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#and I want to do all those things but I can’t
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I try to answer other people’s call lights if I’m not busy, because if my work is done and I’ve helped out with other people’s work, I can fully commit to slacking off guilt free. And usually what people want is bathroom, snacks, and/or pain meds, all of which are pretty easy to address and if there’s anything too complicated, I can always call the nurse. Anyway, I go answer this call light, and it’s for a patient I don’t know and have never spoken to before. I pop in like “hi can I help you?” as I feel so quietly smug about how Helpful I am being, and the patient goes, “do you know if I’m dying tonight? If I am, I should call my family.”
To be so clear. I was expecting like. a request for a ginger ale. I was not prepared emotionally for a very sick stranger grappling with the angst of potentially imminent death. So I go, “UMMM. I DON’T KNOW. LEMME CHECK WITH YOUR NURSE AND SEE IF SHE KNOWS.” This seemed heinously inadequate in the face of their obvious despair, so I added, “probably not in the next ten minutes if you’re able to sit up and ask, but I can’t make any promises.”
Don’t think that was the ideal follow up sentence. But it didn’t seem to make the patient any sadder than they already were. I used to really live in fear of being the nurse in someone’s anecdote about a wildly inappropriate thing said to them by their nurse. It’s not so much as I’ve gotten over that fear as I’ve accepted that my job thrusts me into a lot of situations where I have to talk about extremely intense topics to the people most intimately affected by those topics, often with no time, no prep, and no information. At this point, I just try my best to ground my inarticulate fumblings in as much genuine care as I can express, and thank God I don’t fuck up worse and more often.
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ourautumn86 · 12 hours
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hii can u pls do a story with ellie and a fem reader who is a virgin and ellie talks them thru it ? possibly including fingering and her strap bc im currently obsessed w those and anything else ofc :))
what if i don’t wanna stop
female reader x ellie williams
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cw; +18 content, minors dni!, first time for reader, switches reader and ellie, fingering (r and e receiving), oral sex (r and e receiving), making out sessions, dry humping, face fucking (r receiving), hickeys (r and e receiving), strap on sex (r receiving), mentions of scissoring, cursing, praising, dirty talking, begging, teasing, cum eating, playing with cum, mouth fucking (kinda???) (e receiving), multiple orgasms, scratching, hair pulling (both receiving)…
you and ellie had been dating for a couple of months now. and you couldn’t be happier. she was sweet, caring, understanding, intelligent, gentle, beautiful… and really hot.
and it’s because she’s hot that you were here, in her room a friday night, on her lap, tongue swirling around hers as you tug on her auburn hair.
“baby…” she gasped against your lips, her hands gripping your hips, avoiding to touch your naked thighs, since you were only wearing one of her oversized t-shirts she had lent you to sleep on, and you panties.
“mmmh?” you hummed, kissing down her neck, making her sigh and turn her head to the side for you to give you more space.
“we should stop.” she muttered, hissing when she felt you suck and bite on her skin.
“what if i don’t wanna stop?” you whispered on her ear, and ellie’s heart seemed to stop. her green and now widened eyes found yours. your cheeks were flushed, and your lips swollen from all the kissing.
“yeah?” she inquired, her blown out eyes watching as you bit down on your bottom lip and nodded. she groaned. one of her hands coming up to your neck, pulling you in for a searing kiss that made you moan on her mouth. “you don’t know what you do to me.” she muttered, her free hand coming down your chest to grope at your tits. you grounded your hips down on her lap, making her hum.
“ellie. want you to touch me.” you begged. sure. it was your first time. but you knew what you wanted. one of your hands came up to your neck to grab her hand and guide it to your lips. your mouth took her middle and ring finger inside, your tongue twirling and wetting them. you stared into her pretty eyes. “please?”
“take this shit off.” she groaned, pulling at your shirt and helping you push it over your head, flashing her your perky tits and erect in lust nipples. she couldn’t help but whine. “so fucking beautiful…” your back arched when her mouth made contact with your chest, sucking on your nipples and slightly bitting to leave marks that will make you blush tomorrow morning. “you want me to touch you, baby? want me to make you feel good?” you nodded, fingers lacing on her auburn hair. “come on gorgeous, you know that’s not how we ask for things.”
“please ellie, make me feel good, please…” she hummed.
“good girl.” she softly pushed you down onto her bed, crawling on top of you. her thigh was pushing in between your own, the muscle rubbing against your clothed core. “what do you want to do baby? i could do so many things to you…” she kissed your neck, rocking her leg against your throbbing pussy. her head was spiraling. she had thought about this moment so many times, had fucked her pussy to it more than she could admit… “fuck you open with my fingers, use my mouth on you, rub my pussy with yours, fuck you on my cock…” you whimpered at the thought. you wanted it all. she knew. “greedy girl. you can’t get enough, can you? you just want it all…” she chuckled, kneading your breasts and pulling at your nipples. you nodded. “yeah, my needy girl, hm? don’t worry baby i’ll give it to you. but first… let’s get this off of you, hm?” her fingers dipped into your panties, pushing them down your legs. your cheeks were burning at her intense gaze, hungry eyes taking in your soaked folds and puffy clit. “so fucking wet, fuck…” she sighed, and you twitched when one of her fingers glided in between your folds and bumped against your clit. your hips unconsciously pushed against her touch, making her smirk.
you watched as she pushed her finger covered in your slick inside her mouth, slowly getting on her stomach, her breath hitting your folds and inner thighs, making you tremble. “look at her. so fucking pretty. prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen.”
“ellie.” you whined, embarrassed to be so exposed in front of her.
“so fucking desperate for me.” she chuckled, her fingers opening you up, your entrance twitching in need to be filled up. “gotta give her what she wants, hm?” your back arched and your breath hitched in a gasp when you felt her tongue licking a fat strip from your hole to your clit, leaving a wet kiss on it that made you clamp your legs around her head. ellie grunted, her hands coming up to your thighs to pull them open. “come on angel, stay open for me…” you moaned, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when she went back in between your thighs, your hands pulling at her hair, pulling her closer in need of more. “what is it baby? feels good? like my mouth?” you nodded.
“feels ‘s good.” you cried, whimpering when she harshly sucked on your clit. “fuck!” tears were rimming your eyes. “ellie. ellie…” you moaned her name, making her moan as well at the sweet sound of your pleads. she pulled you closer to her face, burying herself in your sweet slick.
“taste so fucking good.” she groaned, one of her fingers now at your entrance. “gonna push a finger inside, is that okay, baby?” you nodded.
“yes, yes, please…” and she didn’t make you wait. a sigh left your chest at the feeling of fullness, of her finger stretching your slick walls. how had you gone so long without this?
“so warm…” she sighed, kitten licking at your clit, and sucking slightly as she started to thrust in and out of you, wet sounds of your pussy taking her finger filling her room. “you hear that? such a good girl… taking me so well…” you moaned, and a cry left your lips when she curled her finger, hitting that spot in between your gummy walls that had your eyes rolling back. “riiight there, huh?” she curled it again, groaning at the tugging on her locks.
“ellie!” you whimpered as she pushed a second finger in.
“you can take it, babe. i know you can. be a good girl for me, hm?” you nodded. “atta girl.” you moaned, feeling your walls expanding to take her digits, your stomach growing with an impending orgasm as ellie suckled on your clit. “fuck. you sound so good. can’t wait to split you open on my cock.” just the thought of it had you clenching around her fingers and your thighs shaking.
“ellie, i can’t-“ you cried out, feeling your orgasm building up faster and faster.
“what is it, angel? gonna cum? gonna make a mess out of my face?” she smirked, looking up at you through her hooded eyes, sucking on your clit and letting it go with a pop that made you squirm. she was messy with it. spit and slick coating her chin, cheeks and lips. you moaned, nodding, and the pace of her curling fingers only increased. “go ahead. wanna see it drip.”
“i’m cumming!” you whimpered in between moans, screams filling her room as it finally hit you, your ears ringing and vision faltering as she helped you ride it out, licking every last drop of your cum with her tongue, drinking you up until you whined and tugged at her locks due to the overstimulation.
you whined when she pulled her fingers out of you, leaving you empty and needy. “fuck. would you look at that.” there was a pleased smirk on her face as she took in her soaked in creamy white fingers. she caught you staring as well, what made her chuckle. “what is it babe? want a taste?” you nodded, your tongue licking your lips. “why don’t you open up for me then?” she tapped her fingers against your mouth, pushing them inside once you’d followed her orders and making you hum at the tangy essence dripping from her fingertips. you eagerly sucked on them, looking up at her with doe-fucked out eyes that made her groan. “save a little for me.” she whispered as she lowered herself on top of you once again, pushing her tongue inside your mouth along with her fingers.
you hummed, opening your thighs for her to lay in between them, your arms surrounding her neck to pull her closer. ellie moaned when your hands then found their way down her back, nails scratching her until your palms took her ass and pulled from her to grind her against you. she bit down on your lip, a smirk on her face as she stared at you, eagerly sucking on her fingers to play with her. “what is it, hm? one wasn’t enough for you?” you shook your head, pulling her fingers out of your mouth, leaving a kiss on her fingertips.
“want more.” you muttered, making her groan.
“what do you want, huh?” she inquired, kneading your breasts, kissing your neck. she knew how to drive you crazy, how to get you to beg.
“want your cock. please.” her eyebrows raise.
“yeah? my fingers weren’t enough for you baby? you need my cock to stuff you up?” you nodded, making her hum. “why don’t you be good for me and touch yourself a little while i get everything ready, hm? want you stretched out for my dick.” you sighed, watching her get up and start discarding her clothes. two of your fingers plunged inside of your pussy as ellie got rid of her tank top, soft small breasts free for your hungry eyes to take in. next, her sweats, and lastly, her checkered boxers. you gulped and moaned at the sight of her mound’s auburn patch of hair and happy trail. “like what you see, angel?” she chuckled, watching you fuck yourself with hungry eyes. “shit. you’re so fucking hot. got me soaking my boxers.” she sighed, cupping her pussy.
“i’ll clean you up later.” you sighed, and ellie couldn’t help but groan.
“you want to use your tongue on me, pretty girl?” she inquired, taking her strap in between her hands to start buckling it around her hips, the back of it perfectly rubbing her puffy and needy clit. you nodded. “hmm, let’s see if i don’t fuck you dumb enough for you to forget how to use it.”
that promise only made you clench around your fingers, which were completely covered in your slick by the time ellie had found her way back in between your thighs, lube in hand.
“let me see.” she ordered, and you took your fingers out of your pussy with a whine, feeling yourself clenching around nothing. she cursed. “you’re gonna take my cock so well, aren’t you baby?”
“yes, yes… please.” you begged, watching her lube up the silicone before gliding it through your folds. the feeling had your head falling back against the pillows.
“gonna push it in, alright?” you nodded, your legs surrounding her hips as you watched her line the tip up with your entrance. “tell me if it hurts and i’ll stop.” and after another nod, she was thrusting inside. your jaw fell slack at the feeling of your ring of muscles dilating to fit her inside, your gummy walls sucking her in as she slowly pushed more of it inside.
“fuck.” you whimpered, your back arching as one of her hands came down to your clit to draw small circles.
“you’re doing so good for me, baby. such a good girl… how does it feel, hm? how does my cock feel?” your hands came up to her back to dig your nails in, moans falling from your lips.
“more. want more. push it all in.” you pulled from her, and she groaned.
“so fucking greedy.” you let out a choked out scream when she harshly slammed herself inside you to the hilt, hitting your g spot. “this what you wanted?” she inquired as she started to move, thrusting in and out of your wet and squelching cunt. “answer me.”
“yes! yes! feels so good. please don’t stop, ellie. fuck me, fuck me…” you babbled, your whole body tingling in an electricity you couldn’t put into words.
the smell of sex was heavy in the air as she buried her cock inside you over and over again, her lips on your neck and chest sucking new bruises for your skin to remember the exact moment she made you hers.
“pussy so fucking good for my cock. taking me so well.” she moaned, the back of the strap bumping against her own clit. you sounded heavenly, whimpering and moaning as you clutched to her back and shoulders, your legs wide open for her hips. “gonna fuck you dumb baby, gonna fuck you until you forget your own name.” she was babbling, too focused on the feeling of your warm body against hers, of the taste of your salty skin and the harmony of your moans.
“yes, yes, ellie. harder, fuck me harder, please.” you pleaded, screaming when her pace became relentless.
“god, you’re driving me crazy.” she took your hips, pulling you in with every harsh thrust to make her cock reach deeper. it was as if she was drilling it inside of you, messing up your insides. but you couldn’t care, not when it felt this good.
“ellie. i’m gonna cum. i’m gonna cum!” you cried out, your hands coming up to play with your nipples, pinching them and pulling at them, making your back arch and her groan.
“yeah. that’s it. atta girl. play with your tits and soak my cock. cum for me, baby.” the moment it hit you, you swore you could see stars, your pussy gushing on her cock in clenches as waves of pleasure hit you like it’d do on rocks, draining you. by the time you came down from it, ellie had stilled inside you, thumb caressing your cheek as her green eyes stared into your hazy ones. she smiled. “you alright, babe? that was a strong one.” you hummed, pulling her in for a deep kiss that she gladly received, kneading at your hips. “gonna pull out, alright?” you nodded, hissing slightly when she pulled the silicone out of you, her hands making quick work of pulling the strap out of her hips to let it slide to the floor. she’ll clean it later.
ellie laid down beside you, the two of you taking a moment to even out your breaths.
after a few minutes in silence, she got on her side to look at you, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “how do you feel, was that alright?” you smiled, chuckling at her concern.
“it felt amazing ellie. thank you.” you left a soft peck on her lips, making her cheeks slightly flush.
“why are thanking me for, silly?”
“for making me feel so good…” you muttered against her lips, one of your hands trailing down her chest in between her tits, making her skin abrupt in goosebumps and her breath hitch. “so good i can only think about repaying you…” you bit down on your lip, staring up at her.
she gulped. “yeah?”
“hmm-mmmh.” you hummed, slowly pushing her down onto the mattress. “wanna make you feel just as good, ellie.” she sighed as you played with her breasts, experimentally sucking at her hardened and small nipples, softly biting them and gracing them with your teeth. “would you like that?”
“yeah.” she nodded, and you smirked, slowly creeping your way down her body, laying flat on your tummy in between her thighs. “oh god.” she muttered at the feeling of your soft supple lips on her inner thighs, leaving fluttery kisses.
“gonna teach me how to eat you out, ellie?” you inquired, knowing that your filthy words would take a toll on your girlfriend.
“yeah.” she repeated. she seemed to be short on words. cute.
“how should i start?” you asked, leaving a kiss on her mound. your mouth was watering. she was completely soaked, and smelled so good…
“your tongue… use your tongue.” you hummed, smirking when you heard her breath hitch and a curse leave her lips when you made a fat strip up her slicked folds. you moaned at the tasted, savoring every last drop of it.
“like that?” you inquired, giving her another tentative lick, groaning when her fingers laced in your hair to pull.
“yeah. just like that. jesus christ.” you looked so fucking hot lapping at her cunt, it was driving ellie crazy. she had been so close to cumming earlier by the sight of you taking her strap that now she just was completely lost on the feeling of your mouth on her.
you hummed in pleasure. “you taste so good, els.”
ellie could me help but whine, her grip tightening on your hair.
“you like eating my pussy, baby? you like eating this pussy?” you nodded, slurping on her juices as if you were starved. “fuuuuuuck.” her eyes widened and a loud moan left her lips at the sudden intrusion of one of your fingers inside her slick walls. her back arched, her hands pushing you impossibly closer to her core. “don’t stop. god, don’t stop.” you focused on sucking on her clit as you fucked her open with now two of your fingers, curling them like she had and smirking when whimpers would fall off her lips.
“you close, els?” she nodded, biting down on her bottom lip.
“so close, shit. i’m gonna cum.” she cried.
“cum for me. wanna taste it. want you to fill my mouth, ellie. please.”
“yeah? want me to fill your mouth with my cum, baby? make you choke on it?” you hummed, and her hips jerked. “then take it. fuckfuckfuck, take it.” she groaned, fucking herself against your face and fingers as moans and grunts left her lips, cumming all over your mouth, cheeks and chin.
you whimpered at the taste, the white creamy essence filling your mouth as you fucked her through it, her little sounds heavenly to your ears.
as she came down from it, ellie found herself panting, her heart pounding on her chest as he tried to pace her breathing.
“holy fuck.” she chuckled as you pulled your fingers from her cunt, dipping them in between your lips to lick them clean. “come here.” she said, hosting you up her body to press a kiss to your lips. you could taste yourself on her spit, just as she could taste herself on yours. it was the perfect mix.
“was i good?” you inquired, gracing her cheek as her eyebrows arched.
“‘were you good’?! babe you were amazing. i’ve never cummed that hard in my life.” you chuckled, hiding your face in the crook of her neck, feeling her hand trailing up and down hour back in slight caresses.
“you’re dumb.”
“and you’re fucking beautiful.” you looked into her eyes, a soft smile on both your faces as you leaned down to press a peck on her lips. a peck that ended up deepening into a messy and wet kiss that left you throbbing all over again. ellie pulled away, a string of spit connecting you both. “second round?” you nodded, and laughed as she pushed you on your back and crawled on top of you.
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That's My Man
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~500
Warnings: fluff
Summary: Spencer gets a haircut and you have a most pleasant reaction to it.
Square Filled: holidays (2023) for @cmbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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It’s been an entire month since you’ve seen your boyfriend but he’s back now. He spent Christmas and New Years with his mother back in Las Vegas while you stayed with your family in Virginia. You two are still so new that you haven’t had the chance to meet his family, and you weren't going to let your first meeting be the holidays.
If and when you’re going to do it, you want to do it right.
While the holidays might be over, the snow is still coming down in waves, making this a white winter. Snow is probably your favorite kind of weather because you get to create angels and snowmen and forts and anything else you want. You want to do that and go ice skating with Spencer tomorrow when the sun is out but for right now, you’re going to have a movie marathon.
He’s staying over for the entire weekend and you can’t be more excited than you are right now.
“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice comes from the front hallway. The door opens to face a solid wall fifteen feet from the door. To the left is the kitchen and to the right is the living room. “I’m here!”
You gave him a key pretty early on because you already knew he was the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. It’s one of those things where you just know. You love him so much and you don’t want to waste any time with him.
“In here!” you call from the right. Spencer shrugs off his jacket and hangs it on the hook in front of him before closing and locking the door. He walks into the living room and you turn to greet him when a confused frown sits on your face. “Why are you wearing a beanie?”
Spencer hates hats. He doesn’t like the feel of them or how he looks in them. Why is he wearing a beanie? He hasn’t all winter.
“I don’t know. I liked how it looked on me.”
“Mmhmm.” You get up and walk over to him. “Now what’s the real reason?” He looks shy as if he’s embarrassed to tell you. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything is fine. Just… don’t laugh, okay?”
“Okay.”
He takes off his beanie and your jaw practically drops to the floor. He messes with his hair to make it look good but you’re fixed on that the fact that he got a haircut. He doesn't have long curly hair anymore. It’s short and slightly spiked. There are longer pieces in the front but he’s cut it all off.
God fucking damn. He looks so goddamn fine.
“Please say something,” he sighs, unable to take the silence anymore.
“Oh, my God.” He lowers his head knowing you must hate it. “Look at my man!” He snaps his head up as a slight blush creeps up his neck. “Damn, you look so good! Is that Spencer Reid? My gorgeous man?”
“Okay, stop,” he smiles, blushing profusely. You jump into his arms and kiss his face all over, and he tips his head back and laughs. “Okay, okay, okay!”
You pull away with a loving smile and keep your arms wrapped around his neck.
“You look very handsome.”
“Thank you,” he smiles.
Choosing you has got to be the best thing he could have ever done for himself.
