Tumgik
#but i loved this shot of him in the bubble
orangekittyenergy · 2 days
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On Tails and Horns
NSFW Rolan Fic
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Tags: NSFW, 18+ only, tail touching, horn stroking, dry humping, first kiss, touch starved Rolan, she/her Female Tav, mostly sexy flirting but with smut at the end, basically all angst and anticipation really, I guess subRolan
Words: 6000 (once again this got completely out of hand)
Summary: Tav finally goes to visit Rolan in his new tower after a hard couple weeks of cleanup. Rolan is so delighted to see her and pent up with frustration and feelings that the lightest of touches is enough to make him lose all sense of himself.
Read below or direct on AO3
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Tav and Rolan sat in his sitting room for tea, perched together, far closer than Rolan had intended, on the plush couch. The velvet couch was one of the many opulent vestiges from the previous owner. Books and scrolls aside, it certainly didn’t hurt to now occupy a fully furnished tower. The large vaulted windows were flung open wide, letting in a soft breeze and low hum from the movements of the city far below.
Rolan had been delighted when she came to visit. Tav had been so busy with helping the issues in the damaged city he hadn’t been quite sure when he would see her again. But he couldn’t deny the way his heart sang when she strolled through the doors over an hour ago, hoping to catch up with him now that she had a moment to breathe. Him, of all people.
But now here they sat; having discussed the details of both of their new lives, how life in the tower and store were going, the efforts to clean up the city, and the question of what lay next seemed to hover in the air.
Tav set her cup down on the side table and gave him a soft look.
“Thank you for taking time for me. I know you’ve been busy. But I really needed this.” She said and shot him what looked like an almost shy smile. Rolan blinked hard at her, surprised at her words as much as the look on her face.
“Thank...hah! I should be thanking you. Consistently and forever.” He set his own empty cup down as well. “I would have nothing were it not for you.”
“Oh, don’t pretend to be modest. You know you were amazing in the courtyard at that battle; I don’t know if we could’ve made it through without your help.” Tav reminded him.
Rolan cocked his head, looking away a moment in thought.
“Yes, I suppose I was rather amazing. I guess Cal and Lia helped some but my spells really sealed the fate of those wretched mind-flayers.” He mused with a slight smile. Tav always knew how to stroke his ego.
“But...really...thank you, Rolan. I’ve been meaning to visit sooner. I’m still staying at the Elfsong. Maybe we can do this again? Maybe dinner perhaps?” She said, almost casually. Just tossing asking him to dinner out there as if it was nothing. 
His breath caught in his throat. Dinner. His mind rang with the word as it seeped into every corner of his brain; trying to wrap his head around what that could possibly mean. Was she asking him out? That couldn’t be so. It was casual. Two friends catching up. But still, his mind immediately pictured the scene; dinner and wine at the Elfsong. He’d love to see her in something more dressy. No, that was ridiculous. She must have dozens of suitors.
"Ahem...dinner, yes. That... would be a fine idea..” He spoke haltingly, trying to fill the silence with words, any words, while he was still trying to work through the idea in his head, a thousand different scenarios crashing together at once.
As he struggled with this concept; it seemed the deepest part of his desires to be close to her, to get to know her in possibly more than a friendly setting, that he has previously pushed away, had bubbled up again and his body decided to act for him.
Tav felt a movement on her leg and shivered.
She looked down to see Rolan’s tail curled gently but insistently around her leg just above her knee, the tip trailing down to rest on her calf. He followed her gaze and his eyes widened with shock at the impudence and betrayal of his own tail. Before he could utter out the immediate string of curses and apologies that flew into his head, in that split second of fear that gripped him, Tav moved quicker and he froze.
She raised her hand from her thigh and gently placed it on the exposed section of tail atop her leg. All thoughts fled from Rolan’s head as a hiss and a full body shudder rolled through him at her whisper light touch.
The shiver extended all the way through his tail and Tav immediately raised her hand off it as if she had been shocked, looking up to meet his eyes.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I should've asked first-"
She started as he spoke at the same time.
"I am very sorry about that damn tail, I -" he paused, her words finally reaching his muddled brain. "Ask?" The word almost caught in his throat as he choked it out, incredulous. He caught her eyes flutter down to the offending tail, still around her leg, then back up to his meet his eyes with a blush. A blush? What did she have to blush about? It was his tail that got him into this predicament.
"Yes, sorry. I'm so sorry Rolan, I've heard tails can be sensitive...I should've asked first...it was just...it was right there." She gave a nervous chuckle and glanced away.
Wonderful, now I've done and mucked everything up, Rolan thought. The mere mention of dinner from her lips had left him already in shambles, unable to even control his own cursed tail. He frowned and cleared his throat, trying to still the building throbbing in his chest and regain his usual demeanor.
"No. I mean, yes, you should have." He said brusquely at first. Her eyes flickered away again and he quickly added. "They...uh...can be sensitive in some areas, yes." He swallowed thickly suddenly quite unsure of what to say. Tav met his eyes for a brief moment then looked back down. Rolan followed her gaze, already knowing full well what he would find and saw his damned tail, somehow wrapped, so it seemed, even tighter around her leg. He cleared his throat again but made no attempt to move it despite his nerves screaming at him.
"So, can I?" Tav spoke, pulling his attention back to her face. It was tilted down but her eyes peered up at him in what seemed to be a deliberately maddening pose.
"Can you....?" He hesitated, he was sure she couldn't be asking what he thought she was asking.
"Can I touch your tail?" She finished boldly. Rolan eyed her a moment, and swallowed thickly, his brain swirling with a million thoughts and his hands starting to tremble. He crossed his arms and tried to seem nonchalant about the entire situation and realized he was failing miserably.
"Sure. Yes. You may." He uttered, hoping his voice didn't waver.
Tav reached back out, hand tentative but confident and placed her palm again on the flesh of his tail where it rested on her leg.
The sensation was like a blaze of fire through his already burning hot veins. He bit down on his tongue, hard, to avoid another offending shiver and felt his eyelids flutter, betrayal of his own self control.
Thankfully, Tav’s eyes remained fixed on his tail, not noticing the immediate and dramatic way it affected him. Or, he realized, she might be tactful enough to be avoiding his face. Her touch became more firm as she well and truly let the full weight of her hand fall on it.
A sharp hiss of air escaped his clenched teeth as her hand moved slightly and her eyes finally returned to his.
"Is this okay?" She asked. Her voice was hushed, almost...he struggled to place her tone...reverent?
"Yes, yes it's fine." He breathed out, forcing himself to let the tension in his jaw relax. She began to ease her hand up slightly, tracing the bumps and ridges with her fingertips, digits gently paving the path for her palm to follow.
Rolan felt himself flush and wondered if Tav could tell the difference between his usual ruddy hue and the deeper scarlet of his blushes.
"Does it feel....good?"
His eyes had purposefully wandered but now snapped back to hers and narrowed slightly. Her expression was unreadable and even as her haunting words echoed in his ears he, again, couldn't sense the meaning behind her tone. Did she want it to feel good? Or was it pure curiosity that caused her to ask such a charged question?
And what’s more; how should he answer?
"It...does. The tail...my tail...seems to get more sensitive the higher up it goes." He tried to answer factually, logically even. It was true after all, but as quickly as the words left his mouth he realized the possible connotation of them. An invitation even. The corners of Tav’s lips flickered with a smile and her brow raised almost imperceptibly.
"Hmmm." Was the only response she gave. But her hand continued it's ascending exploration of his tail. It was now beyond the section just on her leg and was continuing on to where it dipped down a touch by his own legs.
Leaning forward slightly to extend her reach, she continued her careful mapping of the ridges, which were getting more and more pronounced as his tail progressed. She touched him as if she wished to memorize every single bump and pore; with a tenderness he couldn’t recall ever feeling before. The feeling was indescribable, but undeniably sensual. 
Rolan felt another shudder roll through him and couldn't contain this one. He felt it vibrate through his whole body all the way through and to the very tip of his tail and it gave a little flicker of movement against her calf. He couldn't tell if he was thankful or not that this one, as it trembled it's way down through his tail, didn't scare her hand away.
He stared at her hard, suddenly frustrated at her tender movements. Did she know how good it felt? Was she teasing him on purpose? To what bloody end? It was one thing to be touched so tenderly after so long, it was quite another to have his once detested bumps and ridges being the subject of such adoration. It was altogether brutal to have it be by someone that he wasn't even sure had further intentions with him. Other than being some...strange creature to fascinate over.
He squeezed his eyes shut. No matter how good it felt, how long he had wanted this, how soft her touch was, he had to stop this.
"I think-" he popped open his eyes intending on telling her to cease her activity but found that she had shifted while he battled internally and was now right beside him, her hips almost brushing against his own, her eyes firmly locked on his, watching his reactions carefully.
He wasn't just a subject of curiosity for her. He didn't know what she thought or what the intent was, but the burning in her eyes told him that it was far more than pure detached curiosity. He swallowed away his angry words, the frustration leaving him immediately, burned away by the heat of her gaze.
Her arm was now stretched out as far as it could go, ending just where his tail dipped down beside his thigh, before it would continue back up in a curve to reach the base. Incidentally, she had reached the point right where it started to become truly sensitive. It would've been positively indecent to let her continue.
His heart drummed hard in his chest, so loud he was certain she could hear it. He should end this, for decency’s sake alone. But couldn’t bring himself to conjure the words. A larger part of him was also so very desperate for her to continue; to see how far her boldness would take her. Take them. The two battling halves of his mind fought internally against each other. His mind fractured behind too many carefully crafted layers of strict composure.
He didn't have to struggle long. With a scoot of her hips again, her thighs well and truly pressed against his now, her arm bent at the elbow, giving her room to continue should she wish.
Rolan sucked in a sharp hiss of air at this development and stared at her carefully. Her eyes never left his. Her hand still firmly in place. The very air between them felt electric as if there was some magic from an unspoken spell being cast.
"Can I keep going?" She asked with a breath. His chest ached and again it took him a moment to register something. His need and eagerness for her touch along with his conflicting thoughts at the budding situation had made his senses dull. But as her words rang in his ears he heard something unmistakable. A nervous waver. In her voice. The slightest quiver. Of excitement or nerves; it could be either but he would take it. She was usually so, confident. Commanding even. To hear even a hint of a nerve in her voice at this situation stirred his insides and dispelled his doubts.
"Yes." He answered simply before he could stop himself with too much thinking. His chest hitched as her arm extended, stroking up his tail further, still using careful attention to the now more prominent peaks of cartilage. His jaw fell open slightly. The sensation of her hand almost too much to bear as another large shudder, stemming from her hand this time and rolling up his spine all the way to his scalp took him over.
She leaned forward further, her chest now dangerously close to touching his own. As her fingertips edged ever closer to the base of his tail he felt an unmistakable groan escape his lips. Her hand froze and he clamped his mouth shut with a snap both in the same moment.
His eyes darted away from hers, embarrassment welling up inside of him.
After an aching pause, his eyes still diverted, he felt Tav remove her hand and lean back away slightly. If the touch of her skin had lit a pleasant warm fire until under his skin, the sudden absence of it was a sharp painful sting of ice. Leaving him with a longing for contact that felt worse than if she hadn't touched him at all.
He finally pulled himself back to face her and was surprised to see her looking rather abashed. Her hands were sat back firmly on her thighs, gripping the fabric, a slight blush on her face, but... he could swear…was there a hint of a smile on her pink lips? Her confounding beautiful lips. 
Rolan opened his mouth to speak but once again words failed him. What could he say that wouldn't sound needy and desperate? How could he begin to ask her to continue to touch him without begging?
"Your tail felt very nice. Very soft. Sorry if I...went too far." Tav once again came to his rescue. This time rescuing him from the aching void of silence between them. Rolan blinked hard at her words. No one ever in the history of his knowledge had call his or anyone else’s tail nice or soft. As he absorbed her judgement of his tail, he realized she was staring at him expectantly.
"No, it was fine. It felt... good." A sudden surge of his own boldness possessed him, born of the sheer desire at having her hands on him again. To feel her touch him; somewhere. Anywhere. He started speaking before he knew what he was saying. "The...horns, if you were curious about them as well, also have a certain level of sensitivity... Not necessarily at the tips, but the base..." He couldn't even believe the words coming out of his own mouth. Desire had driven him absolutely mad.
Before he could begin to second guess himself he saw that the spark that flared up in her eyes was immediate. Her hint of a smile grew into a full fledged one.
Tav leaned forward slightly again and her eyes darted up to his horns.
"May I?" She asked, raising her hands up from her thighs until they hovered just over his own. He gave a gentle nod, not trusting his own voice at the prospect of being touched again.
Without hesitation now her hands raised to each place her fingertips at the point of each horn. Rolan dipped his head forward slightly to give her better access, practically bowing towards her. His own reverence at her caring touches.
She placed her fingers gently on the tips of his horns, again tracing across the thicker bumps and ridges, feeling her way around every groove as she explored. After just a moment there, she gently slid further down from the tips, lower and lower until they were thick enough to wrap a hand around. As she did so Rolan sucked a sharp gasp of air in through taut lips. Not so much at the sensation; it was altogether different than the soft flesh of his tail, but at her willingness to touch him again.
The feeling of hands on his horns was more akin to someone brushing his hair, not that he would know what that felt like; but it was more about the way it trickled down to his actual flesh that gave him shivers. But the feeling of her so close to him again, her desire to touch him again, her tender soft hands on the harshest parts of him; that was what truly drove his senses wild and made his insides coil with hunger. The feeling of her hands gently caressing his horns sent shooting sparks of sweet sensation across his scalp and he found himself clamping his mouth shut hard again to avoid making another wanton noise.
Heeding his words she seemed to move quicker down than with his tail, but as she reached the midpoint of his horns she slowed, her grip growing more delicate and exploratory again. As her hands slid across the grooves with care the sensation, the pulsing in his skin, grew stronger and stronger until his breath hitched and his breathing grew heavy once more. He stared down at her lap, trying in vain not to look directly at her chest.
His own hands, which had been absurdly useless thus far, clutched hard against the fabric of his robe at his thighs, as another shiver rolled down his spine. He felt it flow all the way down through his tail again. His eyes shot down at it. His tail. His damned tail that started this whole thing, still carefully curled around her leg, seemed to tighten involuntarily at the shudder. He wasn’t sure if he should be blessing or cursing that it seemed to have a mind of its own; operating purely on base instinct betraying his deepest thoughts and desires.
Her hands finally reached the base of his horns and tenderly traced the bumps from where they erupted from his skin, bringing forth another unintended deep groan of pleasure from the depths of his chest. At the noise his eyes darted back up to meet hers and he found her watching him intently, her lips parted slightly.
Thankfully, her hands didn't stray, undisturbed by his obvious, even lewd enjoyment of this. They stayed; soft, tender, and so caring on his flushed burning skin.
As her hands seemed to finish their careful explorations of the flesh at the base of his horns, he still had almost half-expected her to pull away. The game complete. The research done. A dark thought rolled through him before he could stop it that this was just a bit of fun for her. Teasing him like this.
But her hands lingered. He once again found her eyes, meeting them with a deep gaze as she slid her hands down, away from his horns until she was gently cupping his cheeks. Sparks shot through his entire body and his chest heaved, almost painfully so. The moment lingered, his fear and doubt still too deeply etched into his own skin in invisible scars to make a move first. A few weeks of comfort and a few moments of tender touching couldn’t erase a lifetime of hardships and disappointments.
Thankfully, Tav, was still the more bold of the two of them. Her eyes darted obviously down to his slightly parted lips then back up to meet his as she licked her lips.
“Rolan?” She breathed out softly.
