The Welcome Distraction
MDNI/18+ --- TW: Blow jobs, face-fucking (lovingly)
AO3 Link
“Everything alright, babe?” You asked, watching your huge, frustrated husband pace back and forth in your small den.
John Price was usually such a level-headed man. His cool exterior shell hid a furious temper underneath, but he was so very careful never to let it show. The hound was always on its leash. Today, though, it was growling — figuratively and literally.
“The wrong fucking intel… how could Laswell let this happen? All those months we spent planning to infil this base — wasted,” he gripped the iPad like it owed him money, the plastic casing creaking under his enormous hand. You watched the tiny muscles and tendons battle against the bones inside of it, remembering exactly how that generous grip felt on your skin.
You knew how to make him relax. Taking his iPad from him gently, you sat him down on the couch and poured him a generous glass of his favorite scotch. It was the fourteen year Oban, and you could smell the salty, smoky scent of apples and ginger, bookended by its signature creaminess. You stole a taste before you handed him the glass, getting his attention with your thievery. Then, you dug a fat cigar from his humidor, something that would smoke for an hour or more if he let it, clipping and punching it just as he had showed you.
Settling him down on the couch, you preened, enjoying his look of baffled confusion. His eyes were still rimmed with some frustration, but you could tell your distractions were working.
You were wearing one of his white button-down shirts as a nightgown, allowing the large collar to hang off of you at odd angles to show most of your skin. There was nothing underneath. He’d been pretty adamant about keeping you in as few clothes as possible when you moved in together, praising you for going commando, begging you to sleep naked, giving you little kisses and treats when he found you under the blankets on the couch with nothing on.
You learned quickly from these sweet rewards, so you knew what he wanted to see. Wearing his shirts had dawned on you like a eureka moment one day, and it had worked like a damn charm. He could barely keep his hands off of you when you had one on, and if you had an appointment or somewhere important to be, you made sure to be out of it before he got home. Otherwise, you would be at his mercy. You joked that he was your wild, untamed caveman; always ready to take his woman at a moment’s notice. He had just smiled and rolled a dark chuckle around in this throat, insatiable.
Gazing down at him now on the couch, you admired the absolute specimen that you’d been given. His wide, hairy chest stretched out his army green tee, the sleeves straining to accommodate his heavy arms. John had the most gorgeous mouth, and as he wet his cigar, lighting it carefully, you let your body reminisce about how those full lips felt against your warm center. Then, his jeans. Every pair fit like latex around his muscular ass and thighs, and the zipper was always tested by his fat, flaccid cock, cruelly stuffed against the fabric commando-style. He dressed to the left, and you could see how his shaft had begun to strain as it grew hard down the side of his thigh, reaching for something warm and wet.
You pulled a pillow off of the couch and knelt down in front of him, making quite the show of pinning up your hair. He watched you like a hawk watches a field, looking for movement and eager to sink his talons into the soft body of his squealing prey.
Then, you focused on him. John was held in your stare, his blue eyes bright and curious. Smoke fell down his mouth and into his scruffy beard like a waterfall of incense, the smell making you feel braver than you had a right to. You made sure he watched you as you plucked the buttons on his oversized shirt. Each loose button let the collar open further and further until finally, the silky cloth fell away, pooling around you.
“What’s all this, then?” He asked, sitting forward with one hand palming his cock and the other still busy with his cigar.
John kissed you, feeling how weak and pliant your mouth was, wetting your tongue with his own, becoming more ravenous by the second. You kissed him back languidly, making sure to keep your affections relaxed, slowing him down gently. You pulled away, smiling at him knowingly.
“Would you like to pick a toy for me, Captain?” You nodded to the end table where an assortment of plugs and vibrators lived. They were stashed all over the house just like the cigars — in case of emergencies.
He stirred at your use of his title, or at your suggestion about the toys; maybe both. But, he played along, bending over to the drawer and choosing an easy silicone dildo, something to keep you company down there on the floor. Your captain held it in his hands and waited for your next move, happy to be commanded for a change.
You let him hold it for you, and you sank your mouth around it, coating it in your spit and giving him a preview of what was about to happen to him. You sucked the head of the toy teasingly, and you let it slide into the back of your throat, coating it in your drool. You heard him let out a low, rumbling sigh, and you removed it from your lips.
You took it from him and slipped it into yourself with some difficulty, letting the fullness of the toy cock settle into you and warm itself with your core. Your little mewls of pleasure caught him like a fire, and you could sense the tension in his body, ready to burn.
Then, slowly, as if you were approaching a dangerous animal — you were — you popped open the button fly of his jeans, letting each button slip satisfyingly out of its hole, revealing the base of his impossibly thick cock. His hair was dark and coarse, curling around his velvety shaft and balls. You took him out carefully, admiring his girth. The rosy, swollen head was still tucked behind his smooth foreskin, and you were eager to slide it out.
You smiled up at him, watching him watch you,
“I want you to relax, John. So, I’m going to let you use me for a while. You can go back to your emails if you want, or maybe turn on the game,” you glanced at the television behind you, “But, I’m starving, and you’re going to feed me until you’re done with that cigar. Does that sound good?”
You licked the underside of his cock while he decided how to answer you. He melted into you so quickly, and he nodded,
“Sure thing, love. Anything you want.”
“Thank you, Captain,” you kissed his shining head and started your work.
Licking the underside of his shaft was one of his favorite parts, so you took your sweet time, softening your tongue and making sure to sweep over his head at the end of each long journey from his base to his tip. You took breaks here and there to suck gently on his large balls, taking them inside of your mouth like the round candy of a lollipop.
He had already started with his moaning, furrowing his brow and taking a long drag from his cigar. You looked up at him, watching the orange glow give way to thick, creamy smoke. He reached over for the scotch and drank, savoring all of the heat and the flavors you’d presented to his palette.
Slowly but surely, as you massaged and sucked and licked and kissed, his body lost more and more of that tension. After a while, he was pliant for you, high from his nicotine, buzzed from his drink, and floating in the river of hedonistic pleasure you had crafted.
In a way, you too had been weakened by him. Having him in your mouth was a challenge, but it was comforting. You suckled from his tip as if from the sweet flesh of a fruit, soothing yourself and letting your mind go blank. You didn’t need to think about anything else but him, and he was easy.
The toy was giving you a delicious amount of feedback. As you clenched around it, you could feel your pussy becoming softer and more pliant, and you could tell that you were soaking. You could even feel it on your thighs, and if you twisted your hips just so, you could make your lips slide against each other, making little wet clicking noises as you fucked the dildo against the pillow. It wasn’t enough to make you come, but it was enough to get you started.
Only when he started to get restless again did you care to speed up your efforts. So far, you’d been taking him only halfway, focusing on his sensitive head, licking long swipes along his glans, letting him fill with blood until he was taut like a bowstring. But, now, nearly finished with his whiskey and about a third of the way through his cigar, you began to notice little clues from his body that he needed more.
His hips would buck a bit when you took him deeper, and if you massaged his balls, his head would fall back and he would let out a deep, roiling grunt. The muscles in his lower belly were pulling and pushing against themselves, now, and every now and then, you could feel a twitch from his heavy rod, pulsing for you and mimicking its grand finale.
But, you knew your time was up when he opened that mouth again. He loved talking you through it, and when he was worked up, he would tell you all sorts of wonderful things. You heard him start in on his praise, generous and enticing,
“Makin’ me feel so good, pretty girl. Seein’ you with me in your mouth… ungh, yeah just like that, baby. Feels so fuckin’ good. Oh, fuck…”
So, you obliged him. You knew what he wanted. It was not the soothing comfort of your slow massages and delicate suckling. He wanted your throat, and he wanted to take it from you. He wouldn’t rush you though. Somehow, for all his fury, John was a patient man. If you kept at your languid pacing, he would swallow his desire and let you continue, happy to be at your mercy. But, you didn’t much like him as your harmless servant. You wanted your cruel master.
You called to him with your efforts, making new attempts at taking him deeper and deeper within you, reaching for his base with your tongue when you hit your limit. As you increased your pace, moving your body became more of an event. The toy cock nestled inside of you was making you more stimulated now, and it was slipping through your fluids, pressing a little deeper into your core as you slicked and clenched around its body. You swallowed around his thickness with your throat, unable to breathe when he was pushed past a certain point, counting down from ten in a steady rhythm, training yourself to take him farther each time.
“Bloody hell, love. Tha’s it, fuck… tha’s it, baby. Fuck, mmm…” You felt him stir, and you saw him set down his glass and the cigar on the end table. He leaned forward so he could see more of your body, reaching out to gently pluck at one of your soft, puffy nipples, pinching it to make it tighten, “You havin’ fun, pretty girl?”
You nodded, not taking him out of your mouth. You were grinding your hips with a purpose, and you showed him what a good job you were doing, taking your hand and bringing back some of your wetness for him to see, holding it out to him like a sloppy gift.
He grabbed your wrist and brought your hand to his mouth, sucking your slick off of your fingers and making you moan from it.
“Ahh,” he sighed, “Make those noises for me, love. Feels fuckin’ good.”
You gave him what he wanted; you would have given him anything at this point, and you watched him come undone. Your screams were vibrating his swollen rod, and when you took him as deeply as you could, you could feel him throbbing against your neck from the inside.
When you tasted the salt of his precome, you knew he wouldn’t be long. You also knew that your role would soon change. His eyes darkened, and his face wore the pained snarl of him holding himself back. Then, when he had enough, he put his hand in your hair and pulled you away with a wet, slobbering pop.
“My turn,” his smile was sinister.
He stood, keeping control of your skull, pulling your hair at the base of your head to turn you so that your back was against the couch. Then, your captain began to command you,
“Fuck yourself with that toy, pretty girl. Tha’s it, nice and hard. Just like that.”
You were pumping the dildo in and out of your body with your hand, sitting on the floor with your legs spread, not caring how cock-drunk you looked.
“Good girl. Does tha’ feel good? Tell me,” he let his hard cock lay against your cheek, leaving little wet trails of precome on your face and in your hair.
“Yes, sir. It feels so good…mmm, fuck…” You whined and whimpered beneath him, showing him your neck, and opening your mouth like a little bird, eager to be fed.
“Pretty girl,” he sighed as he put himself back into your mouth.
Then, he moved for you, fucking himself in and out in a chanting drumbeat, choking you on the way down and allowing you to breathe on the way up. You tried to concentrate, knowing you needed to take every break he gave you, but you lost the rhythm when you started to come, fucking yourself faster and faster to drag yourself over your peak.
“Oh, yessss…” He praised you, “Come for me, love. Come for me, just like that. Nuh-uh, don’t stop. Don’t stop riding that cock, pretty thing. Tha’s it, yeah. Keep it in. Good girl, good girl.”
You were struggling, but you did as you were told, your head swimming and dizzy from your orgasm, straining to take a full breath. You wouldn’t be so lucky to get one, not until he was done with you.
He fucked your throat with intent, now. John had both of his hands on you, one tangled in the hair at the base of your skull and the other holding you tight around the back of your neck, scruffing you like a naughty kitten. It may have been all in your head, but that pressure made you weaker than ever, and he was able to use you to your full potential.
His grunts morphed into longer, arching groans. He was shouting into the echoing walls of your den, growling down at you as he approached his zenith, the warm sun of him burning you up from the inside out.
Then, he found what he had been searching for, and he chased it. His rhythm faltered, and he held your face so tightly to him, clutching you to his center, burying your nose in his fur. Your body started to fight back, needing to breathe. You may have over-acted a little, but you could see that he liked to watch you struggle, so you gave him your tear-stained, pleading eyes and writhed to get away.
“Oh, Christ! Love, I’m... Oh… Oh, fuck me…”
His hips bucked into your aching jaw, and you felt your body fill with his come. The soft, creamy fluid dripped down your throat and into your belly, salty and musky on the back of your tongue. Your whole mouth could feel him pulsing as he emptied himself into you, and you tried to swallow every last drop.
John removed himself from you and aimed to lay down on the couch, using the last of his strength to pull you on top of him, laying you on him like a living blanket. You panted together, each of you breathless.
You basked in your joy for a while, rubbing your hands all over his chest, yanking his shirt off of him so you could be skin to skin. You pet him like a big animal, stroking him and massaging him for being so good to you. You were straddling him, and as his cock softened, you could feel its body against your wet pussy, lolling over to his hip, exhausted.
You whispered to him, brushing his hair off of his sweating brow,
“I’m sorry you had a hard day at work, John.”
He laughed quietly, wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm and held tight to him,
“Tha’s okay, love. It’s no trouble. Everythin’ works out in the end, hm?”
Your big captain kissed you then, tasting himself on your tongue. You could taste his scotch and his tobacco, all of his scents filling your mind with him. His soft tongue joined with yours, playing together in your mouths, lips slipping together and sucking on each other, gentle and soothing. You lay there, dozing together, sated and joyful, happily distracted.
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goodbye gojo~
pairing: nanami x reader
word count: 397
synopsis: gojo loves bothering nanami. luckily you're around to make sure it doesn't go too far.
warnings: not smut, but suggestive. domestic/soft fluffy vibes.
a/n: baby's first jjk fic! lordt has it been some time since i was in anime fandom. i would like to thank/blame @synnocence you know what you did, LOL
“Hello?”
You listened from the kitchen as Nanami picked up a phone call.
“Oh, it’s you. What is it?”
From the tense of his traps alone, you wondered if it was Satoru Gojo, calling out of boredom to get on Kento’s nerves.
“...would I…would I like to enjoy a sack of nuts?” Nanami exhaled exasperatedly.
Yep. Definitely Gojo.
You smiled and set your mugs of tea aside for the time being. You adored Nanami, truly, you did. Sure, he was maybe a bit tightly wound, but that just made it all the more a delight when he finally snapped. Let loose.
“Gojo, for the last time-,” Nanami had just started when you plucked the phone out of his hands and tipped his head back towards you. “Oh?” his eyes softened as he rested his head against the back of the couch and looked up at you.
“Hello Gojo,” you spoke playfully into the phone as you leaned forward to press a soft kiss against Kento’s neck.
“Oh, YN!” Gojo’s voice picked up excitedly.
“Gojo,” you interrupted him gently, “Please refrain from calling my Nanamin for trivial matters. As you are aware, today is his day off,” you murmured, lips nuzzling across the taut skin of Kento’s neck. Your tongue traced along his pulse and your teeth nipped gently at his tendons.
Nanami inhaled shakily as he slid his hands around the back of your neck, pulling you closer.
“My Nanamin?!? I’ll have you know-,” Gojo launched into a speech.
You felt Nanami's Adam's apple bob under your lips in a throaty chuckle.
“Goodbye Gojo~,” you giggled as you ended the call and Nanami hauled you over the back of the couch and onto his lap.
You straddled his waist and nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. His breathing grew ragged and shallow as you continued your onslaught from his neck down to his collarbone and chest.
“You’re going to leave marks,” he chided, but it was gentle.
When you pulled up to look at him, you were struck by the light flush of pink across his nose and cheeks. Goodness you adored him.
“I suppose I shouldn’t, hm?” you smiled at him. “You’re already never going to hear the end of it over ‘my Nanamin’.”
Nanami grunted and stood, picking you up easily. Hearing you call him 'yours' for a second time made it hard to care about what teasing would inevitably happen when he saw Gojo tomorrow.
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Intoxicated
Summary: A drunken confession to your best friend leads to more than you expected.
Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x F!Reader
W/C: 3.3K
Rating: Explicit, 18+ only. Semi public sex (fingering), spitting kink, alcohol use, voyeurism and dirty talk (Jake has a smart mouth). Some themes are untagged. No descriptions are given to the reader but there is mention of public hair.
A/N: This only took me three months to write but here we are. I am once again incapable of writing straight smut so sorry about that. Thank you N, @mayhem24-7forever and @wildbornsiren for looking this over and @colewrites for my beautiful banner!
Masterlist ♡ Top Gun Masterlist
The outside of the bar is dark with an unremarkable facade, but as soon as you pass through the front door you’re greeted by warm air and the low crackle of an old jukebox. It’s crowded, buzzing with a kind of relaxed energy that puts you at ease despite your nerves. You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, searching for Jake and coming up empty. Uncertain of what to do, you shift your weight from foot to foot until the door behind you opens again. A boisterous group of men push inside, bringing in a blast of crisp fall air with them.
With no other choice but to move, you step further into the room, head for the bar and slide into an empty seat. This isn’t your normal scene, the decor is dated and the air hazy, but the dim lighting and dark corners are perfect for what Jake has planned. Your skin warms at the thought. Too much whiskey and a late night at the Hard Deck had you spill your guts to him.
As always, Jake was there to listen. You’d been friends since childhood and even when he joined the Navy and the years stretched on, your friendship remained. Of course, you nursed a crush on him when you were younger. How could you not? He was handsome and charismatic. Even though those feelings waned as you grew into adulthood, every once in a while Jake would look at you a certain way or flash a particular smile and it would all come rushing back.
“This seat taken?”
