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#Snake Cog
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“Thought you could get away from me little bluejay?”
- ⚙️🐍
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askpenpals · 20 days
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Bugsy! Favorite color, favorite food, and do you have any pets?
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existentialflirt · 10 months
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@v0litioncheck prompted: [ TOUCH ] az to crowley <3
[TOUCH ]:          while touching the receiver’s waist, the sender’s hand briefly dips beneath the hem of their shirt, skimming briefly across the bare skin of their waist.
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Aziraphale didn’t bother opening his store on Sundays. Not that the bookshop had ever turned much of a profit. It was a miracle that he kept such prime real estate in Soho. Literally. He had probably been burning miracles by the year just to avoid the nastier bits of being a business owner. The demon didn’t begrudge him. It meant the angel lingered in bed without Crowley doing any extra convincing.
Even after being introduced to the wonders of sleeping (Crowley still didn’t understand how its charm had been lost on his hedonistic angel), Aziraphale was usually up at least five hours before the demon even started to stir. Lately he’d been disturbed by how little reading he’d been getting done since the antichrist had been sent to Earth and all the ensuing chaos. As things had settled down, Aziraphale had taken to bringing books back to his flat. Never anything too terribly valuable. Those stayed at the bookstore, but Crowley was starting to worry he might have to actually install a bookshelf to keep them in some kind of order. He didn’t like the clutter, even if it was Aziraphale’s clutter.
As he drowsed comfortably beside the angel, he became starkly aware of his wandering touch. Only one hand was being occupied keeping his book open, after all, and the other had strayed to Crowley’s waist and slipped under the impossibly soft tee shirt he was wearing. Aziraphale’s touch burned, it always had. The first few times they’d been intimate, he’d been convinced the angel’s touch would brand him indelibly. Crowley had secretly been disappointed when it hadn’t. He sighed as the soft touch left fire in its wake, making him squirm under Aziraphale’s fingertips.
“You readin’ or teasin’?” Crowley grumbled as he shifted to his side. The angel’s caress followed the motion, making him shiver as it ghosted just below his navel. “Cos y’can’t do both, angel.” His voice was still muzzy with sleep, ever so slightly heavier and darker than usual.
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perichuuu · 1 year
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a drawing based on my last post and the first techbot designs: https://www.reddit.com/r/Toontown/comments/39a107/quick_designs_of_techbot_cog_ideas/
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That's What Friends Are For Pt. 2- E.M.
I'm so thankful for all of the love on part one! I love each and every one of you, and I hope that you enjoy!
The morning after Eddie helps you with your first orgasm, you get to experience more new things.
Part 1
Masterlist
TW- 18+ Minors DNI, smut, cursing, pnv, first time, pet names (angel, sweetheart, baby), a lil crying (the good kind), slight fingering, handjob (lmk if I missed any!)
Pairings- Virgin!Bestfriend!Reader x Eddie
Word Count- 4,402
(Gifs not mine, Credit to owners!)
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With a deep breath, your mind comes close to consciousness, rolling over into the warm being lying next to you. You’re about to delve back into the depths of sleep when you feel his arm snake over your waist, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss into your hair. You hum in satisfaction, cracking your eyes open with a smile forming on your lips, eyes searching for Eddie.  
You look up at him through the bleary film of sleep and find him looking down at you, the morning light filtering through the curtains and highlighting the sweet freckles littered across his nose and cheeks. The bun he slept in is almost completely unraveled, wild curls formed in a sort of halo around him. “Good morning, gorgeous,” He says quietly. He still has the rasp of sleep in his voice, so you know he hasn’t been awake long. You take another deep breath and stretch your toes down, arms up in a catlike motion that loosens your muscles.  
“Morning, handsome,” Your sleepy smile makes him chuckle, and he presses another kiss to your hair, the hand over your waist rubbing sweet circles on the exposed skin where your shirt had hiked in your sleep. 
“How are you feeling?” There’s a quirk of his eyebrow, almost imperceptible. There’s a subtext there: Do you remember and/or regret what we did last night? 
You stretch up a hand to his face, letting your thumb brush over his cheekbone before gently pulling him down to meet your lips. It’s a sweet kiss, slow and thoughtful. Last night was fucking awesome, it says. “I feel perfect,” If Eddie were a cartoon, he swears he’d have hearts and stars floating around his head at the way you look, the way you feel, the way you speak to him, and he curses himself for not snatching you up sooner. “What time is it?” It’s a Saturday. You don’t have to work today, but checking the clock when you wake up is always part of your routine.  
Eddie reaches for the windowsill next to his bed to pick up his watch, to glance at the face. His lean arms and broad hands bring back memories from last night so abruptly it almost makes your head spin. You feel a twitch between your thighs. “A little after ten,” He says, putting the watch back. “Why, do you have plans today?”  
“No, not really. But we could go to that farmer’s market later today if we wanted to. I like that stand that sells all those different kinds of honey,” Your hand finds his chest, fingers lightly tracing the tattoos you’ve memorized every detail of.  
“And what would we do if we didn’t want to?” He asks, eyebrow raised playfully. You feel your heart leap in your chest, what would you do? 
“I dunno. We could go get something from Benny’s. Or go see a movie,” You suggest. Eddie plays like he’s lost in thought, fingers drumming on his chin as he considers the options. “Or... We could lay in bed all day.” 
His eyes flick to you, “That sounds like a good option,” The lopsided, dimpled smile you love so much pulls at his lips before he dips his head down to capture you in a kiss again, and you giggle into the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest, calloused fingers digging lightly into your side. When you part, you rub your noses against each other, both of you still smiling. 
“Can I ask you something?” You mutter, the cogs turning in your head. 
“Anything,” Eddie presses a kiss to your nose, then your forehead. Your cheeks are beginning to ache from smiling so much. 
“I know we didn’t really say it last night, but I was wondering if we were like... boyfriend-girlfriend now? Or... I don’t know. Are we putting a label on us?” There’s a bit of hesitation in your voice, but not enough to really alarm Eddie. 
“Do you want to be boyfriend-girlfriend?” He asks, eyes widened a bit. You bite your lip and nod sheepishly, your fingers curling around the hair at the back of his neck. You didn’t think it was possible for his smile to be any more radiant than usual, but it is then as he leans in to kiss you again, the hand on your waist going to your face, cradling your cheek and jaw in his large hand. It makes you dizzy, and you run your hands down his back, the kiss deepening as you open your mouths to each other. As you rake your hands back up Eddie’s back, there’s a noise from the back of his throat, one that sets your nerves on fire. It’s so beautiful that you do it again, with the same glorious result. 
There’s a pounding in your chest as Eddie moves his lips down to your neck, and yours miss his skin so much you press them anywhere you can reach— the edge of his jaw, his shoulder, the base of his neck—and when Eddie sucks at that sweet spot below your ear, you let out a little whine, hands tightening around his lean frame again. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” He mutters against your skin. “I’m such an idiot for not doing this sooner,” 
You want to protest, to tell him that you’re the idiot for not bucking up sooner, but his hand roams up your side, over your ribs and you can’t help but sigh. “Eddie...” It’s all you can get out. It’s like you’re on drugs all over again, but the only drug here is the intoxicating feeling of Eddie—his hands, his mouth, his body—all over you. 
Eddie moves so that he’s hovering over you between your legs, and you whimper, loudly and unexpectedly, as he grinds against you. You can feel him throbbing through your shorts and his pants, and it’s the most erotic thing you’ve ever felt. Of course, that position doesn’t have much competition at this point, but nevertheless, it’s like your head is stuffed with cotton candy. You instinctively push your hips up to meet his, and Eddie moans again, a needier sound this time that has you feeling almost feral.  
Your hands fumble around, searching for the waistband of his pants, desperate to feel him, but Eddie pulls back, both of you panting lightly. “Are you sure you want to do this? I know I said if you still wanted to in the morning, we could, but I...” He looks away, not being able to find the words. 
You bite your lip, eyes wide and wanting. “Eddie, look at me,” You plead. There’s a worry on his face as he does, his chocolate eyes soft and gorgeous. “I want you so bad I feel like I could burst into flames. I have wanted you for as long as I’ve known you. I have thought of this, dreamed of this, for years. You are my best friend and I trust you with my life. So please...” 
“All I’m saying is that we don’t have to do this now. We can wait if you—” 
“Edward Munson, if you don’t get down here and do me right now I swear to god!” You threaten, and Eddie lets out a bubble of laughter from his throat at your seriousness.  
“Okay, okay, quit yanking my leg! I just wanted to make sure.” You smile at his smile and then you’re kissing again, all tongues and teeth as you paw at his pants again, nearly drooling at the thought of touching him. Eddie’s hand smooths down your body to your thigh, holding it up against his hip, fingertips digging deliciously into the meat of it.  
“Please,” You gasp between kisses, “c-can I touch you?” Eddie groans, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head. 
“God, yes,” You finally manage to get your fingers below his waistband, searching for his long, throbbing length that’s already painfully straining against his pants. When you touch it, it’s like you’ve been shocked by an electrical socket, right between your thighs. It’s so much warmer than you expected it to be, and softer, the skin smooth save for the thick vein running up the side. Though you can’t see it yet you know it’s going to be absolutely perfect. You gently grasp it as best you can in your position and give a experimental stroke. “Oh, my god. Fuck, angel,” Eddie gasps, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You bite your lip and stroke again, studying the way it feels in your hand. You’ve heard about what this is like from the few girlfriends you have. You can’t do it too hard, or it hurts like a bitch, You remember your friend saying. When you slide your hand up, you feel moisture dripping from the tip, and you gasp at the sensation. It’s hot and thick, and you get the sudden urge to taste it, but you hold back.  
Eddie’s having a rough time focusing on anything other than the feeling of his cock in your hand. The sounds he’s making have you getting hotter by the second, but you’re enjoying how much Eddie’s enjoying this, so you don’t mind. You try squeezing a little harder, not much, just enough to make a difference, and Eddie bites into your collarbone lightly, making you shiver. His hand on your thigh grips you harder. “If you- If you want me to last, sweetheart,” He pants, “You’re gonna need to stop that soon,” He involuntarily ruts into your hand then with another beautiful whimper. 
Suddenly, you don’t know if you want him to last. As much as you want him inside you, you also really enjoy the thought of making him unravel just like this. You gently pull your hand away, collecting the drips of precum at the tip before pulling out of his pants, and you marvel at the clear, sticky liquid pooled on your fingers before tentatively brushing it across your tongue. Eddie stares wide, mouth hung open like he’s seeing a fucking unicorn. “You’re fucking perfect,” He muses.  
You giggle, a blush growing on your cheeks. “I wanna see it,” You confess, eyes wide and doe-like. Eddie nods, his lips kiss swollen and pink as he sits up on his knees between your thighs. His fingers find the waistband of his pants and he shimmies them down, his cock bouncing up to lightly slap against his abdomen as he kicks the pants off his feet. “Oh my god,” You whisper.  
If you had to guess, you would say he’s about 7 inches. There’s a slight curve to it, and the tip is almost a hot pink and messy with precum. Your mouth starts watering again at the sight of it. Screw using your hand, you want him inside you. Now. “You want me to get your shorts off?” He asks, his voice husky from lust. You nod wildly, already lifting your butt off the mattress to help him. He hooks his fingers under the waistband and lowers his head to the tops of your thighs to kiss the skin there as he pulls them down. You let out a sharp whine at the new sensation and Eddie hums happily against you as you writhe beneath him. He sits up to pull the shorts from your legs to toss them to the floor with his pants, and just like last night, he looks at you beneath him like he’s just been served a gourmet meal. “So fucking beautiful,” You sit up then, reaching out to touch along his sides, breathing heavily as you press your lips to the space between his thighs and stomach. Eddie gasps above you, his head rolled back as you trace your tongue in little patterns, mirroring the path he took with his mouth on you. 