He couldn’t trust that his voice wouldn’t shake. Couldn’t trust that any possible utterance of words would snap this beautiful fantasy in two and she would dissolve. Couldn’t trust that any noise he made would break whatever spell she was under and cause her to lean away. But she lingered, unwilling to move without word from him. He swallowed thickly again and replied.
“Yes?” He finally managed to eke out with a small gasp.
“Can I kiss you?”
All of the air seemed to leave the room. She spoke so freely. So honestly. A slight hush in her words but only the tiniest hint of a quiver in her voice.
It contrasted so starkly with the tremble that coursed through his body. Of course he wanted her to kiss him. What kind of a question was that? He wanted it more than he needed to breathe. But somehow, the words out there, the possibility at hand, filled him with a deeper fear than he knew existed. A fear that threatened to overtake even his desire for her. A lingering voice that scolded him; ‘you will never quite be good enough.’
She licked her lips again and Rolan finally found the courage to quell the voice once and for all. She gave him courage. She always had. She had been there for him when no one else was; not even himself. It had always been within him, the confidence, the desires; but she had been patient enough to slowly ease it out.
“Yes, please…” He croaked out.
She leaned forward, hands still on his cheeks and placed a tender lingering kiss on his lips. The sensation of her caressing his tail was nothing compared to this. To the soft, slightly moist feeling of her warm lips pressed against his.
It sent another surge of confidence and unleashed passion coursing through his body. He could already feel his tail tightening around her leg again. His hands, trembling with anticipation and desire before, useless on his lap, now reached forward, reaching for her, eager to pull her close.
The kiss deepened, spurred on by his reaction; Tav opened her mouth, welcoming him in and leaned in further. His hands found her waist, gripping it tight as her own tongue replied to his, dancing carefully over and around his pointed teeth.
Rolan couldn’t help but groan slightly as his body lit up with sparks, every sensation he had ever felt, good or bad, seemed to pale in comparison to this divine moment. Her mouth hot against his, their breath mingling. He found his stomach was flipping over, and there was a deep aching stir in the very core of his body. Tav leaned even closer, practically in his lap now even though her hips still firmly sat on the couch beneath them.
He struggled to keep up with her tongue at first. Hers was so careful and precise and he felt sloppy and careless, sweeping along her lips and occasionally fumbling out of them as he struggled to keep up and simultaneously rushed to catch up; kissing her like it was his first and last kiss. All messy and nervous and wet and eager.
Patient as ever, Tav slowed, giving them both a moment to find the right flow, adjusting her head to tip it to the side so they could lock lips fully. He breathed out a pleased sigh into her mouth as they found a pleasant connection, leaving their awkward tongues behind.
Confidence again surging, he tugged at her hips with a new found greedy need. Greedy. He once teased her with that very word, but now very much felt the acute actuality of the word itself. He was greedy for her. He needed more of her. Now that he had been given a taste, he felt practically insatiable.
Catching note of his eager tugs, without question or request now, Tav lifted up her legs and straddled his lap, letting his body adjust to sit back against the couch. The new position allowed a new level of closeness. Her body pressed fully against his now, his pulse pounding hard between them.
Rolan felt positively dizzy. Giddy even; and that was not a word he felt he had ever used or thought of using before. He wrapped his arms fully around her back now, taking advantage of the closeness to run his hands up and down her clothed spine. His tail had released her leg at her movement and now joined his hands at her waist, resting almost scandalously against the swell of her ass. Her own hands drifted down from his face, resting on his shoulders and gently playing with the edges of his hair that rested there.
He released another shuddering moan into the kiss, feeling her body sink deeper onto his, his body still lighting up in sensations he felt he never knew before. As his mind hurried to catch up to the evolving situation and new desires continued blooming within, one thing quickly became achingly clear. Much as his tail betrayed him before, he now felt a throbbing hardness hidden under the layer of his robes and pants. He had felt it pulse and twitch earlier at her careful caresses, but now with her intentions laid bare, the situation far from friendly, and her body pressed against his, there was no denying it as the blood rushed ever further down into his groin.
For a brief moment he felt as if he was almost searching for new things to fear to ignore the comfort and passion of their kisses. As perceptive as ever, Tav seemed to notice this new wave of nerves. That, or he realized, she couldn’t help but feel his erection pressed against her due to their proximity. She finally eased her mouth away from his, allowing them both to suck in a few much needed gulps of air.
Catching his eye and leaning her forehead close to his, he felt her adjust and give a long slow roll of her hips against his hardness.
Even through the many layers of fabric the sensation of pure pleasure that tore through him was undeniable. An unmistakably vulgar groan fell from his lips before he could quell it and he felt his eyelids flutter. Tav simply smiled, and repeated the motion, spreading her knees as wide as they could go to push her hips further against him.
Rolan trembled with delight; his mind once again racing to catch up to this new development. But as his mind looked for ways to worry about this, he found himself coming up blank. The unrelenting lust and passion of the situation finally staking claim on all of his senses. It felt so good. Too good to ignore or deny further.
Another roll of her hips had his heart racing at the unimaginable level of pleasure just the mere friction of her body pressing against his made him feel. She moved more purposefully now, without pause or hesitation, grinding her very core, her own heat, against him. Her goal it seemed, lay in far more carnal pleasures than just simply driving him mad.
He dipped a hand under the edge of her loose tunic as she continued to writhe against him, and he splayed his hand across her naked back. Savoring again the feeling of her flesh against his.
It was miraculous. It was indecent. It was passionate. It was lewd. But most importantly in his head, above all else – it just felt so fucking good.
“Tav…” He groaned, unable and now finally unafraid of holding back his vocal enjoyment at this point. “If you keep going...I...I’m going...to…” Each word came out punctuated by a heavy gasping breath. He was fully panting now, the sheer ecstasy at feeling her rut against him, at the friction rubbing against his hard cock, at the entire situation really – all already so close to pushing him over the edge.
Her response was immediate. She paused her rocking and pulled back a touch to look him square in the eye. There was not a trace of annoyance in her face; just pure care for him. For his comfort.
“Do you want me to stop?” She asked, a little breathless. His throat burned. The immediacy of her response to him. Her unfaltering care for his feelings. The genuine and absolute respect. It struck him hard in the chest and felt almost as painful as the sudden loss of her delicious movements.
His eyes met hers. Part of him realized how improper this all was. He should be lavishing her with flowers and gifts. He supposed. He didn’t have much experience with it, but came to understand that was the thing to do during proper courtships. But a deeper part of him didn’t care. The city was in crumbles around them. They had defeated an army of mind-flayers and he himself had been to hell and back. To the hells with what was proper. He had tied his life to being stifled and composed; there was a time and place for it and now was neither.
“No, please don’t stop.” He finally breathed out. She grinned and leaned back in for another sweeping kiss, immediately resuming the pulsing and rocking of her hips against his. His entire body filled to the brim with burning fire again and another loud moan fell from his lips and the return of the sensation that was bringing him to the brink.
Tav was moaning too, he realized, soft breathy sounds, her breath hot against his ears. Provoked by the idea that she was possibly getting even a tiniest bit of the same level of pleasure from this that he was, he sat up slightly. He wrapped his arms fully around her, drawing her closer and holding her tight.
All last thoughts of maintaining composure well and fully gone, he thrust his groin up in time with her own movements. It took him a moment to find the right rhythm, the practice of movements such as this not in his natural repertoire. But before long they synced up in unison and increased the pace.
“Yes. Tav. Please. Tav. Please. Yes.” Words spilled from his lips with each jerking movement as the sensation within him built to a feverish peak. As the tingling feeling crested within him, at the last moments, all words seem to fail. Only moans and salacious grunts remained.
His grip tightened around her waist, one clawed hand grasping at her shirt, the other leaving scratches on her bare back as his body begin to coil and tense. It was the moment just before a spell releases, that last uttered syllable as it traveled from throat to teeth to air, bringing forth all kinds of magic into existence. He met her eyes again and she was that moment.
Her face was flush from her exertions, her pupils blown wide, staring at him with pure desire, her absolute and incessant need to take care of him. Him.
A last roll of her hips and he was done. He cried out obscenely as his tension released and he came so hard that his head spun. His cock pulsed, pressed hard between them, spilling his seed in his pants beneath his robe. As waves of his orgasm crested and rolled through his shaking and sputtering body, he felt his whole body begin to release in a way he didn’t think was possible. He tossed his head back to lean on the back of the couch it seemed like every muscle in his body went limp at once. He indeed thought he might pass out with the way his heart pounded in his chest and he sucked in deep gasps of air; thinking he might never catch his breath.
Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind he thought of the mess he had made, in his own clothes no less, but it was quickly overtaken by the feeling of Tav leaning close, looking to close the gap he had created by sinking into the couch.
She placed a wet kiss against the throbbing pulse of his neck and nuzzled her face there while he rode out the high of his own selfish, greedy pleasure.
After a moment of deep breathing and bliss, his heart started to calm and points of panic and fear started to creep back into his mind one by one. He adjusted his head slightly to sit up, needing to face her. Feeling him move, Tav sat up further as well to meet his eyes, but made no move to climb down off his lap.
“Can I still take you to dinner?” He asked quickly as their eyes met, addressing the most pressing of his concerns; that this was just a little fling. He pulled his hand back out of her shirt, wanting this to feel as formal and romantic as possible now, given the situation. Tav smiled brightly and gave an eager nod, leaning in for a quick, and rather chaste, kiss.
“I would be a little offended if you didn’t.” She raised a brow at him. “How about tonight?” She suggested and he once again reveled in her boldness. A quality, he quite felt, that was rubbing off on him.
Rolan cleared his throat; it would be next to impossible to regain full composure after what they had done, but he still tried.
“Yes. Grand. Wonderful. Great. We shall...um… have dinner tonight then.” He said, sounding almost curt in his attempt to seem collected.
Tav was utterly unfazed by his tone and gave him another smile and a tender kiss on his lips before starting to try and disentangle herself from his hands and tail, intending on standing up.
Despite the embarrassing mess in his pants, despite the awkwardness of the situation, despite her trying to start to pull away; he found himself pulling her back. His whole body, not just his tail this time, speaking for him and refusing to let her go. He pulled her back in tightly and pressed his cheek to hers, letting his eyes shut with a soft sigh as her warm body enveloped his.
Tav paused a moment before giving in and wrapped her arms around his neck, relaxing herself back into his arms.
“Can we just…stay like this a moment more?” He whispered softly into her neck before he lost the courage to do so. He found himself struck with a deep fear at letting her go. It overtook any apprehension he felt about actually giving his feelings a voice. What if she didn’t come back? What if something happened to her? What it what if what it. But, most striking among his worry, was the ache he could already feel at lack of contact. Now that he had felt her touch he didn’t think he could survive without it.
“As long as you like.” Tav whispered back with a smile against his cheek.
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twigg96 · 3 days
Text
Within These Walls
Pairing: Daryl x Reader
Era: CDC
Warning: Smut, Lap Dances, Thigh Riding, Clothed Sex, Hand Jobs, Cum Shots, Love Cofessions
18+ only
Summery: In the safety of the CDC you two find enjoyment of each others bodies.
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Safety was a illusion at best in this new world. The Quarry which you had spent more than a month had been overrun with walkers. Most of the people you had to know as friends had either died, run off, or went missing.
But here in the sanctity of the CDC building, you felt an overwhelming sense of serenity. Normalcy. There was a roof over your head, central air, plumbing, and shampoo. But most of all there was booze. Enough to get pleasantly tipsy and buzzed. Playfully so. Daryl had started a drinking game with Glenn who had never had a drink in his life.
You had a few with your boyfriend sharing in the whiskey you watched him down it easily, teasing your Korean friend who flushed with the first drink. Where the others went you didn't know. Nor did you care to ask. You were too happy.
You lost count of the amount you had. You knew Daryl hadn't kept score even though he promised to remember for Glenn in the morning. But the two of you stumbled to the room you shared for the night wincing at the sound of Glenn loosing the game directly into the shitter.
"Damn... I had ta piss." Daryl sighed with a chuckle, blinking at you slowly. "I'll be back. I'm goin' ta another room." He murmered hugging the wall for support as he left the room.
Shrugging you couldn't help the giggle that ripped through you. Bubbly from booze you kicked your boots off beside the bed stumbling from one side to the other as you hopped on one foot to pull your foot free. Sliding and kicking your jeans off you kicked them off your legs before you freed your body from your tank top with a resounding sigh.
The room was large with not too much to it. Two twin beds. One you'd share with Daryl, not that either of you were complaining, and the other Glenn would get to himself. A closet held extra clothing of people from the past. Pulling back the door and snooping for too long sent shivers down your spine.
A dresser in the room however held work clothes. Long sleeve button downs for men that were much too large on your slender body you giggled as you slid it over your naked frame. Flailing the sleeves around you smirked finding several ties of various colors and patterns shoved in the drawers.
"Looks like yer havin' fun." Daryl purred from behind you. Turning with a devilish smirk you watched his eyes skate down your body to what little panties peaked from under the work shirt to your plush naked thighs. "Damn girl your gonna be the death of me..." He whispered licking his lips.
With all the confidence of the liquor in your veins, you dared to bend over just enough to let the shirt ride up your thighs a little more before you wiggled your hips teasingly. “Oh. I know.” You giggled. Standing straight once more you strode over to him. A sweet sensual smirk on your lips. Reaching out a hand to his chest you circled him letting your fingers trail across his body as you did. “Your soooo tense.” You murmured. “Let me take care of that.” Turning Daryl at the same time. "Have a seat, sir." You whispered walking him back until his knees hit the edge of the bed.
Pushing him back once more so he fell into a sitting position, you started to dance for him. A dance only you and Daryl could hear the music to. Turning and dipping, he smiled as you swayed for him. "You doin' a little lap dance fer me babe?" He asked blatantly grabbing your ass with both hands. With a little gasp you nodded. "Mhm. Anything for you." You whispered. Daryl's groan went straight to your core. His fingers massaged the sensitive flesh at your hips before he let you go once more. "A'ight girl..." He murmured low and sultry. "Do your worst."
Smiling back at him you lowered yourself down onto his lap. Your arms reaching back to wrap around his neck pulling him tight to you. Spreading your legs wide you straddled him. His growing bulge pressed right to your soaked panties in such a way that sent delightful shivers up and down your spine. Goosebumps coated your skin as you gasped with the first tentative roll of your hips in the dance you had planned for him.
"Thought the dancers weren't supposed ta..." Daryl tensed fending off a moan as you ground down on him once more. "Ta enjoy themselves while they danced..." He whispered his caloused hands grabbing your hips once more. Giggling you laid your head back on his shoulder, kissing his jaw then his cheek. "Yeah... but that's with incentive of money." You cooed swirling your hips around skillfully on his clothed cock, loving the way he twitched and ground back into you. So sensitive from the alcohol. “Mmm. And you know I aint got none of that.” He purred into the shell of your ear his hot breath tickling you in the most delicious ways. “Damn straight. So just take what you get.”
His nails dug into your hips painfully. Each rotation sending a new wave of pleasure down your spine to the very tips of your toes. By the time you began to rut back and forth searching for a clothed release he had both hands securely around your waist panting like a dog in heat. "Fuck... babe." He moaned his head bowed as if in prayer watching you work him with all the admiration and love in the world.
Electricity flowed through your veins and sweat began to bead on your skin. The white shirt you put on for Daryl quickly became transparent at the top of your breasts. Teeth skated down the side of your ear to your neck as Daryl's hands slid from your waist to your thighs with a bruising grip spreading your legs wider allowing you to get a better angle on your pussy for a while. But his soon his selflessness ran dry, stilling you for a moment.
Whining you wiggled in defiance, but as two thick fingers slid past your gusset, moving it to the side your whines turned to closed eyed whimpers. Two calloused fingers rubbed sweet circles into your swollen clit. Bucking your hips to meet him your fingers wound into his short hair pulling at the short stubble on the back of his neck. Drool dripped from your lips and chin to your exposed chest, your eyes closed in bliss. “Bet that feels better than my thigh…” He whispered sucking a hickey onto your collar bone.
