Tumgik
#i know what you are.... i see you you're not slick.....
grandlinedreams · 2 days
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|| this man is an exposed live wire in my brain ok
|| notes: uhh prequel to [this] and [this], semi Canon compliant, pre-s1 but mentions of pre-war Cooper, I love the dynamic 😔👌✨️
|| warnings: hopefully IC Cooper, asshole x asshole dynamic we love to see it, weapons/supply dealer!reader, Canon typical violence, mention of blood/reader is injured kinda, spoilers? Abt Cooper's backstory, kinda enemies to friends/lovers
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He doesn't know why he's here.
No, that's a lie ㅡ he does know why he's here, he just doesn't want to admit it. To himself, or to anyone else, for that matter. That he needs help.
Those fancy little bullets for his gun are hard to come by, few and far between when he can't get them by looting and places like Ma June's enjoy extorting as much as they can for so very little.
There's a difference between business transactions and highway robbery, even now. Which is why he's here ㅡ he'd gotten talk about a place that sold weapons and weapon-related supplies at a fair rate, and necessity had made him swallow his pride to go and find out for himself.
Which is why he's not just turning around and fuckin' leaving.
The building is crammed between two others, as ramshackle as the rest being made of recycled tin and wood that's rotted by time and rain in places, but still suggests a stability that won't crumble if somebody breathes too hard on it.
Cooper's spurs jingle as he walks, lost momentarily to the chime of something over his head when he pushes the door open. He looks up, forehead creasing.
Is that a bell?
Rusted but still in working order, it clatters again when he shuts the door, looking around. It's about as put together as any other kind of shop, an eclectic organization to it ㅡ a couple of rifles, a pistol or two, along with an admittedly impressive assortment of knives ㅡ but it's the shine of something on the floor that makes Cooper stop.
His head cocks as he studies the stain, the still-slick shimmer to it that makes him crouch and drag two gloved fingers against it, studying the residue. Coppery, with a hefty dose of some kind of chem to clean it, but still unmistakable ㅡ blood.
Well damn. He doesn't know what's happened here and he's pretty sure he doesn't care to, much beyond the fact that if the runner of this place is dead, that puts a damper on things. Or maybe not ㅡ if nobody's here, what's to stop him from taking what he wants?
"If you're thinkin' of stealing," comes a call that snaps his head up as it echoes from further back in the building, "I'd advise you not to. Less you wanna meet your maker, then I'd be happy to assist."
It's a flat bravado that both amuses him and piques his interest, and he leans against the counter to rap his knuckles. "Not stealin'," he drawls, "just wonderin' what kind of business model you've got if you make customers wait."
"The kind where patience is still a virtue, that's what." Foosteps, unhurried ㅡ and then Cooper is staring at you as you round the corner. You've got a jumpsuit of some indistinguishable color opened to rest around your hips, dingy tank-top underneath ㅡ and a stimpak in your hand. No doubt for the mess of your other arm, bicep wrapped with gauze that's already seeped into a bloom of bright red.
Well now. Cooper wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but you still manage to surprise him. Enough that he's staring, which makes you scowl.
"I know that look," you challenge, "if you think I'm easy picking, you'll get a new place to breathe from, courtesy of the hole I'll put in your head."
Cooper's head cocks. "Well now sugar," he says, "that's not very nice now, is it? Wasn't even thinkin' of that." He turns, jerks a thumb at the half-assed cleaning of the mess on the floor. "That's your doin', I reckon."
You nod. "Don't get trouble much," you say, "but when I do, I make sure to prove a point." You jam the stimpak into your arm, and he watches the tension melt from your shoulders. "Now, what can I do for you besides point out the exit?"
Well damn, Cooper thinks again. You've got a pretty face, but it's at odds with the attitude coming from that nice little mouth of yours. About as welcoming as a rattlesnake and probably just as quick to anger, from the way you bristle as he eyes you.
"Need supplies," he says, and you snort.
"What a wellspring of information you are. What kind of supplies?" You eye him, brow furrowing. "You're a bounty hunter, aren't you? Get your kind in here all the time." You tap a worn boot against the floor, hands now on your hips. "Hope you got means to pay for shit, because I don't do tab and I sure as fuck don't do charity work."
Cooper isn't sure if he likes you or he hates you. Bit of both, he guesses. The like is tentative and the hate is more solid ground, because he hates just about everybody. Makes it easier to do what needs to be done.
"Well, sweetheart," he leans into the counter, tips his hat, "depends on what you got to show me that's worth buyin'."
You stare, unimpressed by whatever angle he's going for. He's handsome, you'll give him that ㅡ but not much else. He also reminds you of somebody, with that hat of his and the way he talks ㅡ the low, drawn out drawl that you've only seen in those movies you manage to scrounge up here and there for your amusement.
Rolling your eyes, you hold up a finger and shrug your arms back into the jumpsuit, though you don't bother to zip it up. "Gimme a sec."
You don't know why you're doing this. Entertaining the notion that if you show him good enough product, he'll become a regular. You like regulars, but most of what you get seem to run on about six months worth of visits and then vanish.
Probably dead. Such is the way of the world, and it's still enough to get by. But you like new faces.
To his credit, he doesn't flinch when you slap the first pack onto the counter, followed by a second, and then a third.
"This is baseline stuff," you explain. "Your usual grade of bullet. Black powder, the standard kick." You shove the first pack at him, let him inspect the bullets. "Then you've got these."
The second pack shoved over, thin fabric parted so he can eye the neat little row of what would be hollow-point bullets if they didn't end with a tiny, pointed bulb of red glass.
"Explosive rounds." Your expression is unreadable. "They do the job, but they need special packing. Unless you wanna be blown up before the damn things even get loaded into the gun."
Cooper hums, eyes the bullet he holds up, the barely there shift of powder in the glass. He watches as you push the third over. "And these?"
"Same, but they pack even more of a punch. I'd recommend only shooting them at shit you want up in smoke." You shrug. "Or people, deathclaws, whatever the fuck you do out there."
Cooper studies you. "Where did you get this stuff? Thought bullets were hard to come by."
You give him a flat look of annoyance. "I make 'em myself."
Cooper stares, then smirks. Another little tip to his head. "Really now," he says, watches you bristle like a viper, ready to strike. Wonders if those fangs of yours pack a punch, what he'd need to do to get you to spit at him. "How 'bout you show me, darlin'? Wanna make sure what I buy is good quality."
You should tell him to shove it. Tell him to get the absolute fuck out of your shop, take his fuckin' yeehaw personality to someone else in the mood to deal with it ㅡ but you don't.
Instead, you sigh and tug the packages back, moving away from the counter. "Well c'mon then," you prompt, irritated. "Don't have all goddamn day."
The back of your shop is half a home and half a workshop, sprawled mess of equipment rusted with time but otherwise well maintained, smell of grease and hot metal and gunpowder that clings to everything.
You don't have to look back to know he's followed you, the jingle of his spurs as he takes his time, eyes missing nothing. The boxes of empty casings and empty glass bulbs ㅡ and the Mister Handy that's slumped in the corner, sparks spitting from it.
"Poor thing got shot first with that...situation earlier." Your voice is quiet. "Gotta fix 'im if I can."
Kind of funny, you sound sadder about the damn machine than the fact you'd killed someone over it. Then again, they'd been trying to kill you, so...eh. Justified, in your book.
The rest of the room is a haphazard attempt at something like a house ㅡ a couch with blankets on it, a short stack of books gone yellow at the edges, a coffee table ㅡ and sitting on it is a shitty little television, staticy and without color ㅡ but that doesn't matter. What matters to Cooper is that he knows what it's playing.
Your flitting around fades a little as he watches himself on screen ㅡ forever ago, a lifetime ago. Before the bombs, before vault-tec ㅡ when he'd been happy.
He'd loved his life, his family ㅡ and they'd loved him too.
"I've got enough stuff to make another round of flash-baㅡ" You stop, blinking at the way he's staring at the television. "Somethin' wrong? I know this isn't much, but it's my way of living, soㅡ"
"Stop your yappin'," Cooper rasps, and you glare as he shakes himself out of whatever reverie he was lost in. You scowl.
"Look, I know this doesn't seem like much of anything, but this is my business, and my shop." Your eyes narrow. "So try to be a little fuckin' nicer if you want me to sell you anything."
Whatever patience he'd had left promptly snaps like a bowstring as he snatches your arm, grips it tighter than he should. "Listen, sweetheart," he hisses, "what exactly is stopping me from just takin' what I want and leaving?"
Something whirrs behind him, distracts him just enough for the cool, sharp kiss of metal at his throat.
"Do it," you taunt, expression unreadable, grip tight on the blade you hold to his neck. "You're not the first one to try, and you won't be the last."
And there, Cooper notes, are your fangs, ready to sink into his skin. The two of you stare at each other for a good, long minute while the Mister Handy spits and sputters. And then Cooper huffs something like a laugh. "Glad to see you've got some bite to you, darlin', but I still think I could handle you."
A threat and something a little less hostile all in one, even as you yank your arm out of his grasp. "You couldn't handle me even if I came with a fuckin' manual," you snap back, but there's a playful gleam to your eyes. "You gonna buy anything or just lookin' to be a pain in my ass?"
A crooked grin tugs at Cooper's mouth. "Both."
The truce between the two of you is tentative. An understanding in the barest sense, because neither of you are dumb enough to pass up a lucrative, beneficial deal. He gets his supplies, you get caps. Simple.
You won't go as far as to say you're even friends, up until the point that you greet him on a visit with, "You know, you remind me of somebody."
He eyes you. "Really now. And who would that be, sweetheart? You workin' with more ghouls than just me?"
You snort. "Careful," you tease, "you almost sound jealous." Your tone quiets as you drum your fingers on the counter. "Nah, you remind me of that one actor, Cooper Howard."
Cooper stills. Watches you warily, turning a spent bullet casing over and over between gloved fingers.
"He played a cowboy," you say, nodding to yourself. "Talked like you do, too. Good movies, at least the ones I've gotten my hands on." You eye him, playful light to your eyes. "Wouldn't happen to be a fan of him too, would you?"
Cooper debates. He's not sure if you've put the pieces together and if you have, you're polite enough not to say it. He appreciates that, makes that fleeting temptation of putting a bullet in your head all the more temporary. He likes you. Be a shame if he had to cut ties.
"No," he answers. "I can safely say he and I are nothin' alike." Not anymore. He lets himself lean over the counter, too close to your face. Intimidation, maybe, or perhaps just because he likes being able to look at you like this. "Got anythin' else to tell me?"
