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#bc this is the only correct dynamic
fugaciousgloom · 4 months
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I just realized that, even though qBrunim still thinks of qForever as his fiancé, qForever has been calling him his ex?? If I’m remembering that correctly??
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rystiel · 23 days
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i think it’s interesting to consider trans dean in relation to canon tbh. i mean john winchester is most definitely homophobic, but dean being trans would imply that he practices trans-inclusive toxic masculinity… like “you want to be a man, then act like one.” honestly i feel like he may be more inclined to let dean transition, because being a man in the field of hunting is something john probably views as beneficial
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markantonys · 8 months
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people are always splitting the trakand family dynamic into elayne vs. her brothers, but if you ask me it's actually more like
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evenstarfalls · 1 year
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This is what I want from Evervale in Victorious btw
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blue-madd · 2 months
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Made an AU for Ian and Naïl where they're called Jack and Eden bc why not
After the "barista x vet assistant" version, here's the "bass player x influencer" version~ (+ their lil apartment)
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Plot was so simple : influencer finds himself at a concert and compliments the bass player for his skills who instantly becomes obsessed w him and casually starts crashing at his place
Also the apartment was made based on inspo I found on Pinterest so really no original idea for this one (I have never been so uninspired lmao)
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acaiyatree · 1 year
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tbh in a the batman world the only version of babs that makes sense to exist is oracle <33
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hitsuyou-fukaketsu · 2 years
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Putting genshin impact in your dash
#content that caters to myself only#I JUST GREGRGGGRRR WHY ISNT ITTOSARA MORE POPULAR HHGRGRGRVRRRGRRR#they are rivals enemies friends childhood friends they banter in public#itto invites sara to everything but makes it look like a duel bc he IS SO EMBARRASSED#itto doesnt remember her from when they were younger#itto didnt lose his ambition bc when he lost his vision bc SARA GAVE HIM A NEW ONE#WHILE SARA WAS THE WHOLE STORY DOUBTING IF WHAT SHE WAS DOING WAS CORRECT BUT GULTYING HERSELF BC HOW COULD SHE DOUBT THE SHOGUN AND#AND SHE NEVER THOUGHT FOR HERSELF EVER AND SHE DOESNT HAVE FRIENDS AND THIS GUY IS TELLING HER TO NOT DIE ON THE BATTLEFIELD BC SHE OWES HI#A DUEL <- UGLY CRYING#sara refuses everything that makes her happy bc she thinks she is not worthy of that and thats why she refuses sweet things bc they relax#her and then she likes how the petals fall from the hanamizaka sakura and itto is from hanamizaka and#and they parallel iwakura and teruyo#and sara!!!! aaagghh sara sara sara#i love them both so much they mean so much to me#<- they have the same dynamic as every other ship i have#but aghhh do you see what i see#sara was adopted by humans while humans took away itto's parents but then sara grow cold and serious bc she only grew as a weapon for the#family (SHE IS OLDER THAN KAMAJI LIKE AAGAGHHGG) but itto grew warm and caring bc of granny oni#anyway do you know that rumored ayaka skin#i think it will be for kamaji's wedding#and theN sara will be there!!! in the kamaji wedding <- starves for sara content#sara when will be your hangout pls i want to take you on a dateeeeee sara always sad always unhappy what can i do to make you smile for me#also did you know kuki and heizou have the best hangouts of the whole game???#in both itto and sara both appear :')#in kuki is more itto leaned and you know how deep she cares about the arataki gang and#with heizou is kinda both ways but heizou truly admires her and cares for her even if their interactions seem kinda .. y know#sara isnt cold she is actually quite caring but she doesnt know how to show it bc she is emotionless#anddd aaa a aq a a a a this turned into a im in love with sara post#but yeah ittosara i love ittosara if you dont love ittosara why if you think ittosara shipers are lesbophobic why???#but yeah open your eyes see the content is right there ittosara has so much canon content UGH makes me sick they make me sick ugh they they
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weavingmemories · 2 years
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For the character bingo, hmm.... I'm gonna be predictable but not TOO predictable and ask for Yusuke, Futaba, and Mishima? ^^
yusuke:
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futaba:
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mishima:
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#robin rambles#i LOVE yusuke so much omg. his arc and its parallels with haru and akechi's particularly is so delicious#i really like how he goes through trying to process everything that happened to him re: madarame#i think about his and akechi's conversation in the thieves den about their respective fathers a lot and how they handle it very differently#i also just love his character so much. he's so silly so sweet and so precious#i could do with seeing more feral grin type yusukes but ... it's okay. their rarity makes them special#futaba has such a WONDERFUL arc and i loveeee her having a palace.#and what that introduces. your cognition can be totally distorted even if you're not a bad person#small slashes mostly because while i have no strong opinions against any ships#i just can't get invested in sh/utaba and su/mitaba ):#i do love yusuke & futaba together though#i also don't think it's wasted potential so much as i would have ADORED the fut/agoro half-siblings dynamic#augh i think about like. the fact that they really just could very well be related all the time#and mishima... MISHIMA my beloved#mostly half checked the 'i'm the only one who's correct' as a joke bc my sisters both can't stand him LOL#i really love mishima. his confidant is so cool. i love that he literally has a corruption arc in canon#and that you can go confront HIS shadow! whereas in most confidants it's like. someone else's that's harassing them#i also just have so much love in my heart for the fact that he and what he represents really saved the PT at the end#i'm always so upset that you can't be nicer to him. mishima rights!#thank you for the ask <3#answered#dangerousfantasist
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wandasfifthwife · 7 days
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your jealousy is showing (on me)✩‧₊˚
—> hockey player/coach!wanda x afab!reader
tw || SMUT MDNI, top wanda x bottom reader, dom/sub dynamics, established relationship, jealous wanda, exhibition (janitor closet), marking/impact play (hickeys, bruises, thigh spanking), fingering (r receiving), r gets hit on but is oblivious, tyler mention!, reader is said to be wearing a dress, person who hits on r sees the two of them, not proofread!
a/n || in such a slut for this woman. so sorry if my writing is nastier than coconut, idk how I feel about it haha but I hope you enjoy bc this made me hot and bothered tbh
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series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.3k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list
Practice has been going well, better even. There’s been an increase in number since people started to find out that wanda has experience on the ice as a player on a professional team. The stands have become packed, families and friends taking up every corner, a completely contrast from before. You remember the days when you first came with your nephew, sitting and having a seven feet distance from another person. Tyler’s since graduated from wanda’s class, now attending another with a different coach.
It was a sad day for him, hugging your girlfriend tight and exclaiming how he wishes to have her as a coach for every class. She had laughed, resting a hand on his back and reassured him that she’ll attend his other classes. She even went as far as to mention private classes, saying they can spend time together on the ice. A smile had come upon your face as you watched the two interact, thankful your nephew is able to have such a wonderful relation with his coach, your girlfriend.
Since then you’ve been attending his classes with Wanda. You can’t help yourself, curling a hand through her arm to hold her close. You complain that it’s the cold, but you both know it’s a shit excuse. Regardless, she’s never going to turn you down, if anything she’s pulling you tighter and pressing a kiss to your head.
“He’s improved a lot. Lately he’s been practicing outside his house with some friends on the street.”
“That’s probably the only reason why he’s able to skate in a straight row now. Do you think he’ll continue to play?”
“I think so. It’s all he talks about, but of course we can’t say definitive terms. He could fall out of love with it in a year and choose like baseball.”
“If he were to choose another sport it’d be football, not baseball. His favorite part of hockey is running into others, he forgets there’s an actual game going on.”
You stifle a laugh, “he’s trying.”
He proved Wanda’s words to be correct because the next second he’s slamming into one of the team members, pummeling the two into the wall. The coach had come to talk to you after, seeking you where you stood by the concession stand. You had a hand on Wanda’s arm, informing her of where you’ll be.
You were paying for the snack, thanking the person behind the counter. He had stood behind you just out of your line of sight, so just enough that you ran into him when turning around. His shirt smelled of sweat and his cologne, a lot of his cologne, so much so it overwhelmed you.
“Hey, you’re tyler’s mom, right?”
“No, just his aunt.”
“My bad. Sorry that was terribly rude of me, I was going to say you look good for your age.”
“Thank you, that’s very kind.”
“Of course,” he flashes a smile, leaning onto one of the tables beside him, “I’ve notice how often you come, it’s great that you’re supporting him like this. Most kid’s don’t have such a supportive aunt.”
“I try. My brother and his wife are busy, so I take over. He’s means well but he’s still a young teen.”
“Yes. He’s nothing new. A lot of teens enjoy the physical aspect to the game, it’s normal for them to be competitive even with each other.”
A few minutes have gone by, enough time for concern to begin swirling through Wanda’s mind. She’s relieved to see you’ve not gone missing and that you’re all in one piece, standing only a few feet from her.
“That’s my coach,” Tyler starts, seeing how Wanda’s attention was directed at the tow of you.
“I know,” she deadpans, turning her attention back on your nephew, “finish untying your shoes.”
“I know,” he mimics, tone lowering to frustrate her further.
You’re walking back over with a grin plastered on your face. Tyler’s already grabbing at the drink you got, pulling it from your hands to open it already.
“Just talked with your new coach, Tyler. It seems you have a track record with finding amazing coaches.”
Already Wanda didn’t like him. She kept quiet about her disdain, knowing how important it was to you that Tyler doesn’t come to contact with a terrible one as you had.
It grew difficult. Each practice he always seemed to find you, drawing out a long conversation with you. Usually it’s fine, as a coach herself she understands the important of keeping up with the families, but this was excessive. The constant parade of compliments directed at you were unnecessary. He wouldn’t really care to talk to Tyler, and as far as she knew, Wanda didn’t exist around him. He’s either dumb, or he’s choosing to be ignorant towards the intimacy between you two.
What brought her to the edge was when he began to touch you, a hand on your shoulder or the back of your waist. It was in moments where it could’ve been excused; done to either move you out of the way or make sure you don’t trip.
You were sweet, engaging in a conversation he had started yet again down at the end of the bleachers. Wanda had her attention set on Tyler skating around before practice, eyes flickering to where the two of you stood every minute.
“I have a conference this weekend and we’re allowed to bring a plus one. Would you be interested in joining me?”
“Oh. I already have someone that I’m going with. So I won’t be going with you, but I will see you there.”
He looks disappointed, eyes shooting to meet Wanda’s, “I’ll see you there then.”
Wanda doesn’t like that man.
You walk up the stairs all sweet-like, sitting beside her and placing a kiss to her cheek, “when’s that coach award event again?”
“Saturday, 7PM.”
You hum, leaning your head on her shoulder, “you better win an award.”
“If not, I have you.”
An elbow shoves into her side, “you’re such a sap.”
“No, I just love you,” she murmurs, pressing her lips against yours, feeling like she’s won when she catches the coach looking. She had hoped the soft public display of affection would be enough of a sign to back off, but it wasn’t.
The weekend came soon enough. Wanda standing by the door with her keys in hand as she waits for you to join her.
“Beautiful,” she says when you step down, opening the door for you.
“I hope you win one award, that would be amazing.”
“It would look great for my public imagine,”she laughs at the look you give her, “you know I don’t care about that, love.”She gives your thigh a squeeze before backing the car out of her apartment complex.
She should’ve known he’d be stuck to you most of the night. Wanda tries to engage in the conversation, but he tunes her out, keeping his attention on you. Ever so sweet you try to include her, smiling back at her but this time it’s not enough to quell how she’s feeling.
“Hey Micheal, can you go grab her another drink?”
“Wanda, I can’t—“
She shuts you up by pinching at your waist, cutting your sentence off. He looks mildly annoyed, “sure.”Once he’s turned around, she’s guiding you out of the room.
“Wanda there’s only like sixteen minutes until the ceremony—“ your mouth goes numb when you realize where she’s walking you towards. There’s a closet at the end of the hall, tiny and small as its only purpose is to hold supplies for the janitors. Tonight it will be used for another matter.
“That’s enough time,” she says lowly, shutting the door behind her, enclosing the two of you in darkness.
She’s lifting you with her hands under your thighs, dropping you down onto the extra school desk stored away in the room. Her body’s leans into you, hands on either side of your body as she kisses you passionately. They turn messy, trailing from the corner of your lips to end up on the bottom side of your neck. You gasp when she bites down, a hand reaching to push at her chest.
“Wan—wait.”
She doesn’t listen, too focused on making your neck show an array of purple marks. You whine, squirming in her hold as she leaves one after the other, stopping only on areas that you’re sensitive to. She’s severely quiet, attentive to every heavy breath and sound coming from you. You’re weak, arms wrapped around her neck, head pressed into the wall behind you. You’ve completely given up control, neck tilted back to give her more room.
“Oh—” you shiver when she moves towards the spot behind your neck. Your reaction gave her another reason to press her lips against it, nipping at the skin there.
Her ministrations leave you wet, your hips grind down onto the desk below you to try to seek relief. Wanda coos, cold fingers sliding under your dress, finding the wetness between your thighs. You cry out when she thrusts two in, pushing through your tight walls. It’s intoxicating, the wet sounds filling the room, turning you on even more.
“Ah! Wands—you—“
She’s shushing you, lips on yours to keep you quiet. Her fingers are splitting you open, angling perfectly towards the spot that makes your back arch. Her thumb catches onto your clit with each thrust, brushing perfectly to make you see white. You weave your fingers into her hair, moaning into her mouth when she bites at your bottom lip.
You’ve completely forgotten about the event, and most importantly, Michael. You’re clenching onto her finger, arousal covering her hand and dripping onto the wood below you. You choke on a moan when she’s guiding you to lift your left foot onto the desk, the position spreading you open to allow her fingers to push deeper. The bottom of your dress slips up, clothing pooling around your waist. You feel your orgasm build, a series of whimpers spilling from you.
“Fucking say my name when you come,” she demands, holding back moan when she hears your strangled whine after she brought her hand down onto your thigh. The way your cunt squeezes around her fingers then makes her weak.
“Like that?”
She’s cocky, hand coming down harder on that same spot.
“ah! wands please—“
Your body jerks after her fifth slap, mouth dropping open in a silent scream. She nuzzles against your head resting on her shoulder. You relaxed into her hole, breathing heavily as you come down from your high.
It was fine until wanda carried you into the bathrooms to clean off and you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, easily spotting the splotches painting your neck.
You leaned over the sink to get a better view, eyes snapping between the marks; the one by your ear, another under the strap of your dress, one more at the base of your neck. You weren’t aware of the severity of her actions in the moment, your mind was too busy trying to deal with the fuzziness spreading throughout your body.
“Was that okay,” she asks from where she stands by the entrance.
“Very,” you mumble, looking back to her with a smile.
“Hey, I want to apologize. I knew something was wrong,” you say, grabbing a paper towel from the machine, “he was a jerk to you. Like just earlier he wasn’t letting you get a word in, but I really just thought he was being nice at first.”
“You’re fine, love.”
You wet the towel, rubbing warm water over the cloth to get it wet, “you say that but I still feel bad.”
She crosses the room to grab at your wrist after seeing what you were doing, “why’re you trying to rub the marks off?”
“Because?”
She raises an eyebrow, “because? What?”
“This is your event, I don’t want you to loose your job over me.”
“I won’t,” she tosses the towel away, “I knew what I was doing when I gave you those.”
“But the staff—“
“There’s enough of them screwing around.”
“Oh.”
She huffs, hooking a finger under the hem of your dress, drawing it up your thigh until the red, swollen marks on your thighs from where she was aiming her hand earlier begin to show. You hate how affected you get by the sight of them, thighs squeezing together.
You were only meant to be gone for ten minutes. That was the original goal, but she began to fold with how you were looking at her. Your eyes were dark, locking onto hers from within the mirror. She had you pinned to the counter in seconds, forcing you to watch how easily you melt under her touch.
Footsteps echoed throughout the hallway, getting closer to where the two of you stood. You had begun to push back, mumbles on how she needs to stop so they don’t get caught, but it’s like she knew. You caught on later, realizing it was Micheal by the sound of his voice calling out to you.
“Wanda, he—“
She’s slapping a hand over your mouth, pulling you back against her chest. You look over your shoulder, finding Micheal freeze after entering into the room. Wanda had you in a position only he could dream of. He was like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as he processed what he was looking at. The marks on your body, eyes glossy and faraway even as you look in his direction. The muscles in Wanda’s arm flex as she presses her hand tighter against your mouth. You’re absolutely dripping, excitement pooling from the behavior this man was bringing out of her.
“I was worried… but I see you’re.. okay.”
“I see you’ve met my girlfriend, Micheal?”
series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.3k words˚╞══ ✩ wanida m.list
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katebishopshands · 27 days
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Can you do Kate Bishop and reader getting back from a long day of missions and get all cozy together then take starts teasing and it leads to the bedroom. Thank you <3
Teehee I like this one :)
I made reader a magic user because I never see the dynamic in any Kate fics :))
I <3 in universe Kate so much
(Tags: thigh riding, tit groping, slight nipple play, strapping, strap ons, Kate and reader are quite literally the defintion of switches, Kate bishops strap is purple and sparkly bc I said so, showering together ( non sexual, it’s actually really cute))
・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆ ・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・
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Call it what you want ✨
Kate Bishop/Reader
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Your whole body ached. You weren’t even sure how your feet were able to hold the weight of your body up as you stood waiting for Kate to open the door.
You’re sure the two of you looked ridiculous. Still in your hero suits, covered in cuts and bruises, probably smelling a little funky as well.
Thats one thing they don’t mention when you become anAvenger, it only looks glamorous when you’re receiving hero’s medals and keys to the city, attending charity events in gowns you could realistically never own. They don’t mention that you have to lug all your things back to your girlfriend’s dingy apartment and wait for her to unlock the door.
Kate’s fumbling with the keys, the gloves she wore to protect her fingers from her bow strings getting in the way. You give a slightly annoyed sigh as you gently take the keys from her hands being able to quickly find the correct key and unlock the door.
“Thanks!” Kate smiles at you. You returned her smile with a tired one of your own as you step through the door. You prop the door open for Kate with the arm closest, Kate hums appreciatively and ducks under your arm. You can’t help but snort at her a little as she gives you a kiss on the cheek while she passes you. She could’ve gone around you, but wanted to add a little flair and go underneath your arm. Sometimes what went on in her mind just flabbergasted you.
Lucky raises his head from his bed in the living room, giving you both a happy dog smile. You assume he can sense the fatigue coming off of the both of you because he stays put, resting his head back on his paws politely.
“Christ, that was rough” you say as you rub the back of your neck attempting to loosen some of the tight muscles there. Kate groans, dropping her bow and quiver. A few arrows skid across the kitchen floor, bow clattering on the checkered ground.
“Tell me about it, I don’t think I’ve even been nearly blown up that much in my whole life”
You look at your girlfriend’s form as she begins to unclip the utility belt that held all or trick arrowheads around her waist. She’s slightly covered in dust, it coats her usually pink cheeks in a fine layer. Parts of her suit are singed, a few scrapes cover her nose and chin. Somehow,despite everything, she still looks good.
Kate drops the utility belt on the floor next to her quiver and bow. She throws her head back, nose to the sky and gives a giant groan. You roll your eyes.
“I swear, if Sam would’ve just listened to my plan the whole thing would’ve gone way more smooth” she looks at you with watery blue eyes. You pout a little at her.
“Easy there Hawkeye,” you walk over to her, cradling her face in one of your hands. Kate leans her head into you and reciprocates your pout. “You’ll have your time, Sam can’t be the leader forever”
“I love him but he can be so stupid sometimes”
“Isn’t that how we feel about most bosses?”
