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#but V was the ego and got most of the personality
pandoraslxna · 9 months
Note
could u write a fic where lo’ak is edging the reader so she gets kinda frustrated and storms off so the rest of the day lo’ak is teasing her and making fun of her for getting mad but she gets back at him by edging him so much that he cries🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️
Want, get, have.
adult Lo‘ak x female metkayina reader
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Words: 5.2k
Summary: Lo‘ak takes advantage of the little crush he knows the olo’eyktan’s spoiled daughter habors for him. That is, until you finally decide to get payback for all his teasing.
Warnings: explicit smut, edgeplay, Lo‘ak is kinda mean and maybe out of character here, minimal dub/con warning because he’ll get tied up later, p in v, handjob, oral / face sitting, cowgirl position, dirty talk, crying, begging, degradation & praise kink, orgasm denial, obsession, spit kink, switch!Lo‘ak, creampie
Notes: sorry this took forever, I hope you like it 🩵
Na’vi translation:
paskalin = honey
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At first, it was a rumour.
To be more specific, it was the kind of rumour that was grounded close enough to reality that he could see it happening, but not so close that a skeptic could take it at face value, no matter how hard Kiri swore it was legit. Because, see, she heard it from Rotxo who'd heard it from your brother Ao’nung and therefore it must be true. There was no real reason to put any stock in this particular story over, but Lo‘ak couldn't help but be curious. He spent days going back and forth on whether or not he should investigate, but after the fifth, "Hey bro, did you hear...?", he knew he wouldn't be able to get any peace of mind if he didn't. And when it turned out to be true, Lo‘ak couldn’t believe his luck.
The spoiled little brat of the olo’eyktan really had a crush on him. Him, of all people.
As the chiefs daughter, you were accustomed to getting what you wanted.
It wasn't even a matter of being selfish… it was just a habit at this point. Want, get, have. You were spoiled, that’s what it was. It wasn't that difficult to get.
And Lo‘ak knew difficult. Even as a son of an olo’eyktan himself, he had to struggle to get where he was. A better portion of his childhood was difficult, growing up in war, always living under his older brothers shadow. An outcast, a four fingered freak, neither really belonging to his own people nor those aliens from another star, and most definitely not to the metkayina clan. No, Lo‘ak was far from being spoiled.
So what was he supposed to do, when you approached him for the very first time, thinking that batting your pretty long lashes was enough for him to fall to your knees like everyone else would’ve? Exactly! Reject you.
The downright confused look on your beautiful, flawless face was more than just priceless to him, as you struggled to understand that for the first time in your life, you were denied to have something that you wanted.
The flower of his mischievous plan blossomed just shortly after, when you came over to his marui in the morning with freshly picked fruit for breakfast. And then again, when your offerings turned a little more… personal.
Sucking him off, down at the shore. Or when you gave him a handjob after coming back from a hunt with your brother Ao’nung. Nothing has ever fed his ego as much as having a sweet thing like you following him around, practically acting as his shadow. Obsessed, that’s what you were. You became obsessed with him, craving for attention from the one thing you couldn’t have.
And Lo‘ak loved it. The more he denied you, the more you wanted him. But the best part of it all was, when you spread your pretty, smooth, cyan legs for him.
"Look at the mess you’ve made", Lo‘ak tsks, stroking his slick covered dick right over the mound of your pussy. "Got my whole cock drenched. You‘re really that desperate, huh?"
Your chest heaves, breathing rapid, and you’re struggling to collect yourself from the intense orgasm that was so harshly ripped away from your grasp, just as it was about to shatter your whole being.
"Lo‘ak, Lo‘ak please–"
A low chuckle vibrates in his chest, as he furiously pumps his cock with one hand, while fumbling your breast with the other.
"Please, Lo’ak, please", he mocks your tone with a fake pout and then pinches your nipple, before he rolls it between his thumb and index finger. He tugs on the sensitive bud, then asks sternly, "Please, what?"
"I need to come", you hiccup, your glassy eyes being a clear indication that you were actually close to sobbing from desperation. "Let me come, please. I- I was so close!"
"No."
Lo‘ak had lost count on how many times this had happened by now. How many times he had you in every possible position; bend over, under him, on top of him, laying, standing, sitting, on your knees… but he had never granted you that sweet release before. Not that he wasn’t able to, oh no. He had you on the verge of crying, eyes rolling back into your skull, with trembling legs and drool running down your chin like a fucked out little doll within minutes. But he made it his personal goal to finish first. Even if that meant for him to pull out of the delicious, wet heat that enveloped his cock, just to fuck his fist instead and spill himself onto your chest, stomach or wherever he preferred.
As unsatisfying as that might be, the sight in front of him made it all worth it. You were a mess. A begging little brat, too spoiled to handle being denied not only of his love and affection, but also of your orgasms. It was perfect.
You were just so adorable, trying to regain your composure on wobbly legs, once you realized that all that begging and pleading wouldn’t get you very far with him. And then when you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest, like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and stormed off in frustration, it made it all so much better. If that was even possible.
But no matter how insanely mad he was driving you, you just couldn’t stay away from him for long. Not even when Lo’ak so bluntly teased you for your behavior, mocking your pleads, whispering them into your ear as you sat on his lap. Or when he called you spoiled, a brat, his dumb little doll so boldly in front of your friends, not caring for the way your cheeks turned pink in embarrassment. It was only a matter of time for that unbearable tension in your core, an almost animalistic urge for release, to melt you from the inside out, and until you were trying to sweet talk your way back into his loincloth, unable to keep your hands to yourself.
Whatever this odd situation was, Lo‘ak was truly enjoying playing with you like this. Maybe even a little too much.
Unbeknownst to him however, you grew more frustrated with every passing day and every orgasm he robbed you of. So much so, that at one point, you just couldn’t help yourself anymore. Enough was enough, you decided.
There’s a pinch to the soft apple of his cheek that makes Lo‘ak stir awake abruptly from the little nap he had decided to take earlier.
He sighs softly. The sun was still shining bright through the leaves of a big palm tree, blinding his eyes. Lifting a hand to shield the sun away, he’s pulled up short by something around his wrists. Immediately, the fog in his mind begins to clear as he tugs on the restraints locking his arms together over his head.
Hearing your lighthearted giggle sends a wave of goosebumps all over his body, and Lo‘ak blinks a few times for his eyes to adjust to the brightness, before he opens them slowly.
Lifting his head to look down on himself, he’s met with the sight of you, cyan skin glistening in the warm sunlight, kneeling between his spread thighs.
"Good morning, sleepyhead", you coo softly, but Lo‘aks ears fold themselves against his head, his eyebrows pulling together in visible confusion. He then pulls against whatever is tied around his wrists again, testing the strength of his restraint. It’s tight and rough on his skin, but it doesn’t hurt. At least not yet. Whatever it is, it feels suspiciously like the woven cord of a fishing net.
They may not have been designed for this, but they still work pretty well and can also withstand a lot of force without tearing- especially like this, tying Lo’ak to a tree, with no real leverage or enough room to move his hands freely or use just an ounce of his actual strength.
And they ensure that you would get the perfect view of Lo‘ak; with his muscular thighs spread wide and his loincloth lazily hanging over his most priced possession. Just one tug on the right string and it would fall off. You couldn’t help taking a moment to appreciate him like this, entirely constrained, leaving him so open and so vulnerable to whatever you would choose to do to him.
"What are you doing?", Lo‘ak huffs out a laugh, but his voice carries more than a hint of nervousness.
Again, you giggle. Scooting closer, you let your hands run over his chest, all the way up to his neck and over his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. He‘s already so on edge, it makes heat spread in your core.
"You know, I always get what I want, forest boy", you innocently smile up at him, dainty fingers running down over his pecks and to his waist, where his loincloth sits. "And what I want, is you."
Once untied, the neatly woven cloth falls off of him slowly and the omatikaya sucks in a sharp breath. You don’t hesitate to reach out for him, giving his already half hard cock an experimental stroke to feel him stir alive.
"But you’ve been so mean to me, Lo‘ak", you put on a fake pout and then sigh, "You leave me with no choice but to simply take what I want."
Lo‘ak‘s scoff that follows tells you more than enough.
"Oh, yeah? You’re gonna take what you want, like the spoiled little brat that you are? Go on then", he grins, watching you stroke his cock until he was fully hard, standing proud and tall in your palms.
It’s cute, you think. How oblivious he is to the situation he’s in. But by Eywa, you will enjoy every second of it, truly make it up for all the times he didn’t let you come.
Lo‘ak felt the pleasure building in his lower abdomen when your hand tightened just slightly around his cock. You twist your hand on the upward stroke, your thumb teasing the slit on his tip before you let him lazily thrust into your fist, just once.
Fingers sliding over his length and up the underside of his cock, you work him slowly but surely, drawing out a low moan that Lo’ak tried, but failed, to disguise as a curse, before shifting to a faster pace.
It’s no surprise to him how good you are at this. Just thinking about your heavenly handjobs had him rock hard and seeking you out during the most random times a day, thats how damn good they were.
As you let spit pool in your mouth and then dribble onto the mushroom-like tip, Lo’ak throws his head back in bliss at the new sensation, panting fast and heavy through parted lips. Your hands continue to slide down his cock to circle around the base, stroking him firmly.
"Oh fuck, that’s it. Keep going, baby, I’m close already", Lo‘ak mutters under his breath, eyes squeezed shut to focus all of his senses on the pleasure you provide. You feel his cock throb in your palms, clear droplets of pre-cum joining your spit and serving as lubricant to make your strokes become more fluidly.
"J-Just like that", he breathes out, his hips raising up to fuck into your fist, "G-Gonna come, haa– fuck, fuck!"
"Some metkayina men would kill for this, you know", you remark with a mischievous smile, "And you get it for free."
Lo‘ak doesn't respond to that, but that’s okay. You don’t expect him to. His mind is drawing blank and he begins to feel a nervous excitement, a pressure in his ribcage, making it harder for him to breathe properly. Heat boils in his core and his breathing hitches when you move your hand faster, harder.
You watch his hands flex, pulling at the restraining cords around his wrists and his toes curl as he nears the edge of his climax.
"Almost there, Lo‘ak", you coo, "You’re so close aren’t you? Does it feel good, hm? You like that?"
"Yes, yes,– fuck, yes! So good, so fucking good", he moans, before lifting his head up as much as he can to watch you from his current position, already imagining how pretty you will look when he comes, spilling his cum onto your face and chest.
But the sweet bliss he was chasing so desperately was suddenly ripped away from him entirely, when both of your hands leave his cock abruptly. It causes him to gasp like you just stole the very air from his lungs.
"N-No! No, what- what are you doing!?", Lo‘ak curses, his head falling back against the soft sand. "Why did you stop?" His chest heaves and his cock visibly throbs in the air, even more pre-cum leaking from it’s tip now that it’s all swollen and purple, begging for relief.
"And here I thought I was the spoiled one", you say cheerfully, "but look at you. You’re such a mess, and all that just because I didn’t let you get what you wanted…"
Lo‘ak frowns, taking in your words, but then you move as if you’re going to touch him again, and his hips rise towards your hand, instinctively bucking up for the friction he’s been denied.
You giggle at the pathetic sight of him trying to reach your hands, simultaneously struggling against his restraints, before his body falls slack, laying back flat against the sand.
Lo‘ak tries and fails to bite back a small, heartfelt whimper of frustrated need. His cheeks are flushed bright red by now. He really looks cute when he’s frustrated like this, you think to yourself, before you actually reach down and give him a firm tug.
Another moan falls from his lips at the unexpected touch, but it soon turns into more whining when you begin to move your hand in an up and down motion, picking up the same pace where you had left earlier. Lo‘ak slowly begins to squirm underneath your touch, his abs flexing with every stroke of your palms and his thighs twitch. A thin layer of sweat makes his lean body shine in the sunlight, as your restless pace sends his mind into overdrive.
"C-Coming", he forces out between broken whimpers, "m‘coming, m‘coming!"
You feel how he stirs in your palm and right when he’s about to fall apart, you pull your hand away yet again, earning yourself a loud groan of desperation. "What the— f- ah! Fuck", he whines and curses at the loss of another orgasm, squirming when the feeling of euphoria epps away once more.
"I need to come, I really need to come", he nearly sobs when your fist closes around his shaft not shortly after. You’re barely moving now, just teasing the slit of his cock with your thumb, smearing his pre-cum over his most sensitive parts. "Don’t stop now, please. I- I was so close, baby. Please I‘m already begging, I just… Let me come this time." Your fingers ghost over his length before you properly hold him again, hand closing tight around his shaft and his hips jerk up in attempt to help him get there.
"So needy", you whisper, scooting even closer as your hand continues to pump his throbbing length. You’re close enough now that your lips brush over his jawline and he inhales a shaky breath once your face comes close to his. Lo‘aks eyes are half lidded as he stares at you, lips slightly parted before you give him the command, "Open up, pretty boy", to which he dutifully sticks his tongue out and both of your eyes follow the clear droplet of spit fall from your tongue onto his.
Humming in satisfaction, you watch him swallow, groaning at the taste, while you move your hand just a little faster. Call it a little treat for his obedience.
With your other hand now resting on his cheek, you swipe your thumb across Lo‘aks lips, wiping away a stray smear of drool, partly yours and partly his own.
"This is mine", you whisper directly into his ear, tracing the outline of his mouth, and Lo‘ak nods frantically. Kissing away his groan of frustration, you allow him to fuck into your hand for three tantalising, torturous thrusts. His tongue curls around yours, but then you pull away again. "And this", you squeeze his cock tightly, movements haltering and he whimpers, "is mine too, isn’t it?"
Lo‘ak nods for a second time, heavy-lidded and languid and just so desperate in a way he’s never been before.
"And I can do what I want with what’s mine, right?", you tilt your head playfully, amused at the sight of him lifting his head and chasing your lips for another kiss.
"Fuck. Y-Yes!", he whines when all you grant him is a little peck to his bottom lip. "Yes, you can do what you want with me, just please. Please let me come!"
Waiting for his breathing to even out, you finally begin to move your hand again. While you do so, your face nuzzles into his neck, lips tracing his jawline and then moving further up to nibble at the soft shell of his ear. His tail lashes against the ground in anticipation and soon, he’s turned into a moaning mess again. It takes significantly less time to get him close to an orgasm now, you notice. A sharp grin forms on your face as you prop yourself onto your elbows to watch him properly.
"So good, feels so good", Lo’ak’s moans are more quiet now, almost a whisper, like he was scared of being caught. But you felt him pulse in your hand, and his breath hitched hard and that’s all you needed to know.
"Wait– No, no, pl-ah! Please!", Lo’aks whole body seized when the warmth of your touch leaves his cock and yet another orgasm was ruined, leaving him a trembling, cursing mess.
"Oh, c’mon", his frustrated groan immediately turns into a heartbreaking whine, once you retreat your hands entirely. Forced to watch you lick your fingertip clean of his pre-cum, he tugs against his restrains, "I- I want to fuck you, mamas, please. Wanna fuck you so bad. Just let me. I‘ll be so good for you, I’ll make you scream, yeah? I know that’s what you want. Just please. Please, please, I prom—"
"Shhh, it’s okay", you coo into his ear, calming him down enough to make him stop resisting his cuffs. "You’re gonna be good for me, yes? Gonna make me come this time?"
"Oh Eywa, yes. Yes, I- I promise", he stutters, the impatience clear in the strain of his voice, "Untie me, c‘mon, baby."
"Untie you? Oh don’t be silly, paskalin." Your giggle alone is enough to make him shudder, as if his body already knew what his mind was still struggling to process, his brows furrowing as he watched you undress.
"But I thought- I thought you wanted me to—"
"Hmh, I know what I said", you cut him off and the smile on your lips is almost too sweet to be true, "And you will make me come this time. I know it, because I’ll make sure it‘ll happen."