Your eyes flick over his face, down to his lips as you lean a little closer, the suggestion of your mouth just shy of his. "Yeah," you murmur, quiet. "Next time you come by, work on your fuckin' manners."
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Hiii Miss Ravennn! 😊 I’m sure you’ve seen the new club Leona by now and if not now then at some point you will. 🎤 Care to share with the class about what your thoughts on it are?
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-Insert groaning sfx here-
IF I MUST... 💀
***Spoilers for Epel, Ruggie, and Leona's Club Wear cards below the cut!!***
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*aggressively leans into the mic* ALRIGHT, WHICH ONE OF YOU TWST DEVS DECIDED TO PUT THE GUY WITH THE BIGGEST CHEST NEXT TO TWO OF THE FLATTEST GUYS IN THE WHOLE CAST 🤡 That poor belt looks like it's going to burst, it truly is the strongest soldier of Magift/Spelldrive Club... I'm going to have to avoid scrolling on socials for like the next week or else I just know I'm going to be clocked by fan art after fan art of Leona in uniform 🪦
BUT HEY, IT'S OKAY, IT'S FINE, IT'S FIIIIINE. Let's compare the club outfits of Leona against his teammates to distract me from thinking about rolling for L*ona!
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Many fans already predicted Leona's new hairstyle would be something that kept his hair out of his face, similar to what we see for Epel and Ruggie. This makes sense, as you would not want anything obscuring your line of sight if you're going to be playing a sport. I like that they differentiated Leona's ponytail from the one he wears in his PE Uniform card! In his new Clubwear, Leona's bangs are slicked back to not get in his way, and the ponytail is much higher. The PE Uniform ponytail still has his usual bangs and the ponytail is very low.
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Around Leona, Epel, and Ruggie's necks appears to be some kind of... cord???? (I'm not familiar with sporting gear, so I don't know what the terminology for this piece is. Sorry!!) There is a different number of golden notches, and I wonder if this corresponds with their year level since Epel (the first year) has one, Ruggie (the second year) has two, and Leona (the third year and club captain) has three.
RE SO EXTRA?????? 'An interesting detail is that Ruggie and Epel have goggles with different colored coatings on their lenses to reflect their dorms (golden for Savanaclaw, purple for Pomefiore). Leona, however, does not have traditional goggles, nor are they mounted on his head. He seems to have a pair of sunglasses dangling from the little side pocket that holds his magical pen. Ruggie and Epel's footwear also indicates their dorm allegiance via colors. Leona's shoes are that signature Savanaclaw yellow as well, but... ahbdbyovqyfefe THEY'RE'An interesting detail is that Ruggie and Epel have goggles with different colored coatings on their lenses to reflect their dorms (golden for Savanaclaw, purple for Pomefiore). Leona, however, does not have traditional goggles, nor are they mounted on his head. He seems to have a pair of trendy-looking sunglasses dangling from the little side pocket that holds his magical pen. Ruggie and Epel's footwear also indicates their dorm allegiance via colors. Leona's shoes are that signature Savanaclaw yellow as well, but... ahbdbyovqyfefe THEY'RE SO EXTRA???? At first I thought it was a bunch of shiny golden particles but upon closer inspection, it looks to be more like a purposefully textured fade. Truly, hats off to the designers and artists for somehow making a variant of the club uniform that conveys Leona’s arrogance and includes luxurious fashion (though let’s be honest, Ruggie probably maxed Leona’s credit card buying these accessories for him www).
<_<
>_>
A n y w a y
I think my favorite part of this new card is Leona’s face. You can unfortunately get a good look at how handsome he is here 💀 The cocky smirk, the sharp and bright eyes, his sharp jawline, how his locks fall around his face and call attention to… YOU KNOW, EVERYTHING???? 😭 His regal aura really is there front and center…
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But no, no!! I shan’t roll for him 🙃 I can appreciate from afar, I don’t need to have ojitan in my card roster, nope.
Since the Epel Clubwear first dropped and I saw the buckles… I’ve been on a spiritual retreat in the mountains and lived a humble life as a nun, meditating in the peace and tranquility of nature to attain enlightenment. I have no worldly desires such as Fake Cat 🙏 This is me coping
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dodgeirs · 20 hours
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⊹ ᳝ ࣪ midnights with hotch.
cw. 16+, soft!hotch, fem!reader, established relationship, slight p with plot, riding, hotch is needy, funny hotch makes an appearance, cockwarming
wc. 996 (yikes, i got carried away)
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“aaron?” you call out at the familiar feel of large warm hands on your hips.
“i’m here.” he responds, it's a whisper in your ear.
there's a small part of him that feels bad once he hears how groggy you sound, but he continues pawing at your waist harder and shuffling his body closer to yours.
“‘m sorry, baby. but, i need you.”
at those three words you turn around to face him, brushing your hand over his face. he's always had on a hardened expression, so it's always a privilege to see him so relaxed and soft. but, with that you knew exactly what he meant. aaron had called you while you were cleaning up from cooking dinner for you, jack, and eventually aaron, already aware that he had a workload he needed to finish up before coming home. unfortunately, strauss needed him to stay back even later for some important filing. on the call he told you not to apologize for his workload, but that didn't stop you from damning strauss.
you couldn't imagine how tired he was, and you even wondered how he managed to shower upright.
“where do you need me, aaron?” you questioned. you could predict how we wanted you from all the other nights, but you always asked.
“on top?” he lets out. even in the dark you can tell his brown eyes got big at the question. he knows you don't particularly like the work of riding, but being with aaron you never mind, and maybe that's because even on top he still did most of the work.
“on your back.”
aaron follows your command, falling to his back with a huff. he still has a hand on your waist as you maneuver your panties off. you then move to take off his boxers, tapping his waist to signal that you needed him to lift his hips up.
you're met with his already hard cock.
“you're already hard?”
“been thinking ‘bout you all day.” it's an honest answer.
“you think about me, huh?”
that pulls a chuckle from aaron. “i always think 'bout you. now c’mere.”
he lazily pulls you on top of him. and you press against his hard chest as the two of you lazily make out.
“missed you s’much.” he says, breaking the kiss to take your face in his hands.
you lean back down and give him another peck.
“missed you too, baby. s’much.”
moving down to kiss his jaw, careful to not leave any hickeys, he always scolds you the following morning as you pat concealer onto where you had bruised him.
rocking you hips at the feeling of one of aaron’s hands making its way to your pussy.
the feeling of his fingers circling your clit makes you gasp.
“aaron-” you plea.
“what's this? you're already so wet.”
he's rubbing at your slick hole. “you're already ready for me?” his tease comes out in a condescending tone.
“so, maybe i was thinking about you earlier.”
“mhm, is the so?”
“yeah” you say, giving him one last peck before pushing yourself up. spitting in your hand and giving aaron’s length a few pumps before you tease his tip at your entrance.
“no teasing.” he gruffs out, gripping at your waist, allowing him to push you down on his length.
you bite you lip to keep yourself from moan, and aaron lets out a grunt.
“you feel so good. s’warm.”
you hum at his praise. beginning to rock your hips, throwing your head back at the feeling of aaron’s cock hitting where you need most.
“fuck, aaron.”
it’s a little pathetic at how close you're already getting. peering at the man below only drives you closer. aaron looks blissed out, his eyes are shut, mouth slightly agape as he lets out quiet grunts. while his hands found their ways underneath your tank top, and are harshly gripping at your hips which is completely different to how he normally holds your waist to guide you. but, no, his gripping, is a grip of need to stabilize himself, and you know you'll feel tender in the morning, but that only motivates you to keep riding him harder.
“‘m close.” aaron spits out.
you continue what you're doing, planting your hands on his sturdy chest.
“cum for me, aaron. give it to me.”
it's not long before you watch aaron’s body stutter, you're own climax coming over you quickly after his.
you rock a few more times before you completely still, falling into his chest with a huff. aaron’s arms instantly wrapping around your body.
the two of you lie for a moment in each other's embrace as you fall from your highs.
pushing yourself up so that your elbows are on either side of aaron’s head.
“did you eat?” you had meant to ask him earlier but got occupied.
“really?”
“i can't be worried out you?” you exclaim.
aaron laughs at your exaggeration. “yes, i did eat. anderson picked up some dinner for me.”
you frown, and he must've been able to tell, even in the darkness, because a hand comes up to your face and his thumb fixes your frown into a half frown half smile.
“turn that frown, upside down. i ate, honey. aren't you happy?"
“no.” you say plainly. “i’m not very convinced by your answer. really, did you eat?”
“yes, i did.”
“lies. i know you don't like sending people to do stuff for you, and i only packed you lunch a few snacks.”
“sweetheart-”
“really, i’ll make you something. i made jack and i quesadillas, we still have all the ingredients i prepped. the chicken is even-.”
aaron cuts you off by pulling you into a kiss.
“i ate. end of story. i just want us both to sleep now.”
you pout at him, but you really can't argue with aaron.
“'m not getting off.” you mumble.
“that's fine, you're warm.”
“you're s’gross.”
aaron snickers, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“sleep.”
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all-purpose-dish-soap · 17 hours
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27 / 1.7k / spreading rumors about dating Gaz, part 2
⬇ nsfw; mention of revenge porn
...
Gaz doesn't negotiate. He doesn't back down. When the situation calls for it, he knows when it's time to escalate.
That's why he fucks you on your dining room table instead of a public bathroom. Partly because he's not a slag. The idea of you possibly agreeing to do it--of giving him the same ammunition you gave your ex to humiliate you--leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Even if you started rumors and risked his reputation.
A growl rises in his throat at the thought of your ex having the gall to send him that video of you. Christ. What on Earth did you see in him?
Partly, though, he wants to fuck you in your own house so that when he next sees your prat of an ex-boyfriend, he can properly rub it in that fucker's face that you invited him in on the first date.
Or maybe he'll take a picture of your panties in his teeth. He hasn't decided yet.
You're strung out with pleasure, your bare back against the table. You’re caught between wondering why he wanted to fuck you after all and letting every last reservation about it vanish into nothing. You’ve always wanted this. You never thought it would happen.
"Sergeant," you gasp out. "Is this-- what about your reputation--?"
"Don't start." His fingers trail the lines of your body, his eyes fixed on the parts of you he caught only blurry glimpses of in your ex's video. It didn't do you justice.
He wants to pretend there's nothing to this besides convenience--you did owe him. Hell, you wanted to sleep with him. You always made that crystal clear. Now he's just allowing himself to give in to baser impulses like a dog snatching up a rabbit thrown into its path.