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Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
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tddyhyck · 2 days
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fluffy bunny [ l.dh ]
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pairings ⇢ haechan x afab!reader
word count ⇢ 3.3k
warnings ⇢ 18+, dom/sub dynamics, both haechan & reader are switches, pegging, orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, strapless strap on, anal/rimming/fingering (male receiving), face sitting/riding, spanking, cum eating, snowballing/cum swapping, nipple play
nicknames ⇢ hyuck (baby, princess, bunny) / reader (daddy, baby)
playlist ⇢ espresso _ sabrina carpenter / sexy silk _ cumkitten / sugar rush _ bibi / want it all _ ashnikko
note ⇢ a wee bit obsessed with hyuck in the my melody jacket i can’t help it
masterlist
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you’d been teasing him all day after waking up to him rutting against your thigh, hot breath puffing against your neck. you’d left him high and dry and extremely hard. pattering around the house in your my melody hoodie and his boxers sporting a damp patch of precum covering his hard member.
he’d come up behind you while you munched on your breakfast. fluff covered arms encircling your waist before grunting when he grinds against your ass.
“not yet baby,” you say calmly, tapping a finger on his hand.
“need you so bad.” his voice is light and airy when it hits your ears.
“wait a bit,” you say, turning to face him. “you can be patient, right princess?” he nods vigorously but you feel his cock pulsing against you, it’s sweet how needy he is.
“how long do i need to wait?” his eyes are big and pleading.
“hmm.” you tap his nose, thinking. “i dunno, maybe all day.” you smirk when he whines burying his head in your neck. you loved him when he got like this, needy and begging. he wasn’t normally like this; usually he was fighting you for dominance or winning the fight and taking control. but when he was like this, letting you take him how you wanted, it made your mind run wild.
he continued his horny begging game for the rest of the morning and into the afternoon. you’d leave the room but watch around the corner to see him grind against his palm. stalking back over to him tutting at him for touching himself. he’d whine all over again hanging his head embarrassed but he still did it everytime.
“can i just touch it a little bit,” he mumbled, looking down at his cock while he lifted the hem of the hoody.
“not yet, told you to wait,” you replied, glancing at him over your phone. he stood in the doorway of your room. a glimpse of his tummy peaking out as he displayed his dirty boxers. you could tell he was painfully hard but that just made things more fun.
“hurts so much, need to cum,” he whined, wiggling his legs out of frustration as he stomped over to you.
“you keep working yourself up. look at the mess you made,” you nodded to his boxers. the patch of precum had grown slippery and wet over his slit.
“can’t help it,” he reached a finger down, swiping over the slick liquid. he brought the finger to his lips staring you down as he swirled his tongue lewdly tasting himself.
“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes at him.
“but you like it,” he says. he rutted his hips up proudly showing off his cloth-covered cock to you.
“do i?” you quirked a brow before swiftly flicking a finger over the head of his cock. he doubled over whining from the touch. he felt like he was on fire.
“take them off, you've already ruined them.” you told him. he looked up at you with those big brown eyes. he stood upright and tugged the fabric down his legs so fast you almost missed the bob of his heavy cock.
“can you touch me now?” he gripped the hem again so as to not touch himself.
“i just did.”
“no please, like really touch me. want you to touch me, daddy.” he was playing the same games you were. and he knew what calling you that would make you do.
and that’s what you were doing now, thoughts about the boy spread out in front of you, dark and debauched. you rubbed down his legs before bending his knees dragging your nails down the exposed backs of his thighs. he shivered under your touch moving his hands from the sheets to hold his legs open for you.
he squirmed, the hair on his forehead and hood framing his face. whimpers filled the room as your nails dragged over his soft thighs; goosebumps prickling in your wake. the sheets bunched under his fingers gripping and releasing rhythmically.
“good boy,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss to his hot skin. you slid your tongue against the skin before you pulled back and blew on the wet patch. he whimpered and choked when you bit at the flesh. sucking marks into his plush thighs, switching from right to left. bruises blossomed with bite marks littering against unblemished tan skin.
“please,” he mewled, just as your mouth hovered over his cock; hole on display for you.
“you’re so cute,” you muttered before dipping down to lap at his hole. he freezed whining long and loud the moment you made contact. his knuckles were white gripping to keep his legs up for you. you smirked, peaking up at him when you swirl your tongue. his eyes clamped shut but his jaw was slack, chest heaving from the lightest licks.
you sunk down deeper on the bed diving into him. hands smoothing over his tummy and hips making him relax under you. your tongue lapped at his rim and spit dribbled down his chin. prodding your muscle against his hole, you slipped your tongue inside. he whimpered above you, sweat trapping his hair to his forehead.
his sounds filled the room but your slurping was getting louder. your chin was wet and messy from slobber as you ate him out. his cock bobbed heavily, precum pooling onto his stomach with every flick of your tongue. curling the muscle inside him making him squirm. you couldn’t get enough of him, grinding against the bed, the plastic cock rubbing against your clit. moaning against him, the vibrations making his thighs shake around your head.
“you could cum just from my tongue,” you announced, pulling away from his slick hole. he whined, nails pressing into his skin.
you grinned down at him trailing a finger through the spit covering his rim. he shivered at the touch, his tummy swelled with wonder of what you would do next. reaching over him, tits falling into his face. his mouth chases you with his tongue out as you grab the bottle of lube on the nightstand.
releasing his thighs he moves quickly to grip your waist keeping you in place. suckling your nipple into his mouth making you mewl. you pet his head as he sucks and teases teeth over the hard bud. grinding down, he cries out when the faux cock rubs his untouched cock. his mouth falls open hot breaths against you as you continue moving.
“needy boy,” you smile leaning down to press your lips to his cheeks. the heat when you move away settling back between his legs.
he watches you intently, eyes following every movement as you pop the cap and squeeze the slippery substance on your finger. thumb rubbing against your finger warming the lube as your other hand pushes his legs back. whining when you slide a finger down his balls and over his perineum. your finger taps at his rim before pressing into him.
gasps fall from his lips as you curl your finger inside of him. slowly you begin moving your finger in and out. finding a steady pace, as you soothe your other hand over his shaking knees.
“oh my god,” he whines when you touch the spongy spot inside of him. you continue rubbing against the sweet spot that makes tears well in his eyes.
he wants to touch himself, you just know it. his hands reaching up before stopping himself by clenching his fists. his head spins with every flick of your wrist and it’s almost too much. the overwhelming desire to cum, bubbling in his tummy, but the burn of waiting feels so good.
“daddy,” he sobs when you push a second finger into him. his name for you lighting a fire in your chest. the need to please him overwhelmed you, making you flick your wrist faster. his knees quivered and toes curled as his clenching fist reached for you. obliging, you intertwined your fingers rubbing over his hand.
“want your cock,” he whimpered, tugging at your other arm that was still pumping into him.
“you think you’re ready?” cocking a brow at him. his face was tinted pink to match the fluffy hoodie he still wore. he nodded his head eagerly, brown locks bouncing with the hood. “beg.”
“need,” he moans, as you pull your fingers from him. puckering hole clenching around nothing politely asking for more. “you.” he finishes.
“want your cock.” he pauses, hand slithering avoiding his red cock. reaching down circling his own finger around his rim, head lolling back as he touches himself. “here. need you here.”
you stare as he pushes his own finger past his clenching hole he whines discontentedly. “ ‘s not enough.” sinking back on your heels you reach for the lube again. smothering the cock with it, you rut your hips fucking into your hands; thrusts match his fingers and he moans when he notices.
biting his lip watching you fuck into your fist. hyuck pulls his fingers out reaching up to press the button where the toy enters you. one click and a quiet buzz begins.
“fuck,” you groan. vibrations fluttering against your clit and filling your stretched cunt, clenching and sucking the toy in further.
“need you to feel it too, daddy,” he stared up at you longingly, a hand stroking the cock between your legs while his own bobbed heavily.
“such a sweet baby,” you coo, non sticky hand petting his head pulling the hood back up. the small bunny ears flop and frame his face. softly you push him back against the mattress and he lifts his legs for you.
“do not ruin this by cumming on it,” you say sternly pushing the hem of your hoodie up to his chest right beneath his nipples. he gulps and nods. the precum smeared over his stomach is just low enough to have avoided the fabric.
settling between him stroking your cock lining the head up with his hole. you reach to squeeze more lube over his balls watching it slip down over his hole before you press into him.
“daddy,” he garbles. you’re barely inside of him and his lashes are wet again. you press into him fully and he swallows all of you, hips chasing for more. you massage a hand around his balls as you begin to move your hips.
“so full,” voice raspy and soft.
“such a needy hole. begging for cock like a bitch,” you groan, squeezing the hand around him.
“your bitch,” he croaks. his words making you speed up fucking into him harsh and fast your thighs slapping against his.
“daddy’s little bitch, huh?” he nods erratically spit dribbling out of his mouth as you thrust particularly deep. “gonna make you a tshirt, baby.” you tease.
your hands roam his skin gripping it when your toy pulses perfectly inside of you. it makes your hips jerk and brush the head of the cock just so that his toes curl.
“soooo good,” he moans. the hem of the jacket drifts up as you thrust into him. tan skin peaking out deliciously. he cries when the stiff hem scrapes his nipples.
“aww baby,” you coo. “so sensitive.” you tug the material so it rubs against him again.
“is too much,” he mumbles, reaching to move the fabric but you stop him.
an evil smile graces your lips when you see his cock pulse. leaning over him, keeping rhythmic movements. unbuttoning the bottom clasp and flipping the material to see his brown nubs. you drag a finger around the skin and somehow it hardens more.
“no please. i’ll - it - i’ll cum,” he whines pathetically.
“well i guess you have to control yourself,” teasing him as you continue to fuck into him. his knees are drawing together and the fire in his belly already big and bright and he knows this will be the end. the moment you touch his nipples it will all spill out of him like a dam.
“can’t, daddy please,” he sobs. he’s such a sight, with tears on his flushed cheeks, pink bunny ears surrounding his face. his lip quivering with every drag of your hips. one hand weakly gripping your wrist the other still attempting to hold his legs back. it’s all you at this point and you can feel his knees spasm in your hands.
“don’t cum,” you whisper. he jolts when your fingers pinch the bud. the small of his back arching off the bed and cock bouncing up. he shudders doing his best to keep his orgasm from bubbling over.
“shit shit, daddy,” escapes his throat as you roll the nub in your fingers.
“aww princess don’t cum yet,” you tease. flicking his nipple with a devilish grin. he sobs cock jerking up, ready to spill.
“please daddy, was so good. i’m patient. waited all day.” he begs but it comes out garbled. each thrust into him has him choking on his words and your own pleasure builds in your stomach.
“you were very patient weren’t you,” he nodded in response.
“it’s gonna all come out, please. can’t help it,” he sniffles. you take pity on your cock drunk princess. pinching his nipple again before releasing it and he sighs in both relief and disappointment.
you don’t let him linger on it using both hands to push his legs open and back. fucking into him roughly, little whimpers spilling out of his mouth. his eyes are shut focusing on holding himself back. it gives you the chance to sneak your head over his chest before you tongue at his overly sensitive nipple.
“no no, unuhn, no,” he pleads. you just look up at him mischievously.
“cum for daddy.” you mutter against his skin. closing your lips around the nub teeth grazing it making him cry out.
“ffffuck,” he shakes, orgasm sweeping over him. you pull back to watch. his hips rutting as cum shoots up over his chest in thick ropes. the hot white in his belly doesn’t stop while you continue the motion of your hips. every drag spurting more cum onto his tummy up to his nipples. he’s such a sight, a thick layer of sweat over his entire body, eyes rolled back with a wide open mouth. you slow down as his hips jerk dryly.
“so good for me,” the praises pour from your lips like water. “you did so well.” he sighs, looking up at you peacefully and sleepily.
“you fuck me,” voice rough and gravely as he pauses when you pull out of him. “so fucking good.” he whines as he clenches emptily.
“you came so much for me,” your finger trails in his cum collecting it on your fingers drawing crude hearts with it. he grabs your wrist and lifts your fingers to his lips. you curse as he swirls his tongue around tasting himself.
“you’re so nasty,” you murmur, before leaning down and slurping over his chest. tongue collecting his cum into your mouth.
it’s gross and messy when you lift your head cum swirling in your mouth before tugging his jaw down and opening his mouth. his tongue hangs out waiting for your delivery. slowly, you part your lips cum dribbling down and onto his tongue as he laps at your lips. pressing your lips to his swapping the cum between your lips with lewd slurping sounds.
the kiss is deep and hot, his lips moving in tandem with yours. when you pull away spit and cum connect your lips and it has gathered on the corner of his mouth.
you gasp when he grabs your hips harshly tugging you to him.
“lemme do you now,” he rasps, winding a hand between you to turn off the slowly pulsing toy. you moan into his mouth when he pulls it from your cunt. slick spreads over the toy as he glides it between your lips and over your clit. he pulls it up staring into your eyes as he takes the toy in his mouth moaning as he tastes you.
“taste so fucking good come here,” he groans tossing the toy aside and leaning back as he tugs you up his body. you look at him confused and he just rolls his eyes continuing to pull you over his body.
“if you don’t sit on my face i’ll cry,” he announces.
“you were crying so prettily ten minutes ago,” you giggled, but the hand slapping your ass shuts you up. you shimmy over his chest, looking down for confirmation and he nods happily and pushes you to rest on his face.
“fuck, i can die here,” he mutters against your thigh before licking over your cunt. you groan when his tongue flicks on your clit. his hands creep around your thighs to pull you even closer to him as his mouth engulfs you. hot breath puffing as he sucks your clit into his mouth.
“holy shit,” you whimper, looking down to see him already looking back at you. menacing eyes peeking from beneath you and the bunny ears still lay on the top of his head.
skilled flicks of his tongue leave you quivering over him, tummy flipping. you can already feel the pleasure coming closer, building over the time you spent inside of him. now his tongue is prodding inside of you, pressing firmly into your hole. you want to roll your hips, bounce against his wet muscle but shyness overtakes you. it’s like he notices, trying to hold you closer to him and lifting his head to press his nose against your clit, but he pulls away not even a second before you can feel him.
“i want you to ride my face, not hover, not even sit. fucking grind on my tongue.” his voice comes out wet and hoarse, before he tugs you down on him. you listen this time rolling your hips with his tongue. groaning out, you reach for his hair tugging at the messy curls. he continues lapping at your cunt, sloppy and messy, lewd slurping fills your ears.
the hot burn in your belly washes over you and you can’t stop your hips from jerking against his hot mouth.
“so close,” you moan out. his hand snakes around your stomach reaching for your nipples, twisting and tugging the bud in his fingers.
“cum on my face,” it comes out garbled and even sexier than any other time he’s told you. the heat floods you as you cum, mouth wide, silent moans trying to slip out. his tongue stays on your swollen clit, movements continuing even as you shake against him. pleading whimpers begging him to stop going unheard.
“too much,” you squirm over him but he grips your hips tighter, sucking you into him. your orgasm barely fading before he’s pushing you into another, tears welling in your eyes. the feeling of his hot mouth was too much, you felt surrounded by him and you couldn’t escape the pleasure. you lifted onto your knees weakly trying to pull away and he released you, mouth ghosting over you as you pulled back.
“swear your pussy is the 8th wonder of the world.” he peers up at you, the lower half of his face is shiny with your juices and his spit. but he looks so pretty. “taste so good.” he says, dragging a finger over you making you shake again. he swirls it in his mouth moaning at the taste.
“fuck, no more,” you whine attempting to roll off of him.
“i feel like you deserve a taste of your own medicine,” he grins, watching settle on the bed. you keep your legs apart not wanting any pressure on your cunt.
“you act like you didn’t love it.” you roll your eyes as he sits up on his elbow. the hood is falling slightly but the bunny ears still flop cutely around his head.
“i did, i do. but i love being mean to you.” he pouts quickly, slapping a hand over your exposed cunt. you groan, throwing your head back as the sting fills your lower half.
“hate you.”
“who me,” he fakes, shocked. “your little fluffy bunny?”
“such a pretty fluffy bunny,” you coo petting his hood and playing with the bunny ears.
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© tddyhyck
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@kyydreamies7 @apuppygirlfriend @puduwhore @haechansbbg @noonaisreading @elleluvstaegyu
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hotchfiles · 1 day
Text
— help me hold onto you • aaron hotchner
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fem!reader, unprotected vaginal sex, a bit of angst.
he knew he would be in trouble whenever he turned those keys. what he wasn’t expecting was how big the trouble would be. he had no idea he would open the door to three bags full of clothes and other things he left at your place as the months passed, waiting for him.
“darling? what–what are these?” he asks even though he knows the answer, hoping you want to at least talk about it before making any harsh decisions. you’ve been in a relationship for almost a year now and it works. it always worked.
normally you wouldn’t drink before an argument, still when he gets to the kitchen he sees you calmly sipping on a tall glass of wine, fingers tapping on the table, hair up, face clean but red, you were in your pajamas already, nothing like you probably looked hours before.
“what’s the only thing i asked of you, aaron?” you don’t move, don’t glance up at him, eyes focused solely on how the purplish red liquid moved in your glass, taking a big sip right after.
aaron sighs in frustration, he didn’t want this to become a fight. he was so tired. “i know, i’m sorry–”
“answer the question, please.”
“don’t make promises i can’t keep.” he takes his tie off quickly, suddenly feeling suffocated by the fabric surrounding his neck. that’s why your relationship worked, you knew he was busy and his schedule was unpredictable, so very early on you accepted it as it was, saying you wouldn’t be mad at him as long as he didn’t break any promises. if you’re not sure, don’t promise me you will be able to make it.
first months he wouldn’t promise you anything, too afraid to break it, to disappoint you.
he watches as you take the wine in a mouthful and refills the glass, the bottle now empty and starts getting frustrated, you’re a loud drunk and you’re surely already getting tipsy.
this was the first time he slipped up, it didn’t need to be such a big deal, it didn’t avail to having his things right at the door as if he was getting kicked out. all the other times he promised he could take time off, he did it. just–teens were getting kidnapped, the team needed him.
“we saved two girls today.” low blow. but it was true, he wasn’t back in time because of that, he got on the jet instead of staying back to do that. to save two thirteen year old girls. not some futile reason. it had to count for something.
“i’m proud of you for that, aaron. are you proud of me? for the promotion we were supposed to celebrate with my boss? or are our accomplishments only worth it when it’s about saving someone?” you raise your voice only slightly, the alcohol from the sweet wine getting to you slowly and then all at once.
you always tried your best to keep your voice down when arguing with him, simply because he never raised his, and it could be an endearing feature if it didn’t look like he did it to look like the rational one, the right one.
“that’s not what i said–”
“i know what you said. you want to make the fact you let me down okay because you did a wonderful thing someplace else. that’s not how it works.” you open the second bottle of wine of the night, feeling his eyes on your back. “i want you to leave.”
“you know this is ridiculous, you’re acting like a child.” sore spot. you were a few years younger and that had never been a problem. but he couldn’t go back now, he could see the anger darkening your eyes, your knuckles turning white by the strength you’re using to grip on the edge of the table.
“how am i a child?” you begin slowly and keeping your voice down, you get up finally from the chair you had been sitting, facing him directly, his instincts make him try to touch your arms, but you dodge it quickly. “we had an agreement. you broke it. am i a child for not giving you permission to hurt me again?”
he knows you’re about to snap, your chest coming up and down in rapid breaths, and he doesn’t feel particularly in the right, he knows he screwed up and he’s sorry, but your reaction is out of proportion to him, an exaggeration made to make him feel more guilty than he already does. “i said you’re acting like a child. the one time things don’t go your way and you’re packing me out?” aaron almost feels the sharpness of a slap but he’s quick enough to grab your wrist. “see? proving my point.”