And then you rise up, leg slung over his chest to straddle him, and his hazy golden eyes darken with intrigue. Still, he lies motionless, waiting. Sliding closer and rising up on your knees, you smirk as Lo‘ak lifts his head just slightly, licking his lips at the sight, before falling back to the sand with a put-upon groan.
"Watch the teeth, yes?", you tease him, tracing your thumb over his pointy canine to which he rolls his eyes.
"Just- fucking sit down, sit on my face, c‘mon", he groans in response. His hips seem to have a mind on their own, because you feel them raise up and thrust into the air, his cock desperately seeking attention.
Twining a hand into his hair, you then angle his head between your legs and finally sink down over him.
A warm puff of breath, and then his tongue flicks over your folds, a tickling caress. A delicate kiss, and then he sets to work.
The quickly cooling saliva against your hot skin gives a pleasant sensation, and Lo’ak uses his tongue to part your folds. You squirm and pant beneath him, voice cracking as you attempt to voice your approval. He curves his tongue into a point, flicking and kissing at your most sensitive parts and you begin to shake above him, all needy moans and senseless affirmations, hips rocking down to meet his mouth.
Soon enough, you grind against the flat of his tongue, his nose and the upper half of his face like you’re riding a damn pali. The rest of him lies supine, but his tongue and lips move in practiced tandem, his purrs of satisfaction running through you in turn. “Hmm, just like that", you sigh, hand tightening in his braided hair, the other dropping behind you to steady yourself against his chest.
"You’re so damn delicious", Lo‘ak groans underneath you, the vibration of it sending waves of pleasure from your core all the way up your spine, your tail trashing and curling while he slurps up your slick arousal like it’s warm honey. It’s like he’s making out with your clit at one point and you can’t help but hump against his puckered lips. You throw your head back when he begins to suck rather harshly, his spine curving and twisting uncomfortably to meet your needs, but he couldn’t care less in this moment.
Normally he’s all teeth and bite, fangs grazing your skin and nipping on the inside of your thighs, sinking into your soft flesh until glossy, wet bite marks indent. Teasing you whenever you struggled to cover them up, and on some days, gladly taking a fight with Ao’nung once your loincloth moves around too much and your big brothers gaze lands on the faint marks on your inner thigh, claiming you to the forest boy that was playing with you like you’re nothing but a little doll. (Oh, how the table had turned…)
But right now he’s messy, filthy and sloppy and eating you out like he was starving. Flat nose pressed hard against your clit, he switched between tongue-fucking you and lapping at your clit, sucking the little bundle of nerves like he’s aiming to make you pass out.
"Yes, fuck, there– right there!"
Lo‘ak hums in acknowledgement, and then you give a last, sharp cry, hips jerking down against his face as you fall apart on top of him. Between your thighs, you feel him groan and curse and you hear the downright obscene slurping, like he enjoys drowning in your sweet juices. You stay put for as long as your body allows, floating in the endorphin high of the long awaited orgasm you had chased and been denied for weeks now, until your legs begin to tremble and the kitten licks to your clit start to feel a little overwhelming.
Lo‘ak draws in a shuddering breath as soon as he was able to, and it turns into a moan halfway through as your hand was back on his hair, fingertips digging into his scalp as you slowly lift yourself up from his now glistening face. With an equally heaving chest, the both of you look into each others eyes for a moment, panting heavily to catch your breaths.
But while your breathing slowly evens, his seems to turn more rapid. Glancing over your shoulder, your met with a sight that almost makes you feel pity if it wouldn’t look so damn hot.
His cock had leaked so much pre-cum, a small puddle had formed where he laid against his lower stomach, twitching to the rhythm of his heartbeat, the tip an angry color of purple from being edged and then completely ignored, neglected of any touch and further stimulation.
"Please", Lo‘ak heaves in a breathless whisper and you thought there was more to come, but that’s all he seemed to be capable of anymore.
Your orgasm had already drained you to the point that you felt like molten wax, limbs still twitching with the aftershocks, yet you don’t hesitate to scoot back down and straddle his lap with a glint of determination in your eyes.
It’s him who then throws his head back with a loud groan, every muscles of his body tensing, because suddenly, and too fast for him to prepare himself, you line his cock up with your slick entrance and slam yourself down, swallowing all of his length to the base.
"F-Fu-ck", Lo‘ak chokes out, once you sit on him properly, your own body weight and gravity pulling you down further than he thought was even possible, until you were nestled snugly against him, clit kissing his pubic bone. It makes him physically shudder.
"Oh t-thank you! Fuck– thank you. You feel so good, so good", Lo‘ak wheezes, and his cock throbs vividly inside you.
Instead of a verbal response, you decide to let your body do all the talking now. Starting with a pace that he least expected now, you’re moving your hips hard and fast— lifting yourself up and down on Lo‘aks cock and spilling moans that he feels deep to his core. His cock almost slips out each time, before you’re slamming your whole body back down, turning yourself into an equally moaning and whimpering mess.
Below you, Lo‘ak‘s eyes are squeezed shut and his toes curl at the feeling of your tight heat swallowing him over and over again. But even closed, you can clearly see the tears soaking his lashes. He’s so close that it hurts, but it’s a good kind of pain. One, he hopes will finally grant him the orgasm he’s been clinging to like his life depended on it.
"Look", you then tell him. Like the good boy that he was, he slowly forced his eyes open, before you grab his chin with your thumb and index finger and direct his gaze to where your pussy greedily swallows him, stretched around his girth like a little sleeve made just for him to use.
"I am- Fuck! I am looking", he sobs, "You’re g-gonna make me come— please don’t stop! Please!"
Lo‘ak wants to jerk up into you so badly. He wants to break free, flip you over and pound into you, relishing in the way that his hip bones would leave marks from how hard he would thrust into you. He wants to make you cry out his name, scream it for the whole village to hear, so everyone would know that the chief’s spoiled little brat was currently getting all her holes stuffed full to the brim by the outcast.
The sounds you knocked out of his throat were a mixture of groans and whimpers, moans so shamelessly loud, whenever his dick knocked on your cervix like an iron hammer, that it made even himself blush.
He’s close, you could feel it. You hear it in the strain of his voice as he whimpers whatever incoherent stuff comes to his fucked out and fried brain by now.
But you’re close too. And by the great mother if you don’t make this a challenge into coming before he does, just to get your payback…
Making your hips come to an abrupt halt, you stay down against his pelvis, only rotating your hips in circles now, while switching the direction randomly.
"Oh eywa, please", he cries out", Please you– you- I can’t. I can’t take it anymore! Need to come, please move!"
But you continue to grind yourself against him, and Lo’ak feels your cunt pulse, but it’s not nearly enough. With your clit dragging against his skin, you slump forward against his chest and your whole body goes rigid with a shuddering gasp.
Lo‘ak is shuddering, broken sobs and whimpers leaving his parted lips as he begs for you to keep moving, his hips raising up and chasing the friction of your thrusts to return to him. It’s damn near torture- feeling your warm, velvety-like walls squeeze his cock, while you stay completely unmoving on top of him, coming undone without a care for him and his needs.
"C-Coming, I’m coming!", you moan into his ear, your arms encircling his neck and hold him tight as you shamelessly use him to make yourself finish.
And that’s it.
The friction alone and your barely there movements are hardly enough, would normally get him nowhere close, but as sensitive as he was right now they’re enough to make his whole body spam as he finally, finally, thank eywa, comes.
His cock is still buried deep inside your rhythmically-pulsing cunt, pumping rope after rope of his cum inside you as he sobs into the coock of your neck. Soft whimpers of thank you, thank you, thank you are muffled against your skin and it feels like forever and he’s still coming.
"That’s it, just like that. Hmm, m'feeling so warm inside", you coo softly into his ear, your voice laced with a giggle as you feel his cum seep out of your slick entrance, "You’re coming so much. What a good boy you are, filling me up like that. There you go, paskalin, don’t hold back."
You’re not entirely sure Lo‘ak even hears you by that point, but you still keep up the reassurance anyway as you carry on, determined to milk him dry. Your pelvis flexes and your walls seem to massage his cock, squeezing him empty to the last drop until another sob breaks free and tears roll down his face.
Allowing him a moment to catch his breath and collect himself, your soft hands run up and down his chest and then a sigh of incredible relief leaves his lips. It’s enough of a go-ahead for you to finally move, much to his disappointment.
Lo‘aks brows are furrows together lightly, watching with parted lips as his cock slips out of you in the process of getting up and rearranging your clothes. His tail sways lazily, softly tapping against the sand while he patiently waits for you to untie him.
It takes him a moment longer than he would like to admit, before he realizes that this is not happening the way he thought it would.
Reaching for his loincloth, you toss the piece of fabric and also his knife in its sheath next to him. Just barely near enough that he could reach it. Then, and with the biggest, smuggest grin on your face, you untie just one of his wrists.
"You can set yourself free, right?", you ask, but both of you know that’s it’s meant rhetorically. Regardless, your words don’t help ease the sudden tension in his shoulders and the way he looks at you like a lost puppy, utterly confused. His mind was seemingly struggling to understand what was happening, still dizzy from the most intense orgasm he’s ever experienced. It was no surprise to neither of you, that he was a little short of words as he laid there, limp and spent.
Still, you shoot him a playful wink, before turning on your heels to return to the village, leaving him there like a used toy. Looking back over your shoulder one last time, you wave at him and giggle,
"See you later, my spoiled little brat."
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sugoi-and-spice · 3 months
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Vox Relationship Headcanons
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Time to strike the iron while the hyperfixation is HOT!
(I mean come ON . Look at this fucking evil dork. I love him).
SFW
It goes without saying that Vox is HUGE on appearances. He does not make his relationships public lightly. His brand as one of the V’s after all is perfection, and he’s not going to go out arm and arm with a person unless they know that.
That being said, especially given his on again off again relationship with Valentino, I could absolutely see him as being the type to fall for a hot mess. 
A very different person with his partner in front of and behind the scenes. When the cameras are off, he’s warm, affectionate, and vulnerable. He’ll share his every insecurity with you, strip himself bare to the bone for you to love and comfort truly and honestly. And he’s an excellent listener too, always available to hold and talk through any problem you have. Your problems are his problems — you’ll work through them together.
When in the public eye however, he can be a downright prick — putting everything, and I do mean everything between you two on the backburner to keep up appearances. He will not hesitate to make jokes at your expense if it means his ratings will go up.
Fights with him are explosive. No, he’s not the type to lay a hand on you, but we’d be lying if we didn’t admit that he can scream at you within an inch of your life.
Words of Affirmation and Gift Giving are his primary love languages. Specifically, he needs words of affirmation and he loves to give gifts. And holy shit does he give the most uncomfortably lavish gifts. Diamonds, rolexes, new cars — no price is too high for his darling.
Surprisingly, he prefers home dates. Watching a movie on the couch or having a little game night with a bottle of wine. He does genuinely enjoy the authentic time you spend together and he wishes he could have more of it, so the more he can get of that private, intimate time together, the better.
And while he is a man of the future, so theoretically should like video games, I do think he has a certain soft spot for a good old-fashioned board game.
When it comes to video games though, he does tend to gravitate to phone games. 
Vox is from the 1950’s so I do think he prefers a more nuclear family and relationship dynamic. He wants to bring home the bacon and have his partner ready to fry it up in a pan with a dirty martini ready and waiting for him. That being said, he is a man that always looks to the future as well, so he’s by no means above doing chores of his own. At the end of the day, this desire for more traditional relationship roles really comes from a place of needing to be doted on rather than any views he actually has about gender.
The man’s a sucker for a good massage from his partner. This wired up workaholic has knots that you can’t even imagine, so please, offer him a nice bankrupt at the end of the day. He’ll be sure to return the favor tenfold.
A very lovey-dovey drunk. Oh my GOD, he’s so touchy-feely and weepy and just all the y’s. You want a guaranteed cuddle-wuddle session? Load him up with a couple glasses of scotch — you’ll have those chords coiling around you.
And yes, his alcohol of choice is scotch. Scotch, dirty martinis, or a nice oaky chardonnay.
This man wants to get married. Yes, even if he is in hell, the idea of not having to worry about who his next lay or source of connection will come from, having someone that will stand by his side through thick and thin, a partner? Now that’d be the (after)life.
NSFW
BIG fucking praise kink. This man NEEDS you to stroke more than just his bod and his cock, he needs you to stroke his ego too.
“God you’re so good”, “FUCK, you’re so big”, “Nobody can make me feel this way but you, Vox”.
Don’t worry, it’s not just for his own ego. He loves to give praise as much as he receives it. This man is a TALKER in the sack.
“Fuck, fuck yeah. Just like that, baby. You’re so fucking good, just like thaaaaat.”
He’s also got a little bit of a degradation kink — but in general, it still feeds into stroking his own ego. Loves to tease and taunt his partner once in a while about what a horny little slut they are, how he loves to see them so desperate and pathetic. Asking his partner, “you’d have anyone right now, wouldn’t you?” just for them to assure him that no, nobody but him will do.
On that note, the man can dish out degrading dirty talk, but he can NOT fucking take it.
Very much a switch. Sure, he loves to fuck, but he’ll just as happily let his partner bend him over his own desk and fuck the shit out of him. A good orgasm is a good orgasm, his ego may be big, but not big enough to get in the way of that.
Big fan of bondage, both on his partner and himself. There are few sights better to him than seeing his partner bound and shibari’d in his own cord and wires, holy shit. But he’ll also never say no when his partner breaks out their own pair of fuzzy handcuffs for him.
He absolutely short-circuits when he cums, so watch out. Sometimes, if he cums hard enough, he may just zap you a bit so watch out.
Favorite position is seated cowgirl. He loves the way he can hold his partner close while ramming as deep into them as possible. Not to mention the fact that either one of them can take over control at any moment. He can thrust up, they can grind down — it’s just the best of all worlds. Not to mention you can do it from his desk chair.
On that note, he’s a big BIG fan of cockwarming. 
LOTS of precum. This HD motherfucker is just a weepy mess.
I can’t explain why, but Vox just seems like an ass man to me.
He’s not necessarily a cuddler after, but he is something of a “savor the moment” kind of guy. He likes to lay in bed (or chair lol) with his partner for a good while afterwards, smoking a cigarette, reveling in some post-nut clarity conversation, just really taking in the moment. His life is so busy at all other times honestly, always looing and speeding to the future. Sex and post-sex are the times where he really does just like to stop and live in the moment.
