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hazelfoureyes · 2 months

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A boiling frog (Alastor x Reader smut)

saw someone talk about “boiling frog syndrome”, when a situation becomes dire so slowly you don’t realize how dangerous it is until it’s too late, like a frog slipping into death as the cold water comes to a boil, never trying to leap out. Made me think of Louisiana frog legs and, of course, our self obsessed deer demon. my longwinded ass used restraint and went for a PWP (I hope…. No, theres still plot. I’m a slut for plot. Sorry?)

Your companionship was peppered onto Alastor so gently and slowly he didn’t realize he was too far gone until he was hopelessly dependent on your attention. He decides the only remedy is to drown you in his.

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x fem reader, cunnilingus, biting, work attire, realistic descriptions of yet another job I once had, fingering, mentions of my favorite alcoholic beverage, southern shit, filing, that asshole in room 127

Minors DNI

When you first arrived at the hotel, Alastor was pleased to have some help. Charlie informed him of your experience on earth managing apartments and how you would be taking on the role of ‘Resident Relations Manager’. Any issues, complaints, or room adjustments would go to you first. Marvelous. As his underling, you often came to him with your own gripes and stories of the latest drama around the hotel. It became a sort of ritual to meet at the bar after work, talking about the day’s trivial matters over two fingers of rye and a cassis orange. One morning you joined him for coffee in the sunroom he added shortly after your arrival, silently enjoying the view. Then you returned the next day. At some point you started filling his mug and bringing it to the chair he always used. Neither of you spoke, which he found refreshing.

The group dinners were never his scene, the familiarity they bore was uncomfortable and dangerous to his plans. But he overheard your laughter as you and Angel teased each other about what could or couldn’t be defined as a kink. When he joined the table, he was pleasantly surprised at the in-depth conversations you sparked among the band of hopeless fools he’d come to enjoy.

So when he entered the sunroom one morning to see his cup, but not you, it ruffled his fur, so to speak. At dinner, he heard from Charlie you were eating in your office. The bar was full of residents and yet empty all the same when you never arrived.

Three days was all it took. Three days of not seeing you. When he walked past the bar at 9pm to see just Angel and Husk, he continued onward until in the safety of the darkened hall. Licking his teeth, he found himself getting angry. Annoyed that he was promised, by your actions, interesting conversation and like-minded company. His fists curled out of frustration, lights strobing as he stalked down the hall.

But that melted into something even more upsetting, he felt… worried. Not that his smile showed it, passing Vaggie with a nod of his head.

When did you manage to creep into his mind? Like an overlord taking territory, you had taken space in his thoughts with ruthless speed. Never one to be passive in competition, he realized he needed to take drastic measures to catch up to you. He knew of many ways to get *ahead, but he found an ambush always worked like a charm.

Alastor’s shadows gathered before he rose from the floor of your office.

You were standing near a filing cabinet, looking intently at something, “Hello there Alastor, to what-“ you turned the page, not looking at him, “do I owe the pleasure?” You hadn’t actually lifted your head from the file until you felt a hand in the small of your back. You flinched and took a step away, turning around to ask what he was doing when you noticed you weren’t in your office anymore.

The large hole in the wall that led into an endless swamp of a forest hinted at whose room this was.

Closing the file with one hand, you gestured around the room, “Is there a reason I’m here?”

He motioned for you to sit on the bed, and when you laughed he used the microphone to corral you to the edge. “You’ve been busy, as of late.”

“Swamped.” Usually your puns would get atleast a chuckle from your boss, but this time he passed right over it.

“I realized today we haven’t had one of our usual chats in quite a while. What’s been keeping you oh-so-occupied?” He pushed down on your shoulders until you came to rest on the bed.

Nervously, you scooted back a little from him, “Well, so many new residents has meant so many petty little issues. This guy on the 34th floor is angry that the man who killed him is on 37– Alastor?!” He had knelt down and lifted your ankle, slipping your shoe off.

“And?”

“What are you doing?”

“Isn't it obvious?" He picked up the other ankle, "Listening. Continue.”

You laughed breathlessly, “wha-,” but the way he looked up at you seemed to catch your tongue, “uhm, so- yeah so he doesn’t think his killer deserves redemption-,” the other shoe was taken off, neatly set besides its twin. You took a deep breath to try and calm down, “and even if he does, he shouldn’t be—,”Alastor’s hand slipped up your right thigh, fingers taking your stocking and rolling it down. His gaze on your face never wavering.

“Keep going.” The look in his eyes told you he wasn’t just suggesting it.

“-be on a higher floor.” He peeled the left stocking down, delicately pulling it over your toes.

You forgot to breath for a second. Instinctively you brought your knees together.

“That is quite annoying! What ever will you do?” That toothy grin widened as he looked up at you. His hand began to massage the sole of your right foot.

“Huh? Do what?”

“About the man on 34’s complaint”, his hand then moved up to your calf, he hummed, “what supple flesh, my dear.”

“Thank you?” Should you be scared or horny? Was he tenderizing his dinner? He looked up at you expectantly. “I told him if the angels return, higher floors would be the most dangerous.”

"Ha! Quite a clever response! Did it placate him?" He raised your right knee to his mouth, placing his lips above the joint. You felt his breath over your inner thigh as he let out a soft huff of a laugh, a reaction to your confused face. You were absolutely panicked; frozen. That wild look you were giving him, if he could he would drown himself in those eyes. Alastor felt his own excitement build, a twitch pressing his cock against the zipper of his dress pants. What a delicious reaction. His long hands crawled under your work skirt, nails grazing your skin as he grabbed the sides of your panties, "It's rude to leave someone waiting, dear."

You shook your head, crawling backward on the bed, "Okay, I get it. Ha ha, you managed to frazzle me."

A darkness fell over his face, "I don't think you do get it." He opened his mouth and dragged his teeth over the skin of your inner thigh, "You've neglected me quite rudely! Most people wouldn't dare such a thing and yet you don't even seem slightly concerned about it."

Rude? "Alastor, oh my god. What did I do? I've been at work every morning on time, if not early. I have been staying up late to make sure the resident files are up to date. I've been meeting with Charlie like you wanted about-,” He brought the panties down your thighs.

"It is what you haven't been doing, mon cher.” He pulled them clear of one leg, leaving them to hang off the ankle of the other leg. "I've been drinking my coffee alone in the sunroom, do you think I had the set of rocking chairs delivered for my own amusement? Dinner has been monotonous without your conversation. And what about our nightly gossip at the bar?" When he lifted your leg and hooked your knee over his shoulder, you fell back on your elbows to keep from lying flat.

"Listen-- Alastor!" His name was squeaked out as a bite stung you, dangerously close to your now naked pussy.

"Sir." He chided.

"Sir?!" He pushed your skirt up, exposing you, "Sir. I don't really like people going down on me."

"That's odd.” His hands gripped your thighs and dragged your ass to the edge of the bed, your pussy now inches from his face. His eyes rolled from left to right, “I don’t remember asking.” Your other leg was pulled over his shoulder, causing you to finally fall onto your back.

A long, wide tongue licked from mid thigh to the place where your legs met your crotch. You felt the heat of his mouth before he finally made contact with your core, one long lick from entrance to clit.

You buried your face inside the file, inhaling the smell of ink and paper with each pant. Your heart was pounding, the rush of blood from your head to your lap left you dizzy and seeing spots.

“Ah ah! I need your full attention.” He took the file and tossed it to the side. He needed to see your face, this was pointless if he couldn’t watch you go dumb in his mouth.

He had started this wanting to ensure you would be thinking about him as much as he had been you, but the way you couldn’t even speak when he touched you shifted his mission. Now, he wanted to win. Maybe he would be bothered by the absence of your presence in the sunroom, but you’d lie awake at night pained by the absence of his tongue in your cunt.

“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.” Your face was beet red.

“Good. I’ve never been very fond of sharing my toys.” His nose grazed your already throbbing clit as he sunk his tongue into you. Reflexively your thighs pressed against his ears, his head keeping you from closing them entirely. His tongue seemed to lick at your walls as if reaching for something, the sensation wet and warm. You whined, embarrassed at how you were twitching against his lips.

You could feel his smile widen, thumb pressing down on your clit. Gripping the sheets you tried to ease away, the pressure too rough. His nails dug into your left leg, keeping you from making any real difference.

As he dragged his tongue along your walls you felt something you normally didn’t when getting eaten out; the beginning tension of an orgasm slinking into your stomach.

When his mouth left your cunt you gasped, the air stinging at your wet hole and thighs.

“Starting from the morning, tell me exactly what you did today that was so important you didn’t feel the need to entertain me with your company. If your mouth stops moving, so will mine.” He brought his lips to your other thigh, nipping at the skin.

“I made your coffee but got a call about a resident.” His finger pressed against your entrance before breaching.

“Oh, it has been awhile. I thought you were just being modest”, he laughed, your embarrassed expression spurring him forward. He hadn’t expected you to be so tight on just a single digit.

“She feels unsafe, there’s a jackal demon on her floor who keeps”, his finger curled, hitting that bundle of nerves that made your eyes cross, “who is giving her really scary looks.” He bit down again, breaking the skin. You yelled, yanking your leg back but he didn’t release you. “Alastor- please. This is cruel enough.”

“You haven’t even begun to see me be cruel.” He lapped at the wound, finger in you slowly dragging out before entering again. Still bent, it would hit your spongey g-spot with every move. “After that?”

“I had a meeting with Charlie. About the different growth activities.” Eyes closed, you could feel your pleasure slowly inching up that peak. “I needed to organize the files first, so I ate at my desk again.”

His lips cupped your clit as he began to suck. Your hips rose off the bed and his mouth went with you.

“It’s a lot of paperwork, you won’t let me use a computer for it.” His hand pulled back as a second finger joined. The way your cunt was gripping his fingers, he couldn’t imagine how much you’d hiss around his cock. His hips rutted against the air beside the bed, out of your view.

You put your arm over your eyes to hide yourself in some way, breath hitching when his fingers began pumping in and out of you. The moans tumbling from your mouth made Alastor’s grip on you tighten further. His cock leaking into the front of his pants.

When his tongue stopped flitting over your clit you groaned a complaint.

“Ffuuuck, Alastor. D- Uh, Room 127 hates the view o-,” your jaw clenched around the words, “something something blah blah blah —nngh” your head went back, your hips now fully grinding into his mouth. You needed more friction, your orgasm rolling just to the precipice.

His tongue slowed.

“He- he uh, I said he could move,” his fingers curled, pressing over and over into your g-spot, “when he stops being such an asshole. fuck me, please don’t stop—,” you reached down for his head and took a fist full of hair, earning you a surprised moan from him.

Alastor removed his hand from your leg to palm his clothed erection. His nose buried into your bush as his own breathing picked up.

So close.

“-and now I’m here and you’re here,” your words breathy, “and I’m gonna cum—I’m so close, so close,” your lips tingled from the way you were panting.

You choked out a moan as your orgasm reached its climax and pleasure wracked your body. Your grip on his hair stinging, your pussy sucked his fingers in with so much need he closed his eyes and let himself cum against his palm at the thought of his cock in their place. He felt the warmth soak into his pants.

Both of your hands came to your face, too embarrassed to speak.

Alastor placed your shoes and tights beside you, and rested both of his elbows on either side of your head. His weight pressed into you, and you finally looked at him. He was resting his chin on his cradled hands, staring down at you.

With a smug grin and raised his eyebrows he said, “Apology accepted.” He pushed off of you, bringing both fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean with a wet ‘pop’. “See you in the sun room at 8am! Bring that cheery smile I’ve come to enjoy!” He sunk back into the shadows and was gone.

You looked around, you were back in your office. He’d transported you seamlessly from lying on his bed to lying on your desk.

“Yes, sir.”

*get it? He wanted to “get ahead”… head. The slang for cunnilingus ? I’ll see myself out

༻Masterlist༺

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povlnfour · 4 months

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ BEACHED! (OP81)

pairing: oscar piastri x f!reader

summary: after oscar saves you from an embarrassing accident on the beach, you accidentally go viral

warnings: cheesy humour, chaos

ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just tweeted

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 98,002 others

yoursername shout out to australia, especially to the random dude in orange who saved my life from prematurely ending (note: waves in australia are brutal stay away if you can't swim)

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yourbsf NO FR SHOUT OUT TO KING I WAS TOO BUSY LAUGJING AND TAKING PHOTOS

yoursername I NEARLY DIED Y/B/F

yourbsf i was too busy giggling! your dream boy and first time he's seeing you is nearly drowning

friend1 Y/N DO YOU KNOW WHO THAT IS (6)

yoursername an australian?

user IS THAT OSCAR???

user oscar in papaya even on the beach… i fear he has no other clothes

user WHAT IS GOING ON

user NOT ME SEEING OSCAR TODAY AFTER HE SAVED A RANDOM GIRL FROM DROWNING?!?!

yoursername who tf is oscar

oscarpiastri hi! random dude in orange here

yourusername UM.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ twitter reacts

ੈ✩‧₊˚ dms with oscar

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted stories

[captions:

1. treated the tour guide to lunch :)

2. note: don’t let an f1 driver drive the golf cart if you value your life. moments before i nearly died (again)]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

liked by oscarpiastri and 76,408 others

yourusername live evidence of the moment my tour guide turned on me

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user UHHHH

user oh so now they’re hanging out… i smell love at first sight

user NOT HIM DIVE BOMBING YOU????

oscarpiastri HEY i saved you again as well🙄

yourusername AFTER I SWALLOWED LIKE A GALLON OF WATER

friend1 @/yourbsf where were you during this murder attempt

yourbsf honey they don’t even know i’m here

ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just posted a photo

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 224,517 others

oscarpiastri best way to get used to the aussie waves is to just go for it☀️

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user okay when will an f1 driver save ME from drowning and fall in love (and then try to drown me on two other occasions)

user hahaha i think they’re just friends

user GIRL ^ look at what he just posted dedicated to her and tell me he’s not already obsessed

yourusername please stop trying to end my life i have a child at home

user UM

oscarpiastri a dog. she has a dog.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

liked by oscarpiastri and 103,228 others

yourusername australia i am in love with your food, your weather, and certainly your people. i can’t wait to come back one day🤍

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user ‘and certainly your people’ 🥹🥹🥹

user i knew she was only on holiday but why am i legitimately sad she’s leaving?