“how many times do i have to accept you screwing up so i can be seen as mature?” you yank your arm out of his grip and go back to your drink, “same times as haley? how many times did she forgive you so you could go around and do it all again?”
lower blow.
hotch feels it right in his core and he’s angry at you for bringing up but more so angry at himself because you were right. still, it is anger nonetheless that guides his next actions, quickly and firmly walking up to you, caging you against the table in sudden movements.
your breath hitches from the surprise, and your attempt to move is stopped by his roughed hands on your chin, firm but never close to hurting. “i’m not leaving.” you wince, not in fear of him, but of how easy he can make your mind go blank when he’s that close.
his eyes go from your eyes to your lips, he notices your failed attempt to conceal the way you licked your lips, he glances at your chest, heavy breathing under your thin pajama shirt, nipples hardening against the fabric.
damn you for choosing wine.
hotch reads your mind almost, but his smirk doesn’t last too long displayed on his lips, your hands pulling him by the neck, a low groan followed by a “fuck this” leaving your wine tasting lips just mere seconds before gluing to his.
eager to get your forgiveness, he is quick to follow your lead, both hands sneaking under your clothes, one down the waistband of your shorts, grabbing hard on the flesh of your ass, the other drawing soft circles on your nipple.
you melt into the kiss, his lips, his hands, his scent, him. and you have no time to feel bad about it, pulled up to sit on the table, legs around his waist, you can feel how hard he is against your wetness.
a pained whimper leaves his lips when you use the new position to grind onto him, needing something, anything against your clit at this point.
aaron sinks his teeth into your bottom lip to get your full attention, earning a loud moan in response, his hands travel your thighs and you pull his shirt out his pants so you can feel his skin under your fingertips, not bothering to unbutton them and working with what you got under it.
his lips travel your neck and your collarbone, “i love you, so, so much”. his declaration comes in between kisses and the sucking of your skin, “please don’t make me leave after this.” it comes in a whisper now, but he doesn’t stop, pushing your shorts down and sliding it down till it drops to the floor with your help.
“just shut up and take your pants off.”
“you know i can only do one of those.” it makes you laugh and you sink your nails to the bit of fat on his side, the tiniest bit of annoyance at how easy he had you in the palm of his hand and how he didn’t even seem to know it truly.
on the edge of the table sliding his hard cock into your folds was an easy feat, pants, shoes and his boxers long gone, his socks stayed on almost making him lose balance as he feels just how wet you are. he drops his head, forehead on your shoulder
“fuck—oh my god, you are so wet, you’re always so wet for me.” it isn’t arrogant, it’s appreciative almost, you move his head so you can look at him, hot, sweaty already, cheeks so red as his eyes were glassy, the mix of lust and love and regret clear in his dark caramel irises.
you kiss him once more, sweet, forgiving and he takes this as his sign to continue, pushing you down the table, hotch holds your thighs for support, plunging his cock into your wet cunt with ease, bottoming out at the first thrust. you enjoyed the stretching pain and you never had the patience to wait.
lower lips between your teeth, you slide one of your hands to your clit, two fingers working your arousal, quickly replaced by aaron’s calloused fingers. you arch your back and moan loudly, “fuck, yes, and move.”
it feels like an order and for hotch it is one, he is delighted to oblige, maintaining the same finger moves on your clit and beginning to fuck your pussy, strong, firm and precise at first.
“honey, fuck—please…” his begging is meant to warn you that if you keep clenching around him he won’t be able to control himself, you almost don’t listen, fingers working on your own nipples enjoying the high he is always able to get you in.
“aaron—i’m… fuck, don’t stop, you’re so good.”
the praising, the guidance, the reassurance, it makes the moans leaving his lips seem like whining, he enjoys it too much.
“yeah? like this?” the way your hands try to grab him is enough answer to him, along with how tight your pussy is throbbing against him, you’re almost there, he can feel it.
his movements on your clit get sloppier, the sight and sound of your wetness against his digits making him go insane. your back arches once more and your whole body begin to squirm, the tight coil in your lower belly finally ripping, “yes, fuck—“ you’re breathless, weak, but you still have it in you to edge him in, “aaron, baby, cum for me, please.”
he would be crazy to do anything but, so quickly you ask him and his hands are hoisting both your legs over his shoulders, getting a new, deeper position, it doesn’t take long for you to feel him filling you up, “i can’t live without you, you’re so, so good for me” his lasts broken words before letting himself go.
you don’t move and neither does he, his dick softening inside you, his hands caging you in the table and his head dropped to his chest, both just trying to recover.
“aaron?”
“yes, sweetheart?”
“you can stay.” he looks at you with nothing but love and happiness and gratitude, “but if you screw up again do not try fucking me into forgiving you, i’ll chop your dick off.”
“you like it too much to do that.” his grin is sincere, feeling finally free to joke around you, he gets out of you and you whine at the loss. “see?”
“bite me.”
“gladly.”
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rxzennia · 17 hours
Text
domestic headcanons
– tales of the voracity pathstrider
✎𓂃 ambiguous relationship (oh my god they were roommates); living together; word vomit; incoherent scenarios; ooc aven probably. i offered my exp mats to gepard instead and now i have to grind traces all over again, maybe i should build clara while i’m at it (losing this particular 50/50 has driven me insane istg)
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after aventurine’s endless pestering, you finally agree to move in with him. he’s got a whole block all to himself, so what’s you temporarily claiming a room going to change?
the moment you agree, and by that i mean the very second you agree, he’s going to arrange for people to move your stuff
you just need to move yourself over
he’s not going to let you do any hard labor, that’s what the grunts are for
it’s so quick? like, it only took the morning to have everything packed, moved, and unpacked
when you get to your desk the first thing you do is clutter it up
but there’s so much space? 
you just can’t stack your stuff enough so that it’s snug the way you like 
you try, but all you’ve managed to do is make a paper fortress on one side of your desk
why do the senior managers have so much space?
but you soon realize you didn’t really need to finish building your wall of documents
because your boss sits on your desk whenever he fancies annoying you
so there’s your clutter for the other side
though you still leave a few of your spare scarves there just so it’s not completely empty
a little out of place, but you have nothing else bulky enough
it’s okay, that corner of your desk is often occupied by a certain someone anyway
surprisingly, living with aventurine isn’t unpleasant at all. maybe it’s because you’re almost always within reach now, he’s started bothering you less – instead, he’ll do his work in your office. he has a perfectly good office of his own (arguably comfier too), but he insists on sitting next to you.
frankly, you are tempted to kick him out, but this is his place. you shouldn’t try to kick out your host landlord. and it’s not like he’s actively preventing you from concentrating. you usually leave him be, but you might’ve accidentally gotten used to it – when he’s not around, you feel like something’s missing. just a little bit, though.
he can and will always poke his head over to see what you’re working on
“arranging your meetings, go away.” you push his face back towards his laptop
“hey, leave 6pm to 8pm free!” he whines, as always, he’s trying to get a dinner date(?) with you
“no can do, you’re having dinner with mr diamond.”
he will throw a hissy fit
“why must it always be meal times? i want to eat with you!”
will complain and complain and complain even if you ignore him
you give him a flat “i will be present as well.” 
you’re so bloody infuriating
he stares at you for a whole minute. and then he closes his laptop
you look at him. what is he trying to do now?
“not what i meant.” he gently whacks you over the head with the device, “you and i. dinner. alone. get it?”
normally you stand your ground and make him go through with these meetings
but sometimes you cave and indulge him
this is one of those times
“fine, i’ll push back your meeting with the media department tomorrow.”
you see literal flowers around him as he gets his way
well, not exactly his way, because if he had his way he would be free today
a compromise for tomorrow is good enough, he supposes
he will bring you out to lunch and dinner every day if he could
if only you’d stop telling him you technically don’t need to eat and just go along with it
and if only you’d stop scheduling every. single. important. meeting. during. meal. times.
still, he finds it amusing to read your face whenever you’re in those meetings with him
the only good thing about them, really
because you will have the tiniest furrow in your eyebrows when you eat something you don’t like
and it’ll last until the taste goes away (which is usually the entire meeting)
or you’ll have the most serene expression ever (though it’s more neutral than anything, really) when you find something you like
loves it when you try to not make it obvious that you like a particular dish because you’re not discreet at all
that is all you will eat for the rest of the meeting
you are given your own room, but more often than not you find yourself in aventurine’s room at night.
mostly because he drags you away from your desk – no, scrap that, it’s only because he drags you away from your desk. otherwise you would’ve kept working. or maybe gone and did some combat training. or anything but sleep, really.
you soon realize he likes cuddling you when he sleeps
this is something you’ll never deny him if he asks
in fact, he doesn’t even need to ask nowadays
you show up in his room everyday at around the same time
if he wants a nap in the middle of the day, you’ll also be there
you notice how much more quality rest he gets when you’re by his side
and how much less nightmares bothered him compared to before
(maybe you should try casual sleeping, too?)
whenever you try to slip out of his death grip to get some documents, or to use the bathroom, or for water, he will quietly ask you where you’re going
in a very, very slurred, sleepy way
you will try to explain, and all he’ll tell you as you wrench yourself out of his arms is a quiet “stay”
how are you supposed to go if he says that while letting you go?
good luck if you’re hoping to use the bathroom, most likely you’ll have to hold it in
otherwise, if you need anything else, your scarf-serpent can get it for you
although one time it returned with your documents in its mouth and drool all over it
then you had a rigorous session trying to teach them how to coil around things to pick them up
more like you had to learn, since they’re somewhat sentient extensions of you
on the off chance that you’ll be out for the night, you’ll leave your favorite scarf with him
it’s not as comforting as your person, but it does smell like you and feel like you
he’ll take it as a placeholder until you’re back :(
aventurine hates it when you’re out of office. whether it is to represent him, or to discuss matters with clients before you pass it onto him, he hates it when he’s alone at home.
odd, because he was so used to being on his own, and he was so certain he was going to be alone for the rest of his life.
this man will sit in your office regardless of your presence
your spare scarves keep him company
imagine his surprise when a bunch of faceless noodles slither onto him
he makes the connection very quickly
did not expect that every one of your scarves are mini leviathans
he thought there was only a few, and they move between scarves
a welcome surprise because he knows these huge little guys are friendly
those are the same guys that swallow monsters, so they’re actually not very friendly
but they’re friendly to him because they’re you
one of them will coil into a pile on his lap and rest its head on his thigh
and the others will be all around him
will slobber over him 100%
he will try to pet them, and will realize that they’re really affectionate with him
they will try to eat his hands
but, like, in a not alarming way
hold his hand in their maws but will not bite. only drool
when he pats the one who has his hand, it’ll let go
literally “that’s a weird looking dog” but there's more than ten of them
when you return from your errands, the first thing you see is aventurine dragging a bunch of your snakes along with him as he practically runs to greet you.
you wrap your arms around him as he jumps towards you, and you give him a few spins before setting him down again. 
then you lower your scarf
you’re comfortable enough with him to not cover yourself up anymore
oh how he loves seeing your face, aeons, you have no idea
“guys.” you snap your fingers, and the creatures collapse back into inanimate fabric
you catch all of them, of course, then you open one arm for your boss
the best part (real) 
he snuggles up against your side naturally
you lift him up easily even though both your hands are busy
he’s practically sitting on your forearm as you walk around the house
princess treatment
you’ll cuddle with him properly once you drop off your stuff
“ten minutes,” you tell him, “then i’ll have to get back to work.”
he will throw another hissy fit, like, “why are you busier than i am? i’m the boss!”
you pinch his nose and go: “exactly, mr aventurine” 
instantly droops like a kicked puppy
he doesn’t even try to hide it
absolutely hates it when you’re formal with him in private even if you’re joking
feels like you’re back to square one all over again
“don’t call me that,” aventurine groans as he grabs your hair and tug at it like a toddler.
you glance at him. “displeased?” 
“of course!” he tries to shake your head violently, but damn you and your stupid strength. “what happened to aven?”
you don’t respond 
you’re busy tossing everything onto your chair and praying nothing falls off
he moves on to slapping your face lightly
“hey, hey!” as his hands smack and grab everything that’s touchable on your head
surprisingly, you let him
he might also pull on your scarf
and after a while, he’ll resort to rubbing his cheek against yours
“are you ignoring me…?”
you sit down on the couch and set aventurine in your lap. “impatient, are we?”
“can’t help it,” he doesn’t hesitate to bury himself into your embrace. “i hate when i’m alone…”
“aven…” you pat his back, knowing full well you’re falling for his tricks again. “there, there. should i just call it a day?”
“you would?” he asks, like a child receiving a gift for the first time, “really?”
“really.” you sigh as he tugs you down into spooning him, and you watch him tangle his limbs with yours.
eventually, you pull him closer to you. jeez, there’s just no way you can win against him, is there?
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qveerthe0ry · 1 day
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Your Ride, Best Trip
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Summary: You sleep with your boyfriend Marcus for the first time Word Count: 9,001 Pairing: Marcus Pike x f! afab! reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, first time, vaginal fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected PIV, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, so much fluff, so much kissing Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar as ALWAYS. Love you homies I'm kissing u both <3 A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time
Marcus Pike is perfect. 
He’s your dream man. 
He’s sweet. He brings you flowers just because, and he’s remembered your go-to coffee order, and he never goes to bed without texting you goodnight.
He’s effortlessly kind. He offers to walk your dog for you when you aren’t feeling well enough to get out of bed, and he always does the dishes when you cook for him, and he makes sure his bathroom is stocked with all the personal products you use at your own place. 
He’s fucking handsome. His smile is straight and pearly white, and his big brown eyes warm you up, and the way his broad shoulders fill out those suits he wears to work never fails to make you weak in the knees. 
He’s so smart, and he’s so funny, and he’s all yours… finally. 
See, when he hadn’t so much as kissed you by your third date, you wigged out a bit. 
How could you not? He’d been so thoughtful and caring and all you wanted was to feel those pillowy, soft lips against your own. 
So you asked him what was up, and he told you.
Divorced. Broken engagement. A whole year of therapy to pinpoint what went wrong, what he could change, and how he could do better, how he could feel better. And then, he said, he found you— like fate— when he wasn’t even looking, when he least expected it. 
You had no problem taking it slow. You’re still convinced you’d wait forever for him, as perfect as he is.
After too many little dates to count, he told you he wanted to be your boyfriend, if you’d have him.
You told him you’d love for him to be your boyfriend, of course. You’d be crazy not too. 
And then he finally kissed you.
It was slow and hesitant, but it still made your heart race, made your stomach do flips. He cut it off before it could become anything more than chaste, and left your front door with a sheepish goodnight. 
You’ve kissed a lot since then. You never really enjoyed kissing that much, before. It always just seemed like a means to and end, a formality before moving on to other things. 
But now it’s one of your favorite ways to pass the time with him. Waiting for an Uber to take you downtown, finally getting to his place on Friday after a long work week, cuddling in bed together with an old movie playing.
You haven’t made out with anyone this much since high school. And you enjoy it, you do, but Jesus Christ, he’s been your boyfriend for three weeks now and you need him. 
It doesn’t help that he touches you like you’re the last person on earth. His hands are so big and they’re gentle and electric when they find the bit of skin just under the hem of your shirt. 
You think it’s going to happen, this time. Friday night takeout has long been abandoned in the living room. You’re in his bed, in his clothes, and his pinky is teasing at the waistband of his sweats that you’re wearing. 
His tongue in your mouth is making you dizzy, and there’s no more blood in your brain with all of it rushing between your legs. You whimper, and you arch against him, and you want him so bad but you can’t say it. You’d feel bad, making him rush when he’s made it clear he wants to take things slow. 
When his lips leave yours, you open your eyes, and find his pupils obstructing all the deep, dark brown you adore. 
You have to squeeze your thighs together for a miniscule amount of relief. He notices. Of course he does. Damn that Quantico training. 
“Sweetheart—”
His eyes flicker down to your lips. You’re sure they look obscene, red and slick from nearly an hour of him sucking and nibbling on them. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 
You don’t know why you say it, but you are sorry. You feel so bad for wanting him like this, desperate and aching in his bed, over eager. 
“Don’t be,” he shakes his head and gives you a reluctant smile, a smile that tells you you’re going to fall asleep extremely sexually frustrated. 
But it’s fine. He’s so worth it. 
You give him a soft smile back, and lean in to peck his lips. But he pulls away with his brow furrowed. 
“What do you want?” 
His voice is gentle when he asks. So is his hand on your back, under his shirt you’ve claimed. But it doesn’t stop that fight or flight response from kicking in. 
“Nothing! Nothing, Marcus, I’m okay— I’m great. Just wanna cuddle.” 
But the creases in his forehead don’t smooth out, and his hand ceases the soothing circles across your spine. 
“You’re lying.” 
You sigh and close your eyes. 
“I’m not lying, I’m just— I don’t want to push you to move too fast.” 
You expect him to be angry. But when you open your eyes again, his own have taken on that puppy-like quality you usually love. Right now, it just makes you feel guilty. 
“I’ve been lying, too,” Marcus whispers. 
It’s your turn to scrunch your face up. Your blood runs cold, waiting for him to elaborate. A million scenarios run through your head at lighting speed— all worse and worse until your breathing picks up and you beg him with your eyes to just get on with it—
“I have a small dick.” 
His face is so flushed. He can’t meet your gaze.
He’s staring at the bedsheets between you, and you’re both just silent for a long, awkward moment. 
“I mean— the divorce and all that, it’s all true. And I did want to keep from moving too fast. But— the last few weeks I guess I’ve just been… stalling?” 
He finally looks up from the threads to gauge your reaction. 
“Marcus…”
“I get it, okay? If you wanna go. I know I lied, and you didn’t sign up for—“
“Marcus.”
You watch his shoulders raise and his mouth snap shut, and he looks terrified.
“I don’t want to leave. You didn’t lie. It’s just— you really think that would bother me?” 
He lets out a big breath, and the tension in his body eases up a little. 
“I don’t know. Most people were… bothered. I guess,” he shrugs. 
You cradle his jaw in your hand, let the day-old stubble tickle the pad of your thumb as you think about how to best navigate this conversation. 
Because saying ‘I don’t care’ seems too dismissive. But you don’t. You couldn’t possibly care less about what’s in his pants, when everything else about him has made you fall so, so deep already. But you don’t want to make it sound like it’s something you have to even bargain with, like the pros outweigh the cons, like it even is a con. Because it’s not. 
“I’m not bothered,” you finally tell him. 
He still doesn’t meet your eyes, in fact, he rolls his. 
“You don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay, I’ve heard it all. I know I’ve lead you on—”
“Jesus,” you cut him off, “what did— who made you feel this way?” 
He finally looks at you. His eyes are wide and he looks vulnerable and hesitant. You swipe away some hair that’s fallen flat across his scrunched forehead. 
“Everyone?” 
You sigh his name, and you’re tentative when you lean forward to kiss him, softly, when he lets you. 
He looks less terrified when you pull back. You try to smile, but this whole interaction has left such a bad taste in your mouth that it feels more like a grimace when your lips turn up. 
“That’s— Fucking awful, to be frank. Pardon my French.”
He chuckles, but his gaze falls away from your face again. His sheets are not that interesting to look at. 
“Really, Marcus. I mean— maybe if someone’s just looking for a hookup, then I get it. You want something specific, whatever. But why would you ever think you were leading me on?
All you’ve done is be sweet to me, and shown interest in me, and taken care of me. Unless you’re like, secretly an ax murderer, or committing some kind of major tax fraud, you haven’t led me on at all.”
He’s still not looking at you. Why won’t he look at you, and believe you? 
“I don’t want to sound dismissive. I understand you’re insecure about it. I’m insecure about some things too. I don’t want to invalidate that. But I need you to know that the last thing I care about is how big your dick is.” 
There. He’s looking at you. He looks a little mortified, but he’s finally meeting your gaze. 
“Really?”
You scoff. 
“Really really.”
A reluctant smile tugs on the corner of his pretty mouth. 
“Why?”
“Because— now, don’t go getting a big head about this— you’re perfect. Like, everything about you. You’re sweet and you make me laugh and you’re gorgeous.”
His face flushes, but he lets you continue.