You look up, some of the anxiety leaving your body when you meet a familiar pair of green eyes. Jake always looks handsome but doubly so tonight with a light stubble covering his chin and his golden hair tousled into loose waves. The sweater he wears is a pale green, clinging to his chest and the curve of his biceps. All the moisture in your mouth seems to evaporate and you don’t even realize you’re staring until he clears his throat, drawing your eyes back up to his face.
“W-wide open,” you stutter.
He smirks, dragging the chair close enough to yours that when he sits, your thighs touch. “Can I buy you a drink? You look a little lonely,” he says, laying an arm over the back of your seat.
Even though he’s not quite touching you, his nearness sends a wave of heat through your whole body. You look away, gathering the words you want to say but when you look back, he’s even closer and they slip away.
“Jake…” You’re supposed to pretend like you’re strangers, it was part of the fantasy, but now you just feel silly.
“That’s not my name, sweetheart,” he tells you with an arched brow. “Now come on, don’t be rude. You look like a white wine kind of girl.”
“Sure,” you conceded, letting him flag down the bartender for your drink and ordering himself a beer. Alcohol will help settle your nerves, something Jake is well aware of. You offer him a thankful smile and he winks at you.
“So, what’s a girl like you doing in a bar like this?” He questions. It’s a terrible line but Jake makes it work.
“I was meeting my friend but I think he bailed on me.”
“His loss. My lucky day,” Jake replies just as the bartender sets down your drinks.
He clinks his against yours and takes a long swig. You stare at his throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he drinks, and nearly getting lost in the way his muscles and tendons move. Something so mundane shouldn’t be so erotic but the sight has you crossing your legs and warmth rushing under your skin.
“Drink up,” Jake reminds you, tapping the bar.
You gulp down nearly half the glass in a fit of anxiety, meeting Jake’s amused grin over the rim.
“Do I make you nervous, sweetheart?” He asks, leaning into your space.
“Yes,” you answer automatically.
Normally he puts you at ease but there’s something in the air tonight, a strange charge that excites and terrifies you all at once.
“We’ll have to fix that,” he tells you. “Maybe something a little stronger than wine?”
“Yeah,” you agree, touching your neck and glancing at the stocked bar. “Whiskey?” You suggest.
“My kind of girl,” he praises, raising two fingers to grab the bartender's attention. “Four shots of Jameson.”
You reach for the first glass, needing it to settle your anxiety and give you the burst of courage to take what you want tonight.
"Unh-uh," Jake chastises, plucking the shot glass from your lips and downing it before you can stop him. You frown, confused but then he grasps your jaw and tips your head back.
When you realize what he intends, your eyes widen and you suck in a sharp breath. He stares at you, his green eyes dark with desire and you nod every so slowly, steeling yourself when he leans over your face and presses his lips to yours. Slowly, you open your mouth and he follows suit, a warm rush of whiskey flooding your mouth. You gulp it down, feeling the burning warmth spread across your chest.
You expect Jake to pull back but instead he tilts your head back even further, kissing you breathless. You grasp at the hand holding your jaw to steady yourself. His tongue is warm and insistent against yours and by the time he pulls back, your vision is hazy and your panties cling damply to your body.
"Took that like a champ," he tells you with a wink. "How about another one?"
You nod, dazed. This time his fingers press into your cheeks until you open your mouth. Jake takes another shot and urges your head even farther back until you’re peering up at him. His mouth hovers close to yours but instead of kissing you he simply parts his lips and lets the liquor fall into your waiting mouth, watching you with those clever eyes as you swallow it all down. He releases your jaw and soothes his thumb over your cheek, pleased.
The bar swims in your vision as he guides you to sit up fully, although it has nothing to do with the alcohol in your system and everything to do with the man in front of you. He stares you down with a hungry look but you don't miss the subtle lift of his brow, his way of checking in on you covertly.
“Peachy keen,” you whisper the agreed upon phrase.
His lips turn up into a Cheshire grin that has your body buzzing. “You’d let me do anything I wanted right now, wouldn’t you sweetheart?” He asks, dragging his lips over your cheek. His stubble tickles and the rush of warm air over the shell of your ear has you whimpering and clutching at his sweater.
“Please,” you beg, eyes fluttering as he kisses the sensitive skin of your neck.
“Tell me what you want.”
The alcohol swirls through your system, warming you from the inside out and giving you the bold words you need to make your fantasy happen. “I want you to take me… here in the bar.”
“How can I say no when you ask me so sweetly?” He questions, drawing back.
You watch him take the two remaining shots quickly and drop a bundle of cash on the bar. He stands and pulls you to your feet, linking your fingers together. You follow him through the crowd. All the anxiety that plagued you before is gone, what remains is a sweet sort of anticipation that makes your body sing. Jake doesn’t stop until you’re at the back of the bar, tucked into a dark corner where both of you are enveloped by shadows and partially hidden from view. He wastes no time in turning you to face out towards the crowd, molding his chest to your back.
“You still want this?” He asks.
There’s no pet name or flirty tone when he speaks this time and the hand that squeezes your hips is light and comforting. This is the real Jake, your longtime friend checking in on you. The care and concern behind his question makes your heart swell and you relax back into his hold.
“I’m sure,” you promise him, laying your hand over his. “Are you?”
“Yeah,” he replies, something different in his voice that you weren’t expecting. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”
“Jake…” Surprised by his admission, you start to turn in his arms but he stops you.
“Don’t,” he requests quietly. “Tonight’s about you. I shouldn’t…” He trails off and sighs.
“It can be about you too,” you promise him, squeezing his hand.
You hear him swallow and take a deep breath. Jake’s never been good with emotions or difficult feelings, leaning on charm and quick wit to sidestep hard conversations. The fact he’s even admitted this much surprises you. Maybe it’s the alcohol or the fact he doesn’t have to face you while speaking that has him confessing the truth. Either way, you’re grateful.
“We can talk after if you want,” you suggest, turning your head to catch his eye. The uncertain look on his face is so uncharacteristic that you have to push down the urge to reach for him. There have been precious few times you’ve seen him like this and know better than to try to make him talk more.
“Yeah,” he agrees with a nod, looking away from you.
You turn back around and stare straight ahead. A beat of silence passes before Jake speaks again. When he does his voice is low and confident.
“Spread your legs,” he directs, tapping your right foot to urge you to widen your stance. He’s a warm, solid presence behind you and his cologne invades your senses when you take a deep, steadying breath. “That’s good,” Jake croons, squeezing your hip.
When his other hand slips below the waistband of your jeans, your eyes slide closed. The light touch of his fingers through the soft curls of your mound dredges a moan from your lips. He seems content to pet you for a few moments before his fingers eventually delve between your lips with unhurried confidence that makes your skin tingle. You rock your hips into his hand and squeeze his arm.
“Greedy,” he chastises. “You let just anyone do this to you, sweetheart?”
“No.” You pant, words catching when he finds your clit and rolls it between his thumb and forefinger. Sparks skitter along your nerves, a rush of pleasure warming your belly. The way his calloused skin catches on your delicate flesh nearly makes your knees buckle. “Bet you do this all the time though,” you shoot back, determined to stay in character and make him work for it.
“No. It takes a special kind of girl to get me here. Shameless and needy. To let me fuck her in public.” Jake tells you. His breath is hot across your cheek and you can feel the press of his erection against your lower back. “Dirty girl.”
“I’m not,” you start to protest but it’s cut off when he slides two fingers inside without even a hint of resistance.
“This greedy cunt is telling me a different story,” Jake whispers, pumping them in and out of you. “It’s begging for more than two fingers. Think she’ll need three to be satisfied.”
You have no response to his smart mouth, just a breathy, pained moan that you fight to keep in your throat as he strokes you leisurely. Every few seconds he teases his thumb against your clit but it’s never the right kind of pressure. You try to follow his touch but a strong arm across your middle pins you to his body and gives him all the control.
“Please, please, please,” you chant, throwing your head back when he pushes a third finger inside.
You feel full to the brim and your cunt aches, sucking hungrily on his fingers. The hand across your stomach moves north and he cups your breast, squeezing one and then the other, making your arch and squirm. Jake pulls roughly at the front of your shirt until your bra is exposed and he wastes no time reaching in and cupping your naked breast. He rolls your nipple between his fingers at the same time his other thumb returns to your clit. There’s nothing teasing about the mercilessly way he works over your tender bundle of nerves or fucks you with his figners.
The orgasm that he’s teased you with rises sharply, emanating from your aching cunt and up your chest. Your hips lift and fall of their own accord, your body shameless in its quest for pleasure. Jake’s calloused fingers move from your chest up to your throat. They rest lightly over the delicate flesh as he keeps working you over and presses kisses to the side of your neck.
“That’s it,” he encourages. “Ride my fingers.”
You’re mindless at this point, headless to the sounds you make or the way your body chases every drop of satisfaction it can wring out from Jake. When you finally come down for your orgasm your eyes flutter open, and the world is hazy and muted. The landscape of the bar is blurred, out of focus until you blink away the tears in your eyes. Jake’s still got his fingers buried inside you, his thumb slowly rubbing your oversensitive clit and sending little shocks of painful pleasure through your nerves.
Your eyes finally focus and your whole body freezes when you meet a pair of warm brown eyes. A man is sitting at the closest table staring right at you. He’s wearing a ridiculous Hawaiian print shirt and drinking from a glass of amber liquid. His thick mustache nearly obscures his top lip from view. There’s a hunger in his gaze that has you pressing back into Jake uncertainly.
“Easy,” Jake whispers, kissing your neck. “He’s a friend. I know you wanted someone to watch.”
You relax at Jake's reassurance. He withdraws his fingers only to plunge them in again. A soft gasp escapes your lips and it’s a fight to keep your eyes from closing. You just came but, God, you’re pretty sure you might be able to go again with the way Jake is working you over and the knowledge that someone’s watching.
“If you want him to go, tell me.”
“No,” you moan, lifting your hips and arching your back as you stare at the man.
You never expected Jake to deliver on this part of your fantasy, assuming he’d just fuck you in an alcove of the bar and call it a night. Knowing he went this far to give you what you want makes your heart so full it almost overrides the other feelings he’s giving you. You watch Jake's friend reach below the table, tugging at his jeans. Even with the hazy lighting, you can see just how turned on he is by the show you’re putting on.
He’s not close enough to hear but he doesn’t need to be, his dark eyes watching your lips part with every moan. Jake tugs on your bra until it slips low enough to expose your whole chest to the man’s view. You keep your eyes open as long as you can, locked with the stranger as Jake roughly squeezes each breast and tweaks your nipples. The fingers buried in your cunt are working overtime to bring you to another earth-shattering orgasm. When it comes over you again, your eyes close and you slump forward, legs weak.
The man is still watching when you look up, passing a shaky hand over his mouth before downing his drink. Jake presses a kiss to the back of your neck and withdraws his fingers. You hear him suck them clean behind you and heat spreads across your face.
“Good girl,” Jake whispers, surprising you by sliding his hand back inside your underwear and sweeping through your messy folds. “I want another taste,” he explains, noisily cleaning them again.
There isn’t much for you to do but try to catch your breath and let him hold you up as his friend watches. Carefully, Jake buttons your pants and pulls your bra and shirt back into place. A hand smoothes over the crown of your head, fixing any flyaways. You know he’ll make sure you’re presentable before you leave but that doesn’t fix how dirty and debauched you feel inside. It’s the feeling you’ve been after all this time. You press your legs together and you touch your throat, taking in a breath.
“Was that what you wanted?” Jake asks.
You don’t think you can speak so you just nod.
“I enjoyed myself too,” he tells you.
“What about your friend?” You question.
“He’s just here to watch, I don’t like to share,” Jake assures you.
You look back at the other man in time to see him nod at Jake and stand before disappearing into the bar. You wait a beat before turning around fully to face Jake. The expression on his face is hard to read but relaxes when you stand up on your tiptoes to brush a kiss over the corner of his mouth. You rest a hand on his arm and smile.
“Thank you for this Jake. I don’t even know how to say thank you.”
“Let me take you home tonight.”
“Just for tonight?” You question, toying with a loose thread of his sweater. It’s hard to hold his gaze, you’re afraid of giving away too much.
"I want you every night if you’re willing to give it to me, darlin," he admits, tucking his finger under your chin and lifting your face to his.
“You want something more with me? Something real?” You ask. Jake looks away, the tendons under his cheek flexing. “It’s okay,” you promise, touching his jaw as a small part of you deflates. “I know you don’t do this stuff. Emotions and relationships.”
“You’re not most women,” he clarifies, looking at you intently. “You’re… you.”
It’s as much of a confession as you’ll ever get from him. Your instinct is to kiss him and promise you feel the same but you know that’ll be hard for him. Instead, you take a step back and grin at him.
“Jacob Seresin, are you trying to ask me to go steady?” You tease.
He huffs and looks away, raking a hand through his thick hair. “Maybe.”
“Well, I accept,” you tell him, your confidence blooming at the way his green eyes cut back to you hopefully.
The smile that falls over his face is beautiful and you reach out, hooking two fingers into his belt buckle to tug him forward. “But first you need to take me home and finish the job.”
“I think I finished the job,” he tells you archly.
Slyly, you drop your hand to cup his obvious erection. He grunts, golden eyelashes fluttering as you squeeze his cock. “Not quite,” you argue. “We can discuss the hard part in the morning.”
“The hard part?” He questions, thrusting his hips forward.
You roll your eyes at the innuendo. “Emotions. The fact you might be in love with me.”
“If you can talk tomorrow, I didn’t do my job right."
"Jake…"
"We can talk in the morning," he agrees, looking serious.
“Good,” you reply, tilting your head up and stepping closer. Jake seems to understand what you want, cupping your jaw and kissing you sweetly.
“Let’s get you home before the alcohol wears off and you change your mind,” Jake says, nipping at your lips and linking your fingers together.
“Think you’re stuck with me now, Seresin.”
“Good. We’ve already established that I don't like to share.” he says, pulling you tightly to him and kissing you roughly.
♡
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Arsenic Green
Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader
Yandere (?)
~1.3k words
In which a certain lord dares think about courting you...
Content Warnings: blood, poisoning, food, biting, side character death
“To our friendship,” Gilbert toasts, his smile unwavering, beaming brightly in cold light. The man seated opposite of him shifts in his chair before too raising his drink to his lips. Absent-mindedly, Lord Bassewitz takes a sip, to then promptly set his cup aside. Slice of lemon sinks under the weight of the turbulent alcohol, yet that is overlooked. He steals another glance at you, so very faithful in his adoration of your every gesture. His mellowed eyes take in your smile with barely concealed elation, a thin veil of dreamy mist setting over his features whenever you as much as concisely reply to any of his questions. An Icarus enchanted by the allure of a sun, he dares to bring your attention to himself.
Tendons give under the knife’s edge, roasted skin willingly parting for meat to be cut. Gilbert rips the pheasant thigh from the roast, claims it for himself. He plates it over silver, eye as red as the finest of Benitoitian wines studiously searching for any signs of change to the metal. Gloved fingers grip the cutlery with cautious elegance. The process repeats, steamed vegetables, smoked fish, minced mint roulades, salads, cheeses and other dishes gradually gathering around his place by the oaken table. He lifts his glass, the alcohol contained within it eagerly dyeing the dining hall walls in splashing crimson. Black leather caresses the fragile stem as delicately as if it was you, not a fraction of him, of his being, betraying his desire to snap it in half.
“To our friendship,” Gilbert toasts, his smile unwavering, beaming brightly in cold light. The man seated opposite of him shifts in his chair before too raising his drink to his lips. Absent-mindedly, Lord Bassewitz takes a sip, to then promptly set his cup aside. Slice of lemon sinks under the weight of the turbulent alcohol, yet that is overlooked. He steals another glance at you, so very faithful in his adoration of your every gesture. His mellowed eyes take in your smile with barely concealed elation, a thin veil of dreamy mist setting over his features whenever you as much as concisely reply to any of his questions. An Icarus enchanted by the allure of a sun, he dares to bring your attention to himself.
Again.
Yet again.
Gilbert could never forget about any of his dear friends and likewise, he does not forget about any of yours or any who dare consider themselves as such. He cannot. You are his. His alone. Tigers are territorial beasts and since you’ve chosen one, you havenot meant to be shared. Not that you truly had much choice; regardless, the dinner must go on, so go on it does, silver shrieking against silver as Gilbert cuts into the fish to then oh so slowly chew the slice, savouring the acidic marinate with obstinate thoroughness. He lets out a hum of approval and you turn your face towards him, candle light casting shadows into any concerned creases that mark the space between your brows.
“Hm? What is it?” he asks, so innocent despite being anything but.
“Is… everything well?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Gilbert brings another bite of fish to his lips. He consumes it slowly, intently, never once dropping your gaze. It is as if he wanted to reinvent the sacrum, to turn the act into a binding vow between you two, an enchantment or a curse that would always return you to him. It slows the time, has the breath solidify in your lungs, passing seconds turning to dust and drying out your throat… And then Gilbert swallows, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple shaking your world. “Are you upset, little rabbit?”
“What? No, no, of course not,” you assure, shaking your head vehemently, long hair bouncing over your shoulders. “I’m enjoying this meeting. Really.”