user why am i crying for people i don’t know

user is the shirtless man in the bg of the third oscar😳

oscarpiastri don’t be a stranger🧡

ੈ✩‧₊˚ texts with oscar (1&2) and your best friend

ੈ✩‧₊˚ your username just posted a photo

liked by 65,087 people

yourusername puppy therapy

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user no oscar in the likes again :(

user he’s so fluffy

user my heart aches so bad i want her back with oscar

user no fr i’m hoping that they can meet up when he’s travelling again :(

yourbsf coming over for a cuddle (with you and charlie pup)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just tweeted

replies…

user why do i feel like this is about y/n…

user i hope they still talk :(

user with the way they’ve been posting i don’t think they do :(

user sending you love oscar. you’ll smash next season🧡

user something definitely happened

user im guessing just summer romance that fizzled out now they’re both busy :(

ੈ✩‧₊˚ mclaren just posted

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 200,091 others

mclaren pre-season testing underway✅

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user did anyone see the interview he did on f1’s page?

user no what happened?

user they asked him about his winter break, and his smile faded so fast :/ then he just said he did a bit of exploring and moved the conversation on so fast

user god they. really fell for each other huh

user mclaren you have an opportunity to do the best thing. invite y/n to one of your races and reunite them please

ੈ✩‧₊˚ an email from mclaren

ੈ✩‧₊˚ texts with your best friend

ੈ✩‧₊˚ mclaren just posted a photo

liked by 247,996 people

mclaren a special home race for oscar with even more special guests🇦🇺 #OP81

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user IS THAT… IS THAT CHARLIE PUP. IS THAT Y/N.

user DID MCLAREN TAKE OUR ADVICE

user IS IT FINALLY HAPPENING ARE MY LOVES REUNITING?

user IM HERE RN AND SHES DEFINITELY IN THE PADDOCK

user FOR REAL? HAS OSCAR SEEN HER?

user NOT YET BECAUSE HE’S BEEN IN PRACTICE SESSIONS BUT THEY FINISH SOON

ੈ✩‧₊˚ user just posted a thread

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

liked by oscarpiastri and 123,008 others

yourusername who said fairytales aren’t real

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user OH MY GOD ITS OFFICIAL

user i would like to thank mclaren

user why am i crying. i don’t know these people

oscarpiastri and in all 100 versions of the story, i’d always choose you

ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just posted a photo

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 247,721 others

oscarpiastri i guess i was the real race winner after all

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user THE CAPTION IM SOBBING

user can’t believe y/n went from nearly drowning to dating the internet’s boyfriend

yourusername can’t wait to have my life threatened by you for years to come

oscarpiastri okay nearly backing over you was an ACCIDENT

mclaren you’re welcome😉

landonorris when is it my turn

mclaren challenge accepted…

landonorris NO NO NO I TAKE IT BACK

————

a/n: HIHIHI i hope this lived up to expectations omg. the snippet for this went crazy but i don’t know if this is good EEK

huge thank you to EVERYONE for all the love in my inbox and comments recently, i’ve had so much fun writing these smaus so it’s been great to see everyone’s thoughts🤍

this will most likely be my last one shot posted before christmas with not funny (didn’t laugh) being my first post afterwards, so i want to say a huge merry christmas to all who celebrate!!

and finally. thank you for 800 followers!!! merci du fond du coeur. ça représente beaucoup pour moi🤍🤍🤍

- giselle / zellie / gigi / elle / gi i havE SO MANY NAMES

taglist (found here): @iluvvmeeee @champagnelovers101 @alessioayla @idkiwantchocolatee @skatingiswalkingincursive @six-call @he6rtshaker @hobiismyhopeu @tallrock35 @sunflower-golden-vol6 @woozarts @minkyungseokie @vellicora @tsukishitm-a @lucyysthings @treehouse-mouse @iloveyou3000morgan @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers

#f1 x reader #f1 #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri scenario #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader

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candlecoo-sideb-art · 9 months

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So... I have a bit of an announcement to make. It’s hard for me to make and I don’t really know how to eloquently state it, so I just will.

In early July I was diagnosed with cancer, and a rare form of cancer too. Rare enough that the closest specialist is four hours away. Thankfully from what I’ve been told so far, my prospects look good, but we’ve been playing it by ear. However, the time between now and recovery may be long, painful and far too expensive.

And that’s the difficult part for me to bring up. I was working on a tight budget even before my health became an issue, but it’s even more so now. With medical and school bills now on top of my already strict funds it feels like I’m drowning. I’ve been taking up more hours at work even though I should be on bed rest just to make ends meet, but this will only last so long.

With encouragement from a friend, I set up a donation page on my Ko-fi, now I won’t ask you to donate. But just reading this and possibly sharing this post will be more than enough help! I hope you all will be understanding as well if my content becomes less frequent because of this major life event and I appreciate your patience. However, if you do find that it is possible to help in these trying times, I am so grateful.

Either way if you decide to donate, share this post or have simply read to the end, I wish to say thank you. It has always been my dream to share my passion and work with others and to inspire those who see it. You all make me feel seen and have inspired me to be more. Thank you for making my dream come true and I hope to share more with you all for a long time to come.

Ko-fi

#updates #irl stuff #i'm gonna try to be as active as i can #donations #thank you for everything

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goldfish-afterhours · 4 months

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Genshin Characters Apologizing After a Bad Fight

Characters: Diluc, Childe, Kaeya, Zhongli x Gn!reader

Type/genre: Bulleted headcanons, angst/hurt comfort?

Warnings: Curse words, probably not the healthiest coping mechanisms/apologies

Diluc

His apology comes out strained, as if the words are clinging to the back of his throat

His fists are clenched tight by his side. He prepares himself for you to yell, to scream at him

But you don’t even turn around to look at him

Diluc always saw you as his rock, his lighthouse in the stormy night, the one who keeps him steady as his duties of both vineyard owner and vigilante shake him back and forth like a ragdoll

But right now, it hits him for the first time how small your back is, how human you look

Has he been taking you for granted all this time?

When you don’t respond to his apology, he calls your name, and you finally turn around

His eyes widen when he sees the tears streaming down your face

His heart absolutely breaks. How could he have made you, his love, his everything, hurt this much?

Before either of you says anything, Diluc flies towards you, cradling your head gently in his arms, as if any slight pressure would cause you to break and shatter like glass

“How pathetic of me to make you cry. I’m so sorry.”

Childe

His heart could rival the weight of the world right now

Childe isn’t used to disappointing others. No, he’s always been the golden boy, the prodigy, the one who sets the bar and breaks it at the same time

So how come you are sitting with your back to him, refusing to say a word?

And why can’t he find it in himself to say something, anything, to make this better?

He is petty person, someone willing to drown an entire city rather than admit defeat. Any word of apology is almost impossible to force out of him.

Instead, he drops a book in front of you. It flips to a random page, and you can see the photos and names of people listed on it

Not unlike a cat bringing their owner a mouse, this was Childe’s form of an apology, even without the actual words being uttered.

“Choose any person from this book. I’ll bring you their head.”

Kaeya

His fingers are restless, constantly scratching the back of his hand or twisting each other

His jaw is clenched, shoulders slumped forwards as he refuses to look you in the eye

“I…I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

You knew that Kaeya had a hard time with apologizing—not because he was arrogant and thought he could do no wrong, but the emotional and physical toll it took on him was great

He often finds himself caught in a dilemma

On one hand, he has a difficult time admitting he is wrong as it forces him into a vulnerable position. To be wrong is shameful, an embarrassment.

On the other hand, he knows he fucked up. And he knows there are only a very few amount of fuck ups people let slide before they get fed up and leave.

And having you leave is not something he can afford

Kaeya’s seen this before. Faced again and again with abandonment, he knows a simple “I’m sorry” is not enough to make most people stay

But it is all he can offer

He prepares himself for the worst, but he was not prepared for the way you gently lifted his chin with your hands, a soft kiss melting away his fears

Zhongli

When you slam the door to your room, Zhongli doesn’t try to stop you

He doesn’t knock on your door, nor does he try to coax you out

He knows your type of anger—it’s like fire, and feeding premature apologies or sweet nothings would only fan the flames

So he sits outside your door until you’re ready to come out

Slips you snacks and books from under your door, in case you get hungry or bored in your anger

When you see the treats and novels slowly appear from under the door, you’re still fuming, but it’s difficult to be furious knowing your thoughtful lover is on the other side, not pushing you to calm down but trying to make you comfortable as you sit with your anger.

When you finally calm down enough to unlock the door and step outside, Zhongli is waiting

There is not a trace of annoyance on his face, but you can tell he relaxes a little from relief that you are willing to come speak with him again

Takes your hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze as he apologizes for his behaviour earlier.

“Please accept my apology, my love. I never meant to hurt you.”

#my writing #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin angst #genshin hurt/comfort #Diluc #Childe #Kaeya #Zhongli #diluc x reader #childe x reader #kaeya x reader #zhongli x reader

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rivalmelty · 8 days

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1/3 bsd prints im doing that need to be ready to print by thursday morning

#i’m drowning guys #i also have a presentations a 6 page essay due on wednesday morning so.#and i have to have a finished cover (ink and color) on thursday morning for a different class #i have two weeks i’m going to explode #oriondrewthis #anyway original ada you will always be famous

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coryosbaby · 5 months

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—1-800-ʙᴀɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴏᴅꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ !

(Dark! Dbf! Anakin Skywalker x fem! Reader)

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: your parents leave you home alone to tend to the christian faith. It’s a good thing that your daddy’s friend is there to help you atone !

୨୧ Content warning . Dubious consent (reader is naive, but consents), blasphemy & strong religious themes, manipulation, baby trapping? age gap (reader is of in her 20s), weird incest names but they aren’t actually related // innocence kink, god complex, loss of virginity, size kink, oral, pnv, missionary + full nelson position

Disclaimer: I am not religious, though I do know there are people that are. pls block if it bothers you! This is solely fiction and not meant to offend anyone, and I don’t condone using religion as a way to manipulate or hurt others. Thanks! ⋆｡˚ ⋆

Your parents leaving you alone is honestly a scary experience.

Although it’s fun (having the house to yourself means having the large flat screen tv in the living room), you’ve come to find that at night you’re quite afraid of the dark. And of course, your family has left on an adult-only Christian retreat and has left you home alone.

Sure, you’re more than old enough. But you haven’t been exactly… exposed to the world around you. So the idea of monsters and demons filling the dark corners of your home, it becomes even more prominent.

You try to concentrate on your bible, try to read through the verses where God tells you to fear no evil, but the paranoia is creeping in on your cold spine like a winter’s chill. You try to listen to music, too, to drown out the whispers you hear in the night.

But to no avail.

You decide that you have no choice but to call the only contact that’s available to you.

Anakin is your godfather, in the sense that he’s your father’s best friend. He’s always been around, and he’s always helped you with your studies. Anakin— uncle Ani, as you sometimes call him, lives less than a few blocks away. He always tells you that if you need him, he’ll be there. So it wouldn’t hurt to ring him up, right?

Pressing the dial on your phone, you type in his number with ease. Biting your thumb nail you wait for him to answer. He picks up on the third ring.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?”

You smile at his voice, the one that always gives you that tingly feeling in your stomach. You suspect that it’s because he’s your favorite person.

“Everything’s fine, Ani. Are you at work?”

“It’s a Saturday, isn’t it?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Then I’m off work, sweetheart,” he replies softly, and then you get that tingly feeling again. “Why did you decide to call?”

It’s not in the sense that he’s annoyed— he’s genuinely curious. You nervously rock back and forth on the balls of your feet.

“Well—“ you start, embarrassed. “Mom and dad are out, ‘n— it’s dark.”

“Dark?”

“It’s—“ you can feel tears beginning to form in your eyes as the wind creaks outside. “I don’t like it, Ani. I don’t wanna be alone in here... Please come.”

Anakin’s cock presses against his zipper at the sound of your whiny, desperate voice. He palms his bulge through his slacks.

“Yeah, baby. ‘Course I’ll come,” he pauses. “Just gotta do something first, okay? Then I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

You sniffle, the tears beginning to fall now.

“Okay. ‘M sorry.”

“For what? Don’t apologize to me sweetheart. Just wait there.”

—

A good forty minutes later Anakin is there, and when you open the door for him you latch onto him like a leech— your hands wrap around his waist, your bury your face into his fit chest, and you whimper against him as he coos gentle reassurances to you.

“It’s okay, baby. Uncle Ani’s here.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

He brings you over to the couch, sitting you on the cushion beside him as he looks down at your pink bible. He notes that you use the wooden cross necklace he had bought you for your nineteenth birthday as a bookmark.

“Been readin’?” He notes, looking down at the opened pages. You’ve been highlighting some verses, and next to this book there’s another: Christianity for Girls.

“Mhm.”

Anakin picks it up with idle hands. He flips to the first chapter.

“C’mere. Want me to read to you?”

“Yes, sir.” You reply, and with a gentle flick to your hair you begin to climb into his lap. It’s not uncommon for you to do this— he’s so comfy and warm. Even though sometimes the things in his pocket tend to poke against your bottom, you don’t mind. It’s worth it if Ani has his big arms wrapped around you.

He grunts as you settle down on him— his cock twitches as he feels your panties hit his lap. Your skirt is covered just enough to not expose you, but it still rides up as you sit down. His hand grips your thigh, and with the other he settles the book in his palm.

“Chapter 1,” he clears his throat. “Rules.”

Well, okay. If you say so.

“Girls should always follow their faith in God.”

Fair enough.

You nod along, as he reads the next.

“Girls should go to church every Sunday.” He smirks, turning to you. “Do you go to church every Sunday?”

“Of course! I love church.”

Anakin chuckles, flipping to the next page and adjusting himself from underneath you.

“Rule number three,” he says. His voice hesitates as he reads the next line, then he awkwardly clears his throat. “No premarital sex.”

Your brows furrow, bottom lip pulling between your teeth. “What’s that?”

He sucks in a breath, his cock beginning to become hard for a second time today.

“Sex? It’s—“

“No, no,” you giggle, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. “I meant— I know what sex is, Ani. Sort of. But.. what is premarital sex?”

“It’s sex before marriage. Doing it with someone you aren’t going to devote yourself to.”

“Oh.” You twiddle your fingers, eyes averting down to look at the ink splattered pages. “But— if you do it with someone you’re going to devote yourself to, without being married anyway, isn’t that still non premarital? I mean, in a way, you are married…sort of.”

Anakin shrugs, resting his head on your shoulder. You try to ignore how the closeness of his breath makes you tingle.

“Dunno, honey. I guess so. Never thought of it that way.”

You nod, wiggling around on his lap to get more comfortable. Anakin’s fingers grab your hips with a firm hand.

“Have you ever done it?” You ask. “Premarital sex, I mean.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle. Something in him is breaking apart, all these years of pent up sexual frustration for you beginning to come to a head as his resolve crumbles.

“Yes. Many times,” he coincides. “With a lot of people I didn’t care about. I shouldn’t of done that. It’s bad.”

Your face fills to the brim with heat, as the tension in the room grows incredibly thick. Your eyes widen when you feel him hump against your clothed cunt.