“Touché” Kate shrugs and keeps her head in your hands. You roll your eyes at her and begin to trace her injuries with your other hand.
“We should get these cleaned up” you trace your thumb over a cut on her chin. She jumps and bit and winces.
“can’t you just cast a spell and make it better?” She bats her long lashes at you a couple times. Despite how many times you have told Kate, that’s not what you use magic for it can never get through her head.
“That’s now how it works Katie, and you know it” you smile at her, your hand drifting from her chin to hold her hand.
“But I hate the alcohol wipes” she pouts at you again. You actually almost feel bad for the archer. But you knew it was an act to get you to do some sort of magic for her. She was the most dramatic girl you’ve ever met.
You give her a kiss quickly.
“We need to shower.” Kate blurts. She’s rubbing your fingers with her thumb. It was your time to groan. She was right and you knew it, but the idea of taking off your suit sounded exhausting.
“Ugh but that takes so much effort”
“I’ll get out the fancy soap Laura gave me for my birthday last year”
Kate knows you can’t resist the temptation of the homemade lavender soap that Laura Barton had gifted her. Anytime Kate had showered with it and you had been around her, you were obsessed with it. Finding every excuse you could to press your nose into the crook of her neck to smell it on her warm skin.
“Sold” it was Kate’s turn to roll her eyes. She begins to drag you towards the small bathroom for the apartment. You’re dragging your feet, letting your socks glide across the smooth floor of her apartment. Kate giggles and pulls a little harder, pulling you into her.
Her back is against her bathroom door as she holds you against her. Her hands lay comfortably on your lower back as yours sit pressed against the front of her chest. You both say nothing, just looking at the other and smiling. After a day filled with almost dying, it was nice to just bask in each others presence.
Kate’s hands begin to wander downward, one hand giving a firm squeeze to your ass. You jump a little.
“Yknow we could…” she trails off, eyes glancing at your lips. Her other hand joins at your ass. You lightly hit her and scoff.
“Hey! You promised me fancy soap!” You pout at her. She throws her hands up in a surrender.
“Okay okay..I was just thinking..”
“Kate Bishop I am not banging you until you don’t have dried alien blood on you” Kate grimaces but fully surrenders as she opens the bathroom door. You follow her into the bathroom and begin to grab essentials for you both. A couple of clean towels, bathrobes for after.
While you’re doing that Kate fights with the shower temperature, it being too cold or too hot. Kate curses under her breath. You give her a look of pity before gently grabbing her hand and removing it from the faucet. You maintain eye contact with her as you use your magic to bring the water to the perfect temperature for you both. Her blue eye go soft and she smiles.
“You never cease to amaze me” she grabs your hand and pulls you into a kiss. A single kiss that turns into several small ones peppering your cheeks.
“I know I do, but the spell won’t last forever so let’s get in, yeah?” You pull the archers head away from your face, gently cradling her cheeks in your grime covered hands. She nods and begins to strip down. You help Kate out of her suit, being careful with it as you know how important it was to her. Kate returns the favor, carefully helping you out of your “wizard clothes” as you’ve so affectionately named them.
Kate massages your shoulders a little, placing a few kisses here and there as she helps you. You sigh in relief once everything is off. Feeling a million times lighter and less constricted.
“Fancy soap time?” she asks. You nod
“Fancy soap time” you confirm and step into her shower. Kate grabs a bar from the cabinet next to the sink. You can’t help but laugh a little at how pale her bare ass is. A couple freckles decorate across her lower back and her butt. It’s cute.
“Are you laughing at me?” Kate asks while standing up. You shake your head
“No” you lie.
“Whatever” she rolls her eyes and joins you in the shower.
You both take turns helping the other to wash up. Massaging over Kate’s sore back muscles with the soap. She leans her head back and sighs contented. You press a kiss to her shoulder as the warm water rains down on you both. It’s comforting to have help in the shower. Not trying to get in the others pants at the other moment. Just taking in the others presence, letting the warm water wash away the blood and grime from your assignment earlier.
You admire Kate’s muscles. Years of martial arts, gymnastics and archery had left her in fantastic shape. Sometimes it was confusing to you as to how you managed to pull her, but you would never have it any other way. Kate’s biceps flex as she squeezes some shampoo into her hands.
“Turn around, let me wash your hair” you oblige her and turn. Kate rakes her fingers through your hair, scrubbing at your scalp. You close your eyes as Kate works at your hair. Gently maneuvering you under the water to rinse the suds and then apply conditioner. You inhale the scent of her coconut shampoo mixing with the lavender from the soap. An odd combination but a combination that reeked of Kate.
Before you’d like it, Kate’s shutting the water off and exiting the shower. She wraps a towel around herself and then holds a large purple towel open for you to jump into. You let her wrap it around you before working with it to dry yourself off. Together you brush your teeth, wash your faces and take a comb through you hair in comfortable silence. That’s one thing you’ve always loved about being with Kate, is that she knows when to turn off her mouth when you really need to reset.
Once you’re both done kates sat in her bed tucked under the purple duvet. You’re shuffling through her vinyl collection, attempting to decide what to put on. You land on one of her well loved Taylor swift vinyls and put it on the turn table. The first few notes of the album begin to play and you turn to her.
You had left a pair of sweats at hers from sometime earlier when you had visited her, so you wore that and a sweatshirt of hers. It was some archery team sweatshirt from college, her last name “BISHOP” written in bold white letters across your back.
“Should we order something? Chinese….pizza?” Kate looks up from her phone, cocking an eyebrow at you.
“Ugh Kate you only want pizza because you live above a pizzeria” you hit her with a pillow as you sit down next to her. She laughs and shrugs.
“Okay okay, guilty, then what do you want?”
You spend a few minutes arguing over what you wanted to eat. Both of you hadn’t eaten since early that morning before your assignment. Eventually settling on something, you curled into Kate’s side. Both of you doing your own things on your phones. She fiddles with the ends of your damp hair absentmindedly.
You let your phone drop and sigh, staring at the wall. Kate ignores you and continues scrolling. Your fingers trace small circles on her stomach. She continues to ignore you. Another, louder sigh. Nothing.
You’re creeping your hands up her abdomen towards her sports bra clad chest. Your hand is sat on her boob, yet she’s still engrossed in scrolling.
You squeeze
Kate jumps in response. Looking away from her phone and down to you near her chest.
“The hell was that for?”
You bat your eyelashes a bit.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you feign innocence and you give another squeeze to her tit.
“Oh you’re asking for it” Kate sits up fully, grabbing under your armpits as she manhandles you to sit on her lap. You protest a little, trying to shove her away. You both laugh a bit. Kate grabs at your sides , and you jolt in her lap. Trying to squirm away from her you shove her face away as she leans in to kiss you.
“You seemed so eager for my attention a few minutes ago, and now you’re all shy?” Her face is mere inches away from your face. You can feel her breath fan across your face. Your head towards the bottom of her bed, Kate on her knees straddling across you.
“You were paying attention to only your phone” you jut out your bottom lip at her, feeling extra bratty.
“And so were you!”
“Nuh uh!” You cross your arms and avoid looking at her. You’re hoping it pushes her to initiate something. It does.
Kate grabs at your sides again. Pushing her warm hands under your sweatshirt to touch your bare skin. You could’ve sworn her fingertips were burning holes through your skin. She started kissing your neck, working her way up to your jaw and then eventually up to your lips. Kate guides your head back to a front facing position as her hands slide up your torso, hands making their way to your bare tits. She starts to knead at the flesh as she works at your mouth.
You groan into her, arching your chest into her eager hands. Your hands tug at the roots of her hair, still a little damp from the shower you took earlier. She smells like everything you could want from her. Her coconut shampoo, the lavender soap you love so much. No longer smelling like the battle you were engaged in for most of the day. She was back to just Kate. Not Hawkeye. Your Kate.
Kate pulls away from you, but continues to grope at you. She pinches your right nipple between her pointer finger and thumb. You press your chest upwards again, a small whine falling from your mouth. You lift your head up, attempting to kiss Kate again. She pulls her head back, opting to stare down at you with a smug smile on her face. Her eyes flick up and down your face, from your lips to your eyes.
“Paybacks a bitch isn’t it?” Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she wedges a knee between your legs. You were so incredibly fucked.
Upon contact you moan. Her knee colliding so perfectly with your sensitive core. You hadn’t even realized how worked up you had gotten from just a little teasing.
“Katie..” you do your best plead with her. You HAD started this whole thing by being a brat, and now you were getting consequences for it. She quirks an eyebrow at you. Kate stops groping you, pulling her hands entirely from your shirt. Her gaze goes soft as she sits up fully, keeping her knee between your legs. You grind down on it.
Locking eyes with Kate you do it again, making a show out of the moan that escapes your mouth. Your hands run up your torso, dragging the gray sweatshirt up your body. Kates eyes trail your body as your body becomes more and more exposed. You watch her breath get hitch as the fabric gets pulled over your breasts, leaving your chest bare infront of her.
You continue to rile her up, groping at your tits and humping onto her knee. A slew of pornographic and almost obnoxious moans falling from your mouth. Kate continues to not touch you, clearly enjoying watching you get yourself off on her knee a little too much. You watched her chest heave up and down with every breath she took, blue eyes dilating with every moan that left your mouth.
If you were being completely honest, you were putting on a show for her. The thick sweatpants you had on were getting in your way, with only a small amount of actual friction getting to your aching clit. Despite Kate’s burning stare and your own ministrations at your tits it wasn’t enough. Holding Kate’s eyes, you let your hands slide back down your bod, thumbs hooking around the waistband of your sweats. Kate swallows impatiently. You knew she had to be soaking at this point.
The way she licked her lips, the way her fingers twitched. This was torture. Clearly she hadn’t have thought this plan through as much as she thought. If she wasn’t going to help you through it, you were going to do it yourself.
You slide your sweats down your legs, carefully removing them before sitting up fully so you were finally sat on Kate’s toned thigh.
Kate slips her bottom lip inbetween her teeth as she feels your heat on her. Nothing but a black thong separating you two. You reassume your previous motions. Dragging your hips back and forth across Kate’s thigh you sling your arms over her shoulders, pressing your bare chest into her own. You play with the long black locks that fall down her back as you ride her thigh. The friction of her sports bra on your peaked nipples add a spark of pleasure through you. Your nose presses against hers, just barely grazing it. You let open mouthed moans hit her face.
Kate stays strong, resisting the urge to touch you. A flex of her thigh bumps against your clit and you whine.
“Fuck this” Kate’s resolve finally breaks. She had tried to be strong, teach you a lesson for being a brat but she just couldn’t. Not when you’re moaning into her mouth.
She grabs your hips, fully taking control of your speed. You don’t protest. You let Kate dominate the pace, quickly accelerating the once dull feeling of an oncoming orgasm. Kate crashes her lips onto yours, effectively swallowing any sounds that could’ve escaped your mouth.
Your hands move from behind Kate’s back to underneath her bra. You knead at her boobs, pinching at her nipples. She jerks away with a whine. You keep at it while Kate guides you on her thigh. Your motions are limited under the constriction of her sports bra so you grab the bottom of it, beginning to pull it off of her body. Kate’s hands leave your hips for a moment as she raised them above her head.
You yank the sports bra off her body and over her head, throwing it out of sight and out of mind . Your bare chests rub against each other as you continue to rut against Kate. Almost to your orgasm. Kate whines into you every time one of her stiff nipples rubs against your own, her own hips bucking into yours uncontrollably.
A gentle bite to your lip and a flex of Kate’s toned thigh sends you over the edge. You’re finishing in your underwear. Kate moans a bit as she feels your warm release coat her thigh. You’re leaning into her, forehead resting on her shoulder as you catch your breath. Kate rubs at your back, letting her nails give you light scratches. You sit silently as you both calm down for a second.
“You’re such a brat” Kate gives a playful pinch to your butt. You roll your eyes as you sit up to look at her.
“Brat or not, you benefitted from it.”
Kate turns her lips downward a little and looks up to consider something. She shrugs.
“Well..I didn’t finish so..did I really?” She’s smug with it. Are you brave enough to accept her offer and put her in her place? She wants to push your buttons as payback.
“Fuck you” you say standing.
“That’s what I’m trying to get you to do!” Kate laughs as she lays down again. She rolls over to check her phone for what time the food will be there. Something else is on your mind though.
Accepting Kate’s challenge.
You crouch by her bedside table, opening the drawer. You look over to Kate’s back. She doesn’t stir. After a little digging you find what you want.
A clear purple glittery strap on stares at you from Kate’s drawer. It’s her prized possession. You didn’t even want to know how much she had spent on it.
Using your magic, you silently lift it from the drawer and put it on. Letting the harness adjust itself to your measurements with your magic as to not alert Kate. You clear your throat, asking for Kate’s attention once more. She rolls over, eyes going wide at the sight of you wearing her strap.
“Jesus Christ.” It’s almost like you could see her head go blank. She lays there, eyes wide.
“You said you didn’t get to finish? Well let’s finish” you grin as you straddle yourself over her. You lean down to kiss Kate. Your girlfriend eagerly reciprocates as she juts her chin out to deepen the kiss. You groan a little as Kate’s hands dig into your hair, pulling at the roots. You detach from her lips as you make your way down her neck, sucking and leaving little love bites on her neck and chest. It was times like this where you thanked whatever higher power that was out there that your girlfriend dressed decently conservatively or else you’d both never hear the end of it from the rest of the Avengers.
Kate throws her head back as you grab at her tits, pinching a nipple between your thumb and pointer finger.
“Cmon..” Kate pants impatiently.
“Oh and I’m the brat?” You say slightly annoyed, pulling off of her.
“Fuck you” she responds with the same attitude. Kate grabs at your head, trying to bring you down for another kiss. You dodge her. Giving her a taste of her own medicine from earlier.
“No Katie, I’m fucking you” you grin at her as you tug her own sweatpants and underwear down her pale thighs . You can see that she’s soaked.
Kate was often generous in letting you finish and not finishing herself. Today was not one of those days. You guide the strap through her folds, wetting it and making sure to bump her sore clit. Kate jumps in response.
“Come,” bump “on”. She’s so impatient. You decide to oblige her, sinking the strap on into her cunt.
“Shit!” Kate curses. “You could’ve at least given me some warning!” Her blue eyes are wide as her hands search for something to grab onto. You grab one of them, giving a kiss to it.
“You told me to come on, so I did” you state plainly, batting your eyes a few times at her. You give a few experimental thrusts just to watch Kate squirm under you. Some slow, some fast and short, some long. Every thrust of your hips has Kate writhing. She squeezes her eyes closed as she gets used to the feeling of the strap inside of her.
“I am so getting you back for this” Kate retorts. You thrust into her hard enough to make her tits bounce. She moans, loud.
“Bold words for someone who’s got my dick shoved inside of her” you could’ve sworn you felt her squeeze around the silicone cock at your hips. She groans.
You stop.
“God, just shut up and fuck me” she grins at you as she leans upwards, you meet her halfway. You kiss her as you begin a steady rhythm into her. Kate smiles onto the kiss, her hands anchoring themselves into your hair.
The harness rubs perfectly at your own clit. Mixed with the pleasant feeling of Kate’s hands in your own hair you can feel your own arousal seeping down your thighs again as you fuck into Kate.
Kate’s whining underneath you as you thrust in and out of her, one hand going down to play with her clit. She gasps once she feels your hand down there.
“Shit I’m close” she’s breathless, her voice barely above a whisper. And honestly you are too. You were still relatively sensitive from riding Kate earlier so the friction of the harness was working you at a steady pace. You keep at the solid pace, pinching Kate’s clit in an effort to get her to her peak.
“You got it, doing so good” you praise her. And that’s what does it. Kate gushes as she receives your praise. She’s finishing on the silicone cock with a whine of your name.
You give a few desperate thrusts in an attempt to finish yourselves once more. You’re whining with desperation , rhythm thrown out the window as you chase your high.
You’re finishing again with a final thrust. Pulling out of Kate as quick as possible to not overstimulate her and make her uncomfortable. You shed yourself of the strap and your soiled underwear, joining Kate as you lay down.
You kiss her neck gently,rubbing at her sides. She wraps her arms around you and plants a kiss to the top of your head.
“Thanks uh…for letting me finish.” You can’t see her face, but you can feel Kate’s smile pressed against your head. Despite smelling like sex, her skin still smells like the soap you love so much. You her a kiss under her jaw.
“Of course, I couldn’t have left you hanging.” You smile at her. You can hear the record player still spinning. You had no idea when the record had stopped playing. You lay with your girlfriend for a few moments. You trace lines from freckle to freckle on her stomach. Another kiss is pressed to her bare chest.
“Do you think we’ll have to fight more aliens tomorrow?” She asks, looking at the ceiling.
“God I fucking hope not, I need to sleep for at least a day to rest up from today alone” you groan. You really had no more patience for intergalactic threats.
A buzzer rings, jolting you and Kate from your comfortable silence. The buzzer for Kate’s front door. The food was here. Lucky barks at the buzzer and you can hear his feet tap against the flooring on the lower level.
You and your girlfriend give a moan of annoyance, having just got comfortable. You sit up holding your fist out to her.
“I win, you go get the food and if you win, I get the food…best two out of three?” You smile expectantly at Kate.
Kate laughs at you and holds out her fist, ready to kick your ass in rock paper scissors.
・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆ ・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・
Back to my roots with the little one off fics !!!
Kate deserves to get strapped every now and then, I stand by it
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FOR SCIENCE | SUBJECT 3
In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...
Jake Lockley x afab!psychologist!reader (13.0k+)
RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: fetishization of mental disorders (DID), psychoanalysis, potentially unethical scientific practices, SMUT (dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f! and m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, doggystyle, spanking, mean!Jake, degradation, dacryphilia, daddy/papi kink, cum eating, creampie, soft sex, needy/touch-starved!Jake, praise kink, dirty talk), lots of spanish NOTES: jake lockley deserves so much love. this was hard to write, i had so much i wanted to put into this chapter and i hope it all came through okay. also, i am not a native spanish speaker, but i worked really hard to make sure all of my conjugations/phrases were correct, but still, feel free to correct me! this is the final case study installment of this series, there will be one final concluding chapter (+ potentially a bonus part bc i’m feeling generous) DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!
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CASE STUDY: JAKE LOCKLEY
ROLE IN COGNITIVE SYSTEM: Protector
ATTACHMENT STYLE: Dismissive
CHARACTERISTICS: volatile, tenacious, arrogant, cunning, reticent; a true adrenaline junkie (engages in risky behavior in an attempt to fill his emotional deficit with a brief but intense adrenaline rush); extremely autonomous.
SPLIT FROM HOST: ??? currently unknown/unconfirmed (predicted to have emerged as a result of some feeling of physical inadequacy or repeated threats to safety; may potentially trace back to host's service in the military).
TRAUMA RESPONSE: thinks every hill is one to die on; unwilling to compromise or make sacrifices in fear of revealing vulnerability; maintains face no matter the consequence.
SEXUAL PRESENTATION: demanding, excitable, impetuous, unapologetic, aggressive; unafraid to take what he wants, but uncomfortable with affection.
Your heart was picking up speed as you knocked loudly against the door for the fifth time.
Surely he was inside. Where the hell else would he be? You’d texted with him just hours before—well, technically not Jake, since he refused to use a phone, but Marc—confirming that you were still good for your previously scheduled arrangement. Had he changed his mind? Did something happen?
Your anxiety got the better of you as you fished around in your jacket pocket to pull out your keyring. Steven had given you a copy of the key to their flat in case you ever needed it, or if you wanted to come over before he got home from work. You had yet to actually use it, but you figured this constituted as enough of an emergency to warrant your uninvited entrance.