You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, wanting to be naked with him, wanting for every inch of skin to touch him when he marks you from the inside. You reach up to his neck and pull him down with you, mouths finding each other as you rest your head back on Eddie’s pillow. Eddie takes his time to peruse your newly naked skin with his mouth, kissing over the mounds of your breasts before gently pulling a nipple into his mouth. You moan deeply, tangling your fingers through his hair as he sucks gently, running his tongue over the hardened bud before seeking the other one. “God, Eddie, fuck. Please, I need you... Please,” you beg, sending your hips up in search of him. Eddie shushes you, bringing his lips back to yours.  
“I know, baby, I know,” He murmurs against your lips. “I’ve got you,” He leans over to his bedside table, pulling the drawer open. He fumbles through the junk for a moment before fishing out a little foil packet, which he rips open with his teeth. He tries putting the condom on with one hand while he supports himself with the other, but he fumbles, so you reach your hand down to help him, rolling it down to the base of his cock, earning another moan from him at the mere feeling of you. 
He looks back to your face, the hand not supporting him goes to your face, thumb brushing over your cheek. “This might hurt. I’m gonna go as slow as I can, but you’ll tell me if I need to stop, right?” He searches your eyes for any doubt. 
“I will,” You promise with a little nod. He mirrors your nod as he leans to kiss you again, and his hand goes down to the space between the two of you to position himself correctly to slide into you. He rubs the tip of his cock up and down your slit for a moment to spread the wetness before slowly, so slowly, he starts pushing himself past your tight entrance.  
You both gasp at the same time, clutching each other as you adjust. There’s a burn as you stretch open around him, and you’re not sure if going slow helps or hurts, but you can’t even think straight to decide. Behind the burn of being split open is a mind-crushing pleasure that has you curling your toes and arching your back. “Oh my god, oh my god,” You hear yourself cry. 
“I know, baby, fuck...” Eddie’s eyes are screwed shut, you assume to focus on not completely slamming into you. “So fucking tight, angel...” He mutters. It’s hard to keep your breath with the way you’re panting, but you try to focus on it as he inches into you. He whispers encouragement to you as he sinks in deeper and deeper until you feel him so deep you know he won’t be able to go any further.  
“Fuck, I feel so... full.” Your eyes screw shut as you feel the pressure of his head against your cervix. Eddie gives a strained chuckle and sighs. 
“I’m not even all the way in, sweetheart. I’m gonna have to do a better job warming you up next time. I just needed to fucking feel this,” He hangs his head against your chest, and your hands go to his hair, smoothing it out away from his face. You’re hips suddenly move on their own, and you both hiss a breath of pleasure at the delicious friction. “Oh fuck! Jesus, angel, you’re so fucking needy for it,” He moans, pressing hot, wet kisses to your shoulder before starting back up toward your face. 
“I-I’m sorry!” Your head is buzzing like a beehive, the only word you’re able to consciously focus on is EddieEddieEddieEddie. Eddie captures your lips again, your tongues smoothing across each other. 
“Don’t worry. I just didn’t expect it is all,” He heaves a breath, scrunching his eyes closed. “I- I think I need to start moving now, though. It’s a crime to sit still while I’m inside you,” The erotic praise sends another shockwave through you, and you nod.   
“Yeah, yeah, please do that,” You hang your head back on the pillow to let him do pretty much whatever he wants. You don’t know what you’re doing so you have to trust him to show you everything. He pulls out slowly, too, though not as slowly as he went in. You give a little whine as you feel the pleasure-pain again, and Eddie looks at you with alarmed eyes, but you nod at him for him to continue. He’s not all the way out when he starts pushing back in again, and you begin to feel more pleasure than pain. Your limbs are heavy and warm with pleasure as he starts setting a slow rhythm. 
Eddie’s hand hoists your thigh up around his hip again, and the new angle offers deeper pleasure than before, making you moan as he pushes in again. “Oh my god,” You whine, your fingertips grasping at the skin of his back. Your lips search for Eddie’s face, and you kiss across his cheek to his lips, feeling the vibration of his moan on your mouth.  
“You feel—so fucking—so fucking good, baby.” His words are strained, he’s so focused on going slow enough to not cause you pain, but he’s also suffering for it. He wants nothing more than to be able to fuck you deep into the mattress, hard and fast. But maybe next time. He’ll be good for you. He’ll be so good for you. 
“A little faster, please,” You plead, your breath coming in uneven and heavy. Eddie is all to eager to provide, gradually working the pace up a bit, his hips hitting yours a bit harder in a way that makes your breasts bounce on your chest with every snap of his hips. “Oh, fuck—” He’s hit something different now, something deep inside you that makes your vision go fuzzy for a minute, then he hits it again. You let out a tense whine at the contact, and your nails dig into his back. 
“You like that, angel? Fuck, does that feel good?” In a different tone, it would sound taunting, but the way Eddie’s voice drips with need, you know that he’s begging to hear the answer. 
“God, yes—feels so fucking good, Ed,” You feel your eyes start to itch with tears, and you hold back a choked sob as he continues fucking into you. He presses hot kisses to your neck, and you move one of your hands to grasp at the hand supporting him on the bed. He moves to accommodate, careful to keep himself up while you thread your fingers together above your head.  
“So fucking good for me. You’re so pretty, sweetheart. I’ve got you, don’t you worry.” He squeezes your hand, his other does the same to the meat of your thigh, making you buck your hips beneath him without meaning to.  
You continue like this for a few minutes, suspended somewhere otherworldly as you push each other closer and closer toward that undiluted bliss you felt for the first time last night. Between the kissing and the sighs, Eddie releases the hand he’s holding. “I need you to do something, sweetheart,” He rasps. You nod eagerly, trying to keep your focus on what he’s saying to you. “I’m- fuck, I’m getting pretty close. And I want you to cum with me. So I want you to take these pretty fingers,” He leans down to kiss them one by one, nibbling on the very tips of them, “and I want you to go down and rub your clit for me, okay? You remember how I did it last night?” You nod again, beginning to run your hand down between your bodies in search of that magic button Eddie brought you to tears with. 
You shiver when you brush over it, letting out a mewl. “That’s a good girl,” Eddie encourages. “Take your fingers and rub it in circles. Not too hard, you don’t want to bruise it,” 
“’Kay,” You start trying to find a rhythm, starting slow, moving the pads of your fingers over the swollen bud. You start to feel it drive your pleasure forward, so you keep your focus on it, trying not to lose your rhythm.  
“That’s it, angel. You’re doing so good for me. Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me. Don’t stop pretty girl, I wanna feel you cum on my cock,” You drink in the words like water, ignoring the pain beginning in your inexperienced wrist as you continue, pressing a bit harder, circling a little faster on instinct.  
“Oh my God, Eddie,” You whine, “feels so fucking good,” You’re getting that crying feeling again now, like your body is working in overdrive to accommodate for the blanket of sensation around you. 
“I know, I know, baby,” He moans, capturing you in a sloppy kiss. Your tears spill over your eyes then, falling in hot drips down your face, cooling as they reach your neck. You shiver, from that and from hitting a certain spot around your clit. You gasp, and the tension in your stomach starts building. 
“Oh my God,” You whine again. “I’m-- I think I’m getting close.” You let your eyes screw shut, lewd noises spilling from your lips like a waterfall as you get closer and closer to release. 
“Fuck, I know, pretty girl. I am too. So fucking close,” He’s panting above you, “Don’t you stop. Make yourself cum on my cock. I know you can do it, angel. Cum for me, please, baby. I wanna feel it,” His voice is so sweet and needy in your ear that you can feel your body begin to unravel, the tension in your stomach teetering on a tightrope. 
Then, the tightrope snaps, and you have to bite back a scream, tears flooding down your face as you descend into a dizzying orgasm. Your vision blackens around the edges as your walls clamp around Eddie’s cock, and he starts spewing profanities, his thrusts get sloppier. With a low moan into your neck, you feel him twitch inside you, hips stuttering as he reaches his own peak. You keep rubbing at your clit, like Eddie did after you came last night, and it does seem to keep the waves rolling through you for a little longer. Finally, when your wrist is too tired to move anymore, you let your fingers come to a stop, and you let your hand flop to the side, both of you sucking breaths to try to regain your composure. You let your eyes flutter closed again as you let your soul return to your body, and Eddie leans down to kiss anywhere his lips can reach.  
You revel in the feeling, knowing that if you died spontaneously, you’d do it with a smile, and soon Eddie is easing himself out of you, adjusting his lower body so that he can lay his head on your chest without completely crushing you. “Sweetheart?” He asks. “Are you okay?” There’s a slight laugh in his voice, but he can see the tears on your face.  
In response, you raise a hand to run through his hair, not remembering how to speak yet, and give a slow nod. You can feel a smile rising on your lips, lazy and dreamy, like this had all been some beautiful fantasy of the subconscious. Finally, you start to open your eyes, and you find Eddie looking intently at your face, trying to gauge your feelings. “There you are,” He murmurs, his hand coming to brush a stray tear from your cheek.  
“Here I am,” You breathe, a little bubble of laughter bursting from your throat. That makes Eddie feel better, much better. He laughs a little, too. 
“How you feelin’ angel?” You sigh deeply, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his forehead. 
“I feel fantastic.” You kiss Eddie’s forehead again and press your cheek into his hair. The laugh he gives now sounds a little less hesitant with the verbal confirmation of your wellbeing. 
“Good. I’m gonna get up in a minute to get you a towel, okay?” His hand slides down the length of your body, stopping to rest on your hip. You let your fingers card through his dark curls as he lightly kisses your collarbone.  
“You take such good care of me,” You compliment, that dreamy tone still lilting your voice. You feel him squeeze your hip just slightly, like he’s trying to hug you while laying on you. 
“Anything for my favorite girl,” You giggle. He said that last night, too. You both rest for a quiet moment then, just feeling the warmth of your bodies pressed together. Finally, after a few minutes of this, Eddie raises his head to look at you again. “You still want to go to the farmer’s market later?” You don’t know why you find this so funny, but you laugh a lot harder than you probably should.  
“I don’t think so,” You say. “I don’t think we’re going to want to go very far from this bed, today,” 
“Oh?” Eddie raises an eyebrow, amusement written all over his face. “And why is that?”  
“Because I think you’ve just created a monster,” You tell him matter-of-factly. “I don’t know how I lived so long without this.” Eddie laughs at your brazenness.  
“We’ll see about that, baby. Wait until you try to stand up. We’ll see how much you want it after trying to walk,”  
“Well, how about I just lay here then? Then I won’t have to worry about it!” Eddie reaches his face to meet yours, his warm lips moving over yours with increasing ease as you settle into each other like this. 
“What am I going to do with you?” He asks, breath fanning over your face. Your heart breaks out in a sprint at his tender touch. You breathe another, exaggerated sigh. 
“I don’t know. What are you going to do with me?” You grin playfully as he ponders this. 
“Everything, I hope,” He settles on, giving you your favorite smile.  
“Ooh, I can get on board with that!” With that, you pull his face toward yours, both of you laughing as you kiss each other breathless once again. 
@eddiernunson @names-were-taken @unverifiedmeatsuit
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msgexymunson · 1 year
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walking around the house in nothing but one of eddie's old t-shirts... knowing that the second he sees you, you're getting bent over the nearest surface.
Well! How could I say no to this?? 
Warnings: p in v unprotected sex (wrap it folks) implied established relationship, dom Eddie x sub fem reader 
A/N: this was a good ask, exactly what I like, short and dirty (just like me) Comments and reblogs are what keep the cogs and springs in my steampunk heart oiled ❤️
Masterlist
Humming along to the radio in the warm light of the trailer, you try to be helpful, mixing ingredients in a plastic bowl you'd found in a cupboard. Eddie had left to do a deal and his uncle was away all weekend, so you'd crawled out of bed and decided to whip up some pancakes. He'd mentioned them the night before and left you with a craving so you thought you'd surprise him. 