“What about you, baby?” He whispers against the shell of your ear. “Have you done it?”

You stutter, hesitating, and that’s when Anakin gets his answer.

“Right. ‘Course you haven’t,” and then, quietly, as if to himself, “Too precious for those little boys…”

You let out a small sound in the back of your throat, that tingly feeling growing evermore prominent. You don’t know why you’re feeling this way. Maybe it’s the heat in the room, maybe it’s your claustrophobia.

Or maybe, you think, it’s the devil.

White hot heat coils in your private parts, and you try to get off of Anakin to get rid of feeling. He tsks, grabbing your hips and shoving you back into his lap. You whine, hands gripping is in an attempt to get away.

“Ani.. c’mon—“

“Do you touch yourself?” He asks darkly. You let out a little gasp. “Do you touch your princess parts, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, almost too quickly, and can’t help but press your thighs together. Anakin is having none of it.

“Liar,” he hisses. “You have. Don’t lie to me, little girl. I know when you’re lying to me.”

“I’m sorry!” You whimper against his harsh grip. “I-I stopped! I did, I really did, and I’ve been meaning to repent and atone for my sins but I haven’t yet…please, uncle Ani.”

Tears of shame begin to fall from your eyes, wet and salty. You let out a little cry. Anakin softens a bit, his grip on you loosening. He wraps his arms around your tummy and quietly shushes you.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, angel, I know you didn’t mean to,” he coos, as your hands move around to rest in the locks of his hair. “Sensitive baby. I know it’s hard not to touch yourself down there. ‘S okay.”

“Promise?” You sniffle, turning your head to look into his eyes. He smiles.

“I promise.”

Your eyes innocently move down to his lips, that feeling growing inside even more.

“Ani..” you whisper. “It’s.. I want to.. to touch myself again. I don’t know how to control it…”

He strokes your hair out of your face with his fingers, cooing again.

“It’s okay,” and then, after a moment, with his cock pressed flush against your cunt, “I can help. Do you want me to?”

“But.. isn’t that premarital sex?”

He presses a kiss against your earlobe.

“You love me, don’t you? And I know I love you. So isn’t that marital sex?”

Your brain has turned into a puddle. Softly, you whisper out, “yes.”

He smiles against your skin, his hands sliding up past the expanse of your thighs.

“There’s something they don’t tell you about sex,” he murmurs. “When you let the man you love inside you, it’s a way to celebrate god. You become one with god.” He quirks a brow, watching you listen closely to him. “And you atone. Don’t you want to atone, baby?”

Your doe eyes look up at him, and you nod. He grins, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wants you. His thumb pulls the flesh of your bottom lip down and he watches it bounce back against your teeth.

“Why don’t you give me a kiss? Hm, pretty?”

And just like that, he’s got you. Your lips, ever so softly, come up to peck his. He smiles.

“Again.”

And you do kiss him again. Only this time, he presses hard into your mouth and it’s not long before his hands are tangling in your hair and he’s rubbing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s all surreal, this man below you, his cock hard. You don’t know that, of course. Pulling away from him, you have a confused look on your face.

“What’s always in your pocket? ‘S poking me.”

Anakin doesn’t say anything. He just laughs at you, and leans in for more of your kisses. You get too lost in the feeing of his hands massaging your inner thighs to press him for an answer. But you find out soon enough when you feel him push your hand down into the front of his pants. Letting out a small squeak you feel the warm skin of his cock, and something tugs at your lower tummy again.

“Oh.” you say softly, understanding. It was never something in his pocket— it was him.

“Feel what you did to me?” Anakin huffs out, as he guides your hand up and down on his length. “That’s my cock, baby. It’s what happens when I get really excited to see you.”

A small smile grazes your features at the thought of Anakin liking your presence. A whole lot, it seems, because his body is physically reacting. He grunts when you squeeze his length out of curiosity.

“Does it hurt?” You murmur, watching him.

“Not at all,” he coincides, adjusting you on his lap. “Feels good.“

And okay, that’s even better. Now you’re making Anakin feel good. Pride floods your chest. Watching him, you feel his precum drip down your fist.

“Can I see it?”

Your voice surprises him, and he’s nodding so quickly that it seems like he might break his neck.

“‘Course, pretty girl, can watch it all day if you want to…” looking at you hungrily, he mutters in a soft tone, “C’mere, get on your knees.”

Confusion muddles your brain, but not as much as the ache to please him. You crawl off of his lap, and he takes one of the couch pillows and places it on the floor.

“Sit.” He commands, and you rest your knees on the pillow and your small hands on his big thighs.

He unbuttons his fly, then his zipper. His bulge is straining against his briefs, a wet patch on the front from his arousal. Gulping, you watch as he pulls his pants and underwear all the way down and slips them off.

His length springs free, dripping with pre and insanely long. Your eyes widen as you watch it, wondering: where does it go?

Okay. So, you have a vague idea of where it’s supposed to go— somewhere in you, but you don’t know where. But either way, you know for for a fact that wherever that is isn’t adjustable enough for such a big thing. Your face floods with embarrassment.

“Where do I…” you start, quiet. Anakin furrows a brow, grabbing his cock into his palm.

“Where do you what?”

You avoid his gaze.

“Where do I.. put it?”

A smile quirks on the man’s lips, stroking himself to the sight of your pretty face peering at his cock.

“Your mouth, sometimes. But especially where you touch yourself, angel. Your cunt.” He tilts his head, not shaming you but trying to explain. “Do you know what your cunt is?”

You shyly nod, knowing that that’s what some of the boys around town called that spot where you touch yourself. And now, feeling this odd tingle inside you, it all makes perfect sense. It wants Ani inside.

But you frown at him.

“It won’t fit,” you say sadly. “‘S too big”

“It’ll fit, honey. Just have to stretch you first.”

Stretch you? That sounds painful! Fear courses through you.

“Stretch me?” You say worriedly.

Anakin seems amused by your reaction.

“It’ll only hurt a little, then it’ll feel really good,” he explains. “I promise. Don’t you trust me?”

Your head moves up and down, and you know that it’s true. He smiles softly, and then he’s tapping your lip with his finger.

“Open,” he says.

Your parted mouth falls completely open, pink tongue lolling out as he places the tip of his cock on it. It takes you by surprise, and your lashes flutter as his taste evades your senses. It’s an odd flavor— not too bad, but not too good either. Though, the thought of it being from Ani makes it all worth while. He slaps himself against your tongue a few times, the wet muscle making a plopping sound as his stringy precum creates a small puddle in your mouth. He watches, proud, and he praises you in the most gentle tone he can muster.

“Good girl. Such a pretty mouth, can’t wait to cum inside it…”

And that makes your eyes shut tight as you let out a loud whine, knowing that his cum is another delicious fluid that you will happily drink up soon. His cock guides itself even more into your mouth, the cockhead disappearing in between your plush lips. You use your mouth gently, treating his cock with care, not wanting to hurt your uncle Ani. He grunts when you swirl your tongue around him.

“Mmm,” he breathes. “Lick it, baby. Like an ice cream cone… yeahhh. Just like that, sweet girl.”

You hollow your cheeks around his mushroomed head, your brain becoming fuzzy at the feeling of his length moving in and out of your mouth. Suckling him, he’s soft and warm on your tongue.

You do this for quite some time. Anakin’s thrusts speed up, and he makes you take more and more and more. When you choke on him for the first time he tells you that it’s okay— “just get through it, baby, don’t you wanna be good for me?” And of course you do, because it’s Ani, and he’s really handsome and he smells really nice and his hands are so big as they card themselves through your hair. You can’t get enough and you’re almost angry he hadn’t shown you this sooner. Your vision is dizzy as he uses your mouth.

On a particularly harsh thrust that makes your throat spasm around him, Anakin begins to make some very pretty noises. Drool leaks down your chin and chest, your mascara running, his balls slapping against your chin. He groans loudly.

“Gonna cum,” he mutters out. “Gonna fill up your throat. Do you want that, sweet girl?”

You can’t say anything, but you try your hardest to nod around his cock. He gets the message. And with stuttering hips, salty fluid shoots into the wet canal of your mouth. It fills you up until you’re choking, and as Anakin rides out his high his cock practically coats itself in cum as he moves in and out, in and out. He pulls you off of him after a moment, and with a mouth full of spend you gasp out for air. Anakin’s got this possessive stare in his eyes as he looks at you.

“Swallow it.”

You do. You gulp it down excitedly, and with a small “aaaaa” you stick out your tongue so he can see that you’ve consumed it all. Anakin looks down at you with a grin on his face.

“That’s my girl.”

—

“I want you to… to put it in me.”

Your voice speaks softly in the darkness of your room, rain pattering against your window as Anakin sits on your bed across from you. It’s been a week since your last… encounter. Your parents are out once again— and as requested, Anakin had shown up on your doorstep to keep you company. After a mug of hot chocolate, your favorite, you had invited the man into your room. A cross is around his neck, shiny with a silver chain. His hair is messy, his fingers clad in silver metal rings. You want to bite them.

Anakin smiles, pretty teeth shining.

“Do you know the story of the Virgin Mary?” He asks, out of context. Your eyes light up. Mary is your favorite biblical figure.

“Yes!” You reply to him. “She got pregnant by God.”

“And how did she do that?”

“By magic!” You say. “She gave birth to Jesus.”

Anakin chuckles, kissing your forehead softly.

“Such a smart girl. But sweetheart, magic didn’t give her a baby.” At the sight of your confused face, he continues. “Sex did. That’s how all babies are made.”

Heat creeps up your neck, your face puzzled. “So you’ll give me a baby?”

Anakin should be frightened at the thought of getting his best friend’s daughter pregnant, but he isn’t. In fact, he smiles, his touch leaving tingles against your skin.

“If that’s what you want. Just imagine, angel..” his lips brush against your ear, smoothing back a strand of your hair. “A beautiful baby. My nose, my lips.. those pretty eyes of yours.”

You bite your lip, your heart fluttering. Having Anakin’s baby would be your dream! Having a house with him, children running around, Anakin coming home from work everyday…

Oh, but daddy would be so mad.

He would never look at you the same again. He would be ashamed, he would damn you to the deepest pit of hell.

You think these things so incredibly, but once Anakin’s lips press against yours all of those things go away. He kisses you slow, sweet, gentle. His stomach presses against your tummy.

“I can’t wait to see it. Your little belly, all swollen with my baby..”

And daddy is out of your thoughts and replaced with a new, different daddy: Anakin.

It’s not long before he’s got you laid down on your ruffled pink sheets, your baby blue nightgown gone (“cmon, let me see that pretty body”), with Anakin’s lips trailing down your neck. He’s gotten you prepped, used his fingers and tongue in oh so many ways that had made you quiver, used your throbbing cunt for his own meal. When you spread your legs for him this time, it’s so he can rub his incredibly hard length against the lips of your pussy. Delectable and sweet as he remembers, Anakin watches the way your leftover cum and slick coat his length generously.

He’s never seen a cunt so cute, so fat, so swollen and precious. He taps his cockhead against your clit, listens to the desperate little pleas you let out as you look up at him with doe eyes.

“Please, Ani, want your baby.”

“Please, daddy, put it inside me. My cunt’s so tight and wet for you..”

You don’t say that last part, Anakin’s imagination runs wild, but he knows you’re probably thinking that— thinking that as his mushroomed tip pops inside your entrance, stretching, burning. Thinking that as you cry, your salty tears his most delectable meal besides the thing in between your legs. Thinking that as you grimace, give him that pained look as he fully sheathes himself inside.

And then, he begins to move.

It’s like a fire in your gut, at first. Hot, burning, grating. But soon it gives way to something else— something not even his fingers can create, something that’s absolutely out of this world. Your nails dig into his back, leaving red welts along the skin, and you should apologize but you can’t bring yourself to care. Ani’s whispering something in your ear, something dirty, filthy, and deprived; you enjoy it so much, you really do, as he speaks to you like this.

“Good girl, so tight. Daddy’s so happy when he fucks his little princess.”

“Look at that, how red and swollen your little pussy is. Is my cock too big for it?”

After harsh thrusts, skin slapping against skin, and curled toes, Anakin pulls out of you. You almost sob from the loss, but it isn’t long before he lays you on top of him and slips himself back into your sopping hole, pulling your ankles behind your head. This causes your eyes to flutter open again, a small moan leaving you. Anakin brings his hands around to hold your legs and head in a chokehold. He fucks you like that, all twisted and overstimulated.

Looking down, you watch as his length fills you to the brim and moves in and out of you.

“A-Am —“ you sniffle, a pleasured sob racking through your throat. “Am I being good, Ani? Is… Is god inside me now?”

Anakin groans, his hips pressing even harder against your raw fucked pussy.

“Yeah, baby,” He breathes, his hand pressing against the bulge poking out of your lower tummy. “God’s in you. Right in this little tummy.“

You mewl, understanding his words, the blasphemy in them. A blush coats your cheeks as you murmur out, “don’t say that.. ‘s bad. You’re being bad.”

“But I’m making you feel so good. Aren’t I, baby?” He taunts, with a hint of malice in his voice. “Isn’t this what you wanted? A thick, hard cock to fill up this little pussy?”

You shake your head, trying to deny yourself this pleasure you can’t contain. Anakin chuckles.

“Yes, it is. I can tell when you’re lying, little girl... oh, look at you. Little legs are shaking. Poor baby…”

You should feel guilty for all the dirty things leaving his sinful mouth. You should hate him and find him icky and push him away. Hes a dirty, filthy man.

But… he’s your Ani. The man who protects you, hugs you when you’re sad, buys you your favorite lip gloss and stuffed animals. And that cross is dangling in pressing against your back, cold and heavy like a burden but still turning you on and— he smells so good, and although you keep trying to move away from his harsh fucking, you know in your mind that you don’t want him to stop. Little sounds escape your throat with each thrust, moans and whines that sound like a wounded animal. But you are far from wounded— unless you count the soreness you’re probably going to feel tomorrow from Anakin pounding your guts.

Grunting, his arms flex on each side of you as he grasps your body with firm hands.

The man’s cock moves against your walls harshly, slick penetrating the skin of your thighs and making you shake. A smirk glazes his lips as he watches your face contorted in pleasure, and your neck is craned so you can see every facial expression he makes.

You thought you had never seen God. But right now, you might not be so sure.

“Good little angel,” he groans gently. “Such a tight little fuck hole for daddy.”

You want to be disgusted by the name, wanted to be disgusted since the first time he said it, but before you can think too hard the tip of his mushroomed head slams against a certain spot that has you sobbing out, “daddy, daddy!” against your own accord. He moans himself at the sound of your pleasure.

“Good fucking girl. Hittin’ that princess spot so good, yeah? Pussy feelin’ good?”