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shaguro · 4 months
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♡ imagine eren as your boyfriend... ♡
sfw
eren is obsessed with everything about you and he doesn’t hide it, the whole world needs to know how much he loves you. sometimes you may even think he’s being dramatic (to be fair the man is dramatic as fuck) but he’ll assure you everytime that this is truly how he feels and he’ll remind you every chance he gets. "i mean it, baby. don’t know what i’d do without you, you mean everything to me."
to add to that last point, one of his love languages are words of affirmation, both ways! eren is all about praising you; whether it’s about how beautiful you are or how he loves how you love him, it’s gonna happen. he literally never shuts up. “look at you, my pretty baby.” “i love you so much, you know that, right?”
as much as eren acts like he doesn’t care for it to be reciprocated, he does. he needs that validation from you, he always wants to hear how much you love him and what a good boyfriend he is. (just stroking his ego)
the definition of wearing your heart on your sleeve. he's very open about his feelings and he wants you to feel comfortable as well. he doesn't want any secrets between the two of you. he wants to be the only person you confide in.
p o s s e s i v e. i really dont think i need to explain further, y'all know how eren gets.
clingy as fuck. he’s kissing on you and cuddling with you every chance he gets, you can’t escape this man! he’s always got a hand on your titty or coochie, not even in a sexual way. he just “wants to be as close to you as possible.” and if you push him away, he’s taking that shit so personally. "eren, leave me alone." “why’re you acting like that, baby? what i do this time?"
will definitely make you an authorized user on his card so you can get whatever you want, even when he isn’t there ❤️ this man really spoils you, like whatever you want, it's yours and he always pays for your hair and nails, loves sending you styles and designs that he finds on pinterest. (don’t worry he only knows abt the app bc of you)
flirts with you in the corniest way possible, like the worst pickup lines ever. eren is just really playful in general. lots of smacks on the ass and tickle fights with him.
he loves being the little spoon but he’ll never admit it. he just gives you a weird look when you try to squeeze in front of him; like girl if you don’t get behind me. 🙄
loves to argue for no reason and it’s always the pettiest, most trivial shit. you’re convinced he does it because he just wants attention. (he does.)
he loves playing songs for you on his guitar, sometimes he’ll have you sit on his lap while he hums the tune in your ear, the soft melody filling the room.
lovessss late night car rides. both of yall phones on dnd, just enjoying each others company. throw in some food and good music, a lil liquor n weed? a time will be had. (because eren is an eater)
he loves planning dates but he also loves being spontaneous with them. you could be relaxing and you’ll get a text from him like “get ready babe. ima pick you up in an hour.” and you’re like boy what??
nsfw
heated arguments with him always leads into intense, passionate sex. i’m talking yall fucking for hours and hours. (eren definitely does this on purpose, it's like a reward to his weird ass)
loves every position, he's just happy to be there but if he had to choose, it would definitely be backshots. like your ass bouncing off his pelvis, his tattooed hands on your neck, how tight your pussy squeezes him? he can't get enough of the view and how it feels.
eren loves eating pussy but he loves how you tug on his hair and moan his name even more. he gets drunk off your taste and the way he groans into your pussy, you would think you were pleasuring him.
choke him and he’ll definitely nut quick. he can’t help it, there’s something about your hands on his neck that makes him go crazy.
always keeps your nails done because he loves seeing your hands wrapped around his dick. keeps your toes done because he loves having them in his mouth. 🤭
dom but will sub for you if you ask. it may not happen super often because eren likes being in control but could you imagine him whining and writhing under you? it gets to the point that he’ll beg. “pleaseplease let me cum baby, f-fuck. feels so fucking g-good.”
praise kink, he wants to hear all those pretty moans and he wants you to tell him how good it feels, how good he’s making you feel. “uh-uh don’t get shy now, wanna hear you mama.””who got you creaming like this, hmm? tell me.”
he’s really a whiner/moaner but when he’s really worked up, he’s a talker too and it’s always nasty. “taking this dick so well baby, doing so good f’me.” “pussy so fuckin' pretty, so wet for me... hmm, gonna fill you up baby. gonna give you all this nut."
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the hoe house: @rintcrous @honeybleed @90ekz @kaegetsmewetter @loccka6 @zuriayan @bey0nseh @tishlvr @chile-im-embarrassed @charbunxxi @black-yn
join the hoe house here. ♡
@/hoesluvshanti, 2023. do not copy, steal or repost my content without permission.
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metal-mouse · 1 year
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Because You're Mine
pairing: Ominis Gaunt x f!MC (m/f pairing)
themes: smut. troping tropeily. ye olde patch him up and then bang him.
warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. p in v. unprotected sex. fingering. horrendous pull out game. possessive!Ominis. someone threatens to dose you with a love potion. blood. mentions of violence. everyone is aged up.
summary: 3.9k word count. You are most surprised to see Ominis Gaunt return to you with a broken nose and a black eye from a fight. He's being awfully cryptic about who he got into a fight with, until you've finished healing him and he confesses why he's so upset.
note: Had a dream about this recently and decided to share it as a treat and also sometimes the best way to break through writer's block is to lean on the tropiest of tropes. Come get y'all juice. left MC house as ambiguous - I'm very Slytherin coded my b. i take liberties on what kind of undergarments they wear. Not an ounce of editing to be found.
@anto-pops @localravenclaw look guys i finished it
You didn’t look up from your book as the door to the Room of Requirement groaned open. There were only two people who knew of this room besides you, and as Professor Weasley hadn’t stepped foot in it since your fifth year, that left only one person. 
“Hello Ominis.” You called out your greeting, nearing the end of the page. He didn’t respond, which made you look up. You dropped the book and sat up straight at the sight of him. His cheeks were pink, there was a gash on the bridge of his nose which was steadily dripping blood, and one of his eyes was beginning to swell shut. Worry filled you, as your mind went to all of the worst case scenarios for what could have caused this. You stood up and hurried towards him, urging him to sit down on the sofa you had just been occupying. 
“Hello.” He said finally, in a dejected voice. 
“Are you alright?” You asked, a table appearing next to you with a bowl of water and some cloths. You very gently took his jaw in your hands as you tilted his head up to inspect his wounds. The cut on his nose was deep, and now that you were up close you could see his nose was slightly crooked. His pain was very evident, and his frown likely wasn’t making it any better. 
“I’m wonderful, thank you for asking.” Ominis hissed as you turned his head to get a better look at his eye. You were fairly certain his cheekbone wasn’t broken, which was more than you could say for his poor nose. 
“What happened?” You asked, ignoring his irritated sarcasm. If anything, it only suggested to you that he was fine beyond the wounds on his face and possibly a bruised ego. You weren’t sure if you had the skill to repair his nose. In the last year, you’d taken to spending more time in the hospital wing with Nurse Blainey. You’d assisted her during a detention once, and she had been more than happy to show you some of the healing arts. You knew the spell… perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to try? 
“I got into a fight.” He said, skirting around your question. 
“Well, obviously. I would love some detail, if you’re willing to provide. When Sebastian comes around all beat up like this it makes sense, but you mostly keep your hands to yourself,” You said while taking one of the cloths and gently pressing it to his nose, “hold that. I’m out of wiggenweld, I’m going to brew some.” His hand replaced yours as he held the cloth to staunch the blood dripping from his nose. You looked down at his uniform. His shirt and tie were covered in blood.
“Is detail truly important? I was in a fight, and now I’m here.” Ominis’ voice was muffled from the cloth. You poured some water into the cauldron atop your potions station. He was usually very open with you, content to tell you all of his deepest thoughts. Somewhere deep in your mind you wondered if this fight had somehow been caused by you. He had gone to Hogsmeade today with Sebastian, and Rookwood’s Ashwinders still tried to prey on you. You prepared your Horklump juice and Dittany leaves, waiting for the water in the cauldron to begin bubbling. It was strange that he would keep something like that from you, even if he didn’t want you to worry. 
“It’s clearly bothering you a lot, Ominis.” You said softly. He made an angry noise and didn’t respond. Now that the cauldron was bubbling, you added the ingredients and stirred the correct amount of times. You turned away to let it brew until it was ready, and returned to Ominis’ side. You wordlessly took the cloth from him and pulled it aside. It was drenched in blood, but it had mostly stopped the bleeding coming from both his nostrils and the gash on the bridge of his nose. 
“Ouch!” He hissed as you reached up and gently poked at his nose. 
“Stay still. It’s broken. Does anything else hurt?” You mumbled, climbing into his lap and holding his face steady with one hand. You fumbled for your wand, and he let out a little panicked breath and shook his head a little.
“What are you doing?” He asked, his good eye widening slightly.
“The Wiggenweld can’t straighten a broken nose. Don’t move. Episkey!” You said. He yelped as his nose cracked back into its normal position and the gash healed. You nodded in approval, pleased that the spell had worked. You’d never cast it beyond Nurse Blainey’s watchful eye. 
“There. I bet you can breathe a little better now.” You said, removing yourself from his lap to check on your potion. Ominis took a long, very audible breath. You watched him as he reached up and felt his nose. He looked absolutely miserable. Your lips pressed together in a frown, it was worrying how little information he was willing to divulge. 
“Have you seen Sebastian?” He asked. 
“No, I thought he was with you.” You said, scooping some of your completed wiggenweld potion into a glass. Anxiety briefly pulsed in your chest, worrying that whoever had attacked Ominis had also gotten Sebastian. No. He wouldn’t have come to you unless he knew Sebastian was safe. 
“He never met me. Must be with Violet.” He snorted, sounding absolutely furious with his friend. You tilted your head, making a small sound of agreement. Violet McDowell was Sebastian’s particular flavour this week after you’d forbidden him from asking Poppy Sweeting on a date. You had promised him swift and painful retribution if he had even looked at Poppy without the intent of marrying her and loving her forever. 
“Here. Drink this.” You said, handing Ominis the glass full of wiggenweld. You crouched in front of him, a hand on his knee balancing him as he drank. The bruising around his eye faded, and he sighed with relief as he set down the now empty glass. You stayed crouched before him, your fingers drumming on his knee as a sign that you would love an explanation. 
“You really can’t just let it go?” He asked. 
“I’m sorry, I’m worried. It’s frightening when you get hurt.” You squeezed his knee a little. He let out a little sight, his frown softening.
“No, please don’t apologize. It should be me apologizing, I can see how someone arriving covered in blood would be worrying - especially for you.” He put his hand over yours. You stood then, setting your wand to the side as you settled down beside him. 
“If you really don’t want to tell me what happened, please just tell me if this is going to be a recurring problem.” You said in compromise, taking his hand again. He looked deep in thought, clearly battling with his inner thoughts.
“I heard two sixth-years plotting about how they were going to slip you a love potion.” Ominis said finally. You blinked in surprise. Out of everything that could have come out of his mouth, that had been the one you least expected. 
“A love potion?” You echoed. He nodded, and you admired the rage on his face. He’d fought two boys purely because they wanted to give you a love potion. You fought the smile spreading on your lips. For someone who was awfully composed, he was certainly prone to his jealous moments. 
“Yes. A love potion. They’re lucky I haven’t gone directly to the Headmaster. I should have them both expelled.” He sneered. Your face went hot at the arrogance in his voice. You leaned in, loosening his bloody tie and tossing it to the side.
“You’re covered in blood.” You informed him. He wasn’t really listening to you at all, instead he was caught up in his own rage. You took that opportunity to unbutton his shirt so you could remove it and try to clean the blood off. 
“Foolish, impudent worms. Gryffindors always think they’re entitled to that which is not theirs.” He pulled his arms out of the sleeves when you tugged on his shirt. He may not have been paying attention to you, but you were hanging onto his every word. That which is not theirs? That statement certainly held some heavy implications. You were grateful he’d stepped in of course, love potions were risky and you did prefer to make your own decisions.
 Ominis continued his monologue, describing precisely what he had done to the Gryffindor boys for their crime. You took a clean cloth and dampened it to wipe the blood off his neck and chest. He’d been exceptionally cruel to the boys, and every word he spoke had your heart beating faster. It was becoming difficult to pay attention to your cleaning. He’d taken their threat personally, and had essentially destroyed them for it. Broken their wands, hanging them upside down from a tree, blackened eyes, he had truly done a number on them. Out of your little trio he was widely regarded as the most peaceful, with Sebastian being the most violence-prone and you falling somewhere between the two. He was incredibly protective of you, something you’d discovered even when your friendship had only just begun to bloom. 
His hand closed around your wrist suddenly, and you realized you had stopped moving. You looked at his face, his hair was a mess, his cheeks were still pink, and he held an expression you’d never seen before. You were suddenly desperate to break the silence. His other hand lifted to your cheek, his fingers delicately tracing along your jawline. 
“They can’t have you.” He whispered, his fingers moved down your neck slowly. Your breath hitched at this display of possessive intimacy that you had never seen before. You and Ominis had your fair share of intimate moments, but this? Never anything like this. This was an entirely new side to him. It was something you’d expect of Sebastian, the man who moped over girls he’d barely been involved with for longer than a week, but never Ominis. You didn’t know what to say. When you had first crossed that border between friendship and something more, it had been relatively laid back. You went for walks together, bought each other sweets and butterbeers from Hogsmeade, and spent late nights in each other’s arms in the Room of Requirement or the Undercroft. This change was almost as unexpected as its impact on you. You knew deep down that this should not be making you so aroused.  
“Where has thi–'' You were cut off when Ominis leaned in and kissed you. You dropped the cloth from your hand as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you onto his lap. You draped one arm behind his neck, and rested the palm of your other on his cheek with your fingers in his hair as you matched his passion. It wasn’t rough, so much as it was claiming. His cold hands pressed against the skin of your back making you gasp and arch against him. He took this opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue moving so sinfully your core was steadily aching now. You knew precisely what that tongue was capable of, and you’d grown to anticipate it. Dream about it even. 
His rapidly warming fingers stroked your sides as he brought them under your front and withdrew them from your shirt entirely. As Ominis began to unbutton your shirt, you began to lightly rock your hips to create some friction between you and the bulge in his trousers. He let out a low groan and proceeded to rip your shirt open. Your eyes snapped open as you sat back a little bit in surprise, but he pulled you back against him with a single tug of your shirt. His hands went to your chest, and he let out a dark laugh against your mouth when he felt only skin. You weren’t wearing anything under your shirt. His mouth lowered and he left hot, wet kisses and little nips down your jaw and onto your neck. You couldn’t contain the small moans and gasps that tumbled from your lips. 
Ominis’ tongue ran along your collar, and his hands roamed to your backside where he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up more. The hand you had in his hair shot to the back of the sofa to brace yourself. You cried out as he bit down on the side of your breast. His tongue delicately swiped out licking the hurt he’d just caused. He held you up with one arm, his other hand running along your backside and between your legs. The fabric of your trousers was disappointingly thick, and you felt far too constrained while wearing them. His hand moved to cup your breast as he swirled his tongue over your sensitive nipple. He stopped suddenly, his hands falling to your waist as he pushed you back slightly. 
“Take off your trousers.” He commanded. The bark in his voice sent a wave of heat to your core. You stood up, fumbling with the buttons before finally pushing them down. He reached out and made a sound of displeasure when his hands ran over your underwear. He hooked his thumbs in the waistline and yanked them down. You stepped out of your trousers and undergarments, and Ominis checked to make sure you’d done precisely what he had wanted. He made no move to remove his trousers. You stared at his bulge desperate to see him undressed. It wasn’t fair that you were now bare in front of him, and he was still half-dressed. 
“I want to taste you.” You pleaded in an attempt to get him to take his trousers off. 
“As reluctant as I am to deny you, don’t you think you’ve taken enough care of me today?” Ominis’ lips twisted into an arrogant smile, as he turned you around and pulled you back. You fell into his lap. One of his arms looped around you pulling you back against his chest. His lips pressed to your neck, leaving kisses and small bites all along the smooth column. He pushed your legs open wide, biting down hard on the flesh of your shoulder. You cried out, your eyes squeezing shut at the pleasurable pain. One hand ran along the inside of your thigh, and the other stayed planted on your belly. 
“Those fools think they could have this. That they could have what is mine.” His breath was hot on your neck. You whined as his hand stroking your thigh got closer and closer to where you wanted it. 
“Please Ominis.” You complained when his fingers brushed next to your wet and aching center but he didn’t touch it. Your lip curled, two could play at this game. You began to rotate your hips slowly, grinding down on the bulge in his pants. Your hands covered his and you moved them to where you wanted them to be. One between your legs on your heat, the other cupping your breast. He huffed out a laugh.
“Eager, aren’t we?” He chided. 
“I thought you wanted to prove I’m yours.” Now this spurred him on. Without warning he curled two fingers inside of you. Your back arched as you let out a gasp and Ominis began to pump his long fingers deep inside of you, ensuring the heel of his palm pressed against your clit while he worked. While his fingers curled against your sweet spot, you shamelessly rutted against his palm to elevate you even higher into ecstasy. 
“Is that better, darling?” He asked, nibbling on the back of your ear. 
“Uh huh.” You moaned, nodding your head. You wished you could kiss him. You wanted to face him and have him buried deep inside of you. You would have turned around if this didn’t feel so fucking good. There was something about him being in complete control and doing what he wanted with you. You weren’t even tied up, yet you felt useless to do anything to pleasure him beyond grinding against his bulge. There was a tantalizing pressure building inside of you, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer. Ominis seemed to have realized as he pressed further into you and his fingers kept up the exact same pace. Your head fell back against his shoulder, his free hand coming up to wrap around your throat. 