You pad around the kitchen barefoot, only wearing one of Eddie's old Hellfire T shirts, the one he hated since it was too big. It was perfect for you as a makeshift dress, just covering the curve of your butt. 
Reaching on tippy toes you examine the top cupboard trying to excavate a frying pan from its depths. Over the sound of the tinny radio and your own clattering you don't notice the opening of the trailer door, or the metallic sound of Eddie's keys falling to the ground in shock. 
You cannot help but notice a warm torso against your back and an unmistakable bulge pressing directly against your ass. Jumping with shock, a squeal escapes your lips.
"Jesus Eddie you scared me!" 
No words. Just a firm hand gripping you by the hip, the other snaking fingers across your jaw, and a strong body pushing you hard against the counter. Panic grips you for a moment. What if it isn't Eddie? 
That is until hot breath winds its way into your ear. 
"Baby, look at you. What are you doing?" 
You attempt to answer, whilst he grinds his hardness against the fat of your ass cheeks. 
"I-I was, I was making pancakes. I was gonna surprise you?" Your words are unsure; he almost sounds mad, belying the urgent gestures of his hips.
"I mean, what are you doing in my shirt? Jesus baby, you look smokin' hot." 
You attempt to move but Eddie's holding you still, hand now gripping the nape of your neck whilst the other smooths across your curves and under the hem of his old shirt. As his fingertips ghost across your heat you can't help but back into his feathering touch. 
"Fuck, you're not even wearing panties? Well, fuck." 
His hand moves away, making you frown, until you hear the unmissable clink of his handcuff belt. Eddie unzips his jeans and pushes them down just far enough to release his cock from its denim confines. 
You feel the weeping tip rut against your slickened folds making you jolt. 
"Eddie, please." It comes out needy, begging; exactly how he likes it. 
"Yeah? You want it? Is that why you're wearing my shirt and nothing else?" You hear the grin in his voice and the wet noise of him spitting into his hand to wrap it around his dick. 
When he starts pushing into you a gasp forces its way out of your lungs; air expelling in relief at him entering you. 
Eddie gives you no time to adjust. He simply ruts into you animalistically, one hand gripping your hip leaving indents in your skin, the other leaning on the countertop as leverage, allowing him to drive into you as hard as possible. 
"You drive me crazy, just walking around in my shirt, and, fuck, nothing else. You fuckin' menace." 
"Eddie!" You try to retort but there's no air to breathe, unable to snap back when he's fucking you this brutally. 
You feel a deep bubbling in your stomach, a powerful release clamping down on your insides, about to spill. Eddie's thrusts become sloppy and somehow even deeper as you scream your release out into the world, pussy gripping him as if it were afraid to let him go. Eddie cums inside you with a drawn out groan, body flopping over yours on the countertop. 
Pressing soft kisses to your temple, he pulls from your heat and stands. You're not so lucky, legs wobbling, nearly giving out from under you like a new-born fowl. 
"Woah there, sweetheart" Eddie says as he grasps you firmly by your waist. "You OK?" 
Steadying yourself, you turn to face him. 
"Hi." 
"Hi." He chuckles, peeling a strand of hair out of your face. "You wanna go and clean up and I'll make the pancakes?" 
"Sure" You grin, planting a kiss to his chapped lips.
"You wanna hand me that then sweetheart?" 
Confusion floods your face, until your eyes follow his, and realise your gripping onto the spatula you had in your hands when he came in. You hand it over, fingers releasing from their death grip. 
"That good eh?" Eddie smirks, full of himself. 
"Shut up Munson" You hit his arm, but there's no force in it, as you make your way to the bathroom. It was, after all, a hell of a way to wake up. 
I only had a tag list for Rumour, so if anyone wants to be on my general Eddie taglist please comment/reblog to say so!
@munson-blurbs @eddiesprincess86
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abiiors · 7 months
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everything is blue ✨ // matty healy x reader
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a/n: nnn. that's it, that't the plot. gotta thank @theungracefulgrace for the idea, i hope i did it justice <3 cw: smut, thigh riding and matty is a bit pathetic in this lmao, maybe even subby??? is this my subby matty debut??? wc: 1.9k (smaller than i thought actually...)
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“you two are disgusting,” george snickers from behind his drums as you make your way onto matty’s lap. 
it’s light-hearted and teasing—your friend taking the piss out of both of you but matty scoffs and you stick your tongue out.
“jealous,” you tease, “i’m going to wait until charli shows up and then we’ll talk.”
“yeah let’s talk then, mate,” matty quips from next to you and it only takes him another second to push his hands inside your t-shirt and place them on your bare stomach, almost caressing your ribs. 
it tickles and you squirm away, alerting george once more. 
“not going to start snogging in front of me, are you?” he turns around making an exaggerated vomiting gesture and scrunches his face at you. matty, almost predictably, takes that as a challenge. 
within moments, you feel his fingers lightly closing around your jaw, turning your face and capturing your lips in his. matty’s chest is pressed against your arm and his heartbeat echoes through your entire body, thrilling you to your very core when you feel the slight spike in it as your tongue grazes his bottom lip. his other arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer as matty deepens the kiss and hums in your mouth, sending vibrations through your entire body. in turn your heart skips a beat. you don’t break apart until you hear a loud cough in the vicinity. and george stares back at both of you, truly disgruntled now. 
“bleurgh,” he makes a face. “like i said, digusting.”
“and like she said,” matty snorts, “jealous.”
“simp!”
“idiot!”
“oh, very clever mate!”
“oh—”
“alright, that’s it!” you interrupt matty before he can retort any further and he glares at you in return. “you’re fighting like twelve year olds.”
matty smirks. “weren’t snogging me like—”
you clamp your hand over matty’s mouth before he can finish his vulgar sentence earning you two juvenile giggles—one slightly muffled by your hand. 
“you are like an animal,” george teases again, earning an expression of utter betrayal from matty. 
“how dare yo—”
“prove it then!” he challenges. his mouth curls into a smirk and your eyes narrow. you know this expression on george. you know he’s up to something. 
“we are in november,” he grins cheekily. “the month of chastity and all.”
“can it!” you warn but it’s too late. matty’s smirk already mirrors george’s. you can practically see the cogs turning in their heads and you know what’s about to happen. 
“a bet,” george shifts in his seat looking eager and devious. matty does the same, gently setting you off his lap and placing a quick apologetic kiss on your head when you protest. 
“a bet,” he repeats. 
and then with utter disgust, you watch the two men in front of you spit on their hands and shake on their deal.
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at first it’s fun—watching him turn red and squirm every time you get out the shower with just a towel wrapped around you. a few times, you even see him immediately sit on his hands or busy himself in his phone, making you giggle. the few times after that, he leaves the room entirely—practically running away like a virgin catholic school boy. 
the first few days are okay, fun even. you send him a selfies—towel just high enough for your nipples to be covered, barely covering your ass, showing its curve very well with the way you pose; on your bed, wearing his t-shirt and only his t-shirt, hand buried suggestively between your thighs—matty threatens to block you, accusing you of wanting to make him lose. 
he kisses you like usual, though. that’s the one thing he can’t stop doing. if anything, it feels like his mouth is attached to yours any chance he gets. it’s like he’s compensating, even letting you straddle him and deepen it until he has to pull away with a pained expression.
“how would george know?!” you whine and watch him pout. 
“trust me, he would,” matty sighs, shoulders slumping, “i would stop looking so fucking miserable for one.”
you fume quietly, realising you let yourself become collateral damage. he is so close that his cologne permeates your fucking lungs—earthy, sweet and matty. always surrounded by the smell of cigarettes and now his body wash that’s somehow become the most enticing scent in the world. 
“can’t lose one week in, baby.” his face pinches into one big sad expression and you frown at him. 
one whole week of being so close to him and cuddling at night in bed, one week of feeling his leg part your thighs in his sleep, of feeling his thigh graze against your clit and making you hiss. one week of having him right here but not having him at all. 
you shift on his lap, feeling the coarse material of his jeans against the insides of your thighs—not that you’re wearing much, just a big t-shirt and underwear, while he’s still in his jeans and t-shirt and not yet ready for bed—and an idea sparks. 
“so don’t lose,” you smirk, moving again, straddling him with a hand on his chest. “the bet was for you to not cum. i am nowhere mentioned in it.”
“what a-are you doing?” matty stutters. he actually fucking stutters, eyes wide and roaming all over your body, particularly focused on where you’re pressed up on his thigh and already on your way to discarding your underwear. 
“what does it look like i’m doing, baby?” you lift up slightly, quickly sliding your underwear off and deliberately stuffing it in the pocket of his jeans. 
he whines and the muscles of his thigh shift right under your bare cunt. 
as if on auto-pilot, his hands grip either sides of your waist, pressing you down onto him even though his face looks utterly devastated and hungry. 
“maybe i could do this with your pillow instead, hmm? cum all over it while thinking about you?” you taunt, gyrating your hips and grinding all over his thigh, already soaking his jeans with how turned on you are. it has the precise effect you’re hoping for.
“no–fuck,” he whines, “stay here. use me, please, but stay here.”
“use you, yeah?” your mouth ghosts over his, hand trailing up his chest and tracing the contours of his throat with your nails, tracing all the delicate veins and the flutter of his rapid pulse. matty’s breath quickens and comes out in sharp pants. it’s almost like he can’t handle it, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself anymore.
“touch me, touch me please!” he begs, eager and desperate when you quirk an eyebrow at him.
“touch you how?”
instead of answering, matty takes your hand off his throat and presses in on the bulge in his jeans, sighing at the pressure. he’s practically twitching under your hand, squirming even before you’ve properly even touched him. 
“can’t lose now, my darling, can you?” you marvel at the way your voice sounds, sultry and dominating with just a hint of condescensation. it’s power like you’ve never felt before. it makes the blood in your veins heat up even more, makes it flow faster. 
so you dig the heel of your palm onto his crotch, drag it up and then down and feel him twitch. feel him grow impossibly hard. matty's body shudders on the sofa like he's not even in there—just a puppet lying there pliant for your pleasure.
“but—”
you bend down to kiss him and feel all his complaints die on his lips. matty whimpers, moving his hips against your hand, thrusting forward almost, but you put an end to it almost immediately and laugh when he whines into the kiss. 
“i want to cum, fuck, need to so so bad!” his curls droop over his eyes. eyes that stare at you with such blatant lust that it throws you off kilter, almost makes your hips stutter but the pressure feels so good! the friction is enough to reduce every single thought in your brain down to a lumpy mush. 
“yeah?” you whisper in a tightly controlled breathy voice, “but you look so pretty when you beg sweet boy.”
he swallows roughly, transfixed on you and looking utterly fucked and unable to do anything other than keep his hands on your hips and help you ride his thigh, let you get off on him while he watches helplessly and writhes under your touch. 
“baby…” he whimpers again when you move your free hand through his curls, tugging at some of the strands and pushing them out of his eyes. 
your thighs burn with the strain, a delicious fucking ache that starts from deep within you and slowly spreads to the very tips of your fingers and the wet, sticky spot on matty’s jeans grows larger, right as your moans grow louder. 
“fuck, matty…” you bend down, mouth right next to his ear, right on his sweat soaked skin, “so fucking good for me, my pretty boy. make–shit! making me feel so good.”
your movements gain speed and you throw your head back, ignoring him entirely and chasing your own pleasure. no doubt he’s rather occupied with your tits bouncing in his face, seeing as how his hand trails up to trace them, to pinch your hard nipples between his fingers. 