“Give me your hand.”
The world greys again to then completely fade away. It is just the scarlet, that of his smouldering stare and the one buzzing in your veins, each thud of your heart thundering through your ribs. You are as if hypnotised, phantom hands combing through your waves, pushing them aside to descend over your neck. Frigid breath envelops your skin in white frost, lips that are not there just barely kissing the marks you’ve so diligently covered with make up. You have to obey him, the choice a mere illusion dreamt by your trembling arms. So you do as he says and give him your hand, the pads of his fingers brimming with electricity as they brush against your palm. Gilbert brings it to his face, his very real cool replacing the invisible ghost from before, leather caressing your skin to then grip it tightly, coil around you wrist like a snake.
You are his.
You are his.
You are his when he kisses the back of your hand, when he turns it around and sucks at your wrist until it bruises, and you are his when he punishes you for being so willing to entertain another man. Your nerves sizzle as Gilbert takes your ring finger into his mouth, hot tongue wetting your skin for his teeth to immediately sink into it. Hard. He drinks from you like from a chalice, relishing in your pain and fright alike. You are his, his to do with as he pleases, his to crave loyalty into and his … His… For all eternity. Only. His.
***
Lord Bassewitz is undeterred.
***
Lord Bassewitz is insistent.
***
Lord Bassewitz… still is. But why? Why is it not Lord Bassewitz ‘was’?
***
A tap at a time, Gilbert walks down the corridor. His step has gained a certain spring, a kind of lightness it has not possessed in years. He’s pleased or relieved, or perhaps both – or maybe it is just the sun, so warmly inviting in its bright affection streaming through the tall windows. Regardless, he is satisfied and in this satisfaction he magnanimously overlooks the shivering doors he passes by. All until one.
The cane strikes the granite floor, just short of producing sparks. Gilbert readjusts his cloak, an impeccable smile on his face, and knocks on the wood. His hand moves towards the knob by itself, his fingers turning it without waiting for any reply. They – he – cannot possibly postpone the moment any further. He’s grown tired of that.
Hinges move soundlessly as Gilbert steps inside the room, a speck of obsidian against the carmine wallpaper. He lifts his cane, the walnut floor squelching under his boots. He wipes the soles on the carpet. Gilbert strides forward nonchalantly, almost as if unaware of Lord Bassewitz knelt over a puddle of bloody vomit. Pale-faced, the man has become a mere shadow of himself, shrunken and sunken to the point of being less the phantom that haunted you during that dinner. Not that he haven’t strived for that. After all, he has hoped, craved, to be even as much. Ruthlessly wayward in his foolishness, Lord Bassewitz raises his head. Ignorant, he sins with arrogance.
You, he mouths silently, bloody red staining his yellowish purple lips and soft sheen of sweat covering his brow. Short of breath, Lord Bassewitz can only claw at the ground with his brittle nails, memories escaping his mind with each garlicky huff of air.
“A-Anti —”
“There is none. It’s already too late.” Gilbert sits down in the chair by the window, sinks into the shade provided by the backrest. He relaxes into the plush cushions, one leg crossed over the other and a hand resting on his knee. As if taxidermied, his face is twisted in eternally joyous smile, unreadable save for the scalding cold coagulated in his eye. Gilbert taps away a lively, joyous melody.
And he remembers.
He relishes his memories.
Gilbert recalls Lord Bassewitz’s hand brushing against yours as he brazenly appeared in your path. He remembers his longing gazes, the lovesick sighs, all the questions and greetings that should have never been thought nor spoken out loud, let alone exchanged. He remembers your lovely visage, infidelicly presented to somebody that was not him. He recalls the many days he’s waited and the many meals you’ve shared and the orders he’s issued and that sweetly acidic taste so prevalent on his table ever since you’ve considered straying – and he relishes, he relishes the scene displayed in the room now not only wallpapered in red, almost wishing to too experience the heavenly coppery taste that brought him to this end. Gilbert’s jealousy is the colour of arsenic green, equal parts venomous and poisonous.
And it could have been only him or Lord Bassewitz.
So Gilbert watches.
Until the very end.
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Lavender
summary: jake x (f) reader. you and your boyfriend enjoy each other and then take a relaxing bath with one another.
warnings: penetrative sex, fingering (f) receiving, no plot just straight smut, minors get lost.
my entire inbox has been filled with requests for jake bath scene, it was hard to write but i hope you all enjoy :).
He rocked his hips in a rhythm, rubbing the head of his cock up and down the seam of your slit. Parting you with firm, insisted strokes. The smooth gesture teased your most sensitive places, driving you up a hill of bliss.
His mouth was hot against yours and he moaned against your mouth at the wetness of your arousal.
You ached to be filled.
“Jake,” you gasped, “please.”
“Guide me in,” he said against your mouth.
You tilted your hips and positioned his hard, eager length where it fit with your body. Where you needed it to be. Then, you withdrew your hand from between your bodies and clutched his shoulders. He pushed into you in strong, incremental thrusts. “God,” he moaned. “You feel so good.”
He attached his lips back to yours and began to thrust into you deep and hard. It wasn't long until you felt your climax begin to build. The familiar fire pooling in your belly. You couldn’t wait any longer. You pushed your own hips forward, frantic for more of him, all of him. Deeper, harder, faster.
There.
He thrusts into you and hit the sweet spot deep inside. You flew over the edge of pleasure. You shook and cried out, clinging to his neck as he thrust unrelentingly, pushing you through crest after crest of pleasure. He kissed you as you floated down from the peak. You locked her ankles together at the small of his back and you both continued to move in an easy rhythm.
You brought your hands to tangle in the mess of his hair and then over the taut, straining muscles of his shoulders and explored his chest. You kissed his neck, ran your tongue over his Adam’s apple, nuzzled the light growth of whiskers on his jaw. Loving the taste of him, and all the masculine textures of muscle and scruff and sweat.
He thrusted into you as deep as he could go, moving to grip your hip in his hand.
“I can’t—” he began and you knew he was close.
You shifted your hips a fraction, and he groaned as he slid deeper still.
“I don’t . . . I don’t think I can . . .”
“Cum inside me, fill me up,” you said to him cupping his cheek. His jaw tensed beneath your palm.
Then, with a firm flex of his arms, he shifted your weight. He bent his head, bracing his sweating brow against your shoulder and tugging your hips away from the bed slightly. His thrusts doubled in speed and intensity, and his breath came in short, ragged gasps.
There was no gentleness now, nothing remotely like the tenderness before. He wasn’t patient or gentle any longer, just wanting. Taking. Using your body as roughly and crudely as he needed, relentless in pursuit of his own pleasure.
And you loved it.
You loved this side of him, raw and unrefined. The tendons of his neck and shoulders were rigid and taut.
His thighs slapped against your bottom. He pulled at the sleeve of your chemise, that was never taken off, ripping it and baring your shoulder.
His rhythm stuttered, then accelerated once again. He thrust faster, harder.
You knew you would be sore tomorrow, perhaps even bruised. But you didn’t mind, though you know he would apologize tomorrow.
With a wrenching growl, he pulled free of your body. His cum spilled on your belly, gluing your body to his as lay against you and you kissed and breathed and kissed again.
“Come on,” he said, some moments later, after the high of your orgasm has diminished,“let me clean you up.”
You giggled and allowed him to pull you up. He walked you to the bathroom and turned the faucet on to the hot water.
As the large bathtub began to fill up you turned to look at yourself in the mirror. You were disheveled, your skin slightly pink and puckered. Your ripped chemise hung against your shoulder. He came up behind you, wrapped his arms around you and promised to buy you another one. You didn’t mind, you were used to his rough grabs during sex. You tied your hair up so that it wouldn’t get wet and moved over to the bottom cabinet to find your bath goodies.
You poured oils into the water and stripped down, lowering yourself into the warm smooth water. It lapped on your skin making your warm.
You could feel his eyes on you and turned to gaze at him, shooting him a quick wink. He flashed you a shy smile and rid himself of his clothes, a little too eagerly and slipped into the warm water behind you.
He pulled you flush against him. His chest pressed against your back. The water was warm around you and the air smelt like lavender from the essential oils.
Jake grabbed the soap and began to lather it up in his hands. He rubbed the smooth bar down over your chest and down your stomach. You leaned your head back to rest against his shoulder, his breath tickling your ear.
“Does this feel good?” He asks you.
“Mhmm,” you nod back to him, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. He took the soap bar and ran it over your nipples and your breathing hitched at the sensation.
He rubbed you over and over until your skin began to squeak from cleanliness. You pressed your thighs together at the growing pulsating heat that began to radiate from your middle.
Your breasts rested at the level of the now soapy water and your nipples were awake and erect. The steam had caused both yours and his hair to curl. He placed the soap on the side of the tub and ran his knuckles over your nipples, slowly, languidly. His lips found your neck and your shoulder.
His touch made you mad. You turned your head ever so slightly and captured his lips with yours. The kiss was soft and gentle and did little to satisfy the heat growing inside you. His lips drifted from the corner of your mouth, to your cheek, to her neck. You rolled over so that you were sideways in his arms, like a bride being carried by her groom. In this new position, his lips moved lower down your neck then lower, to your naked, slippery breasts. Beneath the water, his cock began to stir against your thigh.
You adjusted your hips, wedging his length tight against your clit. The sudden contact drew a gasp from the both of you. He flicked his tongue over your hardened nipple before drawing it into his mouth. As he suckled you, goosebumps rippled over your neck and arms. You rocked against the ridge of his cock, dragging your body along his hardness, working at your clit. He detached from your nipple and turned her around so that his chest was pressed against your back. He tangled and twisted one hand in your hair, arching your neck to cover it with kisses.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said as he lifted your waist slightly and nudged at your entrance. You allow him to line himself up and pull you back down slowly.
You moved against him slowly. The water ripples and moves around you. You gripped the edge of the bathtub and his hands gripped your hips. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck each time you moved against him.
He moved his hand to rub your clit in swift motions. You gasp and throw your head back at the sensation. You can feel his cock pulsate and twitch inside of you.
“You feel so good inside me,” you tell him, your voice deep with lust.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
You could feel your orgasm blooming inside of you and you struggle to keep your rhythm over him. He sees you struggle and begins to thrust into you, meeting you halfway.
“Jake, baby, don’t stop,” you say as you close your eyes and clutch the edge of the bathtub so tight that you thought the porcelain would break.
“I’m going to fill you up, I need to watch it drip out of your pussy.”
His words are what took you over your edge. It ripped out of you with a shout and not long after you reach your climax do you feel him pool inside you. He laid his forehead against your shoulder saying your name over and over again. You felt him grow soft inside you and neither one of you moves to remove his cock from your body.
Both of you were breathing heavily and you leaned back against his chest. It was slightly sticky with sweat and his cheeks were pink.
“Race you to the bed?” You look up at him slightly. He was grinning down at you.
“What do I get when I win?” He asked pressing a kiss to your lips.
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The thing about Hantengu...
He's so seemingly weak on the outside, so frail and thin and old but he's so strong. And what makes him a sick bastard is the fact that he /knows/ he is strong. This man cowers in fear even as this horrendous creature yet he went full Order 66 on his wives and kids. He stabbed a blind man to death after he confronted Hantengu about his stealing. He wants you to believe he is weak and vulnerable so he can continue to kill and not get caught. Not because he feels a deep shame for the murders but because he can't handle the consequences that come with being guilty. Could he have a personality disorder? Yes. Absolutely. And the clones are my backing. I have no idea if his malicious tendencies are because he was neglected as a boy or not, but he shivers and cries as though he genuinely doesn't remember committing such crimes. Unless of course he's a great fucking actor, but this is not likely. He may truly be delusional.
His physical manifestation as a demon has eyes sunken further into his head than when he was human, glowing red with yellow irises so small his kanji is hardly even visible. As a human his eyes were still sunken but buggy and all white. No irises to be seen until he widened his eyes in realization at the magistrate who condemned him to death. There's an aura of anxiety that surrounds him, yes, but speckled in pure evil. His appearance is so cold but inside he is burning with a fiery rage and intent to kill. He took the last breath of countless lives in his lifetime and as a demon, he devoured even more, ripping them to shreds like a rabid beast. He is creepy and calculated- his correction to Gyokko with his recollection of how many years since the last summons was quick and it shows in his time alone, he is hung up on power and battle. He WANTS to unleash his young and handsome clones. He WANTS to live vicariously through them completely unharmed. He felt as though his evil was unlimited as a demon, something a human man can not relate to.
I love him because he is complex, dark and psychological. He is a mentally sick man, but god I find him so sexy and I don't know why. It's not that I romanticize mental illness, I myself am diagnosed BPD and DID and there is nothing sexually appealing about what I go through, but Hantengu is remarkably sensual in the way that his mind won't let him survive without making sure you know you've upset him, the way his collar bones show through the V line opening in his silky kimono, his joints and masculine bones exposed through his tight and withered skin... His unruly black hair that rests upon his narrow shoulders, his rugged demonic nails and pointed chin with defined jawline and cheekbones... The way each tendon pulls with every turn... The Adams apple in his exposed neck... Never truly seeing his facial features in the light, never truly seeing all the little details in each line and protrusion... Just an expression of sheer terror. A traditional Oni.
To me he is beautiful. To me he is mine.
I love him.
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How i do stuff | Part 2
Okay so i'm kinda doing this backwards going from the shading back to the sketching but not like i did anything logically ever.
THIS IS NOT GOING TO BE A LINE FOR LINE PROCESS because i am not that insane. Yet.
To be honest the entire sketching process is very intuitive on my part so i don't think i can provide much insight here but i'll try to make it make sense.
It is really not as conscious as the shading.
So first: have an idea to work with
Find a concept i like and go from there.
I decided that i want Vessel to look upwards and a little bit to the side and add some other details (which you are not going to see here yet. We are talking about sketching people here not background or whatever.)
Next step: i try to find a reference image that is as close to the desired pose as possible. It could either be made by a posing tool or actual reference image. Whichever is at hand.
(For whatever mysterious reasons i have a small catalog of IV pics in my head rent free so i actually knew what i was looking for.)
I use reference pictures for a few reasons. For one, they make it so much easier to figure out poses and movements. But more importantly by looking at them i can figure out the flow of the body much more faster than just from memory. They also help with understanding how cloth is draping or the way light hits certain shapes and surfaces. There are a lot of benefits.
Anyway so we have our reference picture:
But i wanted Vessel to look the other way so flipped it. (Zoom in not mandatory but we don't need the rest of IV for this.)
Ye okay i can now kind of figure out where goes what in relation to one and other.
Okay okay okay i know: draw a circle than finish the fucking owl.. no bear with me. I need something on the page to talk about what i do. Lemme explain:
So first i'm starting with the traditional x or cross (blue on the pic below). I usually i orient it in my head that the meeting point of the line is the part of your nose dips right above the nosebridge. Because that is usually in the same level as the eyes. At least how i start, they could be moved up or down later.
So the horizontal line for me is the middle of the middle pair of eyes/eyeholes for Vessel or if there is only one set of eyes than it is the middle line for the eyes. I found it most comfortable in proportion wise for me to start with. (This horizontal line would be the tip of the ears as well if i had ears on here.)
Than i pick where the tip of the nose and the mouth is going to be roughly. Doesn't have to be more than a little dot or line, it is going to be changed later anyway.(pink lines below)
I also pick a comfortable spot on the vertical line where the point of the chin is going to be, where throat starts and pick a spot for the addam's apple.(pink lines below)
Than i make the whole head into somewhat head like shape (pink egg like shape below), because where that ends is basically what i'm connecting with the chin point to find the jawline. (green lines below)
Maybe even add to a line or two for where i imagine the hood to go just for funsies.
What else i do simultaniously with this is finding the flow of the face because where his adam's apple is, will tell me where the neck bends in the movement, the neck curving point will show where the shoulder connects, but also where the tendons are going towards the suprasternal hollow and then where the collarbones start and angle back up towards the shoulders etc. Everything connects to the next thing.
(I also do this for half or full body figures as well, only there i'm trying to find the flow of the entire body. Or more accurately the curve of the spine in a natural or close to natural shape first and then figure out the smaller parts.)
Look i'm not gonna lie, for this to be eyeballed off of even a pretty close reference picture in a way that looks close to natural or makes sense, you have to have a basic understanding of anatomy.
It doesn't have to be a conscious understanding but it has to be there. There are endless tutorials out there to help with this and i highly recommend looking up a few because i know not everyone can learn it just by looking at dancers and anatomy lab videos.
Next step: find a reference for the mask and preferably for the mouth because i'm bad at drawing mouths and i want to learn. If it is moving make it not moving, it helps a lot. Kill it with a screenshot, put it in Paint, bury it in a jpeg. Simple as that.
When i have my mask reference, i'm just trying to find a sweet spot that matches it in a way that feels good. First i'm going for the rough outline of it, details can be added later. It is not going to be a one-to-one to the reference because it is not the exact same angle, but it still helps.
