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#and I need to sit and focus on reading that one you know
sahkuna · 2 days
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a follow up to this drabble i wrote abt fucking around with yuuji's older brother sukuna :3 but fret not, this can be read as a stand-alone
word count: 1.5k+
content warnings: 18+ minors dni, childhood "friends" with benefits, best friend's brother trope, modern au, slight exhibitionism on the behalf of u and sukuna :3
You would rather die than step out into Sukuna's living room where his younger brother, Itadori Yuuji, sits blissfully unaware of your presence.
Half of you does not have the heart to walk out there and potentially expose the fact that ‘Hey, I’m that ‘random girl' that Sukuna has been canoodling with! Sorry about that, by the way!’ You couldn’t imagine his reaction and didn’t want to find out anytime soon, so you’re currently hiding out in Sukuna’s bedroom— praying and hoping that Yuuji would leave before you do.
After hearing the younger Itadori brother’s unrelenting fists pounding at Sukuna’s front door, you were absolutely mortified at the timing of it all. From his arrival to how Sukuna was balls deep inside your pussy— and showed little to no concern at the fact that Yuuji might hear the… commotion… on the other side— it all went from good to bad real fast.
It didn’t take long for Sukuna to grow irritated with the sounds of Yuuji’s incessant whining for him to open the door and not invite him over when he’s got ‘some girl’ there, before he finally pulled out of you, threw on some clothes and yanked the door open. Almost ripping it off its hinges.
Pushing back the thoughts of the sex (and how incredible it was), you focus on the main task at hand.
You need to leave. Now.
Squatted down on the floor, you search for your black lace bralette that Sukuna tossed into a corner hours before his little brother’s abrupt arrival. “Can’t believe this…” you mutter under your breath.
From behind you, you swear you hear a faint snicker coming from the man who got you in this predicament in the first place. He watches you with careful eyes as you tip-toe around his room with nothing but your jeans and socks on, trying not to alert your best friend in the next room over of your presence. “Relax, the brat can’t even hear you,” he says.
“You don’t know that,” you all but hiss, throwing a threatening glare (one that he doesn’t flinch under) Sukuna’s way. “He could be waiting there, ready to accost me the moment I walk out!”
Honestly, you wouldn’t blame Yuuji if he did choose to confront you and verbally rip you to shreds. For Christ’s sake, you were fucking his brother behind his back! Quite literally.
But despite the circumstances of you starting a “friends with benefits” type of relationship with Sukuna and how terrible it made you feel to secretly withhold something so significant from your best friend, you’d be lying if you said you wanted to stop.
Judging how Sukuna’s gaze trails up the expanse of your belly and lifts higher to linger briefly on the swell of your breasts, it’s safe to say he thinks the same.
 You toss a protective arm over your exposed chest to preserve some of your dignity despite the circumstances.
“Can you just—” you flounder for words, trying to find the best words to use next and finally settle on something. “Distract him? Talk to him so that when I leave, he doesn’t have time to digest that it’s me.”
There’s an amused glint in his eye, he’s far too entertained at your frail attempts to at least salvage this shitty situation. Your eyes leave him in search of your bra once more and breathe a quiet sigh of relief once you do spot it behind his dresser. “Just walk out the door. Who cares.” 
Wasting no time you throw on the undergarment, clasping it shut before your attention is drawn back to Sukuna. Your face morphs into pure astonishment at how nonchalant he is about this… and reckless. “Are you crazy?!” you whisper-yell for the second time this day.
The corners of his lips curl up, forming a wicked grin. “It’ll be fine. You should go out as you are right now.” He gestures at your half-dressed figure with an uncaring hand. “I’m sure he’ll like it.”
Speaking of…
“Give me one of your sweaters. Preferably one that has a hood.”
Sukuna’s eyes narrow, and his tone lowers a bit. “Leave with what you came with. Don’t know why you’re so threatened over the fact that he’ll see you.”
“No! Yuuji’s seen me one too many times in this shirt,” you reference the tee that is scribbled with your university’s name on its front, “so he’ll know it’s me if he were to turn his head.”
Sukuna clicks his tongue with annoyance and though it’s brief, you catch an expression that you can only chalk up to be one of disappointment flicker across his face before he schools it back into indifference. “Fine.”
Standing abruptly, Sukuna leaves his spot on his bed to head toward the closet. He digs around for a few seconds before he pulls out a black sweater and flings it at your face, effectively clouding your vision until you peel it off. “Hurry up then.” Is all you hear before he leaves the room to go see Yuuji once again.
Okay. That went… pretty well? Excluding the tough time Sukuna gave you before and after.
You let out another involuntary moan when Sukuna drives his hips into you when another round of knocks echoes throughout his apartment. You can feel your cunt squeeze around his cock, feeling the intense heat from the predicament you both were in right now.
“You’re real perverted, huh?” Sukuna’s hand finds the back of your neck. He squeezes. “Don’t tell me you’re getting turned on by this?”
Another muffled exclamation escapes you as you try to refute it, but Sukuna laughs at your attempt.
Yuuji might hear. Yuuji might hear. Yuuji might hear. That was all you could think of.
“Cute.” Is all Sukuna says before he’s back to thrusting his hips against yours. Forcing you to take it as you lay in a blissful, helpless state on his bed, rocking the bed roughly with every movement he made.
In and out, over and over and over and—
You smack your palms against your cheeks. Stop! Stop. Thinking. About it! You remind yourself.
You’re sure you’ve spent too much time in here anyway, so you throw on Sukuna’s sweater hurriedly. You tuck away any hair that may show into the hoodie as you hype yourself to exit.
Thankfully, it seems like Yuuji has delved into chattering boisterously away about God knows what to Sukuna, while his older brother just sits there only offering a few grunts and affirmatory noises to show that he was listening. Kinda… Not really.
Stepping out from the bedroom, you close the door in a manner that would have Sukuna chiding you to ‘hurry the fuck up’. Once that’s done, you very quietly pad down the hallway and make a beeline straight towards your shoes. You thank your lucky stars you chose ones that were easy to slip on.
Great. Everything is going smoothly so far.
Yuuji’s still talking away and unaware of your company and you’re dressed ready to head back out to where the bustling street of Tokyo awaits you.
But it gets shot down too fast. Before you can even grasp your hand around the doorknob, you hear Sukuna speak up from behind you.
“Leaving so soon?”
That fucking asshole.
No way in hell did he just draw attention to you right as you were about to step out the door.
Biting your cheek you keep your back facing them, forehead pressed into the door’s frame as you grip its doorknob to refrain from screaming. “Mhm!”
Sukuna’s laughter is low and taunting. You can tell that he’s basking in this moment, being able to mock both you and his little brother at the same time in a manner that screams I know something that you don’t know.  “You know, she went to the same school as you, kid.” He’s now talking to Yuuji, prompting him to say something to you and he bites.
“It’s uh… nice to meet you?” you hear Yuuji say.
God, you can even picture that dumb confused yet polite expression he makes when he’s caught in an awkward situation.
“Mhm!” you repeat, because what the fuck else is there to say?
There’s a long beat of silence, the brothers don’t say anything and neither do you. You wouldn’t dare.
It isn’t until Itadori’s voice from the couch floats over to you. His tone is riddled with confusion and a bit of recognition. “Hold on, I think I—”
“I’m gonna see her off, don’t move.” Sukuna commands, successfully interrupting his train of thought. Swooping into the rescue, you hear him come up to you. He toes on his shoes and places his palm on top of yours so that he can twist the knob open. His hand dwarfs the size of your own.
Woof.
You’re ushered outside, and it’s like that all the way to the elevator with Sukuna’s hand still seizing your hand. It’s only when you slap your hand against the button calling for the elevator that he lets go. You don’t bother exchanging any parting words for him, seeing that you’re too peeved to do so anyway. Thus, Sukuna speaks up before the lift dings signifying its arrival.
“Same time next week?”
“Shut. Up!”
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sturnlovr · 2 days
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𝑷𝑶𝑳𝑨𝑹𝑶𝑰𝑫 ┆彡
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Pairing: boyfriend/dom!chris • poc/sub!reader
Summary: you and your boyfriend are messing around with a polaroid camera, which suddenly takes a quick turn . . .
Warnings: smuttyy, p in v, overstimulation, pet names (baby), fingering, degradation if you squint, faux sympathy, getting caught?, oral (fem receiving), choking.
Authors note: SORRY THIS IS REALLY SHORT IM WORKING ON A LONGER FIC RN AND THIS IS JS A LITTLE FILLER (also i didnt add a taglist because its not letting me tag people)
NOT PROOF READ !!
comment here to be added to the taglist
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𓂃⊹ ִֶָ
You were currently in the triplets house, specifically your boyfriend, chris sturniolos room. You were taking polaroids of him in his clothing brand, fresh love to post on insta and include in orders.
"Okay, now just sit still on the bed with your arms crossed . . . no wait run your fingers through your hair theres a peice sticking out" You try to explain to chris who was lost in his own world.
"Like this?" He questions, running his hands through his locks, the triggering strand of hair still out of place.
You groan, growing annoyed,
"No, just like this," you huff, straddling him to fix it and any other imperfections. Your tits slightly bounce infront of his face, you feel him smirk under you and the tent in his grey fresh love sweats slowly rising.
The boy puts his hands on your hips initiating you to rock on his lap,
"Chris we need to finish these pictures," You breathe out, trying to hide how turned on and wet your becoming. His grip on you is so strong that your struggling to get out of it.
"I was thinking we could take some photos of you?" Your boyfriend suggests, still keeping his firm grip, tracing random lines with his finger on your thighs.
"I dont know chris.." You bury your head in his neck, you have always been camera shy.
"It'll be fun baby, i promise" He whispers the last part in your ear before gently nibbling on it, making you practically drenched through your clothed pussy.
You nod and pull him in for a kiss which was soft and sensual, which turned into a sloppy and heated one. He bites your bottom lip, swapping spit with you. You start to grind on him, making him groan into the kiss which gave you a chance for your toungue to take dominance. He quickly grabs the camera, snapping a polaroid of the two of you making out and letting the photo drop on the bed.
You both pull away, his lips swollen, puffy and tinted purple. Chris removes your oversized fresh love shirt which left you in only your thong, no bra. He picks you up and places you on the edge of his bed. Chris forces your legs open, smiling at the thong that your wearing. it's his favourite.
He yanks it off, stuffing it into his pocket. The confused expression on your face is interrupted by chris' toungue plunging into your hole. His toungue explored your walls, it didnt seem like he was going to stop anytime soon. He was drunk on your pussy. His toungue pulled out and flicked your clit. As you reached your high, you let a loud moan slip out which causes him to stop.
"We have to be quiet baby, you dont want my brothers to hear your pretty noises do you?" You mutter a soft okay before chris runs a finger through your folds collecting your juices and bringing it to his mouth, pulling them out, making a pop sound while keeping intense eye contact before switching his focus back to your pussy.
"So fucking wet for me" He groans with his mouth near your entrance which sent vibrations through your body making you cover your mouth with your hand, hiding your moans. He takes the polaroid camera and takes a shot of your drenched pussy.
Without warning, your boyfriend pushes a finger into you, you whimper quietly feeling empty.
"Chris..." you whine,
The brunette chuckles at the sight of you,
"Awh, does the slut want more of my fingers?" He puts in another finger, thrusting it in and out at a high speed, curling it into your g-spot.
"Fuck this," He says in a low tone, slapping your hand away from your mouth,
"Wanna hear those pretty sounds," He adds a third finger into you. You move your hands to his brown curls, tugging at them while pornographic moans leave your mouth. Nick and Matt can definitely hear you.
"Oh, s-shit" you barely get the words out.
"Tell me what you want baby," His thumb finds your clit and starts to circle it.
"f-fuck i need you in m-me" you stutter as your legs start to shake, chris pulls you into another messy kiss, his fingers still moving at rapid speed.
"Let go for me ma" You instantly cream, your cum dripping out of you, of course ; chris takes another photo of this. He moves you further into the bed and flips you over so your head is facing the bed.
Chris takes his sweatpants and boxers off, throwing them somewhere in the room. He slaps your ass, kneading it shortly after.
"Ass up,"
you comply with his orders, raising your ass so it's on display below him. He hums and gives you another smack to your ass, leaving a stinging sensation.
He teases you, running his length across your entrance a few times before ramming into you, making you scream and see stars. He brings his mouth down to your back and peppers wet kisses in a trail, sucking on certain places being sure to leave a mark. He quietly whimpers, enjoying the feeling of being in you while trying to keep his dominant act.
"You close?" Chris pants, keeping his fast pace intact. You attempt to respond, but it comes out as estranged moans,
"Im fucking you dumb hm? you can't even get a word out. it's pathetic. " He scoffes and wraps his hand around your neck, slightly squeezing it. You squirm under him, trying to be free of his grasp, your sensitive bud pulsating at every thrust.
"Take it," He says through his teeth, throwing his head back at how tight you are. His thrusts start to get sloppier and slow down,
"Cum with me ma" You both release at the same time, his seed and your juices spill out together, Chris takes a polaroid of your mess before taking you to the shower to get cleaned up.
𓂃⊹ ִֶָ
You and chris come home from a date the next day, his arm around your shoulder as you enter his room to see matt holding one of the polaroids you guys took the other night. Your eyes instantly widen at the boy in chris' room, his face scrunched up with disgust. He turns to chris, not even looking at you.
"Next time, keep your door locked if you have weird shit like this in here"
He walks out, throwing the polaroid in his brothers face, who laughs at this. Your face burns with embarrassment, turning your dark skin to the slightest colour of pink.
𓂃⊹ ִֶָ
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superhaught · 12 hours
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Sweetest Girl
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Pairing: Regina George x Reader
Warning(s): slight reference to bad home life for reader?
Word Count: 1700, Part 1/?
Anonymous Asked: hello! I was wondering if I could request a regina x fem!reader fic where the the reader is known as the sweetest girl in school that everyone loves and regina is like “what’s so great about her” and just ends up falling in love with her
Enjoy! I intend to keep this one going :D
Regina knew that she wasn’t excelling in her chemistry course this year but she certainly didn’t think she was failing. But the teacher asked her to stay behind after class and gave her a solemn look as she explained that with Regina’s most recent test score (which was, admittedly, abysmal), her overall grade in the class would drop from barely passing to failing. 
“Well, what am I supposed to do? I’m a senior, it’s not like I can retake this class!” Regina griped, beginning to feel her stomach turn over in panic.
“Calm down, Miss George. You still have time to improve your grade. I’d recommend that you start working with a tutor. One of your classmates is available for such an arrangement as it turns out. She’s a very gifted student who is doing quite well in this class. She will likely tutor you not expecting anything at all in return. Are you willing to reach out to her?”
Regina crossed her arms in front of her chest, “I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”
Regina’s teacher formed a thin-lipped smile, “No, Miss George. You don’t.”
Regina took the slip of paper with the tutor’s contact info scribbled on it from the teacher and left the classroom for her locker in a huff. 
Gretchen and Karen were waiting for her and immediately, Gretchen was hounding the blonde in concern, “is everything okay, Regina? What did the teacher want?”
Regina sighed, “I’m failing. I need a tutor, I guess.”
“Oh no!!!” Gretchen exclaimed. 
Karen tapped into the conversation in a brief moment of focus and said, “don’t worry, Regina. I failed chemistry last year and had to be tutored, too.”
Regina rolled her eyes, “yes Karen, and you fucked your chemistry tutor instead of studying.”