You clumsily slipped the brass into the keyhole and jiggled it, twisting it until you heard the click of the lock. You silently prayed that Jake—or whoever was fronting—hadn’t engaged any of the other locks on the door that could only be unhinged from the inside. Fortunately for you, the knob twisted and the door swung open with ease, revealing the familiarity of the flat within.
It was... quiet. Not eerily so, but enough to make you proceed with caution. Everything appeared to be in order, undisturbed and in its place, but still, you felt a sense of uneasiness crawl up your spine.
You weren’t a stranger to the feeling, though. You often felt this way when you were in the company of Jake. You enjoyed his presence, and wanted to get to know him better, but still, he was unpredictable and volatile—you never knew what to expect when he was fronting. You couldn’t read him as well as the other two alters, and as someone who had an affinity for picking up on unspoken emotional cues, you weren't particularly fond of the element of surprise.
You heard a low buzz from somewhere off to your right, and as the door clicked shut behind you, you wandered towards the source of the noise on the other side of the apartment. As you grew closer, you recognized the previously indiscernible sound—humming.
“...Jake?”
You called out softly, and just as rounded the edge of the bookshelf that separated the living space from the bedroom, the door to the bathroom flew open.
The man in question strolled through the doorway, steam billowing behind him, whistling to himself, but he froze when he saw you standing before him. He quickly recovered from his initial shock, however.
“Bebita. Looks like you need to work on your patience.”
He teased, and you felt your mouth run dry as you took in his appearance. He’d clearly just finished up in the shower—there were still droplets of water rolling down his shoulders and the toned skin of his chest and abdomen, trailing southbound where a white towel hung lowly on his hips. You could see the dark hair of his happy trail against his navel, the towel very loosely covering his modesty. His hair was wet and tussled, curls falling across his forehead, and you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t one of the most attractive sights you’d ever seen in your life.
Much to your chagrin, he seemed to pick up on the effect that his appearance had on you. You watched as his lips curled into a devilish grin, staring at you with a depraved look in his deep brown eyes that only Jake was capable of.
“Why—Why didn’t you answer the door?”
Your voice wavered slightly, betraying you in your attempt to appear collected. His head tilted slightly in question.
“Because...I was in the shower.”
Oh. Right.
You swallowed, lips downturned into a small frown, suddenly feeling sheepish at your previous concern for his safety. However, your focus returned to Jake as he slinked forward, taking a few slow, deliberate steps in your direction.
“You’re blushing, mi vida. Am I making you nervous?”
You unconsciously shook your head at his question, although you could feel your heart racing in your chest as he drew closer to you.
“No? Hm, that’s a shame. I could’ve sworn I saw you staring at my cock.”
He paused when only a foot and a half remained between you, and you felt your face grow even redder at his statement. As much as you tried to resist, as much as you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, your gaze involuntarily flickered down to glance at his crotch—you could see the outline of his hardening member through the soft material of the towel, more prominent than it had been even a few seconds prior.
A dark chuckle escaped him, and you forced your gaze back onto his face. He was grinning wickedly, gazing at you with a carnal gleam in his eye.
“Está bien, bebita. I know how much you like it. That’s why you rushed in here, isn’t it? Didn’t want to wait for papi’s cock any longer?”
Your breath hitched in your throat. Your jaw fell slack at the nickname he assigned to himself—you felt your knees grow weak. Just as you’d said—unpredictable. You certainly hadn’t expected that.
But fuck, you really liked it.
His smirk turned into a toothy grin as he observed your reaction to his taunt. One more step towards you and you were only a short distance apart. You could see moisture congregating in the divot of his collarbone, and you desperately wanted to lick at the pooled water.
“Are you going to be good for me, bebita?”
You nodded dumbly at him, any cohesive thought escaping from your brain as all you could perceive was Jake, Jake, Jake. He parroted your senseless nodding, mocking you condescendingly. Without another word, he dropped the towel from his waist and it pooled around his ankles, exposing his fully-erect member to your sight, and you swooned.
His tongue traced over his lower lip sensually, looking at you through hooded eyes. A shadow crossed his face as his mouth contorted into a sneer.
“Get on your knees.”
You obeyed before you even consciously processed the command, collapsing onto your knees before him, your abrupt fall cushioned by his discarded towel. Your mouth watered as you became eye-level with the hardness of his cock, the vein beneath the underside of his shaft just begging for your attention. You resisted, instead opting to stare up at Jake’s face expectantly, awaiting further instruction. It was clear to you that he liked to be in control.
He smirked at your complacency, his hand reaching up to lazily stroke his cock a few times, watching the way your eyes followed the movement of his hands with laser focus, your lips slightly parted in anticipation. He tilted his hips forward and slapped your cheeks with the ruddy head of his cock a few times, and you whimpered at the action, eyes squeezed shut tightly with restraint.
“Stick out your tongue for me, bebita.”
You obliged, opening your mouth wide and letting your tongue loll out past your lips. He tapped his length against the slick muscle, and you savored the familiar tang of his precum on your tastebuds as he pulled back to fist at his cock again. You whined as he withdrew from you, but he just tutted at you condescendingly, slapping your cheek once more with his member.
“Oh, pobrecita. You want papi to let you play with his cock?”
You nodded feverishly, staring up at him through your lashes, doe-eyed. He pouted his lip out in a look of mock pity before removing his hand from his length.
“Go on, then, bebita.”
You lurched forward, your tongue flexing to lick a long stripe on the underside of his cock, tracing the jagged vein that had enticed you earlier. He hummed at the action, watching as you eagerly lifted your hands to begin slowly pumping the velvety skin of his shaft, your lips suctioning around the flushed tip and tongue dipping into the slit. A low groan rumbled deep within his chest as you bobbed your head, eyes never leaving his face as you studied each reaction he had to your movements.
“There you go, mi vida. So good for papi.”
You moaned around his cock at the repeated use of the title, and he chuckled at your obvious approval, one hand finally reaching up to card through your hair as you continued to work more of his length into your mouth.
“You gonna let papi fuck your pretty little mouth, hm?”
He pulled his hips back, removing his member from your touch and you gasped in a breath. You nodded in response to his question, opening your mouth expectantly, and he all but laughed at your eagerness.
“You want it bad, huh, bebita? You gonna ask nicely?”
“Please, papi.”
The word sounded foreign on your tongue, but your discomfort melted away when you saw Jake’s cock jump at the sound of your desperate pleading and he threw his head back in satisfaction.
“Please, fuck my face. Want to feel you in my throat. Please.”
He seemed satisfied with your begging as he wrapped both of his hands in your hair, tilting your head upward and guiding your towards his awaiting length. When your hands reached up to rest on his thighs, he pulled back, hissing at you.
“No, mi vida. Hands behind your back. Don’t make me tell you again.”
You clasped your hands behind yourself obediently, opening your mouth again, and you finally felt the fat tip of his cock rest against your tongue.
You practically choked when he harshly thrusted into your mouth, sinking nearly his entire length into your throat without warning. Before you could even recover, he was pulling back and repeating the motion, not giving you any time to adjust to the intrusion or ease you into a rhythm. You gagged unceremoniously as he fucked your face with reckless abandon, so you tried to slacken your jaw and just take it.
“Look at you, mi llorica. So beautiful when you cry for me, with my cock in your mouth.”
You could barely see him through the blur of tears as they rolled down your cheeks, mixing with the saliva that was foaming around your lips and dribbling down your chin. He picked up his pace, grunting with each motion, the head of his cock bruising the back of your throat with every forward thrust. He was guiding your head forward and backward in time with his movements, successfully burying himself into your face.
“You want me to cum down your throat, bebita? Going to take everything papi gives you?”
You garbled around his length as his balls slapped against your chin, and you felt his cock throb on your tongue as he sheathed himself completely inside of you, growling out your name as he shot his load as deep into your throat as he could. Still, he challenged you more, forcing himself further and further down your throat with each spurt of cum that he released, your nose smushed against his pubic bone as you swallowed around him, trying with all of your might to prevent yourself from gagging and ruining his orgasm.
With a satisfied groan, he slowly pulled his spent member from your mouth, and you gasped harshly, sucking in a deep breath of air and finally allowing the muscles of your neck to relax. There was a soreness lingering in the back of your throat, but you relished in the feeling as you wiped the mix of spit and tears from your face with the back of your hand, staring up at the fucked-out expression that Jake offered you.
“Did so well for me, bebita. What do you say to papi?”
There was an edge to his tone, his domineering persona not faltering for even a second as your scratchy voice responded accordingly.
“Thank you, papi.”
He nodded at you approvingly, watching as you blinked up at him expectantly. He was pleasantly surprised at just how quickly you’d fallen into submission—he thought he might have to coax you into cooperating with him, but it was clear to him that you were eager to please, your eyes glistening with residual tears from one of the best goddamned blowjobs he’d ever had in his life.
He leaned down and clasped his hands on your shoulders, yanking you to your feet without a word. You saw his eyes flicker down to your swollen, spit-soaked lips, but his gaze was hard as he took a step away from you, as if to resist the temptation to kiss you.
“Strip. Hands and knees, on the bed for me. Now, bebita.”
You didn’t protest as you hastily heeded his words, shedding your layers of clothing and tossing them to the floor before you scampered back towards the bed, crawling to your hands and knees in the center, head facing towards the pillows. You could hear Jake creeping up behind you, but you resisted the urge to turn your head and follow his movements, opting instead to squeeze your eyes shut and wait.
You weren’t afraid of Jake. Of course you weren’t. You knew he’d never hurt you—not unless you wanted him to. Nonetheless, you knew what he was capable of—actually, that was the thing. You didn’t know what he was capable of, but still, you could see the thinly-veiled chaos that swirled behind his coffee-colored irises, could sense the firm restraint he forced upon himself when he was around you, holding some unnamed beast at bay on your behalf. It scared you, but also sparked something inside of you—a primitive, savage excitement as he stalked you like his prey. Was it wrong if you secretly hoped he’d unleash the mayhem that resided within him, let himself go? God only knows the man deserved an outlet in which to channel his frustrations.
You felt the mattress dip down behind you, Jake kneeling on the bed behind your bowed position—your nerves spiked at the vulnerability you displayed, exposed as you practically felt his eyes tear through your body with crazed, wanton desire.
You were surprised to feel a soft caress on your hips, his rough fingers delicately ghosting over the supple skin on your waist. It was comforting, soothing, and surprising—a needed reassurance under his scrutinizing gaze. You felt his lips brush softly against the tender flesh of your left buttock, and you relaxed slightly, letting yourself sink down to your forearms but keeping your ass raised with the arching of your back.
“Are you ready, mi vida?”
He asked quietly, and you managed to squeak out a small ‘yes’ before sinking further into the bed and shifting your hips backs toward him in anticipation. He chuckled at your obvious eagerness, greedy for his touch, and you startled when his tender hold on your hips tightened into a bruising grip, the soft press of his lip to your left asscheek morphing until he was sinking his teeth into the flesh with a playful nip.
You yelped at the abrupt shift in demeanor, the sound earning you a sharp smack to your other cheek, his palm quickly rubbing the afflicted area to soothe the lingering sting of his spanking. You pressed your forehead into the sheet beneath you, your legs beginning to quiver with desperation.
“You’re going to stay like this, and take what I give you. Don’t move. ¿Vale, bebita?”
You nodded, but were met with another harsh swat on your backside at your lack of a verbal confirmation.
“Yes! Okay, papi, okay. Just—please.”
You were practically dripping onto the mattress beneath you, your arousal slickening your needy cunt as you desperately sought out any stimulation.
The pads of his fingers experimentally swiped through your folds without warning, and you jolted, involuntarily pushing your hips back to follow the withdrawal of his touch. Another firm slap against your opposite asscheek, a whimper escaping your lips as he scolded you.
“Stay still, bebita. Stop squirming.”
His order briefly brought you back to your first time with Marc, who had requested the same thing, but the words felt heavier when they were uttered by Jake—you knew he wouldn’t hesitate to find a way to make you comply.
When his fingers made contact with your core again, you clenched your muscles, forcing yourself to remain completely motionless, and you were rewarded with the tip of his digit just barely skimming over your clit. You whined at the sensation, but held your position.
Jake was pleased with your cooperation, but you couldn’t help but quake when you felt his tongue sweep through your folds to taste you. The spank he offered was softer, taking pity on you as he leaned forward and fully sank his mouth into your awaiting cunt. You mewled, fingers twisting into the fabric of the sheets beneath you and fisting at them tightly in an effort to keep still.
He was moaning shamelessly into your sex, his method tactless, sloppy and rushed. His movements weren’t practiced and deliberate like Marc’s, nor careful and precise like Steven’s—no, Jake was eating you out like a man starved, greedily mouthing at every part of you and reveling in the sounds that escaped your lips.
His hand lifted and he sank two fingers into your entrance, curling them forward frantically as his mouth latched onto your clit. He was working you to your orgasm quickly, hurriedly, desperate to feel you clamp down around him and cry out his name.
Your thighs were beginning to tremble. He must’ve sensed you were close, because he doubled his efforts, the vibrations from his growling buzzing through your flesh and pushing you over the precipice. On its own accord, your body lurched back towards him, your cunt grinding back against his face as your eyes rolled, your walls contracting around his digits and your juices leaking onto his awaiting tongue.
You felt dizzy, faint, your efforts to hold yourself upright through your climax exhausted you, and when you came down from your intense high, you felt Jake draw himself away from you, slow and intimidating. You felt your pulse spike as you awaited whatever came next. His large hand caressed your ass, gently smoothing over your soft flesh in back-and-forth motions.
“Sabe a miel, bebita. Such a pretty little pussy.”
His touch on your skin halted, and you felt his body lean over your back, his lips coming to brush against the nape of your neck.
“But you didn’t follow my instructions, pobrecita. You need to learn how to listen.”
You cried out when his hand swatted at your abused clit, your body jumping at the painful sensation in an attempt to escape his cruel attack. You felt one arm snake beneath your stomach to hold you upright, his forearm pressing your hips back towards him and keeping you there.
“I let you cum, even after you moved when I told you not to. Do you like being a brat, hm?”
You shook your head—another smack to your cunt, and you whimpered.
“No! No, m’sorry, papi, I—”
“Don’t you think I’ve been generous? Spoiling you? And still, you’re ungrateful, bebita.”
Your body flinched in preparation for the next blow, but instead, you felt his lips tenderly brush a kiss to the flesh of your ass.
“Compórtate. I think I need to teach you how to mind your manners.”
He slapped your ass again, harder than before, and you could feel the lingering sting forming a welt across your skin. He hummed.
“What do you say to papi, hm? For being so good to you?”
“Thank you, papi.”
You whimpered, tears starting to dampen the sheets beneath your face. Your appreciation earned you a soothing hand across the flesh he'd just struck.
“That’s right. Five more times, bebita.”
You sobbed in protest, body trying to pull away from him, but his arm wrapped around your torso forced you into place. He cooed at you.
“It’s okay, pobrecita. You’re going to say thank you after every single one, and then papi will fuck you. ¿Sí?”
He didn’t wait for your response. He smacked your clit, the sting burning its way through your lower belly. You choked back another sob.
“Th—thank you, papi.”
You stuttered, voice barely audible from where your cheek was smushed into the bedding, but Jake took pity on you. Two, three, four more times—the final blow landed sharply against your cunt, and you whimpered out your gratitude, eyes squeezed shut tight and your lip starting to freckle with blood from where you’d held it between your teeth.
He placed gentle kisses on your lower back, your ass, as far as he could reach, his arm still supporting your weight while the other came to softly smooth over your hip. Your mind was cloudy, your body completely surrendering to Jake’s will as you descended into subspace, clinging to his approval.
“You want my cock, mi vida?”
He asked gruffly, and you could feel his hardened length prod against your behind as he leaned further over you to press more kisses on your shoulders. You whined.
“Yes, papi, please, want you inside me, please—”
He shushed you calmly, sitting back to kneel behind you. He lifted your hips higher in the air with his arm, and you felt the flushed head of his cock brush across your soaked folds once, then twice. You mewled.
Without warning, Jake sank into you, bottoming out with one harsh stroke as his balls pressed against your puffy clit. You cried out, legs turning to jelly and giving out from beneath you, but he held you upright, keeping you stable in his arms.
“Mierda. Your little cunt is swallowing me, bebita.”
He withdrew slowly, and you could feel each ridge of his length as he pulled out until just the tip remained. Even though you braced yourself, you couldn’t prepare for the way he slammed back into you, his pelvis flush against your tailbone as you cried, pleasure sparking at the bottom of your spine in spite of the pain.
Jake’s pace was relentless, unforgiving, hips snapping forward over and over, the sound of skin slapping skin drowned out by your pathetic sobbing as your walls throbbed around his member. His teeth were bared as he railed into you, intently watching the place his cock was splitting you open.
“Carajo, you’re squeezing me so tight—going to cum for you, bebita.”
He practically growled as he speared you, and another orgasm was ripped from you with a particularly harsh thrust of his hips. Your cunt clamped down around him as he let out a long, low whine, hips stuttering at the sensation.
He let you collapse into the bed as he began frantically jerking his cock, pulling out of you just in time to shoot his load all across the reddening flesh of your ass. He let out a series of grunts, coupled with Spanglish expletives as he thrusted into his fist, his head thrown back in bliss. You felt globs of his hot spend settle onto your skin, streaking your backside with his seed as he panted above you, falling back onto his heels as he drank in the aftermath of his intense orgasm that was now painting your skin.
The moments that followed blurred together as you drifted aimlessly in the wakes of your pleasure, eyes fluttering in their attempt to keep you awake. Jake left you for several minutes, the absence of his body heat making goosebumps erupt across your skin, but you were too exhausted to move.
When he finally returned, you felt him softly dab the remnants of his ejaculate from your back before he gently shifted you onto your back, tucking an arm beneath your knees and the other around your shoulders as he hoisted you into the air. You whimpered slightly at the soreness in your muscles, your head falling limp against his bare shoulder as he carried you off. You weren’t consciously aware of your surroundings, but the sensation of warm water surrounding you helped ease the ache in your bones and clear the haze that had overtaken your mind. Jake gently lowered you into the bathtub, carefully tilting your head back to rest against the ceramic edge as you let out a relieved sigh, sinking into the welcoming heat of the water.
You felt as if you’d only blinked when you awoke, the water around you now lukewarm and the candle that had been burning beside you melted to the wick. You shifted yourself upward, hissing slightly at the soreness in your thighs, but you forced yourself to stand and exit the tub.
Silence surrounded you as you leaned to pull the plug from the drain before you noticed the plush white towel that had been folded neatly and left on the lid of the toilet for you. You gratefully reached it and wrapped it around your body, noticing the pruning of your fingertips.
How long had you been asleep?
You tentatively creaked open the bathroom door and peered outside into the apartment. It was dark, and empty, for all you could see, and you took a few cautious steps out into the room.
“Jake?”
You said softly, your soft call sounding much too loud in the quiet of the space. You proceeded forward towards the bed, shrouded only in light from the single lamp that was lit from across the way. Your clothes had been folded neatly and left in a pile at the foot of the bed, and you saw a small piece of paper settled on top. A note.
You picked it up and scanned it over once, then twice. You could tell this was Jake’s handwriting—it was a messy scrawl with an evident slant, the letters each written harshly with sharp lines. It was different from Steven’s languid scribbling, his words swirling together with smooth, clean strokes, and also from Marc’s, whose blocky penmanship was unmistakable. You couldn’t marvel at the fact that all three alters had markedly distinct handwriting, though, too focused on the content of the message to give it a second thought.