“Right there?” He asked. You nodded against him, unable to form a coherent thought. You writhed against him, pressing his palm hard against your clit. Your eyes squeezed shut as you fell over the edge and bolts of pleasure made your toes curl. You let out a sinful scream that may have been his name. Ominis didn’t stop, letting you ride out your orgasm on his hand until your knees clamped together and he withdrew. You were a panting mess as he gently guided you to lay on your back. You heard the sound of his belt hitting the ground, and you opened your eyes and watched him pull down his trousers. You moaned at the sight of his cock springing free, delightfully pink and large. 
Ominis knelt on the couch between your knees, lowering himself over you. Impatient and greedy, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to press your lips to his. You were hungry for him, your tongue swiping over his bottom lip prompting him to open up for you. You were certain the way he tasted would stay with you for the rest of your life, so damn sweet and addicting. Reaching down, you gently wrapped your hand around his cock and lined it with your entrance. Slowly, Ominis pressed into you with a low moan. You were distracted from your kiss at the feeling of his cock filling you up. He always went slow when he started, knowing it drove you crazy. Once he was sheathed fully inside of you, he stayed completely still aside from the hand that laced in your hair lifting your head again to press a sweet kiss against your lips. 
“I’ve always been yours.” You whispered as his forehead rested against yours. His eyes snapped open at this, his fingers curling so he was pulling your hair. He ground into you, and you choked on a moan. Ominis pulled out nearly all the way and slammed back into you with a husky groan. He hooked his free arm behind your knee, pushing your leg up and out of the way as he settled into a slow and steady rhythm. 
“Of course you have. I fit s-so perfectly, it’s like you were made for me.” The little stammer in his sentence made your heart flutter. You gasped when Ominis rolled his hips forward deepening his thrusts. Your nails scraped across his shoulders as your mind was overtaken by pleasure and thoughts of him. The moans and small praises that came as a steady stream from his mouth paired with his cock hitting every angle inside of you had you on a high you didn’t think possible. 
You arched your back in an attempt to let him deeper inside of you. Despite being connected at your most intimate part, you wanted more. You wanted inside of his heart, inside of his soul. Through your pleasure, you opened your eyes to look upon his face. His eyes were heavy-lidded with pleasure, his mouth hung open and his skin completely flushed, his hair an absolute mess. You loved it. Without warning, Ominis picked up the pace slamming into you without restraint. You dug your fingernails into his shoulders now, forcing him down to kiss you. His arms wrapped around your waist arching your back even further and changing the angle which he fucked into you. Between the feeling of his lips on yours, and his cock inside your already sensitive cunt, you were rapidly tumbling towards another orgasm. When Ominis took one hand from under you and reached down to rub circles on your swollen clit, your head fell back.
“Come.” Ominis ordered, and you didn’t even have it in you to scream this time. Ominis muttered a string of curse words as your walls clenched around him and you rose up to clamp your teeth down on his shoulder. It was almost painful how hard he had made you come, and some primal part of you needed him to share in that feeling. He kept his steady pace, not faltering once as he chased his own pleasure with a great moan. The hand that had been rubbing you clamped around your neck and squeezed. You watched him and saw in his face he was close. You met his thrusts, matching his rhythm. His chest heaved and a light sheen of sweat had formed across his body. In that moment you were certain that it wouldn’t matter if someone gave you a love potion, Ominis was all you’d be able to see. 
“Yours, Ominis.” You whispered, incapable of telling him truly what you were thinking. His fingers dug into you and his grip on your neck tightened. Almost there. You watched in awe as his head dropped and he let out a guttural groan that slightly resembled your name. His cock twitched and his body trembled as he emptied himself inside of you with shallow thrusts. Ominis’ hand let go of your throat, and he collapsed on top of you. Both of you were breathing heavily, and you wrapped your arms around him holding him tight to your chest. You pressed kisses to the top of his head and he let out a wordless groan. After a few moments passed, Ominis slowly pulled out leaving you feeling empty.
“We should have conjured a bed.” He mumbled. You let out a little laugh as one appeared next to the sofa. Ominis rolled over, taking you with him so that you were laying on his chest instead of him atop of you. You knew that you should get up and probably clean yourself off, but with his arms around you and your genuine concern about your ability to stand, you were content to just stay. 
“Maybe you should get into more fights.” You sighed, reveling in the lovely feelings of your afterglow. He laughed, gently rubbing your back.
“If men don’t learn how to behave, I just might.” He said. You could do without him getting injured, but if this was how he reacted when he was jealous or feeling possessive? You could definitely get behind that. 
“I’ll be here when you do.” You sighed, thinking about how you should really restock on your wiggenweld potions. 
“And, for the foreseeable future, I will be tasting your food and drink before you.” Ominis said, making you snort. 
“What am I, the Queen of England? I don’t need a food taster, Ominis, if anything I’ll just start carrying around an antidote to love potions.” You told him.
“You can be my Queen.” He grinned at you.
“You’re not allowed to speak with Sebastian anymore, he’s rubbing off on you.” You sat up a little bit to get a better angle as you looked down at his face. 
“That’s your job, Darling.” 
“My point has been proven.” You smiled widely at the sound of his laughter. When you were with Ominis is when you were happiest. You were safe, comfortable, and content. You were in love, and you were his.
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bone-and-butterflies · 10 months
Text
How to hide plot twists from both your readers and your characters in a way that is not frustrating or annoying.
So I was watching a book review for a book that I liked but both loved and hated some of the plot twists. Of course this got me thinking about plot twists and why they work for both readers and the characters that are falling for these plot twists.
Readers
The key is to control the information that your readers have. Your readers aren't going to consider an option unless (1) that twist is really common for your genre and that reader has read that genre a lot and will therefore be expecting it or (2) you have very obviously given them the specific information nessesary to unintentionally figure out the twist before the characters.
Why does this information stand out, you may be wondering. It is because there is nothing else going on to distract away from a piece of information that can seem meaningless with the right context.
Most of the time, if you're not writing a very specific plot line with a very specific genre, your reader isn't going to immediately know where the plot is going so they may not be looking out for the information relevant to a later plot twist, so as long as you justify an informational choice that explains a later plot twist in a way that covers a variety of basis, they're probably not going to pick up on the one piece you left out, aka what is going to make this twist fun.
This piece of information should be something small and unassuming. It can be magical, but if you're writing fantasy that magic has to be hidden really really well. I find that a plot twist works the best when the piece of information that is missing is something you wouldn't really think about, like the reason a prince was able to infiltrate a prison and hide his identity was because he had his cousin standing in for him and we don't know that this cousin existed and knew the limits of that world's magic (this is actually a plot twist that fooled me btw despite how obvious at sounds now).
A good plot twist that fools the reader relies on twisting the information that the reader has and therefore twisting how they think the story will go.
Midway sidenote: not every plot twist needs to exist to fool both the reader and the character, sometimes it is really fun to watch a character fail because of something inherent to that character.
Characters
Remember how I said sometimes it's really fun to watch a character fail. That only works sometimes.
It is more annoying to figure out a plot twist that is really obvious and then have the character miss it because the author said so.
So how does a writer pull this off?
Be intentional. Have an idea in mind of when you want the reader to figure it out and ask your beta readers when they figured out your plot twists to control that as much as you can.
Your character does not know which genre they're in, so you have to both get inside the character's head and take the reader along with you so they understand why this character is making these poor choices and missing the most obvious villain in the room.
Why would a character miss a plot twist?
They are distracted or delusional. Characters have goals and they may ignore their better judgments to achieve these goals based on their personality. Put more emphasis on your character's motives to hide information that may make plot twists more obvious. Also, your characters may use information about their world to explain their motives and this information may also be vital to understanding a later plot twist
The average person does not go around thinking everybody around them is out to get them especially if those people seem incapable of that through the pov character's ego or the other character's demeanor. If your character has known somebody for a really long time or knows a piece of information that is vital to the worldview they're probably not going to immediately discard it. Fun fact: in the real world, when people have their views disputed, even with very good evidence, it can make them more likely to hold on to that old belief.
Expectation of harm. Different characters have different experiences with shape how bad they think things can get. For example, if a character has never experienced something, they may not know what can lead to that thing. (FYI older characters are more likely to know more things so be careful with this one.)
The Twist
For a twist to work, it must make sense with both real world and in world knowledge as well as common sense, so keep this in mind as you plan.
Conclusion
This isn't comprehensive because good plot twists require a lot of information to make them work and that's makes them very specific. While I would love to explain why different plot twists work, part of them working is them fooling you and hindsight bias is kind of a thing.
Keep writing. If a plot twist just isn't working either scrap it or let it sit until you have the information to build reasons why it should work.
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hana-no-seiiki · 1 month
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Hi! Could I be ✨Anon? (Im not sure whats been taken already) I've been on a big Batfam kick these past few days and have a v indulgent request if it interests you.
Could I request something for a (gn) civilian reader who is friends w/ the Batfam, but recently got superpowers that are magical girl-esque? Neither of the parties knowing of the others Alter Egos. Here are some of my thought, but write the post however you'd like.
Reader was accidentally caught up in some commotion that involved stealing specialty cargo. One of them being an alien artifact, and reader uses it in desperation to save themselves. But now they have these sparkely, pretty, and showy powers that they never asked for. (And maybe a magical animal companion that insist they bring light and justice to Gotham)
Reader is reluctant to be a vigilante, but keeps finding themselves in situations to help people anyways.(Maybe its a side effect of being a magical girl) They end up fighting alongside the Batfam at some point, but they feel embarrassed to interact w/ them. Reader feels completely out of place with their colorful and over-the-top powers when next to the cool and brooding batfam.
Sorry if this idea is a bit out there, but ty for letting me be indulgent in your ask box 💕!!
NO CAUSE I FEEL THIS DYNAMIC SO MUCH.
I either have the friendliest vibe or the bitchiest vibe and no in between. Meaning that people either come to me for everything or think I’m a snob/will bite-
and sure non! i don’t really keep track of my anons nowadays so people can be whatever as long as it’s not listed in my pinned
BAT X MAGIC ✨
IN ANY CASE
I’m gonna mix Sailor Moon, Miraculous Ladybug and Onimai for my inspo with this ask if you don’t mind
Magical Girl/Boy/Person! Reader is really close friends with Tim and Damian. If there was one thing all three could agree on it’s that they loved superheroes in manga/comics.
And Reader? Boy did they adore the Batfam. There was just something about their dark, brooding aesthetic that they couldn’t get enough of.
So it was a tad bit ironic that they stumbled upon the most “girly”and “bright” power ever known to Gotham.
It didn’t help that your abilities had to be activated with cutely yelling things like “Sparkle Blast!” or “Smile Hurricane!”
I like to headcannon that you have a familiar or Kwami like creature that in exchange of keeping your identity magically hidden, absolutely bullies you by making the one above a requirement.
I headcannon that Damian has the PHATTEST crush on you. Like even moreso than the stalker, otaku Tim. Like he is just head over heels. You’re strong, you’re capable, you’re adorable?? But that mostly extends to just your magic persona rather than your real self. He’s super obvious about it to anyone but you too (similar to the og miraculous ladybug w/ felix instead of chat).
Tim is more interested on who tf you were. Like yes!!! Magical Person Hero!!! You were basically his childhood crushes incarnate!! But his inquisitive mind really needed to know who you were in order to calm himself down.
Jason is honestly a bit overwhelmed by your whole getup, but grows to love you the most in terms of how kind you are and how you help them even in the most dire of situations (not knowing that you were basically forced to)
He’s very much Tuxedo Mask type wherein he’d be very annoying to you when the disguises are off but an absolute Casanova with em on.
You and Dick are the most close when it comes to patrols and fighting. I feel like you, being the big fan you were, would make him look even more flashy and handsome during battle with sparkles and whatnot. I have a feeling he’d be the first to ask you out or fully romance you, as well as be the first to befriend you/contact you as a vigilante.
Bruce is definitely perplexed by how you always evade him in terms of your secret identity. It frustrates him to no end that whenever he gets close to finding out something either gets in his way or his mind just goes blank.
Once you explain how your magical persona works tho he’s pretty quick on the bandwagon, especially since he sees that his boys love you.
Also cause you look way too adorable to really be heinous.
…Right?
Once you break one of your familiar’s rules though, they do share your identity with the bats and well…
All hell breaks loose.
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theapangea · 11 months
Text
Think You Can Handle It?
Characters/ Pairings: Lip Gallagher x Fem!Reader
Summary: You are about to touch Lip Gallagher’s dick, maybe there really is a God.
Words: 2.8k
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI!!!, hand job, blow job, swallowing, unprotected p in v, choking, hair pulling, gagging, female and male receiving, rough sex
A/N: I was blushing the WHOLE time I was writing this so that’s your warning lol. Hope you like it you little pervs ;)) I am trying to get better at writing smut so pls be nice! All mistakes are mine.
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It wasn’t unusual for you to aimlessly walk into the Gallagher house. There were people always coming and going so they rarely locked the front door. And even when it is locked, like this time, the backdoor is kept open. 
The house is quiet when you open the door, a weird phenomenon that only happens once in a blue moon. Looking around through the entry ways to see if anyone is in the living room before making your way up the stairs. You can hear the hum of music from the far end of the hallway. A smile creeps onto your face as the Gallagher you are here to see is the only one home.
Lucky you.
Opening the door to the boys’ room, his head lifting from his textbook to see your cheeky smile staring back at him.
“What are you doing here?” Lip’s monotone voice echoes from the top bunk, a small hit to your ego.
“I’m borrreddd,” you whine, elongating the words. “So I’m here to bother you.” Your fingers graze along the wooden ladder as your other hand pushes the door shut. The locking sound clicks through the room. 
“Well don’t. ’ve got homework to do.” The annoyance in his voice is radiating.
Ignoring his command to leave as you are here for one thing and Phillip Gallagher is the only person that can help you out. Your eyes follow the dozens of posters that line the walls, head bobbing slightly to the music that fills the room, fingers trail against any object they can touch. 
Lip follows your every movement as you make a half circle around the room, only to disappear under his bed, just out of sight. Which, quite frankly, annoys the shit out of him. 
Sighing as he climbs down his bunk. “Can you stop snooping?” His chest lightly hits your back as his fingers graze yours, yanking the action figure that you held in your hand. 
His tone is soul crushing but his touch is euphoric, wishing it lingered just a bit longer. And as fast as he touched you, the faster he disappeared, tossing the toy in some unknown direction. 
Your mouth opens as you plan to say some snarky comment that will most likely make him laugh but when you turn around the only thing you can notice is his shirtless figure standing right in front of you- the messy bed head, the sleepy smile, the sheer fabric of his blue boxers, standing in between your eyesight and his cock. And boy was there something big begging to get out of those tight little shorts.
Definitely makes a girl have wild thoughts. And did those thoughts not want to be kept in.
Licking your dry lips as you tilt your head to the side, “You look like you have a big dick.”
He laughs, clearly caught off guard by your statement, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” It’s almost as though your tiny comment gives him some sort of ego boost as he stands straighter, puffing his chest out, the tent in his boxers growing more.
“That’s why I said something, dummy.” One of the few nicknames you have for him, rolling your eyes, “Look I know we’re supposed to hate each other and all but I have to admit that I find you really hot.” You’re unable to hold any sort of eye contact with him, shifting between his crotch area and a poster behind him. 
His eyes darken as he listens to your confession, “Wow I’m flattered,” The cockiness in his voice is thick, “You wouldn’t be able to handle me anyways,” winking at you.
The arrogance in his tone sends a shiver down your shine, a wet spot starting to form in your core. The comment really sends your dirty thoughts into overdrive, “So it is big huh?” Crossing your arms, having to physically stop yourself from showing any kind of enjoyment from this conversation.
“I don’t really like to toot my own horn, sweetheart.” One of the few nicknames he has for you, rolling your eyes as a quick response.
But you couldn’t help yourself but wonder if he was being honest or not. If The Lip Gallagher actually had a big dick or if it was just something all the girls were lying about. But they couldn’t all be lying, right?