Karen smiled, “oh yeah!”
Gretchen chimed in, “well, it’s going to be okay Regina. I bet you’ll do really well if someone can take their time to explain the concepts to you. Do you know who will tutor you?”
Regina nodded, “yeah, the teacher gave me this name. Someone in my class.” Regina passed the slip of paper to Gretchen. 
When the small brunette read the name she made an excited sound, “oh! I know her, she’s the sweetest ever! You’ll like her Regina. She’s like, the nicest girl in the school.”
Regina narrowed her eyes and snatched the paper back, “why would I like the nicest girl in school? She sounds like a try-hard… What makes her so great?”
-
You were enjoying your lunch outside in the courtyard because it was a sunny day out. You scrolled through your phone and an email notification caught your eye so you opened it right away. The email read: Hey, I need a chemistry tutor. Teacher gave me your name. Can you? -Regina George
Oh, wow. You thought. Regina George wants me to tutor her?
You typed your response back and sent it off with a whoosh: Hi Regina, I’m happy to help! Do you want to meet to go over logistics today after school? I’ll be in the library if you want to swing by :) you can also feel free to text me if that’s easier
You sent Regina your phone number at the end of the email and in a few minutes, you got a text from, presumably, Regina. She said, “okay whatever” then another few seconds passed and she sent another text, “this is Regina, obviously.”
You responded, “haha yes, I figured!”
The little bubble that indicated she was typing popped up for a long moment and then disappeared. Then it popped back up and turned into a simple text, “k.”
-
Later that same day, you were sitting in the library doing your homework in the welcome peace and quiet. As you were working, you saw the blonde out of the corner of your eye. 
Regina walked down the half staircase into the library and flipped her hair over her shoulder, her tote bag hung from the crook of her elbow, and her other hand held an iced latte notably not from the student-run cafe but instead from the Starbucks down the road from the school. 
Regina approached your table and plopped her bag down on the floor and pulled out the chair across from you, “went to get a coffee before meeting you, hope you don’t mind. You didn’t want anything did you?”
You smiled and shook your head, “I don’t mind, and no thank you, I’m okay. I don’t drink coffee.”
Regina raised an eyebrow as she sat down, “you don’t drink coffee? How do you survive?”
You laugh lightly, “I guess I’ve never really needed it, and I prefer tea anyway.”
“Huh…” Regina didn’t seem satisfied with your answer but she dropped it, “so, do you just stay here to do homework after school?”
“Usually, yeah! I like to get as much done as I can before the library closes.”
“Why would you want to spend more time in this godforsaken school?”
You swallowed hard, “Oh, um… just ‘cause.”
“Kay…”
“So, do you want to talk about tutoring for chemistry?”
“Sure.”
“Okay great, do you know how often you want to meet or how many hours you want to do per week?”
“Christ, I don’t know.”
“It’s okay!” You assured her, “let’s just start with two hours a week for now. We can meet twice a week for one hour each and see if that feels good or if we need to work more or drop down to just an hour.” 
“Alright.”
“Does this time work for you?”
“Yeah.”
“And what about another day in the week?” You asked.
Regina shrugged, “Thursdays?”
“Perfect!” You jotted down a note of the schedule in your planner.
“Do you tutor a lot?” Regina asked, then sipped her coffee.
“Not super often. When I do, it’s usually because a teacher recommended me.”
“Are you like a teachers pet or something?” 
“I don’t know, I just like helping.” 
Regina was silent for a moment. She was considering you. Examining you. 
“So for chemis-“ you began.
“You know, it’s like weird how nice you are. Like, it’s off putting.” 
“Oh… off putting?”
“Yeah, ya know. Like you don’t have to be nice all the time, or for free. Not everyone deserves kindness.” 
“I mean, I disagree, but-“ 
“I can pay you, you know. For tutoring me, I mean.” 
“You don’t have to, though. I don’t need you to.” 
Regina scoffed, “you’re just gonna give me your time and energy for nothing?” 
“Yes. I just want to help. It’s not transactional.” 
“Oh, you sweet thing. Everything is transactional. Maybe you don’t want my money but you expect to get something out of this, don’t you? Otherwise, you wouldn’t.” 
You were frustrated, “how do you know that? You don’t know me or what I’d do!” 
“No one does anything for free. No one performs a service for free. No one is that nice.” Regina took another drink of her coffee. 
“Are you trying to ruin this?” 
Regina raised an eyebrow again but was quick to respond, “am I making you mad?” 
“You’re frustrating me. I’m just trying to do a nice thing.” 
“So you don’t want me to question your motives?” 
“No! I mean…” you huffed angrily, you felt your cheeks grow increasingly red and hot, “there is no motive.” 
“I don’t believe that.” 
“Look, do you want my help or not?” 
“I want to be tutored. What I don’t want is to owe you anything.” 
“You don’t owe me anything!” 
Regina’s expression turned into the slightest smirk as she stood up from the table and grabbed her tote bag off the floor, “I’ll meet you again on Thursday to review this week’s course materials. When I see you again, I expect an answer about what exactly it is you hope to get out of doing this for me.” 
With that, Regina turned and left the library, her hair swishing behind her. 
You hadn’t noticed until then, but you had crumpled up a piece of paper in your hand during that conversation. 
-
Thursday came around too soon for your liking. You had no answer for Regina’s demand, other than the truth, which you didn’t want to tell her. 
At 4:05 pm sharp, Regina waltzed down the stairs into the library once again, tote bag in hand, removing her sunglasses in an elegant motion, a drink carrier from Starbucks with two drinks in her other hand. 
You watched as Regina gracefully spit her chewing gum into a trash can on her way while walking up to your table.
She took one of the cups out of the drink carrier and set it down in front of you, “chai latte. Is that okay?” 
Your jaw dropped open a bit as you stared stupidly at the drink and then back up at her, “y-yeah… that’s really nice, thank you.” 
Regina didn’t sit down, “do you have an answer for me?” 
You sighed, “you really won’t accept that I just want to help you out?” 
Regina wordlessly shook her head. 
You looked down at your hands and saw that they were shaking slightly, so you hid them under the table in your lap and kept your eyes averted from Regina as you whispered, “I do what I can to avoid spending time at home.” 
Regina remained silent. 
You looked back up at her. Her jaw was set and she had a severe expression. You watched her exhale a heavy breath through her nose, nostrils flaring, then she sat down across from you and dropped her bag onto the floor. 
“Okay,” she said simply. “Let’s get started then.” 
-
You spent the next hour reviewing that week's chemistry lessons with Regina. 
When you decided to stop for that evening, Regina reached across the table and wrote something into your notebook. 
“There, that’s my address. You don’t have to check in with me, or anything, you can just come over whenever you want to.”
“Regina, are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. My mom loves having company to entertain, and there’s plenty of space in my room for you to be comfortable and do work.”
“I… I don’t know what to say.”
“How about, ‘thank you?’”
You laughed and nodded, “thank you, Regina. Really.”
The blonde stood up and returned her notes to her bag, “‘course. See ya tomorrow in class.”
“See you then…”
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shadowdaddies · 8 hours
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I Need You Most
Azriel x Reader angst → smut
for this request
warnings: smut below the cut, light bondage, shadow play, masturbation, p in v sex, oral f!receiving
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You stormed into the bedroom, not bothering to hold the door open for Azriel who trailed closely behind. Practically ripping the shoes from your feet, you tossed them in the closet and reached around to loosen the ties on your dress.
Scarred hands gently covered yours. “Let me help,” your mate murmured, pulling the strings on the corset that you couldn’t reach. 
Before he could loosen the ties any further, you whipped around, face flushed red with anger. “Do not touch me right now,” you seethed, maneuvering around him back into the bedroom. Ignoring the awkward feeling of your half-done corset, you grabbed the book from your bedside table and moved to sit in one of the chairs by the hearth. 
Azriel slowly walked out of the closet, ever the cautious and assessing spymaster as he watched your movements with interest. Once you had taken your seat, he sat in the chair opposite you, hazel eyes burning into your skin as you struggled to focus on the pages in front of you.
“My love, can you tell me what’s wrong?” Az pressed gently, leaning forward with strong arms braced on his knees. 
Forcing yourself to bite back a bitter laugh at the question, you took a deep breath and set the book down. “You really don’t know why I might be upset, Azriel?” At his confused expression, you continued, “It seems as though you have a talent for noticing everything except me.”
Azriel’s eyes simmered with barely constrained anger at your digging comment. “If you would care to stop speaking in riddles and be straightforward with me, that would be much appreciated. I may be observant, but I am not daemati, love. I cannot read your mind.”
Shadows grew darker around Azriel, oscillating with the palpable irritation in the room. But instead of sticking to their master, they moved to join you. Cool whisps of darkness curled around you, giving cool caress to your heated skin as Azriel watched, guilt suddenly registering on his face. He knew that if his shadows were on your side, he was truly in the wrong.
“I’m sorry, angel. Please just tell me what is wrong so I can make it right.”
You relaxed slightly at his apology, tension thinning as you studied your mate’s worried expression. “You are away so often, Az, and I knew that would be the case when I accepted the mating bond. I love you for who you are, and I wouldn’t want to change that. But it’s hard for me when you leave me, and then hardly notice me when you are here.”
Azriel loosed a soft sigh, understanding exactly what you meant. It was a conversation you’d had before, that you sometimes felt second to his spymaster duties. He’d been working hard to show you that that wasn’t true, but coming home from this last mission was too exhausted to notice how much you needed him.
“You don’t understand how much I miss you. I think I need you more than you need me, and I feel pathetic for it, Az,” you admitted.
Azriel’s face fell, the Illyrian leaving his chair only to kneel in front of you, eyes pleading as warm hands rested on your knees. “I need you. Like air, I need you. I don’t know how I lived before you, and I’m sorry that I make you feel anything less than the beautiful, perfect mate that you are.”
You could feel Azriel’s love through the bond, pure adoration and longing sending electric sparks through you, at odds with his warm touch on your thighs, where you hadn’t felt him in so long. 
Suddenly, your face was flushed with a different kind of heat, and Az’s eyes darkened as the scent of your arousal grew. A knowing smirk stretched across his lips, the crooked smile showing off one dimple. 
“You beautiful, cruel female. You like when I’m on my knees for you?” he purred, voice rough as his hands slipped further between your thighs. 
You fought to keep your breaths even, eyes flicking to the chair where Azriel sat moments ago. “My love, I adore when you are on your knees, but I still don’t think you understand how badly I needed you today,” you teased, the sentence taking on a different meaning with your sultry tone that shot straight to Azriel’s cock.
Curling one finger beneath his chin, you lifted in gentle encouragement for him to stand before nodding towards his chair. “Sit, Azriel.”
As though the shadows could read your thoughts, they followed Azriel to the chair, twining around his wrists and ankles. Hazel eyes were blown so wide they appeared black, the scent of your mate’s arousal so strong it was dizzying. 
“I missed you,” you whispered, standing from your seat and dropping your corset in one smooth motion. The fabric was tossed to the side, your hands pulling at the sleeves of your chemise. “I missed your touch, your warmth,” you continued, the remainder of your clothing falling in a pool at your feet.
Azriel’s breathing grew rapid, chest heaving as his hardened cock strained against his pants. “I needed you, but you stayed just out of reach, teasing and taunting me,” you drawled as you relaxed back into your own chair, eyes on Azriel as you hiked one leg over the arm of the seat, baring your glistening pussy to him.
He audibly groaned at the sight, pulling helplessly against his shadows as they stayed secure to the furniture. “Please, my love. Let me take care of you,” he gritted out, eyes glassy with desire.
Humming nonchalantly, you allowed your hands to wander over your body, fingers skating delicate touches over your sensitive areas. “You may take care of me once I think you’ve learned what it feels like to need me, to be truly desperate for my touch,” you replied, flashing him a wild grin as you dipped a finger into your entrance.
Pulling out your finger, you held it up to show off your slick in the firelight, eyes fixed on his reaction when you slipped the digit into your mouth, moaning dramatically as you sucked it clean. Releasing your finger with a ‘pop,’ you slid the wet hand down your body, toying with your nipples before resting above your core.
“This is what I do when you are not here to pleasure me, Azriel,” you breathed, gathering wetness on your fingers as they found your clit, rubbing slow circles there. 
“I use my fingers,” you continued, thrusting two fingers inside of you with a moan, “and I pretend they’re yours. I pretend it’s you, hitting that perfect spot inside of me.” Curling your fingers towards that spot, you moaned Azriel’s name, bucking your hips as you shamelessly chased your high in front of him. 
You heard him grunting and groaning in his seat, his need for you only turning you on more, which he seemed to realize. “Good girl. Move your fingers a little faster, just like that. Can you rub your clit for me?” he breathed, in awe as you obeyed his commands, letting him guide you to your orgasm.
Your eyes flew open as you crashed into your high, body writhing against the sofa when you looked to Azriel, jaw dropping in ecstasy while he watched you with a white knuckle grip against the restraints. 
Breathless, you relaxed into the cushions, a lazy smile on your features. “That is how desperate, how needy I am for you,” you whispered. 
“But it’s never the same. I crave your touch, your love,” you confessed, bare body shining with a thin sheen of sweat as you moved to stand just out of Azriel’s reach. “It’s a delicious torture, this power you have over me - at least when you’re there for me when I need you. Does that make sense?”
Azriel swallowed thickly, hips rolling in any attempt at relief. “Yes, it does. I need you, too, love. To take care of you, to touch you, to love you.” He strained again against his unrelenting shadows, and you smirked at the tendrils of darkness and their loyalty to you. “Let me touch you, please,” his hoarse voice begged.
“Not quite yet, Az. Soon enough,” you promised, moving to straddle his lap, body pressed firm against his. “I want to take advantage of this moment,” you admitted, fingers threading through onyx locks to pull him in for a passionate kiss.
Starting soft and slow, the kiss quickly grew frantic into a clash of teeth and tongues, bodies desperately writhing against each other in search of friction. Your lips left his, trailing down his jaw - kissing, biting, licking the skin along his neck. Hands quickly unbuttoned his shirt, new wetness pooling between your thighs at the sight of his toned chest.
“Fuck,” Azriel gritted out, cock twitching from the feeling of your slick soaking through his pants. You smirked, kissing down his chest until you arrived at the waistband of his pants, kissing along the lines of his muscles there.
“Up,” you murmured, Azriel obeying to lift his hips so you could slide his pants down, his leaking cock hitting his stomach as he groaned in relief. 
Straddling the Illyrian once more, your fingertips brushed teasing strokes along his cock as he cursed and pleaded incoherently. “I love you,” you whispered, rubbing his tip against your folds before sliding down his length, your moans swallowed by his lips on yours.
“Fuck, I love you so much,” he muttered, hips thrusting up to meet you as you bounced on his dick. Rolling your hips forward and back, you felt him hit every inch of you with each thrust. 
The pleasure was too much, legs growing shaky as you grew weak above him. Shadows sensing the shift, they released their master, Azriel wasting no time before grabbing your hips and jackhammering up into you.
Limp, your head feel against his shoulder as you took everything he gave you, nails scratching his back and torso as you hit another orgasm. 
Azriel’s thrusts grew sloppier, his breathing hard in your ear when you felt him twitch inside of you, his warmth filling you up as he came. 
“I missed that,” you muttered, shifting to press a kiss to his shoulder where your head had been resting. 
