rich colors greet your eyes, and the scent of vanilla and sandalwood fills the air. Arin's desk is a sea of ​​piled-up papers and knick-knacks, but she clears a space for you as she pushes them aside.
"Sit," she commands, motioning to the plush leather chair in front of her desk at as she locks the door behind you with an audible click. The sound of the lock engaging sobers you up at once.
Arin, your professor, just had her way with your mouth and now you're about to... what? Your mind reels with possibilities as she saunters around the room, slackening her black tie and unbuttoning her blouse one button at a time. Each button revealed another inch of porcelain skin, bared for your hungry eyes only. Her dress shirt hangs loosely on her now, just like her tie, and now you can see how her lace panties match her bra. You wonder if this was all planned or a serendipitous coincidence. Arin shimmies out of her panties, then turns around, which lifts her skirt just enough to show off her ass. Arin’s ass is a sort of cryptozoological being that earns hushed whispers at the end of lectures—did you catch the crease of her cheeks when jumped to pull down the blackboard, or did you see how it jiggled when she jumped to pull the blackboard down? But here, in the bare flesh, with its goosebumps and every trajectory, a hushed whisper is too quiet for Loch Ness or Bigfoot’s more famed sight. Her ass makes your mouth water. It makes the desert water. The sun waters. If there were a shape to describe it… yet circle, then perfect, then slappable each inch ever closer to an apt description as apt as the appleness of oranges—now there’s another inch closer: Arin’s ass is juicy. Yet, you can’t even render anything above mute: porcelain skin glowing in the dim light and that pussy... that enticing wetness between her legs, glistening with arousal.
"You must be hard," she says, academic, as though stating fact off a lecture slide or textbook.
You might not graduate with any particular honors on your diploma. Where is honor or prestige and how could it be written down: you have your professor on her knees under her desk, grasping tight on your cock; this can't go in the transcript. (Magna cum loudly—that’s how. If it were not written, lest the porn titlers monopolize this for themselves.)
"You don't know the half of it," you say, and she smirks because she knows more than you, with the proof in her fingers, uncoiling you free.
Digits that hold red pens and chalk and sheaves of paper are now working their magic on your straining erection, already at full mast, but here the flag might fly further such that flagging no longer can belong to that cloth the flaps in the wind because it would not be so accurate a description. Arin watches you squirm, her eyes glinting with mischief and something else you can't quite place. Pride, maybe? As if she's always known this day would come and has been waiting for it.
You're so hard her grip doesn't even feel particularly tight, but when she looks up at you through those glasses, that impassive facade in tatters? That is the tightest leash your heart has ever worn. Her lips are a soft pink, colors you might see on her dress on occasion, and she parts them—the colors you see are a hot white flash, how did she get you down so quickly, and good lord if he were good you’d need his help to last. There is no way she’s this skilled at this unless she’s been practicing like it’s a side job. Her head bobs up and down, each movement accompanied by a moan that vibrates along your cock. She looks up at you through her glasses, more spit on them now, impassive as a hurricane. You make eye contact; it’s all you can do to avoid cumming right then and there, however paradoxical since her glare is saying all you need to hear. Don’t cum. Don’t cum or I fail you. Don’t cum or you’re punished—well, that doesn’t sound so bad.
Releasing and letting out a sharp gasp, Arin lets your erection flop into your stomach, spit-messy and begging. "Good boy. You pass."
As all she speaks, this too is a truth: you pass—into the next life—no time to process how she rips open a packet of latex with her teeth, places it into your length with her mouth, pushes you down onto the desk, one knee on either side of your thighs as she hovers over you.
"I’ve wanted this," she says, grinding against your tip, "since the first day you walked into my class."
"Oh, really, professor?" you manage to croak out, and damn it all if she doesn’t laugh, sexy and low in her throat.
"Don’t call me that right now." Arin sounds so stern saying that, stern like you've never heard her before. Then, in a smooth motion, she sinks herself down, takes all of you in one go, and moans out "fuck me" not nearly so severe. Her inner heat grips you more than the condom could hope, and her soft groans and profanity drain the office of its dry air as if it were never there. Well, the draining is less the sound, and the dry less the extant, both because of what surrounds your cock.
You hold on for dear life as Arin rides you like she's trying to break something, but with no handles to save you, nor any mercy in her movements—up, down, side to side, her black tie and open shirt flapping about—you can only grip her hips and hope to keep up. It’s nothing new for how new it is. This is just like how she treats you, how she treats the class. Just like the rumors. She’s in charge, knows what she’s doing when she has you under her—the metaphorical thumb becomes the literal body; the pretense becomes past tense—and fuck, her body.
The sounds of slapping aren’t your work (yet); that’s her thick thighs and ass smacking against your crotch, hard enough to make her pleated skirt fly wildly. Then, her adorable tits, clad in that black lace, call out to you, have you leaning your head forward in some desperate maneuver to capture them in your mouth.
"Touch me." Arin guides your hand to where she's dripping wet, where her clit throbs impatiently. She arches her back at the simplest circle your fingers can manage, and you’re feeling more at home here, less regret. You’re also palming at her breasts over cloth, and she abates her rhythm to unclasp her bra, letting you have a taste of her nipples, firm and delicious in your gentle teeth and lips. That’s another handle, her breasts a needy handful to be kneaded.
You don’t have the right to command your professor, nor the will. The closest thing to a request is how you grab her loose tie, earning a pleasured squeal, and a harder ride. Hard enough her glasses might fall off. As always, she knows you and your wishes, no need for words: nails dig into your thighs, fingers run through your hair, hands explore all over your body. The touch sends you way too close to tripping off a cliff in a car crash that ends in explosion that might fill latex to its brink, so you do end up with a command, albeit expressed physically as you grab her waist to peel her off you.
When she pouts, she truly looks more like the schoolgirl in your fantasies than the professor who has your graduation at ransom. And how is it that you're the one with any sort of leverage in this situation? Maybe you can tell by her eyelids, falling close, mouth, falling open. Whatever you’re doing, you’re doing it right. You flip her over onto her stomach, pressing her into the cool, smooth surface of her desk with a resounding thud. She whimpers, arching her back and presenting her still-slick pussy to you like an offering. But instead of sliding your cock inside right away, a recipe for disaster and early nights, something else calls out to you. Her asshole, like a forbidden fruit, beckons you to your knees, and you spread her cheeks apart, flipping her skirt up and bringing her tight entrance into full view of your face.
You start with a kiss on the pale skin. "May I? Noona?"
She giggles, no semblance of a mind in the airy noise. "Please."
Continuing with more pecks, tender and loving on her beautiful behind, some kisses along her thighs where they’re squished by thigh-highs, then you get closer and closer until your mouth is around her asshole. While you undertook this sabbatical to let your furious erection and imminent orgasm simmer down, the first taste of your tongue inside of her ass does no favors for your arousal. Tangier, saltier, and hotter than you could have imagined, Arin's tightness envelopes your tongue in a way that makes you groan, the vibration resonating through her. Her fingers grab at the edge of the desk as she moans out your name, or maybe it's "fuck" and "yes," but either way, you know you've struck gold.
You lace your fingers through her folds while you deepen your one-sided French kiss, tonguing her anal passage.
"Oh, god. Yes, right there!" she squeals between pants, rocking her hips back and forth.
As much as you'd love to continue this exquisite torment, there are other needs to attend to. Withdrawing your tongue from her ass, you see a strand of her pussy juice connecting her thigh gap. You stand up, lining up your latex-covered length with her cunt. "Ready for me, Noona?" you ask, though you already have the slick cheat sheet answer on your fingers.
As you press your hardened cock against the velvet folds of her intimacy, you position yourself to plunge into her waiting warmth. However, instead of granting that eager penetration, you ruthlessly tease her entry with the rugged tip before pulling away prematurely. As though left bereft in a hollowness only your presence could fill, she instinctively chases after your ghostly retreat. She gasps out impatient words underscored by carnal desperation, "Don’t tease me. Fuck me already!"
The sharp crack of your palm on her round ass cheek echoes in the small office. A blossom of pink blooms on her fair skin.
Bunching her cheeks apart with strong fingers, you terminate all playful actions as snug heat engulfs your cock.
Each rhythmic thrust into Arin is executed with a savage fervor that serves to claim dominion over every inch of her, to take all semblance of control. Take everything she knows and transform that knowledge into this snapshot crackling sensation that’s reducing her to sobs and groans. Fuck the unspoken implications and the quiet tension built up throughout the school year. You thrust into her like loud is the only path forward, and this path of volume is where Arin follows you. A single tug on her makeshift ponytail prompts her grip at the edge of her desk, and whimpers turn to screams, screams that might hazardously fill the hallways. When she glances over her shoulder, you can see her whole face pleasure-wracked. It takes one or two more plunges for her to surrender completely, tight contractions traveling rhythmically over your engorged cock. Trembling through spasming ecstasy, her whole body reacts, but especially her substantial thighs. Despite how tight she gets, you don’t stop pumping until she’s flowed through her entire orgasm.
After you pull out into much cooler air (the condom covered in her nectar), Arin recovers from climax with a surprising quickness, bewildered half-laughs at her own highs. "You might be my favorite student now."
Even though she says it playfully, you still take it to heart, feeling a delighted warmth in your chest. So you thank her with all sincerity.
Rising to her feet, she takes hold of your erection with a lip-bite. She leads you cockwise toward her window, looking back at you through her glasses with a smirk that steals air. One moment she looks cute, the next she’s a succubus, a natural-born seductress.
Once Arin turns around, her palms seize contact with the cool glass window, presenting herself to you for another round. As though framed by the night herself, Arin couldn't be more exposed if she tried. Although it's late at night, the possibility of someone catching sight of Professor Arin, compromised and partially clothed, lingers in your mind. These moments are when and where and how rumors are born. But you refuse to let that hold you back.
Once again, you piston into Arin, fucking her standing. The darkness turns the window into a mirror, reflecting Arin's expressions of pure bliss. Watch the tantalizing bounce of her breasts in her open shirt, the glistening beads of sweat navigating downward across her lithe abdomen, how she’s forced onto tiptoes to thrust right back into you—it’s sensory overload.
You grab each of her wrists and pull them back, getting all the leverage you can to fuck her like a ragdoll manufactured for taking all the punishment you can give, skewering her body to the windowpane with your cock. Her face and glasses push against the window with each firm thrust, and how she’s given into you, it’s time to steer off the edge.
"Gonna fucking cum," you tell her, your hips working at a fiery pace, your pulsating cock gripped over and over by her insatiable pussy.
"Yes! Yes!" At this moment, there is no professor and student, only two creatures consumed by instinct. She is nothing more than a debauched schoolgirl in her uniform (only halfway so), eagerly taking everything you give her. And you give it to her.
Withdrawing just long enough to strip off the barrier between you both, you offer yourself hand-guided satisfaction, as you reward Arin with sticky shots of cum onto her lower back, each dimple and dip soaked by pools of your load. Some of it gets onto her cropped
The two of you laugh as you both stumble back into her desk. She gets tissues and hands them to you, so you clean the evidence.
Steering yourself onto the creaking chair leather, you’re soon joined in cozy proximity by Arin who nestles comfortably into your lap, her head into your neck’s crook.
"So does that mean I get free grades, Noona?"
She slaps your arm—and that familiarity is enough to picture domestic life with her as your partner, the sort of casual delusion she engenders. "Don't even joke about that!" Arin giggles, pretty and unabashed like everything else about her.
You scoff. "That's where you draw the line?"
Displaying rare seriousness, she narrows the gap between familiar lips so close it feels like sharing a breath. "You still smell like soju, you know." Her hand moves up to your hair, taking stock of you in your ruin and bliss. "God, you're so cute. I shouldn't be doing this."
"Well, you did," you point out.
She nods, and nods, and laughs, until nothing separates lips anymore, sealing the context between professor and student, which somehow fits perfectly... like missing puzzle pieces that finally found each other, or a story that’s found its climax in this moment. The intimate tangle in her office chair goes from tongues to jaws to lower and intimate. Arin kisses the muscles of your chest, and you kiss the valley of her breasts.
"Why do you wear stuff like this?" you ask as you hold open her cropped shirt.
"Because I can," she says with all earnestness, and you believe her; it’s just as you figured.
Looking down at her thigh-highs, you tell her, "You know you look like an amateur camgirl."
"Ooh, now that’s an idea." Arin goes for your throat in literal and other ways.
As you make out with the straddling Arin, you return the favor with her own hickey, which you notice at class the next morning. You're proud of the little purple thing there on her skin, the opposite of proud of the whispers they cause. But like all things Professor Arin, these pass. And like all things Professor Arin, she winks, and you too pass.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
AFF, AO3
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wandasfifthwife · 1 month
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so soaked
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korra x fem!reader
tw: 18+ MDNI, top!korra, bottom!reader, fingering (r receiving), water strap (r receiving), strap described to be her “dick” once, pure filth (im so sorry), established relationship, not proofread
a/n: this is for all of the korra fans who still love her even after like 11 years lmao :)
Korra’s most likely to come up with a stupid idea and be completely serious about putting it into action. Most times she’ll pull it off too. You know this about her, but seeing it come to life in a romantic lighting was new, different.