Your eyes roll back, your body going limp like a rag doll as you relax against his jackhammering thrusts. It all feels too good. The Bible always talks about heaven and you think that this is truly it: Anakin below you, holding you down, humping into you like an animal, as he spews disgusting phrases into your ears.

Maybe he isn’t the devil. Maybe he’s God.

You can feel something building up in your tummy, the familiar butterflies now turning dark like moth wings, scraping against that one spot over and over and over. God grins from below you, and bringing his hand up he forces your mouth open with his big fingers. His spit lands down on your tongue, wet and warm and perfect.

“Swallow.” He commands, and you do it greedily. Your voice moans for more, aches for more, and he does it thrice.

“Do you trust me?” He growls. “Do you trust you uncle Ani, baby?”

“Yes! Yes sir.” You whimper, and you know it’s true when it falls from your lips. He forces his fingers to press even harsher around your head. Your ears ring, a pressure beginning to form in your skull.

“God’s got you,” Anakin growls. “God’s got you and your life in his hands. And you know what?”

You don’t say anything, just shake your head as you try to catch a breath of air.

“He’s not gonna let it go.” He continues. “You’re gonna feel this, honey. You’re gonna get fucked like this all the time—“ your vision is blurring, his words making you spasm. He brings his fingers down to that swollen button on your soaked pussy and rubs in harsh circles. “— When daddy thinks his precious little girl is asleep, when he thinks she’s praying to god, she’s going to be praying to me. Choking on my dick, getting fuckin’ bred. Do you want that? Do you want my cum, you fucking slut?”

You can’t really hear him anymore; your body has gone completely limp, your eyes fluttering shut as you ride out wave upon wave of pleasure. You’re still breathing, you know you are, but you fall unconscious in Anakin’s harsh grasp.

And when he sees you like that, all fucked out and deadweight, he groans and begins to pound you harder.

#bunny spelling Anakin right for once?!!#bunny writes ͟͟͞☆#anakin Skywalker #anakin Skywalker x reader #anakin Skywalker x fem! reader #dbf! Anakin Skywalker #dilf! Anakin Skywalker #anakin Skywalker smut #dom! Anakin Skywalker #star wars #Hayden Christensen #dark! Anakin Skywalker

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lyesander · 10 months

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Not crazy about people writing off the Titan submersible incident as some schadenfreudic buzzstory they can rag on for a handful of internet funny points. I get the frustration, I really do. At least three of the passengers had to shell out $250,000 a ticket for a glorified deep sea Disney ride. The CEO of OceanGate is a capitalist wackjob who has been complaining about and bypassing safety regulations for years, despite multiple warnings, and now the retrieval is taking up time and resources from multiple countries that could have been put to better use. But one of the crew members on board was also the nineteen year old son of another passenger. I doubt his involvement extended much beyond “I’m going on a fun trip with my dad.” Another was an unaffiliated researcher who joined the expedition to collect environmental samples for DNA analysis. Not everyone on board was a high-rolling corporate yuppie. (And even if they were, it’s still a pretty objectively horrific way to die.) Instead of memes, I’d rather see this prompt a discussion on the ethics and potential regulation of scientific tourism.

The above also doesn’t change the fact that this is dragging media attention away from more pressing issues, such as the sinking of the Andriana. I guess “THE TITANIC CLAIMS ANOTHER FIVE VICTIMS” is a more colorful headline than “the EU’s xenophobic migration policies have led to the deaths of hundreds of migrants seeking asylum in Italy, and an active cover up is now taking place, headed by Greek authorities.” Seeing all this energy be funneled towards dragging this tiny capsule out of the Atlantic when up to five hundred refugees - mostly women and children - were locked in the hull of a ship and left to suffer the exact same fate, while Coast Guard vessels looked on and did nothing (or even had an active role in the capsize after a botched attempt to tow it, according to some testimonies), illustrates the sway money and race have in what we pay attention to. It’s a gruesome example of inequity in action.

I had compared what happened to the Titan to the Kursk incident, but the Andriana doesn’t have the luxury of being a freak accident. Over 25,000 migrants have disappeared or drowned trying to cross the Mediterranean since 2014, with over 2,000 deaths taking place in 2022 alone. Those are staggering numbers. Protests have broken out across Greece over the past week in the wake of the tragedy, advocating for migration reform.

While these sorts of mass casualty events tend to leave us feeling disheartened and helpless, there are ways to help. Below is a link to SOS Humanity’s donation page. Reputable search and rescue organizations such as SOS Humanity or SOS Mediterranée built their mission statements around helping migrants like the ones on board the Andriana. Donate if you can, spread the word if you can’t.

#lye speaks #titan submersible #messenia migrant boat disaster

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lottiecrabie · 5 months

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anatomy – matty healy

matty is supposed to tutor you in biology, but there’s another subject you’re much more interested in…

or tutor!au <3

tags: 18+, oral sex, unprotected sex, dry humping, dom/sub undertones, choking, cumplay, virgin!matty, freaky little loser guy

6802 words

You sit on top of the sheets of your bed, ankles crossed. You pop your bubblegum, flipping boredly through your Cosmo. Lipsticks, perfectly preened women, and the top ten sex tips flip in front of your eyes. You halt at the horoscope, indulgently checking yours. You’re not superstitious: it’s just that anything is better than this godforsaken lesson.

“And, you see, the specific shape of the active site of an enzyme enables it to function,” Matty drawls on, unfaltered by your clear disinterest. Maybe he doesn’t see; his nose is pulled tightly in his book. “It’s— It’s really a simple understanding of 'lock and key'. You can think of enzyme activity as molecular collisions resulting in the formation of enzyme-substrate complexes.” All the terms blur together in your mind. In one ear, transformed and decorated by the pretty pink things on your page, then out the other.

You almost feel bad for Matty, pushed into your room by your parents with pleading, desperate eyes to make you learn something. He sits at your desk while you distract yourself with whatever is more interesting which, as it so happens, is almost everything. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t say much to you other than hey and a string of jargon you don’t care to understand. It’s not like your bitchy, unimpressed stare is very welcoming.

Matty has this nervous, twitchy energy about him. He stutters through half of his sentences, pushing his glasses up his nose, searching for the fixed point in his book he lost. He swallows thickly, starts again. An awkward, limby thing.

Really, it’s a shame he wears all those nerdy shirts and drowning clothes, as well as those horrendous thick, square glasses. If you assess him objectively enough, he could be quite pretty. He’s lean, with a cutting jaw, and adorable curly hair. Girls would look away a flutter of red flags if it meant birthing kids with those traits.

You sigh, pushing the Cosmo off your bed, rolling to your belly. You rest your chin on your crossed arms, eyeing Matty. He gives you a look at the shifting noise, rounding his eyes as they fall on the stripe of skin your loose lounging shorts have revealed in the crossfire. It’s barely a few centimeters of your asscheeks, but Matty blushes all the same, flipping back to his book as though burned. You smirk. Interesting.

“Matty,” you trail lightly, the cadence of a song.

You found your bright new, shining distraction. Your smile is vicious and dangerous, ready to bite, to gnaw to the bone.

Matty looks up at you, incertain. You rarely address him during your tutoring lessons. You’re not even sure you’ve said his name before, at least not to him. “I’m bored with biology,” you declare, artfully pouty and dejected.

“Oh,” he says. He swallows thickly. Flips through his book. His nervous tics make him all the more tantalizing to you. Some cruel need to toughen him up. “Um—”

You lick your teeth, grinning. “I want to study anatomy.”

Matty laughs, pushing his glasses up his nose. “That’s not in the syllabus.” There’s something about his total misunderstanding of your line that makes the need frizzle inside of you. An innocent little thing, to pick and devour through.

You sit up, resting your weight on your heels. Your knees part suggestively, the loose shorts riding up your thighs. Your crop top sits up your ribs. Belly button piercing winks at him. Matty takes in the sight, face pale. You grin, victorious.

“I didn’t mean that anatomy,” you say, teasing. You rest a hand loosely on your leg, purposefully dragging his stare down to it. Your pink nails flash against your skin.

“Oh.” He swallows thickly, hypnotized by the soft flesh of your thighs. “I—” He shakes his head, as if to draw himself out of the daydream. “I, um—” He repeats, then laughs, “What?”

You sigh, kneeling up and getting off the bed. Your bare feet wiggle in the fuzzy, pink carpet. You prowl to him, predator-like. His breath hitches in his throat, right where you want it.

“Matty,” you sing, and he chokes at the sound. Just his name drives him wild— good to know. You get close enough to lean on the desk, to tower over him. He blinks up at you, robbed of speech. You flutter your eyelashes at him. “Are you a virgin?”

His lips part in surprise, but he doesn’t answer. Not that he needs to; the fucking sight of him is enough to know. It’s about the fun of watching him stumble, stutter, push his little glasses up his nose, telltale signs you revel in.

You sit on the desk, bunching his careful notes. You trail two fingers up his shoulder, that awful cheap plaid. You almost resent the feel of it on your skin, if not for the way he shivers.

You pout mockingly at him, stopping where the collar of his shirt meets the skin of his neck. “Are you gonna answer me?”

“Yeah— yes.” You run your fingertips on his neck, a grazing touch that has him staring up at you in devotion. You smirk.

“Have you ever been touched like this?” You run your thumb to the other side of his neck, a strong path. You want him to feel it, until your hand stretches over his throat, possessive.

He swallows under your palm, Adam’s apple bobbing on your fortune-telling palm lines. “No,” he admits quietly. You feel it resonate more than you hear it.

You hum, silently thrilled. “And have you ever been kissed?” You whisper.

Matty stares up at you. He waits a second, two— takes his time. “No.” You smirk. You pick your gum between two fingers, pressing it into the corner of his notes. Perfect.

It’s a little awkward, of course, because you’re perched on the desk and he’s sitting all the way down on his chair, gripping its arms. But, still, you bend down and kiss him square on the mouth.

He gasps against you, freezing there. You’re undeterred; you kiss and kiss him, smearing your strawberry lipgloss, until he snaps into action and kisses you back. It’s a rhythmless, artless thing.

He doesn’t know how to kiss.

What he lacks in technique, he makes up in eagerness, opening his mouth and licking a wet tongue into yours. You giggle a little, taste the Sour Patch kids he nervously ate from his bag between two scientific words you purposefully didn’t remember. You press at his throat, just so he’s as breathless as you are. He moans against your lips, panting.

Matty doesn’t dare touch. His body is fixed to the desk chair, letting himself be kissed, taking only what you are willing to offer. He sits there like you are breathing life into his mouth, eating and eating and never asking for more. It’s what makes you want to give him more.

You pull away from him, straightening like a queen taking her throne. Under you, the pages wrinkle and ruffle, and he doesn’t even care. His lips are swollen and pink, shiny from the lipgloss. Breaths puff out from there, pulling attention.

“You’re kinda pretty,” you admit lowly, like a secret he should know.

“Thanks,” Matty flushes.

You release his throat, wiping your pink gloss off his lips. They part instinctively. You smile, slipping your thumb inside. He sucks the strawberry, warm tongue on your fingerprint. Power loosens your head.

“Do you want me?” You ask, as though his mouth drooling around your thumb wasn’t indication enough. You want the words; you want the worship.

“Yeth,” he says, choking on your finger. You smile, taking it out and drying it on his cheek.

You don’t make a big show of taking your shirt off. Your hands are at the hem of your baby tee, then it’s off your shoulders, thrown on the pink carpet. Matty whines, surprised and overwhelmed, throwing a furtive glance at the cracked door of your bedroom.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, taking his hand. Soft and weak; he hasn’t worked a day in his life. It’s slack between your fingers. He lets you puppeteer it to your breasts, lets you grope yourself with him as an instrument.

He makes another small noise from the back of his throat, staring at the fucking sight like he can’t quite believe it truly is his own hand. “God,” he mutters to himself, and it’s exactly how you feel.

“Say thank you,” you taunt him, because you know he will.

Like clockwork, Matty revels, “Thank you.” Growing bold, he rubs a thumb over your hard nipple, a tough callus you didn’t expect on the tip of it. It makes you moan; a crack in your spotless armor, but he doesn’t even notice. Too preoccupied with playing with your tits, pawing at it greedily.

“Can I—” He flushes, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Can I lick them?” A drop of heat strikes through you. You clench your thighs, arching your back into his readied palm.

“Yes.” He leans in before you’ve finished the s, sucking your abandoned nipple into his mouth. He licks and rubs and pinches, raw skill pulling at your sensitive skin. You bite back groans, breathing harshly. Your chest rises and falls into his mouth, but he’s just as diligent.

You rake a long-nailed hand into his hair, scratching his scalp with every particularly delicious lick. He moans at that, vibrating on your sensitive nipples.

He sticks his tongue out, panting like a dog, dipping down to the valley of your tits and pressing a kiss, then climbing up a new breast. He bites gently, and you jump, surprised by his boldness.

“Sorry,” he whispers. You don’t like this little switch-up in power. He’s supposed to be purring for you, enthrallment shining in his eyes. You tug on his hair, making him look at you.

Matty stares up, dutiful. He doesn’t care about the power game; hasn’t even realized you were slipping. He takes what you give.

You soothe away the sting of his hair. “Pretty boy,” you coo. Matty beams at that. “I want to hear you scream.”

With this, you jump off the desk, and kneel under it.

“Oh,” Matty says, eyes wide as he watches you fumble with his pants. You unbutton and unzip, fast and knowledgeable, dipping into his boxers— “Wait.”

You look up at him, inches from your goal. You cock your head, frowning. “What?”

“Just—” He pants, staring at you. “Just give me a second.”

You hum, grazing a finger on the faint happy trail of his stomach. His belly sucks in. “Are you nervous?”

“No,” he says. “Yes. I don’t know.” He laughs. His hands still grip the armrests, white-knuckled. “Why are you doing this?”

You shrug. “I want to.” You tip your head, kissing his soft hand. “Do you want me to?”

“Well, yeah.”

You grin. “Relax.” Finally, your hand slips under his underwear, and you wrap around his hard length. He gasps, cold fingers against hot skin, fingers against him.

His hips jump into your fist as you draw him out. Another nervous glance to the door, still half-opened. Your parents are somewhere in the house, pretending not to exist. You lick your lips.

You lightly scratch your pink nails against him. You run a thumb on his tip, smearing precum. He hisses, turning into a moan as you slowly drag your hand down. He’s frozen and tense, almost afraid of moving, as if that would make you go away.

“Teach me,” you say.

He blinks at you, dazed. “Huh?”

Your eyes vaguely look up to the desk you hide under, biology notes in his scratchy writing laying wrinkled. “Biology. My parents are paying you for a reason, aren’t they?”