But before it could truly get good it stopped. Whining as Daryl pulled his hand away the coil in the pit of your belly that started to build disappearing. "Turn" he ordered, motioning in a circle with his free hand. "Yes, sir." You cooed turning in your boyfriend's lap, reveling in the mess you made of him.
He was hard and pressing against his jeans but mostly you had stained them beyond repair. So much so he was soaked through down his legs looking as if he had pissed himself. Straddling his thighs once more you stared down into his lust blown blue eyes. “Now.” He whispered. “Now we can keep going’.”
Smirking at him you pushed back on his shoulders laying his body back gently against against the sheets. Trailing your fingers down his body you hummed licking your lips. Daring to slip your fingers under his tank you stopped in your ministrations feeling Daryl tense under you. Sitting on your knees you leaned down over him, your hair curtaining you both in a veil of feigned privacy. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave it on.” You whispered, your lips brushing over his.
Daryl hummed under you, relaxing once more under the warmth of your love. Closing his eyes he palmed your hair crashing your lips together. Teeth clattering. Tongues fighting you gapped for breath when you finally pulled away. A long string of spit connecting you both as you sat back up.
Unbuttoning his jeans you giggled at the hiss you earned in reward. The pressure released his red tip sprung to the surface to greet you over the band of his boxers. Taking him into your hand, you freed him of the binds of his jeans and boxers shoving them down just enough. “Awe babe.” You cooed. “All this for mee…?” You hummed swiping your thumb over his red tip beading with pre-cum. Throwing his head back against the bed Daryl hissed through his teeth his hands reaching for you but only finding purchase in the scratchy sheets. “Mmm. Fuck babe.” His eyes squeezed shut, his hips desperately tried to buck up to meet you but the weight of you sitting on his legs kept him from going far.
Taking mercy on him you interlaced your fingers with his lifting your other hand to your mouth. Using your pointer finger and thumb you played with it a moment. Letting it string, catching Daryl’s curious gaze before sucking it up greedily. “Mmm.” You hummed smirking into your fingers as Daryl’s jaw fell slack his dick twitching between your thighs. “Fuck me babe.” He groaned as you released your fingers with a pop and licked a strip down your palm.
“That’s the plan.” You hummed grabbing his dick with your slick hand you began pumping him nice and slow at first. The gasp and groans he made were sinful at best. But you knew somewhere deep down he could make better sounds. He was holding back. Squeezing ever slightly tighter you moved faster using the cum that pooled at the tip to help slick your hand you watched his eyes roll into the back of his head. His breath caught in his throat and the hand holding yours squeezed so tight you were certain he would break your fingers. A single high pitched needy desperate whine escaped his throat before he pulled you hard by the hand he held.
Falling flat onto his chest you barely had yourself propped up before he was rutting blindly into you’re exposed pussy. “Need ya.” He whimpered. “Now. No-not gonna last.” He whined once more.
Nodding you kissed his lips your entire body tingling not only from the need you shared with Daryl but the love you shared with him. Reaching between you both you stilled his hips with a touch. Grabbing him once more, he hissed over sensitive. Guiding yourself down onto him you gave him a look. One asking for consent that he gave freely before you placed him against you pushing him into you.
The bliss that over came you at being full of him. It was all you had ever craved while in the Quarry and more. A need while on the road you couldn’t reach with others around. Silent quickies weren’t always enough. Not when you had the whole of a bedroom to your disposal. You felt both hot and full of electricity at once. Tossing your head back with a wonton moan you bounced carelessly on him. His hands found your bruised hips adding more to your collection. Arching his back he rutted desperately into you. The whine was back. High pitched desperate and needy he cried out your name like it was the last day on earth. With every movement he became louder. But so did you. Your cries of pleasure echoed the walls and bounced back into your ears carelessly. His name like a prayer to you as you neared your climax.
“Gonna… where do you want it?” Daryl bit out his sweaty arms slinking around your waist. You couldn’t think. Every thought was of him. This moment. You never wanted it to end. Before they blurred into pudding and you moaned. “D-Don’t care.” You whined clinging to him, nails biting so deep blood pooled under the skin. “Just… Oh God!… Don’t you dare stop!”
Gasping your breath caught in your throat. Your vision blurred and turned white your hips stuttered and then stilled as your body tensed. Head back in ecstasy you felt Daryl pumping into you pleasure so intense like a drug it hurt the coil that built and built inside your core before it bust.
Screams of admiration escaped you as you came. Certain everyone in the damned CDC could hear your scandalous sin you didnt dare stop. Skin slapping skin, nails dragging, teeth biting, the sounds you made became your new favorite song. Ridding your high and your boyfriend you basked in the stars he made you see.
Pulling you tight to his body Daryl stilled his hips jerking wildly. Grunting like a wild animal. “Gonna…” He whined. “Fuck.” He whimpered pulling you off of his cock desperately by your hips, rolling you both to the side. You watched in a hazed bliss as he clambered to his knees beside you taking his cock in his hand move so fast you were sure it would rip from his body. Strings of cum painted you. Or rather the work shirt you ‘borrowed’ staining it in a pattern you realized you rather preferred over plain white. Before Daryl collapsed beside you on the bed.
Catching your breaths as if you had both just outrun hordes of walkers you couldn’t help but smile cuddling close despite your rancid smelling sex you burrowed your head under his kissing his Adam’s apple and sternum. “I love you.” You whispered. Daryl hummed his fingers skating your spine. “Love you too.” He whispered. It was the first time either of you had admitted the fact though both of you knew it was true.
Sleep came easy that night. You wish it came so easy every night after but your luck in the facility would soon run out.
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lipglossanon · 2 days
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Gloom
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Serial Killer!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader <one shot>
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, troubled reader, violent/dark thoughts, flirting, Leon abusing his bartender privileges 😆, for once no smut!
not proofread; this has been languishing in my drafts and I’m tired of looking at it—don’t know if I’ll add to it or not
title from Gloom by Djo
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Clawing anger stirs in your chest, pricking you like the briar bushes outside your granny’s house. It feels like you’ve tumbled face first into the thorny tendrils, pointed tips digging into your skin, blood dripping like sweat across your skin. Shaking off the phantom sensations, you peer back out across the dance floor. 
You smile, pretending to be happy, mask firmly in place. Good people grin and bear it, don’tcha know? Eyes landing on the table full of people you’d rather never see again, almost without conscious thought, makes your skin itch. The feeling of unfairness fizzes in your blood like carbon bubbles. You hate them. Hate these feelings all stirred up like a kicked hornets nest. 
You hope they get hit by a truck, shanked in an alley, acid thrown in their eyes. It’s hateful and spiteful but you can’t stop the thoughts once they start. Maybe they’ll fall down the stairs and break their leg, bleed out a slow death all alone. Or pushed off the roof of a building, not so tall they have a heart attack before splattering across the cement. Maybe they’ll trip holding a pair of scissors, the pointed end puncturing their eye—
“You need another drink?”
The voice pulls you away from staring across the room to the bartender standing behind the counter. 
“No,” you shake your head, eyes dropping to your glass, water still near the rim. 
“You seem a bit perturbed,” he offers, propping his hip against the drink station, arms crossing and showcasing his thick biceps.
“It’s nothing,” your airy response only makes his eyebrows raise in amusement.
“I’m sure that group over at the table would love to hear how they’re nothing,” he grins when you glare at him.
“What do you care..” your eyes glance at his name tag, “Leon?”
“I don’t,” he shrugs easily, “but you do and I hate to see a pretty lady in distress.”
You snort, eyes rolling, “I’ll bet you say that to anyone with tits.”
His grin widens, “True, but I always mean what I say.”
Someone on the other end flags his attention and Leon leaves you to your intrusive thoughts and untouched water. Your lip curls in a sneer as someone gets up from the table he mentioned and walks over to the bar. They flirt with Leon who you notice gives you a quick side eye before making a round of drinks. 
Once he’s finished up, he walks back over to you with a smarmy little swagger. 
“Miss me?” 
You shake your head, gaze still zeroed in on the bitch taking the handful of drinks he just made back to the table. More people come up to the bar and Leon slips away, busy for several long minutes. While he’s mixing whatever cocktail an older lady and her friend ordered, your eyes widen in surprise to see a few people at that specific table suddenly make their departure towards the restroom. 
“It didn’t kick in as fast as I thought,” Leon muses next to you— a little put upon sigh slipping out for good measure, “they’ll definitely be calling it a night once they’re not puking their guts out.”
Delightful vindictiveness makes you smile broadly at him; it must surprise him because he only looks at you stupidly as you thank him. 
“Didn’t I tell you I hate seeing a pretty lady in distress,” he recovers quickly enough, a pleased smile making him seem boyish and sweet, “besides they seem like stuck up cunts. And not the fun kind.”
You watch with a sort of childlike awe as he goes about the rest of his shift, chatting up customers and making drinks. The table of cunts, as he so politely put, cleared out once the others returned looking sick. 
“I’m off work in ten minutes,” he appears next to you, making you jump. 
“And?”
He drums his fingers on the side of your glass, “Might wanna get your last call in before I walk you home for the night.”
He slips away before you can argue and ten minutes later, he’s helping you with your coat and holding open the door. Once you’re a comfortable distance away from the bar, you turn to him. 
“What did you use?”
“Ah,” he taps the side of his nose with a grin, “that would be telling.”
Your eyes narrow and he laughs. 
“Just a little something I like to keep on me,” he ducks to the side to whisper in your ear, “it’s not the worst thing I’ve used on someone.”
He pulls away, looking pleased as punch, and it makes your heart flutter in excitement. 
“Thanks,” you offer, looking back to the sidewalk in front of you, “it was nice.”
“Oh my absolute pleasure,” he sighs happily, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, “do they come in every week?”
“Yes,” you bite your lip in thought, “usually at the same time.”
“Shall I give them something a bit stronger then?” He murmurs quietly, eyes glittering when you pause to look back at him. 
“There’s something wrong with me.”
You didn’t mean to blurt that out, but it is what it is; he shrugs, total nonchalance, that makes you frown. 
“I want them to hurt. I want them to feel awful. I wouldn’t mind if they died.”
His smile’s a sharp brittle knife, “I can help with that last one.”
Your heart flutters again, and you twist to face him fully. 
“You mean that?” Your eyes stare into his calm blue gaze, “you don’t even know me.”
“Does it matter?” He grins playfully, “besides you seem like the kind of girl who would appreciate it.”
Those intrusive thoughts come back, flashing the various ways you’ve pictured those same people being hurt. Your hands reach up to curl your fingers in the collar of his jacket.
“Do you want help?”
He laughs delightedly, his own hands gripping your hips before sliding up to pet your ribs. He slides your noses together, before hovering his lips over your mouth. 
“How do you want to help me, sweetheart?”
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sassypossumm · 1 day
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Terrors Of The Night
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Art cred: mofroggery on insta A part 2 for 'Someone Else' or as I'm more lovingly calling it, when two emotionally constipated people catch feelings...
“What on earth?” Miguel stood before the mouth of an open grave. Realizing how close he was to the edge, he took a step back, only to be met with a solid form behind him. Long dangly fingers gripped the back of hid head and pushed him forcefully to his knees.
"Look at what you did." A reedy voice hissed.
“No!” Miguel shouted, fighting against the hand. It didn’t budge. He were pushed onto his stomach to look into the grave.
"All because you couldn't save them." Frothy liquid began bubbling toward him, and another hand, this one shriveled and maggot ridden reached towards him, uttering a single word before launching for his face.
MONSTER!
"Miguel!"
His eyes shot open at the cool touch of a hand on his hair. Miguel's chest heaved as he struggled to breath, panicking as his eyes cast to and fro in a vain attempt to navigate the darkness.
"Hey, hey, shhh."
Miguel squeezed his eyes shut and focused on your voice. Your voice? His brows furrowed and he whispered your name roughly.
"Yeah, it's me." There it was again. Your voice. A soothing balm in an otherwise arid and unforgiving desert. Slowly Miguel opened his eyes and turned his head to look in your direction. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he took in the concern covering your features.
"How did I- how did you- AH!" His eyes squeezed shut again and he shook his head. "Esto no tiene sentido." He grumbled irritably through clenched teeth as he struggled to make sense out of his confused state.
"Easy, big guy." You murmured, running a soothing hand through his damp hair. At your touch his heart stuttered, and his back muscles tensed. "You swung by a few hours ago." His whole body tensed.
"Your place?" The words came without him even realizing he'd uttered them.
"Yeah. Not really sure how you knew where I live, but you found me." Looking down at his confused expression, you chuckled softly and smoothed back his hair. "And woke me rather rudely, might I add."
"I don't- I don't remember." He muttered more to himself than you. Miguel growled in frustration, and his talons pierced the sheets. Your sheets. That thought ran down his spine like cold water and he fell out of your bed in a scrambled attempt to right himself.
"Hey, it's okay, it's okay." You reached out to touch his shoulder, but Miguel began furiously raking a hand through his hair and pacing the short distance between your bed and the window.
"It's not okay!" He hissed. Your eyes widened. Miguels lips were parted, exposing his fangs. His hair was wild, his eyes taking on a raw intensity as he tracked your features. You'd never seen him like this.
"Shock!"He spat, breaking eye contact with you to pace again. "Estúpido." He growled, dragging his hand roughly through his hair. "Cabrón." You winced at the venom in his voice.
You sighed and ran your fingers over the tears he'd made in your sheets as he paced. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back. And. Forth. And you didn’t have to be fluent in spanish to know he was cursing himself.
"This isn't how I wanted to, urgh, shocking idiot!" His forehead made solid contact with your wall and your heart clenched with the dull thud. Tentatively you eased off the bed and padded to the other side of the room.
"This isn't how you wanted to... to what, Migs?" You said softly, resting a hand lightly on his back. His muscles tensed in response, and you couldn't help the fleeting idea that you'd love to help him work out those- You were thrown off balance when Miguel turned and hoisted you into a bone crushing hug.
"Lo siento." His voice was muffled as he buried his face in your hair, his tightening arms pulling a surprised squeak from you. Under the sudden assault, you struggled to string two thoughts together when he released you, only to instead cup your face in his hands.
Tilting your face up, Miguel brushed the pads of his thumbs under you eyes. A shiver ran through you at the rough sensation, the faint outline of his talons grazing your delicate skin. Your eyes fluttered shut and your jaw clenched. Miguel's lips brushed over your right eye. Then, the left. And slowly, his lips trailed down your skin until they met your clenched jaw. Reflexively your jaw relaxed, and your hands bunched into the material of his t shirt.
"I-" His eyes searched your for understanding as he struggled to put words to his swirling thoughts. You shook you head subtly. The intensity in his eyes mellowed to a warm red glow as he pressed his face into your neck again, clinging to you like a lifeline.
"I like you too, Migs." You murmured into his hair. Miguel's grip tightened on you, cradling you against his taught form.
"Gracias."
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THE CHASE - PART 5 | Hangman x Reader
Hey, Hi, Hello! I'm not back full time, but I did have some down time when my little one napped and finally finished this part. Am I super happy with how it turned out, not really, BUT It's still cute and fluffy and we get to see more of Jake with heart eyes. Thank you again for all your patience and support!