She had no shame showing her affection for you in public. She fully enjoyed your reactions, pulling more out of you any chance she could. Her friends could be surrounding you and she’d cheekily make comments about her attraction towards you, or about how you looked, or better yet she’d act on impulse.
That’s how she was now, in her mood to boost herself in front of others and to get a rise out of you. She came up with another one of her stupid claims, blurting every impulsive thought.
“I can do more than just fight with the elements.”
Her claim brought on one question, how. Mako and Bolin made claims, most of them were either about mundane tasks or criminal acts.
You sat near them, watching the interaction with a smile. You made eye contact with Korra when the light bulb went off in her mind. You brushed it off, moving on and taking it as a joke. That’s when it started.
A few days have passed since then and you found yourself between her body and a wall. She snuck you back to her room, shutting the door and wasting no time to pull you into a kiss. Her room was dark save for the small window in the corner allowing the moonlight, the room’s only source of light.
You struggled to see her but Korra on the other hand had no issue finding you. Her hands pulling you closer into her, a sound escaping you when she started trailing kisses down your neck.
“Feeling good already?”
You shut her up by pulling her close again, lips falling onto hers messily; Her smug grin apparent through the ones you shared. She moved back, bringing your body into hers as she falls onto the bed.
“Strip,” she leans back, eyeing your body. The hesitation written in your body language has her sitting up, cupping your face.
“You’re beautiful. I promise you,” she leans back again, “now strip.”
You make quick work of it, pulling at your clothes until nothing remained. A laugh sounded from you when she flipped you down on the bed, under her.
“Can I try something,” she asks, distracting you by pressing a kiss to your chest and spreading your legs further apart. You nodded, pressing your face into the sheets.
“Could I practice my bending on you?”
You took it as a joke, laughing softly until you met her gaze. Her pupils were blown, hair framing her face. She was serious.
“Korra, what?”
“Well I’m quite literally the avatar, it’s important—“
“What,” you push her hair back, running your fingers through it, “what were you thinking?”
Her grin grows, “I’ll make it worth your time.”
She fails to answer your question. Her body moves off the bed, grabbing you to drag you down the bed until your bottom half hung off. Her lips found yours, kissing you into the bed while her nails trailed up your thighs, drawing goosebumps.
“I mean it, you’re really pretty.”
She pushes her finger, eyes staying on your face to watch for any indication of pain. All she finds is your body curling into hers, soft sounds filling the space between you.
“Keep your eyes open, look at me.”
You try but it grows futile when you feel a second finger pressing beside her first.
“Korra—“
She pushes her fingers in further, the tip pressing against the spot that has your hips jerking in her hold. You reach a hand down to hold her fingers there, enjoying the way your mind begins to grow fuzzy.
“Fuck—more, please!”
She pushes a third finger by her two, stretching you out further. Her fingers avoid touching your clit, rubbing under and beside but denying you the touch that would send you over the top.
It was sudden the way she pulls her fingers out, leaving you spacey and dissatisfied. You lay panting on the bed, facing the ceiling. Though you’re not watching her, you can hear her movements.
“Spread your legs wider,” she emphasizes her words with a light tap to your left leg. Certainly you don’t look now, feeling embarrassed about being so exposed as if her fingers weren’t inside you a second ago.
What was pressing into you was a bit cold, causing you to shiver. The next thing you notice was how it filled you completely, stretching you out.
“Oh shit—you feel so good wrapped around me.”
You whine into her neck, using your legs to push her further into you. The way she snapped her hips into you made you feel euphoric. You were too blissed out to notice the way water spilt into the ground, or how it mixed with your slick and covered the inside of your thighs.
“You like it that much, huh?”
You moan your response, wrapping your arms tighter around her neck. Korra had a hand wrapped around your waist; another hand sat by your head, laid upright to bend the water around her waist.
She splits you open, putting pressure against every inch of your walls. The way it angled to hit every sensitive corner. She was just as affected as you were, whines of her own turning you on even more. She curses under her breath, angling her wrist so she can adjust the way it’s moving inside you.
“Like how good I’m fucking you? My dick better than any one you’ve had before?”
“Yes, yes—ah!”
It doesn’t have a set form, changing with however and whatever your cunt demands. The second she motions for another string of water, bringing it to almost suck at your clit, you’re overwhelmed.
“Korra—Korra, ah!”
“Shh breathe,” she brushes your cheek with a shaky hand, “don’t hold back. I want to hear how good I’m making you feel.”
Everything was too much. Her low voice, the fluid stretch of your cunt, and how she was stimulating it all. The way she pressed into you, pushing against that muscle as the other pulls against your clit was too good.
You cry out her name, back arching as you come. She follows behind, whispering your name almost incoherently into your ear.
“You okay,” she asks, laying her panting self on yours. You giggle breathlessly, pushing at her until she’s forced to stand. The bed felt more comfortable the further you crawled back towards the center of the bed. It was then you realized what was just inside you as it returns to a fluid liquid state, being directed back into a nearby jar.
“Water?”
“What about it.”
“Korra, you fucked me with water?”
“Judging by your reaction I’d say I did well.”
taglist
@wandamaximoffsbadgirl @billiesofficialstrapsucker @cupc4keu
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corroded-hellfire · 1 month
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Older Eddie freaking out when she tells him she’s pregnant. He gets worried he won’t be able to be there for them in ways he wants to and tries to run. But he sees the ultrasound picture and breaks down and goes back to his girl
Confused older!eddie, you still that dumb boy we all love
Words: 1k
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I’m pregnant.
The words run through Eddie’s head again and again as he lies next to your sleeping form. The sound of your soft, slow breathing is the only noise in the trailer, but Eddie can hardly hear it over the beat of his pulse pounding in his ears. 
He’s glad you’re able to sleep because God knows he’s the farthest thing from sleepy. Pregnant. Eddie’s starting to think he can see the word scrawled across the shadowy ceiling he’s been staring at for the past three hours. 
You’ll be 52 when the kid is born, Munson, Eddie thinks to himself. Which means you’ll be 70 when he or she graduates high school. Well, at least 70 if the kid follows in my footsteps when it comes to education. Heaving a quiet sigh, Eddie tilts his head to the side to look at you. He watches the easy rise and fall of your shoulders with each gentle breath. 
There’s a sudden sense of panic climbing up Eddie’s chest and it feels like an iron hand clamps around his throat. You deserve so much more than this, he thinks. You deserve to have someone your own age, who can be there for you longer than I’ll be able to. 
Unable to bear the thought of you having to take care of your child and an aging Eddie, he pushes himself out of the bed and stalks out of the bedroom. 
2:02 am the neon green numbers on the microwave remind Eddie as he steps into the kitchen. He runs his hands through his salt and pepper curls and begins to pace back and forth in the small space. The two of you had never talked about having kids. Obviously, what was between you was serious and you were both in it for the long haul. Maybe one of you should’ve brought up the subject but it was too damn late now, Eddie mused. 
“Jesus,” Eddie says as he rests his hands on the back of a kitchen chair and hangs his head. “People are going to think I’m her dad and the baby’s fucking grandpa.”
The tightness in his chest returns tenfold as he imagines you calmly explaining to people their mistake, like you don’t mind it one bit. But Eddie knows it would bother you after a while and it would ignite embarrassment in him every single time. The same thoughts would spiral around his head that hadn’t been present since the two of you first started going out: she can do better; you’re too old for her; it’s selfish when you’re going to die at least twenty years before her. 
The shame is too much. Eddie’s nails dig into the wood of the chair as his jaw tightens. Before he can think better of it, he heads towards the front door, where his boots are settled next to. He shoves them on and doesn’t bother to tighten or tie the laces. The keys to his truck hang on the hook next to his leather jacket, but the sight of the jacket only reminds him that he isn’t wearing a shirt. 
“Fuck.” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose. If he walks back into the bedroom to grab a shirt, he knows he’ll see you, sleeping there like the beautiful angel you are, and fall into your arms. But leaving is what’s best for you…isn’t it? “Get it together, Munson.”
Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm down as much as he can, Eddie remembers seeing a sweatshirt hanging on the chair next to the one he was leaning on in the kitchen. It’s an effort to walk across the floorboards of the trailer in such heavy boots without causing a piercing squeak, so Eddie practically tiptoes his way. Calloused fingers snag on the worn gray cotton of the sweatshirt and snatch it up. In his haste, the sleeve of material knocks a few pieces of mail onto the floor.
“Shit,” Eddie mutters. He bends down on creaky knees to pick up the envelopes that bear both your and his names. At the very bottom of the pile, there’s a thinner piece of paper that had gotten mixed in with the mail. 
A slightly trembling hand raises the grainy black-and-white picture to eye level. Even if the lightning weren’t so scarce, the moonlight shining through the window over the sink its only source, Eddie would need to squint to see the image clearly. The small fuzzy bean in the middle of the sonogram has Eddie falling back onto his ass, tears filling his eyes as he stares at the picture of his child. His baby. Your baby. 
Fat tears begin to roll down Eddie’s cheeks and he brings his free hand up to cover his mouth. How could he be so stupid? How could he even consider leaving? Leaving you? Leaving this innocent baby? No, he knows with complete certainty that would be the biggest mistake he’d ever make. So worried about the amount of time that he’d have with you that he was about to throw away the best thing that ever happened to him. And who’s to say someone younger would have more time with you? The next day isn’t promised for anyone, no matter the age.
Eddie puts the sonogram back on the table and is quick to scramble out of his boots, kicking them beneath the chairs to be dealt with in the morning. Both his leather jacket and sweatshirt get tossed on the couch in his haste out of the kitchen, into the hallway, and back down to your shared room. 
When he enters, you’re sleeping on your other side now, so he’s able to see your face. Letting his eyes roam over your beauty, more tears begin to fall. He roughly wipes off his cheeks with his rough palms before climbing into bed with you. Though you look so peaceful asleep and tucked in the blankets, Eddie can’t help but slide in as close to you as possible and wrap you up in his arms. A small, sleepy murmur tumbles from your lips as you snuggle up to your boyfriend.
“Everythin’ ‘kay, Eds?” you mumble as you lift your head and rest it on his bare chest.
Eddie nods as he holds you even tighter against his body. 
“Mhmm, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, a smile breaking through at the way you cling to him. “Everything’s great.”
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jgracie · 1 month
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⚡️ DATING JASON GRACE
masterlist | rules
percy’s version | leo’s version | frank’s version | travis’ version | luke’s version
in which in a world of boys, he's a gentleman
pairing jason grace x fem!reader
warnings reader is implied to not be a child of the big three + a greek
When Taylor Swift said, “in a world of boys, he’s a gentleman,” she was talking about Jason. That whole song is just about Jason
This man is so respectful and considerate and just really wonderful. He feels too good to be true! Which is why you don’t let yourself fall for him at first. He’s literally the most perfect guy you’ve ever met 
Meanwhile, Jason’s thinking the same about you. To him, you’re a breath of fresh air from all the rigidness and strict lines he’s been forced into not only as a Roman but as a son of Jupiter. Why would you want to be stuck with someone as boring as him?
So you just spent your days longingly gazing at each other when the other wasn’t looking while also avoiding each other in public spaces because both of you were slightly intimidated by the other’s gorgeous presence 
Your first proper interaction must’ve been orchestrated by Hera and Aphrodite themselves considering how adamant you two were on being 6ft apart at all times, and surprisingly, it was in the mortal world
You were spending the day at your favourite library because you missed it and liked to pretend your life was normal by blending in with mortals, and also because you had studying you needed to do since quests left ample time for schoolwork
Jason was there because he’d been cooped up at camp for as long as he could remember and wanted to see what life away from the Gods and their schemes was like, and what better place to figure that out than a library?
You breathed a sigh of relief as you finally finished the essay you’d been working on since you arrived at the library. It had been weighing on your mind for days but you couldn’t find time for it until today. As a reward for your hard work, you decided to get yourself a sweet treat (me too girl) before continuing your studies
Haphazardly packing up your stuff, you quickly got up, practically drooling at the thought of the new menu item you were finally going to get after craving for weeks
You were a little too excited. As you turned, you bumped into someone, dropping some of your papers
“Gods, I’m so sorry,” the person you bumped into said, quickly bending down to gather all your stuff
You knew that voice. You could recognise it anywhere
“Jason? What’re you doing here?” You said, suddenly feeling awfully hot for no particular reason
That was the day you really befriended Jason Grace. He decided to accompany you to the cafe you planned to go to, paid for your order and spent the rest of the day there with you. Away from all the craziness of demigod life, you and Jason finally got to truly know each other
After a while of getting closer, you two begin to date, and it might just be the most beautiful relationship known to man. The way Jason acted before you began dating was nothing compared to now. That was just the bare minimum
You literally never have to lift a finger around him as he insists on doing everything for you. He opens doors for you, pulls your chairs out and takes your coats off for you. If you’re on a quest and you need to sleep, he makes sure you always get the comfier place and takes first watch
He also always leaves you notes. Sometimes they’re notes of motivation, sometimes they’re small poems about how much he loves you and sometimes they’re just really random
Jason is a big fan of taking polaroid pictures with you. After Hera stripped him of his whole life, he’s always had a fear of waking up one day with the same feeling he had on that wilderness school bus, so he takes pictures with all the people he loves and keeps journals and has a box full of all the things that are important to him in case it happens
He keeps one in his wallet at all times to ensure his immediate remembrance of you if his memories get taken again
(As if he’d forget you in the first place. Hera would have to pry the memories of you out of his cold, dead hands)
Your siblings love him so much too! They were a little stressed at first because he’s a child of Zeus, the God notorious for breaking the hearts of his lovers and cheating on his eternal wife, but he showed up at your cabin door to pick you up for a date with a bouquet of flowers for the cabin and then walked you back himself, staying outside until the very second the door was shut and now they love him LOL
Sometimes you think they love him more than you because they’re always asking about him
You spend a lot of time at his cabin. He disguises it as just really wanting to spend time with you and while that is true, secretly it's also because the Zeus cabin gets super cold and lonely and is also kind of scary at night, even though he sleeps in the one space away from the gaze of his father
“Honey,” Jason says, wrapping an arm around your waist. The campfire sing along had ended which signified the end of the day, and all around you, campers were wishing their friends goodnight as they headed to their cabins. You suppressed a giggle, knowing exactly what Jason wanted from the tone of his voice
You hummed, giving your boyfriend a bleary-eyed smile as you waited for him to voice his request. It was cute how even though you’d done this many times before, he still got shy at the idea of you two sleeping in the same room, on the same bed
“Would you maybe wanna spend the night at my cabin? I missed you today, and I can’t even begin to imagine how hot it must be in your cabin, with all your siblings in it, y’know.”