“So can I see it?” You ask innocently, your gaze following along his silhouette.
He ponders the question for a second, contemplating the pros and cons of what could happen if you see his dick. In this case, the pros heavily outweigh the cons. Shrugging his shoulders before hooking his thumbs underneath the hem of his boxers and pulling them to the ground. His cock graciously bouncing in all of its glory as he stands back up.
Eyes wide as his member stands proud and tall right in front of you. The soft skin, pink head, pulsing veins, glistening wet pre-cum leaking from the slit makes it hard for you to look away. Definitely bigger than you thought it was going to be, not that you would admit that you pictured it one too many times. 
“Is it what you expected?” He questions, snapping you back to reality. Though you did miss thinking about how nice it would feel deep inside of you.
“I’d say better.” You barely get the sentence out as it bops slightly up and down.
The tension in the small room is thick and growing. You both stand there, not saying a word, not breaking eye contact unless it’s you sneaking another peek at his throbbing cock. 
“Can I touch it?” You speak softly, your voice barely audible above the music.
“Are you ready for that, princess?” Yet another nickname but instead of being annoyed, it was actually turning you on. The itching feeling between your legs is spreading through your body, shifting weight from one foot to another, anything to suppress the feeling for just a split second.
Nodding your head in response, your eyes big and doe-like. A quick nod from him signaling for you to approach. You can barely move at first, your legs locking from the heat growing in your core. 
You are about to touch Lip Gallagher’s dick, maybe there really is a God.
Taking a couple of short steps to close the distance between the two of you. The hot air of your breaths mixing together as you stare into his piercing blue eyes. Shaking slightly as your fingers graze the delicate top skin, wrapping the rest of your hand around his shaft. A short gasp spills from Lip’s mouth as you begin to stroke the silky skin from the base to the tip, squeezing gentling as you push back down his length. Feeling it grow against your palm, not believing that it can actually get any bigger.
Lip watches as you stroke his erection, barely able to speak. He’s had many handjobs in his years but something about how delicate you are being with him, the hints of innocence and curiosity as you hold his member in your hands. Something that is turning him on more than anything else in his whole life.
“So do you think you can handle it?” He asks as you lift your head, inches away from his face.
Choking on your words, “I'll definitely try.” 
Chuckling at your response before placing his rough hands on your cheeks, pulling you in for a kiss, the hint of cheap beer and cigarettes fill your senses. Hand gripping tighter around his cock while Lip deepens the kiss. The soft moans vibrate against your lips as your hand starts to pump again, following your movement with his hips. 
His hands travels to the base of your neck, tangling his fingers in your hair while tugging at your bottom lip, begging for his tongue to be let in, the taste of beer only intensifies when his tongue dances with yours. His right hand moves down to the small of your back, pulling you towards him, your body’s needing to be close to each other. 
His lips only leaving yours as he sits down on the edge of the bed by the window, his left hand still tangled in your hair as he pulls you down to kneel in front of him, the rough carpet digging into your knees. Using his free hand to pump his aching cock, holding it straight between his thumb and middle finger as your head dips down, lips hovering over the soft pink tip. Fingers digging into his skin as they drag along his thighs, body thrusting up begging for you to finally wrap your lips around his length. Finally allowing him to release the built up tension.
Centimeters above his dick, the taste of pre-cum practically already on your tongue. Your spit falls from your mouth, hitting his raw tip as you use it to lubricate the rest of the shaft. 
Wrapping your lips around his manhood, flattening your tongue so it lays flat against the sensitive skin on the bottom, sending his body into ecstasy.
A sharp breath inhales from Lip as he stares intensely at your actions. Hands immediately release from you to grip the bed sheet, needing some form of stability as you begin to take his shaft fully into your mouth, only about half way before it becomes too much. Using one of your hands to help cater to the rest of the length that you couldn’t fit, squeezing, pulling, twisting the base as your head bobs faster on his cock. The pretty moans escaping Lip’s mouth as you suck him off.
Moving all of your hair to one side so he can get a better look at you giving him a blow job, “Fuck,” is the only thing he can manage to get out as he buckles his hips underneath you, your mouth pushing him into bliss.
Forcing yourself down more against his length, gagging as you try to take more and more down your throat. The scene increasingly becomes messier as saliva is spilling from your mouth, coating his cock in the liquid. His hands immediately pushing down on the back of your head, his hips thrusting upwards, moving back and forth slightly as you gag against him. His dominant demeanor overflows the pool that leaks through your panties. 
With one final thrust, holding a second longer in your throat before releasing you. A much needed breath filling your lungs as you wipe the remaining saliva from your chin, mouth sore from his size. His hands instantly on your face again, his thumbs wiping away the tears that have steamed down your cheeks. His eyes are softer now, concern written all over his face as he examines you.
A small smile peaks through the messy strands of hair that fall in front of your face as you continue to catch your breath. His laugh rings in your ears as he realizes you are fine. Grabbing your hand, tugging light, signaling for you to stand back up with him. Once on your feet, his hands start to roam your body, pulling your old shirt over your head, exposing your bare breast to the warm, still air. 
Wrapping his arms around your waist, turning your bodies around with your back to the bed, lowering you down gently, his lips leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down your neck. Sucking hard against your collarbone, purple bruises surfacing. 
Arching as he continues his trail down your chest, catching your nipple in his mouth. Licking, nibbling at your delicate skin, moaning in satisfaction. The trail of kisses as he moves to your other breast, using his free hand to massage the one he’s not attending too. 
Sliding his hands down your sides, goosebumps surface from where he once was. Hooking his fingers in your shorts, pulling them and your panties off of your legs, helping him in the process. Rough hands stroking against your bare legs, bringing them up above his head so that your naked core is exposed. 
The dirty smirk and dark eyes weigh on his face. Breath heavy as you can feel your wetness seep out of you. 
Digging his fingers into your fragile skin as they grip the back of your knees, bending your legs and pushing them closer to your chest, holding you in a submission position. His gray blue eyes fixated on yours while he places a small kiss on your tender clit. The small action making your wiggle under his grasp, the whine dancing around the room. A smile residing on his face from sheer satisfaction. 
Catching your sensitive nub in his mouth, humming against your clit as your body jolts towards him. Sucking and licking your raw center as you grind against his tongue. Your breath skips as he continues. 
Whimpering when he stops, placing small kisses down your folds until he gets to your entrance, sticking his tongue in to get a better taste. Mouth hooking onto your folds as his tongue tries to move deeper into your dripping core. His nose settles against your delicate clit, sending a shooting electricity through your body. Fingers tangling in his blonde locks as you hold him in place as he brushes against your sweet spot.
The overwhelming sensation builds through your body, pumping your blood with sin as his cold tongue mixes with your juices. Arching your back, eyes closed as he continues on his feast. Your moans floating around the room as he eats your pussy, rough lips, cold tongue pushing you so close to the edge. Your thoughts on Lip, his dreaming smile, hard dick, heat growing in your core as he continues to hit your sensitive spot. Enjoying your delicious juices as you ride his face. Body jolting, legs buckling as he helps you over the edge into heaven, your mind cloudy as you cum all over his tongue. Lip licking the remaining juices that have spilled down your butt.
The smirk resides on his face as he knows he did a good job. Standing as one of his hands is still holding onto the back of your thigh and the other is situating his dick to the entrance of your core. His tip turns more red as he grazes lightly between your folds. Your moans mixing as the pain of him not being inside of you becomes too much to handle.
“Put it in already,” You plead, grabbing the back of his legs, hoping that would make it accidentally slip in. 
“Needy baby.”
The two little words could have made you cum again right then and there but before you could even process what was going on, his length suddenly shot into you, pushing forcefully through your entrance.
“Fuck -” he moans, “You are so fucking tight.” The buzz of pleasure overcoming the both of you. Pushing deeper inside of your folds, feeling the head going further and further into your pussy.
His left hand abandoning your thigh to let both of your legs rest upon his shoulders, taking his hand to your neck, the purple bruises from his kisses finally appearing, wrapping his fingers around your throat, squeezing the sides gently as he increases his speed. The heat rises as he continues pumping, toes curling, back arching as he fucks you. 
Your center continues to leak, lubricating his dick and dripping around his balls that slam into you. Leaning closer to you, your legs the only thing stopping the two of you being chest to chest. Catching your lips in a passionate, wet kiss. Wrapping his arms around your head, bringing you closer to him. Slamming away into your tight core, expanding the entrance over and over again.
His aching cock flexing inside of your walls, building pressure as he continues his movement, holding you extremely close, never wanting to let you go. His name falls out of your mouth as he pounds aggressively into you. 
Toes curling, leg shaking, buckling under the pier ecstasy as his rhythm is pushing you more and more towards the edge. The dam is about to break and you are unable to hold it back any longer. The wave of emotion as you cum on his dick. 
“Fuck,” his thrust becomes increasingly messier, “‘m gonna cum baby. Shallow?”
The tiny moan of confirmation was all you could get out. 
One final thrust before he quickly pulls out and steps back to allow you to drop to your knees, smashing them roughly into the carpet. Wrapping your lips around his swollen cock, sucking as the delicious, hot liquid coats your mouth and throat. Deep throating as much of his cock as you can, his hand tousled in your hair, holding you down. 
The sound of you choking on his cock and his euphoric moans fill the tiny room. Pulling back as you catch your breath, wiping the spit and semen from the corner of your mouth. 
Smiling widely up at Lip, “Told you I could handle it.”
~~~
So what do you think???
Requests are open <3
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ukrainian-psycho · 8 months
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Everyone hates the Ventrue calling them boring and insufferable with their grindset-mindset and while most of it is true, if you dig into the clan's culture there isn't much that makes them worse than other clans really, there's a lot of endearing qualities that also explain why are they stupid like this. So here's some of my favorite facts and bits of the in clan lore (some of these traditions are applicable for cammies or for those in the clan-clan, done with the Agoge etc; an anarch ventrue obv doesn't have to follow no rule).
Blood preference is made up. It's in their head. There were incidents of a ventrue changing their preference, takes a huge effort but nothing says you can’t. Many ancient ones perished because there's no more Yugoslavian blood or whatever and they couldn't get used to any other. The biggest problem of the Clan of Kings is that they all think they all have an imaginary lactose intolerance they absolutely will die for.
Unlike other clans who let their progeny run around doing fuck all you are responsible for your childe. Providing for them first time, teaching them to hunt, all that regardless if they want to go through the Agoge or join the clan. As a capital V Ventrue you have to respect their choice. Being a deadbeat sire is generally frowned upon.
Actually, everyone in the clan feels entitled to your childe. Any clan member has the right to show up on your doorstep whenever because they thought of something profound to say to the fledgling or give you an advice on how to mentor them. Turning them away is impolite. Absolutely insufferable.
When in a serious trouble you can always ask a fellow clans-mate for help and even if they hate your ass they have to help and do a good job at that lest they want to lose some dignitas. You are expected to return the favor obviously.
Deathnights! 🥳🎉🎉. The thought that any kindred care for birthdays (or deathnights, the time you were embraced) is already silly but the fact that it's ventrues who care about this so much is especially funny. Yeah you sire sucks, but she invited Paris Hilton and got you a new car for your sweet 160. If it's an elder's deathnight you can even rizz them and it's all in good fun!
The general opinion that your local venture is an e*lon m*usk type o guy and not a gas station manager doesn't help. In the digital era even the most powerful ventrue have to influence from the shadows which is quite a hit on their ego. Others settle for less.
They are the smallest clan. The key to survival is resilience and mutual support. Trust no one, not even the other ventrue but you know they've got your back because you've got theirs. Fucked up, however "familial" bonds like sire-childe and such are much valued.
Wholesome-ish, ventrue cliques. Many looove chess and have chess clubs. Both as a hobby and often preferring to solve personal disputes over a game. Then, Philosophes and Diplomats. The first one is just a bunch of an armchair philosophers. The other can be considered as "progressive" and want to build bridges with other clans and think the Camarilla needs to be more cooperative and inviting. The elders often snark at the "friendly ventrues" but at the end of the night it is the Diplomats they send out to represent the clan and do the talking and make peace with others. There's also a club for neonates just to bitch about their hard unlife without the restrictions of the etiquette. Btw look up the Olympian clique on your own lmao, I'm not even delving into that.
And to be fair, there's so much etiquette. You're being told what to wear, what to gift, how to act.
don't argue with those younger than you, embarrassing them in the act. Don't argue with elders because it's disrespectful. Don't argue with your peers because arguing is stupid. If someone really pissed you off please submit a request to your closest ventrue primogen and wait 15-20 business nights to be informed if you have a go at killing their ass. This is not a joke. Always show up as a united front at all times.
Be respectful and treat other clans as you would have wanted to be treated. Even if they are ugly, annoying, or unhinged. At the end of the night the inquisition will come for all of us.
The Agoge sucks. Everyone hates it. It fucks you up but complaining is for pussies so drink some cocained up blood or get a therapist like everybody else. Suck it up.
Crying in the boardroom is not allowed. No public display of emotions or feelings is allowed. The purpose of it is to minimize the amount of conflict between each other and other clans but it's the next best thing to Lasombra's catholic guilt in terms of repressing yourself.
Older ones have a hard time keeping up with technology, the concept of email is on par with other paranormal forces. The Board risks their unlives traveling to an in-person meeting to resolve something that could have been a 10 minute conference call. If you are a neonate who knows what a DVR is you've got quite some power.
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shunshunrika · 9 months
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GOJO SATORU - NSFW Alphabet!!
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
﹒↷﹒⟢ Would probably stay beside you and talk. Doesn't try to run around doing acts of service because he is just as exhausted as you are. Believes that discussing the experience after the deed is the foundation of a good relationship. Nah, as if. He just likes to lay down and calm down from his high while he eyes your boobs and your fucked out face. He does like to stroke you until you fall asleep though. If you satisfied him enough, he'll cook a nice breakfast for you the next day.
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B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
﹒↷﹒⟢ Yours: He likes your tits the most. They are squishy, they are soft, there's TWO of them. If he could stay in contact with your boobs forever 24/7, he'd do so. Small or huge, he loves his two cute little bundles of pleasure. Find him latching on quite frequently.
His: On himself, he likes his waist the most. His tiny, cinched waist, lined with rugged abs and a drool-worthy V-Line. A few tufts of his pubes showing through his underwear. What is there to not love about his waist? He knows the ladies wait for him to stretch so his shirt would ride up and they'd get a glance.
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C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
﹒↷﹒⟢ His secret innate technique is actually limitless cum. Cums so much, it's illegal. It's impossible. He just won't give up even when there's no sperm left to ejaculate xD. It's always creamy and clumpy though, a bit mild in flavor, slightly salty and glides easily on the tongue, not like the sticky kind. You love to swish it around your mouth. Has great bubble blowing potential too. You show Satoru sometimes and he watches on his amusement. When your mouth has more saliva than his cum, you finally swallow, content with your meal. You keep begging him for more to swallow though and usually, he'd happily oblige. His dick is now your personal pacifier.
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D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
﹒↷﹒⟢ He's definitely a pillow princess if you let him be and probably wants to get pegged. Has a thing for caring and protective people. He's so powerful, people think he's got to be dominant, both on the battlefield and in bed. But secretly, he just wants to lay back, get his dick and nips sucked, receive kisses along with lots of praise and probably get titties in his face when he's down. He's a baby boy through and through and usually hides that side of him. Find him sucking on your panties in secret and moaning "Y/N mommy"
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E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
﹒↷﹒⟢ He's probably very experienced. As of 2023, he's in his mid 30s, he's fuckinggg handsome, he's charismatic as shit - he gets a lot of women and it's no surprise. But it's hard for him to get attached to any of those women he's slept with. Yet, he definitely has a double-digit body count, closer to triple digit, do not make the mistake of believing he's a virgin or inexperienced and such. His experience and his ego of being the best makes him deliver outstandingly in bed though so, good for you!