2336 words! No Warnings
Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Bartender!Reader
Without further adieu
--
Jake took his seat across from you in the warmly lit restaurant as you took in your surroundings. When the waiter handed you the menu you opened it and surveyed the offerings, and of course the price. Once the waiter had disappeared you quickly shut the menu and looked at Jake, eyes wide. “Jake, this is ridiculously expensive, we don’t have to eat here” your voice was near a whisper. He simply chuckled “you said you wanted to be wined and dined, for a first date, this is the best you can get” He seemed completely unphased and you balked at him. Jake looks up from his menu and gives you a smile, a real fond, cheek dimpling smile full of pearly white teeth. You're so distracted by the smile and the feeling it gives you that you nearly miss him reaching his hand across the table to grasp yours, his calloused thumb rubbing the top lightly “first off, Uncle Sam pays me just fine to be able to afford this - granted, not every night, I prefer home cooking anyways, but on a special occasion, or a first date, especially with you, this is pennies, Darlin’.” 
The flutter you felt at his words and at the gentle look he was giving you was unnerving, but not unwelcome. The all familiar nickname he had for you sounded different tonight, in the way he said it. In that time, he had returned his attention to the menu - but the smile had not faltered from his face. You realized you weren’t going to win and so you regarded the menu again, before selecting a lower priced main course option in your head. That is, until Jake looked at you and suggested ordering an appetizer platter that included a few options of everything. When you didn’t oppose, He smiled at you “what are you thinking about for dinner?” you shrugged nonchalantly, and told him your option, the salmon sounded good and was not as highly priced as the rest of the menu items. “I was thinking about the Ribeye to be honest, now nothing really beats Texas BBQ but I’ll give it a shot.” He flipped the menu page and looked at the drinks, while you peeked at the price of his entree selection, that’s when you decided to revise the selection of your main course to something a little higher to match. You did say wine and dine after all.
When the waiter came back, Jake offered for you to order first, when the waiter asked about drinks to get started, he straightened up slightly “Did you see any bottle of wine you wanted?” immediately you shook your head “you pick, they all look so nice.” Jake wore a small smirk “fine” He showed the waiter his selection on the menu, to which he nodded, took the menus and disappeared. You shook your head at Jake, a small smile playing on your face “you ordered one of the more expensive ones didn’t you?” his grin widened and shook his head “not telling, you’ll just have to enjoy it.” a small laugh bubbled out of your lips “you continue to surprise me.” 
The waiter returned once more with the wine bottle, presented it to you and offered you a taste before serving, to which you accepted. He poured a small amount in your glass and you swirled it, before sipping it. The red wine Jake had chosen was full bodied, warm and had notes of spices dancing across your tastebuds, it would go lovely with the menu options you had both selected. When you nodded your approval, the waiter topped up your glass before serving Jake and leaving the bottle on the table, and returning to the kitchen, presumably to retrieve your appetizers.
You lifted your glass, holding it up “cheers” Jake smiled at you and tipped his glass to clink with yours “cheers to the first date”. You could barely hide the smile that graced your face as you brought the glass to your lips and took a sip, reveling in the fact you were truly on a date with Jake Seresin, the man of your desires and of your nighttime fantasies for the past 3 months, and even though there was still that little voice in your head screaming at you that you were just going to get hurt, you couldn’t help but let yourself feel excited. “So” Jake recalled your attention to him, green eyes sparkling with a little mischief. “I’m really curious to know, why do you usually only call me by my call sign and everyone else by their names?”
Jake had been dying to know the answer to this question since he met you. It was only in the last 7 days that you had called him by his first name and he folded his hands in front of him on the table, watching you digest his question and take another sip of wine before setting the glass down “it’s a little embarrassing…” he shrugged slightly “would you tell me anyways? Or is it a second date kind of question?” you laughed and took another sip of wine, hoping it would increase your courage to tell him the truth “I was hoping it could wait until dessert at least.” Jake just waited patiently while you seemed to prepare yourself to tell him your answer.
“I’ve only ever heard what all the other girls and bartenders have said about you at the Hard Deck” you watched a scowl breach his lips but he stayed silent and you continued “and I thought, that if I kept the persona of Hangman in my head, I wouldn’t let myself get attached and fall for you…” you sighed and avoided his gaze, which you could feel boring into you “that  didn’t work. I’ve played hard to get because I liked you a lot and I was - I am, worried about getting hurt.” 
Jake considered your words, it’s true that he had a very flyboy persona, where he used to leave with whatever badge bunny would strike his fancy that night. He always made it clear that there were no strings attached, hookup only, until he met you anyways. Before you, some of the girls had gotten their hopes up, feeling as if they were entitled to more than just sex with him, which is presumably what you had heard from previous bartenders. He had a type apparently, which caused Penny to lose more than one decent extra hand and though she had a soft spot for the Dagger Squad, him included, the Hard Deck came first to her. 
Jake met your eyes, sincerity echoed in them, “I know I’ve got a bit of a reputation, but I’m here to prove to you that I’ve changed.” You had been open and candid with him, and it was his turn to return the sentiment. “Did I hope to get you to come home with me the first night I met you, yes absolutely I did, but when you didn’t even give me the time of day, I was awestruck. You have time and time again proved that you don’t need any man to make things happen and I’ve grown to respect that, and frankly, the way you put me in my place most of the time is a huge turn on.” You blushed as his praise washed over you, surprised that he would be this honest with you. When you didn’t reply, he continued “Darlin’ I’ve been spending the last three months trying to get your attention in any way you’ll give it to me, because I can’t get you out of my head. When you finally agreed to this date, I knew I had one chance to not fuck this up royally because you’re that kind of girl.” Jake cut his speech a little short, afraid to admit that you were the girl. The one he would be proud to bring home to his mama and friends in Texas, the one he could see with his Nan’s ring on her finger and a matching gold band on his own. The one he wanted to come home to every day, and pick him up at the end of deployments. He felt like he was in one of those hallmark Christmas love story movies that he used to watch with his Nan, at the part where the guy realizes that the girl he loved the entire time is right in front of him but he’s been denying it because he was scared. Hell, the only thing Jake was scared of right now is you telling him you wanted to be just friends. 
You sat across from him, listening to him pour some of his heart out before the main course even arrived and once he was finished you just smiled “youre right, You do have one chance to not fuck this up royally…” You paused, mostly for dramatic effect but also to sip your wine and then continued “but you’re doing a pretty good job so far.” You watched as Jake let out a breath he had apparently been holding and gave him a small smile, which he returned tenfold, and the waiter brought over your main courses.
“I was mortified!” You laughed with Jake, sharing a piece of chocolate cake as dessert as he recounted the story of how he threw Maverick out of the bar and found out that it was his CO the following day. Dinner had been fantastic and full of great conversation between the two of you, you’d learned more about his family and he learned more about you. Now, as you shared a decadent dessert, you knew that trying not to fall for him would be impossible, because you’d already fallen so hard, and so fast. “Thank you, this was really nice.” You took one more lick of the sweet chocolate cake off your spoon as he waved the waiter over for the check and filled out his information while tucking the credit card into the pocket and handing it back. “You don’t have to thank me, just… let me take you out again, and be the only guy that can take you out, I don’t feel like fighting with Rooster for your attention.” You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips as he tucked his card back into his wallet “I have to give Rooster attention when he’s ordering drinks from me.” Jake wrinkled his nose “nah, just tell him to order them from Jimmy.” you smiled again and took his arm as he stood and offered it to you “Let me take you home, and hope to god that I can get a kiss goodnight on your front porch” You rested your head on his shoulder, keeping the soft smile on your lips. You were definitely giving him a goodnight kiss on your front porch.
He opened the door and helped you into the truck, just like he had when he picked you up, and when he climbed in on his side you reached across the console to hold his hand. He looked at your joined hands surprised but then smiled at you as he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it softly, before turning the engine and starting the drive back to your place.
On the drive back, the cab of the truck was filled with your combined laughter as you both sang along to the radio - albeit badly. Jake held your hand the entire way home and you let him, as you were thinking about where you really wanted this to go. You thought about the nights coming home alone from the bar, and how many times you saw him leave with other women, how much it gutted you, and how you wished he didn’t give you the butterflies that he did. However now that his attention was all on you, things were different. As the truck slowed in front of your house, the air in the cab prickled with electricity. You looked over at Jake as he turned off the truck’s engine and his eyes met yours. Then he opened his door and made his way around to your side, opening the door and holding out his hand for you. Taking his hand he helped you out of the truck, and walked you up to the door.
“Well, I hope tonight exceeded your expectations of me” He shot you a cheeky smirk, but you could tell it was in earnest, and that he was nervous. You nodded and leaned back against your door, your hands folded behind you to hide the fact that your fingers were twitching to run through his hair and down his button up, a smile playing on your lips. “We should do it again sometime…” His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he nodded “yeah, I’d love to take you out again.” You looked up at him, admiring the straightness of his jaw, the perfect cupid’s bow of his lips, his eyebrows furrowed in thought or concentration, you weren’t sure, and the subsequent lines that were drawn across his forehead. You reached out with your fingers to lightly smooth those worry lines away as you took a small step closer to him and whispered “Are you going to kiss me goodnight?” He seemed to visibly relax under your touch as he slipped one hand to your waist, the other cupping your jaw and making you draw in a slight sharp breath. You felt so dainty in his hands, his fingertips brushing against the small hairs at the back of your neck as he held your jaw. Jake’s eyes searched your face for any sign of protest before leaning down and slanting his lips across yours and kissing you for the very first time.
--
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muiitoloko · 2 days
Note
hellooo 💘 sorry for asking, I'm studying for an important chemistry test that I have tomorrow, and I really need some Eli comfort 🫠 Idk if you feel inspired or just if you want, could we have a good fuck post-exam? like, reader has some chemistry exam and when she gets home to him he's happy and proud because his sweet girl passed the exam 🫠and idk just some fuck lost-exam still in Eli's style but with praise and love because they're both happy? 🫠 (I swear if that's not gonna be me tomorrow I'm gonna scream) plus, could I ask for some comfort after the "love-making"? 🫠🫠
only if you want to, of course 💘💘
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Title: Experiments
Summary: Eli performs experiments after you pass the chemistry test.
Pairing: Eli Michaelson × Fem! Reader
Warnings: Smut
Author's note: Hey there! No need to apologize at all! Chemistry tests can be a real pain in the molecule, right? 😅 But hey, I'm totally down to whip up a post-exam celebration with Eli! And good luck on your chemistry exam! 🎉💕
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As you burst into your happy home, the exhilaration of your victory bubbling up inside you, you couldn't contain your excitement. With a triumphant whoop, you threw your backpack aside and launched into your victory dance, your movements filled with infectious energy as you twirled and spun around the room.
Eli, startled from where he was lounging on the couch, raised an eyebrow at your antics, his hair ruffled as he turned his eyes towards you. But as he caught sight of your beaming smile and exuberant movements, a knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. If you were this happy, it could only mean one thing – you must have passed your chemistry test, the one you were so nervous about just yesterday.
Turning off the TV, Eli rose from the couch and made his way over to you, his movements languid and confident as he approached. You continued to dance in a whirlwind of joy, barely able to contain your excitement as Eli reached you, his presence towering over you like a commanding force.
"How did the test go?" Eli inquired, his voice laced with amusement as he watched you revel in your victory.
Without hesitation, you threw yourself at him, shouting in his ear that you passed with flying colors. Eli's smirk widened into a grin as he wrapped his arms around you, congratulating you in his own arrogant way.
"Of course, you passed," he declared, his baritone voice dripping with confidence. "After all, I've been your private teacher. It would have been a disappointment if you hadn't."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his arrogance, but in that moment, you were too happy and relieved to care. You pulled away from him, excitement coursing through your veins as you declared your intention to celebrate.
"I don't care how I passed," you exclaimed, laughter bubbling up inside you. "I'm just happy it's over! Let's go celebrate!"
But before you could make a move towards the door, Eli's hand shot out, gripping your wrist with a wicked gleam in his eye. A mischievous smirk played on his lips as he pulled you back towards him, his voice low and suggestive.
"Not so fast, my dear," he purred, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I have a few ideas on how we can celebrate this victory."
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the suggestive tone in his voice. Despite his arrogance, there was an undeniable allure to Eli's confidence, and a part of you couldn't help but be intrigued by what he had in mind.
"Oh, really?" you teased, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "And what exactly did you have in mind, Professor?"
Eli's grin widened into a smirk as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. His voice was a low, seductive whisper that sent shivers down your spine.
"Let's just say," he murmured, his words sending a thrill of anticipation through you, "that I have a few experiments in mind that require some... hands-on attention."
Your cheeks flushed with excitement as Eli's suggestive words sank in, igniting a fire of desire deep within you. With a coy smile, you leaned in close, your lips brushing against his as you whispered your agreement.
"Lead the way, Professor," you murmured, your voice filled with playful anticipation. "I'm all yours."
With a playful smile, you followed Eli as he led you towards his private office, the dim lighting casting shadows across the room. The air was charged with tension, anticipation crackling between you as you exchanged heated glances.
Once inside, Eli wasted no time in taking charge, his demeanor commanding and confident as he beckoned you closer. His hair caught the faint light, giving him an almost ethereal aura as he turned to face you, his brown eyes smoldering with desire.
"Now, my dear," he began, his baritone voice sending shivers down your spine, "let's get started on our little celebration, shall we?"
You nodded eagerly, unable to tear your gaze away from him as he approached, his presence filling the room with an intoxicating energy. With a smirk, Eli reached out, his fingers trailing along your jawline with a feather-light touch that sent a jolt of electricity through you.
"First experiment," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizing kiss, "the chemistry between us."
His kiss was like a spark igniting a flame, passion flaring between you as you melted into each other's embrace. His hands roamed your body with a hunger that left you breathless, his touch setting your skin ablaze with desire.
With a growl of approval, Eli pressed you against the nearest surface, his body pressing against yours with an urgency that mirrored your own. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of his cologne mingling with the heady aroma of arousal that filled the air.
As he claimed your lips in a searing kiss, you couldn't help but moan against him, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The kiss was passionate and intense, a silent affirmation of the desire that burned between you.
But Eli wasn't satisfied with just kissing. With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he trailed kisses down your neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His hands roamed lower, skimming over your curves with a possessiveness that left you weak at the knees.
"Experiment number two," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot against your ear, "exploring every inch of your body."
With a gasp, you arched into his touch, your body craving more of his delicious torment. His fingers danced over your skin with practiced skill, teasing and taunting as he drove you to the brink of madness.
But Eli wasn't done yet. With a smirk, he sank to his knees before you, his eyes dark with desire as he trailed kisses down your abdomen. His hands slipped under your shirt, pushing it up to expose your skin to his hungry gaze.
"Experiment number three," he whispered, his voice low and husky, "tasting every inch of you."
He pulled your jeans down, along with your panties, exposing you to him. You couldn't help but laugh lightly at his haste and forgetfulness. In his eagerness, he had overlooked the simple fact that shoes come off before pants.
"Looks like someone's a little too excited," you teased, your laughter bubbling up as Eli grumbled and undid the laces of your sneakers. With a playful grin, you kicked off your shoes, sending them carelessly over your shoulder, revealing your white socks before stepping out of your pants and panties.
Climbing onto his desk that was conveniently behind you, you spread your legs for him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. Eli's brown eyes darkened with desire as he purred contentedly, holding your knees and urging you to spread your legs even wider for him.
Kissing the inside of your thighs, he praised you for passing the test, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You smart girl, but that's to be expected, isn't it? Having a genius like me as your tutor."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his self-assured tone, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. "Stop being such an arrogant bastard," you teased, your voice low and sultry. "And start working to please me."
With a wicked grin, Eli complied, his lips trailing kisses up your inner thighs, his touch sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you. As he reached your core, his tongue flicked out teasingly, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips.
"Oh, Eli," you moaned, your voice filled with need as he began to explore every inch of you with his tongue. The sensation was electric, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you as he worshipped you with his mouth.
As Eli delved deeper into his exploration of your most intimate parts, his arrogance only seemed to intensify, fueling the fire of desire that burned between you. His tongue worked magic, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body as he worshipped you with his mouth.