But you're right. This will look bad if someone finds out. He should worried, but it's hard to care about that when the thing competing for his attention is the filthy way your pussy swallows him again and again, seeing how slick you leave the base of his cock.
He should've used a condom. He knows for a fact you knew he didn't and you said nothing. He'd tell you off for it now, too, but he's absolutely certain it would just make you cum. The nerve of you.
His hips stutter for a second before he can banish that thought from his mind. He shouldn't like the idea of you being that obsessed. Acting like you'd do anything he asked. Christ, work would be a nightmare if this got out. Him actually sleeping with you. But then again, he suddenly doesn't much like the idea of you finding a different rebound. You'd just be thinking of him anyway, right? Wouldn’t you?
Whatever. He’ll deal with the fallout later. When he's not enjoying your body.
“Who’s going to know?” he murmurs, eyes falling to your chest. “Let it go.”
“Mkay,” you sigh out. There's nothing more you want than to please him right now.
"You'd do anything I asked, wouldn't you." It's not a question. You both know it's true. And he likes that--he hates admitting it, but he does. His eyes drop to your pussy again, and his hips pick up their pace.
You've spent months flirting with him, teasing him about taking you to bed. Now you're getting everything you want. He's right. Why would you care one goddamn second about the consequences? “Anything.”
He hates how needy you sound when you say that. You're too trusting. He's taking advantage of you. Don't you get that?
His grip on your hips tightens, pushing into you more and more roughly. Your moans rise in pitch and he has to grit his teeth.
“Good." He says lowly. "Then you won't tell a soul about this, will you?"
"But--ah, ngh..." You bite your lip as he stops thrusting and grinds himself into you. You gyrate your hips, needing friction. "But people already think we're together."
“Do they? That’s a bold claim.” You're overestimating how many people believe silly rumors. Besides, it's hardly your concern anymore. He lays his palms flat on the table on either side of you, bracing himself. Your skin is so soft; your neck tempts him, but he restrains himself. "You're keeping your mouth shut from now on, yeah?"
You let out a sound of frustration as he slows even further. You try to push your hips harder against his. "Sergeant, please!"
"You want this, don't you?" His voice is chilled, but the heat in his eyes as he stares down at your bucking hips is hardly discouraging. "You'll want it again. You'll keep wanting it."
"Ugh, yes," you snap, squeezing your thighs fruitlessly around his toned waist.
"As long as you don't tell a soul about this, I’ll see to it that you get what you want," he growls. "Not your team, your friends, your stupid ex. No one."
You open your mouth to question him again, but he pulls away and snaps his hips hard into yours. Whatever you were about to say dissolves into a string of semi-coherent affirmations. Yes, you'll keep it quiet. Yes, you'll pretend none of this ever happened. Yes, you'll never use his name on base again. Anything he wants. Just don't stop.
"Good girl. Good girl..." Easy enough. Now that he knows how to get his way with you, you shouldn't be such a problem anymore. He can’t help but be a little greedy, though. "You're not going to fuck anyone else, either."
"Never!"
He grunts in approval. "And you'll never--and I mean never --try to get back with your ex. Understand? You'll stay away from him."
You writhe and plead, winding your arms around his shoulders. He grabs your wrists and pins them to the table, the muscles in his arms taut.
"Do. You. Understand?" His voice comes down on you like low thunder, all around you.
"Yes!"
"Good. I'll know if you do. Mm…" His breathing grows shallow. Your heat is impossibly tight, and tightening up even more. He squeezes your wrists. "You going to cum?"
"C-Can I?" you breathe out. "Please, can I cum?"
His hips stutter and he has to close his eyes for a moment. God, he's never been tested like this.
"Sergeant, please!"
"Cum," he says, the word short and sharp like gunfire. "Cum on my cock. Right now."
He presses his thumb to your clit and you wail, clenching around him like you haven't cum in weeks. Your body rolls, practically convulses, your head knocking against your dining table as you arch up. He lets out a snarl, not slowing down despite how painfully tight you squeeze him.
Once you come down from the high, his pace never slowing, your swollen core twitches and spasms with overstimulation. You cry out, but you make yourself stay in place. You want to keep making him feel good. You want to make him feel better than he ever has.
"Cum inside me," you pant out. "I-I'm on birth control. You can-- please--"
"You're a liar," he growls through clenched teeth even as he picks up his pace.
"I promise," you plead. Even if you're a liar, and you are, you're not lying about this. God, you want him to do it so bad you can feel yourself clench up again at the thought.
You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm when he pulls out, spilling his load across your chest and stomach instead.
You clench down on nothing, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction even as your orgasm ebbs out of reach. You let your head fall back onto the table, your breathing heavy. You don't see his eyes running over you, deliberating.
"Sergeant?"
"Mm?"
"Do you maybe want my phone number?" Almost seems like a silly question. He has your address now anyway.
"Hm." He pulls away, picking up your discarded purse from the mess of clothes on the floor. He pulls out your phone and opens your texts, types in his number, and sends himself a quick message. Then he finds your conversation with your ex-boyfriend. His eyes narrow. The last texts exchanged were earlier tonight. And you started it. You told him you were out to dinner with someone else. Just to get a rise out of your ex. It obviously worked.
That's okay, he figures, opening the menu and blocking your ex's number. If there's one person he does want to know about this, it's that arsehole. Maybe now he'll stay away from you.
You sit up. "Kyle?"
His eyes meet yours, steady and unwavering. "Yeah?"
"Were you serious?"
"I was."
"Even about coming over again?"
"I mean every word I say.” He hands your phone back to you and begins to get dressed.
You watch him, grasping the edge of the table. "When will you be back?"
"My squad leaves on assignment tomorrow. Don't know how long it'll be." He zips up and grabs his t-shirt. "I'll text you."
"Right, right." You suppress a sigh. "Always got a job to do."
He slings his coat over his shoulder, then pauses. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help but reach his hand out to your cheek. He runs the back of his finger over your jawline. Then he disguises the tender gesture by gripping your chin and pulling it up so you're looking him in the eye.
"Behave," he tells you, voice low. "No sleeping around. No flirting of any kind. Is that clear?"
Your heart pounds. You swallow and nod.
"Good," he says, holding your gaze a moment longer.
As he leaves, closing the door behind him, he curses himself.
This is not a good idea. What's he trying to do, fix you? Stupid, stupid, stupid. This isn't going to end well. You're not good for him. But damn if he doesn't feel more satisfied than he has in years.
He has no choice. If he wants you to behave, he'll have to keep your eyes on him. Whether he’s on base or not.
...
part 1 / [part 2]
more Gaz / masterlist tag
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chaosandmarigolds · 2 days
Text
Among the Bullets
Chapter 2 Part 2
Summary: You're a transfer mechanic for a task force which you know nothing about, and while trying to figure out your standing with each of the members you begin to realize you may be over your head. (Evental romance, He just sucks at flirting, but he is trying bear with meee)
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Warnings?: jealousy? Body descriptions, nothing really.
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 With a defeated huff you set the tablet down, leaning back in the chair was that was worse for wear. The light from the screen being the only real light source of the room, the hours of searching for a file you knew would be under the most secure of networks left you with a file that was more crossed out than not. A file you, of all people, should have access to. Yet perhaps the other people that was on that team thought not, and some part of you agreed with that.
After anothe few hours toying away in the hangar you had told yourself it was high time for an actual break, so you had gone to the mess hall, spending the thirty minutes pulling apart what you thought was a roll and reading over the briefing file for the up coming operation. Seemed easy enough, although there were a few things that were crossed out, so you assumed that was on a need to know basis. Even with all of the black ink covering the words in the upcoming operation, it didn’t hold a light to the scribbled out words of the past- a past you were now trying to uncover for your sake of mind. 
The way that the captain had referenced this, that mission, as if he knew the details you hadn’t been given until you had blood on your hands- he had information you wouldn’t ever be given. And you had been there. You were stay on the slow moving fan above you, mind whirling with questions you had buried deep down, just as you were about to doze off into a light slumber a knock came to the door, heavy set of hands yet a soft knock- enough to startle you
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“Hi!” 
 You blink to the change of light and see the kind looking girl in front of you, bit taller, holding a duffle bag like the one they had given you in her clutch. Her blonde hair neatly slicked back into a bun and her eyes giddy if not fatigued. When you see her you give her a little smile, “Can I help you?” Maybe that was a bit rude but she didn’t seem taken back by it. 
  “Um, the- the guy with the mask- like the halloween one?- He said I’ll be sleeping here.”
Oh. A roommate. Lovely. While you try to hide your ghost of a smile from her words while speaking about the lieutantle you look her up and down, clean clothes, ironed even, white blouse tucked into a clean pair of khakis, black riding boots. She…if it was able to say, was the exact opposite of you.  With a few moments you nod and open the door some more, rubbing your eyes. 
“You must be the mechanical engineer for the operation, I’m chemical engineering” She chirps in response and looks around, setting her bag on the sofa, which would be your bed as you would insist she take the actual bunk. Being a scientist would explain a lot of things, such as her apparence. To that you hum, and she noticed your uneasy expression from the doorway, “Louise. My name is Doctor Lousie Johnson.” ‘
“You actually say doctor?” That was what you said, which was most likely not the best thing to say but it was you had. Sure, techimcally you ahd your doctorate degree, but the idea of introducing yourself like that made you cringe. So as the silence crept, you shrugged, introducing yourself with a shake of the hand, “And technically I’m a mechanic for the operation.”
Louise tilted her head, carefully taking out the tablet she had been given, her touch delicate, “Ah. Well in the briefing document they said engineer.” Her eyes lit up as she looks back up to you, “Oh! On that note can I have access to your notes on-” 
  “Eh, Tink-” 
You spin on your heels as you hear the scotts voice interrupting your thoughts and the words Lousise was speaking, looking at him as he was half knocking on the door. He flashes a smile to Lousie, and then looks back to you, “Goin to the bar with Si and Kyle, you’re comin.” 
With a frown you retort, “I try not to drink the night before I have something important to do.” 
“Nows the bes time to drink,” He frowns to that, his eyebrows furrowing, “Si said to drag ya if needed, so gimme y’er arm.” 
  You tilt your head with an exasperated look and turn your head as Louise bites back a little laugh, the woman quieting as you give her a glare, her hand clasped over her mouth and eyes scrunched up in laughter. Without missing a beat you look back to the man, “I’m not going to the bar, Sergeant.” 