“Are you asking because you missed me or because you’re scared of daddy dearest?” You quipped, unable to contain yourself as his face turned bright red
“I’m kidding, Jase, of course I’ll spend the night with you!”
Later on in your relationship, when he’s sure you’re the one for life, he shows you around New Rome. He grew up with a peaceful life in the city being the goal, so it only made sense for him to show you around
Loves the way you light up at everything around you. He’d known New Rome for his whole life and could draw a map of it blind, but you make it feel brand new
Is ecstatic when you tell him you also want to start a life with him in New Rome. The moment you utter those words he’s already signed papers for an apartment and is drawing punnett squares to figure out what your kids would look like (I hate punnett squares they are the bane of my existence)
You know the part in The Notebook where the girl’s describing the house she wants? That’s what Jason showing u around New Rome reminds you of
Years later, you reminisce on the way you’d avoid each other as you tell your kids about your lives as teens in your lovely house in New Rome because he definitely did not die <3
442 notes · View notes
bandgie · 2 months
Text
On Your Knees Pt.2
ONE | TWO
synopsis: They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but this one seems eager for a treat.
warnings! MDNI 18+, fem!reader, incel!seungmin, pussy eating/fingering, PIV (raw), edging (m!), blue balls, multiple orgasms (f!), dom reader (kinda), banter, prolly more that I missed lol
3.1k words
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Seungmin doesn't think there'll be any way for him to live how he has been. Even the friends he spends time with hardly compare to the time he spends on the bathroom floor eating you out. Embarrassingly enough, it's all he can think about. Even as the podcast he's watching blares through his headphones, he can barely make out what they're saying.
Something about how it's submissive for a man to eat pussy. How demeaning the act is for a man to do. Yet, Seungmin questions the validity of what these so-called 'alpha' men are saying. Is it truly so terrible to have the taste of a cunt on your lips? To suck and lick on such a delicious flower?
He shuts his computer off, ripping the headphones by the wire to hone in on his conclusions. 
Okay so maybe this is normal. Seungmin's a big boy; it makes sense that he would eat pussy sooner or later. And if he liked it, that's also fine. He's a man, after all, it makes more sense to like giving girls head than to hate it.
Just as long as he doesn't try to reach out to you. Now that would be submissive of him. And if there's anything Seungmin is dead set on, it's that he is not submissive. 
But days after not seeing you with Han, days of not getting a taste of the pussy that has him whipped has him doing things he's sworn not to do. He found your number, he texted you, and he's going over your house on your conditions.
He's so fucked. 
It's too late to turn back by the time he's at your front door. Seungmin only waits a few seconds before the door swings open. He's seen you about a dozen times, but it's the first time he's felt his heart swoop at the sight of you. He reasons it's just because you're in a t-shirt.
"Oh wow," you take a step back and look at him up and down, somewhat in disbelief. "I can't believe you actually came."
Seungmin can't find it in himself to believe he came here on his own violation either. "Whatever," he shivers from the cold, night air. "Are you gonna let me in or what?" 
You take a step aside to make room, "Since you asked so nicely."
Seungmin takes awkward steps into your apartment, noting the cozy setup and simple plants littered in your living space. His fingertips run on the soft material of the couch, pulling on the loose threads automatically.
You walk past him, taking a seat on your couch and reaching for the remote. "I was just about to put something on," you turn and look up at him. "Come on."
Tentatively, Seungmin walks around the sofa to you. Just before he takes his seat, you click your tongue. "Nope. On the floor." You point to the space between your legs. Seungmin hands close and open, unsure what to make of the situation. You sigh and loll your head to the side, looking at him unamused. "You gonna sit down or what?"
Seungmin glowers at you, "I am. You don't need to be such as ass about it." He grumbles a little more before bending down and crossing his legs to face the TV. "Nope, wrong way," you twirl your finger in a circular motion to indicate him to face you instead. 
He looks at you confused, "But you said we were gonna put something on." You shake your head at him, "No. I said I'm gonna put something on. I never said anything about you." A hint of red begins to show on Seungmin's face, but before he has the chance to most likely curse you, you spread your legs. 
You can practically see the words die in Seungmin's throat at the sight of your bare cunt. He acts before he can think, twisting his body fully and gripping the underside of your thighs to spread you further. It's better than he remembers.
"This is why you came, right?" You look down at him. "Missed the taste of this pussy?"
Seungmin licks his lips, nodding mindlessly. Something about taste and pussy, but he understood nonetheless. His tongue pokes out, but you grip his hair and yank him upwards. Seungmin whines, like an animal tore away from his meal, but you ignore it. "You're just here to make me feel good, got it? You don't get to cum, only I do. Do you understand?"
You have to shake his head to force an answer out of him. "Yes yes yes." He shifts anxiously in your hold. "Only you. I'll make you feel good."
Despite his desperation, you smile. "Good boy. Go ahead."
The moment your grip loosens, Seungmin latches onto your core. It's soft, it's warm, it's good. He moans into your cunt, inhaling through his nose and he dips his tongue between your folds. It's only been days since he's tasted you, but it feels far too long. How could he go a single minute without tasting you? Getting that sticky arousal on his lips so the taste could mingle in his mouth the entire day? Seungmin puckers his lips and kisses your cunt, a thank you for introducing him to a whole new world. 
Your fingers mindlessly click on the buttons of the remote as you try and find a show. You keep switching back and forth between options, clicking random buttons until you accidentally set the caption to a different language. One of your hands pet the top of Seungmin's head, pushing back his hair and twirling it in your fingers. 
His tongue slides down until it catches your entrance, barely prodding it until he slides it back up to your clit. He swirls your bud in his mouth, sucking and licking until your hips buck. "Shit," you breathe. "You really missed my pussy, huh?"
Seungmin opens his eyes to look up at you. He turns his head sideways to place your clit in his mouth, flicking your clit rapidly. That's as much of an answer as you're getting, but it does the job. He lifts his head back up and sucks harshly, pulling on your sensitive flesh before releasing it. You shiver and moan, feeling your arousal drip onto the couch that you'll make him clean up later. 
"Fuck yes," your grip tighten on his hair. "Finger me." Seungmin leans back and uses his hands to rub your pussy. His fingers rub and swirl around your core until they're drenched. He trails them down until they catch your entrance, pushing his middle and ring finger in. 
You throw the remote on the couch and grip the cushions. The stretch is slight, but his fingers are long. They reach much deeper than you could ever do yourself, and you let out a loud moan when they finally settle all the way inside. Seungmin pumps you slowly, getting used to how your walls pulse and clench around him. He watches as your cunt swallows his fingers. His cock throbs in his pants. 
"Shiiit," you throw your head back onto the headrest. "I'll cum if you keep doing that."
That's all he's ever wanted. Seungmin places his mouth back onto your clit where his tongue flattens against your cunt. He moves his head up and down while thrusting his fingers in and out. Both of your hands are tugging on his hair, pulling and pushing him away. 
"Already?" He pulls away for a moment to speak. "Didn't think you'd be this easy, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised." A devilish smile appears on his lips as you lift your head to look at him. You wish you could come up with a snide remark, but your head starting to feel fuzzy and all you can focus on is how close you are. 
You push his head back to your pussy and wrap your legs around his body, locking him in. "I'll make you regret saying that."
Seungmin laughs into your cunt, happy that he succeeded in pissing you off. Now that he's pushed against you, it's a little difficult to finger you as rapidly, but you rather like the shallow thrusts. It gives you more to clench down on and ride while he licks your clit. You buck your hips and ride his face inelegantly. The first hints of your orgasm build in your stomach, making your body feel unbelievably warm as your hips stutter. 
"Fuck," you rasp. "Imma cum." You blink a few times and lazily smile at him, "Did you miss the taste of that too?"
As an answer, Seungmin buries himself so deep into you that his nose is pressed against your clit. The extra texture is enough to send you over the edge, creaming on his fingers and twitching in his mouth. He happily gulps down your arousal, slipping his fingers out to replace them with his tongue instead. 
You just taste so good. Seungmin is delightfully reminded of how it felt to swallow you for the first time, how the taste settled on his tastebuds. His tongue scoops out the white cream your pussy flooded out and spreads it on your clit before licking it back up again. 
He hums, shoving his cum-stained fingers when you finally release him from your hold. 
Seungmin wants it again. His hands splay over your thighs to spread them. After all, it's you who gets to cum. It's only fair he makes sure you can as much as possible. But before his tongue has the chance to find its rightful place in your pussy, you snap your legs shut.
He looks up at you like a wounded dog, "Hey! Open them back up!"
Seungmin isn't sure what he's expecting to see, but it definitely isn't how you look right now. Flushed with a heaving chest, eyes that are wide and full of arousal, and a cheeky smile on your bitten lips. He's reminded of how pretty you actually are. 
"Get up," you snap him out of his thoughts. "Take off your pants too."
He doesn't need to be told twice. Seungmin rises from his aching knees and fumbles with his belt. He unties it quickly before undoing the top of his pants, shoving them down along with his boxers. You gasp, eyes locking with his cock for the first time. 
"Holy shit," you slap a hand over your mouth. He's hard. His cock is red at the tip, leaking with so much precum you think he's had to stain his underwear. You can almost see it twitching from lack of attention, begging to be touched. 
Seungmin smiles, grabbing the base and squeezing it. "You like it, huh?" It's not easy to take your gaze off his length to look into his eyes instead. The sight of him has you aching to be filled. Your pussy clenches around nothing, but you keep your nose upturned, "It's alright."
He scoffs, but the smile never fades. You widen your legs and welcome him, watching as he gets into a half-squat position to angle his cock towards your entrance. Seungmin rubs his tip over your sensitive clit. When it catches your nub, you jolt. You wrap your legs around him and bring him closer. He does it again, this time pressing the head of his cock down to apply pressure. 
You reason he's doing this on purpose. Making your pussy squelch and your hips jolt to try and get him inside. As much as you hate to admit it, he's good with his dick. Teasing you by slowly dragging the fat of his head down your slit, slapping his tip and your wet cunt. You're annoyingly reminded of what he said days ago; 'I can make a girl cum. I just don't care to.'
The words echo in your mind and you scrunch your nose. "God, fuck! Stop pissing me off and put it in already."
For a moment, you think he's going to defy you. His tip trails lower and lower until it's against your entrance. Seungmin steadies his cock at the base and pushes forwards, barely spreading you open. "Didn't think I'd ever hear you begging for my cock," he smiles at you teasingly. "You were being such a feminist the other day. What happened?"
Not-so-nice words begin to form in your head and before you get the chance to spew them out, Seungmin pushes all the way in. His cock stretches you out more than you anticipated, and it's whines that leave your lips instead. He doesn't give you the chance to adjust as he pulls nearly all the way, save for his tip, before slamming back in. Your entire body jolts and you whimper again. 
Your pussy can't keep up with his pace, but you hardly mind the pain. It blurs into white pleasure that burns hot in your cunt. 
"You hear that?" Seungmin pants through his thrusts. "That's the sound of your pussy getting fucked by an...what was it again? An incel?" He laughs as your eyes darken with anger, seething with a type of emotion you're not too familiar with. 
You reach out the grip his wrist that's placed on the side of the couch, digging your nails into his flesh. Seungmin hardly notices the pain, his teeth shining in his shit-eating smile.
The words are stuck in your throat. You want no more than to tell Seungmin how much of an ass he is, that his cock is merely adequate, but you can't. Every drag of his length rubs against your walls deliciously. You can practically feel every vein on him as he fucks you raw. He makes your hot pussy even hotter and he, unfortunately for you, keeps dragging his cock against that sweet spot deep inside you.
"You," a breath from you, "are a dick."
Strangely enough, your words seem to spur him on more. He tears his hand from your iron grip to place them both under your hips. Seungmin angles your hips upwards and drives forward, shoving his cock unbelievably deeper. Your hands shoot up to your face, trying to block all sounds of pleasure, but Seungmin can hear them. He can hear the gasping behind your fingers, the high-pitched moans muffled in your hands. 