"You like that, don't you?" he purred, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Being pleasured by a man of my caliber."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his arrogance, but deep down, you couldn't deny the thrill of being at the mercy of such a confident and skilled lover. With a playful smirk, you reached down, tangling your fingers in his hair and urging him to go deeper.
"Keep talking, Professor," you teased, your voice laced with desire. "But let your actions do the talking for you."
Eli chuckled against your skin, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure through you as he continued his ministrations. His hands roamed your body with a possessiveness that left you breathless, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.
With each flick of his tongue, each gentle caress of his fingers, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. But Eli was a master of control, his movements calculated and precise as he teased you mercilessly, drawing out your pleasure until you were begging for release.
"Please, Eli," you moaned, your voice a desperate plea for more. "I need you... I need to come."
But Eli was in no rush to grant your request. With a wicked grin, he pulled away from you, leaving you panting and desperate for more. His brown eyes smoldered with desire as he surveyed you, his gaze filled with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine.
"Not yet, my dear," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "I want to savor every moment of this."
With a devilish gleam in his eyes, Eli rose to his feet, his presence towering over you like a commanding force. He shed his own clothes with deliberate slowness, each movement calculated to drive you wild with desire.
As he stood before you, completely naked and unapologetically confident, you couldn't help but admire the sight before you. His hair caught the dim light, giving him an almost ethereal aura as he approached, his thick body and muscular beneath the soft glow.
As Eli positioned himself between your legs, his hair tousled and his brown eyes smoldering with desire, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation course through you. With trembling hands, you reached up and began to remove your shirt, the fabric clinging to your skin in the warmth of the room.
Throwing it aside, you worked on the clasp of your bra, your fingers fumbling slightly with the delicate mechanism as Eli teased you with the tip of his dick. His touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, your breath hitching in your throat as you struggled to maintain your composure.
With a hand on your knee, Eli rubbed the tip of his dick against your clit, his movements slow and deliberate as he teased you mercilessly. You couldn't help but moan at the sensation, your body aching with need as you yearned for more of his touch.
Finally freeing your breasts from the confines of your bra, you reached out and clung to Eli's shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you pulled him closer. His smirk widened into a grin as he reveled in the power he held over you, his confidence unwavering as he prepared to take you to new heights of pleasure.
"Experiment number four," he purred, his voice low and commanding, "fucking you until you beg to come on my dick."
With those dirty words, Eli wasted no time in plunging into you, his movements fierce and determined as he claimed you as his own. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, pleasure coursing through you as he filled you completely.
With each powerful thrust, Eli drove you closer and closer to the edge, his pace relentless as he pounded into you with abandon. You clung to him desperately, your moans filling the air as pleasure consumed your senses.
"Please," you begged, your voice barely a whisper as you pleaded for release. "I need to come... Please, Professor, make me come."
But Eli was in no rush to grant your request. With a wicked grin, he slowed his pace, drawing out your pleasure until you were practically trembling with need. His movements were calculated and precise, each thrust driving you to new heights of ecstasy.
"Say my name," he commanded, his voice low and commanding as he filled you completely. "Beg for it, my dear. Beg for me to make you come."
You nodded eagerly, unable to deny the overwhelming desire that consumed you. With each thrust, each touch, you felt yourself teetering on the edge, your need for release driving you to the brink of madness.
"Eli," you moaned, your voice a desperate plea for more. "Please, make me come. I need you... I need you to fuck me until I can't think straight."
With a triumphant grin, Eli quickened his pace, his movements becoming more frenzied as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. You clung to him desperately, your nails digging into his skin as pleasure washed over you in waves.
And then, with one final thrust, you felt yourself hurtling over the edge, pleasure consuming you completely as you cried out Eli's name. He followed you into oblivion, his own release echoing yours as you both surrendered to the intensity of your passion.
As you lay together in the aftermath, the room filled with the sound of your heavy breathing and the lingering echoes of your pleasure. Eli held you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively as you basked in the warmth of each other's presence.
"Experiment successful," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "But I think we'll need to repeat it... for science, of course."
You laughed breathlessly, your heart overflowing with happiness as you snuggled closer to him. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth and intimacy of Eli's embrace, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, bound by a love that transcended everything else.
And as the two of you spent a few happy moments just like that, clinging to each other in the aftermath of your passionate encounter, Eli finally pulled away from you, his gaze lingering on the sight of his cum leaking out of you. But he didn't pay much attention to it before picking you up, bridal style, eliciting laughter from you as you clung to him, questioning what he was doing.
"Where are you taking me?" you asked, amusement evident in your voice as Eli smirked down at you.
"To the bedroom, of course," he replied with a hint of mischief in his eyes.
But as he walked down the hallway, Eli suddenly stopped, his gaze softening in a way you had never seen before. His hair caught the light, giving him an almost ethereal aura as he looked at you with a tenderness that took your breath away.
"I'm proud of you, you know," he said softly, his baritone voice filled with sincerity. "For passing the test, even though I already knew you would."
You smiled up at him, touched by his words. "Is that because you're such a great teacher?" you teased, knowing full well how arrogant Eli could be.
But he shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "No, it's because you're a smart and dedicated girl," he replied, his tone surprisingly gentle. "I knew you would pass because you're capable of anything you set your mind to."
You softened at his words, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you," you whispered, grateful for his support and encouragement.
Eli smiled to himself, his arrogance returning in full force as he straightened his shoulders. "Well, you wouldn't have done it without me, of course," he declared, his smirk back in place as he continued down the hallway towards the bedroom.
Rolling your eyes at his arrogance, you couldn't help but laugh at your boyfriend's antics. He may be an arrogant bastard, but he was your arrogant bastard, and you wouldn't have him any other way.
Snuggling against him as he carried you towards the bedroom, you let yourself relax into his embrace, content in the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, bound by a love that transcended everything else.
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Text
intoxicating
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─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
the first thing people took notice of when they looked at you -
that mesmerizing smile.
the way you carried yourself was so profound, as if every bad thing thrown your way would just bounce right off.
your bubbly energy enraptured everybody around you, feeding off of your wide grins, and constant laughter bringing a sense of joy into their life.
earning your nickname; sweet girl.
everyone loved you from the beginning.
i mean... who wouldn't?
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
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"Sweetheart, you have got to get ahold of yourself."
"I do- I don't know what makes you think I don't."
A scoff left Garcia's glossed lips, as she stared at your frantic fingers messing with your hair, trying to apply everything all at once. Reaching for your signature perfume, spraying a good dosage on to ensure it stays on the whole night. The blonde had come over to get ready for a night out in the town with your fellow co-workers, including a certain brunette that you had a soft spot for.
Your hair was not cooperating with you. Not. In. The. Slightest.
Does this dress make me look- too much?
Who the hell made this damn mousse-
"If you touch your hair one more time, I will personally make it my life's mission to get rid of your existence." She grabbed a hold of your arm, tugging you out of the bathroom despite your protests. "Spencer won't care what your hair looks like when he's got you underneath him."
A gasp left your lips, smacking Penelope's giggling behind as she ran away from you towards your front door. "Or above him- whatever you're into sweet cheeks."
"Oh! I'm going to get your ass, Pen."
"Tell that to Mr. Hotchner!"
Penelope ripped the front door open, revealing a startled Hotch who had just raised his fist to knock on your house door. A smug smirk graced the blonde's lips, sticking her tongue out at you as she ran towards the SUV where Morgan was waiting. You stood there with a pout on your lips, grabbing your purse from your entrance table. Hotch eyed your dressed up figure, feeling his heart rate pick up as you made your way over to him your perfume engulfing his senses.
"Hiya Hotch." Wrapping your arm around his waist, giving the older man a tight squeeze letting your free hand lock the door behind you stuffing your keys into your purse. Penelope and you might have had one too many shots, the constant cheesing on your face giving you away. 
"Hello sweet girl." Hotch had known you long enough to see you in every situation imaginable, including your drunk side. He chuckled as you left your arm around him, not minding it for a second as you guys walked down the steps to the car. "Are we sure this isn't the aftermath of the bar?"
You let out a small giggle, knowing he was partially right. Hotch opened up the car door for you, helping you into the lifted vehicle a small thank you leaving your lips as you scooted further in as he squeezed in behind you.
The car smelled like people who had were planning on getting laid, both Hotch's and Morgans cologne smelling intoxicating and strong; not enough to be irritating to the nose. Both you and Penelope's perfumes smelled soft and sweet, contrasting with the guys.
Penelope was blasting Kesha through the SUV, while Morgan attempted to turn it down without her noticing. Either she noticed or didn't care, allowing her voice to do the work for her as she embodied Kesha.
"We are just getting started, I promise. You should join us! Didn't Morgan draw the short stick for tonight? Leaves you perfectly able to get wasted with us,"
Morgan gave you a glare in the rearview mirror, not letting your mocking affect his driving as he tried his best to follow the law with his boss as his passenger. Hotch just shook his head as you unzipped your purse showing him the contents inside.
His eyebrow raised, he saw several colorful shooters clinking around in the small accessory adorning your body, a smile gracing your warming skin. You took out a bright green shooter, shoving it into his hands.
"What in the-"
"Pen. Catch." Penelope didn't even have to move, her hands expertly catching the pink shot you had picked out just for her. You opted for a blue one, knowing this flavor in specific masked the taste as best it could making it easier to down.
You raised your eyebrow back up at Hotch cracking your drink open, a soft sigh left his lips knowing you wouldn't back down. He proceeded to crack his open, whoops leaving the girls lips. Clinking your shot against his bringing the cold glass to your lips, allowing the burning sensation to trickle down your throat
Hotch was used to harder liquor, but something about the neon colored vodka was already making him feel a little warm. Shaking his head at the taste, putting the lid back on the drink as he watched you reach for another.
"Woah, sweet girl... you sure you can handle another?"
Your rolled your eyes at his concerning words, easily tossing another shooter back as you opened your mouth to show it was gone. Hotch felt a small smirk tug at his lips at the sight, adjusting himself in his seat subtly.
"I almost flunked out of college my freshman year because I was getting drunk every weekend. I learned my handful of tricks- I would put Dr. Reid to shame." Morgan whistled, making Garcia laugh as she reminisced on some of the stories you had told her. An ever-growing smirk graced your lips, re-applying a generous amount of lip gloss to your lips. 
Hotch eyed the bubbly girl, as she made herself comfortable against the taller man. He spread his jean cladded legs as she plopped her purse on his lap, using him as a table rummaging through the contents. Choosing to ignore the sensation of her nimble fingers ghosting over his dark wash jeans, adjusting his position on the leather seat. She pulled out another shooter and mingled it into his hands, a small chuckle bubbling in his chest.
"You're going to have to show me one day, baby."
"Wouldn't you love to see that, sweet boy?"
Morgan smirked up at you as he pulled up to the valet who were excited to take the keys from your favorite Agent, sending a wink to the blushing girl holding the keys. You were about to open the door, almost jumping as you saw Hotch had already beaten you to it. Looking back and forth between the door and your now empty seat beside you, the grinning raven haired man made your heart skip a beat.
"How-"
"Your intoxicated state is making your reaction time slow," His deep voice hummed into your ear, his hands splaying across your back allowing his warmth to keep you from shivering. Hotch lent his arm out, grasping onto his bicep firmly as you made your way into the bar. The shooter you had given the older man tucked away in his jeans, holding your body close to ensure you wouldn't run off. 
It didn't take long for Hotch have to glare at the wandering eyes of plenty of men who were attempting to undress you with their nasty eyes. He knew men were absolute garbage as time had gone by, but he knew that he would never let these ones especially anywhere near you tonight. 
It didn't take long for you to find your other co-workers even in all of the chaos, the place bordering a club atmosphere. The bar was currently playing one of your favorite songs, allowing the music to guide your body. You let your grip loosen as you made a beeline towards JJ who was smiling widely up at you, a bright pink coating her cheeks. Your heels clicking mesmerizingly against the stone floor, having mastered the art in running in those strappy shoes.
"JJ!! I missed youuuu," You hurriedly wrapped your arms around her neck, pressing a glossed kiss onto her cheek. She let out a muffled laugh as she held you tighter. "Where is-"
"Spence? Right behind you, honey." The giggling girl whispered into your ear, you spun on your heel making eye contact with the man you had been thinking about all night. A smile made its way onto your lips, taking a seat beside the brunette. 
As if he couldn't get anymore attractive.
The sight of his dark green cardigan bringing out the green in his hazel eyes, hidden behind his god forsaken sexy ass glasses.
What kind of test do they have to pass to work at the BAU? It seemed like every man and woman had to make your knees buckle to work there.
"Hiya Spence."
The flustered boy tucked his hair behind his ear, turning in his seat to give you his undivided attention. Your perfume infiltrating his nostrils, before having heard your voice. A smell he was all too keen on knowing, wetting his bottom lip nervously. "Oh h-hi!"
The conscious part of your brain attempted to send signals to your body to be smart, your drunk limbs ignoring it as you allowed your legs to entwine with his slack cladded leg closest to you. His breath hitching a small gasp leaving his pink lips. 
Elle feigned a dramatic hand over her chest, her dress showing off her curves in all the right places. The girl walked over to you, your smile having not left your lips since getting in the car. Smacking a wet kiss on your dark haired friends cheek who just wrapped an arm around your waist. "We were about to send out a search party. We thought Morgan got you guys lost again,"
"Oh he most definitely did, I think the aftershave has made him lose some brain cells over the years." You teased the burly man, who shot you a glare reaching over the table to flick your forehead a gasp leaving your lips. You detangled your legs from Spencers missing the warmth almost as soon as you detached, sending a harsh kick to Morgan who hissed at your heels.
"Son of a bitch. Watch your back, sweet cheeks."
"Want me to kiss it better?" A small twinkle shone in his eyes, his usual flirty smirk making its way onto his face. You turned on your charm, resting your face on your hands as you batted your eyelashes at the man your glossy lips parted open. Everyone at the table watched in amusement as Morgan practically melted at her doe eyes looking up at him, leaning closer to her face. 
"I would love nothing more-"
"I call dibs first, Chocolate Thunder." Penelope butted in, making her first appearance at the table a tray full of drinks. She handed you your signature drink, the vibrant color matching her outfit. Clapping your hands as you blew a kiss to the blonde, wrapping your lips around the straw humming happily at the cold liquid making its way down your throat. 
"No need to call dibs when I've already kissed you, baby cheeks."
"You're not special, Derek. We've all kissed, sweets." All the girls threw in their words of agreement, a chuckle leaving Spencers lips as he watched the look of disbelief on Morgan's face. "Sweet as her name, she is." 
"Don't make me kiss you on the mouth again, Pen."
"Maybe that's what I'm hinting at, sweet girl."
A burst of giggles left the girls mouths as they all grabbed ahold of the shots Garcia had bought everyone. 
Well, everyone except Morgan. 
She had grabbed something strong; wanting to ensure it did what it was intended to do. You had seen Spencer had also proceeded to throw back a shot a small wince leaving his lips. "You would think after 9,006 years, that we would know how to mask the taste of alcohol."
"I like the pain. Gives a little thrill, don't you think?" Tilting your head at the doctor whose eyes widened a little, his cheeks flushing pink. A small giggle left your lips placing your hand dangerously close to his thigh, turning your attention to the raven haired man beside you.
"What are you nursing there, Hotch?" He turned to his left, eyeing the glossy eyed girl a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he showed her his glass. "Mind if I have a sip?" 
"Of course, go ahead." The girl gently took the glass from his hands, taking a small sip of the drink a soft hum leaving her lips. He felt his chest tighten at the sight of her lips on the same glass his were just on. She just grinned at the man, handing him back his jacket and coke. "Not bad- too Hotch for me." 