“shit!” you cry out, “gonna cum baby. make me cum okay? good boy…”
matty’s back arches off the sofa—eager to obey, so so eager to please—pushing your t-shirt up and flicking his tongue over your nipples, nipping them with his teeth. matty alternated between tongue and teeth, licking and sucking the sensitive skin until there are bruised on your breasts, until you can barely distinguish one thought from another. until finally, you tip over the edge. 
there’s a moment where all you recall is crying out his name, breathing harsh and uneven, and then a moment stretched on to infinity that’s just pure fucking bliss. undiluted ecstasy. and then your hips finally stutter to a stop, just as you open your eyes hazily. 
the sight in front of you almost brings you to your knees again. matty’s jaw hangs open, mouth wet and red and raw and bitten—the absolute portrait of being fucked, and yet he hasn’t even been touched yet. hasn’t shed a single item of clothing. tears of frustration gather in his eyes while his hair falls all over his forehead. he can’t even make a single sound. not even a peep. 
this must have been torture for him and you know it. a sadistic side of you even relishes in it. “did you have fun?” you tease. “i certainly did…”
when you kiss matty again, you can physically feel the jolt in his body, as if his heart restarts, thumping in his chest wildly while he’s still speechless and focused entirely on you. 
matty makes a broken sound in his throat—somewhere between a “yes” and a “please” and maybe even your name. but you don’t let him finish. 
instead, you swipe your fingers through your soaked folds just as the trembling in your body subsides, collecting your slick and bringing it up to his lips that are still parted in shock. 
“a little thank you,” you place the fingers on his tongue, laughing when he swirls his tongue around them. “for being such a good boy.” 
“a good boy…” he repeats, voice hoarse and barely even audible. and you know the fun is just getting started…
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lemme know what you think <33
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voxmortuus · 10 months
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✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Yandere!Count Vronsky x F!Reader!Wife ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Anna Karenina ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 3.6k ✧*̥˚ PROMPT: *̥˚✧ This was given to me by the lovely @bettytaylorversion || Okay, okay I'm lately obsessed with yandere Count Vronsky, so how about yan Vronsky suspecting that his wife is seeing someone or like in love with someone and it doesn't help when his mother keeps feeding his suspicions so he ends up locking the wife/reader up in their house in countryside/ another country house where no one can reach them and where he makes sure his beloved wife knows exactly how much he loves her. ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ Dead Dove Do Not Eat | Yandere Count | Possessive Count | Aggressive Count | Stalker Count | Demanding Count | Accusations of Cheating | Toxic Mother | False ideas | False Suspicions from mother | Toxic Marriage? | Isolation of Reader | Slapping | Pushing or Shoving | Yelling | Slamming doors | Gripping readers throat | Passionate making out | Throwing reader on bed | Stripping reader | Unprotected PiV | Aggressive sex | Reader fights a bit but stops fighting | Dub-Con? | insinuated Cream Pie | Crying Reader | Fluff | Reader questions if she loves him at the end | Relationship conflictions | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I've been wanting to write for him for a long while! Thank you love for this request! I hope this is along the lines of what you were hoping for... Sorry if it doesn't hit exactly what you're looking for but I tried!!! Anywho.... I hope this brings you some joy. ✧*̥˚ DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ TIME PASSER DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @voxmortuus ✧*̥˚ IMAGE CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @peachyspaceslvt ✧*̥˚ ATJ TAGLIST: *̥˚✧ @earth-elemental18 @nyxvuxoa-writes ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist *̥˚✧
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It was this gnawing feeling, this feeling of dread, sorrow, a pain in his gut he couldn't shake. Watching you go as he leaned against the window frame, he knew where you were going. He knew, he just had this gut feeling that he couldn't quite shake. It ate at his heart, it ate at his brain, it was like these cogs and wheels working, but not in a way of rationality. His thoughts were completely irrational. Looking out that window as your carriage vanished into the thick fog of the dawn, he felt so lost, so angry. He wasn't happy, and not happy may be quite an understatement.
Placing a hand-rolled cigarette between his lips he grabbed a match from the fireplace and lit it. The smoke bellowed above, tossing the match into the fire he turned to see his mother sitting at the table.
"She does not have love for you anymore, Alexei." She stated. Her tone appeared caring, honest, maybe even having pity, but it was just because she didn't like you.
"She must love me. That is my wife, she must." He stated he didn't seem demanding about it, he seemed sad, heartbroken even.
"But she does not. She will never love you as she loves him. What married woman is happy with her husband? She has grown bored of you. Had she not she would not go to him as she does." She points out.
His heart, if it was a glass a cat had pushed off the counter it would have shattered. He only hoped that you were as enraptured by him as he was about you. He looked up at the wall, the painting of you seemed to be watching. He closed his stormy blue eyes and looked back at his mother.
"She does love me. I know it to be true. You speak lies, like a snake in the garden." He snapped and walked to the table and had taken a sip from the slightly sweetened tea he had poured only moments before your leaving. Sitting there he tapped his smoke against a small crystal ashtray and his mind became overrun, thinking of everything his mother had stated. Thinking of those possibilities. What were you doing? Were you spreading your legs for him? Was he satisfying you? Were you unhappy with him? Did you not love him? Did you grow bored of him? He rubbed his lip a moment as he took another drag before looking at his mother.
"When she comes home, I will settle this." He stated. Taking the cup and his almost-gone smoke and had vanished to the bedroom. He sits on the edge of the bed after putting the cup on the bedside table and looks over your side of the bed. It was too much, these feelings he had, it was like they were just bubbling up, ready to overflow and put out the fire that kept the pot lit. Feeling the stinging in his nose from the slight anger he ran his hand through his curly blonde locks and his jaw clenched as he put his smoke out in the ashtray and grabbed his clothes for getting dressed before he slammed the bedroom door.
His mother had heard the slam and had made her way to the room. Letting herself in she looked over him and sighed. "I just want what is best for you."
"I said I would take care of it. I do not need your help. She is my wife, not yours." He sort of snapped.
"You are right, she is your wife. And your wife is off with another man, spreading her legs and enjoying her time away from you. So how are you going to handle that Alexei?" She asked.
"I will take her away from here. I will take her far away from everyone. Including you." He snapped. "Now if you do not mind, I am getting dressed. Go find something else to bother." He snarled slightly as he escorted her out of the doorway and closed and locked the bedroom door.
Looking out the bedroom window and looking over the garden, he watched the flowers bob from the heaviness of the heads that were filled with the morning dew. It was something so simple, and yet even looking at their beauty, he saw you, he saw your smile, your smooth skin, your curves, he saw how your hair fell, that glow in your eyes when you were happy. You had to love him, why was he questioning it? Why was he standing there, looking out on those flowers questioning if you loved him?! With a clenched jaw and a knitted brow, he threw open the closet door and grabbed his attire for the day.
After fastening the last button on his coat, he makes his way back to the kitchen- it's like he doesn't want to acknowledge the other parts of the home without you here. Feeling lost, and one track minded. He didn't like that you were gone, it loomed over him like a dark cloud heavy with rain looms over the dirt countryside roads. He needed to know where you were going. He needed to know what you were doing. He needed to know what you were saying. Were you tired of him? Were you unhappy? It just gnawed at him like a beaver gnawing on a log.
Why was this even a feather of a thought? It's not that he didn't want you to have friends, it's just, why did they have to be male friends? And even then, it wasn't the idea of male friends that bothered him, it was the embedded, plated thoughts from the snake in the garden that made him believe that you were unhappy, that you were not in love with him any longer, that you were looking for a way out of this relationship. Well, that was going to be nipped in the bud right away. There was going to be no second-guessing it, not after this.
He decided to gather himself a little more and decided to head out to find you. He had these questions that needed answers. He turned to look at his mother who was still there. "Watch the house while I am away. We will be gone for a while." He states. His mother went to speak but before she could retort with a comment he was out the door and off to the stables.
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After a few hours of looking and getting a general idea of where you were he stopped, getting off the carriage he approached, standing a good distance behind as you stood there, talking to another man. Oh, this did not sit well with him, but he watched and observed. With a lick of his lips and a look of heartache, as you touched the other man's face, he couldn't help but feel that slithering snake of a mother of his was right.
The more he watched, the more you laughed, the closer this man seemed to be getting to you, and the more it climbed up him like ivy claiming lattice fencing. This green envious monster coils around his every nerve, his nostrils flair as he walks toward you and clears his throat, but you don't pay much attention until he grabs your arm and pulls you to him.
You gasp and look over his face. "My Love, what are you doing here?" You ask him.
"I could ask you the very same." He states. His stare was cold, his stare pained, and his stare… it bore into you like a hot glue gun into plastic.
"I am just out with a friend, we do this every week. It means nothing." You state honestly.
"Does it? Does it really mean nothing? You were touching his face, and laughing with him like you do with me. Do I not make you happy anymore? Have you grown bored and weary of me?" He asks you with a small shake in his voice almost as if holding back tears.
"Of course you make me happy, why would you ask such a thing?" you respond back looking into his stormy blue hues.
His jaw clenches and he looks at your friend and back to you. "We are leaving." He states as if dismissing you from your date with your male friend.
"What? No. Alexei, no." you stated.
"I do not know him, nor do I like how you were touching him, we are going somewhere. You'll like it. Get in." he states and gestures to the carriage.
"Alexei, no." You state firmly.
He clenches his jaw and looks over you. "Do not make me put you in there myself. Now. Be a good wife, and get in the carriage." He snarls lowly.
Licking your lips you look over his face and let out a slight breath before getting into the carriage. Feeling the shake of the carriage from the door closing. Placing your hands in your lap you look down, studying them a moment before you close your eyes almost in defeat, and wonder where he is taking you. It was clear he wasn't taking you home. Why was he suddenly acting this way? What was it that made him feel like you were unhappy? You began to study yourself, you even began to question yourself. But why? His actions alone.
His actions just then made you question if this was really where you needed to be. But the more you thought about it, the more you realized that maybe he was seeing something you were not seeing. Were you really happier with your friend than you were with him? Was he not seeing how much you loved him? Were you really doing something bad? You turn back and look at him as he stops the carriage and climbs into the back of it with you as someone else takes over. Someone he had paid to drop you both off and take the carriage back to the house.
You sit there, in silence, and you study him, you study his face, his eyes, how his jaw twitches, how his brow knits, how his eyes seem to be full of sorrow, and maybe is that hate? You look down, and you think about all you've done, but you can't help but shake your head. You love this man, and he was blind to false things. Was there a way to fix it? Was there a way to get him to see that you love him just as much as he loves you?
"Where are we going? There is nothing for miles." You point out looking out the little window of the carriage door.
"We're going someplace secluded." He states.
"Secluded? Whatever for?" You ask with a slight bit of worry in your tone.
"Enough with the questions, you will see when we get there." He states, short in his tone.
You lick your lips and hike a brow before looking back down at your lap and letting out a slight sigh. You feel this could get problematic.
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By the time you get to where you were going, the sun had already set and come back up. You look over his face as he offers to help you off the carriage. Your jaw clenches and you shake your head.
"Are you serious? Why are we here? We are days away from home at this rate Alexie." You point out.
HE shakes his head and looks at you and looks over the country home before looking back at you. "You will survive. This is for a reason."
"THIS IS ABSURD!" You scream. The only thing you cause to stir is birds out in the field. Your jaw clenches and you look over him shoving past him and heading toward the inside.
He sighs slightly and shakes his head, he isn't expecting you to understand. Rubbing his brow a moment he looks up at the gray skies and then over on the vast rolling fields of nothing. A small smile creeps across his face as he listens to the front door being slammed. Another soft sigh escapes his lips as he heads toward the house.
Upon walking in he looks around and spots you standing there in the living room. As he walks toward you to join you, you turn and look at him.
"What is all of this about?" You ask.
"You need to see how much love I have for you. I cannot do that back there." He stated honestly.
"So you isolate me?!" You raise your tone.
"Yes! It keeps you away from another man touching you!" He snaps.
"NO ONE ELSE IS TOUCHING ME!" You snap back.