Went out for a drive Text when you get home See you tomorrow.
JAKE
You frowned slightly, heart feeling heavy in your chest as you forced yourself into your clothes. You checked the time—11:28. You’d conked out for nearly two hours, and you wondered how long ago Jake had stepped out. Was he waiting for your text in order to come back home? Waiting for you to leave so he didn’t have to see you?
You had absolutely no right to be upset, you knew. You should be grateful that he was sticking to his ordinary routine after your sexual encounter in honor of your experiment, but still, a pang of hurt bloomed in your chest. You briefly returned to the bathroom to blow out the flickering lavender candle before heading out the door, your legs wobbly as you trekked the two blocks back to your own apartment.
It was nearly midnight when you finally got home. You reached for your phone and shot the boys a brief message.
made it back safely x
A response came in barely thirty seconds later.
I'm so sorry Y/N He shouldn't have done this to you M
You fell into your bed immediately, eyes skimming Marc’s words, your lips pursing slightly. You let out a long sigh before typing your reply.
it's ok marc, i promise he didn’t do anything wrong i had a nice bath! :) tell jake i said goodnight xx
You connected your phone to the charger before setting it on the nightstand, quickly turning over and sinking into your pillow, trying to ignore the tears that were stinging the back of your eyes.
Your phone buzzed with a final message.
Sleep well baby Hope you give him hell tomorrow M
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POINTS OF CONTENTION:
- slowing down
- embracing vulnerability and confiding in others
- accepting intimacy and allowing raw emotion
TREATMENT: - patience, foreplay - allowing himself to feel - aftercare (!)
You were, in fact, not going to give him Hell. Just the opposite, actually.
Jake spent too much of his time letting his demons possess him. Perhaps he needed a little taste of Heaven to show him what he's missing.
“Hi, Jake.”
You greeted shyly when the door swung inward. He leaned against the doorframe slightly, looking at you down the length of his nose. He didn’t say anything—just watched you. Studied you. Observing. After a few brief moments, you cleared your throat.
“Can I—uh, can I come in?”
A beat passed before he finally sidled back into the apartment, opening the door just enough to let you slip inside. Your side brushed against his front when you passed him, and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke clung to his white shirt. Oh, Steven would be livid.
You didn’t wait for an invitation before plopping down on one end of the sofa. Jake quirked a brow at your forwardness, and you signaled with the jerk of your head for him to join you on the other end. He offered a slow, dramatic roll of his eyes before seating himself beside you.
“What time did you get home last night?”
You asked quietly, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you avoided his gaze. He breathed out a slow breath.
“Not too late. Hardly slept, though—your boyfriend wasn’t very happy with me. Kept me up all night, nagging at me.”
You frowned, finally noticing the deep purplish bags that had settled beneath his eyes. His curls were spilling out from beneath the brim of his flat cap.
“I’m sorry, Jake. Marc isn’t s’posed to be bothering you—it’s your weekend.”
He waved a dismissive hand, turning to settle further into the couch as he stared at some point straight ahead of him.
“No pasa nada. I’m used to it.”
He shifted in his seat slightly, his brows furrowing, and you could tell that he was receiving an earful from Marc.
“I’m—I guess I’m sorry, mi vida, if I upset you.”
You shook your head derisively.
“No, Jake, it’s—you’re fine. That’s what I asked you to do—treat me like any other girl.”
He let out a humorless bark of a laugh, knuckles rubbing over the stubbled skin of his jaw.
“Any other girl wouldn’t have gotten to see my bed, bebita.”
He noticed the perplexed look on your face and offered a sigh.
“It’s not...often, that I sleep with anyone like this. Usually it’s in the back of my cab, or a quick one in a closet—tienes suerte, mi vida. It’s rare they ever see me a second time.”
You felt a deep sadness wash over you at his confession. All Jake knew were rushed, meaningless hookups, no strings attached and no obligations. One and done.
“Is that why you didn’t kiss me, yesterday?”
Jake looked startled by your question, eyes widening marginally as his brows furrowed deeply. His lips set into a straight line, his jaw clenching tightly.
“I did kiss you. A lot.”
He insisted softly. You shook your head.
“No, Jake. A real kiss. You wouldn’t do it. Are—Is that not usually a part of your... you know?”
His knee began anxiously bouncing, his discomfort making itself evident to you.
“No sé. Never really thought about it before.”
You stood from the couch, and his stare followed your movements sharply as you crossed the short distance between you, stepping forward to stand between his spread legs. He looked up at you with dark, brooding eyes, uncertainty churning just beneath the surface. You slowly moved to sit on his lap, your thighs slotting on either side of his hips so you were straddling him. His hands mindlessly settled on your waist, his touch timid and delicate. Your fingers smoothed over his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Can I kiss you, Jake?”
His lips silently parted, a flash of fear briefly flickering over his features as he gazed up at you longingly. His nervousness was palpable, his hesitancy evident through the tension in his shoulders and the crease between his brow. He didn’t offer you a response, so you carefully began leaning your face towards him, tilting your head so your nose brushed against his. You felt his stuttering exhale fan out across your face before you finally let your lips brush over his own.
It was soft, and tentative, as if he was unsure of how to respond or worried he would somehow break you. You pressed your mouth a bit firmer to his, melding against him. You wished, hoped he could feel all your emotions come through the kiss—how much you cared for him, how much you wanted to show him that. Maybe your manifestation worked, because after his few fleeting seconds of unresponsiveness, you felt him sink into the feeling, one arm traveling from your waist up your back to cradle the back of your head in his hand.
He shifted beneath you, trying to pull you closer, as if you weren’t already on top of him. You could feel the stiffness vacate his muscles as the kiss grew feverish, desperate, his lips moving against yours hastily and messily. His free hand began to roam the expanse of your back as he pressed his torso into your own, your nose smushing against his cheek as he gripped you tighter.
He whined when your tongue swiped across the seam of his mouth, his lips immediately parting to allow you access. You dove in to taste him, the stale tobacco and faint mint of his toothpaste overtaking your senses and inebriating you with the distinctive flavor of Jake. His own tongue began to tussle with yours as he mirrored your actions, your teeth clashing messily as he all but tried to swallow you whole.
You pulled back abruptly, gasping in a breath, and his mouth chased yours in a frantic attempt to maintain contact. You felt his hips instinctually rut up against you, his hands still pulling you tightly against his body as he nuzzled into your neck, inhaling the scent of your soft skin.
“Slow down, Jake, take it easy.”
You placed both of your hands on either one of his shoulders and forced him to relax against the couch, his body following your guidance as he sank backwards at your request. His eyes were practically crazed, his lips swollen and ruddy as he looked up at you with a half-lidded gaze, chest heaving with panted breaths.
“Oh, hermosa.”
His muttered, his grip pulling you back to his chest as he surged forward to hungrily meet your lips again, his hands beginning to claw over every inch of your body he could reach, trying to feel all of you. You pushed him away again, more forcefully this time, and he fell backwards with a grunt.
“Hey, relax. It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
A flicker of sadness glinted briefly in his dark eyes, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it expression, but you caught it. You offered him a soft, assuring smile, grabbing the hat from his head and tossing it to the side so you could sink your fingers into his hair. He leaned back into your touch as your nails gently scratched at his scalp, a soft, breathless moan breaking from his lips as his eyes fell shut. You leaned forward and pressed a single kiss to the exposed skin of his throat.
“Come on, handsome.”
He was reluctant to loosen his hold on you, but you reached for his hand and clutched his fingers tightly so he could still feel you touching him somewhere. You led him over to the bed, pausing at the foot of it and gesturing with a nod of your head for him to lay down. He quirked a brow at you, lips curling into a mischievous grin.
“You going to punish me for being so hard on you yesterday, bebita?”
You weren’t oblivious to the excitement that shone in his eyes—he seemed enticed by the possibility of you torturing him in a similar vein to Marc, and you figured that was some information you could keep in your back pocket for future reference.
Instead, you let out a saccharine giggle—it was sickeningly sweet, cloyingly so, and Jake might’ve gotten a toothache from the sugar if it weren’t for the softness with which you crept over his splayed-out body, sinking your front against his as you pressed a featherlight peck on his lips.
“No, Jake. Nothing like that.”
You let your weight settle onto him, straddling his lap and letting your chest fall flush against his as you kissed him again—he mouthed at you hungrily, trying to force his tongue into your mouth, fighting for dominance, and you gently pulled away.
“Hey, tough guy. What’s your rush?”
His brows furrowed, gaze flickering from your eyes and down to your dewy lips, his pupils blown wide. You smiled sweetly at him.
“Slow down, okay? There’s no hurry, really. Let me just feel you.”
He blew out a huff of air before your lips were on his again, and he heeded your request, letting you take the lead as your poured all of your passion into the kiss. It was slow, deep, intimate, your fingers sliding beneath the hem of his shirt and across the hot skin of his torso, pushing the material up as you went. You slowly drew back to discard the article of clothing before immediately latching your mouth to his, slow movements still heavy and dripping with desire. You finally parted his lips with the swipe of your tongue, and you felt his fingers sink into your hair, tilting his head for a better angle with which to lavish you.
You could feel him getting greedier as he pressed his body up into your warmth, hands sliding down the expanse of your back and making a move to rip your shirt from your body. You pulled back suddenly, giving him a warning look.
“Hey. Slow.”
You reminded, and he stuttered out an exhale, his fingers gradually raising your shirt above your head as he tossed it to the side. His eyes ravished your body as his fingers traced along the newly exposed skin of your sides, his touch softly skimming your curves before coming up to cup at your breasts. You smiled sweetly down at him as he pressed a few fervent kisses to your collarbone. His dark eyes found yours, lips parted provocatively as he silently asked for your permission. You nodded gently, and his fingers trembled with restraint as he slowly reached around to unclasp your bra.
It was taking everything within his power not to flip you over and pound into you, but something about the look in your eye—reverent, devoted, loving—he didn’t mind too much.
When your breasts exposed themselves to him, he made a low rumbling noise from the back of his throat, leaning forward to latch onto one of your nipples hastily. You tugged at his hair and he groaned in frustration.
“Jake.”
You warned, and he pressed his face down into your cleavage, his breathing ragged and shallow.
“Mierda, bebita. You like being on top so much, hm? Like being in control of papi?”
You gently pulled at his curls again, forcing his face to lift and look up at you. You regarded him softly, one of your hands coming to delicately trace over his jaw and cheekbone.
“No, honey. None of that, okay?”
His brows furrowed, and you leaned down to press a kiss against the crease between them.
“It’s just you and me. Jake and Y/N.”
He repeated your name back to you in a low murmur, as if saying it for the very first time. Actually, now that you thought about it—maybe it was. Jake had never addressed you by your name before, only used endearments to speak with you.
He seemed puzzled by your suggestion, eyes round and questioning and lost, almost uncomfortable with the proposal of having you call him by his actual name.
“You can be on top if you really want to, Jake.”
You pressed a kiss to his nose, then atop both of his fluttering eyelids, then one in the center of his hairline.
“You just—have to be patient.”
You pressed your forehead against his, letting your eyes drift shut as you took in the soft sound of his breathing, finally settling down and evening out. You felt his head tilt up to meet yours again, and you let him kiss you, his pace steady and deliberate, easing you into a rhythm. His hands slowly crawled up your spine, cradling you close to him as he licked into your mouth, his hips bucking up just slightly when you gently tugged at his lower lip with your teeth. He pulled away, shaking his head at your flirtatious action and giving you a playful glare before mouthing gently at your jawline, down your neck and behind your ear. When you leaned into his touch, he sank his teeth in and suckled a deep red mark into your skin, earning a soft whimper in appreciation. His lips stayed pressed against you as they trailed down the column of your neck, along your collarbone and shoulder, and finally down to the flesh of your breasts.
You breathed out a low moan when he placed wet open-mouthed kisses along the top curves of your chest, slowly teasing lower until his teeth scraped your hardened nipple and his lips puckered around it. His hand came to palm at your other breast, kneading at the doughy flesh as he stared up at you seductively through his lashes.
“Fuck, Jake.”
You whimpered, and the sound of his name rolling so deliciously off of your tongue caused his hips to grind up against you once more. When he was satisfied with the array of red and purple marks he’d imprinted on your skin, he dragged his face back up to your own and pressed his lips to yours once again.
You were impressed with his restraint. You could feel the hardness in his muscles, see the tension in his thick shoulders as he forced himself to take his time instead of jumping your bones from the start. You hummed against his mouth before pulling yourself away and off of his lap, your fingers slowly trailing down the length of his torso before settling on the buckle of his jeans.
His breath stuttered at the action, his abdominal muscles contracting as he awaited your next move. You gently reached down to palm at his bulge through the layers of fabric and he groaned throatily, his eyes fluttering shut at the much needed stimulation. Your fingers deftly worked to unloop his belt before unbuttoning his jeans, and he lifted his hips to assist you in pulling them off of him.
When he was left in just his briefs, you pressed gently against his shoulder to make him lay back down and relax. He sank back into the pillows, propped up so he had a decent view of you between his legs, your fingers teasingly stroking over his length through the thin cotton of his boxers. He hissed.
“Estás una calientapollas. Please, hermosa. Y/N.”
He saw the way your eyes darted to his face at the sound of your name, your lips parting and your fingers ceasing their gentle sweeping motion over his cock. You held his gaze as you slowly reached up towards the waistband of his briefs and coaxed them down his legs, freeing his member that had been straining against the fabric.
After you’d tossed his final undergarment aside, you settled back between Jake's legs, your hands stroking each of his inner thighs softly, watching as he pulled his lip between his teeth. Your left hand slowly, slowly crept upwards until it ghosted over the silky skin of his shaft, his body shuddering in response to your touch. You waited until his eyes were open again, watching you, before leaning forward and letting a pool of your saliva drip from your lips and onto his awaiting cock. He keened at the sight, his hips jerking just slightly as you finally wrapped your hand around the base and began to stroke him at a treacherously slow pace.
“Mierda. Fuck.”
He grunted quietly, trying to keep his hips still as you started to pump him a bit faster, glittering eyes staring up at him reverently. It was dizzying, the way you gazed up at him with such infatuation. It almost made him nauseous.
You slowly leaned down and licked the precum from his leaking slit before letting your lips wrap around the head, swirling your tongue languidly over the tip, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure.
You briefly pulled back to press kisses up along his entire length, coupled with soft caresses of your fingertips. It was clear to you that Jake was beginning to feel frustrated—his hands were buried in his hair, head thrown back against the bed as if attempting to subdue his desires.
You took him back into your mouth, working him slowly over with your tongue and swallowing him down bit by bit, agonizingly slow. You could feel Jake’s thighs tensing around you, his hands flying from his head to fist at the sheets on either side of his body.
When you gagged around his cock, he lost his composure. You made a startled choking sound when you felt his hand against the back of your head, pressing you down onto his length as his hips bucked up to try to sink into your throat. You immediately recoiled, and Jake nearly whined, his eyes desperately pleading with you to grant him some release. You weren’t taking any pleasure in seeing him like this—this wasn’t your end goal.
“You going to edge me like Marc, huh? Want to hear me beg?”
His voice broke off slightly, his frustrations venting through his lips as he almost glared at you. You sat up, moving to straddle his waist once more so you could press your lips to his again.
“No, Jake, I told you, I’m not. I just—Let me take care of you. Wanna show you how much you mean to me, wanna—wanna worship you, wanna make you feel good—”
His brows furrowed as you rambled slightly, your eyes big and round and glassy. He was confused—what exactly was it that you wanted from him?
“Let me fuck you, mi vida—make us both feel good with me inside you, hm?”
“No, Jake, just—hang on, that’s not—”
“Then what? Want to see if I can be as vanilla as your little Steven?”
“I want to make love with you, Jake.”
His breath resembled something of a gasp as his eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline, disappearing beneath his curls while his eyes widened almost comically at your hasty confession. You cringed inwardly at your forwardness, taking in the expression of sheer panic on Jake’s face that had him looking like a deer in headlights. You sighed, leaning forward to press your forehead into his chest in an attempt to hide your face from view.
“Fuck. Sorry. I just—I don’t want you to feel like you have to rush through this. I’m sorry, I just—I want—want you to enjoy it, want you to let yourself feel it, Jake.”
You could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, his lack of response smothering you after your fervent explanation. You wanted to disappear, wanted the ground to cave in and swallow you whole—instead, silence consumed you, settling across your back like a weight that you weren’t strong enough to carry.
“That’s...a new one for me.”
His voice was quiet, sheepish, and you could feel the vibrations rumbling in his chest as you lifted your head to look at him.
“I know.”
You acknowledged quietly. He was staring at you. Dark eyes searching within yours, scanning your expression, every detail of your face, as if attempting to see straight through you. Your heart was still pounding, your face rosy with an embarrassed blush—you felt his arms shift, his hand hesitantly lifting, fingers ghosting over the skin right above the waistband of your jeans at your hips, getting about as close as he could to holding you without actually touching you at all.
You’d never seen Jake Lockley at a loss for words before, and you’d certainly never seen him look so unsure. He was always so collected, nonchalant and unfazed, never dropping his guard for more than a second before that smug smirk reappeared on his face. He took things in stride, his confidence stifling as if he was always three steps ahead of the rest of the world, always knowing what came next.
But now there was vulnerability displayed across his slacken face, a certain wariness serrating his words as he spoke.
“I’m sorry, mi vida, but I don’t—”
“You don’t have to apologize, Jake, really, I promise it’s okay.”
You reached up a hand to cradle the side of his face, fingers gliding across the stubble of his jaw as your thumb brushed over his cheek. His head instinctually tilted in the direction of your hold, turning to press a soft kiss to the palm of your hand.
“I’m sorry. This—I don’t know what I was thinking. This isn’t fair to ask of you at all, it wasn’t a part of the deal, and—we can stop here. Let’s—just tell me where you wanna go from here and we can do it. Anything.”
You breathed, looking into his eyes, your brows furrowed in remorse as you anxiously awaited his reply. He was still just looking at you, unwavering, his chest heaving slightly with each brash exhale.
You felt his fingers skate up your bare spine and you straightened at his touch, letting him gently pull you towards him until your noses were brushing again. His gaze never left yours as he drank you in, his lips parting so you could feel his warm breath against yours. After a few more grueling beats, your pulse jumping with anticipation, his closed the gap and kissed you with a tenderness you didn’t know he even possessed. He pulled himself into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around you until they enveloped you completely, your bodies melding together as his tongue traced the seam of your mouth, although he didn’t press any further—just feeling you, tasting you, savoring the sweetness that seemed to course through your veins.
You were breathless when he pulled back, although he only recoiled just enough to speak. You could feel the movement of his lips against your face as his dark eyes burned through you.
“Hermosa, I don’t—I’ve never... Nunca he hecho esto antes.”
You knew what he was saying even if you couldn’t actually understand it. Your eyes crinkled at the corners as you smiled softly at him, sliding your palms over his chest before wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.
“It’s okay, honey. I—we can figure it out together.”
He blinked rapidly at you, and if you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought there were tears shining across his eyes. But then he was kissing you again, so softly and sincerely that it fucking hurt.
Your body was slotted perfectly against his, flush against the contours of his current position as his hands slid up and down your spine, settling lowly on your back, just above your ass. You could feel his aching arousal pressing into your heat, rubbing against the seam of your jeans as he held you against him. You let his tongue lick inside your mouth greedily before you drew away.
“Can I—Can I keep going?”