And from here it is mostly just trial end error of putting lines and details in and than erasing them until i reach a state where i can say: yup this is look decent enough and can refine it into a lineart and start shading.
Not much else i could share here about this part of the process because as i've said most of it is pretty intuitive and based on a certain level of anatomical understanding.
(Hopefully you'll see the end result in a couple of days but we'll see how much time i'm going to have.)
Love you all and i'm sorry i can't provide more than this ♥
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Kanagawa, Yokohama, Japan | myg x fem!reader
7th
summary: You and Yoongi go everywhere together.
description: You felt a cold breeze, goosebumps formed in your skin and your body trembled, but what finally made you wake was the cold wet spot in your silk panties. You slowly opened your eyes and found Yoongi completely wrapped with the covers from neck to toe, you lightly gave a whiny groan and tried to pull the covers, still pretty much half asleep, and a little bit aroused giving the state of your underwear. Yoongi wasn’t holding the covers so you were able to cover yourself again, the room was still dark and you decided to cuddle Yoongi from behind, wrapping yourself around him.
a/n: Hello beautiful human, here comes onother one, im so incredibly happy at all the attention i've been getting, i know its not a lot but i love validation and i already have more than a hundred likes total with this little series and i love you, so i decided to treat you with a little smut😋😋😋, double sumt actually, morning sleepy oral and then after lunch in the comfort of your hotel room you ride gamer!yoong after he kept ingoring you cuz he was too busy playing the Diablo video game🙈🙈. xoxoxxo💋💋💋 thx for reading🫶🏼
tw: bad writing, fluff, Min Yoongi, cringe, me, self insert, y/n, badly written smut, just trash, probably more.
wc: 2k.
You felt a cold breeze, goosebumps formed in your skin and your body trembled, but what finally made you wake was the cold wet spot in your silk panties. You slowly opened your eyes and found Yoongi completely wrapped with the covers from neck to toe, you lightly gave a whiny groan and tried to pull the covers, still pretty much half asleep, and a little bit aroused giving the state of your underwear. Yoongi wasn’t holding the covers so you were able to cover yourself again, the room was still dark and you decided to cuddle Yoongi from behind, wrapping yourself around him.
You placed soft feather light kisses to the back of his neck, he lightly stirred and moved positions, he was now half lying on his side half on his back, his neck was straining and you saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, you traced his jaw, which was soft and sharp at the same time, with the most gentle of touches, just using the side of your pointer finger, then the tendon of his neck with the pad of your ring finger in unison with tracing the vein beside it with the pad of your middle finger, and what finally made him half open his eyes and move away from your touch was the pad of your pointer going from the downside of his chin and drag lightly all the way to in between his collar bones.
“Let me sleep, y/n” He said moving your hand from him, the hand that was lightly laying on his chest started to trace his left collarbone.
“You’re so pretty,” You said, and let your hand travel down to his chest letting your finger pads graze over his beautiful milk coffee colored nipples.
“Jagi…” He groaned lightly, he didn’t want to stop you but he also couldn’t even begin to wake up.
“Can I take care of you baby? I just want to make you feel good, show you how much you deserve it,” You started to place open mouth kisses in the spot between his collar and neck, playing with his nipples very softly.
“Hm… jagi,” His voice was soft, deep, quiet, a whiny whisper.
“Is that a yes, baby?” He nodded lazily.
“Yeah, yes jagi, please,” Again, just above a whisper.
You took your sweet time placing a kiss to every spot you could, paying special attention to his previously injured shoulder, concentrating in the little scars the surgery left, his beautiful collar and chest, and of course his lower tummy that sometimes he whished was tighter and hips that he sometimes wished were a little less boney.
“You…are…perfect…in every kind of way yoon,” He melted and whimpered at your words, you placed wet kisses to the already wet spot on his boxers before removing them, he cried when his perfect dick hit his stomach and felt the cool air against himself, you quickly wrapped a hand around him and pumped just how he liked it, extra pressure at the base, the roll of your palm on his head, and your thumb always following the not so prominent few veins in his cock, medium speed. He shivered under your touch, his eyes were still fully close, hands gripping the sheets, slight frown on his brows and lips starting to get red because of how he wa biting them to keep the sounds controlled.
“Don’t hold back Yoonie, I want to know how good I’m making you feel baby,” As you said that Yoongi relaxed and let out those beautiful sounds that made you drip and ache. But he really lost it when you put your mouth on him, sucking, licking, swallowing around him, it didn't matter to him, your mouth, in any way you decided to give it him was worth a piece of heaven. He came, fast, he couldn’t hold back, he came calling for you, reaching out for your hand to hold, shaking, his abdomen and thighs getting firm for some seconds before he went limp, you softly licked him clean before resting your head on his thigh, waiting for him to catch his breath.
You climbed back to the pillows laying beside him and pulling him to you, he immediately found comfort on your covered breasts. He was so soft like this, sleepy, bare, freshly sucked, completely vulnerable, you felt like the luckiest person on earth to get to see this side of him. You held him tight against him and he looked so soft and innocent nothing could’ve prepared you for the sudden finger you felt in your cunt, teasing your slicked folds.
“I want to return the favor jagi,” He said, pressing softly on your clit with a cold figer, making you lightly shiver.
“It's okay Yoongi you don’t have too, and it's getting late, we need to get ready for the day,” You said but trying to get out of his iron grip was impossible.
“I want to do it, and there’s no rush, just relax,” He said and slid down to under the covers he removed your panties and kept you in that side positon lifting one of your legs over the side of his arm and laying his head on your inner thigh, he was also in the same side position but facing your way. You could feel his warm breath on your wet folds and the fact that you couldn’t see anything because of the covers blocking your view made it thousand times more intense when he quite literally started making out with your pussy, you could feel his lips working on yours lightly sucking and tongue tracing your clit, making you shake beside him, on of your hands traveled down to his hair to play with it and you mewled when you felt him intensify his actions, his tongue and lips adding more pressure and the sucks becoming more intense, he was moaning with you, it turned you on how much it turned him on to eat you out.
All it took to make you cum was his middle finger rubbing at your gummy insides, rotating the finger deep inside you massaging that spot only he knew how to reach on the first try, and lapping at your clit with his tongue. The orgasm left you dizzy and tingly, you grinded into his face until it was to much and decided to pull him away and close your legs.
After both of you felt comfortably fucked out after your soft but powerful orgasms you cuddled for a bit before deciding to take a shower together before going out for the day, you where now sitting at a pretty restaurant, sipping on coffee, holding hands, being an annoying couple.
“This is our last day in japan, tomorrow the flight leaves in the morning, not too early I think, but it is a three hour drive, we have to take our time,” You said sipping your iced vanilla latte. You ate calmly not really having anywhere to go.
After your calm breakfast you decided to spend some time at the landmark plaza, it was like the main mall of Yokohama, it was fancy and smelled like wealth, you went though some stores mostly looking, neither of you bought anything, you just looked around, having simple fun with the other.
You were already there so might as well visit the landmark building, today was more quiet, not plans, or itineraries to follow, just the both of you and google maps guiding you through the streets of Yokohama.
“What do you want to eat today?” Yoongi asked you, you had been walking through a very tourist recurred area because of the tower, that both of you found particularly boring, for the last couple of minutes and he was ready to sit down under the air conditioner, have a drink, and a meal.
“Sushi? It's our last day and we still haven’t had sushi,” You said trying to think of more options.
“Sushi? Yeah okay, that sounds good, do you want to look for a place or should I ?” He asked reaching for his pocket.
“I can look for it,” You pulled out your phone and Yoongi's hands returned to his sides. You hummed as you looked through the list of nearby sushi restaurants.
“Mmmm…So I think the best ones are these ones” I showed him the top two of the list on my phone, “Katsu, and Ueno,”
“Which one’s closer?” He asked, a smile on his voice.
“Wait…umm… the first one is six minutes away by car and the other one issss…like half an hour,” You wanted to look at the reviews and pictures, maybe it was worth it, and you don't really have a rush.
“Should we go all the way there?” Yoongi wasn’t sure that he wanted to travel for more than 10 minutes by car but if you want it too maybe he would.
“Let me cheek reviews and that…mmm… I think we should go to the first one, it’s near, good pictures, the food looks amazing, nice area, good ratings, what d you think?” I finally looked him in the eyes.
“Okay lets do that,”1 he grabbed your hand and softly kissed it.
You peacefully ate at the restaurant, it wa busy but you were in a more quiet intimate place so you were able to sort of tune out the rest of the people, it was mid afternoon, Yoongi was enjoying a strong bitter sake, he had talked you into trying it and you instantly regretted it as the unpleasant flavor touch your tongue, you always stuck to your plane good old ice water with a wedge of lemon and a slice of cucumber, you barely even sipped it though to busy chewing the authentic sushi.
“I think we should call it early today, our flight leaves tomorrow at like seven? Was it seven?” I asked him.
“8:00,” He mumbled simply.
“8:00…” You repeated.
“Baby… come to bed,” You said, he had been playing the Diablo IV videogame, all you could hear were some quiet groans and half curses in Korean. All you got as response was an acknowledging hum. You decided to get up from the covers, the room was dark, curtains drawn, the only light coming from his computer. You walked over to him, you were only wearing your panties and one of his big t-shirts, you stood right in front of his computer waiting for him to react.
“Jagi…aish,” He lightly put his hand on your hip and pushed you away, with nothing but gentleness. You moved only to come closer to him, you parted one of his hands away from the controller, you opened his arms and sat on his lap, straddling him, and hugged him, nuzzling your face into his neck and relaxing on the perfect seat. Yoongi pretty much ignored you but still let you do what you wanted.
You placed a small kiss on his neck, he just sighed as a reaction. You kissed more intensely, open mouth wet kisses, a small suck, then a bite, he hissed and you pressed your tongue against the abused area, you pressed yourself harder against him and he softly threw his head back, you felt his half hard dick against your clothed cunt, he was still holding the controller, you could feel it press against your back, but he was far from concentrated on the game. You started to slowly grind against him, still pressing kisses to his neck, thats when he finally let got of the controller and put his hands on your hips, guiding you. You were lightly panting, incrementing your intensity and pressure, your hands where on his shoulders for balance, you looked him in the eye, his pretty deep brown pair struggling to stay glued to yours, lips parted and pink from biting, a light blush on his face, small sweat beds forming on his forehead, he looked angelic. He started to play with the hem of your shirt and the elastic of your panties, you immediately understood what he meant.
You stood up from his lap and pulled the shirt off, then the panties, goosebumps formed all over you, you then hooked your fingers on the waistband of his boxers and he helped you get them off him. His gorgeous cock stood proud, head dark, precum pulsing out of it, the few, small veins looking more prominent, you didn’t even bother to start with your hands, you instead fully shoved him in your mouth, he let out a very loud moan, you bobbed your head before deepthroating him and swallowing around him a couple of times before getting up, now he was fully panting, you went back to straddled him and lowered yourself on his cock, both of you letting out a moan of relief.
You jumped, grinded, and rolled on top of him, each movement marked by moans, whines, whimpers, and grunts coming from each of you.
“I love you, I fucking love you,” You leaned back, supporting yourself on his knees, you fucked yourself against him, all he could do was half moan it back and ground himself with your thighs. He then pressed his thumb against your clit and rubbed. You cried in pleasure.
“C-cum with me jagi, cum, p-please” With one hand he pushed you harder into him, and with the other he rubbed your clit hard and fast, you came with screams. You pressed yourself against him and stayed still, foreheads pressed together eyes close, he was moaning and grunting while you milked him. Both of you had come down from yout highs, you were resting on his chest, he was hugging you tightly kissing your head, he was still buried deep inside you, both your releases mixing and dripping down on his balls, tickling him.
“Y/n?” You hummed in response,”I love you… more than anything.”
NEXT CHAPTER->->
PREVIOUS CHAPTER<-<-
JAPAN INDEX
D-DAY INDEX
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Hey, hi, hello. It’s me again. Can I get a submissive Jesse? I see him as being dom more often than not, but this time, he’s feeling a certain type of way. Maybe he’s tied up or in cuffs? Would love to hear him say “Please, I promise I’ll be good this time.” I kinda wanna hear him beg 🥵
Thanks ily!! 💖💖
Soooooo I got you, my friend. This one was ahhh fun to write.
Jesse x f!Reader, Rating: E (18+ SO MINORS SKEEDADDLE - sub Jesse, dom reader, orgasm denial, oral sex, facesitting, cum eating, unprotected PiV sex)
Jesse blinks, his eyelashes brushing the dark blue fabric covering his eyes. All he can make out are the pinpoints of light from the room that poke through the fibers in the weave. He gives his wrists an experimental flex, feeling the metal of the cuffs dig into his skin just enough to bite. The muscles in his shoulders flex, pulled taught by the binders behind his back. His breathing is shallow as he tries to listen for any sound that might betray where you are. He can’t tell if it’s been minutes or hours, but he’s grateful for the carpeted floor below his knees as he begins to sit back on his haunches until he feels fingernails scrape across his bare shoulders. A warning.
“Up sweet boy. No relaxing yet.”
He huffs indignantly until your fingernails dig in a little deeper. He’s certain there’ll be slightly raised red marks on his skin, evidence of you, and he can’t deny the thought makes him throb in his pants. He shifts on his knees.
“You getting tired baby?”
“No,” he murmurs.
“Good.” The ghost of your breath on the shell of his ear makes him shiver. He feels the heat coming off your body. He thinks you’re kneeling next to him as he feels your chin rest on his shoulder, your fingers dancing across his chest.
“Because I’m not nearly done with you. Not after how you behaved tonight.”
He feels your tongue run across his collarbone, tracing down to his nipple. You blow on the bud, and he shudders. Fingers trail down his abdomen, tracing the light dusting of hair that starts at his navel before you scrape lightly against the bulge in his pants. He has to bite back a groan, exhaling sharply through his nose. You chuckle lightly against his throat as you drag your teeth across the tendons that are bulging out of his neck from the strain. He wants you, but he knows he has to wait.
He thought tonight would go differently, although he couldn’t say he was necessarily complaining. He’d planned to be on his best behavior, but then Fives had bought another round of shots, and Jesse’s inhibitions had slipped. You’d been sitting next to him, quietly drinking and joking with Rex about something or other. Emboldened by his drink, Jesse had leaned over to Fives and began recounting how he’d made you scream his name the night before. He’d thought he was being quiet, but he suspected now that they’d been much louder than intended. It wasn’t until Fives was whistling loudly that he felt your eyes on him. He’d turned to find your gaze burning into him from over the rim of your glass. No one else at the table seemed to notice, but in that moment, there was no doubt he was in trouble.
You hadn’t allowed him to touch you in the cab on the way home, which normally served as a prelude for the remainder of the evening’s activities. After that, he’d followed you into the lift up to your apartment, trying to lightly joke as your jaw remained set. Once the doors had closed, you turned to him, your eyes still burning.
“Do you think your terrible jokes are going to get you out of this?”
He had no response, swallowing hard. Your eyes had flicked down to his Adam’s apple as it bobbed nervously, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, coated in his favorite shade of lipstick. Earlier in the night, he’d imagined how those lips would look wrapped around his cock, but he had a sneaking suspicion he may not find out now.
You had wasted little time, quickly stripping him out of his armor and the top half of his undersuit, requesting him to kneel in a way that sounded more like a command, one which he’d obeyed without question. Now, blinded by the scarf you’d tied around his face, all he could do was try to taste you on the air as you walked around him. He was certain he’d heard you shower, leaving him alone kneeling on your bedroom floor, but even then, he hadn’t dared move. The closest he’d come to letting his guard down was when he’d tried to sit back on his heels, but you weren’t about to let even that happen.
Now, your fingers trace the portion of his tattoo that’s visible above the makeshift blindfold. You bite his earlobe, just hard enough to draw a grunt from him, and he feels your mouth twist into a smirk. Your hands slide down his shoulders before you undo the cuffs, bringing them to his front. He does his best not to sigh at the relief in his shoulders as he feels the binders click back into place before your palm presses against the center of his chest.
“On your back, sweet boy.”
Jesse’s knees protest stiffly as he does as you ask, rolling onto his back and adjusting his shoulders. He rests his cuffed hands on his belly as he tries to get a sense of you and where you are now. He hears a shuffling sound and suddenly, the pinpricks of light are obscured. He hears your breathing shudder as your feet come to rest on either side of his head… no, not your feet, your knees. He can smell you, and his mouth waters as he realizes you’re hovering over him, inches from his face. Your fingers graze the top of his head.
“Since you were so intent on running your mouth tonight, I think it’s time we put it to better use, don’t you think, Jesse?”
He fights the urge to bury his tongue in you. He can feel the heat and smell your cunt, and Maker he could just slide his tongue into your slit, he’s sure of it, but he’s promised to behave. So he nods.
“Use your words, sweet boy.”
“Yes. Please.”
“Please what?”
“Sit on my face.”
He hears you sigh as you sink down onto him, his nose bumping your clit as you start to shallowly grind down on his face. He sticks his tongue onto your heat, and his fingers twitch. He wants to grip your hips, pulling you down onto him more, but he knows that’ll be another breach of the rules, and you’ll just make him wait longer. He digs his fingers into the fabric of his pants instead, careful not to touch himself and earn another reprimand, even though he’s certain his cock is weeping, almost painfully hard.