“Oh, this night is far from over, love,” Azriel purred, hand sliding under your ass as he picked you up and walked to the bed. Tossing you onto the sheets, he quickly grabbed your thighs, warm hands running along the sensitive skin. “I wanted to worship you, and I will until you are begging me to stop,” he growled, shadows twining around your wrists to pull them taut over your head.
A shiver of delight coursed through you, squirming under your mate’s hold as you prepared yourself for a long night. 
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sefinaa · 2 days
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❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐈 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭, 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐚.❞
Who is your future spouse’s role model(s) and why?
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Subliminal channel | Masterlist
Tips | Paid Readings
This is a tarot card reading. I pulled out 2-4 cards for each pile and signs were added.
18+ readings @enchantressiren
Average word count: 810
Pictures I divider
Pile I
King of Wands, the lovers reversed, and the hanged man.
With the king of wands, your future spouse adores and looks up to their father and their grandparents, because they were able to help your future spouse rise above their insecurities, and allow them to express who they are. I hear that the mother was not in the picture. They were not there for them when they needed them, when they were hurting, and if they were there, it wasn’t a loving one. They were neglected harshly and were used like toys. Think of a toxic relationship you see portrayed in the media. Your future spouse feels very comfortable with their grandparents and their father, because they are able to express their childish dreams as well. I hear that other people used to laugh at them when they spoke about the career they wanted. For example, in society, you are expected to work a 9 to 5 job, have a family, have children, etc. But your future spouse has a different idea. It is completely different from making your own business, too. They really want to prioritize helping children find peace in this world because the generation keeps worsening. There are some children who feel extremely stressed out with the expectations of their parents, or there is a struggle about how to express their feelings to other people because people around their age, focus on drugs, or lack empathy. For these kids, your future spouse wants to teach them that it’s okay to be completely different from other people and not to follow along with the crowd at this age, and then it’s good to follow your path and focus on who you truly are. For my card, the king of wands has a male fairy on it with beautiful flowers behind him as he is sitting on a cut mushroom, and there is a beetle on the swirly ground. This is the perfect example of how your future spouse sees the world despite its flaws. I hear my intuition tell me that the beetle is those who follow the path of others, and they do not seek to find who they are, which indicates this swirl is continuous. As for the flowers behind, those who do not follow will blossom into their higher selves, even though they are behind and life to others in general. They know what they seek, what they desire, and eventually they will have what they want. Sitting on the mushroom is standing their ground, and that is the same energy. Which is your future spouse. And because of their grandparents and their father, they were able to incorporate that feeling within the heart to expand it instead of keeping it on guard. And they want to do the same for children because they believe that if they were able to get that blessing in life, they would want to move it forward and give it to others.
Your future spouse is a very grateful person, but they don’t express their kindness in a direct way. They mainly focus on how to show their love and compassion to the world in an anonymous way. So instead of allowing people to redirect that same kindness that they give out, they will make sacrifices and allow people to find them to be shallow, mean, etc. And those closest to your future spouse will actually know how selfless they are, and how loving they are. This is very similar to Medusa in Greek mythology. Because people were afraid of her snake hair and of what happened without hearing her story, they would treat her differently, and many people would fear her. And a lot of people actually fear your future spouse because of their resting face, the way they speak to people, and the way that they are perceived. In terms of kindness, it is pushed aside, because other people perceive them in a low light. And with the reversed lover cards, people sometimes find them to be unhinged, or someone to be completely off the right path. I hear the people around your future spouse are very judgmental, and that they only really prioritize how they feel because a lot of them are very wealthy, but instead of donating to charities and helping other people in their own way, they seek more riches and more riches, and they get lost in the mindset of luxury, and actually forget who they are. And this fits along with how I spoke about those who do not forward their own path, and they just follow along. So your future spouse has made their own path, but at the same time, they don’t really allow the negativity around them to catch up to them or let them sink into it.
Channeled song:
The hanging tree - James Newton Howard
Pile II
Nine of swords, five of pentacles, ten of pentacles reversed, and two of cups.
Your future spouse has a lot of trauma from their grandparents, especially their grandfather. During their childhood, their parents weren’t home due to demanding jobs, but they were taken under the care of their grandparents, and they were getting along with their grandma, but she was killed by a drunk driver. And this caused a hole in their hearts because they were close to her, but the grandfather struggled with her death and would beat them constantly. If they were in pain, then the grandfather wouldn’t feel it, and they would also constantly drink liquor as your future lover was being harmed mentally.
My intuition tells me, that your lover’s role models are their parents. Despite their parents not being there for them with their job, they were and still are understanding of it, and they were able to have their siblings to find happiness and joy with. I hear that they’re adopted, and the grandfather has hatred for them despite their son, who is their father, saying otherwise. Think of the butterfly effect.
Moving on, how are their family's role models? Because when they were struggling with insecurities, hurt, and pain, they were able to express their pain to their parents, and they were heard. Their parents were there for them and didn’t allow their grandfather to ever take care of them again. They even cut ties with him to protect their child. And your lover admires their courage and determination so much that when they want to have children with you, and you will, they will be there to help and support them, even if it means cutting ties with family.
With the two cups, it’s about unity, partnership, and connection. Your future spouse has a sense of peace and happiness and a special connection with their role models. They can still come to them when they’re struggling with their issues or when they want to be heard as they ramble on about anything that makes them happy. And instead of being told they are useless or worthless like their grandfather, they are told how creative and unique they are by their family and friends.. and now because of you. When you both meet, the two of cups will amplify a personal connection and a sense of unity. You will be the missing piece of their puzzle and their happiness to keep moving and find more connections that they were afraid to seek despite the moral support they had. My tarot card for the two of cups has two merpeople who are reaching for some type of trophy without any envy or anger. They both have vines around them for protection and secretion. There is a broken building behind them in the water, and there are some marine animals like a stingray, fishes, a crab and a starfish. My intuition tells me that this is both of you. You guys will be each other's lights as you both reach for your goals without having to sacrifice anything because you are connected and are the same. The marine animals are connected to your children; perhaps they will want to focus their lives on marine animals, like them, have a favorite stuffed animal about them, or be engrossed in them for fun. Perhaps you will read a bedtime story about them. And when you do see it again, this pile will come to you again. As for the broken building, my intuition tells me that it’s the both of you letting go of the hardships that you have dealt with, moving forward into the light, and seeking your desired life. Despite the building being broken, the merpeople don’t seem bothered, and that’s the same with both of you. You both are at peace with your past and have moved on from it. As the saying goes, “what happened in the past stays in the past.” And you both have lived by the saying for a long time. The vines indicate people from your past trying to grab you into their lives, bringing you to be like them. You already know they are on the right path and that being stuck in the path won’t help you achieve your dreams, so instead of stalling or allowing them to come back, you keep moving forward because you know that’s what you want and so does your future spouse.
Signs:
Marine biology, astrophysics, fishes, marine, starfish, fireflies, bunny, rascals, money and flesh, “see? It’s funny!”, “trick ya!”, moon, walking, and flowers
Pile III
Eight of pentacles and three of pentacles
Right off the bat, your future spouse literally looks up to you as their own role model or worships you in a non-obsessive way. You have the energy of a powerful communicator, helping people grow and create with a lack of resources. My intuition tells me you are able to be creative with other people, and you’re able to help them strive for a better life while not having the same resources you had in your childhood. You have gone through a lot of obstacles in your life, but instead of allowing them to become attached to your soul, you make the most of them, and I hear that you have a special connection to stars and the solar planet, especially Neptune, Uranus, Saturn, and Pluto. Of course, they don’t say that Pluto is a planet, but it is completely different for you. And some of you guys are into astrology, and others are into astronomy, either way, the planets and the stars are connected, and for you, it is your safe spot and your comfort. Your future spouse is aware of this, and they do things to support you and give you the resources to be creative that you never had before. Because you like to help people grow and help them achieve their dreams, you have this security that you can give other people, especially your future spouse. And you are able to communicate with other people, and they look up to you like a motivational speaker who is very honest, and because you have this love that you get from other people, it increases your vibration and gives you more prosperity in your life. And your future spouse sees that you are able to do things without thinking, but it is not a negative trait. It’s more like a blessing because you do some things spontaneously but you plan them out—my intuition tells me it is from your inner heart and your inner desire unconsciously to help guide these people, and you do it without thinking because this is what you truly want and your future spouse can see that. You have become the right person for them, but someone to strive forward and be similar to you, but not in a way that destroys their personality. With the eight of pentacles, my intuition tells me you strive for greater good, but despite all these good qualities, you have high standards for yourself. But for some reason, you’re able to use these high standards to achieve your ambitious goals without allowing them to affect your subconscious mind and make you overthink and lose focus on what you’re looking for. It’s a great balance with yourself, and it’s very admirable. You like to praise yourself and you like to do the same thing with other people, and this helps increase your vibration as well with other people because they are becoming influenced by you with your loving energy, which is why you are like a role model to other people, especially your future spouse.
On my tarot card for the three of pentacles, the drawing shows an elf who is an older man who is using a big paintbrush to paint on paper, and he is using little resources to make stars, while there is a candle next to him and buttons behind him with a rolled-up sew inserted into a pin needle. My intuition tells me you are the hard-working elf that is trying to make stars on the paper, even though there are some smudges, but he keeps going. This is your energy. He keeps driving forward for what he desires, even though there are struggles in his daily life. And the three buttons I see, my intuition tells me, “there are small pebbles in our lives that are hard to find, and these pebbles may look like misfits, but in reality, they are our desire.” So this quote means the thing that we desire, and the things that we want may have benefited us in finding our desired life, and the small things that look useless and that we do not want are the actual things that will lead us to our goal. So when you have a struggle in your life and you get something that makes you feel sad, remember that it is there to help you have the right mindset to manifest your desired reality.
I finished writing this at 5:55 PM. 555 is focused on good changes, our lives, and freedom. I am channeling that you’re going to have two favorable opportunities in your life to help you grow further into the person you desire, while at the same time giving you a better chance to meet your future spouse. I spoke about how there’s a lot of growth in your pile, and my intuition says the same thing with 555. It also focuses on our mental and physical growth and how we interact with other people, so keep in mind to go with the flow, focus on your happiness, and not worry about what other people think about you because you are worthy of all the good things in the world. 
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mxtantrights · 1 day
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Hello there, ‘tis I again! Soo happy you enjoyed the boxer!jason request!! I know, i love him too :)))
Today i bring forth another boxer!Jason ask, maybe you introduce him to your friends and they can’t see past the fact he kinda looks like a brute (even tho he’s such a big softie, i truly believe this man reads romeo and Juliet while waiting to get on the ring), and so at the end of the night he’s feeling insecure cause he could see how your friends looked at him and he starts wondering if they are right and you deserve someone who’s softer and more approachable. And obviously reader shows him just how amazing he is!!
Today i yearn for some good hurt/comfort, if you couldn’t tell lol
Hope you have fun writing this one!! Marvellous works 🩷🩷
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Everything goes right before the two of you get there. Thats how Jason knows something is gonna go wrong at this hang out. You told him all week that if he felt like not going, you could cancel. But he didn't want it to seem like he was blowing your friends off. So he trudged through.
He trudged through and is sitting side by side with you in a booth. And three of your friends are crowded into the other side of it. They've had a couple of drinks before you came. You weren't really in the mood to play catch up so you stick to your one while Jason goes dry because he's driving.
They have conversations about the recent news, the latest gossip, and then they ask about your life. Particularly your life with Jason. You start gushing about him, as if he isn't there, and tell them about how you met and how he treats you.
"This guy? This six foot tall, three hundred pounded brick wall?" one of them asks.
You scoff, "How he looks has nothing to do with how he treats me."
"Yeah, but doesn't he-don't you box?" another one of them asks him.
Jason clears his throat and sits up straight. But you notice it. You notice how he is trying to make himself smaller. He did it at the very beginning of your relationship, to make you less scared. You talked to him about it when the two of you got closer, and you haven't seen him do it since. Until now.
"I'm a boxer, yes. But I don't bring any of that home with me." Jason answers.
"Isn't it hard though? When you're angry? I mean who's to say you won't-" the third friend starts.
Hell. This has to stop.
"Enough." you speak.
They all look at you, at a loss for words. While it's true the four of you grew up looking like people who were afraid to tell others no, and looked like doormats, you were far from that person. Those days are over.
"I'm not gonna let you speak to him like that. He has been nothing but kind and open with me, and not that it's any of your business, but he has never laid his hands on me, or raised his voice." you say.
Then you're getting up from the booth, holding your hand out for Jason. He looks between you and your friends and then he's getting up from his seat. He takes your hand in his.
"He's my boyfriend. I want him in my life and I wanna be a part of his. So either you get that or you get lost." You put finally.
You turn around and walk right out the door with Jason. Jason who hasn't said a word yet. Jason who is holding onto your hand in a way that tells you he's not completely paying attention.
When the two of you cross the threshold of the doors, you squeeze his hand.
"Baby?" you ask him.
Jason looks at you then. Like everything is coming back into focus for him. He has a sad smile on his face.
"I'm sorry." He says.
"Don't ever be sorry for being you. If my so called 'friends' couldn't see past what you look like and what you do for a living then they don't need to be my friends." you explain to him.
Jason shakes his head, "You've known them longer than me. It's not fair that-"
"Jason Todd, I am not willing to give you up. For anyone. Ever. You got that?"
Jason lets out a small sigh. "Okay."
You let go of his hand to hold out your arms. He pouts a bit before stepping closer to you and wrapping his arms around you completely. You nuzzle into him more.
"I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you. I hope you know that." you add on.
"Yeah?" he asks.
"I swear it." you answer.
a/n: thank you so so much for sending this in! <333 I love some good hurt/comfort too!! I hope you like it!!
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ktaerssoi · 2 days
Text
cheering for us
summary: cheering through an oddly hard game for kate.
kate martin x cheerleader!reader
(619)
as soon as first quarter had started you saw kate falter a little, something was off today. she was playing well, yes, but not nearly as well as usual. not only had kate herself realized, but the coaches and commentators as well.
you could tell she was overthinking in her head, she had tried to block someone but ended up almost tripping instead. you knew she wasn't going to have fun talking to the coaches, and really wanted nothing more then to just talk to her and let her know that this game doesn't define her career.
-
at halftime you and the cheer team were to do a routine you guys had been practicing, and you guys had done it quite successfully. Iowa was down by 7, but after the little performance spirit seemed to be high.
before you returned to you spot by the side of the court you had an opportunity to talk to kate. "hey, k, you're doing good okay? this game isn't the end of the world anyway, just relax okay?" she nodded at your words and tried to shake out some tension as she watched you walk away
-
the game had ended with Iowa winning by 12 points, kate scored a 3-pointer in the fourth quarter. you guys were on your way back to your guys' apartment when she brought up her early performance.
"y/n you have to admit i wasn't doing good in the first half," she turned to you for a second, before quickly focusing back on the road. "kate im not going to lie to you and tell you were doing bad." you shook your head, a smile on your face as your arm rested on the inside of the car door.
"but you wouldn't be lying!" kate was smiling, her mood had improved from half time, clearly. "okay well even if you were doing bad, what do you think caused it? reflect on that if you really want to improve."
"so you do think i could improve!" she rolls her eyes as we pull into the complex building's car park. "but i think it was probably you and that other girl on the cheerleading team." you narrow your eyes, confused what she meant.
"what other girl?" you asked as you guys rounded the back of the car to grab your bags from the trunk and bring your stuff upstairs. "the one with the blonde hair, you were like, dying laughing at something she said. i was jealous." she shrugged, and you were a little stunned.