You asked softly, grinding your clothed core up against him for emphasis. A breathy whimper fell from his lips as he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before slowly nodding. You slowly crawled down the length of his body, pressing gentle kisses all the way down until you found yourself settled between his legs once again, not wasting any time in wrapping your hand around his cock and giving him a few gentle strokes. He sank into the mattress, throwing his head back into the pillows as his teeth sank into his bottom lip.
“You’re supposed to enjoy this, okay? But remember, this—this isn’t just about making each other cum, it’s—wanna make you feel good. We’ll take it nice and slow. You tell me when you’re ready to—when you wanna move on, and we will, okay?”
He looked down at you, his eyes still full of doubt and hesitance, but beneath the veneer you could see the warmth of trust shining through. He nodded at you reassuringly, and the soft smile he offered was one you’d never seen from him before—so genuine and credulous that it almost resembled Steven.
Without another word, you leaned forward and let the tip of your tongue trace the driblet of precome that had begun to slide down the length of his shaft. You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, suckling at the flesh as your hand began to stroke him steadily, wrist twisting just slightly to maximize the stimulation.
Jake let you toy with him for awhile, his hands gripping the sheets on either side of him in tight fists while he endured you doting on his throbbing cock.
When you reached to squeeze for his balls, your head sinking a bit lower onto his length, you felt his fingers wrap in your hair and gently coax you off of him, a low growl rumbling in his chest. You immediately ceased your ministrations, staring up at him attentively as he blinked slowly at you, his lip swollen from where he had been biting it.
“Do you—you want me to stop? Wanna—want me to ride you, or—”
He interrupted you with groan, throwing his head back against the pillows and squeezing his eyes shut. You could feel the muscles of his abdomen rippling.
“No, mi vida, it’s alright, whenever—you can stay down there as long as you like, I just—mierda, your mouth is so good to me, hermosa. Worried I’m gonna cum.”
He confessed, a sort of pained expression on his face. You gave him a pitying look—it wasn’t mocking, not at all, but genuine sympathy. You didn’t want to make him miserable.
“Just a little bit longer, okay, honey? I know it’s hard going so slow, I’m sorry, but—but I promise, when you finally let go, it’ll be worth it, okay?”
He smiled meekly at you, nodding as he removed his hand from your hair and returned it to its position tangled in the sheets at his side. You gave him one last reassuring glance before sinking your mouth back down onto his cock and lavishing him with more attention.
For several more minutes, he let you worship him, his hips jolting and cock twitching, although he was displaying great levels of restraint when it came to letting you dictate the speed and pace of your actions. You suckled one of his balls into your mouth, watching as he squirmed, legs kicking just slightly beside you as he mewled, his face scrunched up in pleasure.
You released him with a popping sound, finally satisfied with how you’d worked him up and extolled his cock. You crawled up his body and he eagerly welcomed your proximity, pulling you to his mouth to plant a hard, desperate kiss to your mouth. You smiled into him, fingers nestled in his curls.
“Thank you, Jake, did so well.”
You whispered, pressing gentle kisses to the expanse of his jaw as his chest heaved beneath you. He hummed to acknowledge your praise, although you could feel the tension in his muscles as he impatiently awaited your signal that you could continue.
When your eyes met his, they blinked at him, docile and alluring, and he took that as his cue to roll you onto your back so he could position himself on top of you. He pressed a few kisses to your mouth, as if he was struggling to pull himself away, before his lips traveled down your neck and collarbone, his hands popping the button on your jeans to finally have you bare beneath him. You didn’t protest when he pulled them down off of you, your panties joining them soon after. He leaned up to kiss you again, his rock-hard length dipping into your sopping folds as his body rocked against yours once, then twice, earning a low whimper from your throat.
“Go ahead, honey, I’m ready for you.”
You whispered, voice sweet, and he groaned lowly. However, he surprised you by pressing a soft peck to your cheek before sinking down the length of your body, his mouth trailing a line down the center of your torso before kissing right atop your pubic bone, brown eyes watching you closely. Your breath stuttered as you wrapped your fingers in his hair unconsciously.
“Jake, you’ve waited long enough, you don’t have to—”
“Wanna do this right, Y/N.”
He whispered, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on your clit, causing you to gasp.
“Make me feel so good, hermosa. Promised going slow is worth it—gonna make it worth it for you, too.”
You couldn’t dwell on the fluttering sensation in your chest when his mouth pressed against you, wet tongue meeting your dripping folds with attentiveness—you released a soft cry as he lapped at your entranced, the tip of his tongue prodding at your clit gently, causing you to squirm.
Jake liked to run his mouth, but now, he was silent. It's not that he didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to spur you on with filthy praise—he simply couldn’t find the words. He was absolutely hypnotized by the sight above him, bewitched by the expression of pure, unadulterated euphoria on your face at each ministration he offered. He’d never been witness to such a beautiful view before—any time he’d gone down on someone, watching their nonverbal responses to his touch simply wasn’t his priority. It had always been rushed, forceful, as he ripped orgasm after orgasm from his partner with greed and insatiability. But now—now it was you. He was in between your legs, pulling angelic sounds from your lips as your thighs quaked around his head. You were glowing, radiant, ethereal as you basked in the pleasure, and Jake finally realized why foreplay was so important—seeing you like this might be even better than the real thing.
He heeded your words. He wasn’t trying to make you cum, wasn’t speeding you towards your climax with rapid swipes of his tongue and fingers. He was savoring you, each brush of his mouth against your core was languid and indulgent. His lips puckered around your sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing slow circles around it with his tongue as your fingers fisted tighter into his curls, offering enough of a sting to make him groan around you. His tongue dipped into your entrance, lapping at your dripping arousal, your walls fluttering around his thick muscle as your hips jerked to meet his thrusts, pressing yourself against his face to chase your mounting pleasure.
This was different than the orgasms he’d granted you the day prior—this was a simmering heat, coiling lowly in your stomach, festering and building slowly as he sought out the places that made you squirm. You could feel the intensity spiking, even though his lazy speed remained constant—the way his dark eyes stayed firmly fixated on your face was dragging you closer and closer to the threshold.
“Fuck, Jake, oh God—”
You whined, and his hands slipped beneath your ass, lifting your hips to grant him a better angle at which to devour you. Your thighs were trembling, his tongue beginning to swipe over your clit in rapid side-to-side motions—the change of pace pulled a ragged wail from within you, the muscles of your abdomen squeezing tight. He couldn’t control the shameful rutting of his hips into the mattress beneath him at the sound.
“So close, Jake, yes, fuck—”
You were right on the precipice, stars clouding your vision, but right before you tipped over the edge, you yanked your hips back, lifting Jake's head away from you with your grip on his hair. He jolted, hazy eyes suddenly wide and alert as he sat back, bewildered at your abrupt departure from his lips. You squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm dissipated, your tense muscles sinking back into the mattress as the coil loosened itself. You breathed out lowly, your lashes fluttering as you opened your arms to pull Jake against you.
“Sorry, honey, I—so good, Jake, fuck, but I—wanna cum on your cock, wanna cum with you.”
A low groan escaped him as he pressed his forehead to yours, eyes blinking closed to stave off the arousal that was singeing his insides.
“You—¿estás lista, mi vida? Are you sure?”
You nodded vigorously, pressing a kiss to his lips, and he let out a slow breath, hands sliding to your sides. Your brows furrowed when he pulled back, gently attempting to roll you onto your stomach. You reached up to grip his shoulders tightly, shaking your head.
“No, no, Jake, I want—wanna see you, wanna be close to you, please.”
There was turmoil churning behind his eyes as he stared down at you, brows furrowed heavily as he fought his internal battle. You realized he’d probably never done it like this before—if the fact that he was afraid to kiss you was any indication, you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he’d never let himself be caught in such an intimate position.
But then his eyes softened, his hand coming to cradle the side of your face, his thumb pressing up against the swell of your lower lip.
“Okay, hermosa. Por ti hago lo que sea.”
You felt his member slide between your dripping folds, the head of his cock brushing across your clit as he guided it against your center, hearing the way your breath hitched at the feel of him over your bundle of nerves. You felt it notch at your entrance, the tip just barely breaching your folds. Jake cursed lowly under his breath, eyes glued to where his cock was about to sink into you. In spite of your desperation, your hands lifted to rest on either side of his face, forcing his eyes onto you.
“Look at me, honey. Want you to look at me when you split me open.”
“Carajo.”
He muttered, closing his eyes to steel himself before opening them again to stare into yours. You watched his lips part as he pushed into you, unbearably slow, a low moan rumbling through his diaphragm as he sank into you, only stopping when he was fully-seated within your fluttering walls.
The intimacy was stifling him. He felt lightheaded, breathless, his body hovering over yours just barely as he held himself up above you, drinking in your heavenly being—your hair was fanned out on the pillow beneath you, your pink lips slicked with saliva as your gazed up at him with doe-eyes, blinking slowly as your walls clenched around him.
“God, Jake.”
You whispered, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling so he fell against you, chest flush against your own. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, staying still inside of you for a few brief moments in order to just feel the way you surrounded him.
Slowly, carefully, he pulled back his hips, just barely, before pressing back inside of you, your moans echoing in unison as his balls nestled tightly against your ass again. He’d always been so busy chasing his release, relentlessly pounding into you that he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate just how perfectly he filled you, just how perfectly your walls clamped around his pulsing length.
“So good, mi vida.”
He groaned against your neck, repeating the motion of his hips at a more steady pace. Each thrust pressed against your cervix, causing you to whimper.
“Fill me up so nice, Jake, fuck, feels so good.”
He felt your walls clamp around him once more, and he pulled his head back slightly, lifting himself up a bit more so he could increase the breadth of his thrusts.
“Me vas a matar.”
He growled, sucking in a breath through his teeth as one hand came to palm at your breast, his eyes glued to the way the other bounced with each push of his hips forward. His eyes drifted back to the fucked-out expression on your face, your lips parted as you stared up at him, and his hips stuttered just slightly.
God, he was close already.
“Fuck, hermosa, me arruinas.”
You could feel him faltering, a bead of sweat dripping from one of his curls and down onto your chest, sliding between your breasts and down to your stomach. He watched it dribble downward, eyes dazed, his abdomen clenching as he attempted to stave off his impending orgasm.
His hand clumsily wedged between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in crude circles, his arm trembling just slightly. Watching him grow desperate above you was enough to spark the beginnings of your climax. You pulled him down for a bruising kiss, teeth clashing and tongues swirling as you swallowed his incessant groans.
“Wan’ you to cum with me, Jake.”
Your words were drawled, drunk on the way his cock filled you, and you could feel pleasure sparking in the base of your spine. The speed of his fingers on your clit sped up slightly, his hips struggling to maintain their cadence.
“Mierda, hermosa, oh fuck, so tight—can’t, I can’t—”
“Cum inside me, Jake.”
Your words were only a whisper as you skated along the edge of your orgasm, just barely hanging on as you desperately tried to convince Jake to let go. His eyes blew open wide at your words, grunting as his hips continued jacking forward.
“Y/N, shit, don’t—I’ve never—”
“Oh, God, fuck, I’m cumming, Jake, please, please cum with me, fuck—”
He couldn’t have stopped himself even if he tried. The rhythmic pulsing of your walls around his painfully hard cock was harrowing, gripping him so tightly that he couldn’t have pulled out even if he wanted to.
His balls drew up tight as his climax exploded.
“Oh, me vengo—mierda, fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, shit, shit, shit—”
His eyes rolled back as he nearly collapsed on top of you, his hips pistoning forward again and again as he shot his spend deep into your walls, his cock pulsing. His orgasm seemed to last minutes as his vision blacked out, brain emptying as his awareness only focused on how the pleasure zipped across his skin with each pump of cum that he released and how tightly your walls were squeezing him, milking him for all he was worth. He’d never cum so hard in his life, or so much—his seed was leaking out around his length as his body slowed to a halt, your tired cunt stuffed full of him as his cock spilled one final spurt of warm release, the head of his member settling against your cervix as he stilled, his weight bearing down on you as he went boneless.
Jake was slowly grounded back into reality at the feeling of your fingertips brushing softly across the length of his spine, your other hand buried in his curls from where his face was tucked into your shoulder. He could feel your hot lips pressed against his temple, your breathing steady and even as you regained your bearings. He forced himself to follow your inhalation patterns, attempting to slow the racing of his heart.
As the endorphins flooding his bloodstream began to thin out, his anxieties threatened to consume him once again. He pushed himself up and off of you, groaning at the soreness in his muscles and the exhaustion tingeing the edge of his movements. You could do nothing but watch him as he slowly pulled out of you, and you expected him to leave you as hastily as he had the day before—maybe he would’ve, if not for the way his eyes glued themselves to your exposed center, enthralled by the sight of his cum oozing from your fluttering hole and dripping downwards.
Your hips jumped slightly when you felt his fingers gently sweep over your cunt—his gaze never lifted as he scooped his release from where is was beginning to escape and pushed it back into you, forcing you to keep as much of him inside as you could. His eyes were dark, possessive as he tilted your hips up just slightly in an effort to stop his cum from leaking out of you.
His sudden captivation and obsession with filling you was surprising, a stark contrast from just moments before when he had desperately resisted your pleas to finish inside of you. The ghost of a smile flickered over his lips as he settled you back down, seemingly content with the show. His eyes flickered up to yours, and as soon as your gazes met, you saw the way a shadow crested his features, abruptly throwing up his guard after the unexpected vulnerability he’d just granted you.
Jake walked to the bathroom, letting the door shut behind him with a click. You pulled yourself into a sitting position, sighing as you felt the stickiness between your thighs and settling beneath you. You should clean yourself up, get dressed and head out so that—
The bathroom door swung open again and Jake walked out, a wet washcloth awkwardly held in his left hand. He stood at the end of the bed for a moment, as if unsure of what to do next. His eyes hesitantly found yours.
“Do—I’m—I haven’t done this part before, mi vida.”
He quietly admitted, offering a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. Still, your heart warmed at his efforts.
“Thought—figured I’d try what Marc does, but I don’t—”
“Thank you, Jake, that’s perfect.”
You encouraged softly, and his eyes lit up with your soft praises as he knelt down on the edge of the bed, leaning down to carefully press the cloth to your ruined core. You sucked in a sharp breath, the coldness of the water a foreign sensation in contrast to the heat that was broiling between your legs—Jake recoiled, eyes searching yours widely for direction. You offered him a lopsided grin.
“Sorry, s’just—sensitive.”
You explained, and he nodded, slowly wiping at the arousal that stained your skin. His lips were pursed as he focused on his actions, trying desperately not to hurt you. After awhile, he sighed.
“Would you—do you want Marc? Or Steven?”
Your face fell as he finished cleaning you up, tossing the towel on the floor beside the bed, before facing you, his curls falling across his forehead and into his eyes. You frowned.
“No, Jake—not unless you don’t want to—it’s okay, I can always leave if that’s—”
He let out a humorless, bitter laugh, one hand coming up to stroke at his stubbled jaw as he stared at the ceiling, clearly uncomfortable.
“No sé lo que estoy haciendo.”
You heard him mumble breathlessly, his shoulders sagging with defeat.
“Do you—will you come lay with me, Jake?”
You asked softly, as if you were speaking to a wild animal and were trying desperately not to scare it away. His eyes darted to your face, lips parting to protest, to make up an excuse, but then he shook his head at himself, crawling up towards you and seating himself beside you, his back resting against the headboard. You tentatively leaned into his side, nestling your head against his shoulder. You felt him stiffen beside you slightly, but then his arm moved to wrap around you, pulling you closer against his side.
You felt him release a breath he’d been holding as you lifted a hand to rest on his bare chest, drawing random shapes into the warm skin mindlessly.
“Why did you think I’d want Marc or Steven?”
You asked softly, your eyes watching the movement of your fingers on his chest. His hold on you tightened.
“This—s’not my job. I don’t do things like this.”
You sat upright, turning to face him fully. His eyes were hard as they looked at you.
“What do you mean, not your job?”
His lips pursed.
“You know, hermosa. You’re the doctor, hm? Steven and me, we’re—we both do something for Marc. S’why we’re here. Marc and Steven, they—they get to feel things, know people. I’m—I’m just here to make sure they’re safe, that they don’t get hurt.”
Tears pricked behind your eyes as his words registered in your brain. There was an aching sensation festering in your chest.
“No, Jake, that’s not—that’s not how this works. You’re a person, you have every right to experience things just like they do, you’re—”
“No pasa nada. This is the way things are, hermosa. I know you thought—thought you’d be able to come and figure us out, show us what’s what, but—but I already know who I am, what part I play.”
The dejection in his voice was unmistakable. There was bitterness in his words, resentment. The pain in your chest expanded.
“I protect. That’s what I do. Means I don’t get—I don’t get to have this, mi vida. What happened today—that’t not mine.”
A tear rolled down your cheek, so you turned and sank back into his side, hoping he didn’t catch your display of emotion. In spite of himself, he let you press against him, savoring the feeling of your soft skin against his own.
You were hoping he’d open himself up to you after your intimate tryst, but you obviously misread the situation—his walls had come back up, even stronger and more unwavering than before.
Perhaps he sensed your sadness. You felt him release a long sigh, his muscles going lax as he let his head fall against the headboard.
“Lo siento, hermosa. I—you deserve better than what I can give you.”
Your head turned to gaze up at him, finding his eyes staring straight ahead at a random focal point. You felt your heart crack a bit.
“Stop, Jake, don’t say that. That’s not true, I don’t—”
“It’s okay, mi vida. I appreciate what you tried to do for me today. Significa mucho para mí.”
He swallowed, and when he finally looked down at you, the warmth he’d been unabashedly displaying for you had been replaced by the familiar austere glint that normally resided there.
No. You wouldn’t have it. Not after all of this.
Your hand reached up to cradle his jaw, thumb swiping over the apple of his cheek as you turned his head to face you.
“I know you’ve heard me say it, Jake. To Marc and Steven. This wasn’t—this isn’t just research.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as his eyes flickered down to your lips, and you felt the arm that was wrapped around you tighten its grip again.
“I care about you, a lot—”
“You don’t know me.”
His words were brazen, suddenly harsh, insistent against your admission. Your brows furrowed.
“I’m not—I’m not like the others. I’m—I’m no good, hermosa. You care about Steven, and Marc, but I’m not like them. I don’t feel things like them, I can’t—estás mejor sin mí.”
“Then let me know you, Jake. You’re a part of this system, just as much as Marc and Steven, and you deserve to be happy.”
He didn’t answer you—his jaw rippled at the conviction your tone offered, so certain with yourself. You let out a long sigh, reaching to pull at his arm as you shifted. His brows furrowed, but he let you coax him into a lying position, his head against the pillows as you once again nestled into his side, arms wrapped tightly around his torso as you pressed your front against his side, face squished against his shoulder. You placed a soft kiss to the skin there.
“I’m gonna stay with you tonight, okay, Jake?”
You felt his muscles tense in protest, every fiber of his being telling him to make you leave, to get up and go, but the proximity and warmth of your body was intoxicating. After a few beats, he finally offered a slow nod, his limbs relaxing as he sank into the bed. You reached to pull the duvet over you two, clutching onto him tightly, and even if he refused to hold you back, you could feel the way his body went pliant beneath your touch.
He shouldn’t let you so close. He’d managed to keep his distance before—but with the way your breaths slowed into gentle snores, your hair tickling against his bicep, your comforting heat seeping into his bones—he felt his resolve begin to crack beneath the pressure of your insistent affections.
Jake let himself mold against you, his head tilting to rest against the top of yours as he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head—he told himself that it was okay, you were sleeping, no one ever had to know just how much you’d softened him, how deeply you’d sunk your perfectly-manicured nails into his flesh—and no one ever had to know just how much he loved it.
For the first time in what felt like ever, Jake Lockley actually slept.