You gasp, and he watches what he can make out of your silhouette through the blindfold. He’s pretty sure your head is tipped back, and he imagines what your throat looks like, your chin jutting forward, your eyes closed as you rock your hips against his face. He sucks at your clit and you moan, stroking his head again.
“See, I knew you could be a good boy for me, Jesse. So good, just for me,” you moan as you grind down on him, and he buries his tongue deep inside you, the muscle searching for the place he knows will make you cry out. He finds it, and your grip on the top of his head tightens as you gasp, redoubling your efforts.
“That’s it, make me cum baby. I know you want to taste it.” He nods, brushing his nose against the bundle of nerves again as he drags his tongue through your folds.
“Please,” he begs, but his words are muffled.
“So good,” you rasp. You’re almost smothering him, but he’d welcome this death, gladly drawing his last breath deep within your cunt as you drown him. He feels you clench around his tongue, and he groans. The vibrations make you shudder, and suddenly your motions are stuttering as your release washes over his tongue, and Maker alive, nothing tastes like you do.
You ride out your orgasm before clambering off of him. He can feel your limbs quiver, and he smirks to himself. You grip his slicked chin.
“So smug,” you comment. “Something else to say, sweet boy?”
He wipes the smile off his face. “No, ma’am.”
“Good.” A condescending pat on his cheek. “Such a good boy for me.” You kiss him hard, your tongue running over the inside of his mouth before you dig your teeth into his bottom lip. “I think you deserve a little relief.”
He has to fight a whine in his throat as you cup the bulge in his pants, giving his cock a gentle squeeze before you peel his pants off. The head of his cock bounces against his stomach, and he feels a coolness where the precum smears. You blow on the head of his cock lightly, and his hips jolt off the floor.
“Hands above your head,” you say casually, and he rushes to comply, his knuckles slamming into the carpet above his head. He feels your legs come to rest on either side of his hips, your wet heat hovering just above where he wants you most, and he fights the urge to thrust up into you.
“Patience,” you chide, almost as if you can read his mind. You rock your hips over his cock, dragging your cunt over him, and he can feel the slick you leave in your wake.
Don’t move. Don’t move. Don’t move.
It feels so good, but he knows disobeying will only prolong things. He exhales sharply as the head of his cock finally catches at your entrance. You let it sit there, rolling your hips in a circle before you let just the head slide inside of you. Jesse is panting now, barely able to control himself. Your hand rests against his cheek, and he turns, panting against your palm as if the additional contact will help ease his need. You sink lower and he can’t help but moan, his head thunking back against the floor.
It feels like it takes hours, but finally, you bury him to the hilt, grinding your clit against the patch of hair on his navel for a few shallow movements before you begin to ride him in earnest.
“Fuck.”
He wishes he could see you, watch himself disappear inside of you as your tits bounce with every movement, but somehow, not seeing makes him able to feel everything, the slick warmth of you, the way your walls squeeze around him as your muscles flex. It’s bliss, and his cock twitches inside of you, making you moan.
“No cumming yet, sweet boy. You’re going to get me off one more time before I let that happen.”
He whimpers, and he’d be ashamed any other time, but right now, he can’t be bothered to care as you slow your hips.
“Please,” he begs.
Your hand rests on his throat.
“Please what?”
“Please let me touch you.”
“Oh no, sweet boy. That only happens after I cum.”
He whines again, and you laugh. It’s breathy, but there's a bite to it.
“Please, I promise I’ll be good,” he pleads again.
“Such a needy boy.”
“Need you.”
You slow the roll of your hips further, as if you’re considering his words. “Show me how good you can be then. But don’t touch me. No hands.”
Jesse nods, planting his feet on the floor and thrusting up into you wildly. The grip on his throat tightens slightly, and it ignites something within him. He finds that spot inside of you, he can tell by the way you gasp suddenly, and he goes at it again and again until you start babbling, grinding down on him once more.
“So good for me. Such a good, sweet boy, letting me ride your cock like this.”
“Yours,” he rasps. “All yours.”
“I’m close, Jesse,” you moan. “So close.”
“Me too,” he gasps.
“Cum with me, sweet boy.”
“Yeah?”
He feels you start to clench, and he knows you’re almost there.
“You first,” he growls. You laugh again, still breathy, but more light. As if you’ve won some contest he didn’t know you were competing in.
“Touch me, Jesse.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He feels the binders click loose and his hands fly to your hips. He feels you reach for the blindfold, but he jerks his head away.
“Leave it. Wanna feel you.”
He can tell he’s surprised you, but it doesn’t stop you. He brings your hand back to his throat before digging his fingers into your hips and fucking up into you with renewed fervor. Your gasps get louder, and suddenly you’re shouting his name, clenching down on him. He feels a rush of warmth across his hips, and he groans as the grip on his throat tightens. His hips stutter as he empties himself inside of you, shuddering with every thrust.
You collapse on his chest, and the two of you don’t move for several minutes, panting and sticking together with sweaty skin. His fingers finally trail along your spine, and he feels you reach for the blindfold again, slipping the fabric off of his face. His vision is blurry for a few seconds before it readjusts, and he blinks rapidly as you come into focus.
You’re grinning, your eyes almost glowing in the bedroom lighting. He smiles, stroking your cheek.
“Am I forgiven?”
“You are. You were such a good boy for me,” you tease as you lean down to nuzzle your nose against his, kissing him gently.
He still preens internally at the praise as he smiles at you, gently cradling the back of your head to keep you close to him.
“You know me. I aim to please.”
Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @moonstrider9904 @teletraan-meets-jarvis @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri
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For the first kiss prompts, "I'm not sure how to..." "Just follow my lead." and Rulie?
Their breathing is loud in the small room.
It's dark, the air still reverberating with the slammed door, and the musty smell of abandoned objects.
Julie reaches up and flails her hand until she finds the old fashioned chain and with a click a faded golden glow washes over them.
It's dim, the bulb as dusty as the rest of the room.
She shuffles awkwardly, trying not to kick anything in the limited clear area. She doesn't want to look up, her heart in her throat. Is it just her imagination or is her heart beating loud enough to fill the silence? Her breath sounds ragged even to her own ears.
But there's only so long she can avoid acknowledging the situation. It's ridiculous. It's just a game.
She swallows, and her throat clicks.
"So…" she begins, ready to crack a joke. It's just Reggie, for goodness' sake. Her fingers shake, so she stuffs them in the front pockets of her jeans, where they're squeezed by the fitted fabric.
She finally looks up and freezes. His bright eyes are wide, jaw tight enough to snap. The tendons in his neck stand out, taut.
"Reg? Are you okay?"
He swallows, and she watches his Adam's apple bob. His lips are pale. Pressed thin.
She reaches out, drops her hand when he flinches.
"Is it—are you—" she closes her eyes for a moment and breathes. His tension fills the air like gas, creeping into her mouth and nose, filling her lungs. "Is it the small space?"
He shakes his head, a tight jerk that dislodges a curl of hair to lay carelessly across his forehead.
She feels like a stranger, like she doesn't know this person standing in front of her, his fists balled tight. Her mind is oddly blank, as if their history doesn't exist; she doesn't know how to fix this.
Reggie looks away, and the dim light falls on his hair, coloring strands bronze and gold, deepening the shadows beneath. It drips down his forehead, the slope of his nose, coasts over the arch of his cheekbone. Pools in the dip of his clavicle.
"I'm not sure how to..."
Oh.
She wants to tell him that they don't have to do anything. It's just them. It's just a stupid game. Her voice doesn't make it past her throat.
She wants to be the one to reassure him.
But it's not as if she has that much experience. Bad, fumbling kisses with people who are just as nervous as she is, or too enthusiastic.
"Just follow my lead."
Her voice, when it comes, is so much more confident than she feels. But she can do this. She can do this right.
She steps towards him, slow. He tenses again—more—his shoulders a fraction higher than a moment ago, his jaw almost creaking under the pressure.
She reaches out, again, but doesn't let his aborted retreat stop her. Slides a gentle hand from his shoulder to his wrist; a pause to feel his pulse fluttering hummingbird-fast against her fingertips. Works her fingers between his until they ease, just a little.
His grip is so tight her fingers begin to lose feeling.
She steps closer anyway, lets the fingers of her free hand dance along the line of his jaw until he releases a breath.
"Let me," she murmurs, just for them. His eyes meet hers, and they're still so wide, painfully bright, painfully green in the low light. Illuminated from within.
She doesn't give him time to answer; doesn't give herself time to second guess her actions. She slips her fingers onto the soft skin beneath his ear, jutting bone nestled perfectly in her palm, and brings their mouths together.
It's nothing, at first. A bare press of their lips. It's so quiet that the rasp of his chapped lips against hers is perfectly audible. He doesn't move, barely breathes.
Her fingers curl slightly, drag against that hidden tract of unseen skin under his earlobe, and his breath rushes out of him in a huff, warm and sweet against her lips.
She's pulling him closer before her brain can catch up. His fingers free hers, allowing her to wrap her arm around him, her suddenly tingling fingers fitting perfectly in the dip of his lower back.
She shivers when his hands hesitantly cup her hips, more heat than pressure.
As if it's the hundredth time they've done this, rather than the first, they tilt their heads, their mouths meeting perfectly.
It's so utterly outside of her previous experiences that she nearly pulls away, a question worrying at the back of her mind. Was he really…?
Then he presses forward just a little too fast, a little too hard, his fingers too tight on her hips. Their lips mash together between their teeth, his nose flattened uncomfortably against hers and it melts away.
She tilts his head to a better position with the slightest pressure to the base of his skull, and takes his plump lower lip between hers. She can taste the chemical sweetness of the soda he'd been mainlining all night.
He holds himself still, mouth soft; lets her kiss him gently, sweetly. His only action is the slightest clench and release of his fingers on her hips, the involuntary rise and fall of his chest adding another quiet sound to the silence of the room as their clothes rub together with the small movement.
She should keep it this soft, this slow, but she's seized by an unavoidable need. Her fingers tangle in his hair, holding him tight, her mouth coaxing his to open. Their tongues meet in a shiver of delight that reverberates between them.
She loses herself in Reggie's mouth, in the tentative way his lips move, his tongue shyly curling around hers.
A sudden pounding startles them apart, and Reggie kicks something that rolls with a metallic clang. His chest is heaving, slick red lips parted with his panting breaths.
"Times up!"
They stare at each other, and Julie's mind whirrs uselessly, unable to formulate words.
"Are you decent?" another voice asks slyly. Several voices giggle and whisper.
Reggie clearly his throat, runs his hands down his chest and stomach, tugs at his shirt. He strides to the door and flings it open.
"Yes, yes, very funny," he says, shoving his hair back from his face. The air from the larger room outside seems too cold on Julie's skin, and she wraps her arms around herself, fingers pinching at the sensitive skin of her upper arms.
She wants to shut the door behind him, turn off the light, sit in the dark until she feels normal again.
Reggie doesn't look back.
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Smoke Rings ~ Dabi X Reader
A/n: This is a binge. I don’t care though.
CW: Suggestive and sexual themes, smoking, not so Light mentions of sexual acts (I'm not entirely sure what to call them, but better safe than sorry ig? Just... idk. Touch some grass and bathe in holy water ig.), burning, Minors DNI
Also can we talk about how fucking hot he looks in this manga panel? ONG
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There were a few things that had your knees weak and your legs feeling unsteady of supporting your body's weight. One of them was his damaged voice. The way he would growl out your name would make your attention snap towards him as you were prepared to do whatever he wanted you to do as long as he gave the word. Even if you argued, you didn't mean it. You just liked the way that the excitement at the offered challenge would flash across his scarred face. Another was his brilliant cyan eyes. The way they would look up at you from under ebony hair and long dark eyelashes. Or how he would stare, unblinkingly, at you through the twisting lines of smoke that he exhaled. Third was his hands. The contours of the tendons and muscles under the skin, the veins that would peek up from the healthy skin. The way the staples pulled at the skin, accentuating every detail. The calluses on his long slender fingers. Whether they were gripping your thighs, hips, waist, neck, wrists, or even just your own hands. Oh, what were you kidding? He could grip anything with his hands and you would just melt.
You pressed the pillow against your lap, your face staring up at the ceiling as your head rested against the top of the back couch cushions. Your fingers clung to the pillow's edge as you tried to calm your fluster. He was like kryptonite to you. As addictive as the nicotine he inhaled. You felt warmth shift against your side and you glanced over, seeing his side profile. The gentle slope of his nose, the sharp outline of his jaw, the heavy lids of his eyes, the messy ebony hair that still had water droplets clinging to the strands from his shower half an hour before. Your teeth dug into the flesh of your bottom lip as your eyes traveled down to his own lips. The curve of his cupid's bow and the transfer of the healthy skin and the scarred bottom lip. The way the light played across the metal staples along his smile line and the curve of his chin.
"What are you thinking about?" A low rasp asked you. Your eyes were pulled away from staring at the slopes from his adams apple to the corners of his collarbones back up to his eyes with his head turned towards you. Your eyes dropped to his neck again, watching the way the cords were more pronounced on one side with the shift of movement. Your teeth pressed into your lip harder and it didn't escape your wandering attention the way his eyes darted down to it. You watched him moved those devilish hands away from where they had been resting on his thighs while he watched the TV in front of both of you, a silent invitation. You took it, moving closer to him before straddling his lap. You felt his warm hands settle on your waist before sliding down to your hips, a couple of his fingers slipping under your waist band. You rested your own hands against his rising and falling chest before tracing down, feeling the muscle beneath the thin white cotton of his shirt. You could feel the curves and dips of his abdominal muscles and your hips shifted in a circular movement by instinct. It drew a light chuckle from the man you sat upon. "So fast." He said with a shake of his head before grabbing your wrists to hold them together behind your back. You exhaled shudderingly as your back arched and tense slightly. You could feel the added warmth from the metal of the staples.
"Please..." You whispered to him, not in any mood to put up a fake fight. Judging by the smug smirk that landed itself on his mismatched lips, he agreed. His other hand tipped your chin up, exposing your neck to him. You could feel his warmth move closer and the feeling of his lips drifting over the sensitive skin. It sent a shiver down your spine, a gasp leaving your lips when you felt his mouth make connection with your pulse point. The wet muscle of his tongue kneaded at it as he sucked on it. It sent a sting of pain up to your brain that got mixed into the forming pleasured haze. His lips drifted down, teeth nipping before he simply just bit down on your trapezius, his hand leaving your chin to pull his shirt you were wearing away from it. You could feel warmth bloom on the nape of your neck and spread all over your body as he licked a stripe alone your neck to the corner of your jaw before placing a kiss there. The man pulled away and you looked deep within his eyes before moving forward, wanting to mold your lips to his. He pulled away further as his hand tugged on your held together wrist, pulling you back as well. A low whine left you at the denial of additional contact.
"You're starting to burn." He said, amusement filling his low voice. You frowned at him, a pout forming on your facial features. It dragged another chuckle from him which only made your pout deepen into a scowl.
"Why are you teasing me?" You asked quietly. You could hear the program on the TV shift before music filled the apartment's living room. Stupidly fitting. But not surprising since the program was made for playing music when it got late into the evening enough. At least it told you what time it was. He never had clocks in his home. You felt his body tense below you before he tipped you back, your body meeting the couch as he hovered above you, the smug smile back in place on his lips.
"Why?" He repeated before leaning down and kissing the corner of your mouth, retreating again before you could adjust to kiss him. You wriggled below him, his hand pressing down on your abdomen to keep you down. Your weight kept your wrists pinned now and your wrists were beginning to ache as your shoulders burned. Your muscles were tight from tension. Tension that you wanted him to get out from your body. "I'm going to expose that fragile arrogance." He said, his voice forcing another shiver to run down your spine. He moved his hand from your torso to spread your legs so he could slot himself in between them. You were barely stopping yourself from shaking like a leaf as he pushed up his shirt on you. The staples scratched at your stomach and tore another whimper from you until his hot mouth kissed along the opening between your ribs and under your sternum. You could feel him suck more marks into your skin and your back arched again, pressing against him as you panted. You didn't worry about the neighbors hearing the sporadic sounds he pulled from you with the music from the TV. He always made sure to play music when the two of you were alone. Especially if he had just gotten back from a mission. He was always the most possessive after those. Possessive about who looked at you and who heard you. He wanted the sounds to be for him and him alone. When you didn't listen to his orders were the times he would make sure the neighbors would hear you, using the embarrassment as punishment.
"I'm not arrogant." You protested. He laughed against your skin before lifting his body up again to look at you. His hand gripped your jaw as he looked down at you from underneath his dark bangs.
"Don't lie." He tsked before slipping his hand to the back of your neck, coaxing you into a sitting position. You freed your hands, relieving the burning feeling in your shoulders. You let him lift the shirt off of you and drop to the ground before he pushed you back down again. He brought both of your wrists to his mouth to place a kiss to the inside of them, over the pulse points. He was obsessed with that, feeling your heartbeat under his mouth. You felt confused for a moment at why he was being so gentle though. He loved kissing you, but he was taking his time. You weren't expecting that.