Gently rising from your chair at the table, gaining the attention of everyone at the table a grin already plastered on your face. Spencer eyed your radiating body, his brain turning to mush as he tried to focus on the words leaving your pretty lips. Chugging the rest of your cocktail, the cold feeling nice on your warming face. "Time to dance!"
Penelope wasted no time, dragging a more than ready Morgan onto the swarm of people on the dance floor. JJ and Elle had already partnered up, their swaying bodies entwined together. Leaving you in between Spencer and Hotch. Both who looked absolutely delicious-
Hold on- what?
Delicious?
I mean... 
Hotch's black polo did absolute numbers for his muscular body. His biceps just about bulging out of the shirt, snug around his lean torso. Wanting nothing more than to wrap your arms around his waist. And don't even mention his gorgeous eyes, with their specks of green becoming visible the closer you got to him.
And then Spencer.
That boy looked like straight out of a rom com. His puppy eyes staring at you intently like nothing around you existed. His button ups fitting him just right, the cardigans about to swallow him whole wishing you were in them as well.
"Sweets?"
The sound of Hotchs raspy voice speaking broke you out of your trance, blinking away your borderline wet dream about your co-worker and superior. Taking notice of Spencers empty seat, turning to Hotch with a confused look on your face. "He went to the restroom. Everything okay? You were unresponsive there for a second."
"Y-yes. Sorry, I was- I don't even know. You guys both looked so good, my brain did an override." The words were spewing out of your mouth like muscle memory, a shocked expression filtering over the usually furrowed mans face. "How about that dance?"
"Oh no, I don't-"
"Hotchner, don't start. I was promised a dance,"
"-I think that was you doing the promising." You grabbed ahold of his wrist, tugging the protesting man whose eyes had grown soft. "You're awfully strong when you're drunk. Did you know that?"
"I think it's similar to when crack heads do crack, except without the crack." You shouted into his ear, the music practically making it near impossible to hear. Hotch just let a laugh slip out, his hands having found their home on your hips barely touching you, afraid he would mess it all up.
Pitbull had begun to blast through the club, your body swinging to the beat having known the rhythm a little too well for your liking. The clubs lights had gotten dark, except for the strobe lights and stage lights lighting up the crowd every now and then. You could see Penelope shouting the words at Morgan who bared an amused stare at the blonde, dancing with her drunken form the pink spotlight lighting up her blonde hair perfectly.
A whine left your lips at the lack of contact with your dance partner, pressing your body against the towering man above you knowing this exact situation must be written somewhere on what not to do with your boss. He almost halted his movements if it weren't for your hands finding his and wrapping his arms further around your waist. Hands finding their home around his neck, chills going down his spine as he felt how close you were to him.
As if your bodies were made just for one another; you moved in synch with each other, neither of you having to give cues as if you guys had been doing this for years.
Hotch felt this body growing hotter the longer you were grinding up against him, a small line of guilt bubbling inside but his body seemed to be doing all the thinking for him. His hands tightening their grip on your hips as he pulled you impossibly closer to him a soft gasp leaving your lips. Your body swaying and turning in his grasp pressing your ass against his growing member, Hotch's head leaning into your neck.
You rolled your head back leaning against Hotch's muscular body, trying to see if it was your mind playing tricks on your or if it truly was what you thought it was poking against your ass. Every touch felt- electric.
The pawing at your body from Hotch made your body writhe in his grasp, feeling yourself getting drunk in his touch. Turning back around to face him, wondering what was running through his head right now.
Hotch must have know how crazy he looked as he felt. Scanning every inch of her face, cupping her face in his warm calloused hand tucking her hair away from her face.
He could see every tiny freckle, and scar on your face. The sparkly gloss coating your lips enticing him the longer you mouthed the words close to his chest. Every one of his senses were focused on you.
Your perfume.
Your body.
Your gorgeous eyes.
He couldn't look away-
"If you wanted to kiss me Hotch, you could have just asked,"
Before Hotch could lean down and press his awaiting lips on yours, you detached your limbs from the man a giant grin gracing your features. Waving at the approaching figure, tugging the brunette closer to you. The older man almost rolled his eyes, keeping his hands tucked into his pocket his fingers knocking with the shooter you had gifted him earlier.
"Spence! I was about to send out a search party,"
The blushing boy tried to stammer out a response, his eyes locking with Hotch's. His boss; correction, his friend was staring at him as if he had just came out and told him he was the unsub on a case. Wiping his clammy hands against his dark slacks, wondering what he had interrupted.
"The line to the bathroom was long. If it weren't for the fact that I had to-"
"Did you know that Aaron is a good dancer?" You shouted in Spencers direction, the name slipping off your tongue sweet like honey.
Hotch turned to face the girl replaying the sound of his name falling off of her lips over and over again, hoping she would say it again. Spencer raised a surprised eyebrow at the cheesing girl, whose hold on him hadn't faltered.
"I'm not too surprised. His stature and athleticism point him in the direction of having better coordination than the average person."
"I have no idea what you just said! Maybe Pitbull is having some affect on my hearing," 
"Maybe we should go sit down, hm?" Hotch whispered into your ear, his breath fanning over your face. Nodding along to his words, grabbing ahold of his unsuspecting hand tugging them over to the back corner table you were sitting at. A soft sigh left your lips, as you reached for Hotch's glass of jack and coke tossing the rest of the drink back. 
Spencer eyed your hand that was still holding onto Hotch's practically burning a hole into his much larger hand, a million thoughts coursing through his head. "Next one is on me, Aaron."
"Don't worry about it, sweet girl. Let me go buy another drink, I'll order you a water."
"What! I'm not even close to being done, please..." A pout found its way onto your face," Just one or two more."
Hotch couldn't say no to her face. "One more. Reid, want anything?"
"Can I just get a water, please?"
Hotch untangled your hand from his, his retreating figure hard to miss even with all the people surrounding him. Spencer took this chance to try to erase any progress Hotch had made, his figure seating itself right beside you. His shaking hand found its place on your thigh, a soft gasp leaving your lips eyeing the nervous boy standing before you. Your heart just about dropped into your stomach, a fluttering in your stomach as the guy you had been crushing on had made a move.
Please move it higher-
"I wish we could have had our dance, Spence... I'm sure you've got some more tricks up your sleeve I haven't seen."
"I don't think I would have been able to keep it professional if I got my hands on you,"
Fuck.
"What if I didn't want you too?"
You were playing with fire. 
Knowing full well you had just basically had sex with your boss out on the dance floor, but your brain wanted them both. 
And bad. 
Spencers face heated up, his face leaning closer to yours feeling your chest tighten as he almost brushed his lips against yours his warm minty breath burning your eyes slightly. Holding your breath as you felt him pull back a confused look on your face, taking notice of a looming figure coming your way. The feeling of your blood rushing to your already burning face made you feel a little faint, fanning your face to try to cool off.
Morgan raised an eyebrow at the pair of you a knowing look on his face, clapping Spencers shoulder with a smirk on his lips. "My man. I never knew you had it in you,"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, okay. I didn't know it was a secret, sweet girl. Does this mean the nicknames are off limits now?"
You giggled at the reddening of Spencers face, nudging him playfully. "Not at all, baby. But, Spencer is right. We have no idea what you're talking about."
"What is Spencer right about again?"
"Oh, him and our sweets are-"
Spencer had read your mind, sending a swift kick towards Morgan who let out a yelp turning around and giving the brunette a harsh punch to the arm. Hotch felt his face tense at the words Morgan was insinuating, hoping Morgan was just playing a joke on him taking the seat closest to you leaving you sandwiched in between your two wet dreams once more.
"Don't tell me you're all out of dances, sweet girl. I still haven't gotten mine."
"Oh trust, I'm not. I was just waiting on a good song to come on-"
As if someone was listening in on your conversation, Club Can't Handle Me came on a fan favorite between you and Morgan. A loud laugh leaving both of your mouths as he made his way over to you dragging you over to the huge crowd that you had just escaped. Morgans hands expertly found their place on your hips, having danced with the famous flirt many times. 
The way he grinned against your body had you almost a mess, allowing your legs to slip around his thigh dancing on him as if your life depended on it. By this point there was a layer of sweat on both of your bodies, making you look pornographic on the dance floor. His tight v-neck showed off his muscles well in the dim lighting of the bar, his arms practically engulfing you. 
"You're too hot to be here by yourself,"
"Shut up, Morgan."
The pretty boy leaned into the cusp of your ear, his lips brushing up against you. "If looks could kill, your two lover boys would have killed me tenfold." 
Peeking over his shoulder, noticing the evident glares of Hotch and Spencer who looked like they were 2 seconds away from walking over. "Want to help me make them make the first move?"
"You're an absolute minx, you know that?"
You knew Morgan was right, but the alcohol in you just wanted them to walk over and make you theirs. The music had changed to a slow sexier song, knowing if you were to do anything it would have to be now when the music would show everything off.
Closing your eyes allowing the music to guide you, putting every ounce of your being into grinding against Morgan. It didn’t take long of Morgan putting his hands closer to your ass before a cough interrupted the pair of you.
“Mind if I but in, Morgan?”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
a/n: guys this came to me in the middle of the night and i did NOT stop writing until 5 am. it just kept coming out. and FUCK, i am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure rn
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xx-1c1cl35-n-t34r5-xx · 16 hours
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Daniel X reader oneshot
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tw: dub-con, darkfic, overstimulation, gn reader, no specified genitalia on reader other than 'hole'. Not extremely explicit, mostly a lot of rambling. No pronouns for reader other then you, jealousy, possessiveness
Daniel doesn't want you to leave. You told him you won't but that's what everyone says. You won't leave, right? Right?
He'll make sure you don't want to leave.
An: written while sleep deprived so it might be shit. Anyways I love Daniel from DBH he needs more love. He's so bbygirl to me ok? Ok.
Hands, stronger and firmer than anything you've ever known, held onto you. They grabbed onto your plush thighs, squeezing them so hard you were sure they'd bruise, and pulling them apart.
He didn't falter. Didn't stop his movements.
He's been doing this for hours now - abusing your poor cunt.
Tears streamed down your cheeks, falling into your shirt that he didn't even bother to remove. Two hands gripped his shoulders, knuckles turning white. Your legs shaked again as your eyes rolled further back once more, while you shook your head. Moans ripped out of your throat. You couldn't take it - too much, so much that it hurt. It bubbled and boiled over out of you.
"Daniel please ! It's too much!"
But did he listen? No. He just kept going.
What even started this again? You couldn't remember.
He was doing so well. He got put back together. Repaired. Sent back into the workforce.
Why, now of all times, why now did all those months of hard work have to break?
"promise" he broke through, voice breaking. It was strange, his voice was synthetic, all of him was really, but it breathed. It breathed and stuttered and made faults. "Promise me you'll never leave me. Never."
You choked out, "Never! Please Daniel, I'm beggin' you!
You were so wet he simply slid. In. Out. In. Out. Each thrust hard and fast, sending waves through you. Your juices dripped down your hole, down your thighs and onto his. He never really told you for a long time why he'd gotten the genital addition. Of course he didn't come with it, he was a household model. A maid essentially. He never told you when or why he got the update, but you noticed.
He seemed almost more ecstatic to be around you. Bubblier. Touchier.
He wanted it to be nicer. He wanted the first time he used it on you to be kinder. He was saving up, planning for a date. A nice one too.
But then he got jealous. He saw you talking to someone, he wasn't sure who, and his mind raced. Maybe you'd found someone else to date before he even got a shot at asking you out.
So he cried.
Broke down and confessed and made you promise you loved him back.
Made you prove it.
And he started. All he wanted to do was show you he loved you. And that's what he did, in the way he thought he could at least.
He didn't expect it to feel so good though.
When he slipped his cock inside, it was like something he could never have imagined. It blossomed within him and suddenly a ravaging hunger was born. One of greed. One of selflessness.
One of your hands pushed gently, weakly, on his shoulder but he didn't relent. He was too much stronger. He didn't stop. His thrusts didn't falter, he didn't relent, nothing.
You could barely feel yourself, entire body going numb.
And then, in the midst of it all, he kissed you. The first time of many, he hopes. It was too gentle for what he was doing, like it was programmed into him and not learnt through practice. A stark contrast to it all.
His tongue slipped inside your mouth, memorising each crook and curve inside while whines and moans and gasps slipped into his mouth.
And then he came, and you did too.
Finally, a break. A time to breath.
And then he started again, ravaging you more.
You were sure this would be a long night, but maybe, just maybe, it'd be all the proof he needs that you're not leaving.
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aceofwhump · 2 years
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The Sandman - 1x01
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kdsburneraccount · 1 year
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Slay ig
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seventeendeer · 2 years
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I finally played the stanley parable for myself after many years of only being aware of it secondhand, and after pack bonding with the narrator due to him simply talking at me so much for a long time, I finally understand all those jokes about wanting to put your favorite characters in a handbag/put a sweater on him/teach him how to read or whatever the fuck it is you all fantasize about doing to spamton
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threegunbrainrot · 1 year
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I look at the 98 anime with a fond fascination. It’s based off of only the original couple issues of Trigun plus like I want to say the first 4? Of trimax. And bc of how many things get developed and revealed much more down the line in the manga, it’s so interesting to think about this offshoot of the original source material where things didn’t quite ramp up to the same scale but still got to the heart of things anyways, where everyone’s backstories played out just a little to the left and led to a similar but different tale. Trimax is definitely my favorite, bc just everything about it is so well done to me, but 98 holds its own unique spot in my favor
i definitely agree anon ur So right
it's practically a branching timelines situation, where everything is so, SO close to being the same, but thanks to the butterfly effect everything got skewed ever so slightly and now the whole world is just that much more different
call it parallel universes, alternate dimensions, alternate timelines... i really love it all. there's so many specific parts of both trimax and 98 that shine brighter and dimmer than one another. unique pieces of the narrative that were either expounded or brushed aside.
like in 98, meryl didn't want to believe that vash was the legend she was looking for. it was a ridiculous notion that such a friendly, goofy guy could be the bloodthirsty killer she hunted for
but in the manga, she and milly took to it instantly. in fact, they jumped into it with AGGRESSION- actively getting involved in the fighting and PUSHING to calm the situation down. this panel in particular i think sums it up very well lol:
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they meet him with confidence and they're not afraid to fire upon others for the sake of collective peace. vash is caught off by how readily he's approached and even defended, in a way. when the automatic reaction to learning his identity is usually either hostility or fear, it makes sense.
and i dont have a convenient shot of any particular moment in 98 that portrayed their early relationship well, but it's easy to see the differences anyway.
instead of steady confidence, meryl met vash with confusion and outright denial for awhile. she and milly both got involved in fewer fights overall i think? but i might be wrong. i won't speak much on this since i don't remember 98 very well, but i get the sense they sought out vash's fights much less in that rendition (at least early on. they went CRAZY toward the end- meryl especially).
and there's countless little differences like this.
so yeah, even if trimax is the source content, 98 is this funky little spinoff that treats vash just a little bit more nicely lmao. the whole thing is a little more watered down, i think; intentionally to make it more palatable. i still love it regardless, of course. it just oozes charm <3
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waywardsalt · 7 months
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the dilemma of having ideas that would be best expressed as comics but being afraid to draw
#im gonna give it an actual shot sometime soon. maybe in a sort of storyboard kinda look so i can give myself acceptable room for error#anyways. linebeck comic idea. kinda in vein with that ‘everyone on mercay knows linebeck’ had going on hang on#salty talks#i love using mask stuff with linebeck. both in an autism sense and i nthe general sense that he has multiple different outward fronts for#different situations. the idea that he lets other people decide on those masks for him and he goes along w what they might want#to see from him. not really in a people-pleasing way more in a way to get what he wants and avoid getting hurt or. whatever criticized ig#but its to the degree where his actual self is very… repressed? stunted? restless? he doesnt actually act like himself a lot and the maskin#tires him out and drives him to despise others bc he does it as a sort of defense mechanism and to get what he wants so in a sense whats#under those masks has turned into almost like a muzzled beast. hes abrasive and resentful and exhausted and just a lot of pent up nastiness#like there are times when he drops the mask and its fine (like when he does it around link in ph or. like. if hes in a good mood#but a lot of the time that pent up masked resentment is what bubbles up to the surface when hes alone and he finds ways to utilize it#this leads into the idea that all of that pent-up… frustration? with SO MUCH gets wrangled by bellum n used as motivation for bellumbeck#like. i do like the idea that bellumbeck is an awful fulfillment of a lot of things for linebeck. a chance to actually be able to protect#himself in a fight but also a brief outlet for every awful thought he’s repressed and shoved down. some of those bad thoughts being directe#at link ofc like theres a lot of envy and frustration there and it does lead to a lot of the guilt he feels afterwards. i like the line abt#him asking link if he knows he wouldnt hurt him is like him just saying that but also asking himself. like. he was forced to act on bad#thoughts yknow so then hes afraid of what that makes him even if it was forced. anyways. linebeck acting differently to get what he wants#and burying and allowing his actual nature to fester and become resentful until he finally drops that mask shit and airs it out#just some assorted linebeck thoughts here. taking whats a puddle in canon and turning that shit into a sea bc why not. this idea probably#doesnt come across in any of my current fics but i want to do smth with it going forward yknow#linebeck ideas. yippee. idk how far into ooc territory im in now and at this point i dont fucking care cuz im tired of worrying abt it
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kleftiko · 22 days
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kageyama tobio is the friend groups boyfriend
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facetime call… tobio <3
“sorry, guys, my boyfriend’s calling me.” you excuse yourself to the next room, closing the door to muffle the laughs coming from your friends.
swiping to answer, you’re immediately greeted by an unflattering shot of tobio’s nose. suppressing the giggle threatening to escape, you’re about to greet him when he goes,
“they’re out of mango, is peach okay?”
you’re confused.