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 You sit in the booth, sipping the shirley temple as you read over the document for the thousanth time. It wasn’t anything special, the group was mostly sitting at the bar, chatting away with the doctor- who was aptly very quickly nicknamed ‘Doc’ You didn’t quite care for bars, however everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves- at least everyone expect for the Lieutentant, who somewhat mimicked your own posture but at the bar top. It wasn’t as if you were paying attention though, because that would be crazy, why on earth would you be watching- 
  About seventy percent of your attention was on the group you had isolated yourself from, how they laughed, how Lousie just clicked. It was idootic, you would most likely never see these men again in your life, nor her, after this operation, yet here you were feeling some sort of elementary school rejection. You were on a job, you were getting paid a decent chunk of money for this, and not to mention there were about a billion other factors which motivated your actions. With another sip of the drink you look away and to your tablet again, wiping off the oil smudge you had been too lazy to care about till then. 
  “Ya know its not safe for a lady to be out here alone,” a voice snapped you out of your trance, yet ther voice had no real body, you figured out it was coming from the person one booth over. 
  A quick glance back to the group, who were laughing with their backs to you, you bring your lips to your drink, speaking slowly and hushed, “You can say Hi like a normal person, Jack.” 
 A gruff laugh, and while you can’t see his face the rain covered grey hoodie was enough to confirm it was him- after all, you bought him that hoodie a few moments go by and you can hear him take a long swig of what you would guess was rum, “They want an update.” 
A long silence and you take a breath, hands looping around the glass as you think, “Can’t give them one yet, they haven’t told me anything…important, no location, time, nothing, they told me to be ready for anything and to dress warm.” You look around and then clear your throat, “They did ask if I was comfortable with 4320s.” 
“The tracktor?” He almost aughed, and for a spilt second you could almost see his smile before you replied. 
“Urals 4320s, dumbass.” You snipped back playfully, and look down to your glass, getting lost in thought for the millionth of a second, and when you looked up you noticed the luetiant looking at you, eyes narrowed, with a wary gulp you wave. 
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Somehow, you had been given the task of dragging the ‘somewhat’ buzzed doctor back to your room, with a arm under her, aggravatingly small, torso you lead her through the hangar. Listening to the ‘buzzed’ words as she spoke, now, you wouldn’t lie- she seemed like a sweet girl, kind, and very smart in her field- if not a bit dense socially, most likely the only thing you both had in common. Yet there was something that rubbed you the wrong way, and perhaps it was your one jealousy. 
   She was what your parents wanted for you, perfect hair, perfect body, clothes, smile, eyes, makeup, all of it, she reeked of perfection. The worst part was that you couldn’t be upset at her for it, she was too kind. “I think- I think they’re nice.” 
   “Mmmhm,” You nod slowly as you kick the door to the room open, and that had been your go to response to anything the woman had to say, a quick mmhm and a nod, or maybe just a little lifeless laugh that would trigger her own chaotic giggles. Now, this was technically a task you had taken upon yourself, the boys had offered and you knew deep down they wouldn’t have done anything- but the ‘girl code’ was ingrained into your blood. So, with a roll of the eyes you took her back to the room, which now left you there.
     “The scary one is-is funny,” She stumbles out as you sit her down on the bunk, a hand on the top of the head to keep her from hitting her head, her eyes going over your emotionless expression, and she hums, “But he was looking at you.” 
   “You’re drunk, shut up.” You snip and then kneel down, taking off the boots with tough pulls which would get you a grumble and a scold, that you couldn’t care enough about. It took about ten minutes of standing by the bed and shoving her back down before she finally relented and stayed down, so you hum once she was out. So you push yourself up to stand, walking over to the desk, grabbing your bag and pulling out the tablet. 
The faint light in the bottom of it catching your eye, so you frown and grab the flip phone, double checking the door was locked as you lean against it, looking over the message. 
   Mission is in Poland- dress warm. Be safe. 
The contact name stung in your mind, Jackson. Unshokcing that they would have him be your contact, nonetheless, made your blood run cold every time you thought of him, much less when you spoke to him less than two hours before. 
     You too, okay?
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 You stood outside the office for a solid few moments after you knocked before you heard the voice telling you to come in, and just as you remembered it was dimly lit, and the harsh smell of the smoke hung in the air. With an exaggerated clear of the throat you look to the captain, “Good morning, Sir.” 
     He motions for you to sit down, which you dismiss the offer with a shake of the head, “What do I owe the pleasure?” 
     “I have a few questions.”
The man seemed to almost expect this and he nods, “About the doctor.” 
   “Why a chemical engineer? From my experience-” 
“This isn’t about your experience. You were chosen for this operation, that should tell you everything you need to know, solider.” 
You stare at the captain for a long moment, the words rubbing you the wrong way, they way he was relaxed making your blood boil,  “I am not a solider. I will never be a solider and I will not be treated as such, I am consult and I demand some information on this operation aside from the vests I will be wearing and the truck I am expected to ride on. A chemical engineer and a mechanical one all in one op leads me to the assumption that is like operation that was lead on March 20th 2018 and I will need that information if you expect me to proceed.” 
Price stayed quiet as you spoke, seeming to take your words with a shaker of salt, which he prayed you would be thankful for, “You have all the information you need, as does Doctor Johnson.” 
   With a scoff you go on, “With all due repsect-”
“That will be all.” He interrupted you, his gaze hard and he holds out his arm for the door, “You are dismissed.” 
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  “Did you get an’ sleep?” 
The voice snapped you out of your train of thought, zipping up your bag and you look up to the lieutant, giving him a brief laugh. Maybe to ease your own nerves, sure everything you were about to do made your blood run cold but the sight of a man who might as well just be a ghost at that point seemed to do nothing for them. He lived up to the callsign. It was four hours before you would go on the transport, for the operation to actually begin, and you were getting all of the things you thought you would need- however they didn’t tell you what you would need, so you were going in blind. 
   “Enough, sir.” You respond with an equally amount of lackluster. 
He looked you up and down, the uniform they had given you to wear was ironed and clean- unlike what you would normally wear. “You’ll be fine, yeah?” 
    With a quick glance up to him you hum, and you look around, eyes landing on Lousie as she chatted up Johnny and Kyle and you look to the Lieutant, “With all due respect I need to know why we need a chemist. I need to know what I’m walking into.” It wasn’t meant to sound so harsh, but the words spilled out and it was much too late to turn back. “Last time I had a chemist on my op-” 
    “Take it up with the Captain.” 
“I tried. He didn’t give me a straight answer.”
    The lieutenant looked down at you, the mask seeming a bit more intimidating up close, the black paint smuged around his eyes and the thread he used seeming to be tight to the cloth. He seemed to be mentally debating something, ot jdudging you, you couldn’t figure out which, and you didn’t quite want to. So with a grunt he picked up your bag without warning and began to walk to the transport. 
   “Hey???” You yell after him, a bit more confused than anything, catching the attention of the rest of the group from the other side of the hangar, “Thats mine?!”
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Annnnyway that’s it! <33 comments and all that jazz mean a lot to me!!
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eydi-andrius · 3 days
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What Must It Be Like?
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pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Reader
a/n: just a drabble. im so sorry
How can someone be that pretty and at the same time, be totally unaware of it?
You probably have asked this question a million times since the first time you have landed your eyes at him. But you still keep asking this yourself as you watch Aemond interact with the guests and smile dashingly in this party.
His movements are fluid as he walks past the throng of people. His natural charismatic smile enchants not only the ladies and missus, but also their husbands. He led conversations and won their favors. Yet, he claimed himself as unworthy. Of course, God wouldn't create someone so perfect with everything.
You felt the heat run through your cheeks and through your ears when your eyes caught Aemond’s and he suddenly excused himself to Senator Waters before sauntering over to where you're standing.
Your heartbeat was loud, as if wanting to jump out of your chest, the closer he gets and you get a closer look of his slicked back silver hair, pouty lips, strong jaw, and beautiful lilac eyes, which reflects your face, as he looks straight at you.
There is no way someone such as him would look your way and choose you.
“Have you seen my mother? Aegon?” He asked. His brows glistened with sweat. The venue was hot with bright lights and people, it was normal. But god, was he beautiful?
“Oh! Yeah! Yeah! Ummh…Aegon was in that VIP room being scolded by Senator Alicient right now. I think he drank a little too much….again.” You grimaced when you pointed to the room he was held in temporarily. Almost mumbling the word “again”, embarrassed that you have to be the person to inform Aemond of his older brother’s escapade….. again.
Aegon was caught being handsy with a model, in an event hosted by her mother, to gain votes and favor for the next election. You’re just glad he was caught early or else, another scandal would break out, possibly destroying her mother’s already delicate image, just for being a woman in power and position.
You watched as Aemond put his right hand on his temple, massaging his head for comfort, as he whispered words, you can barely hear. By the looks of it, you can tell it was just curse words targeted towards Aegon’s stupidity.
“Please take care of everything for now while I’ll call my mother so she can focus on the event. I’ll deal with Aegon.” He sighed exasperated before he put his hand on your shoulder and squeezed it. It was such an innocent gesture, but to you, it feels heavenly.
Not trusting your words, you nodded, smiling. And when he smiled back, you almost lost it but kept your cool as you watched him walk towards the area you pointed earlier. You bit your tongue, trying to stop yourself from screaming with joy.
“You can flirt and I can't? How's that fair?” Aegon voiced his protest, the moment their mother went out and closed the door.
Aemond stops himself from rolling his eyes. After that scolding, it seems like he learned nothing. How can someone older act so childish, like a six year old in a formal event? His face is flushed so reasoning with him would be useless.
“I see, so despite being scolded, you still choose not to listen.”
“Nah. I just saw a glimpse of it before mother closed the door completely. God! You're hopeless!” Chuckling, he flopped on the nearest couch, and wiggled his way to comfort. His tux is now crumpled and a mess. Probably the reason why he was told not to leave until the event ends. There's too many eyes outside.
She’s smart, pretty and loyal. How can he imagine a life with her by his side? He is unworthy. He will just ruin her.
“Damn, for someone as perfect as you, the perfect son, you look like you could use a wine or two?”
“And what? Become an alcoholic like you?” He retorted.
“Damn, you’ll hurt my feelings, you know.” He said as he clutched his chest, crumpling his white undershirt further.
Sighing, he walked towards the pitcher and fetched his older brother a cup of water. His brow furrowed and lip on a thin line as he cannot imagine that she would choose him over those bachelors outside, who were far better than him.