"You're being gentle with me." You whispered to him. You stifled the gasp that wanted to leave when his hooded eyes met yours. Amusement danced in the cyan depths of them and he leaned closer to you, pinning your wrists above your head again as he brushed the tip of his nose against yours. His smug smile turned sly.
"Oh? How so?" He asked. You took that opportunity to move forward to press your lips against his. The kiss only lasted a moment though before he pulled back and you sighed with disappointment.
"You can be rougher. Like when you used your quirk to brand me." You answered softly. You weren't sure if you made a mistake or not when the excitement flashed across his face. You rocked your hips against him, trying to lure him closer so you could kiss him again. You wanted him to not hold back anymore, but you also wanted to feel the heat of his mouth against yours. It was frustrating how much of a tease he could be.
"You like fire? I’m afraid my only skill is flame. I’m going to let you have a lot of it." He said, his hand sliding over your mouth before heating up. His gaze only darkened with lust at the panicked expression that flashed on your clouded eyes. You parted your lips to press your tongue against his hand and his hand moved again to press two of his fingers between your parted lips. You closed your mouth around them, twirling your tongue around them as your mouth started to grow warmer. When your eyes returned to his, his pupils were dilated. "Since that's what you want." But he pulled his fingers from your mouth and you frowned as he shifted his hips away from yours so you couldn't seek out any friction.
"You're such a tease." You whimpered as you tried to figure out how to coax him back again. He looked down at you as he reached into his pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. He brought one to his lips and lit it before taking a deep breath. He exhaled the smoke down at you and you stayed still, watching him carefully as he settled back on the balls of his feet.
"God or whatever is up there is real cruel." He said with a shrug before moving further down on the couch before he laid down on his stomach, cigarette dangling from between his lips. You looked down at him from where he was propped up between your spread thighs. He fidgeted with your waistband again with a soft hum. "Aren't they." He added as he exhaled. You arched your hips off the couch and let him pull off your pants and underwear, leaving you in the nude while he still remained fully dressed. It was a power play, but you didn't mind. You watched him settle back down before eying your arousal. "Interesting." You exhaled slowly as he moved upward to your face. The end of the cigarette burned brightly as he took a deep inhale before pressing his mouth to yours, kissing you as he forced the smoke into your mouth.
Your fingers tangled into his dark hair as his free hand gripped onto your hip tightly, likely leaving fingertip shaped bruises to form. Your tongues danced together as you kissed. The lack of oxygen was making your head feel fuzzy after several moments and he pulled away. Before you could gasp for breath he pressed the cigarette between your own lips, forcing you to inhale the nicotine filled smoke. It wasn't the first time he had done this though. You lifted your hand to grab it between to fingers as you pulled it away to exhale the smoke into his face. The way his cyan eyes stayed on you as he inhaled through the pale gray smoke was enough to make your abdomen clench.
"Make a smoke ring, baby." He ordered. You frowned before inhaling from the cigarette again. You tried to form the smoke circle so it could frame his face, make a deformed halo around him. Your frown only deepened as it didn't turn out the way you wanted. He plucked the cigarette from you with a smirk before placing another chaste kiss to your lips. His teeth gripped onto your bottom and pulled back slightly before releasing to watch it bounce back into place. "Let me show you how it’s done." He said before dropping back down again. You propped yourself up on your forearms to watch him inhale from it before removing it from his lips. It took a second before a smoke ring pulled away from his lips and press against your arousal. The next one became a hazy ring between your thighs. Combined with how he looked up at you had a soft moan being pulled from his lips. This went on for several moments until the cigarette had all but burned down. You felt him grip your thigh before a yelp tore itself from your throat as he calmly pressed the burning end against your skin. It brought tears springing to your eyes but your mind twisted the pain into pleasure and you moaned as the heat calmed slightly. You heard the crackle of flames again before the hissing sound of another being lit.
You watched as he alternated between just blowing smoke at your twitching arousal or smoke rings between your quivering thighs. The next time he pressed the cigarette into your thigh, a moan left your mouth as your head tossed back. "Gonna turn you to ashes right here." He said. You could hear the lower octave his voice had dropped into to match his own lust. When you looked at him from the smoky haze of the newest cigarette that he was just holding, his pupils were blown wide with lust. A sliver of cyan lined the dark onyx pools in his eyes. You squirmed, trying to press your sex against his waiting mouth and you moaned again as he pressed his thumb against one of the burns in your skin. "Stay still a minute." He ordered. You tried to obey as he continued his smoking ministrations. When he was finished he moved up to your mouth, a sadistic smile on his face. "Stick out your tongue." He ordered next. You obeyed and a whine left you as he put out the cigarette on the muscle before flicking it into the ashtray on the side table.
Your bodies met in an almost fantic way. Both of you were tensed up and stung too high to come down calmly. You didn't care though. You just knew that your voice were raised in tandem and your body grew sore from how he didn't want to leave your warm body. He was just as warm if not more so.
Afterwards the two of you lay with each other on the couch, his fingers idly tracing over the bandages on your thighs that covered the burn cream. "Is that what you'd call the fastest?" He asked you quietly, regarding the way that you had been just calmly sitting on the couch before jumping into the actions without any prior discussion. You laughed.
"Maybe. I just know I'm sore, Dabi." You answered. He smiled into your skin as he hid his face away in your neck.
"That was a pretty good exercise."
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been havin a rough couple of days so did some busts 2 shut my brain off :>
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Masculine things Andrew does that Neil can't help but drool over
• When he's driving. When he's holding Neil's hand or has one hand on Neil's thigh he'll make a turn with one hand, shifting it all the way to the side of the wheel and Neil will catch a glimpse of the tendons in his hand before he turns the wheel so easily and the car turns so smoothly it's like it takes him no effort at all
• When he does bicep curls in front of the mirror at the gym. He won't even have tension in any other part of his body, he'll stand there so relaxed like it those weights aren't fucking heavy. Neil can't stop staring at the way his bicep flexes and relaxes, and the indifferent expression of Andrew's face as he looks at either his arm or himself in the mirror
• When he wipes the sweat off his forehead with his shirt and exposes his stomach, Neil just wants to spread his fingers over his stomach and kiss away the sweat and wonders if it would taste salty
• When they're alone and he walks around shirtless
• When he plays video games and he does that thing where he leans forward with his elbows on his knees and he has that focused expression on his face
• When he gets angry
• When he gets angry and slams things, like when he's frustrated with his video game and he slams the controller
• When he puts his feet up on tables with his hands in his pockets and a what are you gonna do about it expression on his face
• When he wears suits
• When he ruffles his hair or brushes it out of his eyes without noticing he's doing it
• When he makes and effort on game nights or at practices because Andrew is good. He's so competent with a racquet in his hands and he can slam a ball so fucking far he's so strong and he's just competent
• His morning voice. His goddamn morning voice right in Neil's ear when he wakes up because Neil is getting up to go running and he says "Junkie" or "Fuck You" or something but the best is when he pulls Neil back onto the bed and against his chest and hums and Neil can feel the vibrations against his back
• When they're making out and Andrew pulls him closer by his waist or a hand on his back
• When his hand is on Neil's shoulder, or his neck or something and he'll rub circles into Neil's skin with his thumb or two of his fingers
• When he has his hand in Neil's hair and he scratches his fingernails lightly on Neil's scalp in slow, rhythmic movements
• When he squeezes Neil's thigh
• When he stretches and his shirt rides up so Neil can se his abdomen and he leaves it there
• When he's sitting on the couch with his head tilted back so Neil can see his throat and his adam's apple bobbing when he swallows
• When he's wearing combat boots and chains and earrings and he goes full goth
• When he wears rings and jewellery
• When he puts a cigarette in his mouth and lights it and the takes the first drag and blows out the smoke
• When he kisses Neil with smoke still in his mouth
Bonus things Andrew does that are not necessarily masculine but make Neil's heart do gymnastics
• When he naps in the sun and he's curled up on the bed and the sun makes his hair glow
• When he yawns
• When something sappy or sweet that Neil said whether on purpose or by accident makes Andrew blush and he hides it by putting a hand over his face.
• When he leans on Neil
• When he puts his hand under Neil's shirt just to stroke his skin and feel the warmth
• When he's sleepy
• When he makes Neil lie down to be a pillow for him but he doesn't ask he just pulls Neil in by his hoodie sleeve or his hand and shoves him on the bed and makes himself comfortable
• When he says I hate you in the softest tone and then kisses Neil deeply, cupping his jaw and then pecks him chastely before pulling away
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Where You At Kitten?
Summary- 1.2k Ransom Drysdale x You. You were quick to leave in the morning, a regular walk of shame habit for you. Shame Ransom woke up with his own issues that you could have helped him with.
Warnings- This little verse involves cheating on the reader's part. It is mentioned in this short fic. If that in any way bothers you, please don't read. Same couple as in You Can't Get Better Than A Thrombey Also male masturbation.
Chris Evans Masterlist
Ransom awoke in his city apartment almost feeling satisfied.
Almost.
He reached over in his over sized bed, hand brushing along the finest cotton sheets and feather pillows, to find the spot empty. A groan of utter disbelief and disgust came from the back of his throat. Of course you split while he was asleep.
It was the way you dealt with your guilt. Escape from him back to your perfect little life with that lawyer boyfriend of yours. What was his name?
Nate? Nick? Neil?
Neil… fucking pain in the ass, in his way Neil. If Ransom could be bothered, he would find out more about Neil to really fuck up his life. You were his girl, even when you weren't actually his girl.
Right now Ransom really could have benefited if you had just stayed because he woke up with a raging hard on that he would have happily used on you. Thoughts of last night made a lazy smirk upturn his mouth with satisfaction.
“Fuck Ransom, do it again.” You moan underneath him, your head thrown back into the pillows scattered around and tiny pleasure mewls pitching from parted lips.
Another surge, his cock pounding into your weeping cunt like he fucking owned you. “Think you deserve it again Kitten?” He stilled with a great strain, making you whine in disbelief.
His hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing enough to make him give a raspy groan at the sensation, his cock twitching.
Wanting you and having you were two separate things at the moment, so his hand had to do at the moment. He gave a light tug to his balls as his morning erection pressed against his stomach, swollen and throbbing with each firm squeeze he gave. It was a shame to not share this with you, he thought to himself as he tilted his head back, breathing in slowly to calm himself down.
Reaching over for his phone, he continued rubbing his palm up and down his cock to keep himself turned on and turned on the camera till it focused on him.
“Kitten, you parted without your morning fuck.” Ransom gritted out to the phone, smirking into it. “Let me show you what you are missing.”
His phone drifted down starting at his bobbing adam apple and the tendons in his neck flexing. Further down it followed heaving chest, his pecs starting to sheen slightly as he grunted out loud. “Fuck Kitten… if only you were here.”
The camera focused on his slightly folded belly, quivering with anticipation. Dusting of dark hairs led down his lower stomach, the grooves of his adonis belt were a sheer path to his hand wrapped around his cock.
Ransom was sure to angle the camera to sit between his thighs, full view of the throbbing vein that led to his swollen bright red tip just starting to lead cum that dribbled down his length, smearing himself in it.
He let his blue eyes focus on the camera propped between his thighs, perfect teeth nipping at his bottom lip as he grunted and groaned with the slight thrust of his hips fucking into his palm.
Of course, it was easy for him to picture you kneeling between his spread thighs with that excited grin you would get. Just picturing you rubbing his cock in your hands before tilting to push him between your breasts, your head dipped so your lips could catch his weeping tip with a smirk.
In the camera his lashes fluttered low on his cheeks when he started to jerk himself in a sloppier motion, coming close to his ending. HIs mouth went slack with a tilt of his head back, stretching out his neck to watch those popping tendons, tensing even more.
“FUCK!” he shouted as he sped up. The noises falling from him were rumbles of curses and deep groaning gasps.
His body went with the flow of pleasure, his muscular thighs quivered when the spiral of tension waved over him in pleasure, his balls tightened and his release spurted in thick ribbons to splash across his stomach and chest.
The release showed him sagging a bit, his hand slowing on his cock till he let go, laying against his thigh.
“Shit Kitten…” He shifted in the bed and reached over for a kleenex to wipe his hand off before reaching for his phone to leave you with one parting message. “How pretty would that have looked on your tongue this morning.” Ransom smirked at the phone while pressing back his dark hair from his forehead, lazing back into the pillow. “Or your hair… we will see later tonight if you come over.”
Letting the video end with a wink, he hit send, and knowing you would probably open it at work, unaware, he was left with a satisfying feeling. Getting up, Ransom made his way to the shower to really start his day working with Harlan.
You had managed to slip out early this morning, while Ransom was still passed out. This walk of shame is becoming all too familiar now. The doorman to his building didn't even look up anymore which you didn't know if that was worse than not. He had become so familiar with you sneaking out at three am, he didn't even pay attention.
Now you are doing your best to caffeinate and start your day, ready for endless meetings with the law firm about different projects going on. You were in for a long boring day trying to keep yourself awake enough to pay attention. Neil would be so engrossed in all this, he wouldn't be paying you any attention. A sigh escaped you as you stepped onto the elevator with other members of the firm.
A blessing and a curse meant that your addiction to Ransom would just be fed well over the next few weeks. Your thoughts drifted to the sin that somehow you still managed to make your life harder.
The rush he provided made you chide yourself for your weakness.
Of course, this was just the opportune moment for Ransom to send a message, his assigned beep chirping from your purse. Pulling it out, you saw he had sent a video. You didn't think much of it when you hit play, figuring it would be a mini-rant of his about you leaving when he was still asleep. You slid your finger against the small bar at the bottom to move the video along when it started with what looked like him fumbling with his phone.
It turned into more than that, a sinful noise escaped your phone as you went wide-eyed at the screen before you. Ransom was flushed in the camera while his large palm was wrapped around his cock, teeth pulling at the pale pink lip while he gleamed sinfully into the video, almost like he was looking directly at you. His tone was rasped when he rasped out.
“Where you at Kitten?”
Hurriedly you hit the mute button and stuffed your phone in your bag, cursing yourself at ever just assuming it was safe to push a button. Several of your higher-ups gave you a look before the silence became deafening.
When your floor finally came and you could step off, you rushed out, muttering to yourself. “That fucking asshole…”
Once you got to your desk, you ditched your bag and warily pulled out your phone. Sure to glance around it was safe, you turned the volume low and privately watched the rest of the video with a desire that would just sit with you the rest of the day.
Ransom Drysdale was an addiction you were going to get burned from again, you just knew it.
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Oral Fixation
Jason Todd x trans masc reader; NSFW
After a long patrol, all Jason wants to do is give up control for a bit and let you call the shots. You're more than happy to oblige.
I said I wasn't comfortable with the idea of writing smut, and yet here we are.
Sweet subby Jason is a favorite headcanon of mine. He spends so much time being the tough guy in charge, and sometimes he just needs to be taken care of instead.
Reader is AFAB but parts are referred to with masculine terms. The reader is not penetrated.
It's nearly dawn when Jason finally crawls into bed beside you, still smelling of sweat and gunpowder. He moves carefully so as not to wake you or press on his fresh bruises, but you're a light sleeper and you roll to face him with a lazy smile. He cuddles close, tucking his face into the crook of your neck to breathe in your scent as he wraps his arms around you.
"Hey, handsome," you murmur, voice still thick with sleep as you card a hand through his hair. He gives a pleased sigh, pulling you a little tighter against him, and it's then that you notice he's hard against your hip. "Well hello there," you chuckle. "Had a good patrol?"
"It was rough," he mumbles against your neck. "Can we...? Could you--?" He can't get the words out, but you know what he's asking for. He wants you to take charge and call the shots, to treat him gently but make him yours.
"Of course, sweetheart," you say, voice soft and full of fondness. "You want to be my good boy tonight?" The shiver that goes through him is electric, and you smile. It's so, so easy to work him up when he's in one of these moods. "Get the extra pillows out and put them on the floor so you can kneel," you instruct, and Jason pulls away instantly to comply as soon as he realizes what you're going to have him do.
While he fetches the spare pillows from the shelf in the closet, you sit up and stretch. You don't plan on anything too strenuous tonight, but you still need to be awake enough to give Jason what he needs.
He sets the pillows down on the floor in front of the bed and kneels on them without further prompting. You've done this enough that he knows it like any other routine, comfortable and easy enough he doesn't have to think. "Good boy," you say, just to watch him shiver. "You know what comes next, right?"
He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes fall to your crotch. The look in his eyes is hungry, almost desperate. You take pity on him and shimmy out of your boxers, perching on the edge of the bed in front of him.
"You're going to suck my cock for me, my sweet boy. Just your mouth, no hands on me or yourself," you instruct before spreading your legs for him. You can see the tendons in Jason's neck straining as he waits for permission, so eager to get his mouth on you, but he knows he has to wait until you tell him it's okay.