“sorry?”
“i know she like mango green tea, but they don’t have it.” your boyfriend moves the phone back for you to recognize the interior of the bubble tea shop you always go to. it suddenly hits you that he’s not only grabbing drinks for you and your friends without asking, he remembers all your orders as well. you can’t help but coo at how sweet he is, missing your two friends sneaking up behind you and looking over your shoulder at the screen.
“hi tobio!” they both greet, and you see the phone shake as your boyfriend raises his hand to wave before returning to his unflattering pose.
“they don’t have mango green tea today, is peach okay?” he repeats his initial question, and you look at your friend for an answer.
it takes her a second to realize he’s speaking to her, “do they have lychee?”
you see tobio’s eyes look towards the board, he nods his head in confirmation.
“i’ll see you soon.” he says. “love you, baby.”
you can’t help but grin at him, repeating the phrase as your friends fawn over the two of you.
after you hang up, you can’t suppress the grin on your face as you all move back to the living room of your apartment, mind completely occupied with the fact that you have the most amazing boyfriend in the world. it’s only when you feel a buzz from your phone that your grin turns into a full on laugh.
tobio <3: btw what are their names again?
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wyvernest · 8 months
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mating szn
part 1 (part2)
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pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader
warnings: smut, fluff, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating
summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy
You're preparing dinner when you hear the opaque glass doors of your shared mansion open for your lover to come in. It's almost midnight, and it doesn't take you longer than a few seconds to realize how tired he has to be.
Miguel walks into the open kitchen, frowning. 
"Baby! I missed you!" You jolt to him, pans clattering dangerously as you throw them aside, careful enough not to ruin your work but swiftly enough to get to him as fast as possible.
You curl your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your chest flush against his hard pecs. His hands grab at your hips, absentmindedly and by habit.
"What's wrong?". You place a gentle, loving hand on his cheek, trying to meet his gaze. But he's not looking at you. His eyes are darting all over your face and body, brows still creased. 
He could feel it, your scent. A collection of the whole day, everything you've done. The food, the places you've been. He feels like it's been so long since this morning, when he woke up beside you, kissing along your neck. 
He feels a surge of blood rush from his heart and through his lucidity, a shot of adrenaline inexplicably taking over him.
You don't smell of him anymore. Anger bubbles in his chest as he thinks of all the people you must've talked to around HQ, who didn't smell his strong musk on you, who had no idea you belonged to him.
He's never felt like this before. He brushes the unfamiliar feeling aside for a moment, grounded by the silent plea in your eyes.
"I'm good. Just a bit tired." He brushes wild strands of baby hairs out of your face, finally matching the loving look you've greeted him with from the start.
He leaves you to finish the meal and steps into the shower, hoping that an ice cold stream would cool him down. Only it doesn't do anything but worsen the situation.
The second he feels the water spray hit his body, he flinches, unlike the usual relief he gets. His skin is abnormally feverish, the ghost of your body in his arms taunting him further into madness. He soon finds himself desperate to get out, to be reunited with you and the warmth only you could ever provide for him.
Images of your supple body breaking in his embrace flood his already lust crazed mind against his better judgment, and he feels his cock fatten slightly at the memory.
When he takes it in his hand, he nearly starts bucking his hips into his hold, sensitive and insanely needy. He imagines you in the bathtub with him, arching your back over the edge, spreading your legs for him to pound his cock into you under the hot stream, your moans echoing and ringing into the stone tiles.
He can't take it anymore. His body aches for your touch and attention.
Exiting the shower, he pulls a pair of loose boxers up his thighs, the only thing he can tolerate with the fever that has taken hold of him so suddenly.
And then, he focuses on the image of you, standing where he left you, gently stirring in a bowl. You're wearing one of his t-shirts, draped down to the middle of your thighs and over your elbows, an oversized dress. 
He approaches you, wrapping his arms around your front and waist, dropping a fraction of his weight on your back just to keep you from moving or fighting against it. You throw your head back, closing your eyes.
His head drops to your neck, kissing here and there, exhales smoldering hot on your throat, stopping momentarily to deeply inhale your scent. Among all others, there is a distinctive smell of you, of your arousal and need for him that drives him mad.
"Wait- Miguel, let me finish this-" You protest, your creamy tone betraying your true intentions. 
He groans, kissing your naked shoulder, his hands squeezing your form in front of him. 
All tasks are ultimately abandoned as he pushes you against the counter, his defined abs hitting your back, the marble surface cold against your thighs. He presses his fat, hard cock up against your plush ass, his hands fondling your breasts through his shirt, groaning low and quiet in your ear. 
With his biceps curled and constricted around your navel, your body goes limp in his hold, trembling ever so slightly as his warm, broad palms squeeze the soft flesh of your tits. He pushes them together, massaging gently, almost experimentally. He flattens them with the heels of his palms softly, only to them constrict his fingers around them so perfectly, fondling and groping away.
"Mm- Miguel, oh-" You breathe out, finding balance on your hands, arching your back into him. You feel your core pulsate with need, swelling up under his movements. You're almost completely wrapped up in his massive body, with nowhere to go. 
And just then, you accidentally knock a knife off the counter, startled when it hits the marble floor with a loud clank. He jumps, backing up from your body. Your face is flushed, eyes half lidded, breath heavy, nipples perked under the thin cotton. Landing back to your senses, you move to bend down and pick it up.
His eyes automatically snap to your round ass and the dark wet spot on your panties that invites him so blatantly to shove his cock in between your pussy lips. 
He can't help it. He can't control himself anymore.
Balance leaves your position as you feel his rough, eager hands grip your hips, harshly pulling you back into him. The plumpness of your ass hits the girthy shaft of his cock, but before you can look for the lost balance with your hands in front of you, he thrusts his erection up against your clothed cunt, making you whine in need.
"Ay, mi amor-" His voice is rugged and satisfied, laced with a deep groan. A broad palm hits the side of your behind, making the tender flesh ripple against his hard-on. "Te necesito muchísimo ahora." (I need you so badly right now.)
You yelp, perplexed, instinctively grabbing his wrists for balance. He pulls you up with your back against his chest, splaying a cursory hand across your abdomen, sending shivers thundering down your spine and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
"Miguel!" You playfully fight against his possessive hold, "Is this your way of helping me prepare dinner?!" You free yourself, giggling and letting a wide smile take over your features. Stepping back and extending your arms in front of you in an attempt to shield yourself from him, you chuckle wholeheartedly.
Seeing you resist, he lets out a defeated exhale.
"Fine. I'll be good, lo prometo." (I promise). He motions for you to come closer and trust that he'll behave. Letting your guard down, you approach the counter, eyes fixated on his playfully.
He feels your body heat nearing him, so comfortable and tempting. The smell of you, and everything that drives him crazy about your presence alone. His breaths deepen and quicken abruptly, his cock straining in his boxers, twitching freely against the material, begging to be enveloped in your wet warmth.
He looks down at you like a panther about to pounce, waiting for the perfect moment to do so. Your smile curls wider, eyes shining with lust and a teasing playfulness. His body dwarfs yours, his shadow alone making you feel puny. His shoulders are tense, the same way they are when he's on top of you, riding you into next Tuesday.
He shifts to place a clawed hand on the counter, the sharp edged digits tapping against the surface catching your attention momentarily in the corner of your eye. He exploits the split second it takes you to look down to his arm, snapping and squatting to grab your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.
"NO! You promised! Miguel! The food!" You try to reason, throwing any and each accusation you can think of, knowing that you definitely don't want him to drop it and leave you alone, truly. And he knows it. 
And that's when he feels it. With your ass on his bulky shoulder, he can smell it. Your arousal, dripping hot. His fat cock finally hardens completely, its monstrously girthy shaft poking through the shorts. 
You're ovulating.
Groaning ruggedly, he delivers a rough spank to your plump ass before pushing two fingers over the wet mound of your clothed pussy, running them over your slit, teasingly, collecting more of your scent.
He swears the only thing stopping him from fucking you raw right on the kitchen floor is your comfort.
"Okay! You win! Put me down, I'll let you fuck me."
Without a second thought, he places you back on the floor, hands on your hips, talons grazing your tender skin deliciously.
His eyes have reddened, pupils blown wide, exhales hot and labored. You don't want anything more than to wrap your arms around his neck, to press yourself into him, to feel his hard abdomen on your stomach, his pecs on your soft tits, his mouth on your neck.
But you want to see more of how needy he is.
You jolt to the stairs with no warning, climbing the winding wooden steps like a cat. You hear him behind you, his weight put onto each movement as he chases close behind, the staircase creaking under him.
Looking behind before reaching the hallway of the first floor of your mansion, you feel your panties dampen at the sight of the man and the sheer size of him, massive shoulders slightly hunched forward in focus and adrenaline, his height successfully making you stagger on your way to the bedroom.
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divider by @cafekitsune
HOPE YALL LIKE IT IMMA CONTINUE ‼️‼️
a/n: primal play is thoroughly discussed beforehand. insisting that your partner has sex with you even after resistance without having discussed the aforementioned resistance is abusive.
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scoobysnakz · 6 months
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Older
||* Maybe it's because he's safe and keeps you warm in times or need. Or maybe it's because he has those unruly salt and pepper hair and worry lines. Either way, you want him and maybe he wants you.
Maybe you don't know, or maybe you don't care. But he can smell you, the rush of dopamine when he turns his back and you can see his trapezius shining deliciously in his dimly lit room.
pt2
||* dilf!miguel, vaginal fingering, praise kink, eye contact, perv!miguel, college-age reader, lap sitting, slight hair pulling, one shot, Daddy issues, Dom/sub, smut written by a virgin, not proof read
You're young. And oblivious. So painfully oblivious.
At first, Miguel had just assumed it was a defence mechanism. Don’t give them a reaction and they’ll leave you alone. But the more you smile at the guys flirting with you, the more you lean into their non-platonic hugs, the more certain he becomes that you’re just unaware.
And- in all honesty- he's jealous. He doesn't want to feel the shame that weighs down on his shoulders each time your expression softens at his praise. He doesn't want to feel guilt for watching your hips sway as you walk away. He doesn't want to be like them but he craves the audacity to leer at you in broad daylight.
Maybe it's his morals or maybe it's because he's a coward.
Either way, you’re young and oblivious. And deep down, he loves it.
It's worse in HQ, these men are meant to have morals, good morals, and yet they treat you like a fuckdoll to the eyes.
Your perfect, untouched, college body just for them to perv at.
And Miguel hates it. He hates how he has to ignore your pretty eyes staring up at him as he talks, how he has to scold every Spiderman for being a pervert, and he hates how he's just as bad.
Maybe if you weren't so bubbly sweet he wouldn't have to spend each night palming himself to the thought of your perky body, every shower spurting his hot cum on the misty glass and every moment alone with his office with the doors locked and hand muffling his moans.
“Migs?” that nickname, that only you can use, that only you dared to think of.
He turns to face you, a lazy smile drawn across his painfully perfect lips. “Princessa?” And you immediately try to hide the blush that threatens to bloom on your cheeks.
You hold out your hands, a tray holding a ‘spidey spectacular’ on top. In reality, it's nothing spectacular- a beef burger with barbecue sauce, large fries and a medium drink.
“Got you some lunch,” you grin.
He hops down from his podium, cringing at how your body tenses at the loud thud. “Why?” his tone is harsh, cold, forced.
He knows why. You care, you check in on him when no one else does, you randomly ask him if he's drinking more water than coffee that day, if he actually went to sleep the night previous- unknowing to the thoughts of you that kept him up.
“You haven't eaten today,” you stick your arms out, a playful smile on your face and he doesn't ask how you know. You just do, “and you can't capture those nettlesome anomalies on an empty stomach!”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Nettlesome?”
You laugh, a soft one that makes his core ache with need. “My literature professor has permanently engrained fancy words into my brain.” your shocking professor. Probably some perv who keeps you behind to help you with your tests and oggles at your perfectly shaped ass when you bend over to pick up a pen.
And a painful reminder that as mature as you may be, you’re still young. 18 years too young.
He takes the burger from the tray, gaze lingering on the second as he tries to decide if it's for him or not.
“I’m eating with you,” you answer his question without him asking.
“No, princessa.”
You huff at him, soft, rounded lips falling into a pout. It's a habit you've made- bringing him lunch and sitting with him to make sure he's actually eating the food you've bought no matter how hard he protests.
“Fine. I won't eat with you, I'll just sit and stare and probably piss you off,” you smile smugly at him.
“Whatever,” he grumbles, turning away from you and throwing the paper from the burger in the bin.
You hum in response, not even caring for his grouchy attitude because it doesn't bother you. Because you're young, and you don't understand how men work yet.
He pulls himself up to his podium, glowing red webs dangling from the large metal disk where you soon follow.
Maybe you don't know, or maybe you don't care. But he can smell you, the rush of dopamine when he turns his back and you can see his trapezius shining deliciously in his dimly lit room.
You pull yourself close to him, hand resting just between his thigh and yours. So soft and delicate and he wants to ruin the innocence within them. Wants to see your dainty fingers wrapped around his cock, wants to see how you use those digits inside of yourself while- hopefully- thinking of him.
“How’s school?” he feels like an awkward uncle at an even more awkward Christmas party. Is this what it's come to? Him having to ask about your college life because that's your main focus because you’re young… er.
A small scoff escapes you, and you immediately cover up with a cough.
“I’m not seven,” you tease, hand held out to shove him but you immediately withdraw it which makes him frown.
“You look it.” it's your turn to frown.
You blink up at him, wondering if he knows how you crave these sweet moments between the two of you. You hate how dependent you've become on him, how you can't get through the day without thinking of him and using his health as an excuse to come see him.
“You’re an ass,” you fold your arms across your chest, nose scrunching in feigned irritation.
Miguel clicks his tongue at you, head cocking to the side in disapproval. “Language, princessa.”