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thevirgincherry · 3 months
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BELL JARS AND BUTTERFLIES !
ft. infinite darkness!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. emotional abuse, mom-son incest, power dynamics, sub leon, some references to past physical abuse not explicit tho, few drug references, p in v
note. hai :3 put id leon cuz that’s who i saw but!!! u can think ab whoever u want :3 thank u to @devilmayfuck for proofreading oh my gosh :3 still ignore mistakes bc I tend to make em while formatting! feedback n rbs so appreciated <3
tumblr removes fics that, for example, use tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.
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It’s no surprise that Leon breached contract and put his dick in his shrink. He tends to do these things around women that sound like school teachers. To be fair, the contract wasn’t his to breach, she’s totally taking advantage of his vulnerability or whatever.
“You still live with your mother, Leon?” It’s a statement, not a judgement, he takes offence either way.
“She’s sick,” Leon says, and it’s a bold-faced lie, they both know that she, his shrink, has his file. That you’re well and alive. He doesn’t like to talk about you to her. Mainly because what you have done to him is private, no one else needs to know, it’s the only thing no one knows about him— The only thing that’s not written across his dossier in bright red is that he and mommy have a less than sound relationship. It’s the only thing that is his.
“Sick?” She’s not much older than you, and she’s not as beautiful as you.
“Sick,” He confirms, and it’s not far from the truth. Physically sick, nah, but Mommy might be, she certainly is, the biggest narcissist Leon has encountered in all twenty-eight years of his shitty life, and that says something. ‘Cause Leon works with the US government. He’s owned by them, actually, to say he’s working would be a lie— He’s been owned all his life, first by mommy, then by work, and Leon has started to think it’s always going to be this way. That it’s okay because he doesn’t have to dissect, ache and hurt like he does when he’s thinking.
When she tries to probe further, as it is her job, her duty, in the same way it is Leon’s duty to save the world on any old Monday, he leaves. The apartment is his by lease, but Leon has never stayed long enough to call it a home, he’s never considered it anything more than where you are.
His fist knocks against the lacquered wood, and you answer a minute or so later. It doesn’t suit you. Trying to fit in with all the D.C career women, prim and polished and intelligent, that’s just not you. At your core, mommy is trailer trash through and through. Your smile is artificial, and your nightgown is too, it’s ill-fitting, the only thing you’ve worn well is his father’s anger. Leon thinks that if he wasn’t so full of the milk of compassion, whatever it is Lady Macbeth said, he would help you out. Show you what you’re truly worth. Unfortunately, all Leon would like, all he has ever wanted, is his mommy.
“Leon,” Your concern comes sparingly, so he takes what he can, head dropping to your shoulder. He melts. You’re about as friendly as a loaded gun, but Leon’s got suicidal tendencies and all that jazz. “Baby, what happened? You look so thin, my goodness, you must weigh less than me.” It’s true, looks like he weighs seventy pounds soaking wet. Skin stretched thin over his bones. Teetering from left to right on ankles so thin they’re ready to snap. “What’s this? Looks expensive.” Your eyes sparkle as you take in his appearance, tracing the fabric of his Armani tie with tenderness you have never given to him.
“Ma,” Leon mumbles into your neck, he stumbles past the threshold and the door clicks shut behind him. All he wants is a kiss or two.
“Leon,” You say his name the way you did before, “That’s not my name, darling, you used to be such a good boy.”
“Mommy,” He corrects himself, it’s always been mommy and no one else, “I’m sorry for— I’m sorry for leaving.”
“It’s not your fault, baby,” Whether he comes or goes, you don’t care, your flippant nature drives him insane. “You’re too much like your father.”
He is not. If Leon was anything like that man, more scum than blood and flesh and bones, your face would be in the concrete. But Leon is your son, and he is who you’ve made him to be. Cowardly. “I’m sorry,” The words dry up in his mouth when your nails rake down his clothed chest, a soft whine slips from the base of his throat, like he’s a dog. Then you scratch behind his ear, and he really is a dog, tail between his legs and everything.
“Oh, my poor baby,” Mommy says, and you pout at him— Did you get your lips done? The money wired over to your account is for necessities. He’s a civil servant, there's nothing classy about that. You piss him off. You do. But you’re his mommy, and he loves you.
The bed smells like you, it was his once, but you take over every aspect of his life. Eat away at any part of him that isn’t appropriate by your terms, a vetting process harsher than the DSO’s. Now Leon’s here, faced with the same hole he crawled out of. The same hole he wishes to crawl back inside. It was safe in there. Warm and quiet. Darkness cradling him like you never have. The one place in which he cannot move, speak or be. The closet he can get to that is stuffing his dick inside.
“Outside clothes on my bed,” You tut, lifting back the covers so you can undress him, “What’s this?” In your hand is an orange tube that you’ve swiped from his back pocket. Leon blinks as you squint at the label. “Oh, darling, you don’t need these, let mommy keep them safe, alright?” Leon nods. That was a new prescription, paroextine, fluoxetine made him a smidge less suicidal, meaning instead of wanting to drive his car off the side of a bridge anytime he got in, he simply drove without a seatbelt in hopes of being crushed to death by a thirty-two tonne truck. Natural selection or whatever. Side effects were shakes, to the point where Sherry was worried he went and got himself put down in the Guinness World Records Book as the youngest recorded case of Parkinson’s disease.
“I need those, ma,” His voice breaks when you tuck them into your bedside cabinet, facing him with your beautiful, cruel smile.
“You don’t need them, Leon,” You gesture for him to come closer, he does, presses his face into your tits, and lets you tell him what’s right and wrong. When it’s coming from you it will always be wrong, but he’ll listen anyway. “It’s not real, baby, you know that, don’t you? I thought you were smarter than this— Shouldn’t be wasting all your money on therapy of all things, I mean, you go to talk for an hour and that supposedly makes everything better?”
“Mm,” Leon makes a noise that is both a grunt and a hum. Please, for the love of god, shut up and get him off— Do something. Hold him. Comfort him. You’re his mother.
“Then they want you to take all these pills-“
“They’re meds, ma,” He corrects for the sake of his— Well, for the sake of nothing at all. Not his ego, not his dignity, they have been depleted completely.
“Meds, huh? You can get addicted fast, and then next minute you know, darling, you won’t be able to function without them- You’ll be like a zombie.” You kiss the top of his head, cooing softly when he raises his head to look up at you like the sad, wet dog he is.
“It’s not crack, ma.”
I know you wish it was.
For an indolent lady who spent half her time doped up on what could only be described as sludge, putting morphine in his milk bottle, you do talk a lot of shit.
“Hah,” Your face changes, you laugh anyway, “You’re so funny, Leon.” You tell him, and he thinks, obsessively, that he would do anything to hear that laugh again.
“Thanks, ma,” Leon’s unrest is mollified by the featherlight touch of your hand on his bare chest, your nail drags down his sternum, as if you’re splitting him in half. It digs into the toughness of his abdomen, he squirms, “That feels weird,” He mumbles, unable to voice out his dislike properly.
“Leon,” You sigh heavily, heavier than his cock in his briefs, “You don’t feel anything, my sweet thing, you’re all empty inside.” He’s a bell jar waiting for its butterfly.
“My poor baby, look at you, can’t do anything without mommy.” Without mommy Leon doesn’t know how to be a real person.
“Can’t eat,” You trace his ribs, sticking out in odd angles through a yellowed layer of skin, “Can’t sleep,” The hollows of his face, his sunken eyes, they tell you everything, “Can’t even breathe without me, can you Leon?” Without mommy he has to be kicked in the gut so his lungs remember what it’s like to breathe. He has to constantly be on the verge of death to know what it’s like to live. “It’s so tiring, darling, I’m too old to be taking care of you.”
“Mommy,” Leon pleads, helplessly, the only manner in which he can behave is helpless.
“Baby,” You toy with his waistband, “You need mommy to help you feel, don’t you?” Feeling should be innate to a human being, shouldn’t it? “Even when you were a baby, Leon, you only cried when mommy did, I used to think it was sweet, but now, darling, it’s gotten a little old.”
Leon whines softly, animal-like, caught by the ankle like a hunted stag, “I’m sorry, mommy— I can’t help it.”
“Oh, it can’t be helped, Leon,” Mommy says impassively, because it is such a chore to jerk off your mentally stunted almost thirty-year-old son. It’s not his fault. He didn’t choose to be this sex-mongering freak that needs to be punished to get off, to not feel ill— To be alive. You started it, and Leon’s sure you’ll end it. Brought him into this world, and you’ll take him right back out of it. At the drop of a hat too.
Your nail, red and glossy and a tad too sharp, presses into his leaking slit. One hand curled around his jaw, the other down his pants. You fish his cock from his boxers, “Mommy was waiting for you,” That makes his chest ache, knowing that he had crossed your mind even once for just a split second, god, he could die a happy man, “Every time you leave I get so worried, I start thinking, well, gosh, how is my Leon doing without his mommy?”
Bad. He does bad in general. Around you it’s bad. He is entirely bad at all times, at every minute, every passing second. With you it’s less bad.
“I just miss you,” Leon says, helplessly beyond help.
“All the time?”
“All the time,” He agrees.
“Oh, baby,” You coo.
“Do you… Did you miss me?” He asks, breathless, twisting in your grip like he’s fitting. Your touch is a million pinpricks on exposed nerves. There's no answer, you just stroke his dick instead, and his moan shatters like an ice fractal. Leon wants to ask and beg and demand— He turns stupid too quick when you cup his balls, squeeze ‘em hard.
“So noisy,” Mommy spits on her palm, real classy, a bit of your whore heritage comes out— See that, it’s a real Kennedy move, dad would be proud. Then you get his cock nice and wet, pumping his shaft as he leaks through the gaps in your fingers. “My sweet boy, you used to be so cute. I miss when you were blonde— It happened to your dad too, it’s a shame.”
“Sorry,” Leon says as if it is his fault natural progression took place, his hips bucking upwards into your fist, schlick, schlick, schlick.
“Well, there’s no need to be sorry about it, you can’t do anything about it, Leon,” Well, at least you’re sane enough to know that, “You know what you can do, darling?”
He shakes his head, abs contracting, balls tightening, ready to blow—
“Clean up before you come to see me,” Your hand is gone, his dick twitches like there’s a parasite inside of it waiting to burst out, “I’m not stupid, Leon,” Your palm sits on his cheek, looking at his stubble with distaste, “And you should shave, look too much like your dad otherwise.”
The scruff is purely out of neglect for his appearance. Leon has never put much thought into it, no one’s ever complained, he’s fuckable. Very fuckable. So fuckable— It’s just you. Mommy says and Leon scrambles to do.
“Off you go then,” You shoo him away, force him to pick his discarded clothes off the floor, he tosses them in the laundry basket. His shrink left the print of her brown foundation on his collar— That’s what you meant by clean up.
In the bathroom cabinet he finds a packaged razor covered in a film of dust. His hand is shaking, nicks his chin once, the sting is not half as bad as your touch. When Leon returns, the nightgown is off, folded neatly on the side, he almost trips over getting to you.
“Mommy,” Leon mumbles around a mouthful of tit, like a proper stupid baby, dumbed-down to fit mommy’s taste.
“I know, baby,” You kiss the crown of his head, stroking over until your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, “Oh, there is just nothing inside of you but that big ol’ heart, huh?” It’s true. He’s empty but his heart. A heart that turns on its hind legs, rolling over onto its back for mommy and mommy only.
Leon hums, suckling on your nipple like he’s going to get milk out of it. “Can I—“ Leon lifts his head, ducks back down to avoid your scathing gaze.
“Can you what, baby?” You thumb his bottom lip, nail grazing his teeth.
“I want to fuck you,” He says, because he would like to fuck you.
“That’s not how you talk to mommy,” You go to push him off, but Leon shakes his head, and he is stronger— He is, he pins you down, presses his face into your neck. An apology that you accept.
“I’m sorry, mommy,” He’s trembling, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, didn’t mean to talk like that— I’m sorry, please, can we-“
“Fine,” You cut in, and he knows that mommy is a slut. More so than him. That you want it just as bad, you just like playing games.
Leon’s lips part when the tip of his fat cock sinks into your heat. He wishes that your hole would gape like the maw of a beast and swallow him up David Cronenberg style. Wouldn’t that be so fun?
There’s a falter in your breath when he bottoms out with a squelch. You try to be this way, so unaffected, but Leon knows that you’re a glutton for cock. Not his alone, which crushes him, any old dick would do for his mom. It’s how she got by way back when.
“I love you,” Leon moans into your mouth when let him kiss you for the first time tonight, he savours it, lets the taste linger, “I love you, mommy.”
You loop your arms around his neck, pull him closer so his cock is deeper, hitting your cervix with the fat head. The most he can do in your grip is move his hips back and forth shallowly, never allowing more than an inch out of your sweet cunt. It’s suffocating and yet he loves it. Your love is a cage. Contains him. Leon licks the droplet of salty sweat that trickles down between your tits, he spurs his hips forward, fucks you with all that he’s got— This is all he’s good for, just good to give you your fill of dick. That’s why you had a son.
“You can do it better than that, Leon,” You’re panting, eyes glassy as you smile your gorgeous smile at him, “I know you can.”
With a grunt, he fucks you with fervour, balls slapping against your ass, all the nasty shit you love. His dick jumps inside of you, and you gasp, biting down on your tongue as he slams into you once, twice, thrice— Oh, it's so over. Leon can’t help it. Mommy’s pussy is so warm, so hot and wet and tight. Your disappointment is tangible. No need to hide it.
We can work on that, his shrink usually says to mask her annoyance at his premature ejaculation.
Mommy just shakes her head while frowning.
“I’m sorry, mommy,” Leon’s body jolts, hips still moving despite the oversensitivity, his cum makes your cunt sloppier. He fucks it back into you like the filthy boy— man he is, so set on making you come undone that it comes across as a little freakish. Like he’s in a trance or some shit. “I’m so- I’m so sorry, mommy— Didn’t mean to— Fuck, I’m sorry, sorry—“
“Leon, stop that,” You place a hand on his chest. He stops. Leon is good at that. Taking instruction no matter how life-threatening, no matter how embarrassing, he’ll do it to be worth something.
“I’m so sorry,” He croaks, truly humiliated by his dick’s lack of selflessness. Shit just cums without Leon telling it to do so.
Mommy pats his head, “It’s okay, baby, you’re only a stupid little boy, aren’t you?”
Leon nods. Mhm. Mhm. Yup. Yup. That he is. Mommy’s stupidly depraved little boy. Just makes sense.
God, yes. “Yes, mommy,” Leon finds himself face to face with your cunt. One that popped him out. A well-beaten yet pretty pussy, because all of you, to Leon, is beautiful no matter how worn out. He parts your cushioned lips, teeth tugging at your labia as he dribbles his spit over your fat pussy. His cum sticks to your inner-thighs, a shiny trail that dries up before he can lick it up and spit it back onto your puffy cunt.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling at his hair till he’s sure the roots have weakened and now he’s even more prone to male pattern baldness than he was before. Leon focuses his attention on your clit, it’s small and fleshy on the tip of his tongue, the more he sucks the more you drip drop and fill his mouth with your slick. Crazy that is. The clit. It’s just a gift that keeps on giving. And it's good both ways. Leon gets to quell that urge, the sucking on a tit urge, and mommy cums so hard her thighs snaps shut around his head. Your back bows off the bed, and god dammit is he proud.
With the lower half of his face covered in your wetness, Leon re-emerges to kiss you. “That’s enough, darling,” You tell him after the fifth and final kiss. He holds onto it. He just wants you, his mommy. Is it so bad to want?
“I love you, mommy,” Leon says for what might be the third or hundredth time of the night.
“I know, darling,” Your nose bumps his, “I did miss you, Leon, if I’m being honest.”
“Really, mommy?” His heart skips a beat or two. God, it might’ve fucking stopped. Then he’d just be a doll of some sort. The rarest collectors doll that mommy could put in a glass case and show off and dust off— Well, to think she’d care enough to dust him off, Leon has a bit of an overactive imagination.
“Really, darling.” Mommy nods, and he’ll take it. He’ll take it and treasure it.
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190 notes · View notes
hrryshoney · 4 months
Text
you got the antidote
gynecologist!matty healy x reader
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A/N: did somebody say continuation? pt. 1, hope u guys enjoy again. so happy that yall find this Man as appealing as me! ty to everyone who bounced ideas w me bc u probs made this part 10x better😋 and again, don’t like it then don’t read it. p.s. there’s a scene where reader is texting! Bold is matty. Italics is reader.
warnings: smut 18+, p in v unprotected sex, inappropriate actions in a doctors office, loss of virginity, size kink (so, reader being implied as smaller), corruption kink, use of Y/N, taboo topics/power imbalance (doctor/patient), fingering, oral (f receiving), light choking, light spanking, dom and sub dynamics, problematic age gap maybe (reader is 22/23, matty is 29/30), dirty talk, lots more lol etc..
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It was 6:00 pm on a Wednesday, and you were getting ready for sleep. Well, not sleep exactly, but you were going to shower and get in bed. You had gotten back from class about an hour ago now, and after having a light dinner all you wanted to do was have your ‘everything shower’ and relax.
Then, your phone pinged with a text message. You walked over to your nightstand to see who it was, assuming it would be one of your friends, or even your partner on a project for one of your classes. You were confused, though, to see a text from an unknown number.
It was even more confusing that they were speaking like they knew you.
Unknown - Today 6:04 PM
Come by the office? Need to discuss some things.
You furrow your eyebrows, trying to remember who this could be. Or, if this text was even meant for you. You could ignore it, but something in your gut told you not to. You decided on sending a simple text back.
sorry, i think you’ve got the wrong number!
You clicked your phone off, throwing it on your bed and walking into your bathroom. You turned the water on, turning it to the hottest setting and letting the bathroom steam. Hearing your phone ping again from the other room, you sighed inwardly and hung your head. Stepping out of the bathroom, you went to check your phone again. This time, there were two messages.
Unknown
Don’t think so.
This is Y/N, correct?
You felt your heart drop to your stomach, gripping the phone in your hand tighter. Okay, who the fuck was this? And, why did they know your name? However dumb it sounded, you were going to ask them just that.
who is this?
and why do you know my name, lol
Even though this was the number one way to get yourself killed in a horror movie, you gave the stranger the benefit of the doubt. You saw the 3 dots appear on your screen, and decided to wait. When the text came through, you felt immediate relief.
Unknown
Sorry, Princess.
This is Matty.
You found yourself smiling at your phone, now. Of course, why wouldn’t it be Matty. But then it struck you that your gynecologist was not only texting you, but calling you princess. And you never gave out your number.
doctor healy lol!
how’d you get my number?
Files, and all that.
You giggled, and decided to put his name in your phone as ‘Doctor Healy’. Swiping back to your chat to respond.
ahh, not very professional
Why not stir the pot? You were bored, and it was a bleak and boring Wednesday. You had nothing better to be doing, really. You walked into the bathroom to shut the shower’s tap, it could wait. You showered yesterday, and you wanted to talk to Matty.
I think that’s the least unprofessional thing you have to worry about, Princess.
Your heartbeat sped up slightly. You jumped into your bed, rolling on your stomach and pulling the cold comforter around you. All the responses you could think of were poor, so you settled for a lame one in the end.
don’t call me thatt
“princess”
Unfortunately for you, Matty’s response was almost immediate.
Perhaps ‘brat’ is more fitting, then?
Are you coming to the office?
Embarrassment surged through you, and you dropped your phone to put your face in your hands. Despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, he was still having an effect on you. And you know you shouldn’t be having these thoughts about him.
yes, sure
what for?