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moodymisty · 23 hours
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Fulgrim being gossipy about another primarch’s beloved is soooo funny to me, cause didn’t he canonically stop dating people because they’d die and leave him heartbroken? You’re not slick Fulgrim “living vicariously through his brother’s relationships” The Phoenician, we can all see what you’re up to 😂
I never thought of it this way but you're so right, he totally lives vicariously through their relationship so he doesn't have to experience the inevitable sadness of being a near immortal being. Fulgrim seems to be the type that falls hard and fast, I'm sure that would hurt his heart. also
Fulgrim: You're telling me you're getting married and I wasn't consulted on any of this?
Vulkan: Brother, I appreciate your concern but you aren't the one getting marrie-
Fulgrim: I MATTER TOO YOU KNOW
And whenever one of the other primarchs gets a beloved and he hears of it Fulgrim is like
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homelanderbutbig · 23 hours
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A Quaint House With a White-Picket Fence (G/T Homelander x Reader)
1139 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.
You teach Homelander about Animal Crossing.
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With a rare day off, you decided to spend your afternoon doing something you haven't been able to for a while, play Animal Crossing. Homelander has never played a video game before, and he has made it perfectly clear to you that he has zero interest in doing so. He is also not shy at showing his jealousy at how engrossed you get playing your silly games instead of paying attention to him. As a result, you usually only play for short periods of time when you're alone.
Today was different. You have been doing nothing all day except play Animal Crossing, just like you used to do before moving into the Tower. You don't even hear him storming into the penthouse, in one of his signature grumpy moods. Grumbling irritatedly seeing you lounging on the couch, he can't believe you aren't acknowledging him and inviting him over for a cuddle like you always do. It's not like he's easy to miss.
Homelander walks over in front of the couch, attempting to make a point with his purposefully loud footsteps. And yet, you still don't even look up as he looms over you. Rolling his eyes, he places his hands on his hips as he taps his fingers on his belt. He can feel his anger bubbling to the surface, with the annoying little beeps and boops coming from the game only serving to aggravate him further.
Finally, he's had enough at watching you ignore him. With a motion so fast you barely even register what is happening, he picks you up so he can lie down on the couch, keeping you on top of him. His arms are wrapped immovably around your waist while his big head is snuggled firmly on your shoulder. He lets out a deep huff from his nose, making certain that you know how exasperated you've made him.
You stay there for a moment of tense silence, waiting for him to say something first. You feel bad for not even noticing him, but you want to see where he is mentally before you make a move.
"What is this?" he eventually asks you, contempt dripping from his voice. If you won't stop playing this dumb thing, he may as well learn what it is.
"Animal Crossing," you tell him, laughing as you practically feel him rolling his eyes. Ah, he's in one of these moods.
"It's a game where you get to play in this cute village and just do whatever," you try to clarify. "You can fish, catch bugs, decorate your house, and make friends with your neighbours. It's relaxing."
"…Why?" he retorts. He is baffled at how doing things in this game that you could do in real-life would have you so fixated.
"I dunno, it's hard to explain," you respond. "There's no stress in this world, no time-limits or deadlines. It's like… an escape."
Homelander is hushed as he contemplates your answer. The appeal still doesn't make a lot of sense to him.
"What… are you playing as?" he enquires, brow furrowing slightly. Your tiny avatar appears to be a boy with slicked-back blonde hair, wearing a blue shirt with an eagle design.
"I tried making you," you answer honestly, with a brief giggle. You click a mysterious button on your gaming device, and suddenly this character is smiling wide back at him.
"You… made me?" he ponders, rubbing his head into the nape of your neck.
"Yeah, I normally just make myself but… I wanted to see how you'd look too," you smile, returning his nuzzle. "You turned out cute, right?"
He sighs, not dignifying you with a response. This facsimile is nowhere near his level of perfection, but at least you tried.
"What's that noise?" he mumbles. "It sounds like a bug."
"What direction is it coming from?" you respond. "It might be a mole cricket, I haven't caught one of those yet."
"To the left," he guides you, using his super hearing to easily discern the origin of the bug's droning call. "Under that rock."
Homelander watches as you pull out your shovel and hit the rock, causing a cricket to pop out which you swiftly catch with your net.
"Look at that! We caught a mole cricket!" you exclaim.
"…Now what?" he queries. He doesn't understand why you seem to excited over this, it's just a disgusting, insignificant insect.
"Now we take it to the museum, so Blathers can put it on display," you reply.
"And what, we get a reward for it?" he asks.
"No, it's just for fun!" you attempt to explain. "We can get a golden net if we catch all the different kinds of bugs though!"
Once again, he feels flabbergasted by your reasonings. This is just one of those weird human things of yours that he figures he will never understand, no matter how many questions he asks.
Homelander decides to stay quiet for a while, simply observing as you go about your activities. Seeing you run around this confined space, pointlessly catching more bugs and fish. Listening to you tell him which animal villagers are your favourites, showing him your house and how you decorated every room.
Strangely, the longer he watches you play, the more relaxed he starts to feel. It's weird, seeing your miniature caricature of him running around this fake town. He's just spending his days trapped in this virtual world, living in a quaint house with a white-picket fence, surrounded by friendly neighbours… without anybody staring at him like he's a freak… without a care in the world.
He's living the life Homelander always wished he could.
"Do you think we could ever live in a place like this?" he contemplates in a somber voice. The genuineness of his thought takes you by surprise.
To be honest, you don't have an answer for him. Vought has such a tight grip on every aspect of his life, you aren't sure if he'll ever be able to be free of their influence. He's never known what it's like to be 'normal', his entire existence has been dictated for him, his every opinion pre-calculated for what's best for the company.
"Hey, why don't we spend the weekend at your cabin?" you suggest, trying to pivot the heavy conversation away to something more tangible. You put your game down to caress his cheek, feeling him angle his head into your touch. "Just the two of us, no schedules or worries."
You can feel a little smile spread across your shoulder at your proposal. Homelander tightens his hold on you ever so slightly, cherishing the feeling of your small stature in his arms. He's glad you aren't able to see his face right now, letting him hide the fact that he's blinking away forming tears.
"Yeah," he whispers. "I'd like that".
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taurusgoddess99 · 2 days
Text
Frustration
Felix Catton x f! Reader
MDNI
AN: Hi! It’s been so long since I’ve posted on Tumblr that I’ve forgotten how! I hope y’all enjoy this piece that I’ve word it. It’s smutty. Also, I’m posting on tumblr so I’m sure it’ll be sorta wonky. Thanks!
TW: light choking
His bed creaks up under his weight and he notices that she's barely visible from under his sheets.
He eyes the naked skin of her exposed back, and the stretch marks that covered her hips. The bralette barely contained her full tits and he was frustrated that she wouldn't let him touch.
He crawled on top of her, her ass pressed against his dick, and he groaned into the soft skin of her neck.
“Why can't we fuck again?”
“I don't feel like it.”
It's muffled by the sheets. He groans in frustration before nipping at her neck. She says something that he can't hear, and he pulls on the straps of her bralette. Her head pops up from under the sheets and she shoots him a glare.
“I'm not having sex with you.”
“Why not?”
He hates how whiny he sounds but he continues with his motions. His nose nudges against her shoulder.
“Go away.”
“We're in my house.”
His fingers hooks into her black shorts pulling down the soft fabric. He grins when he sees the bright yellow thong that's tucked neatly between her full ass cheeks.
“I'll eat your pussy.”
“No.”
“I'll eat your ass.”
“You're a pervert.”
He slides his finger down her ass cheeks before pulling at the flimsy thing. She shifts and groans feeling frustrated with Felix and his insatiable appetite. She had came upstairs to nap after lounging by the pool most of the day, and Felix had followed.
“I’m your pervert.”
He flips her over and grins at her. She stares up at him just taking in his big brown doe eyes wondering how she ended up with him in the first place.
“Why don’t you go find, Ollie? I’m sure he’d love to take my place.”
His eyes traced over the swells of her full breast. One of her nipples peaked out at him over her bralette and he couldn’t resist himself. He leaned down and kissed the hardened peak. His tongue lapping over it as he maintained eye contact with her. Her body seemed to go limp under him and he knew he had won.
He always won.
He is Felix Catton after all.
Her fingers tangle in his hair that’s still wet from the pool. His large hands unclapse the little bralette and he pulls away from her supple breast to pull it off of her.
Felix takes over her mind, her body, and everything else. She couldn’t remember what her life was like before Felix. Her thumb rubs his cheek as they make eye contact. The words bubbles up her throat threatening to spill but they can’t come out. Not yet anyway.
Her whole life is Felix Catton.
He knows it.
His lips brushes over her collarbone. His nose trails up her jawline before meeting with hers. Her breath quickens and he swears he can hear her heart beating. Her heart beats for him.
He opens his lips to say something. Anything, but nothing comes out. Their lips collide in a quick peck. His wet locks drag against her forehead and causes her to giggle. It’s a sound that he loves to hear. He could pick out her giggle in a crowd of a million.
“I thought you weren’t going to fuck me?”
“Shut up.”
“Why would I go for Oliver when I have the prettiest girl here with me?”
His hands travel down her body, hooking into her little shorts and pulling them off and the thong. He makes a mental note to keep them for himself. He could never get enough of her.
The lips meet for another kiss. He licks into her mouth and can taste the fresh fruit that she had earlier. The taste of his last cigarette coats her tongue. Her leg wraps around his waist and he grinds against her.
He breaks away from their kiss, his hand grips her thigh and presses it against her chest. She’s already slick and ready from their previous activities. He groans at the thought of her full of his cum again. He couldn’t decide if he liked seeing her swallowing it or seeing it dripping out of her better.
Her brow is furrowed and her arms wrap loosely around Felix’s broad shoulder. He nips at her collarbone. She lazily scratches his scalp and it send shivers down his spine.
He’s rutting against her at a faster pace now. His cock presses against her sensitive clit with each thrust. The tip of his cock presses against her entrance. He brings his hand up to her neck and his hand linger there lightly squeezing. He forces her to look at him. She’s laying beneath him, completely dependent on, and her eyes flutter from the pleasure of it all.
“I love you.”
He sinks into her fluttering hole and her eyes widen with the realization of his words and with how full she felt again. She hadn’t realized how empty she felt when Felix wasn’t fucking her. She felt empty when Felix wasn’t with her now that she thinks about her.
Her mouth open and shuts and her bottom lip quivers.
“I love you, Fe’.”
He gives her a lazy smile and presses his forehead against hers. She’s so full of him. His cock is so big and is stretching her out to the max and she can’t escape from Felix Catton. She’s all his.