You mutter a feeble “sorry”, a forced waver to your voice that makes him chuckle lightly.
You turn your head to face him, his dark, almost curls illuminated by the neon orange of his numerous monitors. His eyes meet yours, deep maroon paralysing you in place, peeking fangs slowing your breathing, chiselled features pinking your cheeks.
And you smile. A sickly sweet, beautifully innocent smile. Any other person would look away, grow red with shame, and maybe say something embarrassing. But you? You just smile.
Because you're painfully naive.
You blink up at him, wondering if he knows how you crave these sweet moments between the two of you. You hate how dependent you've become on him, how you can't get through the day without thinking of him and using his health as an excuse to come see him.
“Really?” you turn your head to face him, neck craned back so he gets a perfect view of your soft skin. “Do I look seven?”
Of course, you don't look seven. You look twenty, which you are. But you're mature and not in a creepy way. No one else would think twice about seeing if he's okay, and no adult would have their panties organised by colour like you do either.
The sound of his chewing eventually fills the bleak room. You can see him looking straight ahead through your peripheral.
“No.”
“A man of few words,” you grin.
“A girl of far too many.”
You aren't a girl. You’re a woman. You don't spend time chasing boys, you enjoy literature, and you have your whole life planned out. Kids don't do the things you do. Kids don't want a life with a decent man, with him.
“School’s boring,” you cut through the silence, voice soft, quiet, shy.
Relief washes over him like the first rainfall in the Sahara. He swallows- quickly, and brings his attention back to you- not that it ever really left you.
“It shouldn't be, you're smart, princessa, and if your professors are doing their job you should be engaged with their subjects,” he hates that he sounds so parental and demanding when he speaks to you but it's like a default setting. He expects the best from you because he knows you can achieve it.
You scoff and this time you don't bother hiding it at all. “Thanks,” you mutter dryly, “I’ll keep being smart and then school will be more exciting.”
He grimaces at your dull tone. He's used to your sparkly side, the smiles and the giggles and now you're acting your age, all attitude and sarcasm.
“That’s not what I meant,” he groans, his voice harsher than before.
“What did you mean then, Miguel?” you press on.
“I meant that you're smart enough to entertain yourself, unlike other people.”
And in its own strange way, his ‘complisult’ makes you smile. He sees who you are, that you aren't some immature child.
It feels nice not being viewed as a child for once. A slow, steady warmth travels through you. He's being nice to you, not a rare occurrence but uncommon enough to mean something.
Slowly, you edge your hand closer to his, fingers gently nudging against his own. You pause for a moment, knowing you’re pushing it and waiting for his reaction but when he doesn't pull away you give his hand a squeeze.
“Thanks,” your gentle voice making his cock harden beneath his suit, “in its own way, that was sweet.”
And you grin at him again. Soft lips beaming up at his plain expression as he tries not to think about how badly he needs some relief.
Against his better judgment, he squeezes your hand back. And the soft, nervous, almost squeak that escapes you makes it all worthwhile.
“It’s true. When I went to your universe,” not to jack off while you shower, “I saw your study notes. You work hard, princessa, and it's good, admirable,” hot.
All your life you be craved words so sweet. Someone to tell you that all those years of dedication to being the best and coming second is too, better than good. Someone to tell you that when they saw your study notes they didn't see you as dumb you have to revise but studious enough to want the best.
You don't even think twice about him being in your universe, just putting it down to an anomaly or another perfectly innocent reason.
He can smell it again, that dopamine rush. You pull yourself closer to him, taunting him unknowingly and let your head rest on his shoulder.
You do this often, allow yourself to lean against him, intertwine your fingers with his, plant endearing kisses to his stubbly cheeks when he helps you out. And you do it so secretly that it's almost sexual but the innocence you perform these acts with makes it feel painfully platonic.
All he can do is ride out this moment of pure torment. Cock stiff and thighs burning.
Deep down he knows he shouldn't be like this, savouring your innocence that he can so easily capture on cameras he can use later. You're so pure, sacred almost, that it feels wrong to even have his arms wrapped around your waist.
“Migs?” that nickname that only you get to use because if he gets to call you princessa its only fair.
Your hand slips off of his and moves to rest on his thigh. “Migs?” you say a little louder this time. He hums dully.
“Princessa?”
Sometimes you wonder if he knows how wet his voice makes you. The low rumble that passes through his chest, the silky smooth movements of his lips, the slight tinge of an accent that makes your cunt flutter.
You let your thumb travel over the ridges of his fingers, smooth over the peaks of his knuckles.
His hand is so big compared to yours, something that the two of you haven't ignored.
He wonders how the rest of you feels, past the tight lycra of your suit as it covers your wrists, against the fresh cotton of his bedsheets, flush against his chest.
The dull humming of the monitors accompanied by your heavy breathing and the subtle whirring of the random machinery warms up the silence between the two of you.
You shift yourself to face him, pretty lips pursed and brow furrowed.
Maybe it's because he's so safe right now. Or maybe it's because you failed your paper and his praise is all you need. But he looks painfully handsome.
Broad shoulders rising and falling with every breath. Soft lips parted in hunger. The sea of deep sepias and carmines that is his eyes.
Miguel has always been there for you. Well, maybe not always, but often enough. Your roommates being assholes? You can sleep at HQ. Suit ripped? He’ll make you a new one.
And in this moment, you can't see past that. He may be older, grey strands peppering his umber locks and worry lines framing his features, but that doesn't matter.
So you lean up close to him, faces inches apart. Just to smell him, just to see him, just to be near him, just to feel him.
He flinches at first, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. His gaze runs up and down your figure, trying to figure out what you're doing, your innocent expression leaving far too much up for interpretation.
For a moment the two of you just stare at each other, arousal burning white-hot in your core and bodies thrumming with desire.
A calloused hand moves to cup your cheek and pull you closer. Miguel lets out a low sigh, hot breath tickling your face and making your nose scrunch in a way that can only be described as perfect.
Your breathing slows and your heart hammers. He's so close, soft lips just within reach.
“Can I?” his voice is almost a croak, a desperate plea.
He can't tear his eyes away from your quivering lips. He wants to feel them against his own, taste you, have your mouth in his possession.
You don't get time to finish your feeble “please” before he's pressing his lips against yours.
It's soft at first, the two of you gradually warming to the sensation of each other. But when you let out a soft sigh something inside him switches. All morals and guilt go completely out the window and his senses are filled with you.
His tongue probes hungrily at your lips, seeking access to the warmth of your mouth and you happily agree. His hands slide down to your hips, fingertips pressing into the soft flesh crudely hidden beneath your suit.
“Need you,” you groan, hands gripping his chest with desperation. He silences you with another kiss, tongue immediately attacking yours, too impolite, too hard, too impatient to wait for your sanction.
He's blinded by lust, a desire that's been building up inside him for too long. His arm snakes to the small of your back, protruding talons catching on the material of your suit. He pulls you into his lap and you nearly gasp at the sensation of his erection brushing against your clothed cunt.
You lean back slightly so you can look at him, chest rising and falling with each pant. “Say something,” you pout, his mutism making your head swarm with confusion, “let me hear your voice.”
The neediness of your tone makes him smile, a boyish, cheeky one that makes your stomach flutter.
“What do you want me to say?” he questions, fingers tracing up and down the bridge of your spine.
“Just… talk me through it,” you pause, cunt fluttering and thighs tensing, “it’s my first time,” you admit quietly. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. It's something you've never admitted, viewing virginity as a burden more than the blessing men do.
“Who said I'm gonna fuck you?”
Oh.
You purse your lips, your smile faltering and skin prickling with embarrassment as you fidget on his lap. His cock strains against his suit, hips threatening to buck up when you unintentionally grind against him.
You look down and a smirk forms on your face. You press the heel of your palm against his erection, eyes widening with arousal at the whine that escapes him. “This did.”
You swear that for a moment you can see a glint of red in his eyes, much darker, meaner, than his usual cool mahogany.
“Don't,” he grunts, hand gripping your wrist.
The excited grin on your face brings him back. He can't do this to you. He can't take your innocence, be the one to steal what makes you so pure. He's done things he's ashamed of, killed, lied, hated. He isn't deserving of the sweet bliss that’s you.
Your lips fall into a disappointed pout. Have you done something wrong? Maybe you’ve been too eager?
“I… I'm sorry?” you pose your apology as a question, unsure of what's actually going on. You’re inexperienced but this… this isn't normal.
“No, mierda, no, princesa,” and his hands back on your cheek, thumb tracing over the curve of your vermillion. “No digas lo siento.” your brow furrows in confusion but he doesn't elaborate.
He wants to ruin you, corrupt your pretty pussy with his hot cum and watch it seep out in think dribbles before he can stuff it back in with his fingers. But he can't.
That sweet innocence in your eyes, lashes fluttering with arousal from a simple kiss. He can't do this to you.
“Look at me,” he commands and on instinct, your eyes meet his.
“Good Girl,” he croons.
“I'm confused, Migs,” you push his hand off your cheek softly, head cocked to the side, “you’re confusing me.”
He brings a hand to your cunt and he cups it, the heel of his palm digging into your cunt. “Let me do this instead, hmm?” you nod in agreement, head too fuzzy with the strange mixture of arousal and bewilderment to even process the jolt of pleasure that shot down your spine.
The sound of ripping draws your attention down to your arousal-slick folds but he clicks his tongue. “Eyes on me, chica,” his tone is slightly harsher now but his eyes are still warm.
You don't know what he's doing. If he's coming or going. If he's teasing you or allowing this to go further.
“Mi-” he presses his index finger to your lips, not that he needed more than his intense gaze to silence you.
“You said this is your first time?” you nod again.
“No one else has touched you?” his fingers part the tear in your suit, your damp panties on show for him.
“No one.”
His thumb starts to slowly circle your cotton-clothed clit eliciting a soft gasp from you.
“Do you want me to touch you, princessa?”
Your fingers dig into the muscle of his thighs but he doesn't flinch. A sharp talon nips at your weeping bud and you nearly cry. It sends a jolt of pain fused with sickly sweet pleasure coursing through your veins. “Asked you a question didn't I?”
You nod your head again, not knowing how to answer.
“Use your words.”
Your cunt is dribbling its juices all down your thighs- and he can smell it. His mouth is practically drooling at the scent it your arousal. He's trying so hard not to rip your suit all the way and split you open with his cock. But you're gentle, soft, sweet, delicate. So he has to be as well.
Taking a shaky, deep breath, you nod your head again, “I want you to touch me, Miguel.”
“Muy bein, princessa,” his thumb slips under the waistband of your panties and comes to rest on your clit but he doesn't stimulate you. Just leaves it resting on the hardened nub.
You whine at the lack of friction, hips trying to grind against his hand but his free hand holds you down.
“Migs, please,” you know you sound pathetically needy but you don't care. The man you've been lusting after since he first recruited you has his hand in your pants.
“Then keep looking at me,” he instructs, “wanna see your pretty face. Can you do that for me?” he grins at the twitching in your cunt caused by his words. That's all the confirmation he needs.
His thumb begins its slow pattern around the hood of your clit while his other hand rests on your waist, keeping you planted firmly on his lap. And maybe so you can feel how big he is.
His hands are surprisingly gentle. You've seen him kill before, seen the plethora of blood he can draw from someone with one fell swoop. Yet he's always been so careful with you, right now being no exception. Maybe that's what’s drawn you to him, the idea of him viewing you as something so sacred that he can't bring himself to damage your fragile body.
The tedious speed he's using is purposefully slow. He wants to draw this out for as long as possible, keep you a squirming mess on his lap, your sweet nectar running down to his thighs. But you want more; you’re too shy to ask for it but you want it.
You press your lips to his again, tongue slipping into his mouth almost sloppily. He's taken aback at first by your sudden burst of confidence but he doesn't protest. The hand that was resting in your hip moves to the back of your head to press you deeper into the kiss.
You whine hungrily and he rewards you with a faster pace. Your thighs clench around him, not actually expecting your plan to work. Your eyes flutter for a moment but he grips your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him.
“Princessa, I'll stop,” his warning is heed enough.
Your mind’s a foggy blur of arousal and pure bliss. He keeps toying with your clit, slowing down when your gaze falters but speeding up and rewarding you if you've kept eye contact.
“Please, I'll be good, so good for you,” you mewl, craving his kind words of praise again.
“Will you? Will you let me see those pretty lips of yours smile so sweetly for me while I make you feel good?” you nod your head excessively, mumbled “yes I will”’s and “good for you”’s spilling from your lips.
The hot coil of pleasure tightens with each flick of his distal. More and more sweet moans spew from your loose hanging mouth which are just music to his ears. Your leaky hole clenches around nothingness but you're too shy to ask for more. Miguel’s thumb is good enough but what you really crave is that hard cock that's pushing up against your stomach.
Soft, sticky clicking sounds mellow in the warmth of the rooms atmosphere, arousal blending in smoothly along with the scent of your nearing climax. He can sense it, your hips stuttering and your nails digging into the meat of his chest. But he can't let you go just yet.
“Hold it for me,” its a command, not a request.
You bite your lower lip, eyes nearly watering as you try you hardest to hold back. Your poor cunt throne needily while it continues to pump hot juices all over his hand. “I-I don't know how,” you blubber, thighs trembling and hands twitching.
Your body runs white hot with pleasure while your mind teeters on the edge of climax.
“I know you can, be a good girl, princessa,” he pressed earnestly, two-toned lips falling into that signature smirk.
You let your head come to rest in the crook of his neck. He flinches at the warmth of your breath and grabs the back of your hair roughly. You whine at the sharp tug but don't protest further.
“Fuck did I tell you ‘bout looking away?” his voice is almost harsh but you don't care. Your whole body is tingling with so much euphoria, blood pumping hot with pleasure, that you don't even care about his talon catching on your clit.
You’re so close to cumming, to reaching that paradise he's dangling in front of you like a carrot on a stick. “Let me, I-i can't, Migs.”
He frowns.
Once you're done that's it. He has to let you go, push off his lap and keep you at arm's length. But he can't bring himself to do that, get rid of your warmth and tiny frame.
“Migs? Please, let me…” you cut yourself with a silent moan.
Your mouth falls slack, eyes widening for a moment before fluttering closed. Warmth washes over you, trickling down your spine like honey from a jar. And for a moment you think you've gone deaf because Miguel’s lips are moving but you can't figure out what he's saying.
Your arousal spills from your cunt and all the way down his hands in a warm, blanketing trinket of your pleasure.
He clicks his tongue in disappointment but lets you ride out your high with his thumb remaining on your pussy.
“Fuck,” you breathe, voice cracking in a way that only makes his cock harden.
“Mmmm, did my princessa enjoy herself?” you look up at him, eyes glazed over with lust.
Your orgasm took enough energy for you to be exhausted now. You can barely lift your head let alone reply to him. When you try to smile your eyes just roll back slightly, your lashes fluttering and your nose scrunching.
You’ve come before, plenty of times, but this feels different. This time it feels all warm and gooey like it's going to stick to you forever. Maybe it's because it's Miguel’s fingers instead of your own toying with your cunt or maybe it's because you got to hold onto him. Either way, you've just cum all over his hands and can't form a proper sentence now.
Miguel smiles down at you, revelling in your blissed-out expression. Knowing that he's drawn this pleasure from you makes his insides churn.
“Pretty Girl,” he coos, hand smoothing your spine, “so pretty for me, hmm? Cumming just from me playing with her pretty pussy.” as if to prove a point, he spreads your sticky folds open with his thumb two middle fingers, a soft gooey sound catching your attention.
“Wonder if your cunt is just as pretty?” be slides a harsh finger inside with a grunt, eliciting a sharp gasp from you, “want me to fuck your tight hole, princessa?”
And you nod. Too fucked out, too tired, too needy, too in love with him without either of you knowing it yet, to push him away.
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