"kate, babe, that girl was telling me about some story about her boyfriend. trust me we are not like that." you smile a little as the tips of her ears go red with embarrassment. "oh,"
-
the two of you were on the couch watching some sports thing, your head resting on kate's shoulder as you read a book.
a commercial break comes on, and kate lets out a little sigh, shifting under you. "can we talk about how good that halftime routine was? seriously, you looked so good babe." you smiled a little, trying to hide your flustered state.
you put you book down, moving over even more, trying to get as close as possible. "you looked pretty good out there two k, i mean seriously, i was struggling to focus." you smirked as you saw her face goes pinkish again, you sit up a little, kissing her cheek quickly.
"you seriously need to get a headband or something, those flyaways are not flattering." you smile, leaning back as you listen to kate's defense for why she can't wear a headband for the 37th time.
"it messes up the look"
okay caht its offical, i hate everything i write and im quitting 🥰🥰 jk i wish..actually though i suck at writing for requests like this is actually SO FLIPPING BAD IM SOBBING. its also 3pm and the brownies r bomb. anyway, not proofreade dont come for me! also this was weird to write because my name is - kate (see what i did?)
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dazednmatthews · 7 hours
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hey hot stuff i’m feeling the need to be self indulgent (feel free to ignore me LOL) but a matt headcanon with his gf in the middle of exams? late night study sesh and such🥹 i love you
- mads 🪽(@hollandsangel)
bf!matt x stressed college gf headcanons
sorry this took so long!! i had a… hectic day to say the least. i hope this does ur request justice 🫶🏾 i love u bad
-matt is the type of bf to never ever want to see you stressed
-he’s gonna do whatever he possibly can to take the pressure off your shoulders
-so when exam season comes up and you start to get kind of distant because you’re so stressed, this mf is the most attentive, doting man ever
-“i’m just so stressed. my bio exam is in three days and my english lit exam is in 5 and i have to do so many chores and pick up this stupid cake for my mom—”
-“go to the library and study. give me the time and place to pick up the cake and i’ll use my key to get into your apartment. don’t worry about a thing, sweetheart.”
-he would respect your space when you needed it and when you wanted to study alone
-“i wanna see you matt but i really need to memorize this chapter tonight. i can’t, i’m sorry.”
-“it’s okay, baby. i understand, school comes first right now.”
-you love him so much for that cause he never makes you or lets you feel guilty for the lack of time together
-he definitely brings you your favorite snacks, water, and meals to the library when you stay late
-“i’m not staying, i know you need to focus. but i also know you haven’t eaten today and i can’t have that.”
-when you do want company, he is hands down the best study partner
-he will deadass read the chapters you have memorize just to make sure he can quiz you
-helps you make color coded flash cards
-“it means… fuck i can never fucking remember this one.” you’re chewing on your pen cap racking your brain for the definition of a chapter concept you know you know. you can feel the slight hysteria building as matt sits patiently, gentle eyes pleading with you to go easy on yourself. “i’m never gonna fucking pass.”
-matt puts down the flash cards, careful not to mess up the order. he comes around to the side of his bed that you’re on, squatting down between your open legs. he’s rubbing his thumb in circles on your thighs with one hand as he removes your head from your hands with his other. “you are the smartest and most capable person i know. you have been working your ass off for this. you need to give yourself some more credit, sweetheart. cause i have no doubt you can do it.” he swipes at the frustrated tears pooling in your eyes and gives you the most honey sweet smile you’ve ever seen.
-you tend to overwork yourself a lot so he insists on breaks every couple hours
-you almost always protest in favor of getting as much work done as possible but he always wins the argument
-“baby, i can’t take another break. i’m so behind. i haven’t even done half of what i wanted to!”
-“last break we took was four hours ago y/n. you’re going to drive yourself crazy if you don’t give yourself some time to relax.”
-he takes you to get food or even just a short drive listening to the playlist you guys made together, talking and laughing about anything other than school
-sometimes you sit in the living room w all the triplets and watch them argue about something hilarious
-he’s always right and it always works
-when you finally finish reviewing all the material you needed to, you flop down on his bed with a heavy sigh
-“i’m so fucking happy i finished on time.”
-“i knew you would. you’re gonna fucking ace it tomorrow.”
-“yeah i hope. i had the best study partner in the world.”
-you spend the night before your exams in his extremely soft bed and his extremely serene arms, him kissing away the nerves that threaten to choke you. every so often he’ll whisper sweet nothings of how good you’re gonna do, how proud of you he is and how smart you are, making your heart swell.
-the day of your exams you wake up to the sweetest note with a smoothie made (he didn’t go to bed until like 7am that morning anyway)
-“you’ve got this, baby! you’re gonna fucking kill it. take your time and trust yourself. i love you -m”
-you feel on top of the world knowing the most amazing man you’ve ever met believes in you so much
-after your exams are done, you wait until you’re back at his house to view your scores online
-“you ready?” matt says, looking at you with nothing but love and light.
-“no, but fuck it. lets get this over with.”
-you of course get the best scores imaginable
-you celebrate like you won the fucking lottery, jumping in his arms and shrieking in hysterical delight
-he is just as, maybe even more excited
-“that’s my fucking girl! i knew you could do it.”
-and he spends the entire night showing you just how proud of you he really is
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Rehearsing - Todd Anderson / Neil Perry
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Description: It's raining, Todd is almost falling asleep, and Neil is reading his lines for his next play for the millionth time. [Fluff, 600 words]
It's canon that Todd helps Neil with practicing for his plays, so I wanted to write one these times in a warm/soft vibe. Wrote this one purely for comfort. Might write more fics like this. Just small moments of their lifes y'know. Feel free to make requests if you have any idea. Anyway, hope you enjoy it <3
Neil was rehearsing lines for his next play, again.
Todd could swear he knew all those lines back and forth by now. He didn't complain though, it was always nice to help with rehearsing. There was something special in seeing Neil this genuinely happy and excited with something. His happiness was contagious in a way.
"Parting is such a sweet sorrow..." He stamped his feet on the floor as he read the lines, something he always did whenever he was too excited or anxious.
"...that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow" Todd completed in his head, without saying anything. Sometimes, he would help by saying another's character's lines, so Neil could practice dialogues how they are. But for the most part, his "helping" was pretty much just keeping him company, listening to the lines and correcting him if needed.
If it wasn't raining, they would've done this outside. Next to the lake, probably. It's where they usually go. Not that it was all that bad staying inside for once. Todd was tired and their room could be small, but it could also be very cozy. The sound of the rain, slightly muffled by the window, just added to the feeling.
The clock showed 11:02. "It's not that late" Todd thought as he yawned, "There's still time to rehearse this scene at least five more times".
Outside it was already very dark, and the rain made it even harder to see anything. Todd watched as the drops of water on the window fell. Hugging his knees and leaned against the wall as he listened to Romeo and Juliet attentively, as if he hadn't already millions of times.
"Todd?"
"Hm?" He looked at his friend. His eyes obviously sleepy, while Neil's were wide awake.
"We can do this tomorrow if you're too tired," He suggested.
"No, there's no need to"
"You look like you'll fall asleep any second now" That was probably true. "I'm sure I can manage on my own"
"I know you can," Todd laid down, keeping his eyes open. He wasn't quite sure why he cared so much. He could simply go to sleep and let Neil keep practicing on his own, but for some reason he wanted to be awake with him. Everything felt so nice to just sleep it through.
Neil looked at him for a few moments, then got up from the desk he was sitting at. "Move over"
Todd sat up with a groan, giving space for Neil to sit next to him. After that, Neil lightly pulled him down, so Todd's head was laying on his lap.
"Hm?" His tone could be interpreted as either confusion or exhaustion. Or both of them.
"Sleep. I'll keep rehearsing" Neil said softly. And he did go back to what he was doing, repeating the lines quieter this time.
Todd took a few moments to process what he said and how comfortable he was. He let out a content sigh as he gave in to the tiredness.
He took one last glance at the actor close to him before closing his eyes. Neil's smile was so bright and Todd couldn't help but smile too as he tried to focus on Romeo and Juliet coming from the sweetest voice he had ever heard. The warm atmosphere making him even more comfortable and everything simply felt a bit better.
And as Neil's hands gently stroked his hair, soothing him, Todd started to fall asleep.
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dairy-farmer · 2 days
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After reading that clarktim babysitter ask, all I could focus on was 1. they didn't use protection and 2. Tim came like three times and is at the perfect age for fertilization
Tim likely has had his period for a few months before he and Clark start this "relationship" of theirs, and it probably doesn't occur to either of them that they should use protection. But then Tim ends up pregnant and Bruce or Jack or whoever Tim is living with in Gotham kicks him out, and Clark is a good man, right? An upstanding one, even if you don't know he's Superman. So he takes in his homeless, pregnant babysitter, and no one thinks anything of it
Not even when Clark, who just got his new work from home position at the Daily Planet, offers to adopt Tim's baby, that way he can still be around them as they grow up. Tim agrees and honestly no one bats an eye (everyone is either too busy, doesn't care, or genuinely doesn't notice anything)
For the duration of his pregnancy, Tim is fucked as often as he wants and needs, and Clark is obsessed with his knocked up teenage babysitter who is so heavy with Clark's baby
And everyone knows the statistics, right? That teen parents are more likely to have a second child while still in their teens? So no one is surprised when Tim shows his true slutty colors and winds up knocked up only four or five months after giving birth. And he and Clark have the same deal, bc Clark makes more than enough, has a stay at home job, and has always wanted a big family. So Tim continues living there, swells up nice and big with a second baby, and raises his first baby and Jon as best he can while keeping Clark satisfied however he needs
(it isn't until Tim's 16th birthday rolls around and instead of getting a car he gets a positive pregnancy test that anyone starts to get suspicious, and by the time anyone can think to voice anything against these arrangements, Tim is an emancipated minor and lives in a state where the age of consent is 16. So there's nothing anyone can do, and nothing to stop Tim from popping out more babies for Clark to "adopt" that Tim gets to spend all his time "babysitting")
😍😍😍😍yessss!!! tim has felt even more distant from bruce because it felt like bruce was steadily phasing him out of the robin role (bruce was but he honestly thougth he was doing what was best for tim) and tim's estrangement with his dad hasn't improved.
so is it really a surprise when jack kicks tim out for being pregnant after a visit to the pediatrician explained why tim had been feeling all kinds of ill? and, well, this is news to tim, because he'd never had a pregnancy scare before (even though this isn't much of a scare). tim has been hooking up with other kids his age since summer camp so him turning out to actually be pregnant is as much a shock to him as it is his dad.
tim barely has enough time to pack a bag before his dad is throwing him out to the curb.
and tim, suddenly homeless and hopelessly knocked up, needs help. and in a different world where he and bruce were closer he may have run towards the manor. but in this universe tim only feels safe with one adult who has always been considerate and kind towards him.
even when clark finds out he knocked tim up, tim is sure that he'll still help because that's the kind of person that clark is. so with the bit of change he manages to fish out of a pocket in his backpack tim tracks down a payphone and calls the number that always picks up no matter if it's an unknown number or something the caller id clearly marks as 'spam'.
clark is in the city ready to pick him up within the hour while tim sits at a corner booth at a batburger picking at some fries. tim had wanted to wait to tell clark, not ready to say it over the phone and also not feeling it appropriate. but then clark bursts in through the front doors looking around before spotting tim and tim can recognize the look on his face when clark begins using his x-ray vision to scan him for injuries.
so tim can tell when he sees...it.
it must be that he sees the cells in tim, multiplying and building into a bigger clump that will eventually be a baby. it must be. that must be why clark just freezes up and stops dead as he's taking a step towards tim.
clark is the only one that tim trusts. bruce has always had tim balancing and navigating the minefield of his emotions but clark is the only one who has...been nice to tim. and maybe that's a big part of the reason why tim had started having sex with him. unlike with the boys from camp tim hadn't done it because he was bored or because he wanted a favor or because he wanted clark's share of dessert. tim had started sleeping with clark because...he'd wanted to.
but now tim has gone and screwed that up by being stupid and getting pregnant and now he could get clark in a lot of trouble if anyone found out and from the white and frightened look on clark's face it seemed he was also realizing the situation they were in.
but its not like tim was an outlier. statistically speaking many of the fathers to the babies of teen mothers were over the age of twenty so it's not like tim was the first stupid teenager to spread their legs for an adult. but...unlike other people clark had more to lose if it got found out. he could lose his job, lose respect of the league and colleagues, he could lose custody of jon if lois got mad at him for knocking tim up.
maybe if tim were a better person he would've...dealt with this himself and clark would've been none the wiser but...but tim had gotten scared and calling clark had been his first instinct.
it takes a moment but clark continues approaching him. he's slow, hesitant, he sits down carefully and continues staring at tim like an alien has just ripped out of his chest.
tim keeps his head down and tries to think of a million ways to apologize for doing this to him. only for clark to speak first, his voice choked up and broken as he whispers "tim, i'm so sorry."
clark looks near tears staring at tim. poor pregnant, teenage slut tim who has just been kicked out by his dad.
his eyes dart from tim's face, to his backpack, to his flat little stomach that hasn't even begun to blossom with a single sign of life.
its hard few hours. tim hadn't been sure what calling clark would achieve, he'd even started regretting it as he waited but with no other options...
clark spends the entire time after he arrives trying to convince tim to come home with him, to come to metropolis, that tim could finish school there, he could live in the spare room- it was pretty much his anyway. tim tries desperately to resist, to find any excuse to not go and risk ruining clark's life even further. but it's hard. it's hard because he wants to go with clark so desperately. clark hasn't touched him once since that night he stumbled back to the apartment drunk out of his mind but that doesn't mean tim hasn't dreamed of it, imagined clark coming into his room again. tim has quietly masturbated in the spare room while clark was down the hall, knowing he could hear the wet squelches of tim's achingly empty cunt. tim has started arriving at clark's apartment for his babysitting gig braless, knowing clark could see through his shirt so easily and making it easier.
god. tim had acted like such a...slut. no wonder he ended up getting pregnant. no wonder he got himself in this situation.
but clark....clark is still so nice to him. even though tim has done this to him. and tim...he's already been so selfish so what's a little more.
tim agrees to move in with clark, to allow clark to take him in.
and clark is so relieved tim agrees, he hugs him close, wrapping him up in his bear arms and softly kissing the top of his head before leading him to the car.
by the time they set out on the road to head back to metropolis the last connecting ferry has already departed and so clark is stuck taking the long way and driving the two of them across the metro narrows bridge. it's a long drive and the two of them talk about little things to ignore the growing tension. tim asks where jon is and clark tells him about how he befriended an elderly downstairs neighbor who also got their groceries delivered and they'd offered to watch jon for a few hours while he ran out for his emergency. that emergency being tim. tim asks if clark has eaten anything, if he's had a breather at all since tim called him. clark insists he has but tim keeps poking until he rests a hand on clark's thigh.
then they're pulling to the side of the road in some wooded patch that hides them completely once clark turns the car lights off. tim barely waits for them to stop before he's leaping across the center console and meeting clark in a kiss. clark whose hands desperately pull at tim's clothes, tugging and lifting them off while pulling tim closer until tim is straddling his lap and getting a cock pushed into him while he gasps and whines into clark's mouth. it's rough, it's dirty, and desperate. it even hurts a little but tim doesn't care, not allowing clark to tug him off and just grinding and rutting against him until clark is hissing and gripping his hips tights as ribbon after ribbon of hot cum shoots into him.