Felix starts up at a fast pace. The desperation behind his thrust pushes her up the bed. He eyes her full breast as they bounce with the movement of his hips.
She realizes at that moment that they were always connected. They were always meant to be one.
She kisses him desperately, messily, and she’s lost in him. She feels like she’s flying and drowning at the same time. His hipbone nudges her clit and she feels like she could cry.
Her back is arched, both legs are wrapped around his waist, and her fingers are scratching at his shoulders.
His hands move down to cup her thighs again. He squeezes them like his life depends on it and she knows that it’ll be bruises coloring them later. Just like he’ll have the marks of her fingernails on his shoulder.
He pulls her closer and their eyes meet. His cheeks are red and his eyes are dark. His releases one of her thighs to push his fingers into her mouth to get them wet.
His hand slides down between their naked bodies and swipes at her clit. With a yelp of his name, she cums all over his cock, and jumpstarts his own orgasm.
His hips stutter before he forces himself even deeper and coats her wall with his cum. He holds himself there until he’s sure he’s all spent before collapsing on top of her. He rubs his face in her cleavage as they both lay there. She rubs the back of his neck and twitches with the aftershocks that rock her body.
“I really do love you, Felix.”
He kisses her nipple and looks up at her through his eyelashes.
“I love you too, princess.”
The two fall asleep in the post-orgasm fog not noticing the company that they had that was watching them through the door.
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betweenbreaths · 1 day
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95. Quiet, baby, the others will hear.
Fandom: Love and Deepspace
Characters: Rafayel x Reader
Rating: E / 18+
A/N: Working off this list of r18 prompts for practice; am open to requests for this fandom as well. ;)
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Sometimes, you think, Rafayel is an incorrigible, shameless and irredeemable asshole of the highest order.
And then there are days when you realise that he's so, so much worse than that.
You're at his latest art exhibition, and guests are bustling about. Their murmurs are loud enough that you can hear various buzzwords that the more pretentious visitors tend to use when they want to sound smart and knowledgeable about Rafayel's art. There are also quiet gasps by people enthralled by the ethereal paintings in display.
And, in your case, there are muffled moans spilling through the crevices of your fingers from where you're hidden behind a curtain in a corner of the musuem. Beneath you is a certain fame artist renowned and admired by everyone in the hall, although in your case, he's just a brat who's intent on making life absolute hell for you.
"Quiet, baby, the others will hear."
He briefly pauses to say that infuriating statement, as if he isn't the very reason you're in this state.
You're starting to regret even coming here now; you had arrived early with a bouquet of tulips to congratulate Rafayel, only to be greeted by a distraught Thomas who couldn't find the artist anywhere. He wasn't responding to texts or calls, including yours. Worried something might have happened to him, you immediately set off in search for him. You had then gone past an empty, unused exhibit in the corner of the museum, on your way towards the exit, before you found yourself being unceremoniously yanked back by an unknown force and crashing straight into the familiar arms of a young man.
And now, here you are, struggling to stay quiet while he ravages you, tongue lapping at your drenched pussy like a parched cat.
"Thomas is looking everywhere for you," you hiss, before throwing your head back against the wall when he sucks particularly hard on your clit.
"Don't care," he says, pausing to flash a mischievous grin your way. Still, it's no respite; he continues to pump his two fingers in and out of your slick center, while his thumb periodically flicks over your sensitive nub.
"He's the reason I didn't get to see you for two weeks. And you said you'd give me any reward I asked for if I finished my paintings in time."
"Yes, but not like this! We— ohh yes... w-we can do this later!"
"You say that, but you're clenching hard around my fingers." His lips quirk up at the corners once more, and he leans in closer to your pussy, hot breath fanning over the exposed, sensitive skin. "I didn't do much and you're already so wet for me. Looks like I'm not the only one who missed this, hmm?"
"Rafayel... Ha-ah!" He dives back in, lips hungrily devouring all that you have to offer, sending spark after spark of pleasure running like electricity through your skin. You're close; so close. He knows exactly what he's doing to your body; scissoring his fingers and thrusting them deep into the spot that you love, all while he traces circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue. You start to lose yourself to the intense pleasure that he's giving you, sinking down and hips thrusting to meet the rhythmic dance of his tongue and lips.
At that moment, the sudden sound of distant applause snaps you back to reality and your eyes burst open, hand flying to cover your mouth.
"Rafayel, p-please..."
Your near inaudible protests fall on deaf ears. If anything, Rafayel starts sucking harder, fingers thrusting harder and faster into you now. You can feel the familiar buzz of an orgasm prickling on your skin, and your body begins to tremble as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge with each passing second. Your muffled moans begin to crescendo in time with your building pleasure, fingers finding purchase in his soft, wavy hair. Perhaps it's for support, or maybe it's to pull him closer, to fuck yourself on his face and to satisfy both his and your thirst after two long weeks of pining for and missing each other.
"Come for me," he murmurs against your clit, moaning and rolling the bright pink nub between his teeth and tongue like it's the sweetest candy that he's ever tasted.
It doesn't take much more for you to find your release. You come apart, back arching of the wall with your head thrown back while your lips part in a silent scream of his name.
Even then, Rafayel, being the ruthless man he is, doesn't let you go. He continues to suck and lap at you, seeking every last drop of your release from your body. He drinks it all up greedily and when you're finally settled down from your orgasmic high, he releases you, a string of your cum connecting his lips to your kiss-swollen cunt.
"Rafayel..." you breathe out, and when your eyes meet, you just know that he's not anywhere near finished with you yet.
He stands, lanky figure towering over you, and in the next moment, you find yourself being spun around to face the wall. Your hands plant themselves on the cool, hard surface in front of you to reflexively stop yourself from falling face-first into it, and they are promptly covered by his larger ones.
And then you hear his voice, low and silky by your ear. The fiery heat in his breath against your skin makes you shiver in anticipation once more.
"I know it's going to be difficult, but let's try to stay quiet for a while more, okay?"
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ahem. dear Sally,
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I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE
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gayofthefae · 1 month
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If they can do this
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Then this is 100% purposeful
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They had to reposition the camera to keep Will in the shot. They did it.
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alexkablob · 5 months
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Other favorite bits from the Dorley reread: Lorna's Paranormal Investigator Arc™
#tfw you're the only normal trans girl in a story about a forcefem kidnapping ring#and you're dating your ''cis'' girlfriend who gets you hormones ''from the internet''#and slowly noticing how there's things she's not telling you and how her and her friend group are all weird about the same things#and then one day your girlfriend's equally cis friend is tired and distracted and asks your girlfriend if she can use some of her ''pills''#and they both briefly freeze and then awkwardly smooth the interaction over but you KNOW#your whole social circle is trans people you go to trans rights rallies on the regular you KNOW that social interaction#you know this cis girl just asked your cis girlfriend if she could borrow some of her estrogen and what the FUCK#and all the little things are adding up and you start digging and they're all connected to this one dorm on campus--#and IS MY GIRLFRIEND IN A CULT???#WHAT IS HAPPENING#you're infiltrating this incredibly foreboding institution and all these girls are smiling too evenly at you and trying to steer you away#and IS THIS THE STEPFORD WIVES??? ARE THEY GOING TO HUMAN SACRIFICE ME??? WHAT IS GOING ON#because that's what Dorley is like looking in from the outside#and then all the while you see from the other PoVs what she's up against:#just the stupidest most neurotic group of codependent trans girls who are flailing rapidly in a comedy of errors#trying to figure out how to tell you the truth without you freaking out#or without it sounding stupid as hell#they're so fucking stupid Lorna I cannot emphasize enough what a pack of idiots these girls are it is NOT a slick operation#dorleyposting
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sukunasweetheart · 3 months
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oh, to fit him like a glove...
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WARNINGS; ooc sukuna, virgin!reader (well... not for long), size kink, BREEDING, vaginal fingering, sukuna only has one dick here cuz i wanted to make it less complicated, COCKWARMING, stomach bulge, degradation, praise, sukuna is a four armed king, overstimulation, mouth-hands, EXCESSIVE CUM
based on this anon's ask! dividers credit; @/cafekitsune
word count; 3k
imagine being sukuna's precious princess of a wife-- whom he spoils and dotes on because its in his interests to do so. like any other woman, youre tiny compared to him, so having you take his cock eventually will be very tedious work, and sukuna will need a lot of patience.
and we all know, sukuna is the most patient man in the world... at least when it means that it'll be worth it for him at the end. and to him, you are worth everything.
he's proud and pleased to be your first... sukuna can't help but feel keen about the idea that he will be the only one ever to have had the pleasure of being so intimate with you.
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he watches you intently, as you struggle to take even two of his thick fingers in your tight hole, tearing up and whimpering as he tampers with those delicate spots inside you.
"nngh.. sukuna... that feels so good..." you whimper his name delightfully, it almost makes his enduring patience snap.
outwardly, his face looks calm as he looks down at you with soft lust that takes the form of an almost blank expression.
"does it?" he asks, with a certain playfulness in his voice.
his fingers move a little faster, scissoring you inside and pressing in an upwards manner, where it makes you gasp the most. you're producing so much slick, but your hole is still so tight and unrelenting, clenching around his thick digits even more. sukuna thinks about good it'd feel if his dick was inside instead, and he feels himself aching with desire, twitching and leaking precum from his hidden erection.
...not yet.
he dutifully touches you to your orgasm, and watches with a hitched breath as you tremble on his fingers, walls fluttering against them. your sighs and soft moans reach his ears like nothing else.
his extra hands grope at your breasts, finding solace in them.
"do you think i'm ready yet?" you ask tenderly, after your breath returns to normal.
"... hardly, my love. that was only two of my fingers," sukuna tells you languidly, as he feeds your slick on his digits to the mouth on his stomach.
"only two? oh dear..." you sigh with sorrow, "will i ever be able to take you whole one day?"
he smirks at the question, and leans down into your chest while holding ahold of your hand.
"well of course. i'll make it happen no matter what. i promise."
the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.
when it does happen, you best be ready for him to breed you full every night.
however, on some days, the urge gets unbearable, even for himself. he's been saving himself up a little, so he could pour everything inside you when the time comes, but the lust gets overwhelming, clouding his sight and judgement.
one night, you gesture towards the bulge in his pants, with a shaking hand.