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F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
﹒↷﹒⟢ Loves something where he can see your titties bounce up and down uncontrollably so he's a huge fan of cowgirl and the rocking horse position. Will make your tits all moist and musty with how much his warm gasps and sighs hit your skin. He loves to be as close to you as possible while also being comfortably deep inside your walls.
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G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
﹒↷﹒⟢ He is more often goofy than not, it's a major part of his personality. Very likely to make dumb jokes mid thrust or imitate your orgasm face after you recover from it. But that's only when the higher ups aren't pestering him. If he's had a particularly tiring day at work, he likes to keep the sex more serious and self-serving. He'd prefer he could just release all that pent up tension during sex and maybe if he's feeling better after that, he'd come back for cuddles or even a more enjoyable round 2.
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H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
﹒↷﹒⟢ He has a WHITE carpet. Let that sink in LOL. At first you thought it was weird because it oddly reminded you of old people and it spoiled his mood as well. So he choose to trim it down to a fuzz which looks peachy more than white now. So yeah, he's rather clean down there, hates the idea of too much hair. Sometimes you find a few long strands leftover under his balls while sucking him off though, and it always makes you groan. You've suggested Satoru to dye his pubes but the expression he made, made you take it back.
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I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
﹒↷﹒⟢ Well. I don't see him as a romantic kinda guy really. Sure, he'd caress you and kiss you a lot, but he's more of a talker than a toucher. Loves staring at you, right into your soul while he's making you squirt. Loves seeing your reactions to him - from something as innocent as blushing and something as lewd as your rolled back eyes. Sometimes, he'd blurt out some of the most philosophical quotes about romance after nutting though and it'd genuinely confuse you.
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J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
﹒↷﹒⟢ He doesn't jack off too often actually. He used to do it every other day when he was a teen though, using gravure magazines. But now that he has you to help him out, he rarely does it. Only when he's away from you for weeks, does he feel the need to wank off to one of his memories of your bum. Sometimes wonders if he should leave his cum as is on one of the restroom walls of the jujutsu schools but decides against it.
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K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
﹒↷﹒⟢ Definitely, praise kink. Loves to be praise. Sometimes gives praise but mostly likes receiving it more. Also definitely has a lingerie fetish. Loves it when you dress in frilly, expensive lingerie that he bought for you while you rut against his expensive dress pants. Honestly, he might be into exhibitionism and voyeurism as well. Has thought about watching you get fucked by his male friends on multiple occasions even though emotionally, he's a possessive person. Oh and mommy kink. for sure. As well as dacrophilia.
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L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
﹒↷﹒⟢ OK. Probably, his go to is the balcony. I don't know, something about fucking on the balcony of a sky-rise, overlooking the city he protects while the stars shine on you and the miniscule cars rush by below really, really turns him on. Other than that, he loves his shower fucks and maybe once or twice, a demon took over him and he fucked you outside the apartment, right against the door. Because he was that desperate and drunk for your pussy. You let him though because you enjoy the thrill - of being seen when Gojo Satoru's dick is locked in your ass.
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M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
﹒↷﹒⟢ What turns him on is a good mood. Whenever he's happy or feeling positive, he also gets horny af. Whenever there's a win or he feels accomplished, the first thought that crosses his mind is "Would be nice if I can deepthroat Y/N right now." Other than that, tight clothing on you really turns him on - the spillage specifically. He loves that he has a soft pouch of fat on you that he can squish while he's fucking the living daylights out of you. He also becomes a beast when you compliment him and the way he fucks.
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N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
﹒↷﹒⟢ He doesn't like extreme stuff so he's probably not into all of that - things like excretion fetish, blood play etc. Also likely not into being called a daddy. It's not something he associates with his image and personality. He'd rather call you mommy though. Loves to dom you though and might accept a 'sir' instead of a daddy. Probably not that much into anal as well because it grosses him out - what if he gets shit on his dick?! One of his biggest turn offs is when people disrespect him. Hates derogatory talk, even if it's during sex. He likes to keep it playful yet dignified.
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O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
﹒↷﹒⟢ He is probably quite decent at giving oral. An orgasm is almost always guaranteed after a few minutes of his tongue play. He loves to receive it. His dick is really sensitive, and he loves it when you put your mouth to play on it. Prefers it over penetration or hand jobs actually, but on you, he prefers to finger you - and his fingering skills are out of this world. The ring and middle finger combined, create magic.
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P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
﹒↷﹒⟢ I'd peg him as a slow but rough guy. He isn't in a hurry so he goes at comfortable pace. That being said, he's really strong so every thrust of his is lick being jabbed with a hammer. He goes deep too. Usually likes to pin your arms down, position himself so his dick goes in in a curved trajectory, and he keeps his speed sensually and sickeningly slow. It gets you so slimy though, his dick is practically playing slip and slide inside you within minutes. On a few occasions though, he'd choose to go faster but shallower - that's mostly when you argue and he's pissed. Then you get further pissed because you aren't creaming anymore.
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Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
﹒↷﹒⟢ It is a frequent occurence and specifically happens before his meetings with higher ups. He needs so much mental fortitude to deal with them, he needs a quick fuck right before he enters the meeting room. He'd probably pin you to the wall of Jujutusu tech's shitty bathroom and pound into you from behind, cumming inside and making you keep it till nightfall so he can come see it leak out of you. The high gives him enough joy to meet those geezers with a smile, knowing he gets more pussy than they ever dreamt of having.
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R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
﹒↷﹒⟢ I'd say he's willing to try everything once. If he doesn't like it, he doesn't like it. But he will try it atleast once.
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S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
﹒↷﹒⟢ Oh, he can go. Has a lot of stamina. It's you who doesn't have enough stamina and gives up after round 3 or 4. He doesn't last like exceptionally long, but he can go for multiple rounds so it doesn't bother you. Plus the intensity of each session is so high, you are crumbling after a few go's. You especially lose it when he goes mating press on you, your thighs are sure to cramp up.
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T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
﹒↷﹒⟢ Is a huge supporter of vibrators. Loves to use it on you, loves when you use it on him. He often wonders why humans don't naturally have the ability to vibrate - it'd add so much value to life! would prod you for hours with a vibrator, bringing you close to an orgasm then snatching it away. Would also love vibrating cock rings as they make him tense up and throw his head back in pleasure.
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U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
﹒↷﹒⟢ 10/10 a tease. BIG tease. Unfair game 100/10. He's a fucking MENACE. Would probably tease you till you start crying. Would tease you about EVERYTHING. the way you moan, the way you are a ho for him, the way your eyes sparkle when he suggests he's in the mood. strongly believes orgasm denial improves the quality of sex and will test this theory unannounced making you almost slap him on several occasions. Even out of sex, he's always slapping your butt or groping your hips in public or around the house, while he's eating a donut, or passes you coincidentally while grocery shopping or when you're cooking.
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V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
﹒↷﹒⟢ I see him as a whimperer. No he's definitely a whimperer and moaner. Groans aren't a thing with him. Sometimes you question who's domming if you're the one under him and he's whimpering in your ear while thrusting hard. You see the loudest whimpers when you're biting and sucking his nipples though - apparently, he's really sensitive over there. He'd not care if anyone, upstairs or downstairs listens in - he's happy if they know he has a healthy sex life. He's also rather shrill with his moans sometimes and you wonder if he's competing with you.
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W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
﹒↷﹒⟢ "Ah shit, I'm cumming again." Satoru says.
"Do it, Let it all out. You need it anyway." you whimper as you feel him pounding into you from behind. You are so immersed in your thoughts and pleasure that you don't even notice the dirtied tiles of the bathroom you both are cramped up in. Satoru has his pants lowered a tad bit so he can let his dick free and thrust into you at an angry pace.
"Those old farts. They think they run this world." He said in between thrusts as he pulled at your ponytail. "And they think they can rule over me, when they need me for even killing a flea."
"You're so better than all of them Toru!" you gasp, feeling the delicious pull on your hair as you let your eyes roll back. "Fuck all of them!"
"Hell yeah!" Satoru yelled out, his voice echoing off the grimy walls. "I am the best, indeed!"
"Say it again, babe!" he asks, voice excited as he slaps your ass. You wonder how many people can hear you moan and cry out for him. "Shit, I wish the geezers could see us right now, do you think I should record this and give them a heart attack!"
"Ew I don't want those gross men to see me naked!" you reply, turning back and pouting at him.
"HAhaha. fair enough. ah, shit-" his voice catches all of a sudden as he stiffens up and you feel a warm liquid fill you up as you close your eyes.
"Shit." he says, pulling out his limp dick and zipping up. "Keep that all in for me, princess." he says, caressing the skin of your ass.
"When I come back tonight to eat you out, I'll tell you all about how I messed with those geezers!" Satoru says with a wink before deserting the bathroom and heading to an important meeting.
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X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
﹒↷﹒⟢ Hmm. I'd give him some credit and say he's a good 7 inches when he's hard. Has a rather slender wee-wee with a larger, pointier head. Has a pale cock that is adorned by some of that peachy fuzz at the base. Has HUMONGOUS balls that sag. When his dick is aroused, it's a pretty coral-peachy shade. His dick has a slight curve to it, pointing upwards.
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Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
﹒↷﹒⟢ It was high before, it is still rather high now. He's still like a teenager sometimes. "Y/N, let's do it!!!" "Y/N, you look so hot, sit on me!" "Y/N, Wanna fuck? ;)" he's just so fucking cute. He's gotten more mature over the years though. Sex is no longer an everyday event, but surely once in three days. Some months of the year though, his libido is off the roof, and he's going at it with you multiple times a day, everyday. You believe soon when you start trying for a baby, he'd fuck you more.
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Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
﹒↷﹒⟢ Stays awake and only sleeps after you do. Surprise surprise. Although he seems like someone who'd fall asleep right after, he'd actually care and stay awake and look after you for a bit and only then go to sleep - even if he's drowsy and tired as fuck.
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peterspinkrobe · 9 months
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Miguel, Noir, Peter B x A new spider recruit (F)
Rating/Tags: M for MATURE. 18+. Adult content henceforth. 🔞Three p’s and one v. P in V. Fellatio. Some spanks. Assplay (no anal penetration). Voyeurism. Light bondage. Cunnilingus. Overstimulation (it’s 3 v 1 y’all idk what else is expected). Bodily fluids. Dirty talk makes up most of the dialogue. The dudes do some stuff too. ❤️ Aftercare ❤️ one shot
A/N: I got the prompt from this tweet and wanted to give back to the artist who requested it. There is Spanish in this fic - the artist helped me with the translations soooo much as well and I am forever grateful.😭 English translations at the end. This is my first smut piece, okay? So go easy on me. There is a smidge of plot if you’re really looking for it - I know I put it somewhere around here…
Summary: New recruit for the Spider Society finds herself in a sticky situation with three mentor spideys.
Word Count: 4,660
I’m gonna stfu now and let you read some filth. As always, let me know what you think and thanks for reading.
A dim, neon orange glow emitted from various screens in the large office. Sounds of connecting flesh and obscenities bounce off the walls and echo towards the high ceilings. The new recruit for the elite Spider Society found herself tangled in a particularly intense training that definitely wasn’t in the recruit handbook.
This particular lady spider, from her own universe, traveled through space and time to become a better protector of her neighborhood. She wasn’t sure how these exercises could possibly translate into her line of work saving lives, but she knew exactly how she’d gotten into this position. Well, one of many she’d already been put into.
It was her silly quips. The downfall of most in the Spider Society. The new spider showed a lot of progress in the short time they’d been recruited and had been tasked to go on a mission with the big boys.
It was easy work, the more matured spiders swinging and kicking ass effortlessly. Their personalities shown through in their fighting styles
Peter was loud about it. Of course. Screaming war cries and hitting hard, but holding back. Using insults to hit ‘em where it really hurts a villain: their ego. Miguel seemed cat-like, pouncing and clawing. An occasional roar of frustration would burst through his gritted fangs. Noir was stealthy, and silently snuck up on unsuspecting suspects. His dialect from past times confused the new spider more than Miguel’s Spanish, but it sounded ‘snazzy’ either way.
After wrapping up the mission, the four of them exchanged normal post-fight banter. It was one phrase that made the men stop in their attacks:
I could take all three of you at once.
She’d inadvertently added a qualification to her spoken resume and they were putting it to the test.
The room spun around the dizzy spider trying to steady herself on the large couch cushions. It was in vain, though, for she wasn't going anywhere the hands on her body didn’t make her go. She was stuffed and didn’t think she could hold anything else inside her. Even air. She resorted to the shallow gasps that her body involuntarily released in brief moments of reprieve and breathing through her nose when possible. She moans a string of different names barely recognizable through the mumbling and spit coming out her mouth. Not to mention Peter B’s cock slipping between her lips, a lazy, languid pump into her mouth as his hand caresses her hair. He’d pull out when she tapped on his thigh twice or he wanted to see the strands of saliva droop from his swollen tip connecting to her puffy lips.
“Hey,” Peter’s voice is sweet in juxtaposition to their lewd position, “look at me”. His other hand cupped her chin and pulled her face to look up at him. His slender fingers moving to the side of her face, rubbing his thumb on her cheek. His baby blues watching as her face pushes into his palm from the force behind her.
“Our little spider looks so good like this, doesn’t she?” Peter B was a talker in bed. Duh. The man was a talker in general. His words, no matter how filthy, came out casual and playful. “Taking the both of us so well in her pretty holes.” The vulgarity mixed with the free and easy tone made her pussy squeeze around Miguel’s cock, causing a quick strike on her bent over ass. The stinging cheek was immediately pawed by his large hands.
“Mhmm..” Miguel grunted, not much for words in the bedroom. His sexual language involved less talking and more touching, spanking, and grabbing. “Está apretadito…riquísimo…” When he did speak, he slipped into his native tongue because his mind slipped too. No time for translation as he drove himself into her, hands grabbing her hips. “me vuelves loco” he panted.
His large hands grabbed her ass, making her moan again up at Peter. He thumbs her wet folds and grips tightly - watching as she stretched out on his thick dick with each thrust of his hips. One of his thumbs ghosts across her other puckered hole, rubbing her own slick across the tight entrance.
“Te voy a comer ese culo.” Before she can form any sort of protest, Miguel pulls out without warning. The sudden emptiness made her clench on air and push back against him as a complaint. His hands never left her body and he let her push herself back onto his tongue. She cried out in surprise and pleasure as Miguel hardened his tongue and licked into her dripping pussy. The tongue was quickly replaced by two calloused fingers that pumped and spread inside her already fucked out cunt. His lips latched around the tight pucker of her ass, tongue swirling. Her breathing ragged as the little spider moaned against the bushel of hair above Peter’s still long cock. All she could do was press her face against his belly and arch her back.
“Ooooh, no, you don’t get to have all the fun, Miggy.” Peter chuckled, fucking chuckled down at her as he continued petting her hair. He slipped his thumb into her mouth and he smiled sweetly when she wrapped her lips around the finger. She couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out her throat as she slobbered on his inquisitive thumb that rubbed the inside of her cheek.
The mouth attached to her released only to growl against her sticky flesh, “Shut up, Peter.”
The giggle upset Miguel; here he was eating ass and she was paying more attention to the skinny nerd at her front. He added another finger and grazed his sharp teeth against the sensitive skin. Shivers shot up her spine and she rolled her eyes in pleasure and annoyance.
Only one coherent thought formed in her hazed mind: the grown ass man we’re even competitive in the bedroom.
Peter didn’t shut up.
“Hey, Noir,” Peter casually tossed the words to the side but kept his gaze on the flushed face and closed eyes that pressed against him. His heavy lidded gaze grazed along the curvy body beneath him as the spider in training rode Miguel’s tongue. He brushed away sweaty strands stuck to her forehead so he could see her pretty lashes. “You ever gonna get in on this? Or are you just going to keep watching from over there?”
Shame had almost escaped the woman stuck between getting rocked and a hard place. She’d taken the tip of the chatterbox’s cock back into her mouth and that silenced him momentarily.