tim's already knocked up so what does it matter if clark cums inside him again?
and he does. it takes a few times before the two of them are able to get their heads on straight again. tim flops back into the passenger seat, his jean skirt tugged back down into place and his little cotton panties in a bunch somewhere on the floor between them. tim's pussy is hot and pulsing with a deep ache. occasionally his insides clench and it takes everything tim has to stay tight and not let any of clark's release flow out and stain the seats.
the drive back to clark's apartment is easier. tim hugs a happy and excited jon closely and clark earnestly thanks his neighbor.
he and clark have a late dinner with one of tim's frozen meals and then tim puts jon to bed.
he waits for clark in his new room, not even bothering with pajamas. he waits until jon has presumably fallen asleep for clark to come in. he knows he'd advised clark against this. against doing anything while jon was home but...this had to be a special exception.
clark is careful. he climbs into bed with tim, reverently stroking his naked sides and quietly sliding off his boxers. this time clark is a lot softer, sinking into tim's worn cunt easier. his large hands touch tim's hips, his breast, his neck and the side of his mouth while kissing him. one of clark's hands press over tim's womb, fingers stroking over it as he sped up and fucked tim deeper. tim tried his best to keep quiet, arching into every touch and whining softly when clark held him close.
he and clark are in an impossibly difficult position and they're making it worse by continuing to do this. tim is digging clark's hole deeper by having agreed to come live with him.
but the consequences of their actions seem so far away and tim can't find it in himself to care as he cums on clark's cock.
a few days later bruce calls him. he probably realized something was up when tim failed to turn up to the cave. and tim, after a moment of hesitation. tells him...some of the truth.
about his dad kicking him out, about him being pregnant, and about clark taking him in.
bruce is tougher to convince. but in the end tim thinks its a good thing. bruce never got attached to him. it makes it easier for him to let tim go.
bruce still calls to check up though and he sends a rather generous gift of baby supplies and furniture once tim is further along.
tim's fears over clark never end up coming to fruition. turns out clark taking in a homeless pregnant teenager and adopting their baby is just the sort of thing people expect out of him.
tim had worried about jon's reaction but it turns out he's very excited at the prospect of being a big brother. and as nice as clark's apartment may be it would still be a bit limited for space. so they begin looking elsewhere. with clark's salary of being a very accomplished reporter and that lawyer bruce had gotten to sue jack drake for child support given his abandonment- it seems like a doable dream. plus, tim is suspecting clark wants them to leave before the downstairs neighbor grows more suspicious since they're home during the day and might have overheard tim and clark...together.
in the end things turn out nicely for tim. he gives birth to a sweet baby just as they move into a homey little house just on the outskirts of metropolis. jon is adjusting well to the move, clark is more at ease in the countryside suburbs, and tim picks up on motherhood quickly. babies are simple if needy little things and tim has balanced more difficult cases while doing labs for batman. so tim somehow manages to end up with free time on his hands while caring for a newborn.
naturally clark also has gaps in his schedule and his affection for tim hasn't waned at all during tim's pregnancy so...
barely a few months post partum tim is knocked up again.
a year later he's nursing another newborn while watching clark chase down a relatively speedy one year old. when they both go down for their naps and there's still another hour before the bus drops off jonathon well....
by tim's third child things start coming back to bite them. lois returns back to metropolis for a brief visit before setting off on another trip. jon happily introduces her to his younger siblings while tim is washing dishes, lightly leaning against the counter with his pregnant belly.
and lois's eyes...linger on the babies. they're beautiful little things but they also...look so much like jon when he was a baby. lois knows clark has taken the children of the former robin in along with robin himself and she knows what a noble thing that was. and she doesn't want to think anything of it but...clark had strong genes. that much was obvious from the resemblance of her first and only child.
but...for clark's "adopted" children to also resemble him it's...
lois cuts the thought off. because how preposterous. tim was barely sixteen and onto his third pregnancy and clark? clark would never. the thought wouldn't even occur to him (even though a little voice in lois's head whispered to her about how badly clark had wanted a big family, how he'd begged lois for more children after jon but she'd drawn the line and said 'no').
for clark and tim the grace period ends and...questions start getting made. but by that point clark has resolved to see this through to the end with tim no matter what happens. and tim has contented himself with his emancipation papers and the fact that even if found out he was 16 now and free to live with and have babies with anyone he wanted. and no one could do anything about that.
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bullet-prooflove · 2 days
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Trying!Series Part Four: Two Months - Will Trent x Reader
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Tagging: @yezzyyae @words-and-seeds @trublu2u @cassiopeiablog @kmc1989
Trying!Series:
Part One: Notions - Seeing you with a baby opens Will up to a future he never contemplated.
Part Two: Trying - You and Will struggle to give each other what you really want, causing friction in the relationship.
Part Three: Thirty Days - Your plans to start a family with Will are put on hold when he goes undercover as Bill Black.
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It’s two more months before Will comes home. That’s how long it takes for him to unravel CK’s real identity and disband her operation. He doesn’t see you throughout that time, it’s too dangerous. He’d learned the morning after you’d slipped out that CK had gotten word he’d taken a working girl to bed. It’s then he realises how closely he was being watched. There’s no phone calls or visits after that.
The night you spent together; it sustains him. He lies in bed reliving it over and over again until it’s etched into his memory.
He's exhausted when he steps over the threshold, both physically and emotionally. This whole case has taken a toll on him, but the last couple of days have been the most harrowing. He’d barely escaped the apartment complex with his life, he’s lucky that he’d made some strong connections in his time undercover, or he might not have made it back at all.
You’re sitting on the couch reading, Betty curled up in your lap when he closes the door behind him. He looks at the two of you and something in his heart just settles because finally he’s back where he’s supposed to be.
He’s still a little quiet, a little withdrawn. It’s hard for him making the adjustment from Bill Black to Will Trent. He’s spent the past two months guarded, closed off.
You undress him in the bathroom, your hands light and gentle as you undo the buttons of his shirt. When he steps underneath the spray, he feels the tension beginning to unfurl from his muscles as your careful hands smooth shower foam over his tired form. His forehead comes to rest against yours, his eyes closing as the water flows over his body.
“I missed you so much.” He whispers. “I didn’t mean to be away for so long.”
“I know.” You tell him, your thumb chasing over the line of his jaw. “It’s ok.”
He doesn’t realise how much he needs to hear that until the words leave your lips. Before he left the two of you were trying for a baby, undergoing fertility testing, discussing options if you couldn’t start a family the traditional way. This case had derailed all of that, you’d been forced to put your life on hold, your dreams.
He stays in the shower for a long time after you leave to cook dinner, letting the water rinse away all traces of Bill Black. There were things he had to do undercover that he isn’t proud of, it takes him a while to erase the feel of Rosa from his skin. It went no further than kissing and a little light petting on her behalf but still it weighs on him. He knows it means nothing, that you’ll give him that look and remind him of the time you’d had to do something similar but still he hates it.
It's when he’s throwing away the empty toothpaste tube that he spots the pregnancy test sticking out of the bin. He picks it up, his eyebrows furrowing as he studies the device intently. He may struggle with reading but by now he knows what that little blue cross means. He’d spent months praying for it before he went undercover.
When he steps into the kitchen your focus is on the pasta dish you’re preparing. He notices you’re using wholemeal instead of the regular stuff, that you’ve added more veggies to the recipe. His arms wrap around you as he buries his face into the curve of your neck, his lips brushing over the hinge of your jaw. His palms come to rest on your abdomen.
“When were you going to tell me, sugar?” He murmurs into your ear.
The left side of your mouth quirks up into a smile as you lean back against his chest.
“Tomorrow.” You tell him, your fingers threading with his. “I thought I’d give you tonight to decompress.”
“Oh darlin. Something like this, I wanna know about it straight away.” He murmurs into your ear as his thumb chases over space where his baby resides. “You’ve made the happiest man alive you know that?”
“I think you had a little something to do with it.” You tease, your palm smoothing over your stomach, and he chuckles into the hollow of your throat because the sense of elation he feels right now, he’s never felt anything like it.
“I can’t believe we made a baby, sugar.” He whispers as he cradles you close. “The two of us we made a baby.”
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girlscience · 3 months
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i genuinely think fanfic might be ruining my life
#when i say all i do all day is read fic it's not a joke and i'm starting to think it is actually bad for me#it gets in the way of quite literally everything else in my life#it is what i use to deal with any emotion outside of generally happy or vague nothingness#i read it first thing when i wake up i read until the last second i have to get out of bed#i read all day at work and then read all night until my eyes hurt and i have to go to sleep#it makes up 90% of what i think about every single day#it is a huge chunk of what i talk about with other people cause it's all my thoughts#i can't make myself stop reading it#like i actually start going through withdraw or something#it gets hard to think and i can't focus and i can't sit still and i feel so so bored#and it feels like nothing else matters#i used to read science magazines for fun and now i can't even get through one article without feeling like i'm dying#there is some crazy good fic out there but most of what i read is like... the tik tok of stories#it's like the short form version of a book#it is taking over my life (i say that like this hasn't been true for probably a decade at this point)#but i literally don't know how to fix it#i can delete my ao3 but you can read without an account#i guess i could go wholesale and delete the internet off my phone#but i need that for so many other things#i straight up don't know what to do#i might actually need help. like i think i might be addicted the way some people are to social media
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msgexymunson · 5 months
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Soft Touches
Description: you and your dealer Eddie get a little closer than anticipated.
Warnings: acquaintances to lovers, reader is AFAB, weed smoking (both parties so no real dub con), fem oral receiving, praise kink, p in v unprotected sex.
A/N: It's my birthday! And I'm high, and horny, so happy birthday! If you've read my work you KNOW I'm a sucker for the first time y/n fucks Eddie. When I'm a benevolent dictator it shall be a universal holiday ;)
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“Eddie, what the hell was in that?” 
Floating in a cloud of your high, the entire room seemed to glow in pink and orange, senses tinged in a sunset glow. You were definitely stoned out of your tree if you were comparing Eddie's stuffy, cramped room to a breath-taking sunset. 
“It's a new strain I got from Rick. You feeling it?” 
“Oh, I'm feeling it alright. I can hear colours.” 
Eddie's rich laugh echoed off the walls of his trailer. He laid on the bed casually, one arm slung beneath his head making his tight t-shirt ride up slightly. Just a peek of his happy trail was on display, which you tried, and failed, not to stare at. 
It was proving difficult, especially since you sat criss-cross apple sauce on his floor. His body was eye level, handcuff belt shining softly in the low light. The glint of that drew your eyes even lower, concentrating on the bulge you could see in his jeans.
You thought you were being sneaky. You absolutely were not. 
“Hey, sweetheart, you gonna answer me or just stare at my dick?” 
“Huh?” 
Shaking your head as if to clear it, you finally met his gaze. 
“I said, you can come lay up here if you want.” 
Halfway between getting up and still in a weird little crouch his words finally filtered through your addled brain. 
“I wasn't staring at your dick!” 
“Whatever you say, baby girl.” 
Frozen, mind empty of comebacks, you clambered out of your goblin stance and stood up, when the blood decided to rush to your head. 
“Oh Holy shit.” 
Your knees buckled, and you would have ended up face first on Eddie's carpet if he hadn't caught you. 
“Easy there, I've got you.” 
Eddie's firm hands held your upper arms tightly as he manoeuvred you to sit on his bed. The room was spinning, everything was drifting out of focus. 
“I need to lie down.” 
Eddie pulled you towards his pillows and laid you down gently, picking your legs up and settling them on the bed with you. Staring up at his off white ceiling, things began to drift back in. Once the room finally stopped swooping around in your vision, you started to come to your senses. 
You are on Eddie Munson's bed. You knew him, sure, only in a ‘can I come round so you can smoke us out and listen to music’ kind of way. You'd hardly call him a friend. This though, feeling the heat of his body next to you, him leaning on his side staring at you worriedly seemed entirely outside of your current arrangement. 
Suddenly the air was stifling, Eddie's warmth only exacerbating the matter. 
“You alright?” 
“Yeah, just really warm. And fucking high.” 
Eddie laughed, relieved.
“Thank fuck, I was scared for a minute.” 
You fumbled at the hem of your oversized sweater, attempting to wriggle it up your body but all motor skills were beyond you right now. 
“Eddie.” You pouted at him, flapping the edge of your sweater with frustrated hands. 
“You want this off?” 
“Please.” 
He flashed you a mischievous grin and pulled up upright, beginning to draw the offensive sweater up and over your form. 
“Didn't think you'd be begging me to undress you sweetheart.” 
Rolling your eyes in response, you held your arms over your head like a petulant toddler. Sweater removed and tossed to the foot of the bed, you risked a glance at Eddie. He was entirely preoccupied, staring at your bare midriff that was now on display. 
“It's a crop top Eddie, get over it.” 
Flinging yourself back down on the pillow, Eddie coughed, looking a little flustered, and settled in next to you. 
“Sorry, I didn't expect it. You always wear baggy shit.” 
“Comfortable shit, thank you. I come here to smoke, it's not New York fashion week.”
Eddie ran a finger across you, just below your belly button. The barely there touch blazed across your skin. 
“I didn't know you had your belly button pierced.” 
Looking down, you watch as his fingers circle it, then flick the little jewel dangling off the end. Thighs clamping together out of sheer necessity, you attempt to ignore it. 
“Yeah, got it done when I was like 15, two towns over. Probably my least painful piercing. Apart from ears, of course.”
Apparently, Rick's new strain also makes you run your mouth, as well as being insanely warm and horny. It seemed you had captured Eddie's attention. He turned further towards you, one hand holding his head up. The other, much to your relief, stayed on your stomach. You're not sure he was even aware he was still stroking your skin. 
“Least painful? What other piercings do you have?” 
You seriously considered dodging the question, but it's difficult to be devious directly to those big wet eyes of his. It's like trying to lie to a baby cow. 
“Well, I got my nose done, but the piercing fell out and I didn't bother to get a new one. That one stung. But the worst had to be my… my nipples.” 
The whole bed lurched as Eddie jumped up and sat cross legged facing you. He practically flew into action, grabbing his cigarettes and a lighter as if you were about to tell him some epic tale. 
“Right, tell me everything.” 
Whilst laughing at his wide eyed expression, you realise he's being completely serious. 
“Well, they er, they like, sanitise the… area, draw a dot where they're going to pierce you and tell you to take a deep breath in and it's done. It's super quick actually. It's more the after part that hurts. Why are you interested?” 
Eddie pushes his hair behind one ear, the tip of it is glowing scarlet, you notice. 
“I was thinking about getting it done my last birthday but I didn't have the cash.” 
He's staring at you, nervously chewing on a hang nail. You can practically see the unasked question dancing on his tongue. You weren't going to offer, hell no. If he wants to see he has to ask. The thing is, the way your tummy is bubbling right now, you don't think you could say no to those eyes of his. 
The question remains unsaid. He merely offers you a drag on his cigarette which you take gratefully, before he's stubbing it out and laying back down next to you. 
“How you feeling now? Bit less baked?” 
“Oh I'm still fucked, but I can see straight and I don't feel sick.” 
His fingers begin their dance again, skating over your exposed flesh, stroking down your side to your hip, across your stomach, and back again. You want to mention it. He's never touched you like this before, but you also don't want him to stop. 
“Good. Not inviting you over again if you hurl on my bed.” 