“And I’m in this, with you. I want this to go somewhere. And I think we’re super compatible.”
“Me too,” he whispers.
“Good, so… we’re on the same page then.”
You watch him lick his lips, and his hand that’s been loosely draped over your waist finally starts back up, drawing little circles across the base of your spine. 
“And… There’s other reasons,” you mumble, voice low with a hint of mischief.
“Oh yeah?” 
“Yeah… For one, your hands.”
“My hands?”
He emphasizes his question with a squeeze of your hip, and you giggle at the way it tickles, and also with a bit of embarrassment. 
“Yeah… They’re uh… big. I look at them a lot. Honestly surprised you haven’t noticed.”
He huffs, lets his big hand travel further up the shirt on your back. 
“Your nails are always trimmed, and— your fingers are long and thick. I’ve thought about them a lot.”
He breathes your name, and now you realize you’re the one avoiding eye contact. When you look back, his pupils are all blown out again, and it spurs you on.
“And I love to give head.”
“Jesus.”
“And the bigger it is, the quicker I get tired. I could stay down there all night, if my jaw didn’t get sore.” 
“Sweetheart—”
“Really, it’s one of my favorite things, making someone fall apart under my mouth. But I hate gagging and choking my way through it. It’s tedious.”
He says your name again, this time with a warning tone. 
You bite your lip to keep anything from tumbling from your mouth unwarranted. 
“You’re not lying.”
His eyes dart back and forth across your face, and you shake your head in lieu of opening your mouth again. 
“Fuck.”
It’s the first time Marcus has cursed in front of you. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and your clit throbs. 
“I’ve thought about you so much. Your lips, you have to know, right? How plump and full they are… I think about them at night, when I’m touching myself.” 
That’s convincing enough, apparently. Before you can embarrass yourself any further with your confessions, he surges forward to press those plush lips against yours and groans into your mouth. 
His hand flattens against your back and pulls, manhandling you closer to him. Your fingers find his silky hair and tangle in the strands, holding on for dear life at this shift between the two of you. 
You can’t muster up an ounce of shame. Finally, you have Marcus where you want him, pressed against you. You hike a leg over one of his, getting it between your thighs for even the smallest amount of friction. 
You feel him gasp, chest inflating to press even closer against yours. It’s a rush, finally getting this after waiting so long. 
Your hands scramble to get under his white t-shirt. His skin is hot, even against your sweaty palms. There’s so much to feel, the slight swell of his stomach, and the muscle of his flank, the soft but firm pecs. 
You whine when he pulls away from your lips. He shushes you gently, and you open your eyes to watch his slick lips and his hooded eyes and flushed face disappear briefly, just quick enough to shed his shirt. 
Smooth, is the first thing that comes to mind. His tan skin has no hair above his belly button, just the errant freckle here and there. His nipples are peaked, and you reach out to press your thumb against one before your mind catches up to the action, before you realize you’re gawking. 
But when your hand stutters against his skin and you look up at him, he’s smirking, amused and turned on. You falter a bit, mouth open while you search for something to say, some sort of excuse as to why you’re devouring him like you’re starved. 
He saves you though, with his low, grumbled voice. 
“I think about you, too. All the time.” 
You dig your nails into his soft skin at his admission, scraping against his chest. 
“You know that? You think I haven’t had you a million different ways in my head?” 
Your heart stops beating, and you stop breathing, and the heat between your legs only gets heavier and wetter. 
“You want me to show you, sweetheart?”
Your heartbeat comes back as a rush in your ears, and you squeeze the meat of his pec as you nod. 
He kisses you again, licks at your lips until you suck his tongue into your mouth, and now it’s just filthy. No more pretense, it’s been months of pretense, and neither of you have any more patience. 
His fingers seek out your own nipple, a tight bud protruding through cloth, and he rolls it between his fingers gently over the material of his shirt. 
“You come over and wear my clothes like this, and you think you don’t drive me crazy?” 
The words are grumbled into your mouth, against your cheek, then your jaw and your neck as he seeks out more of you to kiss. 
“I don’t wash them when you leave. I wear them and I smell you all day and it makes me feel insane.”
You mewl at his admission. Everything he says now is so fucking raw, now that you’ve broken down his walls. He shushes you again, grabs the hem of his shirt to help you pull it over your head. 
He curses when he sees you. It’s the first time. You’ve both been toeing this line of modesty, and maybe you’d be more nervous if you weren’t careening toward the pleasure he’s promised you. 
He coaxes you to lie on your back beside him, and his mouth works a slow trail down the side of your neck, nipping and suckling until he finally gets your nipple in his mouth. You arch into it, encouraging him with a hand tangled in his thick hair. You feel his groan reverberating around your rib cage when you scrape your nails back and forth across his scalp. You need him, like nothing you’ve ever craved before. 
“Marcus—”
“I know, I know.”
His syrupy voice isn’t as soothing as his lips, though, when he cranes his neck back up to kiss you again. He nips there, a sneaky distraction from the way his fingers trail down to circle your navel, and then even farther, teasing the hem of his sweatpants you’re wearing. His featherlight touch makes you jolt when it finally registers, your stomach jumping under his fingers. 
“Can I?”
You’re nodding against his lips, into the kiss, and then whining when his hand breaches the waistband. Those thick, long fingers flutter across your mound. Your breath catches on every wiggle. But when his fingers splay out, half on one side of your slit and half on the other, teasing your lips, you exhale hard and press up into his touch. 
“Oh, are you that sensitive?”
His voice is half-teasing, half-shocked, as he mumbles into the tingling skin of your neck. 
“It’s just you.” 
And it’s true. There’s no ego-stroking here. You’ve waited too long to get this and now you’re fiending, any touch is a relief. 
And he’s huffing into that skin under your ear, like you’re playing it up too much, but he bites down on the skin anyway and groans. 
“So sweet, huh?”
You make a disgruntled noise but there’s not enough blood in your brain to get your point across. Instead, you wrap your hand around his meaty forearm and force his fingers lower, where you know your underwear is a soaking, sticky mess. 
He curses and pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. You’re certain you know what he sees, blown out pupils and sweat-slick forehead and bitten, shiny lips. 
“That’s all for me?” 
There’s a sly smile tugging at one side of his mouth, just barely there, but you see it in the way one dimple grows more than the other. You nod in answer, scrape your nails up the hair on his arm and watch him shudder.
But he retreats from between your legs, and chuckles when you squeeze his forearm tighter in protest. The sound makes you shiver, all low and gruff and teasing. But he softens the blow with another one of his kisses, heated and sloppy and needy. His hands, always so gentle and careful and big, find the creases between your hips and thighs. It makes you arch up into the touch and whimper again, and you wonder briefly if you’ll ever not be desperate for him again. 
He watches your face twist up when he pulls away from you, watches the way your breasts move with every heave of your lungs. His dark eyes travel lower, where his thumbs sear circles into your hips, and his tongue swipes across his lower lip. 
“Can I take these off, sweetheart?” 
The tenderness in his voice fills you with a completely different warmth, white hot flames simmering into a blaze of feelings you aren’t sure you’ve ever truly experienced before. You let it consume you. 
“Yes, please.”
He hums a satisfied little noise as his fingers hook under the waistband. He takes his time, making sure to catch your underwear as well. It’s a sight, his huge hands working your only remaining cover down, down, until you’re bare to him and he’s gently cradling each of your calves to fully remove the last of your clothes. 
Those hands work their way back up, attentive, memorizing the valleys and peaks of your flesh, the nuances of your skin, the way it bends over your joints. Before you know it, he’s propped himself up beside you once again, one arm supporting his weight so his other hand can work its way between your thighs. 
You drag your eyes away from his fingers to look at him, only to find him focused on your face. 
It’s a few long moments before either of you move or speak or breathe. It’s you who breaks the spell, only because you know you’re at the very edge of control. 
“You sure you’re ready?”
You reach up to cradle his neck in your hand. It’s hot to the touch, and so are his ears, the tips of them burning a cute pink where your thumb grazes them. His eyes get softer and crinkle even more around the edges.
“I’m positive… can’t believe I psyched myself out for so long.”
He huffs and shakes his head at himself. You’re ready to kiss that apprehension away again, but his hand on your thigh pulls, as gentle as everything else he’s done, to spread yourself open for him. 
The cool air makes your breath catch in your throat. Or maybe it’s the anticipation. So close to what you’ve thought about every single night for weeks. Months– since the day you first met, if you’re being honest. 
He keeps his eyes on you, and you hold his gaze even though it burns. But only until his fingers brush you. Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling, mouth open wide in shock at how electric just one simple touch feels. 
His finger glides so easily around your opening, and you hear him gasp as he explores all the slick.
“You’re soaked.” 
His voice is thick with awe, as another finger joins in on the fun, gathering up your arousal. But they don’t breach, and you feel like he’s teasing, readying a whine in protest. 
The noise gets stuck in your throat when they trail up, gliding through your swollen folds. They find your clit, full and begging for attention, and circle with hardly any pressure. 
Oh, he’s fucking good at this. 
There’s no apprehension in his movements. It’s like he’s read a fucking manual on how to press all your buttons. The light, slick touches are building up that heat in your gut quicker than you can ever remember with anyone else. 
You’re stunned silent, eyes pinched shut and your head tilted back into the mattress, digging in for even an ounce of grounding. 
“That feel good, sweetheart?”
Your vocal chords come back to life, finally, as you whimper from the gentle drag of his fingers. 
“You have no idea.”
He chuckles, and you open your eyes to see his own still trained on your face. 
“I think I do,” he mumbles.
He shifts, presses his hips into you, and the hard line of him digs into your side. 
You clench around nothing, and your clit pulses under the pads of his fingers. He curses and responds to the needy little bud, applying more pressure and speeding up those little circles. 
All the while he grinds his hips into you, soft little movements that sync up with his hand, and you want him so bad. You’re losing patience by the second, the only thing keeping you from pouncing is the way his fingers work you over so perfectly it’s like you’re touching yourself. 
You’re not, though, and that becomes perfectly clear when one thick, long finger presses lower and slips into you. It slides so easily, despite how much girth it has on one of your own. You both make stuttered noises at the feeling, and Marcus’ lips capture your own to let them mingle together. 
Your hips egg him on, lifting and shifting, but he is teasing now. It’s a slow drag in and out, his finger pin straight, and if he hadn’t been so diligent this entire time you’d think he didn’t know what he was doing. 
But you whine, a soft plea of his name into his mouth, and he obliges. That thick finger crooks up, just as the heel of his hand flattens against your clit, and stars bloom behind your eyelids. 
You groan, and he laps it up before his lips leave yours. 
“That’s it. This what you needed?”
A pathetic whimper comes out in response as you nod your head. His finger presses harder into that perfect spot, and his palm slides over your wet clit. You’re clenching around him, savoring the feeling of being filled by him, working your hips down and back to meet his motions. It grows and grows, that feeling in your gut, so close that you can’t be bothered to worry about what needy noises you’re making.
He mutters another frantic curse, and his hips jump to press his cock into you harder. 
“I gotta taste you, sweetheart. Can I? Will you let me?” 
You nod so fast you’re surprised your head doesn’t detach from your neck. He soothes that frenzied part of your brain with another kiss, slips his finger out of you, and moves to get between your legs. 
You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him still, even if it’s just for a moment. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and the drag of his sweatpants across your sensitive center makes you arch up into him for more, to seek out more friction. 
He just huffs a laugh against your lips and angles his hips away, denying you the simple pleasure of grinding against the tent in his pants. 
“Not yet. Let me take my time with you. You’ve waited so long, right? I’ll make it up to you, you just gotta let me.” 
You huff. 
You should’ve known Marcus would be just as much of an infuriating tease in the bedroom as he is outside of it. The trivia dates and the cocky smirk he always sported when he won, the little bets he’d make on how a movie’s plot was going to twist, the refusal to ever let you pay for dinner— it’s all adding up now, and you can’t believe you didn’t expect it. 
Marcus Pike is a smug little prick underneath the humble, sheepish grins, and it’s hot and it’s yours. 
“Put your money where your mouth is,” you breathe. 
He chuckles and trails said mouth down the length of your naked body. You watch his plump lips explore your skin and leave wet patches littered in their wake, shiny little stakes claiming you. His five o’clock shadow is just long enough to abrade your skin a bit, delightful little pricks that make your muscles jump involuntarily.
He makes it to your mound before looking up at you. His brown eyes are mostly obstructed by his pupils, but they shine all glassy in the dim lamplight of his bedroom. His shitty grin has faded and he looks determined, and it steals the breath from your lungs. 
He teases some more, of course he does. His lips peck and tickle the creases of your thighs, the skin of your outer lips, and the very tip of your hood before you finally see his pink tongue slip out. 
All of a sudden you can’t watch, can only let your head fall back and close your eyes and drown in the anticipation. 
The pointed tip of his tongue just barely grazes you, tracing a razor-thin line from your dripping hole all the way to your mound. It tickles, and your breath comes in faster as he does it again, and again, and again. 
Just before you can beg for more, he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit. He laps at your folds, slow and calculated, and the satisfied noises tumble out of you as you feel his taste buds glide against you. 
All you can think to do is find his hair and use it to hang on. Your legs spread wider, and he takes the encouragement. His tongue finds your clit, so swollen and sensitive with need by now. He circles it, then wiggles his tongue back and forth, playing with it, playing with you. He shakes his head from side to side to give you more, presses even more firmly, and the heavy feeling in your gut tightens tenfold. 
Your hips start to move on their own, rocking up into his face, helping his motions along. He groans with it, muffled and wet between your legs. 
A delirious thought gets stuck in your horny brain. You don’t know how you’ll ever let him leave this spot between your legs now that you’ve finally got him here. It’s so wet and warm and incredible, and your nails dig into his scalp to drive the point home, to try and lock him here forever. 
His voice snaps you from your reverent thoughts, thick and deep. 
“Fuck, sweetheart. You taste so good, looks so fucking pretty.” 
You brave a glance down at him, his red soaked mouth and his dark eyes that are boring holes into your pussy. One of his hands releases its grip on your thigh to glide across the dripping mess of your center. He toys with you, spreading you open with splayed fingers, watching the way your folds bend to his whim. With it exposed and protruding and aching for his touch, he leans down to wrap his plush lips around your clit and suckle. Curses fly from your lips at the concentrated attention, and it’s so so so fucking good you’re sure you’re going combust. 
His hand slips lower, and his mouth doesn’t stop, and you’re dangerously close to tipping over the edge. And then two thick fingers slip easily into you, immediately seeking out that spot inside you and tapping there. 
It’s blinding pressure overwhelming the two places you need him most. He drums up a rhythm that would remind you of a dance, maybe, if your brain were cognitive enough to form a coherent thought. Down with his head, engulfing your clit, and up with his fingers, squeezing that spongy spot inside you. Over and over, he works you with soft grunts against your cunt until your fingers lock up in his hair and your hips start to shake. 
“Please don’t stop,” you pant, “I’m so close.” 
To his credit, and this is more than you can say for the majority of men you’ve been with, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, nor does he speed up. He keeps at you exactly how you need it, moaning strung-out little noises into your center until you’re dropping. 
All the wind is knocked out of you. Your hips jolt into his face and he takes it in stride, lapping at your clit when the seal of his lips is broken from your erratic movements. You tremble through it, clench around his fingers, and squeeze his head between your thighs as you ride it out on his tongue. 
As the shivers roll through you, Marcus’ fingers slow, and though he can’t remove his tongue from you because of how your legs have him in a headlock, he stills his tongue so you can take the last bit of what you need from him. 
His breathing is just as heavy as yours, wheezing out moans and muffled words of encouragement. When you feel yourself slipping down from your peak, you let go of the death grip on his hair, and open your legs, and grant yourself a few deep breaths before you dare to look down at him. 
He carefully, cautiously pulls his fingers out of you. A comforting ‘shhh’ is cooed into the sweaty skin of your thigh when you make a strangled sound. Both of his hands splay out on either hip, a light and grounding touch accompanied by the kisses he’s dropping all over the skin he can reach. 
Finally, you grant yourself a peek down at him. The first thing you notice is how his broad shoulders are, heaving with baited breath. Then, his normally pristine hair, sticking out every which way and then some from your frantic fingers. 
His face is red, you guess from exertion. Or maybe you really did restrict some blood flow. Christ. That’s what he gets, being so goddamn good at that. 
And then his lips. His lips. Those lips that up until now you’ve only ever kissed or dreamed of. They’re even more plump, swollen and slick with you, shining just like his chin is. 
You don’t know what to say. You know you want to kiss him. Funny, considering that’s how all this started, but you’re dying to see what you taste like on him. 
Luckily, he breaks the silence, after licking those delectable lips and clearing his throat. 
“So… How’d it compare?” 
Your face contorts on its own, surprised at the sudden and intrusive question. 
“Pardon?”
But then he laughs, pressing those wet dimples into your heated skin to hide them. 
“To all those thoughts you told me about. How’d I do?” 
You laugh too then, a weary huff of breath as you sit up. 
“Don’t go fishing for compliments,” you tease, though there’s not much heat behind it with how out of breath you still are. 
He goes to respond, but you get a hand in his hair again and coax him up. You meet him halfway, swallowing his surprised noise when you finally get those pillowy lips against yours and lick at them, his tongue, his teeth, until you aren’t sure what taste is you and what is him. Until you realize you’re flat on your back again as he hovers over you, still between your thighs. 
You both hum when the kiss breaks, and you rest your forehead against his, nuzzle his nose and sigh at the floaty feeling in your limbs. 
“Better,” you whisper. 
You feel his grin bump into your own. You nip at it, playful and languid as you finally begin to get some of your bearings back. 
And then you’re shocked back into the realization that there’s all this smooth skin right in front of you, this hunk of a man hovering above, the one who just melted your brain into a fuzzy little mold of itself. You grab his hips as he licks into your mouth and scrape your nails up his flanks, unhurried, while the touch makes him shiver. 
You feel out the strength in his pecs, those broad shoulders you often daydream about, and then you push. Catching him off guard, he gasps as he loses his balance and tumbles to the side, and then laughs when you press him into the mattress and straddle his hips. 
You laugh along with him, but it slowly tapers off as his hands find your naked skin— your stomach and hips and back and then your ass, where it hovers just above that bulge in his sweatpants. 
He’s looking up at you with what you can only describe as horny apprehension. 
His eyelids droop over his dilated pupils, but his brow is all pinched up in the middle. His mouth hangs open, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. 
So you kiss him, soft and gentle, as gentle as he’s been with you all night. His sigh washes heat across your cheeks, and you feel him relax under you just a little. 
But then you shift in his grasp, lower your ass, and press your soaking center to his crotch. You whimper at the feeling of his sweatpants dragging across your sensitive, wet cunt. He moans and bites at your bottom lip maybe a little too hard. 
But it’s okay. He pulls away and pants your name and you settle there, your weight pressed down on his cock. Your lips find that smooth patch in his stubble, biting that chiseled jaw, licking down the curve of his neck, his shoulder, up to his ear. You delight in every goosebump you draw, and breathe in his scent before you speak up. 
“Will you let me suck it?” 
All his breath rushes out in a big gust. His fingertips dig into your naked sides, and he nods. 
“Please.” 
It’s a barely-there whisper. You pull away from that silky soft skin where his pulse is hammering to check his reaction. 
He’s begging with his eyes. It makes you smirk, sitting up straighter, trailing your fingers down the front of his body until you reach the drawstring of his sweatpants. 
You’re still sitting on his groin, though. You give a little playful wiggle, and his hips rock up to grind harder. But you don’t want to tease any more. Every moment spent teasing him, you’re also denying yourself, and you’ve been patient for long enough. 
So you shift down the bed, nestled between his legs, and get to work on the tie of his pants. Every time your fingertips brush the hair below his belly button, he sucks in a breath. You finally get the thing untied, and look up one last time for permission before you start to drag the material down, grabbing his boxers as you go. 