Seungmin laughs, but it sounds winded. "A dick huh? That's funny. You seem to like being fucked by one."
It occurs to you that you've been too lenient on him. Letting him eat the very same pussy he's thrusting into, letting him fuck you raw. His attitude needs some shaping.
You let him keep fucking you. You let his cock throb and twitch in your pussy. He's close, but he's doing good at holding back. Seungmin must be used to dumping his cum and leaving, but he seems to hold out just for you. It's cute, but your plan is better. 
Your head bounces with every thrust. Seungmin makes sure to keep his long fingers at your clit the entire time, switching between pinching and flicking against it. It helps to build your second orgasm. Your jaw falls open and your moans become more frequent.
"Shit," he breathes. "Pussy gripping me so tight. Is someone gonna cum again?"
Blinking up at him, you nod. Your hand grips your chest, squeezing your boobs underneath the material as you keep nodding. "Mhm. Keep fucking my pussy and I'll cream all over your cock." That does it for him. Seungmin has been holding back his orgasm so much that his ears feel like they might burst. 
With new vigor, he fucks into you harder, deeper. Seungmin doesn't try to hide the animalistic sounds he makes, groaning and moaning as your walls wrap around his cock. "You want my cum, huh? Acting all big and strong when it's you're begging for it. Say it. Tell me you want my cum."
You don't, not because you're prideful, but because you can't. He's thrusting into you so roughly that words seem to leave you. His hand pulls your clit roughly, and the harsh tug drives you over the edge. You squeeze your breasts so tightly to anchor yourself. You can feel how your pussy floods with your cum, leaving your legs trembling and shaking. 
Seungmin can feel it too. The pulsing, the wetness. It's enough to finally let him release. His balls tighten, his dick twitches, and he-
"Pull out."
Seungmin doesn't know why he listens. He was so close to his orgasm, he could still taste it on his tongue. But your demand outweighs his need to cum. With a wail, he pulls out. A small whimper makes its way past you as he finally slips out, cock shining in your cum. 
His cock is red, rubbed nearly raw from how good he was keeping himself at bay. You can see the head of his cock pulsing, worse than the first time you saw it. A wicked smile finds your lips. 
"Do you remember what I said earlier, Seungie?" You speak with artificial gentleness. Seungmin is too busy trying not to cum, squeezing the base of his cock almost painfully. You have to repeat your question before he finally looks up to you. "Huh? About what?"
"About who gets to cum," you remind him. "Who is it that gets to cum tonight?"
Seungmin thinks back about how you presented your cunt to him, bare and wet. He briefly recalls how you said something about being the only one to cum, but he was so entranced by your sweet pussy that he hardly cared.
He frowns, face flushed. "But that's not fair! I ate you out. You came on my tongue. You came on my dick. I'm so hard and-"
"And that doesn't matter," you interrupt him. "I never said you can cum. That's your fault for assuming you could." You have to bite back you smile at his pitiful reaction.
Even with his dejected look, you can't help but find it somewhat cute. You fake a pout and click your tongue, "Poor thing. Here, kisses will make you feel better."
Seungmin wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't you widening your legs and him falling to his knees. Yet, he does just that. You feel his warm, wet tongue on your throbbing clit. Sucking and licking eagerly like he forgot about the aching cock between his legs. 
You fondly brush the hair from his face as he eats you out for the second time tonight. His eyes look up to you with your clit in your mouth and you shiver. Seungmin will be a handful for sure, but you can't help but think you've found the perfect diamond in the rough.
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a/n: omfg I actually had a whole different idea but I scraped it and did this instead :p. if you wanna ask for a third part, please don't, I have no more plot for this fic tags: @mynsung, @andassortedkpop, @jminnnnnnn, @geneziesm, @applekiwi3202, @i6gyuu, @lazycarolinamoment, @lewoh-ot8-wh0re, @ihave-atummyache, @seeeeking-skz, @loeyscock, @blankdyean, @dini-recs, @yzsqu, @desirehorizon-recsextra a/n: I need to start asking if people want tags rather than looking through my comments and see who was asking for a pt 2 :(
654 notes · View notes
augustinewrites · 9 months
Note
happy birthday!! i bring a gift of a potential gojo prompt :)
gojo and reader have a fight bc gojo is a coke zero girlie and reader prefers diet pepsi
megumi reveals a secret preference for dr. pepper
thank you sm!!! mwah ❤️
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megumi groans dramatically when satoru stands in front of the tv, bending down to place a tray of drinks on the coffee table. 
“will that be all, ladies and megumi?” he asks, the question accompanied by a polite bow of his head. 
“thanks toru,” you answer distractedly, eyes glued to the television and the baby penguins begin to hatch. you don’t even complain when your boyfriend invades your personal space to claim a spot next to you, handing you a drink and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
you take one sip.
…only for your expression to immediately pucker with disdain as you spit the soda back into the glass.
(megumi and tsumiki set their own glasses down, suddenly wary.)
“this is not pepsi.”
“that’s because pepsi sucks,” he quips, stealing the glass from your hands and taking a sip. “it’s coke.”
“megumi, pause the show.” 
megumi just turms the tv off, rolling his eyes. this isn’t the first time this argument’s reared its head. 
once it’s off, you turn to your boyfriend to say, very seriously, “this is a pepsi household.” 
“oh yeah?” he challenges. “since when?”
“since always!” 
“why?”
“because i said so.” 
“and what makes you the–”
the glare you send him makes him pause and consider his next words very carefully. 
“i take it back. i take it back!” he pleads, pulling you in for a hug. “please don’t send me back to my mom’s house…”
“don’t tempt me,” you huff, peeling his arms off of you. “and i’m not the one who’s banned from the grocery store for the next five years! when that’s up, maybe we can switch to coke.”
“how about dr. pepper?” megumi interrupts before gojo can start blubbering.
“or root beer?” tsumiki suggests. 
gojo hangs his head, sighing as you quickly agree to switch to both. 
being a parent is hard. 
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adnauseum11 · 3 months
Text
Entry Control Point (John Price x Reader)
You spend the night at John's for the first time since you started dating. You have a revelation.
1.5k words
CW: nipples
This has been idling in Teen but the spice level is going to take a jump shortly, sorry if that's not your thing.
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You are so used to John’s steady presence in your life that you can almost forget that things have changed between you. Except in moments like this, that forcibly remind you - he’s allowed to have his hands in certain places now. You find his touch creeping up on you, a natural extension of the familiarity you had before. It takes a minute for you to notice it, but when you do -
“What are you doing?” You elbow John in the ribs just this side of gently. His big hand has drifted off your back and is in your back pocket, cupping and squeezing your ass cheek. 
“Hmm?” He’s going for innocent but looks too pleased with himself to pull it off properly. His beanie hat is tugged low and his collar turned up against the cold. 
“Knock it off, you absolute muppet.” You struggle to create daylight between you, realizing belated he’s been slowly reeling you into his body as you walk back to his flat after dinner.
John grins, the expression taking years off his face and making your heart swell in your chest, suddenly feeling too tight. You won’t tell him that though, because he’s pinching the material of your back pocket in between his fingers and tugging you back against his big, solid body. You half-heartedly swat at him but give up, letting his warmth bleed in to your side. 
“Took an entire city block to notice, love.” He murmurs, bending slightly to deliver the words close to your ear. 
“It did not, stop being a nuisance.” You huff with ill-hidden amusement, pausing for a traffic light to change. 
“Can’t help it, you drive me to distraction.” John retorts immediately, returning his palm to your lower back in a protective gesture as you wait for the light together. You roll your eyes but lean into him anyways. You stay wrapped up in him for the rest of the walk back in contented silence, a full belly and brisk night bookending your night. 
It isn’t until you get through the front door of his that you realize the time. You freeze, half your jacket buttons undone as you try to decide what to do. John notices, because of course he does. 
“Bit late to head back to yours now, innit love?” He’s using a careful tone of voice as he stills, watching you struggle internally. You know if you ask, he’ll take you home right now, but he’s right. It’s getting late to ask him to run around the city. 
“Yeah, probably.” You say haltingly, your hands going back to the buttons slowly. John’s working hard to keep the triumphant smile off his face, but you know him too well.  
“John –“ You begin a warning but he’s got his hands up in supplication before you can finish the thought. 
“Everything will be above board, darling. No pressure from me. I’ll sleep on the couch, yah?” His accent deepens and you narrow your eyes at him, undoing the buttons with purpose now. 
“Stop being ridiculous, you’re not going to sleep on the couch. If this is some reverse psychology shit – “
“Never.” He shakes his head and takes your coat from you, hanging it up beside his own. His warm hands fall on your shoulders, massaging gently through your shirt as he steers you into the living room. ‘Unless it’s working?” His tone hopeful.
“John!” You admonish and he chuckles, his broad chest bumping against your back. 
“Just teasing love, just teasing.” He soothes, dropping a series of kisses into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, the mixture of heat from his lips and scratchiness of his whiskers making you shiver. “Since you’re not going home do you want to watch something before bed?” 
He backs off, giving you space to fold yourself into your preferred position on the end cushion, tucking your feet up against the armrest. He leans over to grab a well-worn blanket off the back of the couch, conspicuously the most feminine thing other than yourself in the room. It’s white and thick, still soft despite years of use. It has edges that end in loose threads of yarn and has simple geometric shapes woven into the pattern. You got it for him years ago, an early Christmas present before he shipped out on mission. It has never actually left his flat, so it retains its creamy white colouring. You’re fond of braiding the loose ends together while watching movies. 
He drops onto the cushion beside yours, one large arm going over the back of the couch, bracketing you into his body. You instinctively lean into his bulk, tucking yourself under his arm and taking control of the blanket. He kicks his legs up onto the coffee table after swiping the remote, sprawling his longer form as best he can without losing any space between you.
You are part way through an old Top Gear re-rerun when something finally clicks into place. Your cheek is pressed against the hard plane of muscle that is John’s pectoral, half watching the show and half focused on his steady heartbeat. His fingers are buried in your hair, running through the strands absently. Every gentle tug making goosebumps run up and down the back of your neck, melting you a little further into him. 
The blanket, driving you home regardless of the hour, the previous fist fights with bad boyfriends – it all crystallizes in a moment of clarity as Richard Hammond screams across a rickety footbridge in an ancient Bronco, making the man at your side chuckle lowly. John Price has been sweet on you for some time. He’s just…never acted on it. And you, without any overt overtures of interest had just assumed that was how John operated. Had never seen any indication of anything other than a man chivalrous to a fault. You speculate on his retirement and the timing of his interest, losing track of what’s happening on screen. You only realize its over when John sits up, shifting you against him. 
“You alright?” Concern is colouring his tone.
“Yeah, zoned out. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize darling, ready for bed then?”
You’re loathe to move, wanting to stay cocooned with him while you process your revelation. Going to bed will raise its own anxieties, none of which have anything to do with John and everything to do with your fear of losing an important relationship in your life should this go sideways. Never mind it’s been over two decades and he’s not turned away from you yet. 
“One more show?” You ask, turning wide eyes on him. He relaxes against you again and you burrow into his side, grateful for a chance to mentally play catch up. You resettle your ear over his heart, feeling it’s comforting thump while you turn over interactions in your mind. Looking for clues, the world’s most inattentive detective. You lose track of the show again and are startled anew when John sits up, swinging his legs off the table to stand. 
“C’mon sleepy head, let’s get you ready for bed.”
“I don’t have anything –“
“You can wear whatever of mine you like, but maybe think about bringing some stuff over, hmm?” He’s wrapped around you from behind, steering you down the hallway to the bathroom, reading your mind. He hands you his toothbrush, letting you use it first and disappears to gather a shirt for you to sleep in. You stare at the toothbrush in your hand dumbly for a moment before using it. John swaps you the utensil for a shirt when he returns and goes about his business. You catch his eyes following you in the mirror though. 
The shirt in your hand is soft and familiar to you, an old one won playing darts at a pub. A good memory, filled with laughter and beer-soaked floors. Before you can think too hard you begin undressing, tossing each item haphazardly over a leather club chair in the corner.
You can feel your nipples harden in the air of the room, and as you lift your arms over your head to pull John’s shirt on you hear the clatter of his toothbrush in the sink. A muttered curse follows and by the time your head pops out of the neck hole, he’s gripping the counter and blatantly staring at you in the mirror. All the muscles down his arm are corded, as if he’s gripping the slab of countertop with all his strength.
“Are you alright, John?”
You ask innocently, and watch him swallow hard in the mirror. He nods and turns off the bathroom light, padding slowly over to you. His big palm lands on your lower back, wordlessly steering you to bed. You can’t help the rush of nervous anticipation at his nearness, but John is as good as his word. He doesn’t pressure you and lets you sleep, the both of you settling into his big bed with contented sighs. No, it’s when you wake up, wrapped around his powerful body that you should have had the foresight to be concerned about.     
Next Chapter
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byunpum · 5 months
Text
Mama's Boy | Part 3
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Pair: Jake x neytiri x human reader (trio couple) x sully children's
Warning: Kinda sad, cozy moments, conflict.
Note:I've had so many ideas for this mini-series. Cuz yeah, now I've turned it into a mini-series xD. I think it's going to have two more parts or who knows. But thank you so much for the support, by the way I recently opened a KO-Fi…. if you want to leave any tips or support I would appreciate it (it would help me to buy real coffee xD). But still we are very close to reach my followers goal, you guys are amazing.
AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6(final)
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You still couldn't believe you were with your family. Neteyam, kiri and tuk were helping neytiri prepare breakfast. Jake was next to you, while lo'ak had his head in your lap. The boy may have been twice your size, but he was always looking for a way to snuggle with his mother. He had his eyes closed, while you gently stroked his hair. "Looks like someone around here is falling asleep," jake says, watching as lo'ak settles more into your lap. You smile, bending a little to place a soft kiss on lo'ak's cheek. "He missed me so much, huh?" you speak, jake moves closer to you. For now he wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. "yeah…he was hopeless" jake looks at lo'ak, he had definitely fallen asleep. "My poor beautiful baby" you speak. "You know he's all grown up" jake teases a little, but he does it with tenderness. You've always been that way with all the kids in the family. You were the mother who spoiled them.
On the other hand, you felt a little bad for lo'ak. You knew that these last few months must have been difficult for him. Of course, being away from you. The whole mess with the RDA. But the little problem between him and his father. Jake could be a little strong with lo'ak, always comparing him to neteyam. This situation had been the beginning of a few arguments between Jake and you. They never became serious and always looked for a solution. But you knew that if you were present things had to get a little out of control.
"Come here…the food is ready" says neytiri. You carefully lift lo'ak up, watching as the boy stands up and sits down. Everyone settles in together, neteyam runs as fast as he can settling in next to you. "Hey…move!!!" lo'ak pushes neteyam a little. "skxawng let me…I want to be next to mom too" neteyam and lo'ak start to fight. In a quick move you pull lo'ak's tail, dragging him hard so that he sits on your left side. "By eywa… Here's an empty space" you scold them both. Neytiri couldn't contain her laughter, they looked so cute. It had been a long time since the whole family had been together.
Breakfast was served very quickly, everyone was happy. Telling the anectodes they had lived, catching up with each other. The room was so bright and happy. It seemed as if nothing bad was happening. "mom I have to show you my ilu" says tuk excitedly. "ilu? What is that?" you ask because everything she was telling you was new to you. You had arrived in the early morning. And you hadn't left the marui at all, even jake sneaked you from the ikran to the marui. "They are a type of ikran…but aquatic" neytiri explains to you, this makes you more curious. "yessss mom you will love them, and the beaches…ahhh" kiri was so excited, planning everything she was going to do with you. But jake interrupts them for a moment, "kids…I know you are excited about your mother's arrival, but remember I still have to talk to the clan leaders" jake speaks, watching as all the family's faces changed to one of concern.
"Are they that bad?" you look at neytiri with concern. "They're not bad…tonowari is friendly and I'm sure she'll understand. But ronal…she's the problem" jake gets a little nervous, knowing he'll have to talk to them soon. "She's very problematic" neytiri says rolling her eyes back. "but mom isn't going to leave…is she?" lo'ak holds your hand tightly. "I'm going to stay?" you look at Jake, waiting for his answer. Jake caresses your face. "Of course you are…it's definite. Y/N is staying with us" jake speaks. Lo'ak moves closer to you, curling his hand between your arm. He looked like a larva next to you, and on your other side was neteyam imitating lo'ak. You squeeze their hands tighter, hoping they know you're not going anywhere.
After breakfast, neytiri insisted that you take a nap. The journey through the night and into the early morning had been a long one. So she adjusted the hammock she and Jake shared. "Here the three of us will sleep…it's very comfortable. You should get some rest," says neytiri, she was so excited about your arrival. She felt complete again. Jake completed a part of her soul, but you were her soul mate. You did everything together, the connection you two had was very special. "well you're right…I'm a little tired" you stretch out, climbing into the hammock to rest. As you were settling in, neytiri was talking to you. Until lo'ak approaches from the other side. "Mama!!!" lo'ak yells. Neytiri taps him on the head. "Be quiet…mama is going to sleep" neytiri scolds him, but you touch lo'ak's face. "What's wrong my darling?" you see lo'ak's little ears pull back.
"Then…are we going to make the bracelets we always make for my birthday?" lo'ak looks at you with wide eyes. Neytiri opens her eyes, and you look at her with concern. By your arrival they had both forgotten about the boy's birthday. "Of course we did…but mom needs to rest" you reassure the boy. Lo'ak smiles excitedly, walking away to go get everything ready for when you get up. "this day has been crazy and it's only just started" neytiri says, watching you laugh. She takes your hand and gives it a gentle kiss. "Rest" neytiri pulls away, leaving you to rest. You had to process everything that was going on, you settle a little in the hammock and close your eyes.
On the other hand, Jake had left the Marui after finishing breakfast. He was determined to do whatever it took to get you to stay with them. Jake arrived at tonowari and ronal's marui. The pair got up from the floor when they saw jake approaching. "hello…good morning" jake speaks, greeting both bosses. He felt like he was about to throw up, the matkayina clan had been so kind to them. He had recently accepted them into the clan, and now he was about to drop some big news. "How can we help you?" asks Ronal, inviting Jake to sit down. Jake sits down, placing his hands on his thigh nervously. "I came to ask you for a favor," jake says. Ronal looks quickly at his partner, tonowari signals jake to continue. "I know I haven't expressed myself honestly…but my family is bigger than you think" says jake. Tonowari now looks confused. What was this man talking about.
"I had to leave one of my children's mothers in the jungle, because it was dangerous for her to come with us. But recently I brought her here…to the clan," Jake says, swallowing hard. Jake was looking both leaders in the eye. "Another mother? How were you able to leave one of your mates? What was the reason?" asks tonowari. Jake settles back on his ankles, he was sweating a little. "The reason I couldn't bring her is that she's…she's a person from the Sky" jake speaks, there was a rather long silence for jake's liking." You're saying there's a demon living among us!!!" shouts ronal, the woman gets up from the ground. She looked upset. "No wait!!! She's harmless…I can" jake tries to explain everything, trying to make eye contact with tonowari. "Jake sully…what have you done?" tonowari looked annoyed, but calm at the same time. For some reason over the past few months the two men had become good friends. "She's the mother of my children too…I" jake is interrupted by ronal. Which was now in front of him. "How is it possible!!!?" ronal is hysterical, a demon in her clan. She couldn't allow something like that.
"Y/n…she is the mother of my third child, lo'ak. She carries, raises and is the mother of my son. I know it's crazy, but you must believe me. She won't do any harm, tonowari listen" jake tries to approach his friend. "She is part of the omaticaya clan, she is someone who has earned the trust of our clan. She is a na'vi" jake tries to speak as slowly as he can. " A na'vi…you're crazy!!!" ronal sits down next to his partner, taking his hand. "Jake…I don't think…everything you're telling me is a lot" tonowari is at a loss for words. "I know it's hard to understand and hard to believe. But I'm asking you to please let her stay. She is part of our family, if you want I can bring her here…and" jake is again interrupted by ronal.
"No…she won't stay here. It is impossible for a human to give birth to a na'vi child. Second she is dangerous, she is a demon!!!" ronal shouts, but that word awakens something in jake that he was trying to control. "SHE IS NOT A FUCKING DEMON…AND I ASK FOR A LITTLE RESPECT, BECAUSE YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT MY PARTNER AND THE MOTHER OF MY CHILDREN" jake yells, getting up from the ground. This action causes tonowari to become defensive. Imitating jake, getting up. "Jake you don't need to yell at my partner like that" tonowari confronts him. "And she shouldn't talk about my family like that" jake takes a deep breath. Preparing to exit the marui. "I appreciate everything you have done for me and my family….but if you don't accept her. I think it would be best if we left" jake speaks, exiting the marui in annoyance.
He knew he shouldn't have yelled like that, much less at Ronal. But he could let them talk bad about you. If there was one person who had never hurt anyone, it was you. Even in the great war with the RDA you never… had blood on your hands. Jake arrived at the marui, finding only you and neytiri. You were still lying in the hammock, while Neytiri was weaving a basket. You both looked so happy and carefree. Jake remains silent, watching as both women looked at him with concern. "Is something wrong?" neytiri asks watching as jake sits down next to you. "Jake?" you knew that face something had happened. Jake is silent for a good while, trying to calm down and get the news out that he was going to say. "I think we'll be leaving this place tomorrow…all of us" Jake says, Neytiri adjusts in her seat. And you quickly get out of the hammock, confused. "What are you talking about honey?" you speak. Jake reaches over and strokes your cheek, your partner's eyes reflecting frustration. "I tried to talk to them…but all they did was offend you" jake swallows hard, dragging the back of his neck. "I crossed the line…and yelled at ronal. I couldn't stand them talking bad about you" jake speaks, you hold his hand. Sitting next to him. "my eywa…what did you do?" neytiri was upset, she was tired of moving from one side to the other.
"If I have to go back to the jungle I'll do it…" you speak, but you see how neytiri and jake look at you with wide eyes answering you with a big 'No'. Jake was not going to let you go back to camp. The family had already decided that you would stay with them, no matter what. Now the problem was telling the kids the news, but they had to. That same day you broke the news to the children. While neteyam, tuk and kiri looked a little upset because they had to leave the place, as they were getting used to it. Lo'ak didn't really care, after his mother was with him. On the other hand you felt very guilty, this wouldn't be happening if you weren't here. You were the problem and it was killing you. Your people were already the problem that Pandora had, but now you were also the problem that your family had.
You were sitting in a corner of the marui, everyone had started to pack everything. According to Jake, they were leaving the next morning. Neytiri looks at you, you were wrapped up like a little ball in a corner. She knew you…she knew you were feeling guilty. Neytiri didn't care for humans, the only human she ever allowed in her life was you. You are the only human she trusts and loves. Neytiri knew that none of what was happening was your fault, she never blamed you or held you responsible for the cruelties your species did, she never would. Because for her you were another creature, as if you were a being apart from your own race. Neytiri approaches you, kneeling down to now be at your level. You look up, meeting Neytiri's gaze. She had a warm smile plastered on her lips. "You know I hate it when you feel guilty," says neytiri.
"But it is… and you know how true. I shouldn't be around you guys, I'm one of the biggest problems you have and I" you are interrupted, when neytiri in one swift movement grabs your wrist and lifts you off the ground. Dragging you into her arms, hugging you tightly. From the emotion and stress you have been carrying all these months you collapse in her arms. And you begin to cry, this attracts the attention of the whole family. Kiri quickly approaches, and accompanies neytiri in the hug and tuk also joins in. "You are not a problem for this family…You are not like them, you will never be like your species. I know…I bet everything on you" says neytiri, pulling away a little from the hug, to fix several pieces of your hair. "I get sad when you cry," says tuk, and you try to calm down, caressing the little girl's face.
Jake is packing things, with neteyam's help. They are both looking at the scene, Jake looks at Neteyam. He looked a little upset, "everything okay?" asks Jake, watching as Neteyam lets go of what he was doing. "I don't understand why they don't accept mom…she's our mother and…I don't understand" neteyam is frustrated. He wishes everyone could see you like they see you here. "teyam not all people think like us and have the same understanding. That's why we'll find another place…we'll be fine" jake taps his son on the arm. Jake turns all around, looking for lo'ak. "Hey where's your brother?" jake asks, neteyam lifts his shoulders. "Mmmm I don't know, he said something like 'I want to take one last walk'" neteyam speaks. Jake sighs loudly, he hopes lo'ak doesn't do anything stupid before he leaves, otherwise he was going to kill him.
On the other hand… lo'ak was determined to behave like a man, like a warrior. He looked for tsireya, the girl was talking to roxto when he saw lo'ak approaching her. "Hello!!!" the girl got excited when she saw him, lo'ak had been missing for a long time. "Hi…hey can I ask you a favor?" the boy asks. Roxto and tsireya gave each other a look. "I need to talk to your father" says lo'ak, he looked determined and confident. "Ahh I don't think so… dad talked about something like he had an argument with your father and I don't think it's the right thing to do" says tsireya.
"I know…but that's why I want to talk to him. I'm sure he'll understand me" says lo'ak. The girl thought for a moment, she didn't think it was the right thing to do. But something told her she had to let him talk to her father. "Ok…come with me" says tsireya, starting to lead lo'ak towards the familiar marui. Ronal was not in the marui, and to lo'ak's luck there was only tonowari. The man sees who is accompanying his daughter, and sighs aloud. "What brings you here?" says tonowari. Lo'ak greets him respectfully. " Dad… lo'ak wants to talk to you" says tsireya.
"But I don't want to talk to him," says tonowari, going on about his business. The girl looks worriedly at lo'ak. But he steps forward. "Sir…please, I need you to listen to me" says lo'ak, making eye contact with the man. Tonowari thinks for a moment, but agrees. Tsireya steps away and leaves them alone. "Why don't you sit down boy" says tonowari. Lo'ak sits down, in comparison to his father. Lo'ak had a serious and determined posture.
"Go ahead…I'm listening" says tonowari. Lo'ak clears his throat and takes a deep breath. "I know you and my father had an argument this morning, and it was about my mother. I know it's hard to understand, that a human is the mother of a na'vi. But look at me…I am proof of that" lo'ak points to himself, raising his hands to show you. "Take a good look at me…I am a hybrid…a mixture of my father and mother. And I'm still a na'vi. You people may think I'm a monster," lo'ak says.