Giggling, you turn and face him. You're both on your sides now, knees close to knocking. His shirts ridden up again and before you can even register what you're doing you've placed a delicate hand on his hip. His eyes widened briefly, but that's it. Both of you are touching the others bare flesh, whispers of touches. Little, tentative things, like the bursting of soap bubbles on skin. 
“I wouldn't hurl on your bed. I'm sure I'd at least make it to the bathroom. I'm not an animal.” 
Eddie just grins in response, and you look at each other, really look. His dopey smile is the same as yours, and it seems neither of you want to mention how this seems to be rolling into very unfamiliar territory. 
“Eddie?” 
“Hmm?” 
“Why are you touching me?” 
He pushes infinitesimally closer, his knee now slotting between yours. It's a small gesture, but suddenly the situation feels even more intimate than before. 
“Because. Because it feels good. You're soft, and warm. And you keep making little noises.” 
“I do?” 
He smooths his hand higher, thumb dragging along the underside of your breast, and you let out a tiny, quivering whimper.
“See? Like that.” 
Opening your legs slightly wider, Eddie's knee pushes naturally further forward, his thigh now wedged between yours. His breath is fanning your nose; cigarettes, weed, and sweet snacks. 
“So sweetheart, why are you touching me?” 
Your hand presses a little more firmly, snaking underneath the hem of his shirt. With no complaint forthcoming, you reach further up, stroking his side, up over his ribs, and back down again. He responds in kind. Every kiss of fingers is electrifying, filling the room with a soft, dense tension. 
“Because it feels good. Because I saw a bit of skin and I couldn't resist.” 
“Yeah?” He's smirking as he says it, but you're beyond playing games at this point. 
“Yeah.” 
“I didn't know I was irresistible.”
You pinch his skin a little and he stares at you like you just betrayed him. 
“I didn't say that, you're twisting my words.” 
“Pretty sure I heard-” 
Cutting him off with a tickle to the ribs, he grabs your hand to stop you. 
“OK, OK! You were right, I was wrong. Nice touches again please.” 
His hand swiftly makes its way back to your skin and you continue to stroke him. 
“Nice touches?” 
“Yeah, it feels really good.” 
Running your hand up, you graze his nipple, and then bring it back down, down, until you reach the top of his jeans. You graze a finger, just one, under them, sweeping across his tensing abs. Then, you move up to more innocent flesh. 
“Jesus Christ.” 
Eddie's chest is heaving, fingers pressing indents into your flesh. 
“Nice enough?” you're the one smirking this time, pleased at the effect you're having on him. 
“Yeah.” 
It's barely a word, more of a breath. You scoot closer toward him, just a couple of inches, but it's close enough to feel his thigh start to press against your heat. Gasping at the pressure, you rub subtly against his thigh to try and relieve your mounting feelings, no matter how slightly. 
Eddie's hand starts making a trembling journey up your form, fingers twisting underneath your top. Feeling the underside of your bare breast, you both gasp. Eddie undoubtedly because you weren't wearing a bra, you because, well, the obvious. The slightest graze had your nipple hardening instantly, hips rocking forward without your control. 
“Is this OK?” 
“Yeah. Please.” 
Fingers stretching further, Eddie finally brushes your nipple. The feeling is magnified by your piercing; they've felt more sensitive since you got them done.
The moan that escapes is louder than you meant but it couldn't be helped. This simple touch is igniting through your nerves and rushing to your high brain. 
“Shit, they are pierced.” 
It seems to be a thought that Eddie said out loud by accident as he rubs his fingers over your ruddy nipple, slowly circling the silver balls of the jewellery. 
Another moan breaks from you, even louder this time.
“Fuuuuck Eddie.” 
“Yeah?” 
His touches become firmer, rubbing your nipple between thumb and forefinger, mapping the way your face scrunches up with his eyes.
“Yeah, jeez. They're really sensitive.” 
Practically panting in each other's mouths, your noses rub together. 
“Can- can I kiss you?” 
His words are so hesitant that it makes you giggle. Pressing your lips in a swift kiss to his full bottom lip, you respond. 
“I'd be mad if you didn't.” 
Eddie wastes no more time, pressing a hot open mouthed kiss to you that you reciprocate in kind. You keep it slow, leisurely traversing new territory with soft, exploring tongues. Naturally your arms encircle him, pulling him closer, closer. His arm snakes around your back as your bodies press together, like puzzle pieces slotting together and finding their perfect match. Eventually you break away to take a gasping breath as Eddie presses kisses to your collarbone.
“I don't know why we waited so long to do that.” 
“We? I thought you just wanted me for free drugs!” 
You giggled loudly at that, so loud it came out as a snort, but it didn't matter. The moment was so honest that being cool had nothing to do with it. You were bare, in a way, and so was he. 
Eddie chuckled with you as he slowly but surely pushed you onto your back, slipping both of his legs between yours. Pushing your hips up, you feel his hardness graze your pubic bone. 
“Eddie?” 
He hums a response, lips and tongue busy loving on your neck. You tug at the hem of your top and pull upwards. Eddie gets the message, moving out of the way briefly so you can strip it off. 
There you are, bare chested in front of him. You'd be nervous, if you hadn't seen the longing in his eyes. He's kneeling, one arm leaning on the mattress whilst the other compulsively strokes your side. 
“Jesus Christ your tits are perfect.” 
The moment stretches just a little too long for comfort; you're a hair's breadth away from crossing your arms over your chest when Eddie leans down and runs his tongue around and around one nipple. Mewling pathetically, you lace your fingers in Eddie's soft waves and tug. In response his teeth graze you as he sucks softly; then he gives the other just as much attention. 
Shuddering and wriggling under him, you can't do anything but whine, your hips undulating upwards to chase some friction, some release, anything. 
“Eddie, please, I need you.” 
“Umph,” He responds, muffled by your chest, “I need you to say that again.” 
“Eddie I swear to God if you don't- ” 
He laughs, cutting off your sentence. 
“Alright baby girl, I got you.” 
Working his way down your front, he takes his time planting soft kisses, making you writhe at each touch of his lips, until he reaches your shorts. 
Flicking the button open, he slowly drags the zip down and finds the little sliver of red panties poking out. 
“Hearts? Cute.” 
Thick fingers plunge into your clothes and pull them away, flinging your shorts and panties across the room into the void that was Eddie's carpet. 
Insecurity finally gripped its claws into you. What if he didn't like what you looked like down there, smelled like, tasted like? 
A moment of unadulterated panic, and then Eddie licked his tongue, slowly yet firmly, between your lips and all the way up. Barging your thighs further apart with his shoulders, he rooted your clit out with his tongue, running dizzying circles and sucking at it desperately. 
Eddie's moans rivalled your own, such neediness etched in you swear his fingerprints will be left on the outside of your thighs like tattoos, simply from the force he held you with. Barely able to shake, you compensated by pulling his hair and guiding his tongue exactly where you needed it. 
He pushed a thick calloused finger into you slowly, looking up at you as he did so. You back arched off the bed. He felt around, staring at you with such intensity you that you were seconds away from telling him to quit staring when-
“Oh God, oh fuck!” 
Eddie smirked, sliding another finger in gently to join the first, and worked your clit between his lips. He incessantly stroked a spot inside that you'd never reach on your own, a firm, beckoning gesture as if he were willing your orgasm to come hither. 
It was working. Your insides tingle, a tightness pulling straight from your gut and shooting out to your fingers and toes. Beyond control by this point, your hand pulls his hair tightly. To your amazement, his other hand reaches out to you, seeking, and you lace your fingers in his own. 
As soon as your digits touched, you were gone. Your release plummets out of you, shaking through every bone you have, leaving you a twitching puddle of a woman. His fingers chase after it, dragging every inch of squelching pleasure out of your insides until you're tugging him away and begging for it to stop. 
As he moved back up your body, licking and sucking as he did so, you tried to think of an answer to the smug grin he was just about to flash at you. 
There was none. Brain unravelled, threads wound into your nerves instead of your thoughts, you laid there, ruminating on how he'd made you come faster than any other man.
Eddie hovered over you, nose nudging your own. He must have wiped his mouth at some point whilst you were in la la land. 
“Hey pretty girl.”
“Eddie, you're really fuckin’ good at that.”
“I know.”
You laugh, tapping his side.
“Cocky.”
“Confident.”
Before you can retort his mouth is back on you, peppering kisses to your jaw, as his solid member presses into your naked heat.
“Fuck Eddie, please, please please-”
“Please what baby girl?” He asks, then sucks a hickey on your neck. 
Pulling him towards you by his shirt collar, you bite down sharply on his earlobe, pulling a little groan from his chest.
“I want you to stuff me full Eddie. I'm- I'm on birth control. Fill me up.” 
You can practically feel Eddie's eyes roll to the back of his head.
“Fuck, you can't just say that, I nearly busted in my pants!” 
Pulling himself off you for the shortest time he could, he peels his t-shirt over his head and flops back on top of you. Desperate kisses and urgent gropes spill from you both; grinding, needy things that tore at clothes and grasped at flesh. 
After fiddling and failing with his belt, you huff and tug harshly at his waistband. He chuckles, biting at your bottom lip as he unlatches it with ease and then wriggles his pants and boxers down his legs with urgency. 
More desperate grasps, teeth and tongues clashing violently, your hand reaching down to clutch at his- 
“Holy hell!” 
His eyes widen, hands coming to a halt, waiting for the rest of your sentence. You're too busy trying to glance down his front as he hovers over you, your fist firmly stroking his hardened cock.
“You're huge Eddie!” 
He smirks and thrusts into your hand, the velvet smoothness of his dick massaged  by your palm. 
“Bet you say that to all the guys.”
“Er, no, Rick's made some truth serum or some shit because that's the biggest I've ever felt.” 
You guide him firmly towards your entrance, dragging the tip of his enlarged cock through your slickened folds. He quivers over you, arms thick with tension. 
“Baby girl just, just slip it inside, please-” 
“Now who's begging?” 
Grinning mischievously, you wait for him to start forming an answer with his mouth when you slip the head inside your sopping opening. His open mouth turns into a long drawn out moan. 
You would tease him if the feeling of him splitting you open wasn't all consuming. Which it fucking is. He just keeps pushing, and pushing, until his chest is flush with yours and he's mumbling platitudes in your ear. 
“Doing so good for me. Such a naughty, naughty girl. Getting filled up by her drug dealer? Baby girls a little dirty, isn't she?”
You're trying not to let him know how much his words affect you, but the fluttering of your satin like walls tells a different story. 
“You're not my dealer.” 
“Oh really? I'm not?” 
Pulling out nearly all the way and pushing back in, you bite your lip at the drag against your insides.
“Dealer implies I buy shit. You just give it to me, like a little simp.”
Eddie's mouth drops open in mock outrage.
“You want me to give it to you now? I'll fucking give it to you baby.” 
Hooking an arm under your thigh, Eddie thrusts into you hard and devastatingly deep. And again, and again, until you start moaning wantonly right in his face, all bravado forgotten.
“Yeah? Atta girl. That good baby? Wanna feel me right here?” 
His other hand pushes against your lower stomach, the pressure deepening the pleasure he's giving you tenfold. 
“Oh Eddie, oh fuckfuckfuck!!” 
Your release explodes out of your cunt with a gush, liquid spurting out of you so hard you nearly force his impressive length out. It waves drastically, like the sea against the shore, washing and washing over you until it's hard to breathe. 
“Baby, baby! Holy shit, I think you squirted.” 
“Ya think? My God, that was… mind blowing.” 
“Yeah?” 
Looking up at him, you expect that arrogant grin, but he just looks pleased and innocent. Like a kid at Christmas. 
“Yeah, fuck yeah.”
Rolling him over with all the power left in your thighs, you pin him down and move firmly into him, ferality taking over your actions. 
“Jesus Christ, you are a dirty girl, aren't you?” 
“Maybe just a little.” 
Smirking, you hump against him, your swollen clit bumping against his pubic bone on each delicious pass. 
“Holy shit, I'm not complaining- fuck, what the- what are you doing? Jesus Christ!” 
You bounce hard on him. Seeing him writhe under you is a special kind of power, one you aren't willing to let go of. Ever.
“Fuck, b-baby girl, you're gonna make me come!” 
His intense moans spur you on further. Unable to bounce so much on shaky knees you snuggle down close to him, arms clutching his shoulders, as you grind into him. It's massaging sensations into your clit, as well as teasing your g spot with his imposing length. 
“I can't, I’m-  baby girl-” 
“I'm gonna come, Eddie please, fill me up, I wanna feel it, I wanna feel your cum inside me, please, fuckin’ breed me Eddie. Oh fuck!” 
Quivering against him uncontrollably, your legs give out, collapsing on his body as he tenses and releases inside of you. It spurs your own orgasm, snaking up your spine and gripping on your system like a fly caught in honey. An open mouthed scream is all you give him, silent but chock full of feeling, as your back arches in its own tension. 
As it curls out of you, your back gives up, and you flop forward, bones turned to pudding. 
“Well.” is all that comes out, a puff of a word, just air escaping from a collapsing chest.
“Well.” Eddie responds, waiting for what you're about to say. 
You're sure he doesn't expect it. A laugh bubbles out; a weird, inside laugh, that you probably should never share with anyone. But it keeps coming. And coming. Laughing uncontrollably, you roll off of him and try to get your stomach muscles in check. 
You'd be worried about his reaction, if he wasn't laughing with you. It was this odd mixture of tension and relief that was bursting in the air, a barrier broken and left crumbling at your feet. 
“Eddie. Fuck, Eddie.” 
“Yeah?”
‘Yeah.”
His heated hand found yours, and squeezed your fingers hard. For some reason, it felt more intimate than all of this combined. 
Giggling again, you lean into his chest, fingers dipping up to weave into his hair. 
“Baby girl, you can't just-” 
“What? Pull your hair? Because you like it?” 
Tugging on his hair dramatically, Eddie tosses his head back and groans. 
“Knew it.”
“Yeah, yeah, certified genius. It's like you don't wanna be railed again.” 
Huffing, you pull yourself on top of him again, hardened nipples brushing softly against his flesh. 
“Oh, I think I'll be the one railing you. You wanna make a bet, for next time?” 
Smug grin forgotten, Eddie stares at you in disbelief.
“Next time?” 
“Well, I hope so. Got to be the best I've ever had.” 
Stupid Rick and his stupid strain. 
“Best you've ever had?” 
“Fuck you.” 
“Only if you wanna.” 
The teasing stopped. At least for now. It was pretty clear, your need for each other was outranking any goading you'd been sharing. 
At least for now… 
Taglist (Some permanents, some likely candidates, if you want to be added, jus say the word sweetheart)
@eddiesprincess86 @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @roanniom @usedtobecooler @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson
5K notes · View notes
luvrxbunny · 5 months
Text
so much
pairing: bf!Miguel O’Hara  x f!reader
summary: You give Miguel a handjob for the first time.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, handjob, lots of cum (lmk if i forgot anything)
wc: 2.1k
a/n: i blacked out again. 
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Miguel stopped kissing you maybe fifteen minutes ago. He said he was getting too worked up and that you guys should stop, of course, you respected his wishes. You’re both now sitting in bed, he’s reading and you’re supposed to be doing some extra research but all you can focus on is the bulge in his pants. 
This happens a lot, you guys get heated and Miguel stops everything. It’s been six months and you’ve never seen him cum. You’ve told him you love him, he’s made you cum with his fingers and his mouth but you’ve never seen him cum. It doesn’t bother you too much, you just assumed he wasn’t a very sexual person, although you are and you love pleasuring your partner, you love him more. So you decided you could deal with it, but then you noticed that he would get hard, quite hard, and just not let you help him. You’ve offered many times and he always protests, saying “It’s fine, it’ll just go away.” 