You take pity on him and murmur, "go ahead," and that's all the instruction he needs before he's on you like a man starved. He knows the head of your cock is sensitive, so he keeps his tongue gentle as he laps at you, arms tucked behind his back to make sure he doesn't accidentally touch you. There's no need for cuffs or rope when he's always so well behaved for you.
You tangle your fingers through his hair, guiding him and holding him firmly to you. The press of his tongue is hot and insistent, and you can feel a wet patch forming on the sheets beneath you from your pre-cum.
"Good boy," you gasp as Jason gives a firm suck that has spots appearing in your vision. He practically purrs at the praise, redoubling his efforts until you find yourself thrusting your hips up against his mouth and pressing him head against you as you cum. When you let Jason pull back to catch his breath, his face is wet with your cum, and he has a pleasantly dazed expression. You take his cheeks between your palms and pull him up for a kiss, not caring that your own spend sticks to your chin when you part.
"You're so good for me, sweet boy," you murmur into his ear, earning a pleased sigh. You reach down to palm his erection through his sweatpants, but glance down when your hand touches a wet spot instead. Jason closes his eyes, not sure he wants to see your reaction.
"Oh, sweetheart," you say, your tone pleased enough that he chances opening his eyes again. "You liked sucking my cock that much? You liked me calling you my good boy so much that you came in your pants?" He's blushing as he nods, avoiding eye contact.
You take his slick chin between two fingers and turn his face so he looks at you. "Sweetheart, I'm not upset. I'm not going to punish you for that. I'm honored that you enjoyed yourself that much. You're always such a good boy for me, and I'm so happy you found pleasure in serving me."
Your words have the intended effect, and Jason gives you the small smile he reserves for these moments, open and trusting and full of wonder.
"Come on sweetheart, let's get us both cleaned up. You still smell like your patrol, and I don't want my thighs to be sticky in the morning." You strip out of the rest of your pajamas then help him out of his, leading him by the hand to the bathroom. He doesn't necessarily need it, but you don't want to give up on the tenderness of the moment just yet. And besides, a little aftercare never hurt anyone, no matter how gentle the scene was.
While you wait for the shower to heat up, you check Jason over for injuries from his patrol, pleased to see only a few fresh bruises and no blood. You have him sit on the toilet lid so you can hold him with his head against your chest, listening to your heartbeat while you hum something soft. Even with the cold porcelain below him, he could honestly fall asleep like this, warm and tired and content.
When you're sure the water is the right temperature, you haul him up and guide him into the shower, where he gives a pleased sigh as soon as he's under the spray. There's no real way for both of you to stand under the shower head at the same time, but you're fine letting him stand there while you pour soap onto a washcloth and gently clean the sweat and grime from his skin. For now you don't bother with his hair, since you know he has his own routine for that. This is just a quick wash before bed.
Once Jason is clean you try to nudge him aside so you can wash yourself, but he takes the washcloth instead and returns the favor. It's tender and domestic, and you absolutely live for moments like this. There's no talking, just soft touches and sleepy smiles.
Once you're both clean, you shut off the shower, and both of you grab towels. There's a ridiculous moment where both of you try to help the other dry off, and then you're laughing, and he laughs too. You both settle for drying yourselves off and then go to pull on fresh pajamas.
After you crawl into bed, Jason pulls you against his chest and rumbles a soft, "thank you," in your ear. The early morning sun is shining weakly through the gaps in your blinds as you give a contented hum in response.
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Words Whispered in the Dark
Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series or a standalone
Pairing: professor!Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 6250🙈
Summary:
There are things, intimate desires, which people simply don’t want to talk about out loud. Since you prefer writing those down, it applies twice as much.
Steve supports your writing – but what he’d think about your newest story… well, you’re not sure you wanted to know.
Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, bondage, oral (M rec), consensual sensory deprivation, praise kink & body worship, ‘babygirl’, fingering, dom/sub undertones & implied age gap & professor-student dynamic & cumplay if you squint, language ---- (let me know if I missed any…why is the list so long wtf)
A/N: Can be read as a standalone. Part of the Attached ‘verse with professor!Steve.
A/N: For Siri’s 5K Soft Dark Challenge. Congratulations to the rightfully earned milestone ❤️ Thank you for hosting the challenge and kindly including even soft fics (even though I feel like my soft got lost in translation a bit).
Prompt: “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.” - bold in the text, pls don’t @ me for the way I used it.
Stepping back into your and Steve’s shared bedroom and study room in one, you froze on spot, heart leaping to your throat.
You were lucky you didn’t drop your coffee and snack upon the sight of him, your fingers gripping the items tighter in surprise instead. But fuck, was it a close call.
Because few minutes ago, you moved to the kitchen to grab some refreshments for your brain. Relaxed air had settled over your tiny but loving household on a late Sunday morning; Steve was chilling on the bed, while you sat by your desk, laptop in your lap as your fingers danced over the keyboard, putting into words your latest… uhm, story. It was going great too and being able to steal glances at your gorgeous fiancé and muse in one person was a pleasant bonus.
Steve was, as sheepish as it sometimes made you, well-acquainted with your passion for writing, even rooting for you in his fully-supportive partner mode at all times. He read a few things of yours, both dirty and sweet ones, and he seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. You weren’t hiding things from him, never had to; and damn, did it feel good for both of you.
So technically, you knew there was a chance you’d find him behind your desk, eyes skimming over your words since you left the computer opened, just like the document, but… well.
Nothing could prepare you for the sight on him actually doing it, shoulders tense, Adam’s apple bobbing, breathing shaky as his chest kept rising and falling irregularly.
Your own breath hitched at the sight, face feeling like set aflame, pulse hammering in your temples.
Oh no. Oh shit. This wasn’t happening--
Truth was, you really had no problem sharing your stories with Steve. But this one… well, fuck. You were so fucking screwed.
“Oh---oh honey,” you stuttered, the endearment you rarely used tasting foreign on your tongue. That was how out of it you were upon realizing what was happening here.
Steve was reading it. Steve was reading that thing. That shameless, entirely dubious thing that--- this was bad. Bad, bad, bad, really fucking bad—he hadn’t run for the hills before, no matter how filthy your stories got, but now he certainly would.
Steve’s head snapped to you at instant, cheeks flushed, eyes wide as he was caught red-handed.
“You- uh, you weren’t supposed to… see that,” you stuttered awkwardly, still unable to move an inch.
Maybe you should run for the hills just so you wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath?
He didn’t react apart from spinning in the chair to face you, throat working again as his gaze trailed up and down your figure clad in a simple shirt and shorts, fluffy socks to keep your feet warm. Despite your plain outfit, his gaze burned with intensity and dare to say hunger, enough to stir heat in your belly.
Realizing this might be the last time you’d ever see him (okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, maybe, but better safe than sorry), you let yourself to take him in as well, again, even if you knew every line of his body, every detail. The cut of his jaw, tendons in his throat tense as well as his shoulders, long fingers griping the armrests, legs slightly parted, accenting the unmistakable growing bulge between them.
Your heart skipped a startled and excited beat. Oh. Well. At least he liked what he read, you supposed, even if all bells in your head were ringing it alarm, because… that. That kind of story would be a little too much for him, you had thought.
Was it?
“Come here,” he whispered, voice hoarse as if he had just woken up, the same voice that caressed your ear as he rutted into you, in the lazy loving which so perfectly fit a morning like this.
Willing your feet to move, teeth sunk into your lower lip, your fluffy socks padded almost soundlessly against the floor as you obeyed his request.
He gestured for you to rid yourself of the items in your hands; once again, you obliged.
The second your hands were free, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a dirty kiss, fingers sinking into your hair to keep you exactly where he wanted you. Sighing in relief, you relaxed into his affection and he wasted no time licking into your mouth, his free hand gripping onto your shirt (his shirt) to drag you into his lap.
A hazardous position in an office chair, one might think. But you had a lot of practice with your favourite professor.
Sliding lower in the seat and pulling you up, Steve positioned you to his liking, drawing an appreciative hum from you as his erection rubbed deliciously against your core. You felt him smile into the kiss at the little sound you made, his fingers digging into your flesh in order to press you into him further, rutting against your quickly dampening centre.
Okay, who were you kidding. You had been writing down your filthy fantasy, you were already soaked, Steve’s movements and apparent enthusiasm just adding to the heat. A whine escaped your lips when he withdrew a fraction, giving you a chance to breathe, hand slipping under your shorts to fondle your lower cheek.
“Well, I did see it, sweetheart,” Steve said lowly, a little too short of breath for the teasing to work in his favour. Still, your stomach twisted in anticipation of what was to follow. “And I want it.”
Your eyes snapped open, your lips parting in awe, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You met his eyes, dark pupils having almost swallowed the blue of his irises, gaze intent to prove his point. Fuck. You could come right now if he kept you sitting exactly as you were and watching you like that.
It was one thing to see him react to your fantasy laid bare for him to see – voluntarily or not – but him admitting it out loud, well that was just a whole new fucking level.
Now the idea of that actually being doable was planted in our brain and your core clenched at the wistful image you had painted with your words.
It took you another minute of staring at each other to realize what exactly he was saying without explicitly voicing it.
“Wait, right now?” you blurted out breathlessly, a single nod and a kiss to the corner of your mouth your only answer.
Fuck. Shit. Okay.
“A-alright. Let’s do this then,” you stuttered, as thrilled as nervous.
You didn’t expect that – but you weren’t one to let the opportunity pass. You framed Steve’s face with your palms, his beard rough against your skin, and pressed your lips to his in a hurried kiss, eager to get him where you needed him before he changed his mind. Last grind of your hips, swallowing his content hum, you climbed from his lap to search for something that would hold.
“Bed. Now.”
Your fingers were shaking a bit under his intent gaze as they slipped under his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. Steve was sitting on the bed now, legs parted enough for you to stand between them, watching our every move. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to the way he was looking at you – so tender, with longing and yet with such lust.
It lit your nerves on fire in the worst and best ways and that was alright with you, as long as you’d get to keep him.
He smiled at you softly, a little quirk to his eyebrow when he caught you staring and not springing into action just yet.
“What is it, babygirl?”
His hands trailing up your waist made it harder to answer.
You sighed, feeling your earlier confidence wavering. “You’re just so fucking pretty, it’s unreal.”
His lips curled up in a smirk, but the light in his eyes gave away just how much the compliment meant for him. He pulled you closer, a breathy kiss landing on your clothed stomach.
“That coming from you… could look at you all day, you must already know that,” he murmured to your shirt, sending a sparkle of courage up your chest.
You ruffled his hair and pushed him away with a chuckle, mirroring his previous smirk.
“Well, you won’t, not this time,” you sing-sang cheekily, stepping over his thigh to kneel on the bed behind him, hearing his breath catch, his hand brushing your thigh as you danced out of his reach.
Placing the scarf over his forehead first, you felt your insides twist in anticipation, fingertips tingling. God, you were really doing this.
“You ready, Professor Rogers?” you hummed to his ear, marvelling at the effect the title had on him, always, as his hands clenched into fists on his thighs.
“When you say it like that, babygirl? Yes, I am,” he grumbled, causing you to bit down on your lip.
Making sure you didn’t tie the knot too tight nor too loose, you moved the fabric so it would cover his eyes.
“Good?”
“Uh-huh,” was his wordless answer as you let your hands slid to his bare shoulders.
Steve was undoubtedly a specimen. He was every male-attracted person’s wet dream and you were the one getting your hands on him. You thanked heaven and hell for it every day. The barely visible lines of his abs, toned chest… but Christ, it was his back that would be your downfall.
Allowing your hands to wander, your fingertips traced the hard lines of his deltoids, a featherlight touch making him shudder and your mouth to actually salivate. Dropping a kiss between his shoulder blades, you scooted closer so you were literally breathing down his neck, palms sprawled over his triceps, caressing his thick biceps, down his forearms and over his fists and all the way back up.
It was almost like a beginning of a massage, you supposed, but no one could blame you if you were enjoying the sensation on your palms a little too much. You didn’t get the opportunity to appreciate Steve’s physique like this often enough. So you indulged yourself a few more times, applying more pressure, dropping a kiss to the crook of his neck every once in a while. He winced at the accidental scrape of your nails up his forearm, causing you to halt in your movements.
“You still good?” you questioned quietly, genuinely worried for a second. You realized he had barely made a sound so far.
“You could say that, yeah,” he choked out you felt your lips curl up into a smile. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, you took notice of the unmistakable hard outline on his sweatpants and gleefully resumed your movements, nibbling on his shoulder before soothing the skin with a gentle lick. “Babygirl…”
“Yeah?”
“You know what. Don’t test me,” he warned, only making you smile wider.
“Or what?”
He turned his head to side despite not being able to see you, giving you a perfect view of how tense was his jaw. Oh, you could imagine the stern look he wanted to scold you with.
“Or you’re not gonna like what’s to come when I put my hands on you,” he threatened, sighing exasperatedly when you replied with a barely audible ‘promise?’.
“In all seriousness though… what if you… uhm, couldn’t?” you asked reluctantly, not keen on sharing what you wanted… but wanting it really badly. You were sensing a pattern within yourself, seriously.
“I don’t follow--- oh,” escaped him soundlessly as your fingers attempted to wrap around his wrists and squeezed to give him a hint. “I don’t know about that, I mean-“
You felt your hear sink in disappointment, but you tried not to let it show, wondering how to try to convince him one more time. Sure, if it was a no-no, then you wouldn’t force him, he never forced you into anything either and this was about your mutual pleasure, but… now, having him partially at your mercy, the idea nudged insistently on your mind and the image of him with his hands tied above his head while you could do anything you pleased… you might have been soaking the shorts and the sheets at that.
“We don’t have to, Steve,” you assured him kindly, hundred percent honest despite planning on playing dirty. Your hands moved to his abdomen, caressing their way up his chest, accidently brushing over his left nipple, your lips moving to his ear. “But I’d be so good to you…”
“Babygirl,” he whispered, out of breath as your hand wandered down his happy trail, slipping just under the hem of his sweats, the fingers of your other hand moving to the neglected nipple, this time shamelessly toying with it.
“I’d be such a good girl for you, Professor Rogers,” you promised, keeping the smile off your voice when you heard him gulp, his cock visibly twitching. “I’d be really, really nice. Don’t you want that, Professor?”
“Y-yeah, yeah, okay-“
“Good choice,” you said approvingly, dropping a kiss to his cheek, making him groan and probably regret his decision already. You stood up, quickly looking for something you could use. “Just so you know, I think this is where the same rule applies,” you noted matter-of-factly. “You don’t like something I do, you want me to stop at any point, you tell me. I really want this to be good for you, Steve. So. What’s the word?”
From the front, you could see the blush that spread over his chest, causing you to bite your lip and nearly stumble over your feet. Good lord, Steve blindfolded, all flushed and waiting for you on the bed so you could do your worst--- now that was a sight to behold.
“Uhm… Waterloo?”
You bit your cheek so you wouldn’t laugh at his choice. It was cute and ridiculous... but also kinda hot, because well, Steve’s brains were just another turn-on for you. Of course he would choose something like that. Professor Steven Grant Rogers, history buff, certified hot nerd, the sweetest man to ever walk the Earth.
You pressed your lips together to prevent yourself from smiling too wide. You didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like he could see you.
“Okay. Waterloo it is,” you said, swiftly moving to the closet when another idea popped in your head.
Slipping into a new outfit before heading back, you were rather satisfied with yourself as you grabbed the two ties you found prior. Not that it would actually hold him – it was about the idea.
“You’re taking a bit long, babygirl…”
“And? You mind?” you teased him, stopping to stand in front of him. “Have some… pressing issues?”
“Keep it up, babygirl, see what happens once this is over,” he bit back, only making you chuckle at the perfect pass.
“I think there’s something else that’s up--- sorry, sorry,“ you mumbled when his hand landed blindly on your thigh.
His brows furrowed when he felt the difference.
“You changed.”
“Uh-huh.”
His hand trailed up curiously, right under your miniskirt and you let him… just until air got stuck in his throat upon finding you with nothing but the generous amount of slick covering your core.
“Fuck-“
“Nope,” you replied cheekily, even if the flicker of his finger caused you to shudder, his touch like liquid fire at this point.
Fuck, you wanted him. You wanted him right now and you wanted him to take you in every way he wanted… but the idea of him at your mercy was appealing enough for you to control yourself.
You grasped his wrist and shoved it away; he allowed it, but not without whining pitifully.
“Lie down, Steve, please. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
“You better,” he grunted, unwillingly moving up the bed, obediently spreading out on the sheets and letting you guide his arms up as you climbed over him and tied his wrists together.
“Not too tight?”
He shook his head, a smirk crossing over his lips. You rolled your eyes at the double meaning, but you guessed it served you right.
Oh, but would you wipe that smirk off…
Securing the knot, you shifted to be face to face with him, lips hovering just above his mouth, breathing the same air and hoping to begin the sweet torture.
You had to admire his patience; despite definitely noticing your positions, Steve didn’t move an inch. It was up to you then – and the premise sent another thrill through your veins. Oh, you’d break him in the most delicious ways.