"I don't think that…boy, she is a sky person, they have destroyed everything they touch" says tonowori. "But my mother hasn't destroyed anything and anyone. She is the best person that can exist. She has been through so much… I just want her to be with us. For her to be safe, because she is in danger too." Lo'ak moves closer to the man. "Please give her a chance…a time of trial. And if she does not convince you, we will leave. But I swear to you my mother is not dangerous" Lo'ak is practically begging to accept his mother into the clan. Lo'ak had never been one to beg for help, but for you. He would give the world, he needed you to be here. And he also knew that the whole family needed you.
Lo'ak gets up from the floor, tonowari said and spoke nothing. He just looks seriously at the boy. Lo'ak thanks him for taking care of him and starts his way to the marui. When he arrives he sees how the whole family was packing. "Where were are you?" asks neytiri. "I was saying goodbye to my friends" says lo'ak, walking towards you. Neytiri gives you a look and you signal that you were in charge. Lo'ak sitting down next to you, laying his head on your shoulder. "Mom?" lo'ak speaks softly, just for you to hear. "Yes?" you speak, as you go about your own business. "You're awesome, you know that?" lo'ak says. Feeling you stop, you turn to look at him. You press a kiss to his hair, and he swears he sees your eyes fill with tears. "I know honey…I know" you joke. Lo'ak is just waiting for tonowari to think about what he told him. he needs eywa to help him.
P.s. This part was going to be longer, but I think I got carried away. XD So I split it so there would be another part, I hope you like it. Wait for the next part <3
Tag: @baybaybear1 @hoodiepandaninja16 @teyyyteyyy @anika-rose-walker @victoria2054 @raviolisblog @jessi-dan @neteyams-wh0re @jimfiqs @bitchykittenconnoisseur @chershire23 @holynightnacho @danilezilla
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hushedlover · 4 months
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Can i request a Mike Schmidt who actually got good sleep but his baby sitter/new found crush looks like she was hit by a train and he’s like “just sleep here” and his own thoughts come in with “take my bed.” (Which she tries to deny)
The sound of the front door closing and keys landing in the dish on the foyer table woke you up. You peeked your head over the back of the couch to look at Mike. He’s peeling the security vest off but for the first time ever he looks like he’s slept a full night.
“Hey. Abby still sleeping?” He calls over his shoulder.
“Yeah. Too early for her to be up,” you call back. Something in your voice sets off alarms for Mike. He glances back at you and sees you staring off into space, unfocused eyes blankly settled on the back of the couch. There are deep bags under your eyes and your hair is a hot mess, looking like you’d been tugging at it all night.
“You okay?” He calls tentatively. That gains your attention. Your eyes snap up and focus on his face. Immediately you send him an unconvincing smile as you stand from the couch. You begin gathering your things, keys and bag, while heading for your shoes.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m just- just tired. You seem well rested though,” the smile you shoot him this time is genuine, a softer version of your usual one. “I’m glad. You need the sleep.”
You drop your keys as you’re getting your shoes on, cursing and bending to grab them. Some part of the action through you off balance, and the next thing you know your butt is firmly planted on the hard wood floor. A dull pulsing pain emanates from the point of contact with the surface and you drown, looking down at the floor accusingly.
“Okay, come here,” Mike grunts as he slides his hands under your armpits. With a quiet groan from both of you, he hoists you to your feet. You stumble and regain your balance before looking up at Mike.
“Thanks,” you mutter as heat floods your cheeks.
“No problem,” he says, his brows furrowed slightly. You go to reach for your keys that are seated in his hand, but Mike pulls them back. “Listen, you’re exhausted. I don’t really want you driving home right now. Why don’t you sleep here?”
More heat rises in your face and you shift on your feet nervously. His face is close, almost too close to yours, his brown eyes demanding your focus and attention. His light scruff is distracting, so are his lips, and you almost get lost in them before remembering to respond.
“Oh no, Mike. I’m fine, really. I wouldn’t want to intrude, plus I’m sure Abby will want to watch TV and I don’t want to take over your couch,” You stutter and trip over your words as you try to rush them out.
“What do you-? Oh! No, no I meant like,” you swear you can see red tint his cheeks as his eyes dart away from yours for a second. “I meant sleep in my bed.”
Both of you go silent and stare at each other with wide eyes for a second. You distantly wonder if he can hear your heart pounding in your chest. Or maybe see your pulse jumping in your neck. Suddenly, Mike snaps out of the stupor.
“Not like that! I mean- No, I um, I mean I’m not gonna be using it since I’ll be up and I just washed my sheets and stuff so-“
You choose to save him from his own suffering.
“I would actually really appreciate that.” Just on cue, you yawn softly. “I think I’d be a hazard on the road and I don’t want that to be on your conscious.”
You send him a sheepish smile, hoping he detects the humor in your tone. He must, because his face lights up in a grin. You squeak in surprise when Mike suddenly squats in front of you, gently grabbing your foot and slipping off the one shoe you managed to get on. He stands and helps you shrug off your jacket.
You distantly register the sound of your keys crashing into the tray as Mike leads you down the hall and towards his room. His hand on your elbow is a warm comfort as he guides you to sit on the mattress. He tugs the blanket loose and gently pushes you down. You blink up at him sleepily as he pulls the blanket up to your chin.
“Stay as long as you need. Really. You do so much for us. Just… rest. Yeah?” He smiles down at you and right now you could swear he’s an angel. You feel your lips quirk up out of reflex and your hand reaches up, but you stop yourself before you can brush his cheek.
“Thanks,” you whisper softly. It’s hard to keep your eyes open now. The pillows, the sheets, the blanket, everything smells like Mike and it’s making you delirious. It’s a weird comfort, like Mike is actually holding you in his arms. The smell gets stronger and you want to open your heavy eyes to see why, but the feel of slightly chapped lips against your forehead tells you why.
That’s the last thing you register before sleep drags you into its clutches.
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jaymadii · 4 months
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AGREEMENTS [ Omega!Gojo Satoru x Alpha!Male Reader ]
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Gojo sat in the corner booth of the bar, blocked in my Sugura and Shoko. His drink on the table was forgotten. He’s gaze was locked on you, tucked against the wall by the bar by a tiny omega girl, rudely infiltrating your personal space. If looks could kill you and that girl would be stiff on the floor right now. She was not a subtle about showing off her breasts, bending over and bouncing in that low cut top as she exaggerated whatever she was talking you about. You’re not even a chest man.
This was suppose to be a fun night for the four of you. It was one of the only times that all of you had off, you were gonna get drunk and catch up. You were getting another round of shots for them when this women cornered you. He watched as you grin at her and say something, he couldn’t quite it hear over the music but it made the women laugh. Gojo suddenly regrets the stupid joke he made at the beginning of the night that it was okay to ditch if the opportunity of sex were to arise for any of you.
The world slowed down as he watched you put your hand on her hip and tug the omega closer to you, whispering something in her ear. A sound a protest escaped his lips. Your bodies were pressed flushed up against each other, practically dry jumping at this point. Satoru stood up abruptly from the booth, ready to hop over the table to go…do something? Stop you? Save you? He’s face soured, all he knew is that you weren’t the type to pick up a omega in a bar. He’s watched you turn many omegas down in this exact situation. So you must be drunk, or she must be using her scent on you. He felt Sugura’s hand on his shoulders, yanking him back down to a sitting position.
“What the hell are you doing,” Satoru protested, pushing his friend’s hands away from him. He had to go help you. Geto gave him a disappointing look, glancing at Shoko, clearing opting to keep his mouth shut. He felt her hand in his arm next, a more comforting and softer grip then Geto had on him.
“You shouldn’t interfere,” she began, “You’re just going to confuse or upset Y/N.”
Gojo jerked his arm away suddenly, “What are you talking about?
“You didn’t want to be exclusive with him, well, the road goes both ways, Satoru.”
Oh. He did tell you that, didn’t he? Not even a month ago, while the two of you were bathing in the afterglow of his heat you brought up the idea of courting. He told you no. Almost immediately. Some excuse out being too young to be tied down - only being twenty years old now. It’s not like Gojo had anyone else in mind when he told you that, but he’s young, he can’t have a alpha yet. You told him you understood, that you wouldn’t bring it up again.
You didn’t treat Gojo differently after he rejected you. You were still one of his best friends. You still spent your nights tangled together when Gojo called. You both still knew each other like the back of your hand - except right now, when you’re oblivious to his gaze because you’re too entranced by the omega in front of you. Did you think this wouldn’t bother him? Watching you with another omega, watching you whisper pick up lines in her ear, watching you pull her close in way that’s he’s only ever been pulled close like before. Do you not see him right now?
He watches as the omega turns to the front door of the bar, handing sliding down your arm in a seductive manner as she turns her head to you and give you a knowing stare. He’s going to throw up, you were gonna leave with her, you were gonna sleep with another omega. You take only four steps towards the door before Gojo is flying over that bar table too fast for Geto or Shoko to grab him. He grabbed your free arm, the one that women wasn’t guiding you out by and yanked you back.
You’re gaze, for the first time since you left the booth for shots, returned to Gojo. Gojo who looked like a deer in headlights so you couldn’t even yell at him for pulling you so hard. You could see a glistening in his eyes, and you smelt it - the scent of distress filled the air around you. It was suffocating. You saw Geto and Shoko stand up from the booth to make their way over to the two of you.
“Please don’t.” His voice crackled.
Gojo wasn’t your omega. He had told you once that you had no obligation to him as a alpha. You were not his alpha. But despite that - Gojo was still the omega you loved. He was standing in front of you, nearing tears. How could you not do everything in your power to make him feel okay. You pulled your arm out of the women’s hold, despite her iron grip, and pulled Gojo into your embrace. You tucked his head into the crook of you neck and let out a calming scent, rubbing his sides until you felt his rapid respirations even out. He gripped you like a lifeline. You were out of that women’s grasp now, he just had to keep it that way. Then everything would be okay.
“Excuse you.” She women spat, reaching out to grab your arm. For what, you don’t know. Gojo peaked his head over your shoulder, a growl and a snarl directed at the women. He yelled at her to get back. She jerked her hand back, as if Gojo was gonna bite her if she didn’t. Huffing, she turned away and disappeared back into the crowd at the bar. He eyes never left her, you could feel his fingers digging into your jacket, trying to pull you closer.
“It’s okay,” you whispered in his ear, combing your fingering in his hair and nuzzling into him. You gripped the back of Gojo’s legs, lifting him up to carry him out of the bar to prevent causing more of a scene then you already had. His nose stayed buried in the scent gland on your neck as you carried him inside your apartment.
You never quite understood Gojo’s omega instincts in the rare occasions that he let them show. You were both now sitting on your couch, Gojo was straddling your lap, his scent evened out, but things were still tense. You could feel tears on your shirt were Satoru had his head buried.
“I’m sorry,” he cried, “I’m sorry. I don’t wanna be with anyone else.”
“Gojo…”
“I don’t want you to be with anyone else.” He continued. It felt like someone had ripped his stomach to shreds, and he was able to stop you and that women before anything happened. But how would it feel when you actually slept with someone else? What if you fell in love with someone who wasn’t him? What if you left him forever? What if he missed his chance because he was too young and dumb to accept your love? Just the thoughts of you not being around brought in another wave a tears.
“Gojo,” you thumbed away his tears. “If that is what you would like, I promise.” His eyes brightened a fraction. Small victories. Gojo slipped his hand over yours, nuzzling it against his face and releasing a pleased scent.
“Really?” He hummed.
“Really.” You agreed, “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. I know that you said you didn’t want to be exclusive, but It wasn’t very considerate of me to entertain another omega’s advances with you around. I should have known better, and I’m sorry that I caused you distress.” You bowed your head to the best of you ability given your current position. You’re truly ashamed, Gojo can tell that much. You never apologize unless you truly believe you’re in the wrong, you and him are alike in that way.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
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Your Touch Builds a Bonfire - A John Shelby/Reader One Shot Story.
Just a bit of John smut for my lovelies on this cold Saturday night! Enjoy, darlings :)
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Words - 1,810
Warnings - Spicy smut below the cut, minors DNI!
The way he twirls a pencil between his fingers, watching how the phalanges bend so effortlessly has you in a trance. How he makes a teacup look so small in his grasp. How the veins in the back of his hands bulge when he flexes a hand in his hair, usually when something has frustrated him to the point of anger.  
When he notices you watching, though, that fiery temper of his never fails to cool.  
He knows how much you desire him. He sees it, he’s been waiting for you to make a move, seeing how far he can go in pushing you with little instances of tease. He always finds some way to lightly touch you, whether emphasising a point, sweeping a stray few strands of hair behind your ear, or brushing fallen eyelashes from your cheek, he finds a way.  
You want his hands on you in much finer detail, though. It’s only because he’s your boss and you’re scared to lose your job that you haven’t acted upon it, just in case you’re wrong. It makes you tingle to the tips of your ears, imagining giving him the come on only for him to stare at you incredulously and state that you are mistaken over his intentions.  
Leaving your daydream behind, you turn your attention back to the typewriter ahead of you, the chaos of the bookmaker's offices soon beginning to swirl as the races kick off at various locations around the country. By the end of the day, the final race leaving the men cleared from the space to go and either celebrate or commiserate their wins or losses at the local boozer, you are still at your typewriter, John across the space at his desk, scribbling in the ledger.  