"HOW DO I KNOW?!" He steps closer to you.
"No. You don't get to ask me that question! How do you not see that I love you!? I have always loved you!" You snarl as you step forward challenging him.
"Well, I suppose now you can show me just how much you love me as I show you how much I love you." He stated coldly.
"Don't be so pigeon-livered." You growl to yourself. "You're being a floozer Alexei. What has ever gotten into you?" You ask him.
"Are you really going to throw insults at me? Pigeon-livered? Floozer? Do not." He grips your arm and pulls you close. "Do not cross me."
You shove him and look over his face. "Or what?" You ask with a tightly knitted brow. "What are you going to do?"
Stretching his neck from left to right he licks his lips and his jaw clenched.
"WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?!" You snapped.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?!" He snapped back. He began to pace. "All I ever do is shower you with love and attention, I do nothing but prove to you how much you mean to me. I make sure you always put your best forward. And you do this. Run off with another man doing god knows what." He states.
Crossing your arms over your chest you stare at him a moment and blink a few times. "Are you blinded by your own selfishness right now? Can you not see past your own nose? I am not laying with another man Alexei! I have never laid with another man!" you snap.
"HOW DO I KNOW THAT?!" He snaps. "How do I know that?" He asked you. A complete and utter look of defeat sprawled across his features.
Walking to him you slap him across the face. Not once, but twice. Reaching forward he grips your throat and moves you through the house. Kicking open a door he shoves you into the bedroom and starts to unbutton his jacket. Looking over you his eyes hungry. His snarl was fierce, his jaw clenched so hard you could hear the bones grinding and you could feel the flex of his jaw. You try to shove past him but that wasn't happening.
"What are you going to do rape me Alexei?" You ask.
He scoffed and looked over at you. "Do you think that little of me? Strip." He demands.
"No." You cross your arms. At this point, you were fighting him to fight, how far could you push?
"I said strip!" He demands again. Walking to you he spins you around and starts to untie your skirt.
Layer by layer you fight, until you are both stripped down to mere thin layers. Tears staining your face, you look over him and shake your head, a small thumping sound of your heart feeling like it was echoing in the room.
"All I have ever wanted was for you to love me. You have to love me, you must love me." He states. He steps closer to you, looking over you he grips your face and pulls you near. "You will love me. You will." He states firmly.
Scared at this point you cannot find your words. He presses his lips to yours and at first, you give in, you cave, you wrap your arms around him and kiss him deeply, lovingly, longing for that affection he wanted to give you, but then you start to push away, saddened by the fact that he couldn't believe you, that he had no trust in you.
"No…" You start to push away, but you didn't want him to at the same time, it was this conflicting feeling.
"Do not tell me no, you want this…" he points out as he listens to your breathing.
You have no means of responding.
"I'm not taking that as a no." he states.
You give him a cold stare, looking over his face, his lips press against yours and you shove him back, and he throws you to the bed. You bounce once before he climbs on top of you and looks you over. He tilts his head and looks over your face and takes your wrists and places them above your head and looks over your face intently.
You attempt to wiggle free but he hovers over you, his body pressed against yours. In one hand he has your hands gripped together, in the other hand hikes up your skirt, he looks over you, and he leans in and nips at your lips. Your breathing becomes heavier, and you close your eyes. Shaking your head you begin to breathe heavier. It felt good, his hands on you, it always felt good, but there was this sense of fight that also washed over you.
As his lips found your neck he kissed up your neck to your jaw, finding your lips. While you loved his affection, you were terrified. Literally scared of him.
"Get off of me." you demand.
"Let me show you. See how much I love you." He takes your hand and places it on his hard cock. "This is how much I love you." He states.
You pull your hand away and turn your head in another direction. His senses overwhelm him, and unable to control himself he groans softly as he presses himself against you. You turn your head away from him, maybe checking out, but at the same time ever so present in this moment. As he thrusts himself into you you take in a deep breath. A whimper leaves your lips as a groan leaves his.
Looking over you he observes your features as he turns your face to look at him, leaning in he kisses you again. And it was then you cave, just a little. Your lips pressed against his, your hand moved up his arms to his hair and you pull him closer. Your hips roll against his thrusts and you begin to whimper against his lips. The feeling of him against you was something you always loved. Truthfully you never questioned this man's love for you. But you were conflicted because of how he was coming at you. You didn't know if you should fight him, or cave to him a little more.
The more he thrusts the harder he becomes in his motions, the more you fight. But the more you fight, the more he growls, it was a conflicting feeling all over again and you aren't sure what to do, it was overwhelming. You push him away, shoving him but he pulls you closer.
Feeling your body flush against his you let out another soft whimper. You move your hands to his shoulders as you feel him thrust deeper into you, your moans escaping you were almost pained but yet pleasure-filled. Your hips rolled against his as he continued to thrust with a fever. He pulls you even closer to him, pulling you into his lap as he guides you along his stiffened cock, nuzzling into you, nipping and biting at you.
The moans fill the bedroom, bouncing off the windows and the walls, and while you might be fighting him because of his choice of actions, this man was your life. You kiss him deeply as you both moan in pure pleasure. Your bodies collide in such a raw motion. Thrust after thrust, grunt, and groan after grunt and groan, screams of pure euphoria leaving you both. It all came to a halt with a trembling body-shaking finish, feeling as his cock twitched inside of you as hot ribbons of seed coat your velvet walls. He snarled against your skin, and you bring a hand across his face, and you begin to cry.
Holding you close, he looks down at you, smoothing your hair he presses his face against you.
"Shh… now now, everything is alright. I love you, so much." He whispers. "You have to love me back, you just have to." he says softly.
"I… I do love you, Alexei. I do. I wish you would see that." you say between sniffles.
He holds you close, nuzzling against you. "Shall we draw you a bath?" He asks.
Nodding your head he looks over your face and nods. "I shall draw you a bath. Think about what I said." He states.
"Are you isolating me? From everyone?" you ask as he gets up and slips his pants back on.
With a firm stare, he looks over you. "I am, and it's for our own good. You won't be seeing him, we will stay here as long as it takes." He states truthfully.
And like that, your heart becomes conflicted, you love this man, but you feel scared of this man… but then you look at him, and you don't feel afraid anymore. You just want him to see that you do love him. It's conflicting, and it's terrifying, you love him, but is it true? Staying here, you're only choice is to grow to love him. But that's been his goal all along, for you to love him, and for him to show you in so many ways how he loves you.
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cuffmeinblack · 1 year
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ooooo can we anticipate seeing this Ominis parselmouth smut?
Snake whispers
Ominis Gaunt x f!reader
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Tags: smut | voice kink | fingering
500 words
A/n: Absolute historically innaccurate SMUT. The audio.
You'd always found Ominis' voice incredibly sexy—the way he was so well spoken, it was also soft and almost musical but capable of delivering words that could cut deep. You hadn't needed to tell him, he already knew. He'd whispered something in your ear, something completely innocuous, but it sent shivers down your spine as his warm breath brushed your neck.
Ominis was certainly perceptive when it came to what turned you on, his fingers and mouth knowing where to go to leave you gasping and begging, and his words were no exception. He could whisper a sentence to you in the most public place and have your heart racing in a second, leaving you flustered and aching. There was one thing you'd always wanted him to say to you, though, but it was something you'd need to ask for.
You'd pulled him into a quiet corner of the library one day to make your request. Leading him by his hand, you stopped next to a tower of seldom-perused books on the upper level and pulled his tie to draw him into a deep kiss. He reciprocated eagerly, drawing his hands around your waist and flicking his tongue against your lips.
"Ominis?" you whispered between kisses and touches.
"Mmm?" 
"Will you say something to me?"
Ominis smirked as he pulled the bottom of your shirt out of your waistband and dipped his head.
"What would you like me to say?" He purred against your neck.
You shuddered, lacing your fingers in his fine, soft hair as he planted kisses along your jaw.
"I want you to speak to me in parseltongue."
Ominis stopped what he was doing and withdrew, his lips open in what appeared to be stunned silence. 
"You…want me to speak snake to you?"
"Yes. Just once?"
You watched him as the cogs turned in his head, his brow slightly furrowed. His hand was still skimming the skin just below the waistband of your skirt, making your breathing shallow as you gazed into his eyes. You'd always thought his eyes beautiful, the milky blue reminding you of a turbulent sea. 
"Alright," he said, returning his mouth to the side of your neck as his hand moved quickly to lift the heavy fabric of your skirt and disappeared underneath. 
You let out a moan as he slipped in the side of your underwear, his fingers finding the sensitive spot between your legs, making you arch your back and press into his hand as he worked his fingers in tiny circles.
"Say it, please," you breathe.
The sound that escaped his lips was a high hiss, breathy and soft and it seemed to linger in the air around you. It made your skin tingle with pleasure and you let out a small whimper to convey your approval.
"What did you say?" you asked, gasping as Ominis continued to work his fingers rhythmically.
Ominis dragged his lips up the side of your neck and whispered into your ear.
"Come for me."
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Text
Tourist Destinations Of The Outer Planes
Mechanus: How dare you suggest there would be anything novel or unique in Mechanus?! To cog jail with you!
Arcadia: Like those normal towns with "world best fish and chips" except they're scrupulously fact checked. "Home of Arcadia's 3826th best B&B according to multiple double-blind studies (citations available on request)"
Mount Celestia: Pure and ineffable spiritual bliss in the face of the divine and, after that, a pretty decent pizza shop where you can get a t-shirt with your face when you learnt the true name of God.
Bytopia: Bytopia is the embodiment of the concept of "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" and also the domain of the gnome deities, so if you've ever wanted to see the Great Wheel's only 24/7 prank youtuber live show where all the pranks revolve around how millennials need to spend less on avocado toast, you're in luck! If not, may I recommend the abyssal layer where snakes drink your eyes as a pleasant reprieve?
Elysium: Just a rabbit sat on a rock but because you're in Elysuim it's the best thing you've ever seen. You autodelete all memories of your wedding and children's birth and suchlike for being shit in comparison.
The Beastlands: Who's the best dog in the world? Who is it? This isn't a rhetorical question, there's an objective answer. You can see him for the low price of four acorns and a fancy rock.
Arborea: Don't be fooled by the signs! The natives of Arborea spend their time playing and dancing so they have things like open plan offices and tax return help-desks as vacation spots. Instead ask where the boring parts of Arborea are to be given directions to the firework waterslide music concert video game dance party.
Ysgard: Monuments to epic deeds literally everywhere. So many monuments they start sounding sarcastic. If you successfully get to your hotel room they erect a 15ft statue commemorating it.
Limbo: "Look, you had to be there. Literally, what I saw existed beyond the capacity of human words to describe and I weep tadpoles when I try to recall it in any detail"
Pandemonium: Great acoustic guitar scene. Well, we assume they're good. If nothing else, you have to admire their perseverance.
The Abyss: Go on Demogorgan's tour of all infinity layers! The most fucked up shit you've ever seen or your spinal column back guaranteed!
Carceri: Be in the audience at History's Greatest Monster, where the most evil people in history compete for the crown! If you're lucky, you might get an autograph before they're hurled back into their eternal prisons once more!
Hades: Fuck you.
Gehenna: Tourist traps, in the sense of big holes you fall in and have to give a deamon all your money before it will let you out.
The Nine Hells: The Nine Hells are a wonderful place to visit, with a wide varieties of eateries, vistas and attractions that you should visit before you die! I am not writing this under duress and you should not send help to
Acheron: One extremely dangerous theme park. It's cheap and there are few queues but be aware that sometimes the god of orcs will show up and use whatever ride you're on as a bludgeoning weapon. Overall nice atmosphere, 4 stars.
The Outlands: Alas, I'm pretty sure there's absolutely nowhere worth visiting in the outlands. Sorry guys.