"what about you? isn't it painful to always withhold yourself like that?" you ask, wanting for him to feel good as well, instead of just yourself.
sukuna grows silent, sweating bullets as his dick throbs upon your mention of it.
the next minute, he's taking it out and slotting it between your thighs, rubbing up against your slit and seeing how the size compares to your stomach.
the temptation is too great.
not. yet.
this was the whole reason he was avoiding using his cock with your body in the first place - because he was afraid he'd cave in and attempt to deflower you when you weren't ready yet, still too tight for him to squeeze in, causing you pain only.
if it were anyone else, he wouldn't bother... but you're one that he cherishes too much... he wants to work to make the end result even tastier. the moment where he'll finally claim you entirely.
the bed creaks as he thrusts in and out between your thighs, rubbing his twitching dick against your hole oozing with slick, also brushing up onto your clit that's swollen from arousal.
" 'm sorry... i wish... there was more i could do..." you whimper sweetly, squeezing one of his large hands.
"there's no need for that. whatever i can't put inside you now... i'll pump in twice as much, once you're ready for me," sukuna whispers gently, holding your hand back, a groan resounding in the back of his throat.
rewards become so much sweeter after restraint. like how you wouldn't pick and eat an unripe fruit from a tree.
"you're doing plenty enough for me... for now," he tells you breathlessly. he adores the glossy look in your eyes.
his cock continues to glide back and forth, and he feels so hot between your thighs.
"i... i want your tip inside when you cum, please," you say, eyeing his dick with a certain neediness.
"are you sure, love?" he asks, hoping you'll say yes. you nod fervently.
sukuna feels lightheaded at the thought of it, all the while his dick gets more and more sensitive against your thighs... his balls feel so heavy and full, all those times he held himself back coming to catch up on him.
you squeeze your legs around him harder, making him groan, cock pulsing for all it's worth. he thinks about how tightly your walls would clamp around him. the heat from your insides, and your slick covering his shaft. he's close.
he suddenly spreads your legs.
at this stage, he's only barely able to get his tip past your entrance. it's possible when he does it slowly enough. you whine beneath him, doing your best to not go against his arms that are pinning your legs down.
a drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face. sukuna uses an extra hand to stroke the rest of his dick as his tip remains snug inside your puckering hole. when it comes, he gives a choked-off gasp from how good his first-in-a-while release feels.
he has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from burying himself any further.
the ropes of cum seep and trickle into your womb in thick, heavy spurts, and the hotness of it gets you breathing unevenly, being so aroused by this sensation. there's a copious amount. he continues jerking himself off to get every last droplet out, and his own hand can feel the intense twitches of the veins on his erection.
it's not nearly enough to satisfy him, but it's enough to keep him patient.
once his tip pops out from your wet hole again, his spend come out of it in large globs, and sukuna can't help but admire the sight, his dick twitching weakly in his hand.
he abstains from cumming all over again for another few weeks- another few weeks of stretching you out with his fingers, and prepping you to perfection.
when the day finally creeps up, where he believes you're ready to take him whole, sukuna hears and feels his heartbeat in his own ears.
ever so slowly. he's sitting down on the edge of the bed, and he has you lower yourself on his throbbing cock as he's face to face with you, ever so slowly. your body trembles lightly and he feels it on his hands and fingers as they're placed against your hips. sukuna senses your anxiousness that flows from you in large waves.
your hole is so tight, trying to push the intrusion out, but the wetness from your slick helps his cock slip inside easier, and sukuna's breath is kept within the back of his throat as you swallow him up deeper and deeper.
he's sweating. you're sweating. but soon enough, you're sat on his lap completely, having gotten all of him inside you at last. you can barely breathe with how tightly you enclose around him. how his cock is nudged up snugly against your cervix, pushing the literal air out of your lungs. and the way you feel it twitching inside.
sukuna has never been more patient, more self disciplined, more repressed than in this moment. one wrong movement and he feels like he could snap and start thrusting in without concern for you in any moment. no. he shouldn't do that. it would ruin all everything he's done to build you up for this moment.. but your walls keep tauntingly squeezing around him...
"i- i can finally fit all of you inside..." you say with glee, tears on your lashes, but looking very proud of yourself. it snaps him back to sanity, a little bit.
"of course... you were made for me, after all. so perfectly mine, fitting me like a glove," sukuna mumbles, as his bigger tongue licks against your clit, arousing you more so that you could loosen up for him. his praise gets to your head and makes you feel sheepish, wanting to do more to please him. but you don't think you can do that, just yet.
"can we stay like this for a bit, please?"
"that would be...for the best. can't have my wife splitting in half, can i?" sukuna jests rather sinisterly.
"oh, you..." you pout at him. the larger tongue rubs against you more persistently to distract you, and he smirks as it does the trick. you whimper, and your walls pulse gently around him making him groan. your eyes get half lidded, already feeling somewhat exhausted, and you lean your face against the large man's chest.
veins are bulging out of his arms, and one on his forehead. you seem so relaxed, unbeknownst to the fact that he's currently doing everything to keep himself together. you're like a tiny mouse trapped in the claws of a tiger.
sukuna starts to bite and kiss down your neck and shoulder to satiate himself.
few minutes after you've calmed yourself a little, your eyes start wandering down, taking notice of the bump on your stomach, from having him inside you.
"it goes without saying, but you're so big..." you press against it without thinking, and you feel him throb inside you intensely. sukuna grabs your wrist with a growl.
"are you trying to test my patience right now?"
you look at him with wide eyes, from how unusually on edge he is... something about him being all restless makes you feel aroused. you're doing that to him. a man who rarely ever feels. but you've gotten him all sensitive.
" 'm sorry. kiss me?" you ask sweetly, lips curling up in a foxy way.
his gaze softens.
"when you ask me so sweetly... i can't deny you, can i?"
and he leans down to press his lips onto yours, despite seeing the mischief in your eyes. your arms go around his neck, and as he's kissing you, his hands go for your breasts.
you tighten up on his leaking dick, making him moan into your mouth. his grip on your hips squeeze harder, but he doesn't stop kissing you.
you want to make him cum. you want him to lose control from being inside you.
sukuna breaks the kiss with a little choked off heave, when you begin to roll your hips around him slightly.
"you're getting awfully ahead of yourself-"
you cut him off by latching your mouth to the side of his neck, suckling and running your tongue against his skin while your hips keep moving.
he'd call you cute, but it's working. sukuna grits his teeth and his eyes get heavy lidded, dick getting impossibly harder. his heavy breathing adds to your excitement.
"i never knew my wife was such a whore. i'll be sure to return this favour later," sukuna tells you with a low voice, his hands now guiding your hips against him.
you're wordless, as you continue running your lips and tongue up his skin, moving onto his jawline, only giving a whine in response, feeling his tip press into the entrance of your womb.
such lousy movement usually wouldn't be near enough for him, but...
his head lulls back, exposing the way his adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows thickly, getting close... your little kitten thrusts and the way you're tonguing the sensitive area under his jaw...
sukuna's hips jolt into you for the last time.
" 'm cumming-"
his mouth hangs open as he releases - dumping weeks' worth of seed into your cunt. his body jerks against you and you bite into his shoulder.
his cock throbs erotically in your clamping walls, and you milk him effortlessly, and you moan on his neck, while still suckling and tonguing the same area, feeling the hotness of his cum as it thickly pours into you, making your belly swell a bit from it.
sukuna groans as he seeds your womb properly for the first time, two hands on your hips, one against the back of your neck, and the remaining arm wrapped around your waist to keep you still as his dick pulses inside you.
your head is whirring from the tense situation, being creampied so lewdly for the first time, to think that he's released inside, and the feeling of his every breath as he orgasms, is enough to make you feel so exhilarated.
suddenly, he stills.
it makes you a little nervous, so you detach your upper body from him and aim to look at his expression. but before you can make any further movement, you're suddenly thrown onto your back against the soft mattress of the bed in the speed of light. he keeps himself buried in you, making sure to plug you up nicely.
when you meet his eyes after a shocked gasp, you see his darkened expression, his eyebrows furrowed, but his mouth curved up in a toothy, sinister grin.
"you really tested me back there, didn't you?" he rasps, grabbing your face and forcing you to keep your gaze on him.
"i hope you're aware that i'm not letting you get a wink of sleep tonight."
not a word gets out of your mouth, before sukuna pulls his dick back, and slams his hips into you, his thick cock dragging against your tight walls.
your voicebox makes a noise that you never thought was possible, a noise that's mixed with both a moan and a scream.
"oh, fuck..." sukuna mumbles gutturally, beginning to thrust in and out of you the way he's always wanted to. your hands fist the sheets behind your head, and his hands keep your legs spread apart for him, while the other two pinch at your breasts roughly, groping at your flesh so brazenly.
his heavy balls slap against your ass as his hips rut into you, making sure to drive himself in to the hilt, before pulling out to the tip and doing that all over again.
you squeal and mewl under him, eyes watering from pleasure and already getting overstimulated as he fucks you senseless. to think that only a few weeks ago, you were only able to fit two of his fingers. it all feels like a fever dream.
sukuna breathes heavily, his muscles glistening from his own sweat as he indulges in his reward, his reward of you, and your cunt that is finally nice and loose for him, sheathing him so nicely, coating his dick with your slick like the harlot you are. his laboured breaths stutter when your walls pulse around him as you reach your orgasm-- your head tilting back into the mattress.
cock leaking more precum into you, sukuna's eyes become half lidded again as he gets close to his second release.
"you're gonna drive me crazy," he grunts, as his tip reaches your cervix again and again and again.
his thrusts become erratic, and then halts as he busts another thick load into you, making you cry out pitifully.
"fuuck, fuck, fuck...." sukuna shudders, leaning down on his forearms, getting so close that you feel his breath ghosting against your skin, while his other two hands grip onto the sides of your hips. his pecs rub up into your tits and the tongue from his stomach messily laps away at your clit as he empties his balls into you, your pussy seemingly trying to squeeze him dry.
all of his eyes close up as he then kisses you like he's trying to swallow up your tongue. you whimper against his lips, doing your best to reciprocate, struggling to keep up with the pace of this kiss.
he breaks away from your lips.
"c'mon, not good enough. put your tongue into it more," he instructs breathlessly, with somewhat of a disappointed expression. your mind is too hazy from the intense lust but you give a short nod with teary eyes, which makes him smirk before pushing his lips onto you again.
you kiss him back the most you can, and he hums in pleasure, your tongue finally intertwining with his. it distracts you from how full you feel right now, even with only two of his loads in you.
his thrusts slowly start back up again.
"s-sukuna-!" you gasp, breaking the kiss.
"i warned you... it's gonna be a long night," sukuna tells you. he seems to have become more sound of mind after that second orgasm.