You see him exit his seat without a word, leaving the room, your fingers tapping the final letters upon the page you need his signature upon, pulling it from the typewriter and gently shaking it to dry the ink. Placing it down, you see an arm reach over your shoulder, a whiskey placed upon your desk.  
“Worked hard today, you did,” he speaks, nodding to the glass as you turn to look up at him. “I ain’t in the mood for the pub, but I am in the mood for a few drinks with my favourite.”  
He winks, and heat prickles your cheeks, busying yourself with picking up the drink and taking a big sip, attempting to bolster your confidence a little. It’s what you want, but oh! How the man makes you nervous!  
He’s too gorgeous for his own bloody good.  
“Well, since your other favourite was disappointing today, I can scarcely blame you.”  
He grins, chuckling into his glass. “Yeah, you’re much less trouble than a thoroughbred with the desire to throw his fucking jockey.” He shakes his head, sinking the rest of his drink. “Bloody animal.” He reaches for the bottle he brought with him, refilling his glass, topping yours off too. “You’re still trouble, though.”  
Your face mirrors the confusion his statement makes you feel. “I am?” 
“Oh ar, love. Definitely.”  
Your heart hammers with nervous excitement, taking a long sip of the whiskey before replying. “Why is that?”   
“Because short of diving on you, I dunno what the fuck else I’m meant to do to show you how much I want to take you to bed. If we even got that far. Believe me, I want you so badly, I’d settle for tearing off all your clothes and bouncing you on my cock while sitting in a chair down here.”  
Oh god. There they are, his intentions, delivered with every ounce of cocky confidence you should have known would leak out eventually after his tentative flirtations thus far. John Shelby can only be gentlemanly for so long, though.  
It’s time to cease the wallflower routine.  
Standing up, you don’t take your eyes off him for a long, long moment, the weight of your mutual stare enough to crack the floor below as you gesture to the seat you rose from. “I think we were the wrong way round for that to happen.”  
His mouth curls into a smirk, finishing his drink and placing the glass down, seating himself. You move to him, excitement whizzing through your tummy, gathering the soft material of your summer dress and beginning to hitch it up, John’s hands reaching for you, running up your bare legs as you manoeuvre astride him, sitting upon his thighs.  
The feeling of his hands, hands you have fantasised about for so long finally running over your skin, gripping your hips as he pulls you closer to him causes little darts of warmth to flicker through you, the heat of his hardening cock right against your apex making you tingle with want. His lips press kisses across your chest, hands moving to cup your breasts, tongue running over the half-moon of each soft orb escaping the top of your dress, his soft groan hungry, fingers moving to lower the zip.  
The fabric pools in his grasp as the dress falls from your shoulders, his lips placing ascending kisses to your neck before your mouths finally meet, an exchange of filthy, blazing, hungry need, your heart somersaulting in your chest. His mouth is so ravenous upon you, it knocks you sideways, the urgency of his desire for you, hands clasping at your back, removing your bra will easy skill, like he’s done it a hundred times before.  
He probably has.  
You feel in nothing short of a hundred percent capable, knowledgeable hands, his mouth moving to suck upon your nipple, your head tipping back as you grind yourself against his hard cock, his teeth prickling in bite upon the pebbled bud in response to that. “Fuck, these are some fucking beautiful tits.” His breath flutters hot against you, summer breezing through a spring chill, warming you to your bones, his tongue running slowly from between your breasts and back to your mouth.  
Unbuttoning his waistcoat, your hands slide beneath his braces, levering them from his shoulders, unknotting his tie and unbuttoning his crisp, white shirt, thirsting to feel the skin that lies beneath pressing against yours. His shirt flutters to the floor, his arms tightening around them as your touch tours lithe muscles encased in pale, golden freckled flesh. His hand trails down your body, reaching the cotton of your undies, the fabric dampened by your want for him.  
Pushing you back, he moves you to your feet, pupils blown with lust, gripping those soaking undies and tugging them down. Shuffling the chair forward, he lifts your leg over his shoulder, scattering kisses up your inner thigh, the anticipation making you pant, a soft gasp fluttering over your lips as his mouth meets your folds.  
A hot lick rolls through the wet of you, the light fleck of stubble adding in delicious contrast, his tongue seeking your clit and circling, flickering, evoking your wails, your hands going to his hair, nails flexing against the shaven sides of his head as you mewl in delight. Each lick has your blood running hot, sends glimmers through you, little shocks of pleasure tingling your entire core as your cries rend the air.  
He has you panting hard, each skim of his tongue over your tiny, potent little bundle making your hips rock against his mouth, his arms wound around you, one gripped to your waist, the other squeezing upon the rounded orb of your bum. His full lips close in suck around you, your legs shaking, the heat of it snapping over your bones, the pleasure biting and full-bodied, a bright burn of warmth making the coil within you tighten sharply.  
Flattening his tongue against you, he lets you get off on the wide drag of it, the tip caressing your dewy opening as your clit throbs against the press, his hand moving to begin undoing his trousers.  
“I could fucking eat your beautiful little cunt forever, darlin’, but god, I need you on my cock.” You’re so aroused, you can barely form thought as he pulls it out, and it’s thick and perfect, running it through the slick petals of your sex as you sit back astride him before feeding it into your gaping little hole, filling you with a rumbling grunt.  
White hot pleasure sizzles up your spine, ascending like a flurry of champagne bubbles, the taste of yourself upon his sensuous mouth more erotic than you could have ever imagined, moaning against his tongue as your rock back and forth upon him. The sensations of your walls being split so wide around him has bolts of pure bliss skittering through you, your tender little clit grinding against him as his hips buck up against you, pushing you back to devour your breasts with kisses, nibbles and licks.  
The way his hands tour you, stroking ever rise and curve of your body, it has you just as mindless as the delicious drag of his cock over every sweet spot within you, scraping sparks through your walls, his groans deep and rich as he paws at you with unrelenting hunger. The heat of it roars like a forest fire, the embers sizzling over your nerves as your mutual moans fill the space, bliss tumbling through you both. It’s fervid and delicious, scorching and unrelenting, everything you knew sex with John would be now playing out in an illumination of utter sin.  
His eyes are a bonfire of blue fire as he stares at you, fingers tangling in your hair, kissing you again with urgent need as his cock sends glimmers fizzing through you. It becomes even more uncontained, the power of him beneath you incredible, hands tightening upon your shoulders as he forces you down upon the rigidity of him, making you to take the brunt of every hard snap of his hips, hitting you so deep, you’re sent reeling and mindless atop him as your thighs tremble.  
Your cries reach crescendo as the stars surge forth, entire nebulas glittering into decadent light, your walls fluttering around him, dragging his release from his sweaty body, cock spilling hot into you. You’re both rendered an entwined, panting mess in the wake of it, kissing softly, hands still roaming, John beginning to chuckle.  
“Yeah,” he breathes, nuzzling your nose, “definitely the least troublesome favourite of the day.”  
You beam, your chest still heaving hard. “Want to take me upstairs and see if I can change that?” Your tongue teases the outer shell of his ear, gently nibbling the soft lobe. “I promise not to buck the jockey off.”  
He laughs loudly, locking his arms around you and carrying you to the stairs, his hand smacking against your bum a few times causing your shrieking laughter. “I suppose it’d be fun if you tried to, love.”  
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mattslolita · 3 months
Text
bitch from da souf - c. sturniolo
black!fem reader x chris, backshots, oral ( fem receving )
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do not interact if you're a minor!
"i throw that ass back to see if he gon catch it."
"hello everyone, today we're filming-"
"it's the deaf, mute, and blind baking challenge, period!" y/n grins at the camera, causing nick to glare at her playfully and slap her arm, "nick, what the fuck?"
"that was supposed to be my line," nick said, a fake annoyed tone, causing y/n to roll her eyes playfully.
"anyway!" matt begins, already sensing an oncoming play fight between the two best friends, "we need to decide who's what."
"i call deaf!" y/n grinned, holding her hand up as she looked at the three triplets, "i have the best music taste, let's not even lie."
"facts," nick agrees, pointing at y/n, "let's be mute together."
"you both just want an excuse to listen to music and not do shit," matt muses as he crosses his arms, causing y/n to nudge him playfully.
"you just mad cause you not gon be my deaf twin," y/n shrugs comically, causing matt and chris to roll their eyes.
"i guess i'll be mute then," chris says, and y/n snorts, causing him to glare at her, "what was that about?"
y/n just shrugged, a small smirk on her lips as she helped set up the ingredients. "it's just about time yo ass is finally gon be shut up."
matt's eyes go wide and nick holds back a laugh, whilst chris pokes his tongue inside his cheek and shakes his head at y/n, going to stand next to her as he bends down in her ear. "i can think of a million ways to shut you up, ma."
y/n cheeks heat up, giving chris's shoulder a smack as she gestures to the camera that was currently recording them — he just smirks and goes to get a blindfold while nick hands y/n a set of headphones.
y/n and nick grin at each other as the both of them have their headphones on, chris giving them a look as he's helping tie the blindfold around matt's eyes.
"OKAY, LET'S START!" y/n shouts, clapping her hands together, as she moves to lean on the counter next to chris, "yo matt, open this shit up!"
"oh my gosh, it's our song!" nick says to y/n excitedly, causing the girl's eyes to widen as she grins widely.
"oh bitch, period!" y/n says, beginning to dance as in the party by flo milli is playing in her ears, "yeah bitch i got yo man, since you bad hoe, come catch him if you can!"
matt taps on y/n shoulders as the girl begins dancing. "Y/N, HELP ME WITH THIS!"
y/n turns to matt with a grin, still dancing as she's trying to read his lips. "NO MATT, WE NOT COOKING FISH!"
chris shakes his head as he watches the girl, ultimately deciding to go and help matt once he sees matt throw his hands up in frustration.
"DICKS UP WHEN I STEP IN THE PARTY, YO MAIN DUDE WANNA FEEL ON MY BODY!" y/n and nick sing, dancing with each other, "AND IF I TAKE HIM BITCH, I WON'T SAY I'M SORRY!"
"i do what i want, don't report to nobody!" y/n sings, dancing next to chris, shooting the boy a grin as he's trying to help matt with the batter.
"nick, preheat the fucking oven!" matt yells at the oldest triplet, causing him to look at y/n in confusion as he's still singing.
y/n goes and playfully pushes chris to side, beginning to help matt with the batter. "MATT, I'M GONNA HELP YOU WITH THIS BATTER!"
"i've been telling you to do that for five fucking minutes!" matt yells back to her, and oblivious to his obvious annoyed tone, y/n just smiles at him and gives him a thumbs up.
y/n's eyes go wide as she points at nick again, a big grin taking over her face. "THIS IS MY SHIT, STOP PLAYING!"
"PERIOD!" nick yells, pointing back at y/n, as she starts dancing rather provacatively.
"i throw dat ass back to see if he gon catch it, ain't athletic but it's tennis for the necklace," y/n raps, swaying her hips back and forth.
chris suddenly stops what he's doing as he watches y/n glide her hips back and forth in the open space near the oven and sink, nick hyping her up as she does so — he's also ignored matt's pleas to help as all he can focus on is the way her ass moves up and down as she's dancing.
"ay where that cash at, i stack it like tetris!" she continues rapping, now seemingly in her own world as she continues dancing, "real gutter bitch, real plugs and connections."
chris still had his eyes on her, watching the way nick and her giggled as she continued dancing — she accidentally bumped into matt, causing the boy to groan and shake his head.
"SORRY, MATT!" y/n giggles, hugging the middle triplet then ruffling his hair, and he pushes her off of him causing her to roll her eyes.
"FIRST I MAKE HIM EAT IT TILL HE LOCK JAW," y/n continues rapping, throwing her hands up as she round the kitchen counter, "GIVE IT TO HIM GOOD, KNOCK A NIGGA SOCKS OFF!"
"i run it up, they busy runnin they mouth!" nick raps with y/n, hyping her up, as she goes back to where is, beginning to throw it back again.
"I'M A REAL ASS, RICH ASS, BITCH FROM THA SOUTH!" y/n raps, as she swaying whilst chris was next to her, the boy having had his breath caught in his throat.
chris was well aware that y/n and him were only best friends, but it was hard to look at her like that when since they had first met he'd get so sexually frustrated around her. of course, chris never knew that y/n had always found him attractive too, and would have to refrain from being around him sometimes due to this fact.
like right now, chris had the strong urge to just bend y/n over the kitchen table and fuck her from behind, making her scream his name — he shook his head to try and rid himself of these thoughts, going back to focusing trying to clean up the mess they made.
chris watched as y/n was still bopping her head to the song as she grabbed the tray away from matt, walking over to the oven — he watched the brownskin girl as she set the tray atop, then she bent over to open the oven.
he didn't even realize what he was doing until he reached y/n, gently taking her hips and pulling her ass to him in the hit it from behind motion.
"what the fuck- CHRIS!" y/n says, her eyes wide as she turns to look at him, shock evident on her face.
"couldn't help myself ma, with that ass shaking so pretty in front of me," chris whispers in her ear, pulling his bandana down slightly so she could hear him.
he gives her a wink and slips it back on, nick having watched the two with raised eyebrows. "great, now i have to edit that cause the fans will go crazy."
y/n felt her cheeks get hot at the action chris did, and the fact that he just walked away from her like he didn't just do that — the worst part was that she liked it, she wished he would've done more than that.