Just wanna go over some of your stats.
Your eyes widened, and as if he could see you through the screen, Matty sent you another text for clarification.
Don’t worry, though. Everything’s alright.
okay, great!
It’s only me here, rest of the staff went home. Just park out front and come in, door’s open.
You hearted his message and decided to change your clothes before you went. You thought it was a little strange that Matty would have you come in after everyone had left, but you supposed he knew what he was doing.
Since you figured you would be coming home right after, you decided to forgo a bra. You threw an oversized sweatshirt on over your head. Changing your jeans out for leggings. You slipped on your sneakers and laced them up.
You took the elevator down from your apartment to the lobby, quickly walking to your car that was parked in the parking garage. Luckily for you, it was still daylight outside.
The drive was quiet and quick, you unplugged your phone from the aux and parked out front of the offices. When you walked to the glass double doors and pulled them open, there was no resistant, just as Matty had said.
The lights were on, but the office was barren. It was that same sterile smell and harsh, bright lights from the day of your first appointment. Goosebumps raised on your arms from the slight chill of the space, and you walked towards the open door of one of the examination rooms.
You could hear faint whistling and typing coming from it, confirming your suspicions that it was the one Matty resided in. You made your way to the doorframe, knocking twice on it to alert him of your presence.
Matty’s head immediately shot up from the computer screen, dark brown eyes meeting yours. “Y/N,” He called out once he saw you, a grin on his face. “Come here, then.” He rolled his chair out from under his desk, coming to a stop in the middle of the room.
You walked toward him hesitantly, still nervous and unfamiliar. But, with that smile on his face, how could you ever be nervous. He stood up once you got in front of him, the height difference now visible. You smiled back at him.
“So… what was it you wanted to go over? I know you said it wasn’t urgent, but I was a little jittery about it on the way.” You rambled, picking at the skin on your finger nails. His smile was beginning to look more and more like a smirk as you held his gaze apprehensively.
“Ah, yes. Just one thing I wanted to take a closer look at. Feels like I didn’t get the whole point of view before.” His hand came to rest gently on your shoulder, reassuringly stroking the spot with his thumb. “And, I thought it would be best if I saw you again privately, so I could spend as much time on you as needed.” His pupils almost got larger then, hand slipping down to cradle your elbow.
You felt your body heating up. Giggling, you blindly agreed with his reasoning. “Whatever you see fit, Doctor Healy. What do you need me to do?” You asked him honestly, bouncing back and forth on the balls of your feet. The way he was staring at you made you restless.
He cleared his throat, an attempt to snap himself out of the daze. His eyes dragged up and down your body noticeably, “Would you mind removing your jumper?” He asked, eyes glued to the piece of fabric.
You swallowed thickly, now flustered at the choice you had made earlier in your room. “I- Well, I don’t really have on, um, a bra underneath?” The statement came out as more of a question, and the way his mouth went slightly agape had you fumbling to explain yourself.
“Sorry! I’m sorry if that’s unprofessional, Doctor. I just- I hadn’t realized you would be examining me. I thought this was more of a paperwork thing.” You smiled awkwardly, hoping to ease the tension. His hands twitched by his side, one coming to pull slightly at the front of his trousers.
His chuckle was enough to make you shiver. “It’s nothing to apologize about, really. Just makes my job easier. Are you comfortable to remove it, still?” You whispered your agreement, pulling the sweatshirt over your head with both your hands. Once it was off, you laid it on the examination table, turning to face Matty again.
His gaze was unwavering on your chest, the distance between you two seeming even shorter now. “I can touch you?” Matty asked, breathless. But with your nod, he was shaking his head.
“Come on, Princess. Need your words. Should know this one by now.” His eyes almost gleamed.
“Right, sorry. Yes. You can touch me, Doctor.”
You can almost feel the heat radiating off his body before he touches you. And then, Matty’s hands immediately landed on your hips, tracing them up your body. He started to walk closer to the examination table, backing you up until your heels hit the foot of it. First, his hands were on your bare shoulders. Then, you were being abruptly spun around so your thighs hit the table.
His hand rested on your stomach, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Gonna start your appointment now, okay? Let me know if you need a break.” His fingertips never halted, now playing with one of your breasts. He tweaked your nipple and you let out a gasp.
“Sorry, Princess.“ You can hear the smirk in his voice, and you know he’s not sorry at all. He walks his hands up to your bare neck, letting his hand softly lay in place. You let out a squeak when his fingers suddenly squeeze either side of your neck.
Keeping his hand on your neck, the other comes to grab roughly at your hip. “Small, could do anything to you.” His fingernail trails the rest of your neck, going down the valley of your breasts. Suddenly, both his hands disappear from your body. Before you can whine and beg him for more, you feel his palm flatten on your back.
There’s a slight push, and he’s clearly giving you an out. You give into his strength, bending at the hip over the examination table. “Can I take off your pants?” Matty’s bent above you, leaving a trail of kisses down your bare spine.
Your nod is almost instant, only hindered by the way your cheek was pushed against the table. You can’t help pressing your thighs together. “Please, Doctor Healy.” You feel his hands fiddling with the waistband of your leggings.
“Gotta bend you over and inspect you.” He mumbles, and you don’t think you were meant to hear it. Matty is pulling the leggings down your thighs torturously slow. Once your pants pool at your ankles, you hear him take two steps back. He’s staring at your white panties, and you hear him click his tongue twice.
Matty presses the growing bulge in his trousers right on top of the growing mess in your panties. He leans down once again, a hand on the back of your neck as he whispers in your ear. “Gonna take a look at your little cunt now, okay baby?”
You moan out a noise that sounds somewhat like a yes, and it’s good enough for him. Matty pulls away, pressing a thumb atop the wet spot that has now stains your underwear. “Naughty girl.” He chuckles, and you feel yourself clench around nothing.
Suddenly, you hear a loud tearing sound. You feel the shock when you realize it was Matty ripping your panties from behind, the elastic snapping back on your skin. You gasp feeling the cold air hit your cunt, and the dull sound of your ripped underwear hitting the floor.
Matty runs his fingers down your body, outlining your pussy. “Spread yourself for me.” It’s a demand, and your throat runs dry at the tone of his voice. You bring your two hands back from your side to grab your inner thighs, spreading yourself open for Matty.
Matty’s middle finger prods at your hole, circling it. Your incessant moans making him laugh. “Quiet for me, checking to make sure everything’s okay.” The tip of Matty’s finger slips inside you, stretching you out. As soon as you moan, he’s pulling his finger out again. Teasing.
“Doctor- Matty. Please, please.”
His fingers travel up and down your slit, feeling you out. Your wetness is dripping on his fingers, and you can't help the whines escaping your mouth. Matty makes a noise in the back of his throat, pushing his middle finger into you again. "Feel good?" Matty's voice is a deeper tone than usual, chestnut colored eyes now an almost black.
You moan in confirmation and wiggle your hips, "Another please?" Feeling the constant stretch from his fingers is too good. His unoccupied hand comes to lay flat on your lower back. "Need it, Doctor." You'd beg if he asked, and if he didn't, too. A wet gasp tore through your throat when his thumb came to circle your clit from behind.
"Stay still and I'll make it better, okay? Whiny little girl." Matty says, tone all amusement. In your state, you don't really find it that funny. It's all okay though, when he slides his ring finger into you.
Now, both his fingers are moving in and out of your cunt at a steady pace. The friction is so good, and you can hear the wet sounds your pussy is making. You’d have half the mind to be embarrassed, but you don’t have the energy for your cheeks to start burning.
You can’t stop babbling for him, mostly nonsense. Matty can make out that most of it is you begging, though. He curls his fingers inside of you, plunging his fingers even deeper. “Such a good girl for me. So agreeable, just let me do anything? Yeah, you would. Bent over like a good pet and taking my fingers. Made you into a little slut, huh?”
“Oh my God.” You manage to choke out in between the moans that are shaking your body. You feel yourself get even wetter for him. “Doctor, please. Yes.” You’re shaking your head so hard that you know it’ll hurt later. Matty grabs a fistful of your hair to lift your head up slightly, fingers never stopping.
“Fucking like that? Like being called a slut? Can feel how you clench around me, s’pathetic.” Matty curls his fingers inside you, speeding up his pace even more. He takes his fingers out of you completely. Before you can protest, his hand comes down to slap your cunt. Three quick taps that have your mouth hanging open in silence, and then he slips his fingers back inside of you.
Matty’s hand lets go of your hair, slinking it around your front to rub tight circles on your clit. “Come on, princess. Cum for me, cum for your Doctor.” And when he pinches your clit, you’re gone. You squeeze your eyes shut so tight that you see white behind the lids. Loud moans are pouring out of your mouth and your torso is writing against the table.
His fingers never cease their movements, working you through your orgasm. Once you come down from it, you feel overstimulated. “Too much, Matty.” He slips his fingers out, and you turn your head in time to see him put his fingers in his mouth to taste you.
Matty licks his fingers and holds eye contact, smirking when he’s done. “You taste fucking sweet.” He takes a step closer, and your lips part. Matty slips his two fingers in your mouth, then. His grin goes even wider when you immediately close your lips around his fingers and suck.
“Good girl, don’t you taste good?” He’s chuckling when you nod your head around his fingers, agreeing. He pulls them out of your mouth with a pop, and he moves backwards to his original position.
“Need it right from the source.” He mumbles, and that’s when you see him sinking to his knees. You automatically shove your face down onto the table again, your muscles tense in anticipation. He trails his fingers down your thighs teasingly as he does.
“Been dying for this, you know that? Need to taste you.” His hands hook to the front of your legs, limiting your movement. Your upper body is still bent across the examination table.
He pries your legs apart even further, fingertips gripping hard on your thighs. “Please, Doctor. Do something.” Your whines are met with a chuckle, causing you to bury your cheek further down onto the cold surface. The noise you make is loud when you feel a firm hand come to slap your ass once.
“I’ll decide what you get. I know what’s best for you, Princess. Don’t fuckin’ forget it.” Without warning, he pushes his face into your cunt. His warm tongue licks a long stripe up your folds, and you scream out in pleasure. He moves his tongue down to your clit, flicking it in rhythm. His fingers trail to your hole for a minute again, but they’re gone as soon as they came.
You jolt in oversensitivity when Matty takes his mouth off you, just staring at your pussy. You try to close your legs, but the strain of his large hand against your thighs remind you that you can’t. He blows cold air onto your cunt, and then spits onto your hole.
You clench, and Matty laughs. “Doctor Healy, I-I can’t.” Instantly, his tongue is being shoved inside you. Licking the mess he’s made, and fucking his tongue in and out of you.
“You can and you will. Don’t be a brat.” He speaks against you, and the vibrations of his words just make you moan more. “Just a pleasure drunk whore, and you’re trying to deprive me of this?” His lips purse around your clit, sucking hard.
You’re shaking your head, and your hands raise behind you, tugging slightly at his hair. It’s a poor attempt to push his mouth away from your over sensitive nerves. One of his hands comes up to grab both your wrists, pinning them behind your back.
“Let me eat.” He pins you down even harder, and the feeling is sending you over the edge, and you clench your thighs the best you can.
“Matty.. Fuck. Doctor, please. I’m gonna cum, need to.” Your whole body tenses and you feel yourself teetering on the edge. The slightest thing could set you off, and Matty knows this.
His hand comes up to spank your ass again, and he speaks as he licks over your clit. “Let go, you’re so good. Letting me prep you, stretch you out for me.” And that’s what does you in for the second time of the night.
You cum in Matty’s mouth, and he is working you with his tongue the whole time. One of your hands is gripping the side of the table, trying to ground you in some sense. “Fuck! Thank you, thank you.” Senseless curses and strings of the same words are all you can get out of your mouth.
When you come down from the high, Matty is rubbing your back gently. “Good girl, baby. Did so good for me.” He says it so softly, you almost can’t believe this was the same man who made you cum twice in a row just a second ago.
You turn to prop yourself up on your back, feeling a bit tired from all that just took place. Matty’s smiling at you, but there’s a dusting of pink across his cheeks. His eyes practically black. You look down to his trousers, bulge straining against the zipper.
“Does that hurt, Doctor Healy? I can help you.” Your eyes are wide, and you want to return the favor. Last time he made you feel good, he didn’t get to cum either. It’s only fair.
“Don’t have to, could take care of myself if you’re too worn out. Know it would be your first… and I understand if you want to save that. Make it special.” He’s trying to be polite, be a gentleman. Though, it’s not very gentlemanly when his hand goes to palm himself. You shake your head.
“No, I want to. I wanna give myself to you. And, I can go again, you’re not that good.” Of course, that last bit was a lie. You roll your eyes teasingly, but Matty’s pupils dilate. He steps closer to the table.
“Not that good, baby? Don’t eat your words.” He grabs your wrist and places it on top of the tent in his pants, moving your hand up and down. “Wanna be inside you so bad.” Your head rolls back at his words, desperately needing to feel him in you.
Your fingers work at the zipper of his pants, and before you can look up to gain his consent he’s undoing them himself. He drops his trousers, stepping out of them. Your eyes are glued to his black Calvin’s. Matty is big, and you haven’t even see him yet. There’s spots of precum on his boxers, and you commend him for having the strength of not cumming in his pants.
You pull at the hem of his shirt. He’s got his lab coat on, and you need both items off. You feel so bare before him, he needs to catch up. He gets the message, and quickly takes his coat off. It falls to the floor with a clink.
Then, his button up underneath. He loosened his tie earlier, and quickly pulls it off his neck to discard of. Matty undoes the buttons of his shirts with such diligence, and your mind can’t help but wander to how experienced Doctor Healy really is.
When he shrugs his shirt off, you feel like drooling. The black ink covering his body is truly mouthwatering, and his abs aren’t helping the situation. You bring a hand to trace the tattoo on his hip, but when your eyes trail down to his boxers again, your mind is back on track.
Your hands find his waistband, looking up at him with wide eyes. He nods encouragingly, mouth hung open slightly. As you peel his boxers off, you fight the urge to squeeze your thighs together. This is all so erotic.
Matty’s cock springs free from his underwear, and he is big. His cock is pretty, long and thick. The tip now a slight red from being pressed against his zipper. You run your hand along him, pumping him twice. The moans that come out of his mouth are throaty.
He’s heavy in your hand, and all you want is for him to be inside you. Matty notices your dazed expression and can’t help but smirk. “How do you want me to take you?” His hands rub circles on the exposed skin of your hips.
You think for a moment, before ultimately deciding. “Think if I bent over again, it’d be the most comfortable.” Matty audibly moans at that and throws his head back. You giggle, getting into position.
Matty brings himself behind you, letting his dick run through your wetness. “Got you nice and ready for me, I could slip right in you.” He taps the tip of his cock against your folds. You moan at the weight of it.
Matty’s hard cock prods at your hole, and he’s moving himself through your arousal. The noises coming out of your mouth never cease, and neither does Matty’s dirty mouth. “Don’t know if I’ll fit inside you, baby.” And you can hear the faux pout in his voice without having to turn.
“No, please! Please, Doctor. I can take it.” Your chest is heaving, and your throat feels scratchy from the constant noises falling from your lips. Matty just laughs, clearly enjoying the state you’re in.
Your head feels fuzzy, and you try to clench your jaw to bring you back. Matty sees this and soothes a hand down your back. “Know you can. Always an eager whore for me, baby.”
Matty slides his cock in you, putting only the tip inside and then pulling out. You whine out, please and more being the only coherent words. You feel delirious, and his teases don’t make it better. You’ve been aching for him. “Matty, please.”
“I’ll give you what you need, don’t worry that pretty little head.” He hums, rubbing your back again. You feel him rub himself through your folds again, the head of his cock bumping against your clit. It has you arching your back unintentionally.
Then, just when you think you can feel the yearning in your spine, Matty is thrusting into you. It’s half his cock, and you feel stuffed full. You scream out, hearing his reassuring shushes behind the blood that’s rushed to your head.
“Good girl for me, so fucking tight. Made you cum twice and your cunts still gripping me like this? Should keep you in bed all fuckin’ day and train you.” He grunts out, jaw clenching and head rolling back. He taps your ass twice lightly, and you know what’s coming.
Matty thrusts into you again, and your whole body jolts forward. He stays put, but you can feel the bruising grip he’s got on your hips. You’ve never felt so full, so whole, and it’s almost all too much.
Matty’s finally, fully, inside you, and you feel like you can’t breathe. “Made for me, princess. Weren’t you? To just be my little plaything.” He’s still, waiting for your instruction on when to move. He’s so big, it’s all too much.
“You- oh my god, Doctor.” It’s the only reply you can get out, and you unintentionally clench around him. You feel a quick but sharp slap to your backside, making you moan even louder.
“Be a good girl for me, c’mon.” He takes a fistful of your hair, bringing your head up so he can place a kiss on your cheek. He turns your head even more, wrapping his other hand around your throat and kissing your lips.
“P-please move. You’re so big.” You’re in an arousal induced daze, feeling yourself dripping down your thighs. You squirm, hoping that will get him to move out of you. You don’t get very far though, because Matty is bringing his hand back to your hip and holding you in place.
As your back is to his chest, you turn far enough to see the smirk on his lips. He pulls out of you, and you let a gasp fall from your own. “Yeah? Big enough for you, Princess? Know nobody’s taken you before, gotta make it good for you.” Matty punctuates his question by thrusting back into you, hard. He grabs a handful of your tits, pinching your nipple.
You know it’s a rhetorical question, but you’re too drunk off him. Nonsensically nodding your head and babbling. He’s set a rhythm with his hips now, and it’s nothing like you felt before.
The room is filled with sounds of skin slapping together, and you can hear just how wet you are. Matty’s pace is unrelenting, his groans never ceasing. You think you could break the examination table.
His cock is moving in and out of you, every thrust of his hips brining you closer to the edge. You’re overstimulated from coming twice earlier, and you feel your orgasm building.
Matty is two steps ahead of you. When he feels your pussy clenching around him, he knows he’s right. “Gonna cum for me again, baby? So I can fill this slutty fucking pussy? Not an innocent little virgin anymore.” He coos, and goes even faster, bringing a hand under you to your clit and rubbing tight circles.
The pleasure is too much, and you feel your legs about to give out. The prospect of Matty coming inside you excited you too much, and you can’t stop thinking about it. “Please, Doctor Healy. Can I? I need it so bad.” You don’t know why you’re begging for your release, but you want him to grant it to you.
His fingers speed up, still pounding you into the table. “Perfect fucking cunt, so tight and warm f’me. My little fucktoy, right? Cum, let go.” And if his words didn’t do you in, when he moves to pinch your clit certainly has you.
You come with a scream, vision going white and your body turning hot. Matty’s hips are still moving, and he’s fucking you through your orgasm. When you come down from your high, the moans are still spilling out of your mouth.
Matty is moaning, to the point of whimpers. You feel his dick twitching inside of you, and you know he’s about to cum. “Please, Doctor. Cum inside me, I need it.”
Matty’s eyes roll back in his head at your words, and his jaw is agape. He thrusts inside you twice more, until he finally falters. “Fuck me. I’m coming. Gonna fill this cunt up, stuff you full.”
Matty spills inside of you, and you feel the warmth immediately. He slumps over, now bent on top of you in your position. He’s kissing down your spine, and rubbing your shoulders all whilst inside of you.
After a minute, he alerts you. “Gonna pull out, now. This might hurt a little. I’m sorry, Princess.” And it does, but you only wince a little.
As you lay there, you notice Matty looks mesmerized. Then you see he’s staring at his cum that’s now dripping out of you, down your thighs. When you catch him, a light blush dusts his cheeks and he’s quick to defend himself.