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itsss4t4n · 5 months
Text
Mi Vida - Leo Valdez x fem!reader
Request? Yes @nothankyou543
"Can you do Connor Stoll or Leo Valdez x fem reader just cuddling in the morning after they wake up "
warnings: none, one kiss, no use of Y/n, spanish swear words, bad spanish
a/n: Firstly sorry this took a few days, i had a lot of school stuff this week and i also forgot how hard writing actually is. The spanish in this fic is mostly google translated so i apologize if something is wrong. And again english isnt my first lanuage.
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"Mierda!" 
You groan slightly and try to push further into the mattress. The quiet clanging and clinking of metal apruptly stops for a few seconds.
When you dont make another sound or move ,the noise starts up again.
Without moving, you slightly open your eyes to peer over at Leos desk. There he sits, still in his spiderman pyjamas, probably working on a new invention. His desk is full of small metal pieces. Bronze cogs, rods and plates are strewn all over and its impossible to make out what he is currently working on. 
Your eyes shift to the bronze alarm clock, that Leo built 2 weeks ago, and you groan once again.
7.38 AM.
Leo stops his clanging once again and looks over at you. 
"Good morning mi amor" His face stretches into a big smile. A smile thats not quite his almost cocky signature 'Leo smile'. Its a lot softer and filled with love. And most importantly, its exclusively reserved for you.
"Sorry, didnt mean to wake you up." his smile turns slightly more apologetic.
He gets up while wiping his hands on the already dirty rag that hangs of the back of his chair. 
"Its fine", you grumble while turning over onto your back, "Why are you up this early?"
Smiling sheepishly Leo climbs back into bed, clumsily hitting his shin on the bedframe while doing so. A small yelp leaves his lips, making you huff out a small laugh. "Shut up" he softly shoves your head back into the pillow making you laugh more.
Leo finally gets situated as you calm down your laughing, his head proped up on his hand while his other arm sits around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
"Just couldnt sleep anymore and was bored", he softly answers your question. You hum in reply, enjoying having him close to you once again. "Again sorry for waking you up, hermosa", he mumbles into your hair, pressing a kiss to your hairline. 
Pressing into his touch, you once again hum. "No really, you're fine." Pullin your head away slightly you look up at him and ask "So what were you working on?"
Leo's Face lights up immediately at you showing interest in his inventions, and launches into a detailed explaination of the machine he was currently working on. 
While talking Leo gesticulates wildly with the hand that was previously on your waist, the hand that previously propped his head up snaking under your head and to your back, pulling you into him again.
This was something you loved about leo: his constant need for physical touch. No matter what, he would always be touching you, whether it was holding your hand, having his hand around your waist or your shoulders , laying his hand on your knee when you where sitting next to each other or even just sitting or standing as close to you as humanly possible.
You cuddle into him again, tilting your head up to look at him, a fond smile spreading over your face. 
Leo looks down at you and stops in his ramble about something not working as it should and looks at you questioningly .
"What?"
"Nothin, just admirin you, Guapo.", you aswer, makin Leo smile at the little spanish nickname. He's always loved when you used the little spanish that you knew, especially if it were terms of endearment like this.
" You're one to talk, hermosa" , he grinnes before tilting his head down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
You kiss back and slightly smile into it. 
Its not a long, heated kiss. Its small, soft and full of love. 
When you part again, he places a small peck on the tip of you nose before cuddling back into you and pressing his face in your hair again.
"Te amo, mi vida"
"I love you too, cariño "
(translations: mierda= shit, mi amor= my love, hermosa= beautiful, guapo= handsome, cariño= darling/sweety/honey/dear, Te amo= I love you, mi vida= my life )
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nekokoaa · 10 months
Text
The Agreement - Miguel O'Hara x Therapist!Reader (III)
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Summary: It was simple. No kissing. No sex. Hugs and hand-holding only. The goal was to help Miguel feel a little less lonely sometimes. That was your job as one of the therapists at HQ, to mentally stabilize everyone’s mind, including the boss’s.
In other words, you and Miguel make a deal.
Rated Explicit, fluff, smut
4K words | (3/5) chapters
Chapters:
(I) (II) (III) (IV) (V)
Author's notes: I work as a freelance copywriter so I had to prioritize my projects but I still managed to get this done! Enjoy! :) Let me know if you want to be a part of the tag list.
Also on AO3
III.
Sometimes you wish you were mindless—just a rusty cog of a machine in a 9 to 5 corporate job. Simply, a taciturn sheep led by a shepherd, waiting for the day a butcher’s knife is pressed against its neck. It was easier to handle life in such a way. Regrets can never be born when allied with carelessness.
But it was something beyond you. Clearly. The throes of passion had tempted you that night. His hand on your hip firmly held you in place, fingers pressed into your suit. Covetous crimson eyes searched between your eyes and lips long enough that the sweat of your skin gathered at your clavicles. But you managed to resist his heat, disappointing, yes, but at least you still had your dignity—your morals. If it wasn’t for that, you might’ve been in his bed that night, rocking your hips against his without a single care in the world.
Three weeks had passed by and you haven’t had a session with him since that night. You were canceling them in hopes that the fire between you fizzles. With distance, desire usually fades so you only hoped that night was just your hormones acting up and there wasn’t a deeper meaning to how you felt.
Between that time, you had the opportunity to meet Gwen Stacy from 65. She was a nice girl, cool, and very much like all of you. Burdened with the sense of justice with a side of wittiness.
She was popular, especially among the Peters who had lost their Gwens. They looked at her like she was a what-if moment and were impressed by her, but you knew you’ll be seeing them on your office couch soon enough.
Hobie was practically best friends with her now. The late night sessions with Hobie were a rare occurrence these days. Like a stray, he found a new person to feed his interests.
Jess favored her the most. Reminded her of her younger days, and how impressive she was at that age—still is, as she’s been carrying a baby in her stomach while doing her missions flawlessly.
Miguel was indifferent. At least that’s how he acted. But as long as work was getting done, you were leveling up the relationship bar with him.
Out of everyone, Peter B was home to her. To see a familiar face amongst like-minded strangers had helped her settle in faster than you expected. Seeing them together made them look like family.
Because of the great reputation she had around the society, today you allowed Gwen to pull you away from the safety of your office straight to Miguel’s for what she called emotional support. There was something she wanted to ask him—a request. And she had the idea that your presence would soften him up somehow.
“Why do you think that?” When you asked, Gwen looked back at you with a knowing smile. Her hand still latched onto your wrist like a snake squeezing its prey. She guided you through the cavernous hall of tech that led to Miguel’s office, the pathway seemed to grow darker the closer you got.
“I see how you two look at each other during meetings.” She said effortlessly like it was a fact. You let out a cough like you choked on air, already shaking your head to her conclusion.
“You know he’s always leading them—what? Do you expect me to look at the ceiling or something?” Gwen laughed at this, but it didn’t look like she was convinced.
Walking in, you had expected Miguel’s office to be darker than the hall leading towards it, but it was instead imbued with a ruddy tint, and streaks of sliver threads surrounded the area Miguel was standing in. He was in the middle of briefing a few Spider-Men for a mission on Gaia-3000. Miguel always made sure to remind his agents of the canon events before going on a mission to prevent the loss of the universe. It was more important than the mission itself.
The briefing didn’t last long as Miguel noticed you enter with Gwen. His gaze could’ve riveted you to the floor, the look on his face was neither soft nor austere—perhaps aloof would best describe how he looked at you. Yet you wanted to believe there was something behind those eyes of his because not once did they leave you since you entered. 
It was until the Spider-Men walked into their portals that Miguel’s attention moved to the floating projections. The silver webs of fate orbited around him as if he were a sun. He would’ve looked occupied if it weren’t for his eyes moving between you and the projections.
“Doc.” He greeted you once you were in front of him, looking down at you through the hologram of a canon event that floated in between you two. There was a moment—just a moment where his eyes looked soft… but it could’ve been the trick of the hologram.
“Miguel.” You had to suck your lips in to stop yourself from smiling. You hated to admit it, but you were happy to speak to him after so long. Staying away from him was a selfish decision, one that you regretted now that you stood in front of him. 
Your heart thumped in bliss, the warmth from that night revisiting you like an old friend. How inane of you to think that distance would’ve settled this emotion. It was already being stitched onto your soul from the moment this agreement started—the very needle sunken in when his hand stretched out of that portal into your apartment many months ago. You couldn’t pretend anymore.
You fell for him. Regardless of whether he felt the same or not.
“Uh, I’m here too…” Gwen had a slight smile on her face, bending forward with a small wave to Miguel.
“Gwen,” you could tell Miguel forced a smile, fangs appearing while none of the light reached his eyes. It lasted a moment before it dropped to his usual scowl. Miguel then turned around to face his floating platform that started its slow descent to the ground. “I’m sure you already had a tour of the place unless you’re just here to say hello.”
“I wanted to talk to you about something!”
“If a universe isn’t collapsing, or an anomaly hasn’t appeared, then Jess can handle it.”
“But it’s important! I just figure it would make our jobs easier. You know, making sure the universes are in order?”
The rumble of the descending platform had filled in for Miguel’s silence. He peeked behind his shoulder, his eyes looking past Gwen’s and into yours before they lowered to the ground. He then folded his arms against his chest, sighing. “I’m listening.”
Gwen immediately beamed, light filling her eyes. “Okay!” You could tell her entire energy ignited. Her arms flailed with every word that left her lips. She was animated—excited, glowing like a sun rising from the horizon, its rays brighter as the seconds go by. If anyone were to watch her, they too would feel elated by her presence alone. 
But as the sun rises in one part of the world, it sets in the other. Her idea was nothing but grave to you, the dread in your face impossible to hide as she spoke with an open mind—naivety in her words. You couldn’t blame her because it’s possible no one told her yet, not Jess and surprisingly not Peter B. If she had told you of her idea prior, you wouldn’t have come here to support her. Just the thought of her idea could be considered mutiny to the entire cause… to Miguel.
You cast your eyes down, afraid to even lift them towards Miguel. You didn’t have to. You could already feel it brewing, simmering like water on a stovetop. A part of you internally begged for Gwen to shut up, or wished the sound of the descending platform was loud enough to overtake her voice. Miguel wasn’t facing either of you but you could still feel a weight on top of your shoulders, drilling you into the floors, your limbs heavier than sacks of sand.
Gwen went on and on until she was rambling, probably because she was excited or nervous. You couldn’t exactly tell. It was until the platform finally reached the ground that Gwen ended her request with a “pretty please” and a large smile on her face.
That smile didn’t last long.
“No,” Miguel spoke softly.
“Wha…” she faltered, physically her shoulders dropped. “What? Wait—why? I mean—he would be such a great asset to our group and—Probably one of the best Spider-mans I’ve met. The things he can do— He’s amazing , Miguel.”
“I said, no.” And it was final. Gwen knew that but she still pushed, making her argument, excuses, anything. Miguel silenced her with a heavy sigh, fingers moving to pinch the bridge of his nose. You expected anger when he turned to face her but no, there was nothing but sympathy in his eyes. Sympathy for what he had to reveal to her. He towered over her and with a heavy hand on her shoulder, said:
“That Miles Morales… was never supposed to be a Spider-Man. He’s not one of us. He’s an anomaly , Gwen, the original anomaly.”
At those words, it was like a string was pulled, released and an arrow soared and struck her chest. Gwen was trying to make sense of it all but nothing made sense no matter how long she thought about it.
Miguel continued regardless. With the command of his hands, the projections swirled around you three, depicting the moment when Spider-42 fell into Earth-1610, bit the wrong Miles Morales and in turn, the Spider-man from his universe died. Your real comrade.
Gwen didn’t want to believe it. Shaking her head as she stared at each projection. The truth floated around her. Thoughts ran a mile a minute. It would’ve been better if Peter B. told her instead of Miguel. Maybe if she heard it from a trusted friend, it would’ve been easier to believe. But Gwen knew there was no reason for Miguel to lie about this. What motive could Miguel have to not let Miles join the Spider Society?