"FUCK!" nick yells, causing matt to throw his hands up in irritation, "WE FORGOT TO BUY FUCKING OVEN MITTS!"
"are you kidding me?" matt says angrily, taking his blindfold from off his eyes, looking at his brothers and best friend in shock, "who was in charge of that?"
the three brothers all turned towards y/n, who had finally looked up from where she had put the batch in, giving them confused expressions. "WHAT?"
"you forgot the buy the oven mitts!" matt says, throwing his hands up at her.
"shit, you said what, matt?" y/n asks with a sweet smile, taking the headphones off.
"you- just nevermind," matt sighs, running his hand along his face, motioning to nick, "nick, let's go and buy it real quick."
"fine, whatever," nick says with an eyeroll, taking the headphones off and pausing the music, "please don't do anything stupid while we're gone!"
"the fuck would we do?" y/n asks with a confused expression, and matt shoots her a look of amusement.
soon matt and nick are headed out the door, and y/n lets out a sigh — when she turns around, chris is standing right behind her, his usual smirk on his face as he looks down at the girl with hungry eyes. y/n's breath hitches in her throat at the way he's looking at her, causing her to back into the kitchen table.
"i was serious about what i said earlier, you know," chris says in a low rasp, putting both hands on the counter behind y/n, trapping her in between, "about knowing ways to shut you up."
"then why you ain't did it yet?" y/n challenges, feeling the pool already forming in between legs, as she almost lost balance.
"as much as i want to ma, i wanna have a taste of you instead," chris growls, his large hands going to grab the shorter girl and hoisting her onto the counter.
she immediately pulls him in by the neck and attaches her lips to his hungrily, both of them battling for dominance — chris pulls away slightly, his lips already red and swollen as he eyes the girl greedily, then he reattaches his lips to her neck, leaving sloppy kisses all over it.
he reaches down towards the waistband of her shorts, tugging at it as it snapped, causing a low gasp to escape her lips as she squeezes her brown thighs together. "fuck, i need you so bad."
"lean back mama, i'm gonna make you feel so good," chris whispers in her ear, pressing her stomach back.
y/n leans back and scoots back on the counter, giving him enough access to practically rip her shorts down from under her — he was immediately met with y/n's already glistening pussy, causing his cock to stiffen at the sight.
"look at you, not wearing any fuckin panties," he chuckles lowly, spreading her legs apart whilst keeping eye contact with her, "such a pretty pussy, ma."
"p-please, chris," y/n whimpers, "i need-"
without warning, chris dives in between y/n's legs, not wasting time in licking a stripe up her sensitive bundle of nerves, emitting a moan from the girl. he greedily latches his hands onto het thighs, pulling her closer to him as if she'll somehow slip from his grasp.
"fuck chris, that feels so good," y/n moans out, throwing her head back as her hands find themselves tangled into his brown locks.
he continues pleasuring her with his tongue, burying his face deep inside her pussy as he flicks his tongue on it every which way — y/n lets out moans, filling up the empty space of the kitchen.
"oh fuck, you taste so good," chris says breathlessly, pulling away, his face glistening in her juices.
he dives back in, reveling in the sweet taste of her, knowing that nobody could ever make her feel as good as he is in this moment.
"chris, i-i'm close," y/n moans out, her head still thrown back.
this causes him to finally take his face out of her pussy, a smirk on his face as he does so, which causes her to look at him in confusion. "w-why would you stop?"
"cause you're gonna cum on this cock, ma," chris said, "now bend that ass over."
y/n obliges, getting up from the counter and going to turn around — chris quickly pulls his pants down, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach as it leaks with pre-cum.
he lines himself up with y/n, using her juices as lube as he strokes it once, causing a groan to escape his lips and a moan to slip out her mouth.
"just put in already!" y/n begs.
chris grins as he slowly pushes inside of her, a moan falling from both of their lips. "fuck, you're so tight."
chris begins to move in and out of her at a slow pace at first, the soft slapping of skin can be heard — y/n moans at the feeling of her best friend going in and out of her, having been waiting for this moment for forever.
chris quickly picks up his pace, now slamming into her from behind — y/n grips the kitchen counter in front of her, her breasts bouncing as he fucks into her.
"oh my gosh, fuck chris!" y/n whines out, as he goes to attach his lips to her neck, one of his hands going to cup her breast as the other stays on her waist.
"fuck ma, you feel so fucking good around my cock like this," chris pants out, squeezing her nipple in between his index and thumb fingers.
"i-i'm so close, baby," y/n moans out, throwing her head back, "i'm gonna cum..."
"cum on my cock ma, give it to me," chris rasps, still pounding into her from behind.
y/n releases her juices onto chris's cock, moaning his name as she does so — that's enough for chris too, as he shoots his loud out inside of her, moaning her name as he does.
he helps the both of them ride out their highs, then chris pulls out of y/n, both catching their breaths as the reality of what happened sets in.
"fuck, i've wanted to do that for so long," chris breathes out, helping y/n put her shorts back on.
"you ain't know how long i wanted you to," y/n giggles, looking up at chris, "is this gonna change shit between us?"
"nah," chris says, smiling down at the girl, pulling his pants up, "but let's just keep this between us, alright?"
"you right, matt gon throw a hissy fit if he ever found out," y/n laughed, grabbing some paper towels to clean up the space they occupied.
chris sent a smack to y/n's ass, causing her to gasp and turn to him with a playful glare. "didn't you touch my ass enough?"
"who says i ever got enough of it?" chris grins at her, licking his lips as he walks over to her and squeezes her ass.
"yeah, you definitely an ass dude."
@luverboychris , @mrssturnioloo , @mattsturniolosleftnut 💕 gfs ily
omgggg look who finally wrote some more smut !!😩😩😩 i got hella requests too, so im excited for y'all to read that too ! im so sorry not uploading any, i've lost a little motivation for it, but im tryna bounce back.💌
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queen-of-the-avengers · 2 months
Text
Arabesque
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.7k
Warnings: fluff
Summary: Being a ballerina is everything you've ever wanted and more but after a major injury, you had to stay a step back. Now you're able to get back into it, so you ask the one person on the team who has taken ballet if she can help you.
Squares Filled: “you better have a good excuse for being late again.” (2021) for @blackwidowbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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The mansion is so big that you have to split up from your team in order to cover most of it. You hate being on your own on a mission but this calls for you to be alone. You’re not much for violence but the team needs a sharpshooter, which you are. You’re highly skilled on your feet, very flexible, and light as a feather. You can sneak into a room and not make a sound even if there are fifty people in it.
Someone with that skill is useful on a mission like this one. Someone stole black market weapons that they want to sell to the highest bidder, and you’re here to stop him before they leave. You’re not sure who is behind this but if those weapons get out, a lot of people are going to die.
Your earpiece connects you to Steve, Clint, and Natasha so even though you’re not in the same room as them, you still have them by your side. Your steps are very light as you enter one of the back rooms and there is a man in the back by a table of weapons. It’s the stolen merchandise. If you play your cards right, you can do this without alerting him.
The man takes apart the big guns to be packaged easier in the boxes by his feet. As he is turning to package the guns, you panic thinking he is going to see you and start shooting. You do the first thing you can think of and haul yourself onto a high cabinet soundlessly. The man turns and doesn't see you as he continues to pack the weapons.
You jump from high cabinet to high cabinet as you make your way across the room silently. The space is small and compact but you’re very flexible. You’ve been training all your life to be where you are, and it comes in handy for missions like these. When you get right above the guy, you jump onto his back and tighten your legs around his neck. The man doesn’t have any time to react and begins flailing about trying to get you off him.
You take your knife out of the arm holster and stab his hands that try to pry you off him, and he falls to the ground in a fit of choked gasps. As soon as he is passed out from the lack of oxygen, you step away from him and clean your blade on his jacket.
“I got the weapons. Back room, west wing.”
“On our way,” Natasha says. Your teammates meet you in the back room and see the man sprawled at your feet. “You took him down without alerting the alarms. Impressive.”
One word from her and you’re a blushing mess.
“Thank you,” you smile.
Steve grabs the man while you, Natasha, and Clinbt grab the weapons. SHIELD has been looking for these weapons that will keep them in their inventory while keeping the man hostage to gather more information from him. Everyone wants to celebrate the successful mission but parties were never your thing. Nothing against your friends but you’d rather spend time in the gym than be mingling with all of them.
Tony made a section of the gym to mirror a ballet studio for you to practice in. You’ve taken ballet ever since you could walk since your mother was one. You’re just following in her footsteps, trying to make her proud. The dream is to one day be on stage in front of an audience but you have a long way until you get there. You face the mirror and grab onto the bar so you can do your stretches. You squat down and bend your knees outward for ten seconds before standing up and doing it all over again.
For your next stretch, you turn away from the mirror and bend backward until your head is at the same length as the low bar. You grab onto the bar and lean forward while still holding onto the bar so that your body is in a backward ‘7’ shape. You’re holding this position for thirty seconds when you see Natasha walk into the gym through the mirror. You stand upright and give her a kind smile.
“Nice form. Looks like it feels good.”
“Yeah, especially after a long mission.”
“Little tip? Try using the wall for that stretch and walk your legs down the wall.”
“Have you ever taken ballet?”
“We did it as part of our training.” You open your mouth to ask her something but decide against it. “No, what were you going to say?”
“I was going to ask if you wanted to be my teacher. I could use some help with my form even though I’ve been doing this all my life. I took a long break due to an injury and I’m just now getting back into it. I’d like you to teach me only if you’re okay with it. I understand if it’s too painful for you to, though.”
She chuckles. “Had you asked me fifteen years ago, I would have said no but I can be your teacher now.”
“Great,” you grin.
You two meet four times a week, three times if you have a mission to go on. She is teaching you so much, stuff that you didn’t know about or have forgotten about. While this has been helpful for your ballet career, it’s bad for your thoughts and feelings. It’s no secret that you have a thing for Natasha. How can anyone not have a thing for her? She’s gorgeous, has an amazing personality, is sweet and funny, and puts everyone before herself. She might know based on the looks you’ve been giving her but you haven’t outright told her you like her.
“I appreciate everything you’ve been doing for me,” you say to her.
You’ve learned so much in the coming weeks that brought you closer to her, which is why you two are sitting on the roof overlooking the city below. Tony built the Avengers Tower right in the center of Manhattan so on nights like these, you can see the nightlife.
“So, have you always wanted to be a ballerina?” Natasha asks.
“For as long as I could remember. My mother was one. Maybe that’s why I got into ballet classes at such a young age. I was actually really good until I graduated high school. I got injured on stage which left me unable to perform for years. By the time I could do it again, I lost my way. I started to pick it up over the years but it wasn’t the same. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“I can’t imagine going through Red Room training was fun, but did you like doing ballet? Can you see yourself doing it again?”
“No,” she shakes her head.
“What did you want to do in life? You know, if you weren't an Avenger?”
“I never thought about it. I was taken at such a young age, that I didn’t think I could know anything outside of that training.”
That hurts your heart. She was taken and forced into a life she never asked for. She better off now but at what cost?
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugs.
Moments like these are precious because they don’t last forever. The training sessions after this got better because you two found a way to work well together. She’d help you with your form and you’d try and perform a number for her. It’s working well for you two except your feelings for her are increasing. It’s the way she presses her body against yours to make sure you’re in the right position or her hand on your body guiding you to where you need to be.
It’s driving you insane.
She’s gonna kill me. Fuck.
If you’re late one more time, she is going to kick your ass. You rush down to the gym in hopes she isn’t there. You yank open the door and sigh in relief when you don’t see her in the corner. To make it seem like you’ve been here for at least thirty minutes, you quickly put your shoes on and do some quick stretches.
“You better have a good excuse for being late again.”
You look up and see Natasha by the entrance to the gym.
“Okay, listen, my alarm didn’t wake me up.”
“It’s one in the afternoon.”
“Your point?”
“If you’re late again, I’ll have you on the floor in seconds.”
Damn, why’d that turn you on? Those are delicious yet dangerous thoughts.
“Yes, ma’am,” you nod.
She walks over to you just as you stick your left leg into the air behind you. The only thing you’re balancing on is your right foot on your toes. You arch your back slightly and raise your arms to look like you’re flying. One of the things you’ve had trouble with since getting back into the art is balancing. Natasha puts her right hand underneath your leg to keep it up as soon as she sees you wobbling.
“Don’t think. Clear your mind.” 
She moves her hand from your calf up to your inner thigh, raising your leg as she moves. She grips your hip to get you to stay still, but the only reason why you’re going to crumble to the ground is because her hands are on your body. Her hands are so close to the place where you want her the most even if she doesn’t know it. She must know what she’s doing to you otherwise she wouldn’t do it. You look at her through the mirror and see the slight smirk on her face. That motherfucker. She knows exactly what she is doing.
“Like that?”
“Just like that. Good girl.”
Those two words are what cause you to fall back into her. She catches you in her arms and you put your hands on her shoulders to steady yourself.
“Sorry,” you whisper.
“It’s okay,” she whispers back.
Your body acts before your brain can think. You press a kiss upon her lips but quickly pull back in shock that you actually did that.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn't mean to do that.”
“Do it again,” she says.
This time, you kiss her confidently. Ballet practice just got a whole lot more interesting.
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