“Oh—” He flushes, embarrassed. Pushes his glasses up. “Right, right.” His hands let go of the armrests, searching through the pages. You choose this moment to kiss the tip of his cock. He whimpers, shutting his eyes in pleasure. “Fuck.” You giggle, all too happy.

He struggles to find where you disturbed him, biting his lip in comical concentration. You tease him, enjoying all the little breaths he chokes on, the soft sounds he tries to hide. Your hand pumps up and down, twisting at the wrist.

You wonder how often he’s done this on himself, who he imagined between his legs.

From now, it’ll be you. You’ll make sure of it.

“Um, right, so,” Matty starts, out of breath. “In some reactions,” he continues arduously, “one substrate is broken down into multiple products. And—” Devilishly, you lick a stripe up his length. He groans, twitching on your tongue. “Shit,” he mutters. It’s funny coming from him; the swear rings wrong, like a costume.

He drags his stare down, pulling away from his notes to watch you. You indulge him, parting your lips and wrapping them around his tip. You suck on it gently. His face wrinkles, a moan breaking from him. You pull your head down, swallowing him. He clutches at his papers, scrunching them himself.

“Oh, God,” Matty says, trying to catch his breath as you bob your head. “I’m— Shit.”

You let go of him with a wet pop, stroking him quickly. “Shh,” you tease him. “My parents.” Again, he throws a nervous look towards the door.

Saliva and lipgloss and precum already lube him, but you keep your hand at his base as you spit on his cock. You drag it down his length. Matty’s eyes snap towards you. “Do that again.” He wants to see you.

You smirk, tilting your head to leave wet kisses up his cock, then lick his tip. You spit on it, and a low groan resonates from him. His hips rise up into your hand, but you push them down with your claws.

“Fuck,” he whimpers from the back of his throat, melting on the chair. He likes it messy. You grin, peppering little kisses over his cock, smearing him in strawberry lipgloss.

“What’s the other thing?”

“Huh?” He blinks, tying himself back to reality. “Right, um, substrates. It’s—” Again, you choose this moment to push him down your throat. He loses speech, mumbling incoherent syllables, some broken version of your name.

Though your head bobs quickly, pulling further and further down his length, twisting a stroking hand all the same, you pinch your nails at his hip. He jumps, struck out of the daze of pleasure, blinking down at you.

“Yeah, it’s— The other reactions are—” You let go of his hip, pinching your own nipple instead. Matty whines, losing his train of thought. “You’re not being fair.”

You laugh, spitting him out to catch your breath. You grope yourself and he watches, not sure which hand to focus on. His cheeks are tinted red, maybe from effort, or adrenaline, or shyness. It’s cute enough to bite.

Wonder shines in his eyes. He can’t believe this is happening; he’s eternally grateful, as he should be. As they all should have been, those faceless men you’ve blown in the bathrooms of parties for attention and a momentary stop to complete boredom. They stayed quiet, almost afraid to make noise, to show they enjoyed it, until they shook and spilled inside your mouth. Matty’s not afraid to moan.

Your brain rushes, sticky happy. You pant on his cock, trailing a finger down your stomach, then dipping in your shorts. Matty’s eyes widen, straightening to catch a glimpse. You smile, catching a pool of your arousal.

You come back up, fingers sticky and wet with your slick, and smear it on his cock. Matty scrunches his face, whimpering, shaking under your hands.

“You’re trying to kill me.”

“Only because it’s easy,” you mock, jerking and twisting your two hands in rhythm, wet sounds ringing in the room.

You free his cock, gripping the armrests of the chair instead. You wrap your mouth around it, and bend down until your nose touches the faint smatterings of dark hair on his belly. You gag on him, and he strangles the edge of the desk trying to kill his moans.

You pump him in your mouth quickly, feeling him twitch and rise to meet you. He remembers himself, falling down on the chair dutifully, not even burying a needy hand in your hair, as though afraid that would be asking for too much.

You drag up, making him hit the inside of your cheek, before releasing him. You spit the precum on him, blinking up through teary eyes. He doesn’t have any words, red swollen lip bitten raw.

“I taste great,” you say, and then offer up your still-wet fingers to him. He’s eager, sucking them into his mouth. He bobs, imitating you, and the sight and feel makes hot desire drip inside of you.

You want to squeeze him until he pops.

You take his hand, pulling it into your hair. He grips instinctively, pushing it out of your face. “Don’t push,” you warn, serious. He nods frantically, and you trust him to mean it.

You take him into your mouth for what you know is the final time. You’re certain he won’t last long, droopy and moaning and twitching, hissing every time your tongue runs on him. You bob with skill and precision still. He tugs at your hair, both hands in now, trembling in the mess of it. He never pushes, or fucks his hips up; trusts you to undo him yourself.

He swears and curses and whimpers, head falling down and back, vacillating between the sky and your red, puffy face. The sink is heard from faraway, but you don’t think he can even hear it.

“I'm dreaming,” he whispers to himself, sounding wild. “I’m gonna wake up. I’m gonna be— I’m gonna—” Matty cries, slapping a hand over his mouth, and comes down your throat. He shakes, loud moans hidden in his palm, eyes shut and forehead wrinkled.

He lets go of your hair with a fucked-out sigh, panting. His eyes never leave you, disbelief written all over it. You pull him out of your throat, and smile at him.

You’re about to swallow when he touches your arm, unsure of where he’s allowed to now. “Wait, can you—” He grows embarrassed, blushing. “Can you open your mouth?”

You part your lips, showing off his white cum still sitting on your tongue. He whimpers at the sight, fingers digging into your arm. His breathing turns irregular, cheeks reddening, eyes darkening. He’s so strange.

Still, you stick your tongue out, putting his load in evidence, making a spectacle of it. He looks tortured, enthralled.

You stay long enough that you feel it run down, long white rope hanging from your tongue, then dropping on your breast.

“Fuck,” Matty whispers to himself. Seemingly without thinking, he runs his thumb on your breast, catching his cum and sucking it between his lips.

You smile, slurping the cum back into your mouth, and swallowing it. You flash your red tongue at him. “All clean.”

“Thank you,” Matty says. “I— I’m not sure why you did that, but— I, you know, appreciate it.” He’s so polite. You’d laugh if he wouldn’t snap back into that little head box of his.

“I’m very thankful for all those lessons,” you wink.

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.” Matty’s finger rubs the skin of your arm, that strangely tough callus, and it has you leaning into his touch. “Though, this has been my favorite lesson.”

“God, I couldn’t even get a word out.”

“Hence why.”

Matty snorts and he offers you a hand. You grab it to manœuvre out from under the desk. You push your sweaty hair out of your face, then wipe the leftover stickiness from your breasts.

Matty, of course, follows the movement to your tits. He swallows. “Do you, um,” he pushes his glasses up. “Do you want, like, something back?”

You arch an eyebrow, incapable of holding a small giggle this time. “Do you know how?”

He stares into your eyes. “I could try.”

And, again, there’s just something about his eagerness, his willingness, his open devotion, that has you saying, “Yeah, I guess you could try.”

You tiptoe to your bedroom door, looking left and right into the hallway, before quietly shutting it. You turn around to a displeased Matty. “Oh, so you get to have it closed?”

“‘S more fun when you’re struggling,” you shrug, devilish. You run to the bed, falling on the pillows, fluttering your eyelashes at him. “Come here, pretty boy.” He practically trips out of his chair to find you. He’s three steps in when you stop him. “Take your clothes off.”

He grows shy under your gaze. Staying in place, fingers shaking, he starts to unbutton his plaid shirt. He kicks off his sneakers and his baggy jeans until he stands there in his boxers. He’s as scrawny as you imagined him to be. You smile.

Matty crosses his arms. “Can I see you, too?” He whispers.

You shimmy your shorts off your legs and throw it beyond the bed. Matty’s stare stutters on your pink thong, wet patch where your desire pooled.

You draw a hand towards him and he takes it, falling over you on the bed. He doesn’t waste time, giving you a sloppy kiss before mouthing at your neck, your collarbones, your tits. He laps at them first and you wonder if he’s trying to get the last lingering taste of his cum. He catches a nipple next and sucks it.

Gaspy moans leave your lips. You part your legs instinctively and he buries between them, already hardening. His cock hits your thigh and he sucks and pinches and plays until you start thinking he might really be able to try.

Your hands descend down his back, freckled under your nails. You grip his small waist, pushing at his hip, the hem of his boxers. Matty understands, leaving you long enough to kick them off. He pants in front of you, leaning back already, wet, swollen mouth parted.

Matty lays over you again and his hard cock presses into your need. You scratch your nails up his back and he jerks, bucking into you. A moan leaves both your mouths. He tries again, artless, just off your clit.

“Oh,” he whispers, mostly to himself. He does it again, building and building heat inside of you, yet never relieving.

You huff. You sneak a hand between your bodies, moving your thong aside until he slips under it.

Another boy would have taken the opportunity, would have buried inside before you even had time to nod, but Matty doesn’t even think of it.

He humps your wet cunt, tucked tight under your underwear, hem pressing his length. Matty moans every time, quickening, desperate. He tilts his hand to better see as his cock bulges the cloth, a wet patch forming where his precum stains.

“Fuck.”

And it’s better; he’s faster, and firmer, and mostly there. He follows your little puffs of shameful breaths, staying where they transform into slack moans. Pleasure starts waking up inside your belly, sickly warm.

But you’ve had boys hump at you before, had them bucking between your legs. You know it’s not what will get you off. You need your mind stimulated, to be so thoroughly hot and desperate you finally let yourself go.

You pinch the nape of his neck, making him look at you. A slack, messy smirk lays on your lips. You tease, “Have you ever thought of me during our tutoring sessions?”

Matty’s hips stutter. He looks away. “Like…”

“Yeah, like, on my knees.”

Matty blushes. “Well, yeah.”

You grin, too pleased. A deadly smile, hunting. “When?”

“I don’t know…” He mutters. You scowl to yourself, and maybe he senses that, because his chin grazes your shoulder and he admits shamefully, “When you ate that popsicle. And you licked and you slurped and you sucked and, just— I’m a guy. I had visions.”

“I had visions.” You imitate, mocking. You tsk, “You're such a nerd.” You roll your hips back against him and a whimper buries in the skin of your shoulder. “Was it how you imagined?”

“Better.” He nods fervently. “So much fucking better. I actually died, I think. Still unsure whether I’m dead or not.” Pride and power makes your head loose, makes pleasure ripple through your flesh.

You claw at his skin, warning dangerously, “Tell anyone and you will be.” All it does is make him moan, bucking faster against you. Your toes curl. You breathe in his ear, “Tell me more.”

“I, uh— Shit.” The tip of his cock burrows in your underwear as he slides, wet and slick from you. He shivers over you. “I’d think about— bending you over the desk.”

Your smile ghosts your face, grazing his soft, fresh cheek. “Really?”

“Just, you know, when you wouldn’t listen. And you’d pop that chewing gum, and you’d ignore me, and you’d be mean.”

You smirk, clicking your tongue. “So you wanted to, what, toughen me up? Take your revenge?”

His cheeks redden. “No.” His lips brush your shoulders, and he kisses, opposite. “I don’t know. I wanted you to pay attention.” He licks your neck. “I wanted to make you scream.” Mouths at your jaw. “I wanted to fuck you. Or for you to fuck me— I wanted you.”

You can’t believe you’re now the one blushing. You pant, glad he’s buried in your throat, that he can’t see. A moan slips from you as he nips gently at your skin. Your eyes roll in your skull.

“You like when I’m mean to you?” You tease meanly, out of breath. You scratch his back, burying your hand in his hair, and tugging until he looks you in the eyes. “Gets you all bothered?”

Matty shivers, whining, “Fuck, please—”

You push him onto his back, rolling over. Two hands press into his chest, and you might very well concave his ribcage. You stare him down, divine. “You wanted me to fuck you?”

His messy, unbrushed hair falls around his head like a halo. He’s sweet enough to make your head spin. He watches you openly behind the glass of his specs, breathing, “Yes.”

You trail your fingernails on his hard cock, down to his base. “And now?”

Devoting, “Yes.”

A rush of thrill fills you. You kneel up, shimmying your underwear off. Matty gasps at the sight, raking a hungry gaze up and down your body. He holds the sheets of your bed with white-knuckled fingers.

You waste no time, rocking your cunt against his tip once, twice, before slowly lowering yourself on him. You inhale at the stretch. Matty’s eyes shut, whining. “Look at me,” you order, and he listens.

His eyes flash open. He blinks at you as you bottom out. His head rolls, shaking. “Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” You go to move up, but he holds your hip down. He takes deep breaths. “Can we— Just, this is—”

“It’s okay,” you whisper, taking his hand and placing it over the regular beating of your heart. He thumbs your nipple while he’s there, breathing in sync with your pulse. You slowly roll your hips on him.

Matty moans, gripping the flesh of your thigh. You let him adjust to the feel of it, rocking softly, dragging your clit on his pelvis. You bite your lip raw as pleasure blooms inside of you. Your thighs ache to go faster, harder, but you maintain the delicate pace for him. Just that has him shaking under you, and you once again grip his hand over your heart to ground him.

“Sorry,” he says with an embarrassed laugh. “Fuck,” is immediately added when you circle your hips, his eyes rolling. “Fuck, sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” you order. “What are the other reactions?” You say, attempting to drag him out of his anxiety-filled head. He frowns at you. “Of enzymes.”

His lips part. “I didn’t know you knew that term.”

You roll your eyes, then your hips, euphoria fizzling under your skin. “I listen to you.” His unconvinced look betrays him. “Sometimes.”

“They’re, um— Shit. They come together to create one— fuck, one larger molecule or—” You finally rock faster, angling your hips to have him bury inside you right where you need him. You moan, chest rising and falling quickly. Your legs grow desperate; you chase that sickly pleasure.

“Yeah?” You encourage him on, seeing his own pleasure resonate in his face. He bites his lip, pawing uselessly at your thigh. “Or?” You’re out of breath.

“Or swap pieces,” he finally finishes between two moans. Chuckles, “Actually, pretty much all biological reactions you can think of probably—” Your hips fall harsher on him and he loses his train of thought, overwhelmed. You smile, setting a wild pace, completely unfair.

“Probably what?” You say, teasing, “I’m always thinking about biological reactions.”

“Don’t tease,” he pouts, and you slow down your thrusts just to spite him. He whines, pressing his short fingernails into the skin of your thigh.

“Come on.” You make him look you in the eyes, mocking, “Educate me.”

“They all have enzymes,” Matty finally finishes. You reward him by reaching down and pinching his nipple. He whimpers, cursing your name. “Why have you suddenly decided to be a good student?”