“Miles Morales-1610 as Spider-man was a mistake.” His words to her were the final nail to a coffin. With the skidding sound coming from her shoes, she turned around and bolted out of Miguel’s office.
“Gwen!” You were about to chase after her until Miguel’s voice cut through the air.
“You think I’m done here?”
You physically jumped at how loud he sounded like thunder had rolled and rumbled the floor under your feet. You turned towards him and immediately you regretted it. What was brewing before was most certainly his anger, saved solely for you while Gwen was spared because of her naivety. But you—you knew better than to associate yourself with the anomaly. If only Miguel could give you a chance to explain yourself.
“Miguel, I—”
He didn’t let you finish. His hand latched onto your wrist, pulling you deeper into his office and into a room beyond the shadows. It was more like a traditional office than the one outside with a desk, a bookcase, a soft couch and some cabinets. There was even a bed that Miguel probably slept in whenever he didn't want to return home. The sheets were ruffled so you could tell he often used it but never had enough time to make it because he was usually always on the go.
However, it was the last thing on your mind when you had a fuming Miguel in front of you. He didn’t even wait for the door to close before he grabbed you a little too rough by the shoulders, shaking you lightly. Red eyes lasered down on you.
Undoubtedly, you knew he was angry, but there was something else in there.
“What were you thinking? You know what Miles-1610 is to us, Doc! You know what an anomaly could do to a universe and you still supported her idea? Did you really think that was okay? Letting an anomaly join and ruin everything —!”
“I didn’t know! I didn’t know that’s what she wanted to ask! All she told me was that it would support the society and she needed me here for emotional support! If I knew it was about the anomaly, I wouldn’t have come here!”
You yelled back louder. Miguel’s talon-less fingers buried themselves in your upper arms, squeezing them. His eyes were wide, shaky red irises searching within your own for any hint of honesty. The grip on you wasn’t as firm as it looked. Like a crane holding a prize, the slightest nudge would’ve shaken his hands off. Despite how he looked, Miguel made sure he wasn’t hurting you.
“This is exactly why I told Jess I didn’t want her to join! She’s—She’s too close with the anomaly. She can jeopardize our entire cause all because of him !” He froze after, an idea appearing in his head. He wasn’t thinking rationally anymore. He released you, turning around like he wanted to leave. “She has to go home.”
“Wait! You can’t—Let’s think about this, Miguel.”
He was quick to face you again, his hands returning to your upper arms. He bent forward until his face was at your level. “I can’t have her risk all that I built—that we built.”
There it was. It wasn’t just anger he was feeling. The signs were all there; His trembling breath, the sweat that made his forehead glossy, the weakness in his hold. 
Miguel was panicking.
It was fear that buried itself within his fury from the moment Gwen had asked for Miles-1610’s recruitment and when he thought you supported her idea. It was like he saw it again. His daughter disappearing in his arms, the weight of her so heavy… until he felt nothing—until nothing around him existed except for what remained of the universe: white light and empty space. He had the blood of that universe on his hands and no matter how many times he tried to wash them away, it was now embedded in his soul. All that existed ended because he was the anomaly of that world disrupting the canon events. 
Months after months of research couldn’t bring him the exact reason for that universe ending, but he was sure of one thing. If everything went how it was planned, nothing like that would happen ever again.
And that’s why it was his job to put things back to how it was. It was the only thing he could do to atone.
So yes, Miguel was reliving his trauma yet again.
And it was your job to relieve him of it.
“That doesn’t mean we should make rash decisions,” you told him, gently. “She’s one of our best and letting her go would slow down our efforts. You and I both know that.”
Miguel’s energy was being sapped out of him, visibly his shoulders dropped and those red eyes were no longer on you as he hung his head low. He released you and retreated to sit on his bed. For a moment, he looked like a toy that ran out of batteries, burying his face in his hands before he ran them through his curly locks.
It was so different seeing him like this—like he was moping. You followed him and stood between his legs.
“Besides, Gwen's a smart girl. She wouldn’t do anything that would put the universes at risk.” He didn’t respond or even look at you. It made you run a hand against his cheek as your thumb brushed under his eye. “When’s the last time you slept? You look tired.”
“I don’t have time to be tired. Not when there’s a Galaxy-size mess I have to clean up. With every anomaly we restore, 10,000 more just take its place. It’s never-ending, Doc. I’m like a janitor mopping up a shoreline.” 
“We all took an oath. A spider-person’s job never ends. Which is why we need to rest as much as we can to fight another day.”
“I didn’t ask for this, Doc.” He sighed, leaning his head against your hand until his cheek pushed up against it. “And I won’t be able to sleep.”
“None of us did…” you lightly smiled, “And I’ll help you.”
You pulled your hand away from his cheek, but you didn’t miss when he leaned more against it for his lips to press into your palm. The brief feel of them jolted something within you like a warm shiver struck your lower stomach. Gosh, it made you curious—too curious about how they would feel against other parts of your body.
And you didn’t miss those eyes that looked up at you, red like cherries, sweet like them too. It was hard to turn away, somewhat thankful you managed to because you didn’t want to be under their spell. You still felt the heat of them on you even as you approached his bookcase. Your palm still tingling from the feel of his lips as you pulled a book off one of the shelves. You returned to him grinning.
He was disappointed when he glanced at your book choice in your hand. “Charlotte’s web? Am I a kid to you?”
“No, but… you act like one sometimes. Lay down for me.”
You pushed against his shoulder leaving him no choice but to oblige. What he didn’t expect was you to climb in after him, settling on your side next to him while you opened the book to page one and started to read. 
Miguel still couldn’t sleep. His eyes remained open, watching the top of your head as you read. A lovely smile on your face as you tried (and failed) to give each character their own distinctive voice. When you weren’t busy turning the page, the hand that he kissed was together with his, fingers interlocked. You were so used to holding his hand by now that you thought nothing of it and ignored the warmth that spread throughout your body because of it.
“Are you finally resuming our sessions?” Miguel interrupted you, pulling your eyes away from the book and into his own.
“Only if you need it.”
You knew Miguel would never admit he needed it, especially how adamant he was about them in the beginning.
“I need it.”
Oh.
“I definitely need it.”
“Then… I’ll put you back on my calendar.”
“ Muy Bien. ”
His sonorous whisper had heat searing your cheeks, not to mention, that smile that flashed your way made his fangs look bigger—so mischievous it had you biting your lip. Immediately after, Miguel’s mask materialized around his head. Much to your disappointment.
“Do you really need your mask on while you sleep?” You asked.
“You never know when the job needs you. Have to always be on the ready.”
“Words from a true workaholic… you said you wanted a family but how exactly were you going to make time for them when you’re working all these hours?”
“Oh, I always made time for mi hija . Always went to her soccer practice. Always was there to read her a bedtime story. Take her clothes shopping. I was made to be a dad but… it just isn’t in my fate to be one.”
You couldn’t see his face, but you heard his pain. You squeezed his hand, regretful.
“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, no, no, no—It’s okay… It’s a valid question.”
Not knowing what else to say, you continued to read. Seconds, minutes, time ticked away. Miguel’s hand was still tight in yours, but his voice came out heavy whenever he commented about the book. His head was against the pillows, turned in your direction. 
Your voice must’ve been soothing him because his hand would grow weak in yours and then he would suddenly squeeze it, throwing a random comment out about the main character, Wilbur, and then trying to convince you he didn’t fall asleep. Sometimes the heat where your hands came together would make him doze off and the coolness that grew when they were briefly apart would stir him awake.
“Maybe we should’ve recruited Charlotte. She really saved that pig’s ass,” he mumbled, looking like he had sunk deeper into his bed, the pillows swallowed his head.
“Yeah, she dedicated her life to saving him. All the way to the very end. She never gave up, spending hours weaving her web, trying to convince the humans no matter how tough it got. I’m sure she may have felt like she was… mopping up a shoreline too but her actions paid off in the end… the difference is, you’re not alone, Miguel. You have us—all of us to rely on, to help shoulder the burden. Please don’t forget that—that we’re here for you.”
You expected something, anything from him, but you received nothing but silence. “Miguel…? Oh…” it was then you noticed his hand was weak in yours and when you pulled your hand away, he stayed asleep.
Finally. You couldn’t help but smile, softly closing the book before sitting up.
You watched his chest rise and fall as he lay supine against his bed. You should’ve left his office but you stayed there watching him sleep, taking in the rare sight of Miguel completely defenseless. You wished you could’ve seen his face. It would’ve been the topping on the cake.
Your fingers brushed against his arm, suddenly craving the warmth of his body.
You couldn’t deny your feelings for him any longer, but you wondered if Miguel felt anything for you. You knew how lonely men acted. As long as the body was warm and could keep them company, it didn’t matter to them.
Some part of you wondered if you were just as lonely as Miguel—that these feelings were just because you craved for someone. Maybe it was even the reason why you sprung up this agreement in the first place. After your divorce, you became married to your work, the only thing that mattered was your patients as a therapist and the people you saved as a superhero. You abandoned yourself, shutting yourself off from the world within your white-walled apartment. It was why you looked up to Miguel as much as you did because he was the one who pulled you out of your darkness. So you were hoping you could do the same thing for him.
But you knew your heart beat too strongly for it to be just feelings of loneliness. It longed for him even when you were this close to him, wanting to be surrounded by the warmth that emanated from him, wanting to be touched, kissed, and held only by the man who saved you, your guiding light while you were lost at sea.
Your hand moved to caress his cheek, feeling the fibers of his mask under your fingertips. You were leaning closer to him, unable to resist like a moth to a flame. God, you were completely enamored by him. Looks like he didn’t need to look at you to be under his spell.
For the first time, you didn’t think about the consequences. For the first time, you were mindless.
You pressed your lips against his lips, closing your eyes. It was softer than you expected; light, feathery and warm. Too warm . It was brief but it was enough to light a flame within you that burned when you pulled away. Your breath shuddered as you inhaled, the warmth lasting only a second.
Your eyes opened, but you found yourself stilling. Miguel’s eyes were still closed, though half of his mask was dematerialized to the tip of his nose. His lips were out, free from the fibers.
Your mouth hung open. Miguel had removed half of his mask when kissed him and you hadn't a clue if he was asleep all this time or not.
The remainder of his mask dematerialized and you were face to face with those eyes of his. Your heart skipped a beat, knocking the air from your lungs as your palms grew sweaty. 
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
You felt so much pressure under his gaze, his face not quite readable. You flicked your wrist towards the ceiling and a web shot out, preparing yourself to run away until a glowing red web wrapped around your wrist and riveted you in place.
“Not this time, Doc.”
------------------------------
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@oikawa-bubs @brittney69 @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @allysunny @smarty0029 @96jnie @deepinballs @lovecandyuwu @remuslupinwifee
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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year
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HIII i just discovered u recently and i love ur writing and acc sm!!! i was wondering if u could do a scenario where in the taehun’s s/o thinks that taehun’s dad is hot (i mean he is the ult dilf esp in manager kim 😩😩😩😩)
Aww ty anon your kind words fuel me, legit cant believe yall like my bs! YES I WOULD LOVE TO AND I COMPLETELY AGREE, HE IS THE BEST DILF
Seong Taehoon x Reader: meeting the DILF
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"Is your dad going to be home?"
"How should I know?"
You click your tongue at Taehoon in annoyance. Today is the first time going to his house, you haven't actually met his dad yet despite hanging out at the studio occasionally. This asshole, he could be more considerate of the situation.
"What do you mean you don't know? Meeting a parent is a big deal! Should I have bought a gift?"
Taehoon flicks your forehead in response, "Stop worrying you big nerd, my dad won't care."