Your eyes stay trained on his face instead of staring at his crotch, especially as he wiggles a bit and lifts his legs to remove his pants. You don’t want to stare, and you also don’t want to not look, you don’t want him to be uncomfortable at all with you. 
You want it to be perfect. You want to make him feel the way he makes you feel. 
He nods his head, and you cease averting your eyes to trail down his body, the bushy happy trail and the neatly trimmed hair above his cock and his cock. 
His little cock. 
It is, indeed, on the smaller side. Probably one of the smallest you’ve seen in real life. Three and half or four inches long, if you had to guess. 
And it’s so pretty, cut and on the thicker side, the slightest upward curve that makes your pussy tighten around nothing. 
You dive right in, press your nose to all the hair while you kiss at the base of him, humming when his cock twitches against the side of your face. He smells so good and clean, like always, but down here there’s even more of that Marcus smell that always lingers beneath his soap and cologne, salty and warm.
When you drag your eyes up to him, his head’s thrown back against the pillows, not looking at you. You want him to look, you want him to see how much you’re going to enjoy this. 
You’ll make him look, one way or another. 
For now, you just lathe your tongue up the underside of him, then back down to tickle his balls, all the while enjoying how his prick jerks under the attention. 
He’s making little noises, mostly puffs of breath and gasps, and his hands twist up in the sheets beside you. You grab one of them, slow and steady, and lead it to the back of your head. 
And then, you finally get your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, and you slowly sink down until he’s entirely in your mouth. 
It’s not until your nose presses against the flatness above his cock do you hear him release a strangled groan. That’s when you look back up at him and find him staring down, mouth agape, locked on your mouthful of him. 
You pull back up, wiggling your tongue as you go, memorizing the ridges and hairs and veins. Your eyes are locked on his, and his are locked on your lips, so you try to give him a show. 
You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, nod your head up and down to let his cockhead tickle your tastebuds. A gruff noise leaves him, hearty and hoarse, and you want to smile but you’re not in a position to. 
Instead, you flick your tongue against that little band of tissue just under his slit, and his hips stutter as his grip on the back of your head tightens. 
“Fuck, sweetheart.”
Now you do smile, your lips upturned against the head of his cock, and it jerks against your mouth while you kiss it, until you envelop it once more. 
You hum around him, at the weighted feeling of him occupying your mouth, how smooth it feels against your tongue and how nice it is to take him all the way in and not gag or choke or drool. 
It makes your cunt ache, makes you crave him even more, makes you want to be full of him everywhere. 
You reach a hand down to touch yourself. You’re still dripping, can feel it all slipping from your entrance and cooling your skin in the air conditioning. You’ve had just enough time to recover from the mess Marcus made of you. You’re sensitive but not too sensitive, when you trace your clit with your fingertips and moan around the mouthful of cock. 
“Oh fuck, are you touching yourself?”
Your eyes flicker open and look up to him. He’s clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth as his nostrils flare. You hum and nod your head to answer, his cock slipping back and forth through the ring of your lips. He whimpers, and his head tips back against the mattress again, and it makes you speed up the efforts on both him and yourself. 
He curses, soft little chants, kneading the back of your neck in his big hand as you suck him in over and over. You close your eyes and lose yourself in it for a bit, the way he slips so easily in and out, the way his hips move just a little, like he’s trying not to but he can’t help it. The sounds, his grunts and your sloppy mouth and your fingers working over your slick folds. 
He says your name. 
You hum, use your free hand to play with the fuzzy skin of his balls. 
He says your name again, and this time it’s urgent, almost panicked. 
“Sweetheart, stop, please.”
You do, immediately. You open your mouth wide and let him fall from your lips and unhand him while you look at his exerted face. 
“Are you okay?”
He huffs, and his cock bobs beside your face. 
“I’m so okay. I just— did you want me to…? It’s okay if you don’t, I just didn’t want it to be over—”
“Marcus.” 
His heated babbling stops as he clamps his mouth shut. His broad shoulders lift and drop with his heading breath.
“Do you want to fuck me?” 
You smooth your hands across the scattered hair on his thighs when you ask. His prick twitches again at your question. 
“I— Yeah. Yes. I do.”
He looks almost guilty about it, with his wide eyes and the bashful expression spreading across his face. 
“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you tell him, “I’ve wanted it for way too long.”
His breath leaves him in a shuddery exhale, something like relief or awe. 
“Yeah? You still want it?” 
His hand skates from the back of your neck to your jaw, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek. 
“Please, Marcus. Give it to me.” 
You turn your head to kiss his thumb, a sloppy little peck before you take it into your mouth. You smile around it when he groans, and bite it before it slips away. 
“Can you get on the edge of the bed for me?” 
You can, but not without throwing a cheeky ‘yes sir’ his way. You’re not sure if the noise he makes is from arousal or a lack of  amusement, but there will be plenty of time to explore that later. 
For now, you do as he says. You scoot so your ass is just about to fall off the side of his bed. The wooden bed frame is the perfect height to rest your heels on, and as Marcus slips a pillow under your head, you’re as comfortable as ever.
The mattress dips when he gets up to stand in front of you. The lamplight from the nightstand is really doing things for him. The slight sheen of sweat on his chest glistens, as does the wetness at his temples where his hair is starting to curl up. All those lean muscles have never been more apparent than they are now, the golden glow creating beautiful shadows across his naked body. 
He’s so hot. 
It doesn’t help that his big, warm hands snake up your bare thighs as he gets between them. His small dick stands at attention, pointing toward the ceiling, and you feel your pussy spasm with anticipation. 
“Please,” you whisper. 
He nods, steps closer as you spread your legs wider and wiggle even further off the bed. 
“Perfect, sweetheart.”
He leans over you with one hand on the bed to brace himself. The other is wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and he looks down to watch it as he glides it through your slit. 
“Are you ready?”
You nod and hum your affirmative. He takes the go-ahead and his cockhead slides across your clit, down, so slowly, until it catches on the rim of your hole and you both gasp at the feeling. 
You look down to watch too, lifting up on your elbows to see the moment your pussy lets him sink inside, fluttering around him, engulfing his prick one inch at a time. 
You knew it. You fucking knew his cock was perfect but still you’re shocked at the way the curve makes him drag across your upper wall. And when his hips are flush with yours, all that pressure is concentrated at that bundle of nerve endings inside of you, and you’re going to lose your mind if he doesn’t move.
“Oh fuck.”
You let yourself flop back in the bed, but reach for his hand that’s supporting his weight. Your nails scrabble for purchase against the skin of his wrist as you curse again, your walls contracting around him as you tense. 
“Fuck, Marcus, please.”
You’re so far past caring about how desperate you sound. You need him, the textbook definition of it; it’s an absolute necessity that he fucks you. 
He curses, and you realize you’ve closed your eyes. When you open them, his jaw is hanging and he’s looking at you, your face, like it’s something he’s never seen before. Like he’s shocked you’re here in front of him. 
But his hips are still, and you’re helpless to the way your own cant up to urge him, and finally he’s pulling back out. The slow drag against the most tender spot inside you rips a noise from your throat, involuntary. He pulls almost all the way out, until the head of his dick is kissing your opening and you can feel how he stretches the tight ring of muscles. 
And then in again, almost as slowly, and you’re already out of breath. The feeling steals all the wind from your lungs. It’s setting you on fire, perfect friction against just the right spot, the one that’s still tender and alight from your previous orgasm. 
“It’s so fucking good,” you manage to choke out. 
Marcus moans above you, and his hips snap into you, and his free hand finds your waist so he can dig his nails into your flesh. 
“It is, fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking good.”
A bead of sweat drips from his nose and lands on your belly, and that seems to make you snap out of it. 
“Fuck me. Fuck me hard, please, make me come.”
You watch his mouth quirk up into a pretty smirk, dimples on full display. 
“Yes ma’am.”
Your giggles only last for a moment, dissolving into a high whine when he slides out of you and back in, a harsh thrust of his hips that doesn’t let up. 
He fucks you. You try to watch; it’s too hot not to. His biceps flex respectively, one with his effort to hold himself above you, and the other where he holds you in place by your waist. 
His neck, the one vein there that’s protruding as he bares his teeth. The way his chest is rapidly rising and falling as he drives into you. His big brown eyes, even darker now as he succumbs to the feeling of you. 
But you just can’t keep your eyes open for long. It feels too good, you’re too close to the edge. Your insides are so tender and alight from the first time you came. Every single thrust inside you is taking you apart and building your second so quickly. Your eyelids droop closed and there’s already stars blooming behind them. 
His little noises are louder, like this. Grunts and gasps and moans, falling over you, all for you. 
“Fuck, I’m so close,” you warn him.
Your back arches to encourage his pace. His skin slaps into yours faster as he groans.
“Thank god, me too. What do you need, sweetheart?” 
Without a verbal answer to his strained question, you slip your hand down to press against your throbbing clit. 
“Shit, yeah, play with your pussy for me. I wanna— fuck— let me see you come. Looks so gorgeous.”
His voice is thick in his throat, and you work your fingers over yourself faster. You’re clenching wildly around him, you can’t help it. Every thrust in sets your nerves on fire, almost too much, but not quite. His grunts are turning into growls, uninhibited and primal. You feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to find him standing up straight. 
Both hands grab your hips now, and that little angle change makes him grind even harder into your g-spot, and you’re tumbling over the edge. It’s been building under the surface for so long that when it hits, it’s blinding. There’s static in your toes that washes over you, up, up, dragging a fiery heat with it that consumes your center and makes your head fuzzy. 
There’s screaming. 
You’re screaming. Your eyes are clenched so tight, as are your fingers, all your joints, your pussy, around Marcus as he fucks you through it with sloppy thrusts. 
“That’s it, oh my god, sweetheart, you— fuck. I’m gonna come, I’m— where?”
“In me.”
Your throat is scratchy when you answer, and you don’t have any time to elaborate on why that’s not a bad idea. You’re still coming, wave after wave of warmth rolling across your body, and you’re vaguely aware of how wet everything is, the sound of him fucking you even more obscene. 
His shout doesn’t quite rival yours, but you feel it when he empties inside of you. His cock jerks and and twitches, wringing out every little bit of pleasure from you, and you think you’re still coming, the pinpricks of pleasure are still too intense to be aftershocks. 
He stays pressed as deep as he can be as his stomach convulses and his thighs shake, just like yours do where they’ve somehow wrapped around him. Your eyes open again, and the lamplight is so bright now, his breathing is so loud. He grunts and pulls out a bit, then presses back in, and again, until it falters and his whole body slumps. 
His top half collapses onto you, his little breaths huff and tickle the tingling skin of your belly. Your own breath comes out in a weak moan, and it takes all the strength you can muster just to run your fingers through his sweaty hair. 
“Jesus,” he says.
Your name cascading off his lips in such a strung out voice that it makes you clench around him again. 
“Huh?” 
God, how are you ever going to move again? 
“You uh… Is that a common occurrence?”
Christ, why is he using such big words? 
“What are you talking about?” 
He clears his throat. 
“You like— You squirted?”
You laugh, one delirious huff. It makes his head rock on your jiggling belly. 
“I what?”
You gather the will to look down at him. His mouth is open, surprised and amused, and his eyes are shiny and bright. 
“Yeah, like, a lot.”
He’s still inside you but softening, and his own chuckles make him slip out. 
You lift up on your elbows as he stands up straight and the evidence is clear. The hair above his dick and high on his thighs is all dark and soaked. 
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”
The sheets on the edge of the bed are absolutely ruined, and you pray he’s one of those men that has a mattress protector. You’re more than a little mortified, and the way he’s staring at you, silent, is beginning to make you squirmy.
“What?” 
“Why do you seem so surprised?”
His fingertips are feather-light across your thighs, and you shiver. 
“I’ve never actually… done that? I would have warned you.”
He makes a pained sound, and those fingertips turn into a tight grip just above your knees. 
He doesn’t speak up. Instead, he lies on the bed beside you. He holds himself by his elbow, but that hand strokes your scalp while the other traces up and down your thigh, your hips, your breasts, anything he can reach. You avoid the topic at hand to relax into it, and you think you’re finally coming down as that boneless feeling washes over you. 
You’re vaguely aware of his cum dripping out of you, but the sheets are a lost cause anyway. You just watch his lax face, the way the wrinkles in his brow are all smoothed out, the way his eyes follow the patterns he’s drawing on your body. 
He catches you staring. His gaze meets yours and he smiles and it’s sunny. It warms you through, despite all the sweat that’s cooling on your body. 
“Hi,” he whispers. 
You giggle, and he does too. He tries to hold it in by biting his lip, but it’s no use. You will your exhausted bones to shift and face him, and he presses his lips to yours and they meld together.
It’s languid, unhurried, just reacquainting after too long apart. It feels a little goofy, with how you’re both smiling so wide, but it calms you into settling down after such a high. 
Both of your breathing seems even, when you part. 
“That was—”
“It’s never—”
You both chuckle. 
“Ladies first.”
You feel shy now. You can’t imagine why, but a fluttery feeling overtakes your stomach. 
“I was just gonna say… That was better than all those times I imagined it.”
You didn’t think it was possible, but his smile grows even wider. His eyes flicker from yours to the sheets between you, and you think maybe he feels as bashful as you do. 
“It’s never been that good.”
A sigh escapes him when he speaks, and his nervous gaze lands on you when his face falls into something more earnest. 
It takes your breath away. Because it’s never been that good for you either, and isn’t that such a perfect coincidence?
You tug him to you by the back of his neck, eat up the surprised little sound he makes against your mouth. 
“When can we go again?”
254 notes · View notes
minsh0e · 3 days
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mini astrology observations 2/?
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hi hi ! i am back with another mini astrology observations. I want to thank you all for such an amazing reaction to my “work”, and for all your positive/negative comments that you left for me. these opinions make me realize a lot and will definitely make me grow further in the future… before you move on to the reading, i want to say, that I am not a professional, so take everything lightly. as always, have fun reading <3
p.s. - photos are mine :)
...
☆ people with empty 1st house may lack life guidance or be less aggressive while voicing their opinions. on the contrary though, they might judge people based on their personality and manners, not appearance or first impressions.
☆ libra risings literally don’t have to wear makeup as they look/feel better without it
☆ in my first/last observations, i talked about the mars and/trine venus synastry and how it can be the first thing that pulls you in. in this case, mars represents the man and venus represents the woman. last time, i talked about how i got attracted to the men, who have mars in the same element as my venus but i haven´t mentioned, that all of them had virgo mars...
i have a theory of mine (that i observed on me and others) in which venus mostly gets attracted to the mars sign of same element that is positioned clockwise (e.g. scorpio -> cancer) and mars mostly gets attracted to the venus that is positioned anti-clockwise (cancer -> scorpio)…i have, however, observed this on people who are attracted to the opposite gender not the same gender, therefore, i can’t really tell you nothing about how this works for homosexuals.
-> please let me know what you think about this/what are your experiences if you have time :)
☆ this is a very random observation that you can skip if you want to…our dog it considered to be beautiful by most of the people we met/meet. he has shiny, colorful fur, symmetrical face and body color placements. i decided to check out his natal chart for fun and found out, that he has libra venus in 5th house…interpret this as you want, but i guess, that you can really apply astrology to anything :)
☆ people with sagittarius mars are the ones, who love the sports/movement the most. they are amazing at doing anything physical, so you can literally see them being great at any sport…even if they do it for the first time. they may be interested in a lot different kinds too.
☆ those with lilith in 8th house get sexualized/objectified a lot. if you have lilith (or any other lilith) in this house, you were most likely introduced to the “sexual” more early in your life and matured more faster then your other peers. also, you might be randomly called/shouted at by other disrespectful people on the streets…i was really surprised to find out, that this is not really talked about that much, so here i am…
☆ another observation i talked about in past were pisces/12th house placements. i talked about how sleepy and tired they can get without any specific reason but let me tell you…all the water signs/house placements get like this and it's mostly because of said no reason or when they get tired just by thinking about working on something/having to describe something to the other person. they treasure their energy and how they spend it.
☆ degrees are a very important part of reading an astrology…if you have time, please learn/read about them
the end.
these observations were slightly shorter, so i am sorry about that :(
again, feel free to leave your feedback :)
194 notes · View notes
kthvlr · 2 days
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⋆౨ৎ THE WORDS YOU WHISPER - kth ᝰ.ᐟ
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— . ݁₊ 𐙚 ⊹ . ݁ ˖ —
summary: a list of things taehyung says to you in bed
notes: a little something while i continue working on my wip :) (also thinking about turning this into a series and doing this for the other members too so lmk what you think abt that!)
word count: 180
genre: smut
pairing: taehyung x reader
warnings/tags: nsfw
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“you look so pretty like this…” as he stares at you breathlessly
“let go for me”
“just relax and let me take care of you, yeah?”
“fuck…don’t stop..”
a broken, shaky, moaned out “jagiya…”
“keep going like that”
“you feel so fucking good…”
“keep making those sounds for me..”
“is this okay?”
“keep doing that and i won’t be able to hold myself back”
“i can’t” “yes you can”
“that feel okay..?”
“stop squirming.” before he pins your hips down to the bed while ruining you in between your legs
“wanna make you feel good..”
“is it bad that i want you all to myself..?”
“look at me..”
“i don’t want you to think about anything else but me”
“use your words”
“f-fuuuck…”
“you’re so fucking perfect…”
“tell me how to touch you”
“..please…”
“fuck.. do you have any idea how beautiful you look beneath me/on top of me..?”
“i want you…”
“you’re doing so good for me”
“i need you…”
“lay down for me..”
“touch me…”
“tell me what you need”
“kiss me…”
“don’t hold back”
“i love you.”
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𐙚 show some love to my other works!: masterlist
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Note
Omg girl please do part three for the trucker!!!
Love your writing
Here it isssss!!!! Thank you!🥹
Trucker!König x Stranded!Reader Part3 (fem)
MDNI🔞
Part 1, Part 2
Master List
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Hello again🥰 Like parts one and two, three requires a strong trigger warning. I love you all and hope you're having a good day. Stay safe and take care of yourselves🩷
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>cw: fem/afab, non-con, oral, breeding, drugging, p in v
2.3k word count
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It’s been two months that you’ve been with König, 10 weeks to be exact. You’ve gotten into the routine of gas station breaks and over nights at the motel. You’ve learned to not fight him after a few bad incidents. He lets you wash yourself now, but he has to watch. He’s traded zip ties for soft handcuffs while you sleep. When you do bathroom breaks, he lets you go into the woman’s side alone, without the cuffs and during the day time. A small taste of freedom.
You sit on the bed in the back of his truck's cab, arms bound and looped through the metal on the bed so you can’t move. König stopped at a gas station to fill up. You sit and look at all of the people walking past. If only they knew you were here. If only they could help.
König buys you a honey bun, turkey sandwich, water, and a soda. He has become soft on you, in his own twisted way. He enjoys treating you, and he’s learned that you have a sweet tooth. He pays at the register and smiles at the young woman. For once he doesn’t look at someone like her in a predatory way, he has you. You fill the hunger.
König walks to the side and opens your soda. He pours two crushed up sleeping pills into the bottle, knowing that you’ll probably drink this first. He has a drop off coming up and he refuses to take any chances of you escaping.
He walks back to the truck and you perk up. He smiles down at you and holds up the bag of goodies.
“I got treats for you Maus.” König sits in the driver’s seat and takes things out of the bag before standing to take your hands away from the bar so you could eat, still handcuffed though.
“Thank you…” You say in a weak voice.
“When you’re done with that, I have a soda and honeybun for you.” He sits and begins to open his own food and eat.
You smile, food has become your only form of comfort throughout all of this. Just sweet things. It’s almost like you get to be back home for those few moments while you’re eating. The better you behave, the more treats König buys.
You both sit in silence as you eat. He hands you the soda to take drinks from. You thank him as you finish your sandwich.
“Ready for your honey bun?”