“‘Cause you’re adorable when you’re struggling to find words,” you answer honestly. You hold your weight up on the hand pressed into his chest, angling your hips until your clit rubs and rubs his pelvis. Your eyes roll, fucking him quicker. “Fuck. I love when I can make you all stupid for me.” The power in changing up his DNA composition, making a smart boy incapable of remembering all the jargon you yourself don’t know, is addictive. Undoing him block by block until he’s putty in your hands. Matty just moans, not arguing.

Sweat pearls his forehead. The white sheets make him angelic. He breathes your name, fluttering his eyelashes at you. “Can I try on top?” Maybe it’s because he looks so reverent, so innocent, that you nod.

Matty doesn’t push you and roll you over, instead staying there, as though waiting for it to just magically happen. You giggle to yourself, unmounting him and falling back on the mattress, legs parted. He swallows thickly, laying over you.

His glasses fall down his nose and you laugh, grabbing them and carefully placing them on your nightstand. He blinks, adjusting to the blurry sight.

His hand shakes as he grabs himself and lines up. He misses once, twice, until you rest a soothing hand on his and guide him. Matty moans in your hair as he slides in. He stays in your wet heat for a second, catching his breath, before he thrusts.

And it’s bad, of course. He doesn’t have any rhythm, bucking blindly inside of you. It’s a strange pace, irregular and powerless. He certainly can’t find any type of mindnumbing spot. Pleasure simmers lowly in your belly, heat turned off almost to nothing if it weren’t for the pretty moans that bury straight in your ear.

You grab his hip, making Matty look at you. “Start slow,” you instruct, guiding him. He follows the movements of your hand, rocking back and forth, slow but regular. “There,” you nod, arching your back. “Just, tilt—” He repositions himself, eager to learn, and you shudder. You call his name, syrupy with moans.

He’s a fast learner, following diligently the guidings of your gripping hand. He fucks into you slowly, but surely. Your toes curl. Pleasure wakes up again, coiling in your belly. “Like this?” He breathes. You nod, encouraging him on.

“It’s like I’m tutoring you,” you remark, chuckling to yourself. Matty snorts. “I like being the smart one for once.”

Matty frowns. “You’re always smart.” He says it without thinking, because he means it. Something wet chokes your throat, tugs at your lips. “You just don’t listen.”

“Would you like me to?” You say, tone taunting. A self-destroying instinct, telling you to hurt, to ruin. “Make me your little pet? Be all obedient? Have me sucking your cock while you tell me all about biology?”

His eyebrows furrow. “Do you want me to do that?” All your bullets don’t land. He’s unconcerned on what he wants. You huff.

Instead of reckoning, you order, “Faster, now.” Matty nods against your cheek. He obeys, thrusting quicker. You let go of his hip, climbing up his back just to rake your nails down it. His hips snap faster, harsher, endeavored. You grin, licking his jaw, kissing the bone.

“Fuck,” he whimpers, catching your lips and kissing you. You wrap your arms around his neck, trapping him there as he ruts between your legs. You swallow all the sounds he makes, kill the swears you think of saying. Euphoria washes you.

He leaves your lips just to smack wet kisses over your face, again and again. On your forehead, your cheeks, your eyelids, your chin. He mouths down your throat, starts sucking and nipping at the side. You bury a hand into his hair, pushing him further down. “Not the neck,” you explain, breathy.

Matty finds the side of your tits and he buries there, sucking at your skin. You arch into his mouth, pleasure rushing up your side at the pinpricks of pain. He moans against you, bucking faster. Your mind spins and spins. “Matty.” Again, he speeds up, harsh and wild. “Fucking hell, Matty.”

You tug at his hair and he releases you, lips wet and swollen. He pants over you, eyes dazed with pleasure. A new wave of heat strikes you just from the sight of him, unmade and wild. You sneak a hand between your bodies. You find your clit easily, rubbing.

Matty’s head drops to watch you. He whines, seeing where he disappears inside of you, over and over, where your pink nails swipe at you.

He leans his weight on one arm, joining his own hand with yours. You’re surprised at the act, at the willingness of involving himself in the complicated business of your pleasure. Your fingers stop, resting up on your stomach.

He paws blindly at your cunt, just a little off where you need him. You grip his wrist, angling him at the right place, gently circling and swiping with his finger. The callus presses on your clit and it’s a delicious sensation. You roll your eyes, crying out, then slapping your palm over your mouth. Matty grins proudly, continuing to rub at you.

“This is good, right?” He whispers, pretty eyes all vulnerable on you.

You nod frantically. “Yes. It’s good.” You melt on the sheets, parting your legs further. “It’s really good.” His cheeks flush at the compliment. You wrap your hand around his throat, resting there with silent ownership. “Did you ever think it’d be me?”

Matty chokes on a laugh and a moan. “No. I never thought you’d ever even give me a look.”

You hum, pleased with the answer. He realizes it’s a privilege. You grin, pressing your fingers on the sides of his neck. His hips stutter, then snap even faster, a broken cry leaving him. His lips part in quiet ecstasy. His eyes shut, rapid movement behind his eyelids.

You grin at him. “Say thank you, pretty boy.”

You release him, at least giving him a chance. He falls into your shoulder, taking deep inhales, shaking. “Thank you,” he says, mumbly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” You rake through his hair, soothing. “Aw, fuck, I’m gonna—” He twitches inside of you.

“Not inside!” You shout. Matty gasps, thrusting out of you. He cries as he comes on your navel and cunt. He catches his breath, blinking himself back to this reality, still shaking.

“Sorry,” he says, shortwinded. A pang of disappointment hits you. It’s not like you’ve ever come with someone else before, but it had felt really close this time.

At least Matty tried.

Matty watches his cum painted over your skin, catching your piercing, mixing with the slick of your cunt. He moans to himself, then bends down between your thighs.

You rest on your elbows, frowning. “What—” He licks a stripe over your cunt, tasting both your juices. Euphoria strikes through you. Your back hits the mattress as you fall back, legs shaking. “Matty.” He hums, faraway, licking and licking to clean you all up. You bury a hand in his hair, grounding him in place.

He finds your clit, rubbing it with the tip of his tongue, circling then sucking it. You jolt on the bed, biting back a scream. You frown to yourself, tugging on his hair, fire boiling inside your stomach. What the fuck.

He laps at you, moaning every time your nails scratch his scalp, the sound vibrating against you. A hand wraps around your thigh, keeping you open for him. He devours you eagerly, hungrily, until you’re a mess melting into his mouth.

“God, Matty,” you cry. You have to actually hold back another one with a slap of your hand, shocked at yourself as you scream into your palm.

Matty stops, breathing harshly, and you throw a glance down in question. He climbs up your stomach, lapping at your skin, cleaning the last of his cum. You whimper at the dirty sight, desire drumming down your limbs.

He throws you a hot look. Tongue out, full of white cum. He goes back between your legs and buries it in your cunt, fucking it in. You jump, cursing to the ceiling. Matty laughs, greedily tasting you.

You roll your hips into his face, hitting the tip of his nose on your clit. Every strike has ecstasy resonating in your bones. You feel light on your bones.

His lips wrap around your clit. He sucks, grazing a tongue, swiping and circling like you showed him. You recognize the same pattern, recognize the rhythm. Of course he’s a fast learner.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant, choked by your hand. You raise your hips into his mouth, silently begging. Your legs shake, desperate. Pressure pushes at your belly. Your eyes roll. “Don’t stop.”

He mumbles something in your cunt, probably a promise or a praise, dutifully not stopping. He laps and eats and fucks until your brain melts into your skull, dripping down your spine.

“Oh, fuck, I’m—” Your head shakes fervently. “Just stay— Shit, Matty, just— I—” The pressure snaps and you come on his readied tongue, screaming. Hot white flashes in your vision. Relief washes you, dipping to every crevices, relaxing you. He moans against your cunt.

Matty continues to lick you, mission-bound, until your lungs are on fire and you physically push him away. He smiles up at you, chin sticky and wet and red. He wipes it, kneeling.

“Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?” You say, shortwinded, shocked to your bones. You stare at him like he’s grown a second head.

It’s the first time someone other than your knowing hand made you come. And it’s fucking Matty Healy. You blink at him.

“What?” He laughs, falling beside you on the bed.

You gesture vaguely downwards. “That.”

“Oh,” he blushes. Shrugs. “I don’t know. I researched it once.”

“You— Oh, my God.” You stare at the ceiling in disbelief. “Oh, my God. You’re such a nerd.”

Matty grins, cheekily proud. He gently grazes the bruise he left on your breast, the splotch of red that will darken, be a leftover trace of him.

“Thanks,” he says simply.

“You’re welcome.” You shift your legs, feeling the wetness still between them. “Thanks to you too, I guess.” He grins, hiding in the white pillows.

He gives you a look. “Will you listen when I tutor you now?”

You smirk mischievously. “Maybe if you have my fingers in your mouth.”

“Oh,” Matty says, eyes wide. “Will you— Will this happen again?”

You make a noncommittal shrug, though a more definite answer hums in your heart. “Maybe if you’re really good.” You smile to yourself. “Or really boring, and I need to shut you up.”

“You can shut me up any day.”

“I know.” You linger in that moment for just a second more, eyes locked together, smiles tickling your lips. Then you sit up, reaching for your underwear. “Session’s almost done.”

Matty nods, lips thin. “Right.” He pats the nightstand for his glasses.

You dress yourselves, wiping away sweat and cum, brushing wild strands. You give an awkward goodbye, incertain, and Matty slips from the room. You don’t follow him to the door. You never do.

Downstairs, you hear your parents thank him and give him a crisp 50 dollar bill. You giggle to yourself and fall on the bed, bone-deep exhausted.

#happy Day after me show day<33 #tutor!au #matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #matty healy #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy imagine #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fic #smut #writing #imagine

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yourplayersaidwhat · 3 months

Text

Turns out the Cleric is quite serious about religion

Context: I'm playing a deep gnome monk/cleric, who worships Umberlee. The Umberlee part never really came up, until last session.

Me: So we're chartering a boat across the ocean?

Fighter: Yup.

Me: We're getting on now?

DM: Yes.

Me: Great. I walk over to the side of the dock and upturn my entire gold purse into the ocean.

Rogue: WHAT THE FUCK!

Me: I must pay tribute to the great queen of the sea.

Wizard: Oh dear lord you worship Umberlee. This explains so much.

*Later*

DM: You see one sailer is attempting to cut his hair with a knife.

Me: Can I stare at him in a way to intimidate him to stop?

DM: You do so, and he sees you. He is throughly creeped out by this.

Me: You dare offer tributes to Sune while in the Stormgoddess's domain.

Fighter: You know we never saw this side of [my character] before and I don't like it.

*Later*

DM: So after this pirate skirmish you find the captain has fallen overboard.

Wizard: Oh shit. Hey [My character] your a strong swimmer right? Can you rescure him?

Me: And disobey the Wavemother's will?!

Wizard: Ok, I'll figure something out.

Me: Do not harm her sharks.

Wizard: Of course there are sharks.

*Later*

Rogue: Damn waves that high we are bound to capsize and drown.

Me: And thus you've sealed our fate. As the Sea Queen demands.

Rogue: YOUR NOT SUPPOSE TO BE THE CREEPY ONE! AND HOW DO YOU HAVE ALL THESE TITLES MEMORIZED!?

Me: *Laughing* *Holds up the pages of wiki pages I've printed out about Umberlee* I've come prepared!

#shit my players say #rpg #submission #shareable #dnd

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stariikis · 13 days

Text

ni-ki as your study date •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

synopsis ; the price you paid for choosing an athletic boyfriend over an academic one? no practical help when you're drowning in mysterious equations and symbols. but at least he's good at comforting the perfectionist in you.

pairing ; athletic!nishimura riki x academic achiever!reader genre ; fluff, established rs wc ; 802 warnings n notes ; dear readers, these two are mentally suffering because one doesn't care and the other cares too much! trigger warning, bio phys chem and math mentioned..

“-And during PE we played badminton, and Jake hyung was soooo bad today. He kept trying to smash but missed the shuttlecock.” Beside you, with his “I-swear-I’ll-finish-three-chapters-today” Physics textbook hardly opened to the first page, Riki doesn’t stop rambling about the various sports he’s played today. You’ve heard enough about the goals he scored during an impromptu morning game of football. The way his best friend fumbled during a badminton match. How his legs ache from standing in the sun for hours during baseball training. You’re about to tug him out the cafe by his jersey.

“Are you going to start your notes or what?” You shove him with a lighthearted tone, barely concealing the exasperation behind your words. “All that talk about wanting to finally get an A but you still keep yapping. About sports, no less.”

Riki rolls his eyes and mock-salutes in your direction. “Yes, ma’am.”

Taking a sip of your matcha latte, you sigh resolutely and return to examine various electronic configurations. Perhaps now, Riki will leave you in peace…

Only five minutes later, you’re snapped out of focus with a sheepish nudge.

“What’s a moment…” “OH my days Nishimura Riki how can you not know what a moment is that’s like basic physics you’re supposed to have known that since we started chapter TWO.”

Shrinking under your scoldings, he glances back at his textbook, reads the definition and looks back towards you. “I don’t get it.”

With another heavy sigh, you scoot closer and attempt to explain as simply as you possibly can. However, he’s deliberately distracting you, with playful caresses through your hair and touches of kisses as smooth as silk on your cheek. You’ve got to be turning a beetroot red, but you ignore the warmth spreading through your cheeks and continue on.

“Now repeat what I just said to you.” Refusing to give in to his silly antics, you cross your arms and lean back. Swiping the hair his fingers touched, not too long ago, out the way.

He pouts, knowing him acting cute is your soft spot. “That’s not fair.”

“Why?” You press, but relent and hunch back over your notes. “You know what, just focus on relearning your balanced forces. Do you remember what the principles of moments even is?” Oh wait, he doesn’t even know what a moment is. The way he blinks once at his textbook and blinks twice your way proves this.

“At this point, I’m not dead, you’re more cooked than I am. And I am cooked.”

Gasping scandalously, he whisper shouts, “You’re literally my academic goal, what are you on? I wish I had the motivation you did. Okay, more like I wish I had your grades, but we both know that’s not happening.”

He gestures to all the bruises he’s obtained over the past week, scratches and wounds that demonstrate how dedicated he is to all the sports he partakes in. They’re his own personal souveniers. Although most fade quickly, some leave scars burning in his skin, but he’s proud of them all even when you express your concern for him.

He’s always been like that. Dismissive of concerning matters because he enjoys showing people how strong he is. Internally and externally. The complete opposite of him, one Maths question you get wrong and you start questioning the very bane of your existence.

You fall into silence, looking back at your notes. You have lost track of where Chemistry starts and ends, your paper copy of the periodic table crumpled and defaced from your bursts of frustration. You may not show it, but there’s so much going on in your head it’s hard to escape the fog you’ve mentally put yourself in. With the crazy STEM course you’ve chosen, you know that you’re definitely on the train tracks with a sign pointing towards a crash site.