As soon as you erased the distance, his lips sunk into yours hungrily, wet and soft in the contrast to his beard, the sensation you adored, having you squirming above him until you remembered again that you were the one in control.
You kissed him with vigour, licking into his mouth, one hand still where his were joined, the other pressing against his chest. Your tongue met his, revelling at his taste and at another of his tries to dominate the kiss, to set things as they usually were. But as much as you loved it when he took charge… not today.
Parting abruptly, his lips following on instinct, you couldn’t but grin to yourself. Kissed his fingertips, you lingered at the one still glistening with your juices. You took it to your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and sucking lightly, feeling Steve’s heart speed up under your palm like crazy.
When you lightly grazed the skin with your teeth, his groan and the way his hips thrusted upward was the best reward you could get.
Kissing a trail down his arm – because goddammit you loved his arms – you hummed to yourself contentedly whenever you could feel the slightest shift of his body under yours and greedy for more contact, you allowed yourself to put most of your weight fully on him.
The choked sound it elicited from him startled you at first – until you realized that with your skirt hiked up, you weren’t the only one enjoying the skin-on-skin contact, your slick coating Steve’s lower stomach just above his sweats. Hopefully it was giving him ideas – it was certainly was to you.
Rustle of fabric, ragged breaths, occasional smacking noise when you moved up or left a small hickey on his shoulder and above his collarbone. Your fingers toyed gently with his nipples as you kissed his sternum before replacing your hands with your mouth once more, sucking, drawing a quiet whimper from him.
Fuck couldn’t get enough of the noises he was making. The pretty breathless moans of your name, the curses slipping from his lips… it was like music, but on a desperately low volume.
“What is it you always tell me?” you teased, lamely covering for the fact that your own arousal was nearly uncontainable. Shit, you loved how sensitive his nipples were… how much more sensitive he must have been now, no visual, laser focused on every touch instead? You wanted more… so much more. “Don’t hold these pretty sounds from me?”
Steve gritted his teeth at the remark, but as soon as you positioned your heat directly over his hard length and rolled your hips, he sang for you beautifully.
“Shit, sweetheart-“
The rush of confidence, the feeling of power was almost overwhelming – the image of him, lips parted in mute pleasure, certainly was. You were a little too close to climbing your own peak a little too quickly to your liking.
Sitting up straight, you undulated your hips few times, hands tracing patterns over Steve’s rapidly rising chest and abs. Much to his obvious dislike, you all too soon slid lower, your mouth making its way down his abdomen and then you finally, finally rid him of his sweatpants and boxers in one go.
His cock sprang free, hard and red at the tip, leaking just enough to cause your mouth to water and your thighs to rub together to give yourself some of the friction you craved so much.
Hands planted on his hips, you kissed along his hip bones and the apex of his thighs, taking your sweet time exploring everything you could – except for where you suspected he wanted you the most. You had to grin for yourself when you cupped his balls, causing him to hiss in relief, the muscles of his abdomen and legs clenching beautifully.
“Talk to me, Steve,” you hummed as you replaced your hand with your tongue, licking a stripe towards his base.
“Christ- don’t stop--“
“Eloquent as always, Professor,” you retreated, causing him to let out a growly sound you never heard before and had your core tingle, cunt feeling awfully empty.
Christ was right, alright. Seeing his chest heaving, fingers twitching as if he wanted nothing but to tug at your hair to keep you there and stuff your mouth full of his cock--- if you didn’t get some soon, you might actually combust.
So you put your mouth back to work on his sack again, fingers barely curling around the base of his cock, giving a first experimental stroke before you squeezed a bit tighter – and then swiftly moved away, his hips following on instinct in, craving more.
“For fuck’s --- how did I ever think you were sweet and nice?” he complained huskily, impatience lacing his voice.
You chuckled, but heard him out, leaving his balls in order to give more attention to his impressive and possibly painfully hard length.
“Beats me,” you retorted, hands busy with gentle strokes to his shaft. “I mean, we literally got together thanks to you finding out I wrote about sucking and riding your dick right in your office, Professor Rogers.”
“You little-“
His protests died in his throat, features twisting in wordless pleasure when you finally wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, delivering a few kitten licks to the tip. His taste exploded on your tongue, eliciting a content hum which he certainly felt too, because a jerk of his hips pushed him deeper to your mouth.
Slowly swallowing as much as you could without having him hit the back of your throat, you curled your hand tighter around the base and started bobbing your head.
A string of breathless profanities left his mouth whenever you squeezed, only getting filthier when you hollowed your cheeks. It was all encouragement you needed to take him deeper, giving him a taste of heaven as his tip brushed the back of your throat.
“Babygirl, fuck, fuck, yeah--- just like that…”
Your own arousal became unbearable, a surge of hot need squeezing your insides at Steve’s praise. Slipping a hand under your skirt, you sighed in relief when your fingers caressed your lower lips, hips bucking forward in desperate need of more.
Your predicament was impossible to solve – you wanted him inside you already, so badly, but fuck the picture Steve made, even if blurry as tears prickled your eyes whenever he hit the back of your throat, was just too divine.
Lips crimson with how he kept biting at them to keep at least a little quiet, hair sticking to his forehead, muscles drawn tight like strings as he kept clenching them both unwittingly and consciously in hope to get you where he wanted you and the fresh taste of him whenever you did something he particularly liked--- you simply had to feast your eyes on him. And he couldn’t do the same… or take charge for that matter.
So fucking pretty like this.
And you were the only one seeing him like that, tied up, helpless against the assault on his senses sans vision. He gave himself up to you like that, willingly. The thought warmed you up inside out, enough to drive you nearly as crazy as if you were in his place.
Wasting no time with preparation you didn’t need, you pushed two fingers into your core at once, whimpering around Steve’s cock when you did. Your whole body relaxed, the pent-up desire easing a little and yet burning hotter. You pumped your fingers slowly, the sensation so blissful you had to remind yourself to keep working on Steve too.
Still, your actions didn’t go unnoticed.
“Are you—are you touching yourself, babygirl?” he whispered, tongue peeking out to wet his lips.
It took you a second to swallow the baseless embarrassment and literally swallow, causing Steve to let out a moan so wrecked and pretty you felt your pussy clamp around your fingers.
Hoping your words would come out less shy than you felt when saying them, you released Steve’s length with a wet pop to tease him some more.
“Yeah, I am…. Why? You want a taste?” you asked sweetly, clearing your throat that suddenly felt so empty.
The guttural moan that erupted in Steve’s chest was music to your ears, his cock twitching and glistening with fresh beads of precum a sight to behold.
“Yeah, babygirl… give it to me,” he choked out and the genuine desire in his voice was like a punch to your solar plexus. Your walls clenched around your fingers, the familiar coil in your abdomen tightening.
Swallowing a pitiful sigh at the loss, you stretched over the warm length of Steve’s body, gulping when his own parted in invitation.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Reluctantly, you let the fingers sticky with your juices brush over Steve’s lips, gasping when his tongue instantly slid out to lick at the essence eagerly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Fuck, always so sweet, babygirl…” he muttered, your breath stuck in your throat when his mouth blindly chased after your fingers before you could withdraw your hand.
“Oh my god-“ you choked out, mesmerized, your pussy clamping around nothing.
He sucked greedily, the image alone causing your hips to rut against his, your clit catching against his rock-hard shaft. Your eyes fluttered close in bliss, stars exploding behind your eyelids.
Unwittingly, you worked your hips faster, riding Steve’s thick cock even without having him inside. The friction, the soaked fabric of your skirt brushing against your clit, the sensation of Steve’s tongue lapping at your fingers as if he had his mouth on your pussy instead--- you felt the coil in your belly snap, the world turning white before you knew how.
You came with a broken cry, blissed out and shocked at the sudden release, but riding your pleasure out on instinct.
Grazing your fingers with his teeth as he let go, Steve spoke words so filthy our head spun.
“That’s it, babygirl. Fuck. Look how little my girl needed to come all over my cock. Using me so shamelessly. You must have really wanted it, didn’t you…” he said, voice hoarse with a tint of smugness as you came back from your high, the dirty talk only already riling you up again.
You had no idea what just happened, but you had a feeling Steve immensely enjoyed it as he somehow got the upper hand on you despite being the one tied up.
For someone who was supposed to have all blood out of his brain and have it in his dick instead, he was way too smug… but you’d reverse it again. He had no idea what was about to hit him.
Stealing a kiss to taste ourself on his tongue, your fingers went to remove the blindfold.
Your professor was, in certain aspects, still just a simple guy – he liked a good visual. It was silly of you to rid him of it in the first place, no matter how much fun you had with it.
Steve blinked in surprise, squinting against the sudden light, while you slipped out of your bralette, leaving you in nothing but your very schoolgirl-like mini skirt. You smiled at him sweetly, kissing his mouth once more, thumb softly brushing his lips as you towered over him, nearly giving him a view of what was under the fabric.
“I always want you,” you whispered with a smile, your hand cupping your breast, gently tweaking your nipple, his gaze following the movement as his fingers twitched. You bit the inside of your cheek, hand slowly trailing down. “Want you to touch me, everywhere. Always so wet and ready for you…”
Dark eyes watched you as you slipped your fingers under the waist of the skirt, a tiny mewl escaping you when the pad of your fingers bumped into your clit.
You would have felt stupid trying to give him a show after you came after almost nothing, but the warning growl of your name once again assured you that unsexy was the last thing that came to Steve’s mind when looking at you. It warmed both your belly and your heart. You almost felt regretful for a moment that you were still keeping him hanging, neglecting his no doubt aching cock, but he thought he had the upper hand here.
He was wrong.
“Always thinking of you… even when I’m alone, always thinking about your fingers, stretching me so good, about you fucking me, so hard till I’m screaming your name,” you continued in hushed voice, revelling at how tight his jaw set, eyes narrowed, breathing once again picking up.
“Babygirl—”
“Oops, sorry,” you chipped, pecking his lips as you withdrew your hand, quickly drawing a trail of kisses down his chest and abdomen, unable to resist a lick here and there where the line of his muscles looked particularly tasty. “Just thought you’d like to see my mouth on you. You like to watch, Professor Rogers, no?”
He never got a chance to answer as you guided him to your mouth again, holding his gaze as he indeed watched, eyebrows furrowing, each breath hitching, soon chanting your name. You caressed his balls as well, tongue tracing the vein on the underside of his length, your other hand firmly around his base.
You were the first to avert his gaze as your eyes fluttered close so you could fully focus on your task, relaxing your throat.
“Babygirl--- fuck me-- I’m gonna-“
You eased up a bit, earning a frustrated growl, the corners of your lips rising a bit as you imagined the ugly glare he must have shot you.
Thinking about it, closing your eyes was a mistake.
You never saw it coming as a hand suddenly sunk into your hair, yanking you up face to face with him, alarmed eyes staring into black ones as his pupils nearly swallowed all the blue or his irises.
He had slipped out of the poorly tied bonds, clearly fed up with your shenanigans.
Ah-oh, sounded in the back of your mind.
Another part of you didn’t fail to notice that despite the swift movement and calling an end to your games, Steve’s fingers were careful not to pull too harshly, making sure he was cradling your head safely. Same when he rolled you over, trapping you under the hard lines of muscle you had been tasting a moment ago, protective cage of his arms around your head.
If you weren’t so startled, you would have swooned.
You never got the chance, because any possible sound was muffled by his mouth crashing into yours, hand slipping from your nape to your throat to keep you in place with a wordless warning, hips pressed to yours just in case you would want to escape.
You would never. Even if you had a hunch Steve was about to ruin you in a way that would have you feel it for days.
Having enough of your mouth for the moment, giving you a chance to gasp for air, he stared at you smugly, one corner of his perfectly red lips raised in a smirk.
“Wicked little thing, aren’t you?” he grunted, thumb caressing the hollow of your throat softly, causing you to gulp.
You summoned your best innocent look, doe-like eyes that usually worked. “S-sorry?”
A flicker of a smile as he forced his knee between your thighs, instantly pressing against your still sensitive core.
“I don’t think you are, babygirl,” he huffed, nosing the crook of your neck, biting down sharper than you expected, a yelp erupting from your throat. He soothed in with the pad of his thumb, smiling wide, something soft in his eyes when he looked at you again. You were so fucking baffled at what that meant. ”That perfect filthy mind of yours… and you still get a bit shy, huh?”
“W-what?”
“You know what I think, babygirl?” he whispered intimately, teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “I think that you left the document opened on purpose.”
Your rapidly beating heart stopped in your chest, wind knocked out of you completely.
Fuck.
You were so busted.
Steve had read you like a book wide open--- because of course he did.
Yes, there had been a great part of you who wished for him to see it, hoping in this exact outcome; there had been an equally great part dreading what he would think about you. Writing the story down, you were thinking a bit more with your pussy than your brain though, so you decided to leave it for Steve to read. If he went for it, maybe you’d get something from it. If he didn’t, you’d move on. No harm no fool, right?
Right. No.
Now he did know and saw right through your little trick. And damn, did he look proud of himself for figuring it out. You were in so much trouble.
Somehow, you were as horrified as excited.
Steve chuckled as you swallowed against your suddenly dry throat, eyes no doubt wide as saucers.
“Oh, you did. Too shy to ask for it, leaving that to me instead. My sneaky, needy girl,” he muttered, fondness and humour with a dark lilt in his voice.
“I—I didn’t know how-“ you stuttered, feeling your face burning in embarrassment at his tone, just a smidge patronizing.
You averted his gaze, a vain attempt really, knowing he wouldn’t let you. Slipping two fingers under your chin, he guided you to face him again.
“Didn’t know how… hmm… so you thought you’d play me? That’s really naughty, sweetheart.”
“I’m sorry… Professor Rogers,” you added quickly in hopes to mollify him, indeed earning a sweet kiss.
“Oh, it’s okay, babygirl. You know why?” he tested you and you could only shake your head lightly, guessing at best what kind of revenge awaited you. “Because you’re my good girl and you’ll let me settle the score. I’ll play with you now. It’s only fair, no?”
Oh fuck, here it came.
For a brief second, his lust-filled eyes appeared startingly clear and sober, boring into yours with a serious question.
It’s only fair, no? he had said.
It’s alright with you if the roles reverse, right? was what he was truly asking, checking, always checking if you were okay, just like you had been checking with him.
Because sex was fun, but only if all parties were on board.
Because Steve was sweet, considerate, soft and loving and he was everything you ever looked for in a man and more. You trusted him. You always did and you trusted him now – he would make you feel so so good. It was never really a question.
“Y—yes, it is.”
“Good girl,” he praised you, causing your core to weep. And he knew it, oh did he know and shamelessly used it against you... a little payback to all the professor you’d been throwing around. “Close your eyes.”
And you did. The blindfold came first, then hands, his fingers skimming over your forearms teasingly, feather-light touch on your sensitive skin, before he finally brought them up and tied them together.
“You ready, sweetheart?”
No, you were absolutely not ready, but your body was buzzing with desire again at that point, so you breathed a soft yes. And maybe, just maybe… no matter how you had enjoyed driving him crazy, cheeky and full of feeling of power, this felt like home. Because you trusted him – and so you gave yourself to him wholly.
He hummed in contentment as you confirmed, causing you shiver as he nosed the skin under your ear. “Good. Because I’m going to wreck you for that little stunt of yours.”
His words tickled the sensitive skin and shit, okay, your nerve endings were tingling, the sensation amplified tenfold with your eyes covered. Steve really was going to wreck you.
Mouth moving to your breast, he took the nipple in his mouth, shifting so the head of his cock nudged at your weeping opening, pushing just a bit with a promise of a delicious stretch, almost, almost there.
“Please,” was all you managed to breathe out, growing impatient, hissing when gave a playful bite to the underside of your breast, sending a surge of arousal through your veins. You back arched, a mewl escaping your when Steve moved his hips away completely, denying you.
“And you’re gonna take it, aren’t you?” he muttered to your skin, lips trailing lower and lower, warm and soft, beard leaving behind a delicious burn.
“Y- yes.”
“Good girl. And what else are you going to do? Tell me,” he encouraged you, large palms pushing your thighs apart so he could fit the insanely broad shoulders between them.
Mind foggy with need, senses overwhelmed, you still had enough wits to understand what he wanted to hear.
“Thank you,” you breathed out.
“Damn straight.” His words were a damp hot blow of air against your mound, causing your hips to jolt as if your body was begging to be taken apart by him already – blissfully aware of how he would put it back together again.
And with an inevitable scratch to your lower lips and a kitten lick to your swollen bud for starters, Steve did.
Attached masterlist
S.R. masterlist
I sincerely apologize for twisting the prompt and not even being able to write a soft enough fic the one time I’m supposed to.
But I hope you enjoyed anyway. I mean, if you made it to the end…
Thank you for reading :-*
Your Anika I’m-Not-a-Smut-Writer Ann
P.S. Fic loosely relates to one of the reblogs of this series: “You know one good thing about being an erotic writer is - you don’t have to talk about your embarrassing kinks. You want to tie your boyfriend up? You just email him a story about it 'subtly’ hinting at it.” Close enough?
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