“Yes, please.” You look to his blue eyes as he smiles at your submission.
You continue to drink your soda as you eat. You zone out and look out the window, starting to feel tired. You yawn, shaking your head to try and wake yourself up. Looking back at König, you’re blinking slowly. Realizing you were drugged you begin to panic.
“Why?” Your eyelids have become insanely heavy and it’s hard to focus.
“Just for a stop, Maus. I just don’t want you to run away. You’ll be safe.” His voice was oddly soothing.
“I- I wouldn’t.” You begin to struggle to stay awake, your speech slurred and body heavy. You simply can’t fight the pills.
König approaches you and grabs the almost empty soda bottle out of your hand and the half-eaten honey bun; he wraps it up to save it for you. He gently lays you back on the bed and covers your body under the blanket. He hides your hands under so no one could possibly see that you’re handcuffed.
After his drop off, König sits in the driver’s seat using his phone; the truck is blocked off and locked for sleep. He’s moving money from his subscription page, where he has been posting your videos, to his bank account. He looks over at you occasionally, admiring how adorable you look asleep.
He is planning on taking a long break and bringing you to his house. He wants to show you your new home, your new life. Plus, he’s always wanted to settle down and have a family. You seem like you’d be a perfect mom. At the very least you’d make beautiful babies for him.
Standing, he approaches you and speaks softly, “Y/n, you awake?” He shakes your leg slightly. He’s just making sure the sleeping pills are still working. 
Grabbing his phone out of his pocket, he drops his pants to the floor. His erection springs from his boxers. He kneels next to the bed and pulls your sweat pants down and looks at your stubbly pussy, brushing his fingers over the texture before pulling your bottoms off all the way.
Spreading your legs apart, he gently kisses down your soft thighs. Kissing over the bitemarks he left from the last time he was down here. Deciding to not record this, he wants to make it a more intimate moment. He is starting to fall in love with you, and sex isn’t just for profit anymore.
He continues to kiss your soft thighs; it’s been two days since you’ve showered so your pussy smells divine. As he gets closer, he takes deep breaths through his nose to completely breathe you in. Finally, his lips meet your sweet warmth. He kisses gently up and down before pressing his face in, burying his nose deep into your lips.
“So süß…” He mutters to himself.
He pulls back and rubs his fingers up and down your pussy, listening to the mushy wet sound. Slipping two fingers into your cunt, he moves back to your pussy and begins to lick your clit gently. He knows you’re asleep, but he still wants to pleasure you. His other hand on his cock, stroking it quickly. He’s been waiting all day to feel you.
Once your pussy becomes creamy wet, he pulls his fingers out and licks them. Your natural musk all over his face. Grabbing your panties, he wipes his face off on them and keeps them in his hand. He pulls his pants off his ankles and moves on top of you. Moving your left leg with his hand to give himself space to rest his body on top of you. The space is very small for a normal sized person, for someone 6 '10, it’s almost impossible; but he finds a way.
Sliding his cock inside of you easily, he’s learned the right ways to touch your body and to make you relax enough to take him without struggle. He whimpers pathetically as he feels your wet cunt wrap around him. He rests his full weight on you and wraps one of his arms around you tightly, burying his head into the crook of your neck and bringing his hand holding your panties up so he can continue to breathe you in.
“I’m going to cum Maus.”
As his hips begin to thrust quickly, he moans out your name. His body enveloping yours completely, moving his head from your panties to kiss your neck. Moaning into you as his pace picks up. His balls slapping against your ass hard as he squeezes you tightly in his arms. He lets out a loud moan, shoving your panties into his mouth to muffle the sound as he cums deep inside of you.
Panting hard, he continues to just rest there; not wanting to let go of you. He pulls your panties from his mouth and kisses your cheek softly. Lifting his body off of you, he pulls out, savoring the little pop sound your cunt always makes. König looks down at his cum leaking out of you and uses a finger to shove it back in. He dresses you again and then himself. Putting his phone away, he gets ready to go to sleep.
When you wake up König is already driving again. Your head feels groggy from the pills he snuck into your drink. You look out the window and have to squint because of the sun shining brightly through the windows.
Hearing you stir, König looks over his shoulder and smiles at you. “Guten Morgen, meine Liebe.”
“My head hurts,” you say in a sleepy voice that makes his heart warm. “And I have to pee.”
König chuckles and nods his head, “We will be stopping soon. You can get out and use the bathroom. We can also get you a treat, whatever you want.”
“Thank you…”
“So, I’ve been thinking, maybe it’s time we take a break from the road and I take you home.”
The thought of being taken to his home makes your stomach drop. Everyday on the road you see small chances of possibly running away, an odd sense of freedom when you go to the rest stop. What if you never leave the house again? That would be your final stop.
“And maybe it’s time we think about children, I’ve always wanted a big family.”
His voice shatters your internal thoughts as you look up at him with panic. Technically, you’ve been having unprotected sex already, but he never cums in you, so you think. The thought of having his children, let alone this mans, makes you feel terrified and sick to your very core. Death would be kinder than being his breeding slave. You don’t respond, just zoning out and it catches König’s attention.
“Something wrong Maus?”
“N-no,” you think quickly on your toes, “I guess I just never saw myself having kids.”
“No? You’d be a wonderful mother. You’d make beautiful children, especially with my sperm.”
That just grosses you out.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be a good father.”
How can you be when you’ve kidnapped and assaulted their would be mother? You think to yourself trying to suppress the new waves of anxiety this talk is giving you. You decide to try and change topics.
“I’m sorry to be whiny, but I really have to pee.”
“Ja, ja, okay.” König drives on just a little while longer before turning off into the first rest stop he sees. He parks the semi before standing and approaching you. He grabs your shoes for you and kneels down looking at your beautiful face. His Maus.
“Remember the rules. Eyes down, don’t talk to anybody, in and out. Then we can pick out a treat and head back home.”
Home. Hell.
“I remember.” You nod your head as he helps you put your shoes on.
He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out the key to your cuffs. He unlocks you and the scars from the zip ties are still visible. He combs your hair back with a small purple comb to make sure you look presentable. There are always odd people here, so not many questions get asked anyway.
You finally step out of the truck, König’s fingers intertwined with yours as you walk. The hot sun on your skin makes you feel so alive, like you’re real. König stands there for a while and lets you take in its warmth before he tugs your arm for you to follow him.
You both walk inside and an older woman greets you both. König responds, but you keep your head down like you were told. He walks you to the bathroom and whispers in your ears.
“Remember, in and out. Quick.”
You nod in understanding and step into the restroom. Freedom. You rush into a stall and begin to pee hard, letting out a sigh of relief as you relax your shoulders and slump forward. You linger for a while before you wipe, any little small thing that you can do to extend your time alone you do.
Stepping out to wash your hands, you hear the door open and see an old lady with a cane walk in. She smiles at you kindly and you smile back before she goes into a stall. You want to ask for help, but she’s so old you’re scared she wouldn’t understand.
You dry your hands as the bathroom door opens again and as it lingers open, you can hear so many voices talking. You wonder what’s going on as you leave the bathroom.
Opening the door, you’re surrounded by a sea of older people waiting to go in. They just got off a bus for a rest break. You look over at König and see him a little bit away from you as the rude older people push their way past him. His eyes on you like a hawk. You stand there for a while, between the door to freedom, and going back to König. You could ask for help here, but what if he really kills all these innocent people?
König is currently cut off by at least 5 people, meaning he would have to go around then to hurry to you. You saw buildings on your way here, so you could possibly just run until you reach safety. Run and lose him so you can safely call for help.
This feels like it’s been an hour of thinking when really only five seconds pass. Looking at König still, you turn and run. The fastest you’ve ever ran in your life, catching the attention of everyone, not just König.
Running out of the door and heading towards the road, you just let your fight or flight carry you away.
König’s heart sinks as he sees you do that; you’ve been so well behaved he almost can’t believe you’d do this to him. With no care, he barrels through the line of people and goes out the door after you. Everyone at the stop is confused as they watch two people run in what looks like a chase.
König’s massive body is running after you at full speed, trying to catch up to you quickly before anyone can call for help or you can reach safety.
“MAUS!” He shouts after you.
You can hear his booming voice as you run, you don’t stop. You know if you do, he will catch you. There is no telling what an angry König would do. Tears begin to stream down your face as you run, your heart beat pounding in your ears. A little voice telling you to just keep going, don’t stop.
.
.
Tag: @nachofriess
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Heated training | Steve Rogers
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 -> Avenger!Steve Rogers x Avenger!Female!Reader
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> You’re training with Steve but when he is distracted and you push him down once again things become heated.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 2.364
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, smut, dry humping, semi public sex, tiny bit angst, fluff
𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 -> Hiiii! Could you write a Steve x reader where they’re training and she’s like having to tackle him and straddle him and he gets a boner and things get heated and ya know some smut and maybe the reader is Tony’s daughter and somehow word gets out that something happened and there’s some angst in there. Hope you’re okay writing this, thank you !!❤️ @myersmaniac
𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the request and hope you like what I made with it.
𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 -> Fandom-Free Bingo: Book Night | N1 | semi private sex | @fandom-free-bingo | MCU Kink Bingo | N3 | Free Square | @mcukinkbingo
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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It’s nothing new that the tall and muscular super soldier has a huge crush on you. He always takes care that his hair looks good and that he is shaved, loving the moments you look at him with a smile on your lips. The way you talk to him, when you need to look up because you’re so small compared to him. It’s at least nothing new to him that he is in love with you; he can’t even remember for how long he has already been in love with you, but he doesn’t dare tell you or anybody else something about it. Not only because you’re Tony Stark's daughter, but also because he doesn’t want to ruin things the two of you have — the wonderful friendship he appreciates.
Steve loves to work with you, spend time with you, or just be close to you. Also, when he can’t touch you in the way he would like to do it, even when he can’t feel your lips all over his body or just cuddle with you in the way he would like, he still enjoys when the two of you laugh and spend time together. Whenever you look at him with those shining eyes and the most adorable and sweet smile on your lips, he loves to hear you laugh, especially when he is the reason for it. He could look at you for hours, admiring you.
“Rogers! Concentration! Otherwise, she tackles you down immediately, again.”
He rolls his eyes over Nat’s comment, even though she is right. You have tackled him down in just a short time since he seems too deep in his thoughts today. He doesn’t really train; it’s more staring at you, trying to grip your wrists before you throw him down, but he often fails to grip your wrists and lands on the ground in no time. Steve’s cheeks are red, and sweat runs all over his face and along his neck. His broad chest and defined abs are covered in sweat as well, his skin softly glistening in the light of the training room.
“Yeah- yeah,” he says, rolling his eyes before he grips your fist and tries to push you down.
But Steve gets distracted by your lips — your beautiful plumb lips, which are slightly parted — and your eyes, which shine like the stars at night. He gets lost in your eyes, and a moment later he feels the mattress underneath his back. You’re sitting on top of him with a big smirk on your lips. You don’t miss the way he looks at you — the way his eyes are focused on your lips and his eyes are slightly darkened. You feel a tingle on your skin when he touches you, but you try not to focus on it during training; otherwise, you both would just stare at one another.
“Sorry guys, Clint is calling. You both don’t mind me picking up?” Natasha asks, already walking out of the door.
Steve, and you look after her. When the door shuts, Steve tries to wiggle you off of him, trying to turn the two of you around, but you grip his fists and press them above his head into the mattress. Moving a bit on top of him to have a better position to hold him in place.
“What stole your concentration today, huh?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.
“N—nothing,” he replies breathlessly, trying to free his hand out of your tight grasp.
You narrow even more and cause your nose to slightly scrunch. Steve chuckles, using the moment of your confusion to free his hands, and tries once again to turn the two of you around. Steve thrusts his hips up, his hands finding their way to your hips. His fingers dig into the fabric of your pants, holding it tightly before he lifts you up. But he hasn’t thought you would jump and let yourself fall down back on him, landing perfectly on his growing bulge in his pants and causing both of you to moan.
Steve's eyes widen immediately, and thoughts run through his mind to find an excuse why his dick is hard. When you look into his wide eyes, you’re just as big as his, gasping about the sudden feeling between your thighs.
“F— Sorry,” he mumbles, blushing slightly.
“Why do you have your phone? No, your keys are in your pocket?” You ask, confused, why he thought of putting it out of his pocket before you two started the training.
“I— That’s not my phone nor my key,” he admits quietly.
You narrow, tilting your head slightly to the side, until you realize what’s pressing against your soaked pussy. It doesn’t feel bad at all, but you didn’t know he felt that way for you, or at least he wouldn’t get a hard on during training. But you straddle him for a few minutes already, so it’s understandable that he gets hard when he is attracted to you and when you move in his cock.
You slowly move your hips, feeling his length rubbing against you. Maybe you should get off of him, but it feels too good to do so, so you’re moving slowly, looking deep into his eyes while you wait for Steve to stop you from grinding against him when he doesn’t like it. But he gasps and digs his finger more into your covered skin, helping you grind on his cock.
“Princess, we—we can’t.”
“Why not? Don’t you like it?” You ask, pouting while you stop your movements on his growing dick.
“I love it— I—I love you, but—“
His eyes widen even more when he realizes what he just said. His cheeks heat up, and he opens his mouth to form an apology, but there is nothing he has in mind to say. He’s adorable when he is shy and slightly embarrassed — not that you like seeing him embarrassed around you, just that his lips are slightly parted, his blue eyes look so lovely but at the same time unsure, and his red cheeks — just hot and cute at the same time. First he got hard while training, and now he told you he loves you; he would face palm himself when his hands wouldn’t be clued to your waist, not wanting to let go of you because you could move away from his cock.
Your smirk grows when you lean closer, your lips just an inch away from his, and you can feel his warm breath on your sweaty skin. Steve closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, before he lifts his head and breaks the distance between your lips. His soft, pink lips move perfectly against yours, and he licks over your lips to ask for access. You’re parting your lips, and you're deepening the kiss until both of you need to pull away to breathe deeply.
“I love you too. Please— I need you, Stevie,” you mumble, moving your hips harder on his covered cock.
Steve groans, throwing his head back and giving you more space to kiss and bite into the soft skin of his neck. You lick a strap along his neck, chasing him to close his eyes and thrust his hips up. His bulge presses more against your covered pussy, and you moan softly.
“Everyone could see us!” He breathes heavily, looking through his lashes at you.
You sit up and smirk when your hands slide over his broad chest, and you start moving your hips at a fast but steady pace over his dick. He is panting underneath you; with his hands, he helps you to move on top of him, pushing you further down to cause more friction.
“S—Steve, I’m so close,” you whimper.
The tip of his cock is hitting your clit with every thrust, and you push both of you closer to your edge. He didn’t know it could feel that good without being inside of you, but it does, and he is just as close as you.
“Tell me we’re going to get in your room and do it again; tell me you’re mine,” Steve says, slowing your hips down.
Pre-cum is soaking his pants, and he just wants to push you more on his cock and guide you over it to make both of you come, but he wants to hear that you’re his.
“So possessive, huh?” You ask, teasingly.”
His answer is just a harsh movement of his hips. You moan and throw your head back, trying to move faster, but he stops you with his grasp.
“S— Stevie. We can do it as often as you want; I’m yours— I’m all yours, but please let me come,” you whine.
Steve grins, moving your hips faster on his dick and bringing you closer to the edge. It doesn’t take long for the two of you until you’re coming, clenching around nothing while Steve is soaking his pants with his cum. You’re both breathing heavily and calming down from your high when you hear someone coming back into the room.
“G— What are you two doing, sitting like that and doing nothing?” Tony asks, narrowing.
Steve chuckles, nodding his head. Tony just wants to inform you that you are going to have a meeting, but seeing you on top of Steve, straddling him, wasn’t something he expected to see when he came into the training room. Actually, the two of you are always trying to tackle one another.
“Oke—“ he pauses, nodding his head and inhaling. “Meeting.”
With that, he leaves the room, and you laugh. Your brother’s expression was just too funny. You lean down, capture Steve’s lips, and kiss him softly.
“After the meeting, I’m all yours.”
“You’re already mine, but then we repeat that here without clothes.”
You then get off of Steve. The blond-haired man looks at the wet spot on his pants and smirks when he sees you staring at his covered cock. You both take a shower because you get ready for the meeting Tony told you about — next mission, which isn’t really interesting for you since you only have your eyes on one another.
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Steve and you have been secretly dating for a few weeks now. You often spend time together, which isn’t new to see for the others. Even when you smile in another way, your gazes are different — happier — but no one really asks about it. They are just happy that Steve and you are happy — still thinking you’re best friends.
When Tony asks you to come into his office because he wants to talk with you, you have a huge smile on your face. When you knock at the door and swing it open, you freeze immediately. Steve is sitting there in front of your father, who looks angry, and you swallow hard. The smile fades away, and you look slightly confused.
“Come in and close the door.”
You do as you’re told; you close the door behind you and walk toward the men, letting yourself fall down next to Steve on a chair. Tony looks at you before he moves to face Steve; he then points at the monitor on the desk in front of you.
When your father turns on the video, you gasp, your eyes widen, and your hands get sweaty. You hear Steve inhaling deeply next to you. He swallows hard and slides down in his chair. The video that Tony is showing of the two of you shows Steve and you making out on the floor before you pull him with you into your room.
You know Tony isn’t a friend of the men around you; he is protective and doesn’t want someone to hurt you. He already made your ex-boyfriend run away because he was afraid of Tony’s Iron Man suit walking without him inside the suit.
“D—Dad, I would say i—it’s not what it looks like what Steve and I did, but it is. B—“
“Rogers!” Tony says, his jaw clenching when he looks at your boyfriend.
“Tony, I—I don’t want to hurt her. I—I love her,” Steve says, reaching for your hand, but you pull away, afraid of what your father could say.
Steve sighs, looking down and inhaling deeply. He rubs his hands over his pants and sighs once again before he continues to speak.
“I would never do anything she didn’t want to. Tony, I love her.”
You smile softly, but your body is still tensed, and you don’t dare look at Steve. Tony nods, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingers on the surface of his desk.
“Do you love him?” He asks, looking at you, and you nod, then he turns his face back to Steve. “When you hurt her, I will cut your balls off!”
Steve doesn’t know if he wants to smile or swallow hard, but he smiles, nodding and turning toward you. He places his hand in front of you, waiting until you place yours in his big one before he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your soft skin. Tony rolls playfully with his eyes, watching the two of you when you lean in to press your lips against Steve’s, soft and sweet.
"First, the gentleman an— Get a room!” Tony shouts, and you burst out laughing about the way he raises his eyebrows and grasps the surface of the table.
“We will,” you tell him, smirking when you get up and pull Steve with you.
With a wink at Tony, you make your way to the door of his office, leaving it. Before you can walk further through the floor, Steve pushes you against the wall behind you, attacking your lips with his.
“I love you so much, princess.”
“I love you too, Stevie.”
With that, he lifts you up and carries you into your bedroom, continuing what you have seen in the video Tony shows the two of you. And you’re glad he accepts what you have with Steve, because it’s special, and you’re happier than you ever have been since you've been with Steve. He treats you like a princess, like his perfect and sweet princess.
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𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77@bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @pono-pura-vida @princesscore-angel
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ghost-proofbaby · 2 days
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SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)
CHAPTER EIGHT: LOML
AND I'LL STILL SEE IT, UNTIL I DIE - YOU'RE THE LOSS OF MY LIFE.
☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader
☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, consumption of alcohol, (overly poetic) smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, technically unprotected sex even after the idiots discussed protection, minors dni
☆ WC: 3.9K+
☆ A/N: extremely sorry for the shortest chapter in this series yet. also, out of all the songs referenced for the title of chapters, this one might be the most on the nose. i kid you not, i cannot explain how perfectly loml encapsulates reader/sugar's emotions during this chapter. if you'd like the extra hurt, 10/10 recommends listening as you read. :)
thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!
masterlist
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 “Can I kiss you, Sugar?” 