Once he even went into your bathroom for it. He chose to get himself off instead of just letting you do it. You tried to ask Jess about it but she says that Miguel doesn't talk about that stuff, all she knows is that he’s definitely not a virgin. So your last option to understand is to just ask him. So you do. 
“Miggy?” His head comes up from his book to look over at you, peeking over his glasses like a librarian, making you chuckle. “Um… You- You’re—” You start the sentence but soon realize how awkward this conversation could be. You try and figure out ways to piece it together as Miguel sits up straight, closes his book, and takes his glasses off, giving you his full attention. Now that he’s straightened himself out he’s looming over you a bit, making you even more nervous. 
“You’re still… hard..?” It comes out as a question more than a statement and mumbles more than words but he understands you. He clears his throat awkwardly as you slowly close your laptop and cast it aside. “Y-yes, I am.” He’s looking around the room now, his eyes avoiding yours. 
“Okay. So do you not like handjobs or something? I just- I know that you’ve gotten something before I just don’t- I don’t know why you won’t let me.” You’re looking at him as you speak, he’s looking at the duvet, and from the corner of your eye, you swear you see his dick jump in his pants. 
“Cariño… I-” He takes a deep, slightly frustrated breath and looks up at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to explain himself. “I want to… Tan jodidamente mala but… you’re different.”
(“... So fucking bad but…”)
Insecurity spreads through your body at his words. Your mind is already racing, trying to decipher what he could mean.   
What the fuck? How am I different? Oh god, is he not even attracted to me sexually? Maybe I’m not his type. Is there something I’m missing? Maybe it’s something that he’s into, maybe I just need to get into whatever that is? Unless it really is just me that’s the problem…
“I love you so much…” The words instantly relax you. You believe him when he says it, but his tone implies that it’s a bad thing. “I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else. So-” He sighs again and runs his fingers through his hair. “So I’m- I’m more sensitive… when- when it comes to you.”
Arousal pools at the bottom of your stomach as you process his words. ‘More sensitive’
The thought that he hasn’t wanted you to touch him because it would feel too good has you leaking between your legs. 
He’s silent as you process, he’s waiting for you to laugh. But when he looks over at you you’re looking up at him with those eyes. The ones that always have him hardening in his pants before you have to say anything. The ones that he pictures on late nights when he can’t sleep. The ones that burn into his eyelids as your name falls from his lips and he cums all over his sheets… Those eyes. 
He huffs out a breath and shakes his head, denying you before you can even propose your suggestions. “No, cariño. I- It’s embarrassing.” He protests but his voice is getting breathy, arousal leaking its way in as he watches you seat yourself by his knees, facing him. Your hand is placed on his upper thigh which has begun to twitch under your touch. “We can’t, I can’t. Habría mucho también.”
“Mucho?” You question, only understanding some of what he said. “A lot, what?” You’re focused on his face, watching it contort as he whines at the Spanish that rolls off your tongue. Your hand has begun to massage his thigh, you can feel the fabric pull tighter with every pulse of his cock. Your hand slides up, closing in on where he wants you the most. His head falls back against the headrest as pleasure shoots through him. 
You can tell he’s being honest with his reasoning as you watch him. He’s letting out tiny moans, little whines like you’ve been teasing him all day but you’re just massaging his thigh. You keep it up, just groping his twitching leg as he tries to hold his moans in so he can answer you. “C-cum, habría tanto semen.” His hips start thrusting off the bed, barely noticeable.
(“C-cum. there would be so much cum.”)
“Yeah? You’d cum so much for me, Miggy?” You move from your spot, throwing your leg over him, straddling his thighs as you begin to palm his dick. His eyes roll back into his head as moans rip from his throat. He quickly grabs your wrist, roughly, stopping all your movements. His head raises to look at you. 
“I’m- I’m a bit… nervous, cariño. It would be a lot for me. I- No one has ever seen me like that. I’m only like this for you, I- can’t help it." His eyebrows furrow, and he huffs at a breath, like he's angry at himself. "I don’t want you to think it’s… extraño, anormal, or that I’m- I don’t know.” You can see the genuine concern on his face, and the fear in his voice as he anxiously rambles. 
("... strange, abnormal,")
“Miguel…” He whines at how you say his name, you smile brightly and fondly at the sound. “I love you. In a way I didn’t even know was possible. I’m never going to think you’re-  like, weird or something. At least not in a bad way. I-” You sigh gently and look into his eyes, you wrench your hand out of his grip and place it on his face, pulling him in for a soft kiss that he whimpers into. You pull away and give him the most serious look you can manage. “We don’t have to if you’re too nervous but if you’re worried about what I’ll think? Please don’t.”
He holds your gaze, considering your words for a moment. “But there’s mucho, cariño. No importa lo que yo haga. When- whenever I think of you, there’s… so much.” He tries to express his concern but you really don’t understand.
("No matter what I do.")
“Miguel.. That just- That just turns me on even more I- I don’t see why that’s a bad thing.” You speak honestly, watching his face shift into a mix of pleasure and confusion as his head falls back again. His hips press into the air, his legs spread, opening himself up for you as a pathetic “Por favor” falls from his lips. 
You spring into action immediately. You pull his pants low enough for his cock to fly out, instantly standing straight, hitting and staining his shirt. A hiss falls from his lips as you wrap your hand around him, and his head comes up to watch you. His eyes are watery as they stare at your little hand around his huge cock. You’re watching him, you don’t move yet, you can see him taking in every detail, committing the scene to memory before meeting your eyes. 
“Ready?” You ask him with a devious smile on your face. He nods vigorously, “Sí, estoy... estoy tan lista, cariño. Por favor.”
(“Yes, I'm... I'm so ready, honey. Please.”)
You run your hand up his cock, swirling around the head before meeting the base again. His reaction is instant and extreme. His hands leave your hips for the bed as his claws rip into the sheet. His body is already shaking as tense, short, and quick moans fall from his lips. All his muscles are pulled tight as you slowly run your hand over him. His eyes are wide, staring at your hands as they pleasure him. 
You’re mesmerized by his cock, red, hot, and pulsing in your hand as you stroke him. Pre-cum is spilling from his slit at a consistent pace, making him all wet and sloppy. You hear his head hit the headboard again as his moans grow more unrestrained, shouting out into the open air. “I- I-’m not- Can’t” He lets out a frustrated whine that morphs into a genuine moan before he tries to speak again. “No voy a durar. Joder, tus manos son el paraíso, cariño. No voy a durar mucho, no puedo-”
(“I’m not gonna last. Fuck, your hands are heaven, honey. I won't last long, I can't-”)
You can’t understand the words but based on how frantically he says them, the way his hips have started thrusting up into your hand gently and the way his legs are spreading themselves wider underneath you are good clues. “You’re gonna cum, Miggy?” You finally look away from his saturated cock to observe him. His face is flushed, as he nods at you desperately. He tries to moan your name at you but he can’t form the syllables. You love it. Seeing him like this, wet and aching for you. This is definitely going to become a daily thing. 
“Yeah? You promised me a lot, hermoso. I want it all. Give it to me, baby.” He fully shouts your name at the Spanish pet name. He grunts pathetically as he lifts his hand from the bed, willing his claws to retract so he can touch you. His hand squeezes your hip desperately, shaking as his moans quickly rise in pitch and volume. Your eyes are focused back on his erratically twitching cock, you don’t see his head lift to look at you.
He’s cumming the moment he can see your face. 
You stroke him as fast as you can, listening to his breathy sob as his cock shoots out heavy ropes of cum. He’s watching your face, trying to gauge your reaction through his cloudy eyes. You’re watching his cock in awe, his cum runs over your hand, coating your fist as you jerk him through it. He’s nothing but a bundle of gasps, moans, and sobs as his cock spurts out a whole new load. He watches your face as it morphs from disbelief to burning arousal, your breathing speeds up the longer he cums. He can hear whines start to slip out of you as his hips jerk into your hand. You tear your eyes away from the cum pooling around and coating his cock just in time to see his eyes shift from you to the back of his head. He lets out one last drawn-out wail before his hips rest back on the bed. His cock begins to soften, spurting out tiny ropes as you stroke him softly, helping him down. You try to get the raging fire in your stomach and the flood between your legs under control before getting up for a towel. He was right. There was so much.
You wipe him down as he whines and mumbles deliriously until you hear a little sob and he reaches out for you. You throw the towel to a corner of the room as he pulls you into his chest. He whispers what sounds like thanks and praise into your hair as you kiss his chest. 
“Gracias, cariño. Eso- eso se sintió tan bien, te sentiste tan bien. Te amo.” You giggle at him gently. “You’re welcome and I love you too, baby. You know I can’t understand most of what you said, right?” You feel his chest rumble with a chuckle before he speaks again. “I- I know, it's just… El inglés se me hace difícil. Yo olvido. I- I’m” He laughs at himself. “You get my head all mixed up, cariño.” 
(“Thank you love. That- that felt so good, you felt so good. I love you.”)
(“English is difficult for me. I forget”)
He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Oh really?” You say in a playful tone as he chuckles at you. You turn and pull him in, his lips just inches from yours. “Me encanta eso.” You had to pull all your Spanish I classes together to figure that sentence out but the reward is worth it. Miguel’s eyes widen and he gasps before smashing his face into yours, you can feel his wide smile against your lips as he kisses you and you’ve never felt happier. 
(‘I love that.”)
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thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!
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5K notes · View notes
amisunderstoodgoddess · 6 months
Text
The Hunt
(final part here)
Rating: Explicit +18
Summary: When the creature you fear so much manages to escape containment, will he show you any mercy or take you without any regret?
Author's note: I intend to make this story with just two chapters. This is the first, the second will soon be available. Hope you like it!
English is not my first language.
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'ALERT: Specimen 375-6 is out of containment.
It's not training. All search and capture units were activated.
ALERT: Specimen 375-6 out of containment.'
You swallow hard as you read the warning message on your phone, the words falling over your body like a truck of bricks.
He had escaped.
The creature you knew and didn't know.
It was yet another top-secret government item, another non-human biological material captured and kept for research.
He stands out from the others, of course.
With his height, intimidating physique, and obvious intelligence, but you never actually approached his cell, only catching brief glimpses from afar as you did your job collecting and saving data from the scientists' research in the system.
But you always felt something strange in the rare moments you needed to approach the cell block he was in.
He kept to the back, using the shadows to stay hidden. And yet there was one thing that caught your attention, regardless of how dark the place was.
His eyes.
Two orange spheres, standing out like beacons in the night.
He remained basically the same every time you entered that part of the building. Sitting on the floor with his legs half bent and his wrists firmly restrained by chains resting on his knees, you couldn't make out the color of his scaly skin or his features in general, but the color of those eyes shone like neon lights in the darkness of the cell.
He looked at you, every time.
It was disturbingly intense. There were no blinking eyelids or shifting gazes, he stared at you with unwavering focus from the moment you entered the lab until the moment you left. His eyes…they shone with intelligence and superiority. Like he's just there because he wants to be there, not because he was captured. He owned everything he laid eyes on. The rational part of your brain screamed, 'Look away! Run away!' but those eyes seemed to want to capture your soul with each encounter.
All your co-workers had noticed the strange fixation that the creature seemed to have on you, but you always denied it, diverting the subject while saying it was just their imagination.
Deep down you knew it wasn't.
You saw the way his unsettling gaze settled on your form, felt the shiver run down your spine at his gaze and yet - even now, you could still feel that warm buzz inside at the memory of his burning gaze locked on you.
You could admit that it wasn't healthy to feel any level of curiosity towards a murderous monster who was obsessed with you. It was scary.
Your only consolation was that he was tightly contained with the best technologies the government could dispose of.
But he always seemed very calm to you, as if he were above all that. In a confident and almost arrogant way, in the way that only people who have a coldly calculated plan are.
Now he was free.
And you had a horrible feeling that you knew exactly who he was going after.
You quickly walk down the street towards your house. Your heart beats fast, the gentle breeze brushes your warm skin and your loose hair. The canopy of trees above and the few lights along the main path cast their shadow in the opposite direction as you walk faster and faster.
At the end of the street, your eyes notice movement, something large and slow, moving behind a row of parked cars. It's not completely unusual for pedestrians to be out so late - after all, you're here, right? - but your stomach drops a little, very consciously. Something instinctive warning you that it is smart to be afraid.
By the time your trajectory takes you past the line of dark vehicles, the street is once again empty and you allow the hairs on the back of your neck to rise with relief. It was probably just some insomniac suburbanite, taking out the trash or smoking a cigarette on the sidewalk.
Rows of closed windows stare at you blankly as you pass by, colonial houses with sagging porches and overgrown backyards, the residents of the peaceful neighborhood sleeping soundly within the comfort of their homes.
A noise breaks the silence: a loud, prolonged rumble, followed by an inhuman whine, an undeniably animal sound.
There's a single lamp behind you that puts an enormous silhouette into sharp relief, but you can still easily see his solid, dangerous structure.
Your knees threaten to give way, your throat burns as you try to take a deep breath, fear leaves you numb and clumsy in exactly the least desired way at the moment. You don't think, not really, you just act. Getting to the house across the street is like running a marathon, and raising your fists to knock on the door, swing the doorknob, requires a huge effort against the adrenaline that makes your hands shake uncontrollably. "Please help me!", your voice is hoarse, your throat is tight, it's not loud enough, no matter how much you want to scream - it's like you're trapped in a nightmare where no one can hear your screams for help. "Let me in, please, I-"
The door swings open under the weight of your fists, and you almost fall to your knees at the abrupt movement. You don't have time to think, to weigh whether this would be the smartest choice compared to the others, you don't know if he's clinging to your back or if there's still a safe distance between the two of you -
You just enter.
---
The realization of the terrible mistake you made dawns on you in the space of a few minutes of panting breaths.
The living room is empty, strangely enough, not that you really have time to think about it. A staircase appears in your field of vision, and your panicked animal brain sends you toward it, taking two steps at a time, crossing a long landing and climbing to a second floor, holding on to the railing like a wooden board salvation. "Someone please!" You manage to scream, "Please, someone! I'm being followed, call the police!"
The police couldn't help you, and if you were thinking clearly you would know that. No one, not even the army, could help you against this thing.
Yet there is no voice responding, no shuffling human movement, no clicking light. And then you see the paint cans, the tarp, the door off its hinges and against the opposite wall.
This house is under construction.
Nobody. No lights. Without help.
Spinning on your heel, you stagger back toward the stairs. But there is no more time. The door you left ajar in your moment of despair lets in a pale beam of moonlight through the unfinished wooden floor of the foyer, and you watch in mute horror as a shape fills it - huge, so tall that he has to lower his head past the doorframe, a brick wall of an alien assassin wearing a metallic mask. The soulless black holes of the visor, poor excuses for eyes, stare back at you.
Alone, in an empty and unfamiliar house. Your heart pounds in your chest, bile rising in your throat - you're trapped.
You know it. And he knows it too.
The creature walks with slow and determined steps towards the end of the stairs. You briefly, wildly consider waiting until he reaches the landing and then throwing yourself off the balcony. You can survive.
The thought makes you feel like a panicked rat, chewing on its own leg to get out of the trap.