“What? I’m a simple man, s’hot.” You just giggle and nod, brushing him off. You turn to lie on your back on the table, propping your legs up. You knew you’d be sore tomorrow.
“Thank you, Matty. Was so good. I’m so happy that you were my first.” You say airily, with not much thought. You were just saying what you felt. And Matty’s grin was worth it.
“Always. Let me get a towel. Gonna clean you up and drive you home.”
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𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 🎃💦 ∘₊✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟙𝟠 ✧₊
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@absurdthirst's Kinktober 2023 Prompts
day 18: Sensory Deprivation Gags, Service Top/Power Bottom, Bloodplay
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𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫
| PAIRING(s): Javi G x menstruating!reader | RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 1.9k | CONTENT: menstruation-centered erotic acts, Javi G is a cinnamon roll freak-a-leek, lots of blood (obviously), romantic fingerpainting, cumplay bc it felt spiritually correct | SYNOPSIS: Your period pains have sidelined you, but Javi finds a way to make things better.
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Not even the gentle sounds of crystal blue waters rocking against stone just beyond your bedroom could distract you from the gnawing pain in your lower belly. The balmy breeze drifting through the open doors and windows does little to bring solace, either. Here you are, smack dab in the middle of paradise with the most generous lover and adoring companion you’d ever had in your life, and you’ve spent  the better half of the day balled up into the  fetal position, completely miserable.
Right on cue, the soft padding of Javi’s feet against the floor draws closer. “Bebita?” His voice is soft, so gentle and attentive it makes your heart want to burst a thousand times over every time you hear it. You groan, a glum little sound from the back of your throat, and hug yourself tighter. “Bebita, are you feeling any better after the medicine?”
“Not really,” you admit. You’d love to tell him that the pill he’d brought you earlier worked its miracle and that all of his efforts have been for something. But, you and Javi don’t lie to each other. It’s one of the many refreshing things that being with Javi has offered. Another freeing aspect of your dynamic was that Javi never seemed to be shaken or deterred by things not going to plan or as you would’ve liked them to.
It wasn’t the obnoxious, compulsive positivity that you see in self-help “gurus” peddling their latest creed in the form of a 16 chapter book for only $23.95 that promises to address all your shortcomings that their last three offerings hadn’t touched upon. Javi had that beautiful sort of determination to make the best of things, no matter the circumstances. It was a sort of infectious sincerity and buoyancy that you couldn’t help but to lean into.
“Agh, I was hoping it would help,” he sighs. “Maybe a change of scenery?”
“Javi, I really don’t want to move. Everything hurts,” you whine.
“What if I stay with you? What about some more blankets? A massage?”
You perk up as he rattles off suggestions, particularly at the offer of a massage. “You really want to massage me right now? I’m all gross and bloated.”
His face breaks into a gentle censure, a soft grin that stalls the breath in your chest. “You keep saying crazy things like you don’t know me,” he chuckles. He crawls onto the mattress and slips a warm hand underneath the sheets and your waistband, the heat and pressure of his palm against your belly offering an immediate palliative effect. A weak whimper escapes your lips the moment he begins kneading firm circles.
“How’s that, bebita?”
“Feels good. Can you push harder?”
He answers by way of applying deeper pressure to his kneading motions, eventually curling his hand into a fist for firmer impact. His hands, always so gentle and attentive, feel much more like the eager and sure ones that grace your body when he’s got you on all fours and crying out his name. The parallel sends a new sensation to your lower belly, something more familiar to the response it yields under those toe curling, mind bending explorations of one another.
Without a word, Javi pulls the covers away from your body and tugs away the lower half of your clothing. When you start to protest, he shushes you and reminds you how much better you’ll feel without all the elastic and waistbands pressing against your tender, swollen belly. When you start with how gross you feel and about him seeing you so disheveled, he all but hauls you out of the bed towards the bathroom.
“Let me take care of you,” he pouts. “A hot shower and more of my massage will make you feel better. Please, bebita.”
You heave a weighted sigh when he frees you from the rest of your clothing and discards it into a pile on the floor. “Fine. It’s time to take out my cup anyway,” you grumble. You wince as you settle onto the toilet, your lower back now joining the EVERYTHING HURTS! party.
You’re focused enough on the discomfort and the task at hand that you nearly miss Javi’s eyes glued to the movements to retrieve your cup. The rise and fall of his chest is easier to clock when he’s standing there in nothing but sweatpants that leave little to the imagination. He’s so frustratingly handsome and broad and tanned – and, you’ve just noticed, cupping a tempering palm against his crotch. 
Just as you start to realize there’s something about all of this he clearly enjoys, the menstrual cup gives to your efforts and pops out of your entrance. You fumble with it for a moment, cursing under your breath as you try to keep it from plunging into the toilet water, and manage to catch it. It didn’t go into the toilet water, but it did tip all over your hand and inner thigh.
“Fuck!” you hiss, scurrying to the sink and dropping the cup into it. You can feel the pulse of blood dripping out of you as you walk, and you pray that most of it has landed on the tile. You barely let go of it before Javi is down on the floor, bracing your thighs – no, spreading them – and saying something urgently about how he’ll get it and let him help you. 
“I made a fucking mess,” you gripe. You gesture to the smears and droplets that mark your frantic trek to the sink, but Javi’s gaze doesn’t follow.
“Yes, you did make quite the mess,” he husks.
Your head snaps back to attention and meets his eyes, flickering up to yours. His cheeks are doused in splotches of heat. His tongue flits nervously over his bottom lip. There’s a supplicant, almost pained frown curving his mouth. Before you can get a firm grasp on whatever the fuck is going on, a sharp cramping sensation suddenly builds and constricts in your abdomen.
You lean over the sink to steady yourself through the cramping, face pulling tight with the discomfort of it. Javi pushes his way through until his head is wedged between the countertop and your mound. The first swipe of his wet tongue against your clit is such a sharp contrast of pleasure to the pain of your cramps that your legs nearly give.
“Let me, let me, let me,” he practically chants as he begins tonguing and licking into you in earnest, two fat fingers sliding in with the ease and slip your blood gives. Not only have you never had a partner show interest in any sort of intimacy when you were on your cycle, but you’ve never quite found any appeal in it yourself — until right about now.
Your cramping has ebbed away once more, and the only thing you can feel in its place are Javi’s thick digits pressing and stroking against your already swollen and sensitive walls. You’re not prepared for the sight of it all when you look down. His face is smeared with claret and crimson. It runs down his hand and snakes along his wrist as he works you faster. He looks almost manic in the way his eyes lock with yours.
“Let it spill out, please.”
You can’t make much sense of what he’s asking for, but the heady urgency of his energy is enough to send you over the edge. Just as your climax has you spasming a third time, he removes his hand and holds it just below the cradle of your thighs, mesmerized by the thin red string of blood that connects from his fingertips to your entrance. Another spasm sends a fresh gush of blood to follow the natural gravity of the wet trail.
Javi audibly whimpers at this and haphazardly shoves his sweatpants down far enough to free his cock and start stroking it with your fresh supply of bloody lubricant. His needy moan flips a switch in your brain, and you’re pushing him against the cabinets and straddling his legs before your brain quite configures what the driving force is behind all of this magnetic, sensuous energy.
He holds his cock steady long enough for you to sink down onto it fully, and you both gasp at the feel of it parting you, splitting you open to take him hard and fast. You roll your hips and chase the sounds of Javi losing himself in it all. His hands grip your  breasts, your thighs, your neck – all leaving a trail of your own blood scattered over your body. You don’t even care about the sticky drying feel of it like you normally would, not with Javi making such deliciously pitiful sounds.
“Come on, Javi, fuck it out of me,” comes your stilted plea. You aren’t sure why you say it, only somewhat conscious of the fact that it’s the right thing to get him even more wrapped up in all of this.
He has your back pressed against the cold tile within seconds, thrusting into you with such fervor that you slide back a few times from the force of it. “So fucking wet, bebita.” He sounds wrecked and even more so looks it.
“Fucking messy just how you like, right, baby?” you goad him, trying to latch onto whatever bits of this new thing is that’s happening that you’ve already picked up on. “Making a mess everywhere.”
He scrunches his eyes shut as if pained at the words, a whiny sigh slinking up his throat at your instigation. A frantic chain of Spanish that you catch and decipher out of order – something bebita, something torrente, something fuente.
“What, Javi? Tell me. I wanna know how I make you feel, baby. Tell me.”
His eyes tear open, jaw slack for a moment, before answering. “My little fountain, yeah? You’re going to spill all over me? I want it, bebita, please.”
The desperation in his plea stirs another orgasm in your gut. He nods, a little hectic and compelling, and rubs the pad of his thumb against your clit. Your entire body seizes up with the force of it, eyes slamming into the back of your skull as you’re taken completely off guard. The wet sound of your blood pushing out with each thrust serves as the backdrop to Javi’s guttural moans while he erupts inside you.
“Feel so good. You feel so good,” he grits out as his thrusts slow to a sloppy circuit.
You grab hold of him as tight as he’ll allow and pull his full weight onto you. It pushes the air right out of your lungs, but you don’t care. You only want to stay with him like this, keep in this little hazy, blissed out bubble. He eventually glides out of you, groaning at the blood weeping from your spent cunt as he extricates himself.
He watches in unabashed infatuation as the mixture of it and his cum leaks onto the floor. The corner of his mouth tugs up just before he strokes a finger flat against your folds, collecting bits of fluid along the way.
“What’re you–”
He grins broader with his fingertip tracing a pattern onto your already stained torso. “There. For you, bebita.” He looks up at you with eager anticipation and flashes that million kilowatt smile that makes your heart thrum wild. You crane your head to see what he’s crudely fingerpainted onto your abdomen.
“It’s a heart,” you breathe out in a laugh. “You drew me a heart with my period blood and your jizz. Wow. So romantic, Javi.”
He lets out a deep belly laugh and snatches you up into a fond embrace. “Only for you, my little fountain. Only for you.”
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paging my Javi G freak-a-leek kink bitches:@burntheedges @joelmillerisapunk @electriclasso @umnitsa @noxturnalpascal @jupiter-soups @drunk-and-capable @sheepdogchick3 @pop-sugar102 @angiewatson @sweetercalypso @lumoverheaven @5oh5 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @ghostofaboy @dilfspitdrinker @miss-mistinguett @deci3t @janaispunk @ghoulettesinspace
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yourpsicodelicbitch · 5 months
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specific astro placements and what I’ve learned from them?!? 🚩🎢
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love him (wallace wells)
*birth chart + whole sign system + tropical
basically me again calling them out and not finishing the idea I had in mind at first -what I’ve learned from some astro placements-. sorry I’m repeating placements, it’s just I’m basing my observations with the experiences I share with the ones around me. take what resonates, don’t take this seriously.
mars 2H
I’ve noticed mars 2H is not good at spontaneous stress situations bc they’re not prepared, they have to control and know what’s happening; 2H it’s the house of craving stability, security.
what I’ve learned?! more a what I admire about them it’s that they’re decided, when they take a final decision, they stay like a stubborn bitch with it.
virgo moon 7H square pluto
virgo moon 7H square pluto can provoke to make things complicated in relationships, were they can suffer a lot. they could get stuck on being friends with people they’ve been a long time with, even though they’re toxic. they’re conscious of what conducts make them feel not validated from their friends but still they bottle up or don’t take things seriously and will make like nothing happened. they feel deeply and feel their friends don’t get them as they wish but they move their head and pass the situation. they idealize their friendship -in this case-.
what I’ve learned??! I’m thankful i could recognize the situation my friend has being in? you can learn something in everything😭
saturn trine neptune with scorpio/water placements
saturn trine neptune with scorpio/water placements evidences how personal, psychological and spiritual growth affects on their way of thinking and perspective of life. and how circumstances -saturn situates- causes the person’s opinions change, to be more flexible, when in a million years they could’ve imagine even accept or look towards it. I’m referring to a traditional person with unconditional love who tries their best to comprehend others.
what I’ve learned?? more than what I admire the dedication coming from this placement.
water and air dominant dynamic
pls my mom having NOTHING in air placement and her children’s birth charts being almost with all air placements. she’s water dominant, it’s fucking CHAOTIC.
what I’ve learned??! is to being more conscious when I speak, she gets easily offended and takes things personal BUT I do admit air placements can be too RATIONAL. if they’re not emotional intelligent, they don’t even read your face and proceed to say solutions: sometimes people need only to express how they feel and not a rational solution.
lilith (mean) 1H
lilith (mean) 1H immature -bc I have the believe placements can obtain and have certain characteristics when they’re immature and when they have become mature and etc,- can be too childish, they say they don’t care what people think about them but two minutes later they’re asking what x person would say or they’re criticizing others to feel better. they’re full of their ego but they haven’t done some introspection about their issues, they could say they do but I visualize the opposite. they could be too defensive or get mad at details that, I believe, make them remember a negative emotion a memory they own.
what I’ve learned? at first I loved their energy of fake idgaf but then they spoke about how things must be, they corrected my manners, spoke as “we” when she was referring to her opinion, blablabla more, the intensity of Lilith’s energy reflecting her issues towards others was a no for me. idk I’ve learned/remembered being in tune with your energy doesn’t mean attack others energy.
obviously having this placement in your chart implicates suffering from a lot of adversities and painful situations, specifically as a child, that affected/affects your whole persona. what I’ve explain is an experience :) being in tune with your Lilith (mean) is to accept and embrace your shadow side. when the placement is “immature” they reflect their issues on others and etc.
moon 6H square uranus + 12H venus
I’m sorry I’ve fucked up the harmony of our friend group, no, I’m not really sorry -me using astrology as a way of catarsis-. this are the placements of my friend who texted me “make thing up with x(a friend of a group), I don’t feel good when my friend group is awkward”, when I was tired of the Lilith 1H person attitude I explained before. basically, this placement + aspect, when they finally founded their people, when they can feel comfortable and being themselves -a situation 12H placements experiment RARELY-, they could often idealize the idea of the group or “family” they have been searching and when they encounter others don’t see it or simply have their own perspectives etc it kills them -idk if I’m exaggerating-, want to admit it or not. they could be inestable with the moon 6h, they need a routine to not explode but at the same time it fucks them up, the stability his friend group gave him + square uranus aspect makes the stereotypical idea of 12H being more present: isolation, imbalance, etc. and the feeling they did something wrong with the situation.
what I’ve learned?? fcking nothing srry no… I can do wathever I want tf, that my way of controlling the situation is analyzing it with astrology. idk is not my responsibility to make you feel happy -doing as if I’m talking to my friend and I did, he’s kind of resentful about it, he admitted he was shocked but time helped him-.
I just have a whole analysis of a situation with placements
1H stellium + sun trine pluto
1H stellium + sun trine pluto “inmature” -I mean when they haven’t grow or do some introspection, heal, etc.- can be such a disappointment😭 sorry I don’t mean it in a way they are but in a way that…✨I had a friend I didn’t know she was gonna be such a capricious and vain lady💋. when I knew her, she initially showed a temperament and stubbornness but the other day she opposed completely to do an important task that involved other people bc she wasn’t prepared and didn’t know, I thought she was as decisive or that could confront adversities as she apparent: she wasted a beneficial opportunity and she threatened me bc I told her to calm down for the sake of others. 1H stellium makes a person have a HUGE influence, they can get too cocky and be full of themselves. also sun trine pluto aspect can be too much bc they want things done in their way and they’ll do everything to make it done, manipulating and being so stubborn you’ll get tired. I’m not affirming that aspect makes you evil and blablabla, my recommendation is to benefit yourself from the power of moving masses unconsciously instead of making a scene bc of your cockiness.
what I’ve learned?? To not judge a book it’s cover, also me having expectations towards people. I could have expected that kind of character from her bc her signature sign is virgo/virgo ascendant.
(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა ∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗ */ᐠ - ˕ -マ✩(๑>◡<๑)
♡ Based on personal experience and I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.
♡ English is not my first language.
♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer.
Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋
Do not copy. Please give me credits.
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angelthemanspanker · 2 months
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my most tinfoil hat AtS opinion is that legit straight up canon spangel was like RIGHT beneath the surface of season 5, like the show was ready to pivot in the direction of them being at least friends with benefits at a moment's notice despite fate and the censors' best efforts
Season 1 had shit like Angel's first power walk shot set against a pride flag and him awkwardly telling guys he wasn't hitting on them, going for a kinda Adam West Batman kinda gay thing where people assume that about him bc it's the early 2000s and his clothes fit VS Season 5 in the premiere alone giving us Angel correcting a guy who calls him a "little fairy" with "I'm not little" and the legendary, blog-inspiring "I have no problem spanking men" (one of which he says to a guy he's about to kill and one to a guy he knocked out, almost like Angel lets gayer behaviour slip if he's around people who can't bring it up later hm) followed by the only man we KNOW Angel has fucked literally appearing from thin air in his office
then you get Life of the Party where Angel's Whacky Magic Antics are set off by Lorne telling Angel and the person he's having sexually tense arguments with to get a room, causing him to have ill-advised hate sex he ordinarily would not have with someone he is reluctantly attracted to. and I believe in my BONES that at SOME POINT in the scripting process that that person was gonna be Spike. Even setting aside my admittedly subjective opinion that Angel and Eve had even less sexual chemistry than Xander and Willow, it just... scans. Angel and Spike have their "I need to get our faces within an inch of each other or I'll die" arguments in front of EVERYBODY in literally every episode of the season, so I feel like if Lorne was gonna say it about ANYONE it'd be about them. I will never budge from my belief that Spike still being a ghost at this point and early 2000s tv politics caused them to abandon the Angel And Spike Magically Fuck At The Party plot early in the writing process for the episode and slot Eve in there instead while Spike gets the easy-to-write-into-existing-scenes positivity thing.
and THEN. AND THEN. it becomes a plot point that the show Angel's friends are suddenly really on board with him getting back out there dating-wise (the unperson-ing of Cordelia helps here. whee.), with us all suddenly being in agreement that there is little to no danger of his curse being triggered by sex (even though both times he's lost the soul since his curse, real or imagined sex played a significant role in the moment of happiness). Like, Nina is one of the more one-dimensional characters in the Buffyverse and her midness seems to be for the purpose of setting the audience at ease that Angel's soul ain't going anywhere from hooking up with her.
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WESLEY is all for it! Wesley "Most Paranoid and Prepared For The Return of Angelus" Wyndam-Pryce is saying look man we're all rooting for you go have a relationship with a girl whose only flaw that I can come up with is that she's a werewolf. Like sir??? How can you be sure the Beautiful Engaging Young Woman Who Actually Wants You won't accidentally make Angel happy with her extremely inoffensive flavour of Nice?
Whereas if, say, there was a beautiful, engaging blonde who actually wants Angel and Angel wants but comes with the caveat that THIS beautiful blonde not only drives Angel up the fucking wall but recently had magical sex with Angel at the office party in front of the whole main cast, proving that as much as Angel gets off on screwing Spike that he is Not happy about it? I can see Wes giving the all clear on that one ngl
bonus points that Angel and Nina got the Official Couple upgrade in Smile Time which comes right before the Illyria tragedy forces Angel and Spike into the... maybe not friendly but LESS hostile dynamic they keep for the rest of the show, so the season structure of their relationship still follows a lot of the same beats. honestly besides getting a lot more moments of David Boreanaz and James Marsters trying to out-six-pack each other in their post-coital shirtless scenes the only thing you'd need to do is change the world-shattering "Me and Angel have never been intimate. Well except that one..." to something along the lines of "Me and Angel have never been intimate, I just shag the bastard"
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