She looked over at the black-clad figure she’d almost forgotten with her lips pouting over the redden head of his friend. He hadn’t made a sound this entire time. Embarrassment eked into her already flushed cheeks as she imagined what a scandalous sight she was to the spider from days gone by.
The man seated on the chair opposite the couch was dangling his arms over bent knees. Noir was still masked, one of the few Spidermen to actually try and maintain a secret identity, and the charcoal colored mask looked from one end of her to the other. He was staring intently at her face at one point, the protruding eye sections reflecting their bodies moving on the couch.
Noir then approached the spread spider and adjusted the protruding lenses of his masked eyes as if they were gasses. His head tilted in intrigue as he heard the deplorable slurping sounds from both ends of her body.
He brings his head to hers, Peter’s cock is inches from his face but he ignores it to intently watch the way her lips wrap around the other Spider-Man’s fingers.
“How ya doin’, buttercup?” His husky voice breathes into her ear. She can’t muster a response other than a shaky nod of her bobbing head and sputters of mewls. The swiping of Miguel’s tongue and approving praise from Peter took up too much of her mind space to formulate any sort of actual reply.
Noir sighed, almost like he was unsatisfied with the reply. He stood and put his hands on hips.
“Fellas… call me old fashioned, but” he glanced at the two men who seemingly ignored the grayscale spider’s intrusion, “You’re both doing this wrong if you’re really tryin’ to shake the shingles off this shack.”
The weird wording made the bundle of naked spiders freeze and lift an eyebrow in unison. Miguel pulled away from her ass and pussy and Peter did the same with the fingers in her mouth. She would’ve buckled had she not been pancaked.
“What the hell do you mean I’m doing this wrong?” Miguel and Peter both responded, offended. The breathless spider couldn’t see the exchange of winks and grins that happened because they were still smushed against Peter’s tummy.
“Hands, legs.” Noir instructed and the trapped spider found themselves pulled up and pressed firmly against Miguel’s chest with their hands clasped together. His large hand grabbed her ankle, a single claw grazing the thin skin there. Another muscled arm snaked around her waist and held her. His strong back supported their bodies against the plush arm of the couch.
She groaned when she realized Peter had slipped a web shooter on and had used them to hold her hands together. Another quick spurt from the smirking man made her arms stick loosely to her chest, just in case. He was always so careful.
But she didn’t mind being confined as long as someone would fucking touch her.
A tiny yelp makes Peter giggle in his relaxed position sitting on the couch head propped against the wall- taking a momentarily step back, but not taking his eyes off the spider caught up in their web.
Noir had snuck in front of her and had his face inches from hers. When Miguel felt her flinch in his grip he huffed a chuckle.
“You both were forgetting to press buttons.” Noir’s fingers cupped the underside of her exposed tits and he flicked his gloved thumbs over her nipples. He was maneuvering skillfully around the bound limbs.
More moans came out, she was finally getting these new set of hands on her. He went to pull up his mask and she kept her eyes glued to his face to finally see what he looked like.
Slate-gray skin was beginning to peek from the curling of the mask, but he shined a wicked gray and pearly white grin when he kept the mask just above his nose. He’d only exposed his jawline and lips, but it was enough to make the little spider’s breath hitch.
His unmasked mouth wrapped around one of her perked nipples and kept pinching the other between his fingers. The gentle sucking sounds made her quiver.
Noir then moved so he was crouched right between her legs, covered eyes taking in the sight of her drip. She noticed his passionate gaze even behind the mask and spread her legs to allow a better view. This earned a grunt in her ear from Miguel who pressed his still hard cock into her back, a soft coo from Peter watching who continued petting her hair, and an approving smile from the striking inky gradient enigma of a man before her.
“Oh, what a piece of honey…” Noir continued in his near century old slang. He took a gloved finger and ran it along the gooey length of her folds, the delicious stripe of friction on her pussy lips made her buck her hips. He stuck the wet finger in his mouth and sucked the leather. “Taste good, sweet spider. Makes me wanna take a bite out of your pretty donut.”
Her eyes roll back at the flattery and Noir speaks again, addressing the two other men, “You forgot a crucial component, pals… the rose bud.”
His tongue instantly found the flower he mentioned and she saw stars. Her clit had been untouched at this point. Not that everything up to this point hadn’t been fucking amazing, but the way the skillful mouth below her expertly tongued and suckled her neglected clitoris made her writhe and wail in ecstasy.
Thank god Lyla had been disconnected because there could be no recording of the blubbering mess the tasty spider became with Noir’s mouth attached to her pussy.
With all the teasing, pounding, and sucking beforehand, the stimulation of the bud of nerves between her legs brought her close to the edge within moments. Noir looked back up at her face and his tongue poked out his sinful smile. He could tell by the way she started thrashing in Miguel’s hold that she was about to crack her marbles. He lapped at her drooling pussy eagerly.
Miguel hissed through gritted teeth at his painfully hard cock. He situated his large body by squatting on the leg closest to the corner of the couch while the other planted firmly on the ground. He grabbed himself and lined it up with the flailing spider in his arm. His other hand came from its grip around her ankle just to grip on her hip. “Fuck, hold still.” Miguel’s tip pushed against her trying to find the spider’s slick slit. It grazed Noir’s chin and neck but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he grabbed Miguel’s dick and guided it into that sticky honey pot. He focused more on the clit as Miguel pumped inside her. Miguel’s moans were loud in her ear with the combined sensation of the tight wetness and Noir’s tongue ghosting the top and sides of his driving dick.
Peter watched in awe, his mouth agape at the alluring sight below him. His hand had a hard hold around the base of his cock, as he squeezed more precum seeped out his blushed tip. He moaned at the sight of Miguel’s cock drilling into the tight pussy and the sounds from the fucked spider as Noir’s mouth encased her clit. Much like Noir, Peter’s tingles were telling him she was close.
“You want to cum for us? You should…” Peter asked and suggested in his playful tone. His oral affixation was apparent as he thumbed the inside of her mouth again. “You’ve been such a good girl.”
“Quiero que te vengas en mi verga, arñita”, Miguel grumbled into her ear.
“Mmhmmm.” Noir tried to concur, but his mouth was a little busy. The vibration of his voice against her clit and all three men urging her brought her to that high place.
She cried out their names in no particular order just whatever came out first. She gyrated her shaking body down on Miguel’s pounding cock and Noir’s tongue. Miguel’s movements became feverish causing Noir to pull back, giving her clit some space to breathe after the oral abuse. Peter moved his hand to Miguel’s hair and pulled his head back to look at his face, reminding him to go easy on that pretty push. It was hard for he was nearing his own orgasm, but he slowed to a more delicate pace. The convulsion of her cumming cunt around his cock was too good to pull out of just yet, but Noir spoke out breathlessly.
“I gotta get a taste of this cookie, boss.” He pleaded with the man who currently had her in his grasp. She should’ve hated how they were talking like she wasn’t there at times but she was riding her high and couldn’t be bothered to bicker. She stared through half-lidded, glazed over eyes as Noir pawed the tent in his pants.
“Did you stretch her out for me?” Noir asked as he undid his pants buckle and released a grayish cock as long as Peter’s and as thick as Miguel’s. She moaned as she was coming down from the clouds, eagerly wanting to try this new toy.
Miguel huffed and quickly wrapped his arms under her knees and lifted her effortlessly. His cock rudely pulled out of her and he spread her legs so that Noir could get a better view of the contracting, messy hole. Peter craned his neck so he could see as well.
“Such a pretty pussy…” he said to no one in particular from his perch. He had started pumping his cock as he watched her orgasm.
Noir admired the site up close and licked the fucked out hole causing the spider to shake. She was blushing from all the eyes and attention on her in her exposed state, but they were all looking in amazement.
She pouted and when Noir saw both sets of her puckered lips he wasted no time placing the thick tip of his uncut cock at the gaping entrance of her gooey hole.
“Now, sweetheart, you’re gonna have to tell me if it’s too much, but I think you can handle it. You’re going to do that again for me.” He pushed himself into her full flush easily with the help of Miguel’s propped arms holding her up. Her mouth formed a silent scream and she tossed her head back when he picked up the speed.
Miguel moaned and his still hard cock pressed against her ass cheeks in this position. “Que culo..” he mused as he slid his cock to line up with the wet folds of her cheeks. He started slowly fucking between her cheeks until his tip hit Noir’s pumping cock.
“Oh, fuuuck, baby girl..” Peter admired her body as he picked up the pace on his own strokes. “Can you take another? Please?”
He begged as he brought his cock back to her lips, biting his bottom lip hard and groaning when, instead of replying, she desperately took him into her mouth, eager to be completely full.
Peter thought he had the best seat in the house with his dick in her mouth and the sight of Noir and Miguel ravaging her body. He talked more and more as he got closer to cumming.
“You’re taking us so good. Such a good girl. You should see yourself. Look so sexy when you’re filled up.”
Noir kept his speed and force consistent when he surprised the spider again by rubbing his thumb just above her clit. He captured her lips with his own and she breathed her heavy moans into his mouth.
She was back to struggling for air with most of her holes plugged. Miguel’s thickness running between her legs offered a new feeling of friction while Noir’s length was taking some getting used to. Peter didn’t move his hips in caution of overwhelming the overloaded woman taking him in her mouth so well.
“Cum for me. Again.” He gently urged. The three other spiders all moaned in unison at Noir’s word for they were all on their brink. He chuckled, “all of you. Let’s fill this baby up.”
The idea of filling her pussy up with his load made Miguel’s hips snap quickly until he was spilling all over her ass, pussy lips, and leaking onto Noir. The thumb on her clit and the sounds of the man below her brought her back over the edge again. The pornographic imagery, sounds of a heated Miguel, the alluring control Noir had over them, and the split spider’s orgasms brought him to his own climax. He tried to pull out her mouth but she wrapped her lips around him tightly and he cried out as he came. He was talking again in seconds.
“Fuuuck, so sexy.. taking it all in like that.”
Noir took it all in with a grin. Feeling Miguel’s sipperly spunk mixing with the delicious drool he was driving into. A little bit of Peter B’s butter spilled out of the split spider’s mouth and Noir swiped at it with his gloved thumb before presenting it to her to suck on. The sounds only encouraged him to pump harder. “I wanna paint this cabin, doll. Can I?”
Noir tapped gently on the bundle of nerves that were on fire with the question, causing the spread spider to spaz in the hold of the three others.
The spent spider thought nothing, only felt. Sensation was the only presence in her consciousness as Miguel slid his slowly shrinking dick between her thighs and plump cheeks. Peter’s praise echoed from one ear to the other making her blush more than the promiscuous positions she’d been put in this evening.
He had her right where he wanted her - how he’d been picturing her since he met her for the first time: Whimpering and shaking on the verge of implosion.
Noir’s imagination painted an inky image of the next time with this ripe peach. His grayscale vision pictured them alone in all the ways he wanted her. The thought nearly made him burst and paint her insides instead.
Until he pulled out and jerked himself twice before cumming all over the spent spider’s tummy and tits. His audience of three all moaned with him as sticky ropes shot over the smooth skin of her abdomen.
Senseless spider still had her legs hiked up and she hung her head to the side towards Peter who was massaging her scalp and murmuring sweet nothings towards the group. Miguel’s heavy breathing was coming down as he gently lowered her onto the couch and easily slipped from behind her, regretting it the moment her body wasn't pressed against his own. Miguel used one of his claws and cut through Peter’s webbing and carefully pulled it from her, placing her arms by her sides.
Noir marveled at her in this state. Fucked out and smothered with lovin’. He helped Miguel lower her legs and eased their bent and spread joints. He rubbed along the length of her leg and said something to his boss unheard to the mewling spider on the couch.
They left the room shortly after, but she didn’t notice.
Only aware of the aching she felt… not from the intense session, those stings wouldn’t be felt until tomorrow, but from the emptiness inside her and lack of body support she had just moments ago. She had leaned on their strong scaffolding entirely and now slumped from their missing support. Peter’s hand in her hair kept her grounded as she
Her eyes blinked open slowly and she was greeted with those baby blues smiling at her as Peter had perched himself beside her on the floor.
“You really did so good.” He examined her glistening face and body in its afterquakes of orgasm.
Puffy lips redden around the edges, matted hair, slumped body: what a site to behold. He felt lucky as he brought up his previously discarded shirt to clean her chest and belly. She started to push it away, the disheveled man didn’t have many clean clothes to begin with, but he simply leaned to kiss her forehead and continued to wipe up some of the mess made.
“You took such good care of us, sweetie,” his voice was slightly raspy but still flirtatious, “it’s our turn to take care of you.”
~~~~~~~~~~
When Miguel and Noir returned to the room, they were met with the sight of a lightly sleeping spider and their counterpart stroking her hair and smiling at her.
Miguel suggested they let her sleep, get her strength back, but Noir was insistent.
“This is the most important part, boss.” Noir asserted.
~~~~~~~~~~
Sleepy spider was coming to again swaying slightly in the arms of the tallest in the trio walking down the short hallway.
“Bella Durmiente,” Miguel cooed. He had been watching her face as he carried her to the bathroom in his large office and when her lashes parted and fluttered open to look up at him his chest tightened.
“Such a cutie, even when she snores.” Peter beamed over Miguel’s shoulder as if he were carrying a kitten in his cradled arms.
Miguel carried her into the bathroom and she looked around at lights moving on the walls. It wasn’t tricks of Miguel’s futuristic decor, but rather several lit pillar candles flickering and casting soft shadows of the four of them.
The new recruit had fully come down from her delirium from earlier, but more flush came to her face as Miguel placed her into a clawfoot tub. It was huge. It had to be to house the large man that was sinking her into the shoulder deep water.
The bath was so warm. Hot even. It wasn’t too hot for her though as she awkwardly grabbed the edges of the tub, even though Miguel was oh so careful. Heaps of bubbles rounded the edge and she focused on the fizzling I ward off the feeling of three sets of eyes on her.
Miguel’s hands returned to her body as he rested on his knees beside the tub. He had already saturated a soft wash cloth in soap and was gently rubbing it on her skin, starting with her painted abdomen. He was reaching towards her lower half when his brows furrowed slightly in concentration on her face, watching her reactions. He barely patted her sensitive inner thighs with the rag but pulled away when she winced.
“Lo siento, arañita.” Miguel remorsed. She responded softly, saying she was fine.
“You really took a beating, dollface,” Noir agreed. He’d taken the knee himself at the end of the tub. His gloves were off, sleeves rolled up, and with surprisingly soft hands he reached into the bubble bath and rubbed the swooning spider’s feet. “You sure you okay, sugar?”
She responded by shyly nodding and sinking her head under the water down to her nose, her eyes moving from each man’s face. She saw that Peter had mirrored the others’ posture and positioned himself at the head of the tub. His chin rested on his arm laid out on the tub’s rim. His other arm reached out and idly traced circles on the surface of the water. He had grown uncharacteristically quiet while watching the peaceful scene unfold in front of him.
She poked her mouth out the water and timidly said, “You guys don’t have to do all this, I can bathe myself…”
She wasn’t uncomfortable, just not used to this kind of care and attention. Especially three fold. Moments ago she was nearly shameless in her entanglement of limbs and fluids. However, this was treatment that was normally forgotten or shrugged off at the end of a long session. She could handle the smacks and fingers grabbing and leaving small bruises. Intimate connection was a whole different level of consideration she simply didn’t know how to react to.
The three men ignored her as they continued their self-delegated duties. The silence wasn’t unnerving but actually tolerable and she felt herself slipping again at the pampering pressing on the pads of her feet.
The large hands lifting limbs and reaching to cleanse her completely calmed her body that had been thrashing not too long ago.
The usual quips from the mouthy spider had been replaced with sweet pokes at her cheeks and shoulders followed by giggles from them both. They playfully splashed each other. Even though the brooding one rolled his eyes at the clothes he just changed into getting wet, he wished he could record the moment and have it on a loop for those especially difficult days protecting the multiverse.