You’ve made your fair share of dumb decisions in your life. Plenty of moments have slipped right between your fingers due to hesitation that you’d later regret, you have a catalog of embarrassing encounters to serve you a lifetime. You’ve said yes when your answer should have been a resounding no, you’ve made promises you knew were impossible to keep, and you’ve always had an unexplainable habit of digging yourself into graves that will surely bury you alive. 
This moment is no different. 
The correct reaction is to tell him no, to push him away and end the night here. You should leave before either of you make any mistakes and ruin whatever fragile thing resides between the two of you any further. There’s a million other options you should be taking, but at the end of the day, you still nod your head. 
Not even a second later, Eddie’s lips are on yours, and it’s hard to call it a mistake when it’s the first time you’ve felt like you could properly breathe in two years. 
He tastes like bourbon, and mistakes, and regret, and a youthful type of love impossible to grasp onto. A vague memory you never get to hold, but always learn to miss. When his hands travel slowly to your hips, you’re only pressing closer, deepening the kiss with the desperation of someone starved. Someone stained. 
You were an idiot to think it wouldn’t end this way. You were in his apartment, and you were drunk. You were brimming with bad decisions. It was always going to end up this way. 
Your knees somehow end up digging into the sofa cushions on either side of his hips, your recollection of how you climbed into his lap nonexistent. Had it been his doing, his own needy hands guiding you here? Or had it been you? You, with an ache that rang throughout your entire body, soothed only by sharing each of his breaths with him when he finally pulls back from the kiss. 
“Are you sure you want thi-”
“Don’t ruin it,” you beg, silencing him as you look into those deep autumn eyes, memorizing rivets of soft auburn that never really changed. An ever changing kaleidoscope, but there were simply parts of Eddie he’d never be able to hide from you,to change, “Not yet. Please.”
You don’t know if you’ll want it come morning. You can’t estimate just how deeply the regret will burrow once it’s all said and done; you’re not in the mood to think sensibly. No hypotheticals, no curiosity for the future. 
You just want him. Right here, right now. Far beyond just sex, and far beyond casual touches. But it’s the only way you can have him, the only way he can have you, for now. 
His fingers are more skilled these days. More deft and nimble as they race up and down your sides, quickly undoing the button of your jeans and easily sneaking beneath your shirt. Two years could be two seconds with the way he still knows you and your body, knowing exactly where to apply more pressure as he plucks on every string beneath your skin that makes you sing out for him. Hums, gasps, moans – they all sort of blend together at some point, don’t they? 
“I’ve missed you,” you swear you hear him mumble against the skin of your neck when his mouth begins to wander, “I’ve missed this.” 
You convince yourself he didn’t say it just to avoid ripping yourself apart any further.  
Instead, you busy your mouth with kissing him harder, faster, more desperately. You’re all but burying yourself in him. Your hips grinding against his, your lips swallowed in his, your hands finding themselves tangled in his hair. 
You’re drunk enough that you convince yourself that this is it – this is home. 
It feels natural to let him run you down this way. It’s instinctual as he takes his shirt off and your hands roam over bare skin that whispers with the ridges of paths you’ve traced before. You know that scar on his right hip from when he got his appendix removed as a child, you know that lightened patch of skin on his left thumb from when he’d managed to burn himself with a lighter while cutting class one day with you. You know him – so much better than you’d let yourself believe these last few weeks. 
“Do you have a condom?” you pant, and you both pretend like your words are choked up from gasping to recover the air you’d offered to the kiss, and not the emotions rearing their ugly heads. 
He does. Of course he does. He’s a rockstar now – he has women throwing themselves at him constantly. Of course he’s prepared. 
It happens somewhere between him pulling the condom out of his wallet, and managing to pull his own shirt off. At some point in which you’re left in nothing but your undergarments, hips grinding down on his in sloppy circles, he lets out a low and drawn out moan. All your movements stutter, nearly halting, as that sound rings out around you. You swear, it echoes off the walls of your own head and not the eerily empty apartment. 
You break as you gasp out, “Fuck, Eddie.” 
Another dumb decision for the books. All it takes is you sighing his name for him to flip the entire script. Suddenly, you’re no longer straddling his lap, no longer biting his lip and gripping onto the back of the sofa for balance. 
Your back collides with the cushions below and he hovers over you, kissing with more intent and purpose this time. Each press of his lips is followed by the nipping of teeth, desperately trying to mark you up along your chest, completely oblivious to the way he’s already left his stain. 
You’re convinced if he presses his lips just hard enough, if he bares his teeth just sharp enough, he’ll see right through you. Your skin will become all but cellophane and he’ll see all those blooming violets and deep maroons still left behind in the shape of his mouth. He’ll see the way another has never followed these paths, not after him. 
All the failed rebounds, all the failed distractions. There’s never been another person capable of taking your mind off of Eddie Munson. No one’s kiss ever made you bleed the way he’s capable, no one’s touch could ever erase the mark of his. 
The wine still makes your head swim as your chin tilts to the roof, giving him all the room possible to paint whatever picture he’s vying for on your skin. You let him leave his physical mark; you let him leave a physical reminder of something to regret. 
“Do you know how many times I played this moment back over in my head?” his voice is a murmur that vibrates against your sternum, words not quite slurring, “Do you know how many times I swore-”
You don’t know – and you never find out what exactly he had sworn time and time again as the trill ringing of a cell phone shatters the entire atmosphere. 
One moment, Eddie’s lips are painting portraits along your chest and neck, the acceptance of making a mistake settling deep into your bones. And the next, he’s lifting up, looking wildly towards his kitchen, where you’re sure that it’s his phone buzzing erratically on the counter. 
“I-” he looks wildly between you and the distant phone, pupils blown out and lips swollen, “Fuck, I-”
All the air leaves your lungs.
There will be no mistakes tonight. 
“Go answer it,” you whisper, deflating as you accept the interruption. The moment’s over, fading in between the lipstick marks on your wine glass and the glow of the lamps scattered throughout his living room, “It’s fine.” 
It’s not fine. It’s written plainly across his face that this is the furthest thing from fine at this moment. But duty calls; his phone is ringing, your mind is buzzing, and the moment is simply gone. 
It has to be fine. You have to be fine with it. 
“I’ll be right back,” he swears as he lifts himself up off the couch, but you know he won’t be. 
Your shirt is already back by the time he’s reached the counter, laptop already tucked safely back into your bag as he answers the call. 
“Hello?” he asks, eyes flitting over to you as he watches you gather your things, picking up the wine glass that had been yours the entire night in order to carry it over to the sink he leans against the counter next to. A bit of chatter comes from over the line, and Eddie’s entire face twists, “Am I busy? Yeah, yeah – as a matter of fact, I am.” 
Just as you sit the glass into the sink, you bring a hand to his bicep, letting it rest there selfishly. Feeling his bare skin one final time, drinking in the heat he radiates through your palm, giving yourself one last chance to memorize it. 
You’re not busy, you mouth to him with a sad smile. 
He’s not. Because there will be no mistakes tonight. 
You go to pull your hand away, prepared to somehow call an Uber or taxi, but he’s quick to wrap his fingers around your wrist just as your skin slides from his. It’s not forceful, but simply firm. Clinging with a desperation you can’t recognize. 
Stay, he mouths back, the person over the line clearly continuing to speak without Eddie paying them any mind.
You almost do. You falter and consider dropping your bag then and there. You nearly stay, wait out the phone call, sit pretty and patient until he returns to you just as he had promised. 
But he had left you with a promise of later once before, and he hadn’t kept his promise then. 
“Oh,” you whispered, disappointment gripping your lungs, “Oh, that’s fine! Go, they need you.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. You missed hearing that in person, that soft laughter in the shell of your ear over inside jokes and one too many glasses of wine. “Rockstar duties and all. We’ll talk more later?”
Later had never found its way back to the two of you all those years ago – why would it now? 
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Eds,” you whisper, soft enough to guarantee whoever was on the other side of the phone call wouldn’t hear you. The fall of his face is almost enough to make you take back the words and swallow them back down. 
“Wait-” he’s not whispering, almost as though he’s forgotten about the call entirely. You can hear the silence over the line, probably in confusion, as you walk away, “Wait- No- I-”
You motion to the phone still pressed to his ear and cheek, trying to remind him that someone else can hear. 
He removes it and ends the call before you can protest.
“Eddie-” you start to scold, but he refuses to hear any of it. 
“No, no,” he sounds as though he might be begging. And you can’t tell if he’s begging you to not reprimand him, or if he’s begging you to not leave, “I don’t care. It was just Matt, he can wait till morning.” 
It doesn’t answer the question of what he wanted from you. 
“It’s getting late, anyways,” you’re still trying to detect your escape route, the longer you spend in the aftermath making your chest tighten more and more.
You can’t do this. 
You can’t stand in this room with him and pretend that it’s all okay. You can’t act as though the wine’s effects are slipping away from you and you can’t brush off the feeling of his lips across your chest. You have no patience left to act as though your lungs aren’t shriveling up in your chest, unable to get enough air when he’s too close all while being all too far away. 
It would have been a mistake, and you’re both better for the interruption. 
Eddie shakes his head, letting out a dry laugh, “We aren’t doing this again, Sugar. We aren’t going to just pretend that didn’t happen-”
“Why not?” you challenge him, “This… it’s better this way, Eddie. If we kept it up, we both would have regretted it, and it’d just be another mistake-”
“Who’s we?” he cuts you off. 
We. You, me, both of us. We’d both regret it, wouldn’t we? 
But you still didn’t regret kissing him. You still didn’t regret sitting in his lap and drinking him in, you still wouldn’t take back whatever moment was shared prior to the phone’s interruption. 
All your regrets are spoken in future tense. All the mistakes are somewhere ahead of you, your mind running to things that haven’t happened yet.
How do you know if you’d regret it? How do you know if he’d regret it?
Your hold on your bag begins to loosen, “I- Both of us. We’d both regret it.” 
“I wouldn’t regret it. I don’t think I could ever regret you.” 
This is the part you walk away. You sling your bag onto your shoulder, you tell him to have a goodnight, and you leave. You’ll see him tomorrow, and you’ll pretend this conversation never happened. 
Except you don’t.
Your bag falls to the ground, a muted crash that probably pisses off his downstairs neighbors. The toes of your shoes knock into the worn bag, kicking it to the side with more gentleness than you should be capable of right now. When he reaches out a hand to hold you, you take it. 
You let him get his hot palms back on your body. You let his lips find their way back to yours. 
You finally just let the mistake happen and take the chance on finding out if the regret is nothing more than shadows in the closet, make-believe once you turn the light back on. 
The couch isn’t the destination this time. You’re almost sad that you don’t get to admire any of his decor as he drags you down the hallway, but you also doubt there’s even a sliver of the ghost of the man holding onto you in any of it. He’s not on the walls, he’s not in the pictures; he’s right in front of you, kissing you heavily and desperately, letting his feet stumble right over yours as he finally reaches blindly for the knob of the door behind you. He’s in the rings pressing into the skin of your hips and he’s in the wavering cologne that bursts from his sheets as he carefully drops you back on a bed far too large for one man. 
He’s in the shadow hovering over you, he’s in the slide of his leg as he spreads your thighs to find home between them. He may not haunt this apartment, but he haunts you. Your body, your mind, your senses. 
Always have, always will. 
Alcohol isn’t clouding the moment anymore as each kiss is gentler, retracing the bruises already forming across your collar bones. He’s taking his time, enjoying himself, no longer rushing through the process of getting to know you again. The loss of your shirt and the unbuttoning of your jeans is done with shaking hands this time. Less sure, but far more determined. 
Your own hands are steady, though, as you undress him. You’re sure. This is your mistake to make, your mistake to regret. And maybe he had a point – maybe it is impossible for either of you to regret each other. For all the tears shed and all the nights spent cursing his name, it’s never once crossed your tongue that you wanted to erase him. You think if someone were to try and take him, take all that you two had shared together from you, that they’d be met with white knuckles and deathly screams. A rancid animal foaming at the mouth, refusing to let go of the one thing it had ever managed to sink its claws into. 
You’d forgotten just how well you know him. 
It was beyond superficial scars and childhood stories. You still remember the exact pulse point that makes him moan out with just a brush of your mouth against it. You can still find that spot above his hips that spasm when your hands grip them, encouraging him to grind down onto you. You know his body, you know his past, you know his mind. 
Words are no longer necessary as it finally happens. 
Prayers of each other’s name, ignorance in the way this entire moment was becoming too gentle for two fools rekindling. A practiced dance you once only ever dreamt of swaying to with him. 
You would have given him everything. You did give him everything. Your youth, your future, your aspirations, your daydreams of a glittering gem on your sacred finger and a list of baby names the two of you had argued over endlessly. All those things still belong to him, even now. Even as this new version of him hovers over you, lips trailing with purpose over your abdomen, making his way down to your core. 
You can’t tell if he’s a stranger when he places a hot kiss over the cotton of your underwear. You can’t tell if you ever spent two years away from him as his hands hold down your hips when they buck in response. 
“Eddie,” you beg, fingers lacing into his curls just as they had earlier, gripping onto him for dear life. You’re looking down at him between your thighs, refusing to blink on the off chance that he’ll simply vanish when you do, “Please.” 
“Please what, Sugar?” 
“Touch me,” you gasp out as his fingers toy with the waistband of your underwear, colossus course against soft skin, “Kiss me, fuck me- I just-” 
No further explanation is needed. Your wish is his command. 
Your panties are tossed to the hardwood floor at the edge of the bed as if they always belonged there. His mouth ravishes you as if this was just a nightly routine between the two of you. As if he didn’t have to second think what pace you might prefer, or when to add the first finger. Or the second. He plays you beautifully, crooking his fingers and nipping at sensitive skins and nerves alike, listening to the way you only seem to remember his name. Like you don’t remember the sound of a dial tone instead of declarations of adoration, like you don’t remember the excuses for him denying you all his attention. 
You wish you could just stay in this moment forever. Him, buried between your thighs. All hurt and all stains forgotten when he builds you up to the edge, when he murmurs against your clit about how pretty you look for him right now. 
Cheap wine soaking Halloween costumes. Hazy rooms, smokey with youthful desires and incense. Dancing in an apartment filled with boxes not yet unpacked. Whispers of something being real. Late night trips to the gas station and all the pride in your eyes as you heard his song played on public radio for the first time. The terrible waiting, the messy kisses of more teeth than lips. A simple necklace adorned with a simple ring, burning with more promises than either can comprehend, still gathering dust at the bottom of your jewelry box to this day. 
Just in case. Just in case he ever came back; just in case you ever returned. 
By the time he’s climbing back up your body, you have one foot in the past, cleaving yourself in two as you cling to him like water. 
“Look at you,” he whispers when his face is back above yours, lips still slick with you, “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?” 
You swear, for just a moment, his eyes are mirrors. And you can see that dazed look you wear, the face of a woman still trapped by her past. The face of someone who can’t let the dead stay buried. Someone you wouldn’t describe as beautiful, but Eddie would. 
You should have left. You should be regretting this. You only pull him closer. 
His boxers bunch at his ankles, your fingernails dig into his back. When you feel him press against you, the tip of his dick just barely tapping against your clit, your entire body tenses. This was it. This was the mistake you had taken responsibility for, this was the choice you’d decided was worth damnation. A simple slip up, a quick fall backwards, and you’ll be right back where you started two years ago. 
“You still want this?” he sighs into your ear, clearly feeling the way you’d froze up. 
Your breath catches for just a second. More memories, more images that cut straight through you. Every careless afternoon, every serene morning. Every haunted night. 
“Yeah,” your entire body relaxes, muscle by muscle, “Yeah, I still want this.” 
You mean more than just the sex. 
The press of your heels into his lower back is all the encouragement he needs to finally push into you. The stretch burns, but it’s welcome all the same. Just an aftereffect of years of emptiness, of failing to ever find something that could make you feel as whole as he does. 
The moan he lets out as he’s wrapped in your warmth sends shivers down your spine. You swear, laced in it, there lies a gasp of relief. A sigh of coming home after a long tour, the huff of an exhale just before he crosses the threshold of a front door and has you in his arms again. 
You don’t know when the tears started. 
But between his thrusts, between all his wanton groans and your own quivers of excitement, your cheeks turn wet. 
“Then I say let it burn.”
You can’t tell if it’s sweat or his own tears seeping into your skin as your bodies press together harder, your head thrown back in ecstasy. 
“I love you so goddamn much, it hurts. I can’t believe this is real.” 
You find your hands tugging on the roots of his curls even harder as you try to tether yourself back to him, but it’s no use. 
“When I get back, all I care about is you.” 
It all comes crashing down on both of you as his face is buried in the crook of your neck and your thighs squeeze around his hips – all the love that was there, all the love that was lost. All the love that still remains. 
“Something for you to always have as a reminder that I’ll come back to you. You’re it for me, sweetheart.”
He’d always warned you this would happen. That one day he’d come back to you. That he’d only ever come back for you. 
It doesn’t matter how deep of scratches you leave across his back, or how many hickies he paints your skin with. There will never be enough bloodshed between the two of you to wash away the truth. It’s not a mistake, it’s not something to regret. You wish it was; you wish it were so simple. No, this moment was one thing and one thing only – inevitable. 
They always did say that your life would flash before your eyes right before you die. 
And flash it does – a lifetime of love that was had and love that will never come back to you – as Eddie brings you both to your graves from the most cursed of little deaths.
eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles
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tojiscursedtool · 1 day
Note
Requesting headcanons for Jujutsu High Teacher Male!Reader being in a "Colleagues With Benefits" relationship with hung!Gojo.
R doesn't like Gojo (but Gojo's friendly with him), but he loves sucking on Gojo's big fat cock, and Gojo loves how well R can handle it with such skill & ease.
🏮| ° .• Satoru H/Cs . ‹𝟹 ` ֶָ֢
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Note ~ thank you so much for the request I really hope this is to your liking, thank you for explaining the details in DMS too!!(╹◡╹)♡.. I’m really sorry though if you do not like this or if it’s not to your liking!
MENTIONS — Male!Reader, Teasing, Face Fucking, Blowjobs/Handjobs in public, harsh/aggressive face fucking, praising from gojo, spit/saliva, photo/video taking while sucking him off, making out as you stroke him off.
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— Hung!Gojo who would force you to completely take his cock down your throat with a tight ass grip on your hair just to feel your warm hot mouth around his cock.
— Hung!Gojo who knows you don’t like him but proceeds to tell you how much he likes you and how cute you look when you suck his massively big cock.
“You’re so cute when you’re like this..so pretty f’me. So perfect.” He’d probably say corny shit too but he really does mean it, he finds you so cute and pretty even when you give him that mean glare when sucking his dick. He knows you like it when he fucks the back of your throat, it’s feel good to you but you’d never admit that to HIM.
— Hung!Gojo who praises you for any little thing you do while sucking his cock, especially wrapping your long tongue around his shaft, he’s never really had anyone who could really suck his dick properly. They’d complain saying ‘it’s too big’ or that ‘I can’t take it!!’ But you were a different story, you could take his cock in your throat with ease.
“F—fuck. Good boy..keep goin’. Doin’ so well f’me..such a perfect hole to fuck.” He grunted out as he pushed your head down onto his cock, you looked up at his messed up face with that cold neutral stare you gave him everyday. You liked getting those reactions out of him though, especially when you used your long tongue to lick and swirl all around his shaft he couldn’t help but slam his hips pounding his cock into your mouth.
— Hung!Gojo who loves how skilled you are when taking his huge cock, even when he’s rough with you. You take it like a fuckin’ champ and he loves every minute with you, especially when you’re able to swallow all of his cum. Gojo knows that when he comes it’s a lot more than the average person and his cocky ass is obviously going to be proud of that.