You remain unmoved by his front door, arms folded, and a nervous expression adorns your face. In an attempt to pacify, Taehoon snakes his arms around your waist.
"Listen loser, he might not even be in so you're worrying for nothing," he places a kiss atop your head. "Besides, he thinks you're good for me."
It works.
As soon as you enter, you catch Taehoon's dad in the hallway and freeze.
"Hi, you must be Y/N. Taehoon's mentioned a lot about you!" Hansu Seong gives you a smile. You take in his Taekwondo dobok, showing his defined pecs.
Even underneath the loose fit, you could tell that this man is well musculed. You could make out the shape of powerful thighs, and his top straining against buff shoulders and biceps. His sleeves are rolled up revealing strong, vascular forearms. You gulp.
"I haven't said shit, old man," Taehoon's words snap you out of your ogling.
"Don't be so rude to your dad!" you give Taehoon a light slap on the arm before returning the greeting, "Hello Mr. Seong! I can see where Taehoon gets his good looks from!"
Huh. It's also interesting to see where Taehoon gets his fluster from too.
"Oh. Ahem, well thank you, Y/N." Hansu clears his throat, cheeks pink.
Taehoon quickly ushers you away, "We'll be in my room!" and leaves his poor dad still standing there, not quite processing the compliment.
Taehoon slams the door and turns to glare at you.
"What the fuck was that?"
"What?" you throw him a cheeky grin, "Your dad's a DILF!"
It takes a moment for him to realise what you said. You could literally see the cogs whirring and the split-second the understanding dawns on him. Taehoon looked like he was stuck between beating you up or cringing so hard he would die. You think you might have broken him.
"Well you should have told me your dad is hot! I could have prepared myself." You try to defend yourself, poorly.
"Are you kidding me?" Taehoon rubs at his temples, he feels either the world's worst headache coming on or he might be on the verge of a mental breakdown, "Don't think I won't kick you."
"It's a compliment! If that's what I've got to look forward to once you're his age..." you glance at him slyly, weighing up if a kick is worth what comes next-
"...You know. A proper daddy."
Taehoon throws himself on the bed, not wanting to be a part of this world anymore.
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perichuuu · 1 year
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NEWEST Techbots! Designs found on ODS's Twitter : https://twitter.com/opdessertstorm
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royal-wren · 1 year
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Favorite/Lesser known or lesser focused on Hermes epithets, both historical and upg. There are a lot of epithets that are easily applicable to Hermes and his roles/associations/domains for his endless reach. If it's one that I've given him as there is nothing there for that part of him it will have an asterisk (*) by it. Also, if you're expecting anything alphabetical you will be sorely disappointed.
Hermes Psithyristes - Whispering or The Whisperer. It highlights Hermes as the god who whispers his advice to the ear of those who ask him. It doesn't take much to look at this epithet and connect it to his oracle connected to Hermes Agoraios. Those that look to learn the knowledge of the future will tell him personally and hear his answer through the people that resonates with the one asking.
*Hermes Xenios - Of the Stranger/Guest or Of Hospitality. It goes without saying considering he is a god of the home, one that protects it (and any in the home) by every entrance as well as the god of travelers and friend of man.
Hermes Agroter - Of the Field.
Hermes Epikthonios - Dwelling on Earth/Earthly.
*Hermes Nyktelios - Of the Night, Nocturnal. I personally heavily connect him to the night and he has many historical domains in connection to it. Zeus and Maia met in the night and Hermes has lovers meet in the night, delights in it, and travels through it.
Hermes Pyledokos - The Door Watcher. Important to the divine pairing of Hestia and Hermes especially prominent as two gods of the home. Hestia dwelled inside, found at the very heart and in every room while Hermes was the one protecting every entrance to keep out what isn't wanted.
Atlantiades - In relation to his mother as a daughter of Atlas, signifying his status as the Titan's grandson.
Hermes Epiklopios/Klepsiphronos - The Stealthy-minded.
*Hermes Troglodýtis - One who crawls in holes or caves, such as a snake or fox, Cave Dweller/Dwelling, plus it also relates to wrens under the genus name. Contextually this is highly specific to his domain over mountains and caves and animals like snakes and those in the Canidae family, as well as my upg connection to Hermes and wrens (and birds in general).
Hermes Pantokrátōr - Ruler of the World/Ruler of All or All-powerful. It might have only been used once or twice as far as documentation goes but it's definitely earned a spot here. It's more on a personal basis for the worshipper and holds importance to me.
Hermes Koryphaîos - Leader of the Chorus. In relation to his position with the many Nymphai (Nymphs), he was the deity most associated with them and stood between man and the Nymphai for their worship.
*Hermes Aîtos - Something given: allotment, share. Easily applicable to his position in regard to life and death as well as luck. I also connect it to his relation to the Moirai as someone that works with them in a similar manner to Tykhe. Could be ambiguous as to whether it is positive or negative (or somewhere in between).
*Hermes Oîtos - Fate, Doom. In a similar vein to Hermes Aîtos but no longer ambiguous as it has a more negative meaning to it. More specifically in relation to Hermes Psykhopompos and Hermes Khthonios who works with the Moirai, Thanatos, and Kharon. The epithet in relation to death and the afterlife, one part of the cog that keeps the world in order that waits for us all at the end of our thread of life weaved by the Fates.
Hermes Areiās - Warlike, Curser, or Defender/Protector, possibly He who succors Ares. Outside of Mycenaean times could easily apply in relation to Hermes Kriophoros and Hermes Keryx (a mix of the two), as well as his domain over diplomacy and heralds that all play a part in war.
Hermes Dendrites - Of the Trees.
Hermes Kedrites - Of the Cedar Trees. The source of this epithet comes from Syme (Crete) where he is a god of vegetation and initiation into adulthood with Aphrodite.
Hermes Dromios - Of the Stadium.
*Hermes Klazo - To make a sharp piercing sound.
Hermes Syskopos - Sharp Sighted.
*Hermes Kosmâs (Hermes Kósmos also works) - Derived from kosméô (κοσμέω) kósmos (κόσμος), meaning order, lawful, government, ornament, decoration, honor, credit, world, universe, earth. It's an epithet that I hold close to me and hold with great importance for my special interest and adoration of space and everything in it. As Hermes is a god of astronomy, astrology, and constellations (making them in conjunction with Hera as well as teaching others about them), as well as his relation with his blue supergiant star immediate family and another epithet of mine Star-Born. The god that is both really ancient (as far as historical records and appearance(middle-aged)) and super young with so much life and energy with many eras to live through. A god of galaxies, their death, and birth in a cycle that is wide-reaching and covers the infinite and sometimes just a figurative coverage of how much he does. From the universe(s) back is his reach and everything he has hands in, as well as everything yet to connect to him for the past and future.
Hermes Deilakrion - Poor fellow. God of the greedy, lions, the devourer, the starving, the hungry, one that can't be contained or restrained. The one god I personally associate with driving those looking to learn no matter what to feel insatiable in the hunt for it. Also akin to a bringer of knowledge for the forbidden, what might drive one mad but make one enlightened.
Hermes Oneiropompos - Bringer of Dreams. For all the people that struggle to sleep and to remember dreams (like me), he ensures it. I have never slept so soundly and dreamed so vividly as I have with him.
*Hermes Episteme - Knowledge, Understanding (Science basically). He is the drive that spurns others on for the sake of creation, to find out the intricacies of life and what's good and bad. The god that fucks around and finds out regardless of the outcome with good intentions to know what to continue and stay away from.
Potnios Theron - Master of Animals.
*Hermes Tríbō - To Rub, Friction. A double meaning both as the creator of fire without reliance on nature that can be done by anyone with the right tools/knowledge. It also relates to Hermes' domain and part to play with marriage, the consummation, and unity during the first night. In the company of Aphrodite, Hermes makes this pass and for the modern day can easily represent a passionate night between two people that love each other.
*Hermes Astronómos - Pertaining to his domain over astrology and astronomy (especially as the one that teaches it), but especially with space and the stars as a whole. If it exists out there beyond the blue sky we are familiar with it's deeply connected to him.
*Mercurius Arieto/Arietare - To strike violently like a ram, batter, or to disturb, harass, or disquiet. A hundred percent a UPG/SPG epithet but one that stands out, especially with the person he becomes under the name of Mercurius/Mercury. A god more tightly wound with an intensity barely restrained behind an air of calm and indifference. It appropriately covers the change to fit the new culture and people that worshipped him under this name, a wolf-like god with sharp teeth and horns to show his wild nature.
Hermes Katokhos - To bind or restrain.
Hermes Kranaios - Of the Fountain? Of Springs.
*Hermes Keleasma - A shout implying authority and urgency. The idea is of a loud, authoritative cry, often uttered in the thick of great excitement. He is the deity whose voice is louder than anyone else's by a wide berth. Stentor(ians) will quiver before him as he has no match.
Hermes Kandaules - The Dog-Throttler or Throttler of the Beast. A Lydian god, an epithet denoting religious syncretism. Akin to an extension of Potnios Theron especially as one that tames animals especially predators and monsters like the Khimaira.
*Hermes Bromos/Bromios - For any sudden, loud noise, the crackling fire, and the roaring of the storm (the tearing or whistling wind).
*Hermes Anemos - To breathe, blow, wind, a violent agitation and stream of air.
*Hermes Philósophos - Loving wisdom, lover of knowledge/wisdom, educated, learned person, professor, philosopher, scientific, philosophic.
Hermes Kataibatês - Descending, in relation to Hermes being a conductor of souls and in his function as an underworld deity.
Sources:
Hermes a-re-ja: a new interpretation by José Marcos Macedo
Theoi.com
Hermes Epithets
"Candaules, whom the Greeks name Myrsilus … " by J. A. S. Evans
Miller, John F., and Jenny Strauss Clay (eds), Tracking Hermes, Pursuing Mercury (Oxford, 2019; online edn, Oxford Academic, 21 Mar. 2019), https://doi.org/10.1093/oso/9780198777342.001.0001
Bolling, George Melville. “Kandaules.” Language, vol. 3, no. 1, 1927, pp. 15–18. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/409642.
Lebessi, Angeliki. “Hermes as Master of Lions at the Syme Sanctuary, Crete.” British School at Athens Studies, vol. 18, 2010, pp. 195–202. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/23276776
Chittenden, Jacqueline. “The Master of Animals.” Hesperia: The Journal of the American School of Classical Studies at Athens, vol. 16, no. 2, 1947, pp. 89–114. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/146954
Keleasma Definition
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shhtickerbook · 3 months
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Hiii since u like hazbin could i get some headcanons for regressed sir pentious he just gives regressor vibes to me thank u
Yes!!!
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Little! Sir Pentious Headcanons
• His little age is around 3-5, always up and causing chaos. He loves dressing up and pretend games, but you have to follow the rules! (Which there are many usually)
• Extremely weepy and sensitive, the slightest little comment or criticism can immediately make him burst into tears. Everything needs to go to his routine and if feels like he’s out of control it makes him feel very unstable. I headcanon him as autistic !
• Absolute blankie kid, has an ochre yellow blanket embroidered with little black snakes. Always holding it close and rubbing it against his face. Meaning it can get a little gross over time, there’s a lot of hissing and crying if Charlie or Vaggie try to take it to be cleaned
• Building blocks are his favourite toy! He will spent hours building to his hearts content, buildings, vehicles and airships (obviously) But there’s the odd occasion where a certain little angel finds it extremely fun to knock them down. Which triggers many tears and fights between the both of them.
• Huge sensory seeker!!! He built himself his own sensory wall for his room, lots of things to push, cogs to turn and switches. As well as a selection of different textured panels to run his fingers over.
• Charlie is his favourite caregiver, and she spoils him absolutely rotten. Often follows her around like a shadow, wanting her to come see what he’s built or coloured. But his egg boys also do their bit to care for their master when needed!
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Feel free to add your own in replies or RBS!
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