"give me more..." he mutters, leaning against the crook of your neck, and licking a stripe up against it, "my precious wife."
your arms wrap around his neck, holding him tight. he grins, and you feel it on your skin.
... eventually when his third load fills you up, he's running his tongue against the shell of your ear, two mouths sucking at each of your nipples, from the way he clasped his palms over your breasts at the last second.
you're trembling beneath him, tears now running down the side of your face, babbling nonsensical words at him.
sukuna leans back to run his third hand through his disheveled hair to slick it up again, and he grins at your state of overstimulation. he feels so good inside you. it was worth waiting and preparing you for so long.
once your orgasm subsides a bit, he finally detaches his mouth-hands away from your tits, making a line of saliva stretch between in the process. then, the mouths disappear. your body relaxes. but sukuna's cock is still inside you.
"you alright, my love?" he asks smugly, looking down at your state of fatigue caused by intense pleasure.
you mumble out something of a 'yes', and he chuckles. his eyes trail down to your now slightly pudgy stomach.
"you're so full with me, my dear wife. haha, it's quite the lovely sight," sukuna tells you softly, pressing his hand down softly against the swell of your tummy. you jolt a little, whining.
"sukuna... too full..."
he leans down closer to your face and wipes the sweat off your forehead, before bringing his lips to the same area gently.
"we can stay like this for a few minutes. rest up. but we're not done yet."
he hasn't even had the chance to sink his teeth into you yet. just a little more. you can do that for him, can't you?
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shotmrmiller · 2 months
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it turned to smut in seconds, i cannot control my own hands, ok. 18+ (implication of breeding kink or something and simon's a jealous boy)
ex-husband simon who signed the divorce papers without a fight. it'd stung, you're not gonna lie, but it needed to be done and the fact that he didn't make a big fuss about it made things easier for you physically. (emotionally you were in shambles because did he not even want to try and fight for you?)
he comes over only on the weekends when he's on leave.
he's a good father to his boys. he takes them to their softball games when he can, buys them the ice cream and takes them toy shopping.
and then there's a sharp knock at your door on a wednesday afternoon.
"simon?"
he walks in like he owns the place, which technically he does- even pays the mortgage because there's no way you would be able to afford living here with your own measly income.
"what's this the boys are tellin' me 'bout a man bein' in here?" his voice is calm, steady. but you know simon better than you know yourself, and he's furious.
"i- i'm not sure-" he swipes his hand in the air and your mouth clicks shut.
"don't lie t'me, poppet, or i'll be findin' him myself an' you really don't want tha'."
what man? there hasn't been any since the divorce! you're digging through your memories, scrambling to find what the hell he's talking about when-
"oh! it's the plumber!" you take steadying breath. "i called a plumber on sunday. i needed the kitchen sink fixed."
his dark eyes are piercing, so sharp they could cut. simon's always been a walking lie detector, and it's unnerving to be on the opposite end of that analyzing stare.
he nods imperceptibly, then flicks his gaze to behind you, over your head. "show me."
you scoff indignantly. "show you what? the bloody sink?"
simon wordlessly heads to the kitchen and his knees pop as he kneels-
he's actually checking the fucking sink.
with a grunt, he leans his head into the cabinet and twist awkwardly which is no doubt causing a familiar pain to flare up in his lower back. you can't help but wince in sympathy.
lo and behold, there's a shiny, white elbow in the middle of the rest of the dirty, scratched pipe.
he hums, and rises to his feet, closing the cabinet with his leg.
simon approaches you slowly, fingertips touching the kitchen island as he rounds it. "palms flat on the counter, sweetheart."
oh. oh you know exactly what that means, and your pussy throbs almost in reflex. months without his touch and your body still responds the same.
your protest already at the tip of your tongue, almost involuntarily because principles, but he sees right through you, as he's always done.
"jus' a reward for all o' your hard work. takin' care o' the boys is a stressful job all on its own." his worn hand cups the underside of your jaw tenderly. "aren't i always good t'ya?"
your exhales are weak, just like your resolve. "okay."
simon's eyes glint with satisfaction as he lifts his hand, index pointing upwards and twirls it in a slow, deliberate motion.
your palms are flat on the counter when he curls his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and knickers, tugging them downward.
they're flat on the counter when he lowers himself to his knees and taps the inside of your foot, indicating you to widen your stance.
they're curled into fists when his breath puffs against your slick cunt and his warm tongue slides through your folds, drawing lazy circles around your bud. a tingle of arousal shoots up your spine, his mouth sparking a fire right under your navel.
they're reaching for simon, nails sinking into the delicate skin of his wrist as your back bows when you come on his tongue, vision spotted with black, blurry dots and white hot ecstasy coursing through your veins.
your hands are now crossed at the base of your spine, your cheek pressing into the cool kitchen counter as he bends you over it.
"15 minutes before the boys are home from school. tha's plenty o'time, yeah?"
a rhetorical, if you've ever heard one.
your knuckles stain white as you clench your fists at the heavy, hot weight of his manhood stretching your walls to take him in, a sweet burn that you've always loved. he's gentle but sure, bottoming out in one smooth stroke that pushes the air out of your lungs. the sibilant hiss simon lets out is never fails to elicit a whimper out of you.
"fuck," he groans. "i could stay inside this pretty pussy forever."
and the dirty talk. how much you've missed it.
"would you like tha', pet? be inside of ya til you don't know where i end and you begin?"
a garbled mhm slips past your lips. your head already empty at just the sensation of being so unbearably full that it feels like you're tearing at the seams.
"another time, then, since the kids'll be home soon."
he begins to move, shallow but firm thrusts that drag his cock along your nerves deliciously- a sure fire way of getting you to climax around him in minutes.
your walls begin to squeeze down as the knot in your stomach tightens, and he lets go of your wrists, looping an arm around your waist and straightens you- his broad chest to your much smaller back.
his clever fingers wind downwards, and rub precise, little circles on your slippery clit, and it's all too much, you're hurtling toward the precipice at neck break speed- "god, simon, please-"
his pace never falters, not his hips nor his fingers as your moans begin to rise in pitch. "i'll get ya there, love."
he does, he gets you to your highest peak- blindingly intense- one that chokes the very breath out of you and slackens your knees. "i've got ya."
there's no strength left in you to brace for the spine-jarring thrusts he gives after, the only thing keeping you from sprawling forward is the arm that's looped around you as he pulls you to him.
"on anything?" he rumbles.
your ears ring at that because he can't possibly- your head shakes unbidden.
"good."
the last four thrusts are heavy, backed by his weight, and he smothers a loud groan into the junction of your shoulder as he finishes inside of you- thick, viscous cum filling you until it begins to drip and fall to the floor with an audible plop.
he presses tender little kisses to your sweaty shoulder and nips the side of your neck. "just in time."
the clock on the stove says 5 minutes before the bus gets there.
he helps you redress, chuckling under his breath when you won't look him in the eye. "i'll get the kids, go get cleaned up."
the knot in your chest loosens when you hear the boys' laughter at seeing their father on the driveway. it loosens when simon picks both of them up, one in each arm, and glances up at you as you look down at them from the window.
heat licks up your cheeks when he gives you a smarmy little grin.
idiot.
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bi-writes · 12 days
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thinking about being the new addition to tf141. you are an asset given to laswell by the CIA, a timid little thing but your aim is always on target, and you are quiet, tech savvy, and you do as you're told. (18+, dark)
just how lieutenant riley prefers. he dwarfs you. the first time you meet, your eyes nearly come out of your head from how wide they go. he's so large, and you feel so tiny compared to him, and even though he does nothing but a disinterested once over, it is obvious to the rest of the team that you might just be his favorite.
it's most obvious in the subtle touches. when you're getting ready to jump, ghost comes up from behind and tugs on your parachute, nearly topping you over making sure it's secure. when you're getting ready in the back of the humvee, he reaches over and buckles your thigh holster for you when he notices the strap is coming loose. you nearly choke when you feel his big hand between your thighs, and you stare up at him with wide eyes when his pinkie moves up the seam of your zipper when he tugs his hand away.
and then the way he's on your six is unlike anything else. like glue, chest pressed to your back, his gloved hand squeezing your waist as he moves you every which way he pleases because you're so small to him, so easy, and he growls under his breath when he touches the curve of your hips or the fat of your ass.
maybe you might enjoy it if he wasn't so fucking awkward about it. if he didn't stare at you without blinking. if he didn't adjust his cock in his jeans right in front of you. if he didn't grip you by the back of your head, tugging you any way he wanted as if scolding a kitten using the scruff of their neck.
you think the team would notice by now--that they would step in, tell ghost to back off, but they turn a blind eye. they tolerate this behavior, and you don't know if it's because ghost is so good at his job, they don't want to, or that they are so afraid of him, they refuse to say anything.
or maybe they approve. maybe it keeps ghost at bay. maybe it keeps a lion in his den. a spider in its nest. maybe indulging ghost in his fucked form of flirting and socialization is what keeps the foundations of this team right where it needs to be--and you realize, slowly, that maybe that is why you're here.
because ghost likes them soft, and they need to put a muzzle on their dog.
so when you feel him in the dark, slipping a gloved hand under the blanket that keeps you warm at night, he is pleasantly surprised to find you awake. and even more surprised to feel your hand slipping the soft lace of your panties right into his fucking pocket.
"they teach y'that 'n basic training? how ta give y'r knickers to y'r lieutenant, eh?"
"no," you whisper, and when you meet his eyes in the dark, he looks so hungry. he's untamed, no training, he's used to getting what he wants with no resistance. you turn over in bed, and you don't get to see the way he sucks on his teeth when you let your knees fall, revealing the pretty place between your thighs, soft and puffy and wet, just waiting for a good mutt to eat her up. "but i learned other things."
"tha' right?"
"yeah," you say softly, and you turn over onto your stomach, pushing back onto your knees right in front of him. he bends, leaning over until he's pushing his masked face right into the seam of your cunt, and you grip the sheets tight when he inhales deeply, a rumble following as both of his hands grip either side of your ass and spread you open for him. you're drooling, wetting the nylon fabric, and you gasp when you feel the wet, warm muscle of his tongue suck on your folds through the mask. it's lewd, and you're wetting the material so much it sticks to the strong lines of his face, but he continues, tilting his head to the side as he laps at the pretty slick that dampens your thighs.
"what'd y'learn then, swee'eart?"
not how to fuck your lieutenant. but...you did learn to keep them happy.
"h-how to be a good girl."
and you think you feel him smile.
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