— Hung!Gojo who whimpers and whines when you tease his cock by kissing the tip and purposely avoiding eye contact with him. He hates when you tease him he loves when you completely take him in your mouth. you know how much he loves eye contact and it drives him crazy. You dislike him so much but yet you use your mouth to please him..sometimes you wanted to be mean and make him beg until he couldn’t take it anymore:
“P—please. Baby..ah. Stop teasin’..ya’know how much I hate it..please?” He begged in a whining tone leaning towards you a little trying to look you in the eye to keep eye contact but you purposely avoided his gaze. Your hands barely stroking him just lightly rubbing it, you could feel his cock twitch and throb in your hand. You continued to barely suck his big cock, just kissing and licking the tip.. he was little our little whimpers you didn’t even know a man like him could make. You didn’t take him for the pathetic type but here he was..begging and whining like a little bitch. You smirked slightly as Gojo cupped the sides of your face with his shaky hands, his breath was hitched and shaky as well. He needed you so bad and he would pretty much do anything just for you to please and take him in your mouth, after all you were the only one who was able to take him.
— Hung!Gojo who sometimes stayed the whole day being pent up due to your teasing, you’d only kiss and lick on the tip of his huge cock and stop completely leaving him there to take care of himself. You were so mean to him. He kinda digged it though because that meant later on he could be rough and punish you..
— Hung!Gojo who waits for the day to be over with so he can absolutely fucking destroy you. He’s been bothered all day with the teasing you did to him and you know damn well what you did. He’d wait till you’re alone until he drags you with him and puts you in his domain. Before you could even get a word in next thing you knew his dick was in your mouth and he was shoving it down your throat making you take it.
You were shocked by the sudden way he just overlapped his domain keeping you there, making you suck his cock. He liked you so he wasn’t going to be so rough with you but he was still kind of mad, you were petty so he wanna gonna give you that same attitude back. Kind of..his hips moved back and forth harshly and quickly making sure the tip of his huge ass dick hit the back of your throat causing you to gag a little while sucking his cock. You felt every vein throb in your mouth as he coated your throat with his pre-cum. He wasn’t even close to coming yet..he wanted to ruin you..or at least try to. His dick was so big that there would be a bulge in your throat each time he moved his hips forward to make his cock sink more into your mouth. He had a smug look on his face as he used both hands to hold the back of your head slamming it onto his cock. “Your tongue, start using it.” You hesitated but did what he asked, you used your tongue to swirl around his thick cock as you kept looking at him in his bright blue glowing eyes. Your gagging and slurping noises echoed through out of the domain and you swore you heard his voice whispering in your ear even though he was standing in front of you making you suck his cock. Your body felt more sensitive and you could feel yourself growing hard from him? From Gojo? No way. That must’ve been a delusion but it really was true, your face didn’t really change it was still the same from earlier, not much expression just a neutral stare but what was different was the slight blush on your cheeks. Not because you liked him, no, you hated him but you were embarrassed he was able to catch you like this..you were going to unbutton your pants and deal with yourself in front of him but the sole of his shoe laid on your bulge pressing on it as he slightly rubbed it with his foot. “Ah ah..keep sucking my dick baby. You focus on me and only me..understand?” He patted the back of your head before you could nod or try to agree he came in your mouth, it was more than usual. It was so much but you were able to handle it, of course you were. You were perfect for this and so skilled at it..his whole body shuddered as he let his load out inside your mouth filling up your throat..after he was done with his orgasm he pulled out making you open your mouth to make sure you swallowed it all and like always..you did. “Good. Don’t let that happened again or else it’ll be your ass I’ll fuck the shit out of.” He said staring at you smiling as his domain was now off.
— Hung!Gojo who knows you love sucking on his big cock no matter the day or time it is. It could be all alone in the classroom, full of a bathroom with people trying to be quiet, in the dorms, in the meeting room all alone, in his car, anywhere. He’d give you it anytime of the day too, as long as you ask.
— Hung!Gojo who loves to hold your hands as he watches you suck his dick with no hands to help you, the he’s impressed with how you suck his big cock with your cute warm wet mouth. He’d even coo at you and tell you how good you’re doing.
— Hung!Gojo who goes on a rant about how perfect your dick sucking skills are, how you do better than any woman or man who’s ever tried to ever suck his cock, he’d even spoil you with lavish gifts and buys you whatever you wanted. Even if you didn’t ask he knew, he knew you so well. You may have hated him but he loved you and your perfect skill to be able to take his fat cock down that throat of yours.
— Hung!Gojo who would probably ask you to suck his dick in the middle of a mission or have you stroke him off during a meeting.
— Hung!Gojo who would constantly repeats how much he loves you and how he adored you more than anyone while sucking his dick. He didn’t care if you didn’t care he just wanted you to know how much he loves you..so much.
— Hung!Gojo who would sometimes lay back and let you do all the work when you insist to..you want to do your own thing here and there and go at your own pace. By ‘your own pace’ you mean absolutely breaking him. You’re able to make your throat squeeze down on him and make it feel like his own personal little glory hole when in reality it’s your throat making him feel good.
— Hung!Gojo who loves when you stroke him off before sucking his large cock, he loves the feeling of your cold hands touching and squeezing around his cock, he loved the way you’d sometimes sit on his lap and making out with him keeping eye contact as you rub and stroke his cock. The small moans he let out during the kiss turned you on sometimes if you were feeling nice enough you’d let him thigh fuck you for only 5 minutes.
— Hung!Gojo who’s cock is 7 inches long when soft and around 11 inches when hard with a bit of a pale pink flushed tip. How he would always produce pre-cum when you kissed and sucked the sides of the shaft of his cock. He enjoyed when you licked and cleaned the pre-cum off of his cock.
— Hung!Gojo taking videos or photos of you while you went at it and sucked his cock, praising you, leaving sweet comments, commenting on how well your dick sucking skills are, how you swallowed up his cum like your own special little beverage. He’d even ask to recreate some videos or photos if he enjoyed them that much.
— Hung!Gojo who spits in your mouth and makes you use his saliva to make his cock slide in your mouth with more ease. Not like it was hard for you anything..he just found it hot how you would do so.
— Hung!Gojo who loves the way you look at him when you suck his dick, your expression is usually cold with him but it softens when you’re sucking his dick. He finds it absolutely adorable and doesn’t comment on it, he doesn’t want you to hide this little side to you. He loves it too much. Although it doesn’t change THAT much it still looks cute and he’s into it. He’s into you. He loves you.
— Hung!Gojo who’s dick is is too big to to only use one hand while jerking him off, you’d have to use both hands AND your mouth if you wanted to please him right.
— Hung!Gojo who sends you pictures of his bulge/dick completely out while you’re doing your job, at home, or just anywhere.
— Hung!Gojo who loved to fill up your mouth with his warm cum, how you’d whisper a thank you or tell him to give you more, sometimes he’d make you beg or ask him but you didn’t really care..you just wanted his ridiculously huge cock.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
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swordsandholly · 10 hours
Note
def need more ditzy reader with mechanic 141- the only thing that tops my love for military men is blue collar boys <333
make sure to take care of yourself tho lovie!! don’t burn urself out :))
I for sure want to write more of her. Hopefully after this insane week at work I’ll be able to really sit down and crank out some writing. For now I’m battling my way through Ch 3 of Across the Way
But pls enjoy this little not proofread experimental snippet I wrote for ditzy reader
“Look.” Your landlord sighs loudly. Like you’re the one inconveniencing him. “I’ll send someone out.”
“That’s what you said two days ago! And three days before that!” You stomp your foot at no one just to get some of the anger out.
“I’ll get to it when I get to it.”
“Why can’t you-“ The line cuts before you can finish. The jerk hung up on you! What the hell!
You pout, plopping down into your desk chair and sighing. What are you supposed to do? You’re not allowed to call a handyman according to the lease and you don’t have a boyfriend right now. You can’t keep washing pans in the bathroom. It’s gross.
You huff.
“Alright?” Simon asks and you whirl in your chair. How does he walk so quietly?
“Yeah…” You pout harder under his steady gaze, slipping down further into the chair.
“You’re a terrible liar, luv.” His eyes crinkle in corners with a smile.
“Well…” You shrug, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. “My kitchen sink has been broken for a whole week and the landlord won’t do anything about it! I called and called and he just keeps saying he’ll send someone and then doesn’t!” Your voice pitches at the end, real annoyance bleeding through into the edges of your words. You fist your hands in your skirt.
“That’s all?” He raises an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you just ask one of us?”
You blink twice, staring up at him. Your face heats and you look away bashfully - not wanting to admit you didn’t think to ask for their help. Stupid. “I don’t want to be a bother…”
“I’ll come by after work.”
“You don’t have to-“
“I’ll be there.” He nods before marching back into the garage. You just blink after him as he goes.
True to his word, Simon shows up at your door with a massive tool box in hand. Really, he still can’t believe you live in such a shit complex. Price pays you well enough. The locks might as well be paper-mache. Simon lowers his mask before knocking. He trusts you with his face - hell you probably forget it every time you look away - but he also wants you to trust him too. For whatever reason.
You’re staring when you open the door. Big doe eyes looking up at him and blinking slowly. He wonders what goes on behind those blank eyes of yours - if it’s nothing at all or such a chaotic dialogue that you can’t process it enough to pay attention.
All or nothing.
“Gonna let me in, doll?” He asks. You startle, not realizing how intensely you zoned out.
“Oh! Yes!” You jump out of the way, letting him into your small studio apartment. Every time he thinks your shorts can’t get smaller he’s proven wrong.
Simon takes a look around, huffing at the net full of stuffies hanging on the wall. Everything about your home is soft - soft colors, soft fabrics. It smells like vanilla, just like you always do when you come into the shop. His eyes lock briefly on a well-loved sewing machine covered in stickers with a project still under the needle. You must have been working on it before he got here.
Did you mean to leave your bra hanging on the back of that chair right by the kitchen? Lacy and lilac. He’ll have to remember that for some other time. Maybe your birthday.
“Let’s ‘ave a look.” He sighs, knees popping as he crouches in front of the sink. It’s a fucking mess, that’s for sure. At least you figured out how to turn the water off.
“Pipe’s busted.” He says. “I can seal it but it’ll take a sec.”
“Okay.” You murmur.
Simon sighs as he turns onto his back to get a better look. He doesn’t miss the way you stare blatantly at his midsection as his shirt rides up. He might adjust some to expose just a bit more.
You really are the least subtle thing in the planet, aren’t you?
“Can you come hold the light f’me, luv?” He points to the toolbox.
“This one?” You ask, as if it isn’t the only flashlight in the box.
“Yeah.”
“Like this?”
“Yup.” At first he expects you to sit silently so he can concentrate, but he quickly realizes that was far too presumptuous.
“Do you have a girlfriend, Si?” You ask quietly.
He huffs. “No.”
“Oh.” You chew your lip. “You seem like the kind of guy that would.”
Simon has never heard a bigger misread in his damn life but he’ll take it as a compliment, he supposes. “Why do you ask?”
“Cause this is boyfriend work and you’re good at it.”
Simon tries to see your logic - he really does - but he just has no clue how those things are even remotely related. Sure, guys fix things for their girlfriends but calling it ‘boyfriend work’ when anybody with two cents could do it is a bit silly. More than, if he’s honest. He just grunts in response, at a total loss for how to respond.
Simon looks down at you. The way you kneel as your cleaving spills out of your tiny tank top - one of many you insist on wearing so often. He can give into temptation just a little bit, right? “Gonna need you to get closer, doll.”
“Oh!” You scoot forward until your knees brush his side. So ready to listen. Cute.
“Can you lean in a bit?”
“Like this?” You lean forward, chest pressing against him while your hand splays over his midsection for balance. Fucking hell.
“Perfect. Good girl.”
It’s bold and a bit uncoordinated even for him. Something Johnny would try. The purposeful choice of words seems to go right over your head. Instead you blush and smile, shifting your hips just a bit. Your chest pushes further into him. So soft.
Fuck.
You’ll be the death of him. Thank god you’re too unobservant to notice that he’s rock fucking hard.
He’s already done with the sink by the time of this little exchange, but he pretends to tighten some useless bolts anyway just to keep you against him a little longer before shooing you away. It’s cute, the way you scramble to get out of the way. Simon turns the water back on before standing, and gesturing toward the sink.
“Give it a try, luv.”
A little furrow forms in your brow as you step forward to turn it on, crouching and standing to make sure the leak has stopped. You turn the faucet off and whip your head around with a grin.
He’s pretty sure you burst an eardrum with the pitch of the squeal you let out, bouncing over and tightly wrapping your arms around his waist. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
“It’s no pro-“ he cuts off as you push up onto your tip toes and press a kiss to his cheek. He can’t help but bark out a laugh. Little minx.
“Oh, I got some lipstick-“ You reach up to smudge it off but he bats your hand away. He’ll wear it back to the garage and show off the kiss he got. Johnny’s going to absolutely fume.
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pandoraslxna · 3 days
Note
Congrats on 10 K ,Luna!We're all so proud of you,thank you for contributing to our whole community😊🎀
As for your asks,could I request 📝? I was thinking Neteyam being submissive (because I just love how you write him, especially in Unwinding Together and on the Cockwarming prompt from Kinkmas,that always makes me crazyyyy😩)
Here's a cake to celebrate!!🎂 So proud of you!!!
-🦅
Thank you so much, pookie!! I hope you like it 🥹🩵
Neteyam x female human reader, minors dni 🔞
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He has never seen a silk dress before, but great mother do you wear that little piece of tawtute [sky people] clothing well.
Neteyam closes his eyes and inhales shakily as you leave a red lipped kiss on his lips. The next time he opens them, it’s all darkness behind the fine woven cloth you’ve bound around his head, taking away his sight. Now your fingers are trailing down the exposed skin on his abs, lower and lower, before they suddenly stop and he lets out a whine. That earns him a mean little bite to his earlobe. It stings, but makes him quiet. The night has just begun, anyway.
The warmth of your mouth wandering from his ear to his throat makes him shudder, but he doesn't make a peep. He’s not ready for another bite... yet.
Five solid minutes of silence, safe for the sound of his heavy breathing as you kiss up and down his face, throat and collarbone, before Neteyam begins to hear something wet. By your following heady breaths, he realizes you must’ve started touching yourself, right in front of him. Silence falls again but is quickly broken when he feels your moist fingers against his bottom lip. "Taste", you tell him, and his tail whips against your mattress in excitement.
"You want more, hm?" You purr and he moans around your fingers, and that‘s all the approval you need.
Neteyam feels the silk of your thighs framing his head just before you push your wet cunt down harshly against his mouth. With one hand tangled in his braids, and one against the wall behind your bed to support your balance, you begin to ride him. His mouth sets to work immediately, tongue swirling around your clit, lips kissing and sucking wherever you guide him, and you let your head fall back as you enjoy the ride.
"Good- Fuck, N-Nete!" But then you push yourself away just as he's about to push you over the edge. The groan of protest earns him a tug to his tail, that has been trashing around right next to you this entire time. This time it’s enough to elicit a complain from his parted lips that you couldn’t quite understand.
"What was that?"
"Nothing", he mumbles, then hisses when you tug on his tail again, harder this time. A reminder of his manners. "Thank you, yawne. I'm sorry, yawne."
You reach behind yourself then, fingers slowly tracing the tip of his cock, dipping down to teasingly stroke the thick girth of his shaft. You can practically see him vibrating with the force of staying still, but you know he's strong enough to break the ropes around his wrists at any moment. He doesn’t, though. He just loves this game just as much as you, and he’s not ready for it to end yet.
"What do you want, Teyam? Do you want me to take you in my mouth, choking on you even while I deny you permission to come? Or does my filthy little pet want to get his dick wet, hm? Want me to ride you nice and slow, see how long it’ll take you to beg for it? What do you want? Speak." You command, squeezing especially hard around his base and he groans.
"I want... you, yawne." You giggle, oh so sweetly, as he stiffens in your hold. "Hmm, that's not an answer. Why don’t you show me, baby?"
The last thing you see before he rips those leather ropes to shreds and takes you, are his fangs poking out from under his slick covered lips as he grins at you. He’s strong, almost too strong and your heart races as he drills his cock into you in one fluid thrust. He still can’t see through that blindfold, but he has your knees over his shoulders and you sandwiched between him and the mattress.
"Take. It. Off." Though the pleasure coursing through your veins you finally figure out he’s talking about the blindfold. Pulling it down his face, you see the fire in his golden eyes a split second before his tongue is down your throat, probing and tasting as he fucks you hard enough to make you cry out. You cling to him, his cock brushing against your g-spot flawlessly as he slams into you like a jackhammer, all feral rage and passion. He bites down on your neck and you scream as your orgasm makes you tighten around him. He only follows after the final tremors of your orgasm have been forced out by his length.
When he finally stills, all cum successfully planted deep inside your core, he’s laying himself down on top of you, panting against your hair with his face buried against your throat.
"Did I please you, yawne?" He asks coyly, tail wagging behind his back in anticipation.
"God, yes," You respond in a hushed giggle, a little short of breath, "You did good. So good."
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fvcking-fae · 2 days
Text
Continuation/Part 2 of the Alien Scientists x Abducted Human
Here’s part 1
(CW; Reader is a female)
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You’re woken up softly by the lights slowly turning from dim to bright and the alien you’ve grown to recognize steps into your room (more like a weird hospital room) with a few supplies on a hovering cart. He says nothing as he replaces your empty nutritional iv bag that’s hooked up to your arm with a full one. You still can’t quite tell his emotions because of his “odd” face. No wrinkles, no facial hair including eyebrows and lashes. Only dark grey skin and… freckles?
He finally meets your eyes and you look away.
“How are you? I’ve learned from another human that your kind don’t always prefer being nude. Would you like me to bring you a robe of some kind?”
You nod. “But also…” You surprised yourself by speaking up.
“Also?”
“If possible… I’d like some kind of entertainment. Like books, or movies- film,” You corrected yourself, not knowing if they would understand “movies”. “Or I don’t know if you have internet.”
“We do a lot of reading. But because we spend so much time researching other galaxies and universes, we don’t particularly have… interest in film. That’s not to say I can’t get you access to a television and a variety of films and television programs. And yes, “internet”. We call it something else and use it for different purposes but they’re the same basic thing. I’ll also get you access to earth internet since ours would be useless to you.” He spoke and explained all while adjusting your nutrition and monitors. He looked at you again. “Anything else while I’m here?”
“Um…” Your mind wandered. There was no use asking for food since they had you hooked up to those bags all the time and the other “needs” you had were being experimented regularly, but still.
“Could I… use that thing again?” You shyly pointed to the machine with the alien penis that pumped into you last time. You grew more comfortable asking about it since you knew he was a scientist and wasn’t exactly attracted to you. Just doing a job.
He looked over at it and smirked. “You’re asking this time. Interesting. Are you one of the humans I’ve heard of that’s “hyper sexual”?”
You felt yourself blush and shrugged.
“Hmm. I suppose I could let you use it for fun. Would you mind if we observed you while you use it?”
“I guess not… what’s the research for?” Now that you’re actually thinking about it, you’re curious.
“Well, we’ve found that the female human body is the perfect incubator besides our artificial ones. We prefer an organic incubator so we use humans.”
“You can’t carry the… fetus? Eggs?”
“Eggs. Usually two.”
“Your females can’t carry them?”
He was silent and sighed. “If I went into any more detail, I’m afraid it would upset you. But what I can say is, our research shows that if we use copious amounts of pleasure instead of all the needles and things that earth births require, humans tend to carry healthier eggs and deliver them with less pain.”
You nodded as if you really understood everything he said.
“I promise you it’s not worth your human mind to think about. Just know that your species is not being harmed or genuinely affected by our actions. And that you’re safe. You personally won’t be used as an incubator. Especially if you ask not to be.”
“Wouldn’t you just use that aphrodisiac on me again and change my mind?”
“I could…” He looked at you seriously. “But I won’t. That is exclusively used for human pleasure.” He stepped away from your health monitors and touched the restraints hanging from your bed. “That said, do you still want to use the machine?”
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