Either you shut yourself out and pass with flying colours, or you enjoy life and fail miserably. There’s no in between. Is it so hard to want to maintain a social life and a healthy relationship, while topping your class and achieving high honours? Perhaps it is.

Noticing your sudden stillness, Riki panics. “You’re stressing out again. Why are you stressing out again? You’re doing well. Well, compared to me. Should I just do bio? Things with numbers are always complicated..”

You laugh as he looks back at his noteless textbook.

“Anyway, I think you’re doing just fine.” Riki murmurs, massaging your back with his hand. “Don’t overwork yourself and you’ll be fine. Just like you were, and always will be. Do you want me to test you?”

“That��d be nice…” You smile, watching his eyes light up a little too eagerly when he closes his textbook. “But you’re just saying that so you don’t have to study anymore, right?”

how life be feeling rn, send prayers

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horrorhot-line · 11 months

Text

brontide

(n). the low rumble of distant thunder

➵ pairing: saiki kusuo/female! reader

➵ word count: 3.2k

➵ genre: smut, nsfw

➵ warnings: unprotected sex, penetrative sex, rough sex, hate sex, rough sex, overstimulation.

➵ summary: studying for exams is never easy. add kusuke into the mix and it’s a whole different ball game. alternatively; saiki and you spend the day studying in your dorm room until kusuke drops by unannounced to see you. saiki is not happy.

➵ masterlist (requests are open)

➵ previous part - quell

I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING POSTED BY ANYONE ELSE ON ANY PLATFORM

before you read:

‘saiki telepathically communicating with reader.’

‘reader thinking or interacting with saiki through thoughts.’

“saiki talking without moving his mouth.”

“saiki talking using his mouth.”

notes: i’m still here guys don’t worry, i just won’t be posting multiple times a week like i did before cause of work, i saw this request, well there were two and i thought i’d post this while i still had inspo, as always, hope you enjoy!

this oneshot was requested here and here.

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"No, you don't understand," Apart from losing your mind, there was little you could do when the month of June came around. "Kusuo, I have SPOTS!" Exam season- your number one enemy when it came to skin.

You stared at the handheld mirror, shifting your face from left to right to look at the cluster of angry red pimples drowning your forehead. You swore you could make out constellations from them.

You exhaled through your nose and held back the need to sigh yet again; all the while, Saiki sat comfortably on your bed as he highlighted notes in his textbook. You resisted the urge to grab your phone and order more skincare off of tik tok to solve your predicament, instead opting to grab your own textbook before it fell off the edge of the bed.

The stress alone weighing you down was enough to motivate you to take a walk, but Saiki being around was the only thing keeping you rooted. "It'll clear up by itself," Saiki stated matter of factly, to which you responded by rolling your eyes. "I know that- but what am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

Saiki finally looked up, his blue highlighter pausing centimetres away from the page as he stared at you through his eyebrows. "Study." The fear of spreading the spots was the only thing stopping you from slapping your hand to your forehead.

You rubbed your eyes and grabbed a pen to make flashcards- and an hour passed by in no time.

Your cramming session paused when the doorbell went off. You, knowing Saiki and yourself were the only people home for the weekend, meant that one out of the two of you would have to get the door. You looked up at the psychic with glassy eyes, blinking through the blurriness that came with studying too hard.

He gave you one look before silently going back to memorising the flashcards you had made earlier. You sighed, knowing full well it would be you answering the door. A second chime rang through the house, and your shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine. I'll get it." You announced before slipping off the bed and stuffing your feet into your fluffy slippers.

You quickly walked through the house, shouting, "I'm coming!" when the doorbell rang yet again. You grabbed the keys from your jacket on the coat rack and shoved them in the lock before pulling the handle down. When you opened the door to reveal the person who came calling, you realised it was none other than Kusuke—Saiki's older brother.

You raised an eyebrow at the man in front of you, feeling nothing but annoyance that he had shown up unannounced to your dorm room. Why had he not tried Saiki's room first? "What are you doing here?" Kusuke only gave you a small smile, one that meant he had anything but pure intentions. He held up the bag he was holding in front of you.

"I come bearing gifts." On closer inspection, you realised it was books- textbooks. "Are those...?" You trailed off, recognising the names on the spine of the books. "It's to help you on your finals," Kusuke said matter of factly, and all you could do was stare at the bag, wondering how he had managed to get his hands on them when even you couldn't.

You didn't get a chance to utter a word of thanks- Saiki appeared behind you, pulling you back with a hand on your waist. You gazed up at him and watched as Saiki glared at his older brother, his laid-back demeanour from before completely gone.

'I knew it.'

'Woah, how'd you get here.'

'I teleported.'

'Go figure.'

"Get out." Was all Saiki said, not even greeting Kusuke as he stood in front of you. You stared at the back of his head, the pink engulfing most of your vision, before you stepped to the side to gaze over his shoulder at Kusuke.

The blonde only gave his brother a closed-eyed smile, one that you knew wasn't sincere. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" Saiki only narrowed his eyes at his older brother, and the two started a staring contest. “No.” You could only run your hand through your hair in exasperation, knowing full well that neither of them would yield and look away first.

You stepped past Saiki, banking on the fact that Saiki would read your thoughts- Kusuke would not leave; he would camp outside your dorm room door until you let him in. So you put your hand on top of Saiki's, which was on the door handle, softly taking it off before letting the blonde genius in with a sigh.

"Do you want tea- coffee?"

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You leaned forward to take a sip of your coffee awkwardly. You gazed up from the mug's rim and observed the situation before you. Saiki and Kusuke sat parallel to each other while you sat at the end of the dining table in the small of your kitchen.

They stared each other down, and all you could think was how goddamn quiet it was, save for your occasional sipping. The tension in the room was so thick you swore you could cut it with a knife. One thing that never changed from high school was that Saiki still resented his brother.

You had tried to make small talk, but the conversation had quickly died out, and the two brothers decided to lock eyes for an incredibly long period. You wished to any higher power that would listen- that this was not how you were fated to spend the rest of your night.

The sipping of your coffee halted when you realised you had drank all of it, and with yet another sigh, you got up from your seat- only for both Saiki brothers to look over at you. "Anyone want a refill?" You asked, holding up your empty mug.

You felt uneasy with the sickly sweet smile Kusuke sent your way. You gave him a strained one in response, feeling awkward yet again under his sharp gaze. "I'd love more coffee, thank you." You looked to Saiki, the corners of your lips stretching in sincerity as if to ask him the same question. Saiki only shook his head to say no.

With that, you briskly made your way to the cabinets on the far left of the kitchen. You put on the coffee machine, the whirring doing well to fill the silence from before. You hummed to yourself as you rinsed the cups before setting them on the kitchen counter.

Getting the sugar was always the hardest part of making any warm brew. Saiki had a habit of putting it on the higher shelf; you always wondered why- since you were sure he knew you weren't tall enough to reach it. It was because he liked it when you called for him to help you.

With one hand on the lower shelf, you got on your tip toes and blindly shuffled your hand around so you could feel for the sugar. When you felt someone else's body heat very close to yours- on your back, you assumed it was Saiki coming to your rescue yet again, like he always did. Your eyes trailed to the hand that reached higher than yours to grab the sugar, and you felt a hand grab your hip.

That was when you heard one of the mugs you had set down earlier- shatter, the distant sound of thunder accompanying it, and you whipped your head around to be faced with someone's chest. Saiki hadn't come to help you; you realised as you slowly looked up at his older brother. It was Kusuke that had decided to get the sugar for you.

You recoiled from his touch on instinct, stepping to the side, away from the broken ceramic that had landed on the kitchen tile. You looked to Saiki, whose face was stone cold as he stood up from his seat slowly.

"Get out," Saiki said, his voice icy. All you could do was gulp, too scared to say anything. You had never seen Saiki look so pissed off before. "Come now, baby brother. I was just trying to help." Kusuke reasoned- his shit-eating grin still on his face. "You come uninvited and put your hands on what's mine. I won't say it again. Get. Out."

You were sure Kusuke realised that the young psychic wasn't in the mood for his games today, considering you watched his smile falter. "Alright, Alright." Kusuke lifted his hands as if to admit defeat and left soon after that.

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It had all happened so fast. You had no idea how you had ended up pressed against your dorm's door. Well- you did, but you still had trouble wrapping your head around it.

After Kusuke left, with Saiki practically dragging him by the collar and kicking him out the door, you hot on their heels- he had locked the door to make sure his older brother wouldn't get back in. He then turned to you, his expression cold as he watched you.

All you could do was gaze up at him silently, feeling small as Saiki practically towered over you. Curse you for finding him hot when he was angry. Why did he have to look so goddamn attractive when he was glaring down at you.

You parted your lips to speak but didn't even get a chance to say one word.

Your vision went blurry, and you let out an "Oomph!" when your body made contact with your front door. You inhaled sharply when you felt Saiki's hand lift your shirt before resting his hand on your hip. Curse you for being so sensitive to his touch.

"Why did you let him in?" Saiki asked, bending his head down so it was right next to your ear, and it took everything in you to hold in any sounds when you felt his hot breath fanning the side of your neck. "You know why." You tried to keep your voice steady.

You couldn't lie; you were turned on- and you were sure Saiki knew as well. He pressed his hips into you, and you had to brace yourself when you felt how hard he was through his pants.

Saiki's hand found purchase on your neck, he gave it a light squeeze, and you clenched your jaw. You squeezed your legs, wishing the shorts you were wearing weren't there. You wanted to feel him, feel his skin on yours.

"You let him touch you." A gasp escaped your mouth when he pushed you forward and trapped you against the door with his body. Your head was turned to the side; your cheek felt cold against the cool surface of your door next to your hands. "I thought it was you, that's wh-" You didn't get to finish your sentence; Saiki brought his hand up to cover your mouth.

You had to strain your neck to look at him, wondering what had gotten into him. Saiki's eyebrows were furrowed, and you watched as he clenched his jaw. That was when you felt his free hand make its way under your top. Your thighs clenched on instinct; his hands felt so warm. All you could do was squirm as Saiki traced circles into your skin.

You exhaled through your nose, trying not to struggle as he slowly made his way to your shorts. A muffled moan left your lips when his hand covered your pussy; you could tell he was teasing you on purpose. "Look how wet you are. Is that for him? For Kusuke?" All you could do was shake your head at the notion. You knew, and so did Saiki, that it was all for him. So why ask? A moment of weakness on his side.

You squeezed your eye shut when he rubbed slow circles around your clit. This was torture. You wanted him- needed him inside you, and yet here he was, taking his time. He pulled his hand out of your shorts abruptly, and all you could do was moan in protest at the loss of warmth.

He brought his hand up to your eye level. "You're dripping," Saiki stated, pulling his fingers apart so you could see the clear strings of arousal clinging to his fingers. "I've barely touched you, y/n." You closed your eyes in embarrassment. Damn him and his ability to turn you on so easily.

Saiki grabbed your hand roughly and dragged you to the kitchen. You had no idea what he had in mind. You realised when he pushed you in front of the kitchen counter, his hips going back to pressing against your ass. "Grab the sugar, y/n." Was he trying to rewrite what Kusuke did?

You didn't need to be told twice- the cabinet was already open, so all you had to do was try and reach for it. Easier said than done, considering it was still on the top shelf. You stood on your tip toes, struggling.

When you heard shuffling from behind you and the feeling of your shorts sliding down your thighs, you expected him to shove his dick inside you. What you didn't see coming was him just putting his dick between your legs. Your arousal made it easy for him to move against your pussy. "Don't make me repeat myself; get the sugar."

Now he was just being cruel; how were you supposed to focus with his dick so close to you? You raised your arm yet again to try and grab the sugar with no luck.

"Squeeze your legs together." You could only do as you were told, not wanting to piss him off even more. Every time he rocked his hips back and forth, his tip dragged against your clit. Saiki's breathing sped up, and all you could do was moan. You squirmed against him, wanting him to stop teasing you.

"Stop struggling." Saiki's hand wrapped around your front and pressed his body against yours to limit your movements. His hand reached between your bodies, and every now and then, he'd slip the tip in. You cried out as he edged you, stopping when he knew you were close to cumming- the sugar long forgotten.

Saiki's lips brushed against the side of your neck, his hand still covering your mouth. He pulled his tip out, going back to teasing your clit, and that was it. You couldn't hold back anymore, feeling the familiar sensation of all your muscles clenching as you ended up cumming.

Saiki didn't let you ride out your high, his hand releasing its hold around your mouth so he could grip your hips, shoving his dick inside you in one go. You gasped, crying out at the feeling of being so full. He didn't wait for you to get used to him like he usually would, setting a brutal pace as he slammed his dick into you over and over again.

Tears pricked the side of your eyes, finding it hard to breathe. Saiki grunted, one hand letting go of your hips so he could cup your tits underneath your shirt. When you used your free arm to reach out behind you, placing your palm on his thigh to try and slow his sharp thrusts, he grabbed your wrist, pinning it against on the kitchen counter.

"You're mine," Saiki stated, dragging your body back with his before placing his other hand to make you bend forward. He folded the arm you used to try and stop him behind your back and continued pounding into you. "Take it. Take it," You moaned as he kicked your legs further apart before speeding up.

He slowed down, rolling his hips into you, hitting your cervix every time he did, and you whimpered. He let go of your hip to grab your other arm, stretching them behind you and using them as leverage to fuck you. You cried out his name because that was all you could do.

Without warning, he let go of your arm so he could use his free hand to wrap it around your neck, and forced you to stand straight. With his dick still inside you, he lifted you up with ease and carried you to your bedroom.

Using telekinesis, he opened the door and placed all the textbooks and pens on your that were on your bed onto your desk before pushing you forward so you fell on the bed. "Turn around, y/n. We're not done." You listened to his instructions, turning your spent body to face him.

Saiki placed a knee on the bed, making his way toward you as he gripped the bottom of his shirt before raising it above his head to take it off. He did the same with your top, discarding it on the floor before grabbing your ankle to pull you to him.

Saiki didn't give you a chance to protest (not that you would), lining himself up with your pussy before pushing himself back in. He bent down so all his weight was on you, placing his head next to yours on the bed as he kept thrusting into you.

He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you down so you couldn't leave. You scratched at Saiki's back, unable to do anything else but moan at his fast pace. "I'm close. I'm gonna cum." You clenched your eyes shut, overstimulated. You could feel him in your gut, and it didn't help that he was trying to go as fast and deep as possible.

Saiki pinned your wrist against the bed, bringing his other hand up to cover your mouth. The sound of his hips slapping into yours, his pelvis rubbing against your clit, it was all too much. You came yet again, your thighs clenching at the feeling, but that didn't stop him.