Of course there's also the possibility that you'll break every bone in your body and die from sheer stupidity - which may be preferable to death by those sharp claws on his massive hands, but at least the latter you'll be able to escape. If you can keep your wits and your legs under you, you might be able to outwit the Predator. Evade the trap.
You almost want to laugh at your own delusions of salvation.
Your unsteady feet drag back without your eyes leaving him, but with every slow step you take back he takes one towards the stairs. The silver rays of the moon bathing his reptilian-looking skin, highlighting his entire body dyed in a singular tone of obsidian, with some lighter variations on the abdomen and in some internal points. Thick, long tendrils of 'hair' flow around the mask and over his broad shoulders, adorned with gold and silver metal beads. One of his hands - oh, huge and with long, sharp black claws - seems to want to reach out towards you, but the creature holds back for some reason, preferring to continue with the strange war of glances.
It seems that in his escape from the laboratory he recovered some of his things: in addition to the mask, he wore the wrist gauntlets, the net that covered his body, the strange piece of cloth wrapped around his hips decorated with bones and skulls, and the metallic protectors on the shins. The metallic chestplate and combi-stick weren't visible, you can't tell if he managed to recover it or not.
Regardless, he was infinitely more frightening now that you can see him outside of containment; big and broad, a solid wall of defined muscles. But it was his posture that unnerved you. The roll of his shoulders, the tension in his arms. The almost imperceptible flex of his calf muscles, as if he was preparing to jump - just waiting for a movement from you to attack.
He reaches out, this time to his own face, grabbing the metal there. Air pressure is released when the metal mask is removed.
You hold your breath.
His face was lighter than the rest of his body, a slightly grayish tone with some black streaks mixing with the dreadlock-like hair on his head, a few black barbs framing the sides of his face and along his elongated forehead. There were, of course, those flaming eyes you already knew. Instead of lips, he had four folded jaws with long teeth at the tip of each of them. Inside those jaws, you could see more of his teeth, smaller but more numerous and frighteningly sharp.
He moved his jaws as he climbed the stairs with purposeful slowness, his massive size making the stairs creak, strange clicks and rumbles emerging from his mouth.
You gasped in response to his face, shaky and scared, your backward steps continuing until your back hit the wall.
End of the line.
If you ran you would have to turn your back on him, and you couldn't do that. Never turn your back on a predator, everyone knew this rule.
It was as if you were in a horror movie or a nightmare, where you could only watch without any reaction as the monster approached. The predatory way he approached awakened the primitive instinct to flee, but your legs were shaking too much for that.
You pushed yourself further against the wall, even though there was no longer any space. It looked like he wouldn't stop walking, that he would simply knock you into the wall, but at the last second he pinned you against him and ice-cold wood at your back.
The air was knocked from you, hands flat against his chest instinctively as a way to get some distance. Even under the net, his skin was clearly much warmer and firmer than your own, smooth in some places and textured in others, the latter matching the gray patterns that spread across his extremities. He smelled mostly of moss and damp, like a forest after rain. But there was also a muffled current of pheromones, a slightly peppery scent that hit you like a tsunami.
In fact now that you felt it, it felt heavier and heavier by the second, as if he was exhaling on purpose. With each inhale, that smell seemed to make you a little more relaxed, a little more dizzy.
It took a few seconds for you to realize that he was even closer, hovering above you, his breath hot and wet, stirring your strands of hair. A gasp left your throat as his sharp jaws dove down, digging his nose or whatever it was into your hair to press into your neck - though you didn't know if that sound had been out of terror or something else. All you knew was that when he backed away, another low, animalistic growl resonated from deep in his chest, long and continuous and it took you a few awkward seconds to realize he was...purring? Purring like a cat? It was bizarre, but your own body began to uncoil, as if some force tied behind you sternum had pulled your back with him.
Your breathing is now labored for what seems like an entirely different reason. You can increasingly smell that intoxicating scent in the air and that, plus the mesmerizing purr, is making your eyes roll back slightly, a blurry haze taking over your thoughts. You can feel his sharp claws as they dig into your shirt and you, in turn, can't control the shudder in your body in response.
His scent is doing something to you, something that definitely shouldn't be happening. There's an overwhelming pressure blooming in your core, the beginnings of a dull ache that makes you clench your thighs to ease the tension. The saliva in your mouth comes down with difficulty as you swallow and lick your lips, stretching your neck to look into his eyes - god, you could barely reach the line below his chest with your head. What's happening with you? He is not human, he is not human. This is wrong.
"..." His jaws click and move, strange sounds fill the room with deep growls and hisses; he was talking, but you couldn't understand him. His eyes roam your face as he speaks his strange language, and his thumb gently wipes away a tear you hadn't even noticed falling from your eye.
You open your mouth to question, to scream for help, to beg for mercy, for anything...but nothing comes out.
His breath is hot as he bends his body until he's almost face to face with you, all predatory expression and clicking jaws, almost drooling on your skin. And then, as he forcing the words out of his depths, he says, “Mate.” He declares to you, slowly and gravely in a way that no human sound could ever be, but a little more understandable now.
You look at him in shock, not expecting a deep, English word to come out of his alien mouth. His inhuman eyes are bright enough that you clearly see the orange flames in the dim light of the night, slashed down the center with black, almost feline pupils that threaten to drag you inside.
Mate.
What the hell?
You blink slowly, the low rumble persisting as he purrs under your attention and you can tell he's trying very hard to appear less threatening to you. You bite your lip against a hysterical and completely untimely laugh that wants to escape, the tension of fear finally channeling into something different (something manic and traumatized) when he presses his broad forehead to yours in a frighteningly intimate gesture, tilting his head even further to rub your cheeks with those sharp jaws, snorting into your hair and sniffing at your neck.
The drag of the deadly fangs against your skin is exhilarating, in the worst way and you fear what is to come, a very animal and very instinctive part rooted in the most unconscious corner of your being, knows exactly what this creature is wanting from you. And the worst part, the most disturbing and embarrassing part of this realization, is that you don't know if you want to resist. Not with the way his scent and purrs are making your legs shaky and your mind fuzzy.
You're shaking, but it's not just from fear and perhaps the creature knows this, because he pulls back a little until he looks into your eyes - something very carnal and very primal vibrating almost visibly beneath that reptilian skin.
He slowly looks away from yours to fiddle with something on his wrist, and you feel like you can breathe once again without the oppressive weight of the orange orbs on you. He clicks the object on his arm for a few moments and then pulls a small metal disk out of it. It's no bigger than a small cell phone chip, and he balanced it on his fingertips.
Curious, you lean in a little. You just want to take a look at what he's doing; but before you even know what's happening, the giant puts his hand around your throat and pulls you towards him. You scream at the hostile action and try to fight him, but of course it's no use. With his strong hand, he can easily subdue you and move your head to the side, pressing the metal thing against the skin just behind your ear in a quick, burning blow.
You don't have time to react, much less to understand how he did that at that speed.
You just feel the effect.
It burns, like you're being branded, and you scream. Your whole head hurts, and for a second you wonder if he hit you against the wall in the process. It's a wrong and distorted feeling, like someone is tuning a radio inside your head, you hear screams and white noise echoing inside; so loud that you have to cover your ears with your hands, but that does little to decrease to the cacophony inside your mind.
When the alien releases you, you kneel on the ground, still writhing in discomfort and pain from the chaos in your head – and then, suddenly, everything stops. You're panting, your fingers covering your ears and your head between your knees, but when the noise quiets, you slowly look up. And although you are dizzy and a little disoriented, the presence of the creature hovering ominously above you is clear.
“W-what was that?” you mumble between quick breaths. "What the hell did you do to me!?"
The alien blinks slowly and tilts his head, jaws clicking before he responds. "Now we can talk."
Your eyes widen at the strange sound (but fluid and articulate, very different from just a few minutes ago), your stomach tightens and you pull your knees closer to your chest. “W-what?”
“It’s a translator,” he says. His voice is still very dark and booming, but his growls and clicks have somehow turned into words you can understand. “This allows your little ooman brain to understand my language.”
You swallow hard and feel the blood drain from your body. He was scary when you couldn't understand him, but he was even scarier when he could talk.
“Get up, little ooman,” he murmurs. “We should get to my ship. I don’t want to spend any more time on this miserable planet.”
You can't believe what you're hearing, everything is happening so fast. With shaky legs, you gape at him. “I…I don’t understand.”
The moment is interrupted by something when the alien turns his head towards the window of the house, the various dreads tubes rattling with the movement and his jaws opening in a low trill while a long, forked tongue at the tip comes out of his deadly-looking mouth. You gasp at the sight, but he doesn't look at you, using his own body in front of yours, as if he was instinctively hiding and protecting you from something you cannot see, feel or hear. The burgundy appendage is long and glistens with the moisture of his alien saliva, along its length there are some quivers and small barbs. He slowly waves the thing in the air, almost as if he's proving something. And then you understand.
He's smelling it.
Maybe he's even more snake-like than you thought, after all, catching scent particles in the air with his tongue.
The air is positively thick with eager anticipation, he's alert and ready and you feel it.
You don't have time to think about it too much, though. Because soon he is looking at you again, although there is no longer any sign of malice and hunger in his posture now. The way he lifts his colossal body until he's completely erect, swelling the already prominent muscles to appear more menacing, only speaks of a creature with a purpose.
"Oomans here. They must have some kind of tracker." He growls once more and clicks that gauntlet again, making you jerk back with a new wave of fear.
"Y-yes, all the containment units are after you now. It's only a matter of time before they find you and try to arrest you again. Y-you should go." You respond quietly and slowly, trying to make him understand every word.
"My ship is nearby." He grumbles sullenly. You try to control the wave of curiosity that the word 'ship' evokes in you. Seriously, how many humans have had the opportunity to see one up close? But of course you don't say anything, if you got out of this situation with your life it would be good enough. You would forget about this bizarre encounter and go on with your peaceful and boring life as if you had received the greatest gift of all.
But then he continues.
“You…” He covers your body with his once again, cornering you against the wall. Your eyes widen as he wraps a thick arm around your waist, pulling you into him. "You belong to me now, ooman. You'll come along."
You feel like you didn't get it right. “T-to space?”
He doesn't seem to want to entertain this conversation anymore and just grunts again.
It's like all the red flags go up in your mind at once.
"N-no! No, I can't, that's...I can't!"
But he doesn't listen to you, and you can't predict the sharp sting on your neck. It doesn't hurt like it used to, but he cradles your head with huge fingers almost tenderly as a sickening sensation wracks your body and makes you stagger. You feel weak, your body giving out as you babble out things that even you don't understand. Everything is getting dark and your little fingers are scratching his arms looking for support, your breathing is coming with difficulty and your eyes are unfocused.
"It's okay, mate, just give in...I'll take care of you..." He purrs, but you can barely hear him, your senses are fuzzy and lethargic and you know you're going to pass out.
The last thing you see before the darkness swallows you and the unknown can wrap its tentacles around you, are orange flames above you. Hot, consuming and scary.
And then there is nothing but emptiness.
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Text
What I'd Do For You - LN
Summary: Y/n has got into the habit of helping Lando shave. Then he makes a very weird request to return the favour.
I have Lando brain rot after watching a bunch of his vlogs so...lol.
Themes: Lando being a little weirdo
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Y/n bites her lip in focus sitting on the bathroom counter, carefully move the razor while Lando watches her trying not to smirk. He's been told off one too many times for moving when she's got a blade to his face.
He's actually in the process of mentally building up the courage after y/n earlier stated she was due for a full body shower and that he couldn't join her because there is nothing sexy about it and she doesn't not need an audience.
"Ok, mr clean-shave is back." Y/n smiles before kissing him softly as she gently whips his face clean. "I'm getting pretty good at this. Think that's the cleanest shave I've done for you."
"Thank you, baby." Lando grins, flashing his dimples before going full attack in giving her a million and ten kisses, all over her face.
"Alright, you go keep yourself-"
"I want to shave something for you." Lando rushes out, actually so quickly that even he isn't sure if he really formed proper words.
"You what?" Y/n frowns making him grin at her.
"Can I shave something for you?"
Y/n pulls a face seeming to know exactly what her boyfriend is asking and is not eager to say yes about it. No doubt in her mind, he's not about to ask to shave her legs.
"You want to shave my vagina, don't you?" Y/n sighs in defeat while Lando perks up in excitement. Apparently not reading her tone of voice at all. "Lando...why?"
"Because I want to try."
"It's not as simple as shaving your face, you realise that right?"
"Please, baby? If I cut you I promise you can slap me."
Y/n groans a little not at all looking forward to this experience.
"Nothing I haven't seen before."
"Yeah, um giving head is a little different to taking a sharp blade down there."
"You can say no."
Y/n looks at him for a moment hesitant in her decision.
"But please?" Lando smiles with a quick pout stealing a kiss.
"This stays between us."
"I promise." Lando nods looking so excited that she can't help but smile at him for a it. "Ok, good."
Y/n puffs out a breath trying to figure out how she's meant to talk him through shaving, it's not something someone taught her. She just did it one day and thankfully hasn't taken any permanent chunks out of her flesh.
"Wait-" Y/n panics grabbing his wrist when he just picks up the razor, not even bringing it close to her. "Ok, wait. I just...I want to make sure it's a good position for you but also so I can just see what you're doing."
"Baby, you can trust me. I know this particular part of your body probably better than you do by this point." Lando states earning a deadpanned expression from the young woman. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes, but that is...a very precious body part and easily damaged."
Lando smirks at that before nodding then kissing her softly. After a few huffs and puffs, managing the initial bikini line, he shakes his head.
"Can we lie you down? I don't trust myself at this angle." Lando states earning a look making him manage a reassuring smile. "I haven't cut you so far."
"I know." Y/n murmurs as she shifts to lie down on the counter. "This just feels so weird."
"On the bright side you know if you ever can't do it, like if you get surgery or pregnant. I can do it for you." Lando grins making her lean up onto her elbows looking at him. "Lie down and trust me."
"So easy for you to say that skin is fragile." Y/n pouts as she obediently lies back down.
It takes every ounce of self-control she has to not twitch and flinch away from every glide of the blade. If she moves there's no doubt Lando will slide her open. Or at least that's her fear right now and she feels like it's fairly valid fear to have given her position.
"You need to stop stressing out, baby." Lando laughs while she grumbles at him. "I'm done."
"You're done."
"Yeah, haven't missed a spot. Probably the cleanest shave of your live because I can actually see what I'm doing-and more importantly no blood." Lando grins proudly though she feels him poke around seemingly checking that he didn't miss any stray patches that he might've been more careful with. "You're like a hairless cat."
"A hairless cat?" Y/n frowns while sitting up.
"A bald pussy." Lando grins, laughing when she scoffs nudging him away and trying to hide her own amusement over his joke. "Would you trust me to do it again?"
Y/n sits up and pauses looking at him for a moment.
"You would! I knew it. I knew you would." Lando smirks, cheering as he kisses her cheek. "I'm not saying every time."
"Just went you're feeling bored or adventurous?"
"Yeah maybe." Lando shrugs then rubbing her thighs. "Wasn't so bad, you have to admit."
"Ok, it wasn't so bad. But the only way you're doing it again is if I'm after surgery or during pregnancy." Y/n states earning a smile from her boyfriend who seems almost like an excited puppy about this. "Such a weirdo."
"I just like getting to do new things with you. This was fun."
"Sometimes you really make me wonder how you brain works."
"Come on, you need to get dressed. We're going to go out on a date." Lando grins making her hum before he kisses her softly.
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