He sped up, as if that was possible, fucking you until you were a mess and could barely think. "Say my name. Who do you belong to?" His hand left your mouth, and you threw your head back, pain and pleasure mixing into one. "You! I belong to you!" His name was all you could repeat, your back arching off the bed when you felt yourself cumming again.

Saiki grunted, trying to get as deep as he could. He filled you up with his cum, still thrusting as he emptied himself inside of you. "Cumming, cumming, cumming!" Saiki rolled his hips into yours slowly, making sure his cum was deep inside you.

You panted, feeling Saiki relax as he put all his weight onto you. All that could be heard was the sound of your breaths. You ran your free hand through his soft pink hair, "So this is what happens when you get jealous?"

"Shut up."

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bonus:

"Hey, Kusuo- what do we do with the textbooks?" You asked, holding up the bag on the kitchen table that Kusuke left for you. Saiki regarded it with one look, of disgust, and turned away from you. "Throw it away."

You furrowed your eyebrows at his remark, "But they'll help with the exams!" Saiki looked over his shoulder before turning back yet again so he could pay attention to the ramen he was cooking for you on the stove.

"I don't care. It's from him. Throw it."

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next part - cause for celebration (coming soon!)

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#saiki x reader #saiki kusuo #saiki #saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #the disastrous life of saiki k.

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byersbootyshorts · 1 year

Text

Not So Smart Now (S.R.)

Spencer’s intelligence and cocky attitude has always infuriated you. So, when given the chance, you revel in putting him in his place.

Word Count: 2,882

EXPLICIT CONTENT MINORS DNI!!

Warnings: sub!s7!Spencer, dom!reader, smut, unprotected sex, hate sex, dumbification, slapping, degradation, alcohol consumption, language

cocky Spencer is so yummy I wanna rip him apart

This case had been rough. The unsub had slipped through your fingers again and again and each time it seemed like he slipped further away. You forced your eyes to focus as you combed through a plethora of files, trying desperately to find something that could link the unsub to his victims. You sipped your coffee like your life depended on it, but not even the caffeine could help you find what you were missing. Morgan was sitting opposite you and he sighed in frustration. Emily paced back and forth going through the case in her head. You were all stumped.

You looked up at the investigation board, trying to give your eyes a rest from the tiny black letters they’d been staring at. You scanned the photos of the crime scenes. All of the women were found dead in their backyard. Drowned in the clean blue waters of their outdoor pools. You raised a brow, your eyes flicking frantically between the photos. The clean… blue… CLEAN!

“Oh my God, that’s it!” you exclaimed, springing out of your chair in excitement. Emily and Morgan looked at you with expectant expressions.

“What?” Emily asked after you stared in awe at what you’d missed for so long.

“All the pools, they were-,” you began, but just as you were about to explain your theory, Spencer burst through the door, not even aware that you were revealing a crucial part of the case, and began rambling.

“Guys, all the pools were cleaned the day each victim was killed. There wasn’t so much as a leaf or a bug sitting on the surface of the water. So, I checked, and they all hired the same pool cleaner.”

Spencer set a file down on the table that contained a picture of the guy you assumed was the unsub that had been evading you for so long. But you couldn’t even feel relief that you’d finally found him. Because you didn’t find him. Well, you would’ve if Spencer ‘boy genius’ Reid hadn’t of found him first.

The team rifled through photos and records of the unsub for a few minutes before Morgan finally asked you, “Oh, what was it you figured out?”

You glanced over at Spencer with a look that could kill before answering, “It doesn’t matter now. I think Spencer’s got it all covered.” Your voice was higher pitched than usual as you tried your best to fake a pleasant tone. You plastered a false smile on your face and Morgan shrugged, looking back down at the pages on the table.

You tried to follow suit, picking up a page printed with the guy’s phone records. You knew the only thing on your mind should be figuring out how to find this son of a bitch. But you couldn’t concentrate. You were literally seconds away from saying exactly what Spencer said before he stormed in and stole your thunder. He did it all the time. And you hated him for it.

The case was solved and the unsub was found. As always, the team congratulated Spencer on figuring it all out. And you allowed them to. One thing didn’t want to do was make a fuss and say you solved it too. But if he smiled that stupid, cocky smile one more time, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to contain your anger. And sure enough, you couldn’t.

You had just touched down at Quantico. You walked with Emily and JJ to the bullpen to collect some things before leaving. Then, as always, you ended up standing around your desk chatting about the case.

“I don’t think I’ve ever drunk as much coffee in a 24 hour period than I did on that case,” Emily laughed.

“It was rough,” JJ sighed. “I’m glad we got him. I don’t know how many pools there are in Florida but if we hadn’t of caught him I’m sure he wouldn’t have run out of victims.”

You smiled. Finally this was something that would prove your intelligence to the group.

“Actually there’s one mill-,”

“There are one million, five hundred and ninety thousand pools in Florida.”

You turned around to glare at who’d interrupted you. Your eyes narrowed when you saw Spencer sitting at his desk. He hadn’t even looked up from his computer before he’d stolen your opportunity to be smart.

“Oh my God!” you shouted, your eyes widening in disbelief. Of course he had interrupted you again.

Spencer turned to face you at the sound of your raised voice. A puzzled expression spread across his face. He was clueless. He didn’t even know he was doing it.

You knew you should just let it slide and say, “Yeah, that’s correct,” or “That’s what I was going to say,” but you couldn’t this time. You were done putting up with him constantly undermining you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you said, almost laughing at just how much of an ignorant asshole he was.

“Huh?” Spencer grunted, getting up from his desk and walking towards the three of you.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing, do you?” you asked. You stepped forward so there were only inches between the two of you. Your eyes stared daggers into his.

Spencer shook his head in confusion, his breath wavering slightly. You pretended not to notice the blood rush from his face and down his neck towards… Nope. You weren’t thinking about that.

“You know what, just forget it,” you said, stepping away from him. “You’re not worth my time.” You grabbed your bag, stormed out of the building, got in your car, and sped home.

It had been about thirty minutes since you’d slammed your apartment door, grabbed a bottle of vodka from your cabinet and sat on your couch, scrolling aimlessly through random TV channels. You drank straight from the bottle, your mind reeling with hatred for Spencer. It was like he had some sort of radar that could sense when you were going to say something impressive. And when that radar went off, he had to come in and ruin everything. He was such a know-it-all. And maybe he did know it all, but he didn’t have to rub it in everyone’s faces all the time.

You took another swig from the bottle and sighed. You had no idea how you were going to face him the next day. Being on the team with him was becoming insufferable. You had to do something to stop yourself from wanting to punch him every time you saw him.

It was just past midnight, but you were still wide awake, when you heard a knock on your door. Your brow furrowed as you considered who it could be at this late hour. You set the bottle of vodka on the coffee table and went to unlock the door. When the door swung open your eyes darkened at the figure in front of you. It was Spencer.

“What is your problem with me?” he asked, not even bothering to say hello.

You let out an uncontrollable laugh of sheer anger at his utter obliviousness. The only reason he should be showing up at your door in the middle of the night was to apologise. And yet here he was, not even aware of what he’d done wrong.

“You are unbelievable,” you sighed, turning away from the door and walking back into your apartment. Spencer took that as an invitation to come in, so he stepped forward and shut the door behind him.

“No, seriously, why don’t you like me?” he insisted. “Because I can’t think of anything I’ve done to you that should make you act like this.”

Spencer’s voice raised and his tone became sharp. You couldn’t believe this. He was angry? He had no right to be angry with you.

“Well, Doctor Reid, maybe you’re not as smart as you think you are if you can’t figure out something that’s so painfully obvious,” you snapped.

“Enlighten me, then. Tell me why you hate me so much,” Spencer retorted.

“No,” you said. “If you can’t see what you’re doing wrong then I’m not telling you.”

“Tell me why you hate me and I’ll tell you why I hate you.”

You paused for a moment. You knew your feelings towards him were of hatred, but you had no idea he returned those feelings. Now you were curious

“I hate you because you can’t shut up for one second to let someone else say something smart for once,” you began hastily, desperate to know what he hated about you, but also relieved to get everything off your chest. “Everyone knows you’re a genius, Spencer. You don’t need to prove it all the damn time.”

“What, so you hate me because I’m smart?” Spencer questioned.

“No, I hate you because you don’t let anyone else be smart. I hate you because you get that stupid little grin on your face every time you say something smart.” You began walking towards him, slowly backing him against the wall. “I hate you because every time I see you I have to force myself not to slap that cocky grin right off your face.”

Spencer stayed silent for a moment. He was almost right up against the wall. Your face was so close to his you could feel his breath. You could also feel something else starting to grow in his pants.

“Well, don’t force yourself this time,” Spencer breathed.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“Hit me,” he said bluntly, his mouth widening into that familiar, infuriating grin.

“Oh, don’t tempt me,” you said, taking a step back.

“No, do it. Hit me,” he said, genuinely.

You gave him a hesitant look but he continued to smirk like he was the smartest man alive. You made up your mind. He was giving you the opportunity and you weren’t going to turn it down. You raised your hand and slapped him hard on the cheek. Spencer whined and his hand flew to his face. He rubbed the red mark that was appearing on his cheekbone but his eyes never left yours. And that stupid grin remained on his face.

“Just out of curiosity, is there anything you do like about me?”

You seriously considered his question. You tried to think of one thing you liked about him. It was harder than you thought. Until you remembered the way his breath hitched when you got near him.

“I like that when you look at me your dick gets hard,” you said calmy, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. “I like that I have the power over you to make you do that.” You traced your fingers over the red spot where your hand hit his cheek. “You might be a genius but you’re still just a man. You have needs.” With your other hand, you lightly touched the bulge in his pants. He swallowed but still his eyes remained locked on yours. “Your mind might be one of the greatest of our time, but your body is just like every other man’s. You say you hate me but your body’s telling me something very different. It’s pathetic.” You pushed him back again so he hit the wall. “I could lower your IQ one hundred points just by fucking you,” you whispered.

“Wanna bet?” Spencer raised an eyebrow.

Without hesitation you slammed your lips onto his. He whimpered as his head hit the wall behind him, but soon he melted into the kiss. You could feel his lips curl upwards against yours. He was fucking smiling. He was enjoying this. That only enraged you more. You pushed yourself away from him and glared at him.

“Come here,” you said, turning around and walking towards your bedroom. You escorted Spencer inside the dimly lit room and turned to face him again. You looked down at the ever-growing bulge in his pants and began unbuckling his belt in silence. He sighed when you pulled down his underwear.

“You know what? I excepted more from you, Doctor Reid,” you said finally, smirking down at his below average sized cock that was now fully exposed to you.

Spencer said nothing, but, for the first time, his eyes drifted away from yours.

“Oh, don’t worry. That’s not a bad thing,” you smiled, wrapping your hand around it. “That just means I can take it for longer.”

You picked up the pace of your hand and Spencer moaned quietly. His head fell to lean on your shoulder and he sucked a spot on your neck. Eventually, you lifted your hand from his dick and began unbuttoning his shirt. When you pulled his shirt off his arms you turned your mouth to his ear and whispered, “I’m going to fuck you dumb.”

You pushed him down onto the bed. He lay there while you undressed, taking in your figure. You climbed on top of him and his hands immediately travelled to your thighs. He stared up at you with that smart ass glint in his eye. He wouldn’t look like that for long.

You didn’t flinch as you lowered yourself onto his dick. Spencer squirmed slightly beneath you, trying his best to stifle a whimper.

“I- I know a ton of other facts about Florida, you know. Not just how many pools there are” he said, his smugness slowly draining from his body as you rode him.

“You won’t know them for long,” you smiled, alternating your pace between fast and slow. Your inconstant rhythm was torturing Spencer.

“It’s state flower is the orange blossom,” he said confidently. “And it’s the flattest US state.”

“Shut up,” you whispered, anger flaring up in you again. You wished you could tear his brain right out of his head.

“It’s also 65,758 square m-miles, making it the 22nd largest s-state,” he continued, his words slowly starting to slur.

You looked down at the egotistical smile that was still plastered on his face, despite his stuttering. “Shut up!” you said, raising your voice. You lifted your hand and slapped him again. Harder this time. The whimper that Spencer had been holding in since you started finally escaped his lips.

And, at last, he shut up. The only noise he made was the occasional whine every time you quickened your pace.

“You masochistic fuck,” you laughed, grabbing his shoulders as your thighs began to burn. “All I had to do was hit you again and you’re reduced to a whimpering mess.”

“Shit,” Spencer breathed. “I- I’m go-.” But he couldn’t even warn you before you felt his cum shoot inside of you.

“Not so smart now, huh Doc?” you said shakily. Your breathing was ragged but that didn’t stop you. It didn’t matter that Spencer was finished. You weren’t.

Spencer didn’t get time to recover from his high as you immediately began to pick up your pace again, grinding harder and harder as his cum seeped out between your legs.

“Why don’t you tell me another fact?” you taunted. He looked as though he couldn’t speak, never mind tell you a fact. “What about an easy one? What’s the population of Florida?” you asked.

“It’s, uh- I don’t-. Fuck, I don’t know,” he stuttered.

“Seems like I won the bet then,” you panted. His hips jerked up and you moaned at the sudden movement. Finally seeing Spencer a pathetic heap below you sent you over the edge. You came without a uttering a word. The sensation caused Spencer to shake beneath you as he came for the second time.

You rolled off him and sighed. Spencer’s chest moved rapidly up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath, brushing his hands through his hair.

“What? Are you annoyed that I made you dumb?” you asked, your voice laced with patronization. He rolled his eyes at you and you turned onto your side so your face was close to his.

“You know, you never told me why you hate me,” you said, running your finger down his chest, making his stomach tense.

“It doesn’t matter,” Spencer mumbled, his face flushing slightly.

“Yes it does,” you argued. “I told you, so now you have to tell me.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment before he whispered, barely audibly, “I hate you because… Well, I-.”

“I can’t hear you,” you said, looking at him expectantly.

“I hate you because I’ve wanted you to do that to me since the day I met you,” he blurted out.

You chuckled, grabbing his chin between your finger and thumb. “Well, if you’d told me that when you met me then this could’ve happened a lot sooner.”

“You wanted this to happen?” Spencer asked, a smile forming on the corners of his mouth.

“I wanted to prove you’re not a genius all the time. The sex is just an added bonus,” you explained.

Spencer’s cocky grin appeared back on his face and in an instant you were reminded of how much you detested him.

“Oh, it’s a bonus?” Spencer smirked. “Does that mean you want to do it again?”

You scoffed at his confidence. “I hate you,” you groaned, as you climbed back on top of him, ready to leave him a dumb, pathetic mess once more.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #sub!spencer reid #dom!reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid gifs #criminal minds #smut #smut oneshot #smut fic

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