The black-clad spider pressed along the sweet spider’s feet once more before blending into the background again. The glimmering candles quickly swiped from his era framed his silhouette as he retreated a moment.
He returned with a towel in one hand and a certain pink robe that had been tossed to the ground in the fun from before in the other hand. He smiled softly behind his mask at the scene in front of him: sweet spider back to smiling and laughing.
He nodded to himself in pride.
The most important part.
🕷️🕸️🕷️
__________ __________ __________ __________
Spanish translation (THANK YOU AGAIN @ejpuki on Twitter and my cousin lol):
“Está apretadito…riquísimo..” (she’s so tight,… so fucking hot)
“me vuelves loco” (you drive me crazy)
“Te voy a comer ese culo.” (going to eat that ass)
“Quiero que te vengas en mi verga, arñita” (I want you to cum on my dick, little spider)
“Que culo..” (that ass)
“Bella Durmiente” (Sleeping Beauty 🥹)
“Lo siento, arañita.” (I’m sorry, little spider)
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soapyghost · 1 year
Note
Could we get captain price with a younger/inexperienced reader? Like someone who’s only had shitty hookups that didn’t care if they got off or not. He would completely ruin you for all other men omg. Like knowing that he’s the first person to really make you feel good would be so hot to him
TRUTH OR DARE? A PRICE X F! READER
A/N- I actually had a lot of fun writing this bad boy. I really hope I did this prompt justice~
W/c- 2.1k
WARNINGS- Smut, language, fingering, orgasm(s), p i v, choking, rough sex, inappropriate relations with your boss, and like a ton of SMUT. Ok cool enjoy.
Of all things, of course a children's game would be your downfall.
It all started after a you and the rest of 141 finally completed the 2 month long mission in bumfuck Russia. Safely back at the bunker, the squad pops open a bottle of whisky, bourbon to be specific, so even Ghost joined in. The game of cards long since abandoned in favor for a rousing game of Truth or Dare.
"Minx, you're turn" Soap slurs, "Truth or dare?" "Truth" you respond, after seeing the last dare done in the group you chose the hopefully safer answer. Gaz had last chosen dare and the image of his bare ass is now forever ingrained in your brain.
"Oh that is so not gonna save you missy," Price mutters, taking another sip of his drink. You raise your eyebrow at him as Soap asks "how many time has a guy made you cum in one night?". You spit out your drink at the bluntness of this question. You usually can hide your emotions pretty damn well, as it was part of your job. Your were 141's espionage agent. Their "honey pot" , which is how you got your code name, Minx. But this question, off of Johnny's drunk lips caught you off guard.
"I'm sorry, WHAT did you just ask me" you retort. "Oh you heard me." he counters. You take a sip of your glass and muse on how to get out of this one. But you know there is no way out, its either answer this question or down the rest of the bottle. Your stomach doing flips at the thought of drinking that much. After a long sigh you shrug your shoulders in defeat, "Not a single time Johnny boy" exhale. Every head in the room snaps up to stare at you in pure shock.
Johnny lets out a chuckle, "I can change that for you Sweetheart" he boldly asserts. "Johnny you couldn't figure out the difference between a pussy and an asshole" Price quips, which manages to get what sounds like a chuckle from Ghost and full on howls from the rest of the team. You feel your face redden and you look up at Price to try and come up with some snappy comeback but the words die on your lips when you see how he's looking at you. It's different now, hungry.
It's been a few months since that night in the bunker, but you can't get the image of Price's face out of your head. Are you falling for your Captain? You don't have the privilege's of loving anyone in your line of work. Not only can they be killed, but most men would lose their minds watching you flirt with mob bosses. How fragile their egos can be, but that's what makes it easy to get information. Which comes in handy on your next mission.
You slide on the little black dress laid out for you in the hotel room of some fancy 5 star hotel in the heart of Mexico. This mission was simple, get in, get close to the some high up cartel douche and get the information off the USB he's carrying. Slipping in the earpiece that is near invisible you breathe, "hear me alright lads?". "Copy" responds Price, "Loud and clear Minx. Remember the plan and stick to it." "Yes sir" you reply. The rest of the squad was outside, hiding in the shadows incase anything went awry and being subtle was no longer an option. You stalk out of the hotel room and down to the casino on the first floor, ready to outsmart yet another idiotic man. You catch the attention of every man in the room when you walk in, some even blatantly staring. You saunter over to the bar and order yourself a drink, ignoring the man at the bar trying desperately trying to get your attention. You swipe up your drink and leave him with his mouth open as you go to sit in the lounge and wait for your prey.
"Incoming now Minx" you hear Ghost breathe through your earpiece. Not a minute later incomes your target, a rather short man in an overpriced suit, Angel. All the pictures you'd been briefed with made it easy to spot him in the crowd. You take a slow sip of your drink and as he walks past you, you slowly look up at him with doe eyes. You can see in his eyes he's fallen for it hook line and sinker. After a few minutes a man in a black suit taps you on the shoulder, "Excuse me Miss. But Angel would like to speak with you" he whispers into your ear, accent thick. "Oh does he?" you respond, "well who am I to decline?"
You follow the man to the back of the casino and he leads you to an elevator. "He's on the top floor" he gestures to the door. "Gracias" you respond, voice dripping with honey. "You could work on that pronunciation." Gaz snorts in your earpiece. As the doors shut and the elevator moves you take a big gulp of air. "Shut it Gaz" you spit. The doors open to a dimly lit club, filled with music and smoke. "Hope you boys are ready for a show," you breathe as you step into the club.
He sticks out in his flashy white suit making it easy to pick him out of the crowd. You slide into his lap and purr "you wanted to see me handsome?" His hand slides onto your ass and you suppress a gag at the smell of his god awful cologne. "mmm, I've wanted to lay my hands on you from the moment you looked at me" he moans into your ear. "Well, I'm here" you murmur into his neck, placing kisses from his ear to the nape of his neck. You hand slides down his body, nearing his groin. You slip your hand into his pocket and slip the USB into your dress. "We should take this back to my room" he hums. "Mmmm, you'd think I'll just follow you anywhere?" You pull back, eyes wide, "I would feel much safer back in my room. But I need to freshen up first" you move your hand up his chest. After a few more minutes of some pretty heavy petting you get up, "you can find me in room 603" you whisper into his ear as you slink away. Of course that wasn't your room number, you weren't even going to be in this country by the time he figures that out.
The minute your outside the hotel you find a way to slip into the backstreets to rendezvous with the team. "I feel like I need to take a scalding shower for the rest of my life" you groan, still feeling his hands on your body. "Let's exfil and get you that shower, you earned it" Price smiles once he has eyes on you again. You wonder what a shower with Price might be like... you shake your head to get the image out of your mind.
After debrief and a long hot shower you get a text that surprised you
My office- 10 minutes. It's from Price. What could he possibly want with you at this hour? Your mind races with the possibilities as you leave your room, mostly of terribly dirty thoughts of being bent over Price's desk. As you approach his office door you pause, unsure of if you want to knock on the door or pretend you didn't see his text. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you rap on the door 3 times before you hear Johns gruff voice, "Come in."
You slide in the door and close it softly behind you, "You wanted to see me sir?" you choke out. The air in here thick with cigar smoke and anticipation. "Your performance on todays mission was good kid, but that's all it was, a performance." he mutters, voice low. "Sir?" you inquire. "You've never wanted to take a man to your room, none of them could please you" his words go straight to your core. "I've been thinking about this since that night in Russia" he continues, standing slowly from his desk chair, "and I know you have too" his eyes flick up to yours. They have that same hungry look from all those nights ago. You gulp, "have I now?" you tease, hoping to regain some control of the situation. "Oh you know you have love" he grumbles. In an instant his hands on your neck and your back is on the door. You let out a yelp of surprise and pleasure. His lips meet yours and the fire in your belly ignites. You had been thinking about this since that night, many times with your hands between your legs and the image of him in your mind.
"Why don't you show me then? What it should be like?" you moan as you nip at his neck. "I'm going to ruin you" he growls, flipping you around and face down onto his desk. The tone of his voice and the force he moves you around with is more than enough to get you soaked. He rips the booty shorts you wore down your legs, to reveal your bare ass, a perfect site to behold. You can hear him hum in delight at the sight of you bent over his desk. Your breathing is ragged as he takes one hand to hold your head down on the table and the other begins to rub your folds. His touch alone tightens the band in your stomach, he knows exactly what to do. "Wet already?" he croons, taking his thumb to your clit. He starts slow, moving in a circle causing your back to arch. The fire in your stomach turns into an inferno as he takes one finger and slides it into you. You gasp at the feeling of his rough callous fingers. He pushes up against you, his cock throbbing through his pants and slides in another finger. "Fuck John" you moan. "Shhh, let me show you how you deserve to be fucked" he grunts. His pace begins to quicken, fingers sliding effortlessly in and out of your hole. You've never felt this burning inferno in your stomach unless it was your own fingers. "Holy Shit John" you whine, your eyes loosing focus at how incredible this feels. "Cum for me" he commands, fingers moving at a speed you didn't know was possible. The gruff command is enough to send you spilling over the edge into an orgasm. You cry out his name as he doesn't relent. You have to bite down on your arm to ground yourself, the world going black from pleasure. "That's my girl" he praises, removing his fingers from you with a satisfying pop. Before you can catch your breath, you hear him unbuckle his pants. Shudders run through your body in anticipation for what comes next. If his fingers could do that, you can only imagine what his cock can do to you. "Ready?" he whispers. You're so fuck dumb all you can do is manage a nod, as he slides down your panties which are just a soaking mess. He teases you, moving his cock back and forth between your soaking folds before he finally slides his tip in. He's so much bigger than anyone you've ever been with, you cry out as he slides a couple inches deeper. "Breathe love" he groans through gritted teeth, "You have to relax for me". With one final thrust he's in, his size struggling against your walls. You whimper as he begins fucking you. His hand moves from your neck to your head, hands filling with your hair. Pulling your head back, he picks up his pace. Every thrust fans the flame of yet another orgasm. "Fuc- John I'm gonna- I'm gonna" you yelp. Words won't come out of your mouth, your brain to scrambled from the last orgasm. "Fuck" He grunts, and with one final punishing thrust you feel him empty inside you. His cum mixing with yours as you're thrown into yet another orgasm. His forehead on the back of your head, cigar smoke filling your senses.
"What are you doing to me Minx?" he breathes. You're still bent over the desk gasping for breath. You've never been fucked like this in your life, its nothing like those shit one night stands you've been used to. Your whole body feels like its on fire, but your head is where its the worst. Words are failing to come to your lips, all you can do is whine. He slides out of you and kisses your forehead.
"Truth or dare?" you finally gasp out. Shakily hopping up on the desk, regaining a miniscule amount of control of your body. A smirk crosses Johns mouth, "Dare" he answers.
"I dare you to make me cum again" you challenge, voice still shaky. His eyes light on fire again, "Gladly".
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emberfrostlovesloki · 5 months
Text
Freud Said We Should Fuck [Hotch x Reader]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Photo credits: Left and Right (@shakespearesdaughters) Center (@hotchs-big-hands)
Prompt: When Aaron makes a Freudian slip on the jet, he and the reader get flushed, and later, once the case is finished, the reader finds him in his office on a lonely Saturday and teases him about it. Aka, when the reader and Hotch do something in his office other than paperwork. 
Pairing: Aaron x fem BAU-reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns
Category: Fluff/angst/smut 
Word Count: 9.9K 
A/N: Hi loves! First off, this story is 18+, minors DNI. Please respect this boundary. I’m finally back writing again and I’m so happy about it. However, I feel like it’s going to take me a bit to get back into the swing of things. I had a lot of my AU written and then I just thought it was moving too slow. So I’ve put that on hold for a bit and gone back to what I love smut. I don’t think the sex here is the best I’ve ever written, but I still like it. This idea came about because @silk-spun and I were chatting about Aaron and office sex and I couldn’t stop thinking about it - so naturally I wrote it. Please have a look at the notes before reading as there are some things that some plot points that some readers might want to avoid. I hope you like this and if you do, likes, comments, and replies are appreciated! Content Warnings under the cut. I hope you are having a good week. Love Levi - ❤️
Content Warnings: There are two unsubs mentioned in this fic: The one most talked about is a family annihilator [There are mentions of wives and children being killed, depiction of dead bodies, description of a bloody room,  mention of suicide via gun (unsub)] The second unsub kills at random [There are mentions of poisoning, falling to one’s death and drowning (the body is briefly described)] Mention of past trauma and abuse [Hotch] and the mention of an absent father. There is also sex: touching over the clothes, sex in a semi-public setting [Hotch’s office] fellatio, p in v (unprotected] Very slight dom vibes from the reader and Hotch and the slightest mention of a size kink. If I missed any, please let me know. 
List with all stories 
_y/n_ = your name
_c/t_ = coffee or tea (whichever you prefer) 
_u/sf/d_ = up/straight forward/down (depending on height). 
_s/l_ = short or long 
_kl/s/m_ = knee length/short/mini (pick your favorite skirt length)
_y/f/c/s_ = your favorite color and style (bra)
_y/f/t/f_= your favorite type of food
The team sat in the jet as they moved toward Evansville Indiana. The skilled agents were bantering ideas off of each other, as they normally did. This unsub was very blatant with their modus operandi. As Aaron had debriefed in the conference room an hour earlier with the team and Garcia, he said, “The unsub we’re dealing with allegedly has three distinct personalities. Although I would be hesitant to diagnose anyone with a split personality disorder or DID. Many people with this condition are stigmatized due to the negative stereotypes associated with that name. If our unsub does have this condition, then we work from there. But with what we know now, this might just be a part of the ritual and pattern. The police are adamant that it’s a suspect from a mental hospital, but be wary of this. J.J. I want you to cut this off at the bud as soon as we get to the station. The media liaison nodded and replied, “You got it Hotch. I’ll clear that up and make sure they haven’t come up with any nicknames either. That always gets the press in a stir.” Aaron nodded. There wasn’t time for that kind of coverage right now. The team needed to jump in immediately once they touched down. This unsub had a swift turnaround time, killing in heinous and various ways almost every other night. His signature was that at the body of each victim, the unsub left a note from either the Id, the Ego, or the Superego, and by how killing his victims, the unsub had ‘cured them,’ and how the cure had worked. The killer's notes were reminiscent of Freud’s case notes, detailed and a bit deranged. The methods of death had been drowning, poisoning, being drowned, and most recently a fatal fall from a high cliff on a popular walking trail. _y/n_ had cringed at the sight of the drowned victim’s bloated body. It was blue and purple from its extended time in the water. The poisoned victim didn’t look any better. As was usual with BAU cases, the victims had suffered significantly before their deaths. _y/n_ had asked the group as a whole once the note element came out, “Is this guy serious? I mean, Freud is more infamous than famous at this point. His clients were all wealthy Swiss members of society, and he was ridiculed later in life for changing his theories all the time. I mean, how many Fruedians are still honestly out there?” Spencer happily replied, “In terms of clinical, licensed therapists? I’d say very few. Probably around 0.5 percent at this point. But that doesn’t mean that psychoanalysis isn’t still used in a good deal of therapeutic systems. I mean ‘Talk Therapy’ is the norm in most EBT therapy systems. So although Freud and Heidegger might have faded to obscurity, their theories remain.” Hotch had nodded and said stoically, “Wheels up in thirty. We can continue this discussion on the plane. If the unsub sticks to his pattern. They might have a new victim already.” 
Thus the team, plus Penelope were on the plane like normal. Once the jet hit cruising altitude, the team seemed to relax a bit They all fell into their usual clusters, and Hotch observed them. _y/n_, Rossi, and Spencer were continuing the psychological aspect of the case with _y/n_, while Em, Derek, and Garcia talked about the victimology and methods of the murders. Lastly, JJ was writing up a short press brief for the police and the public. Aaron knew we could never be thankful enough for the work that JJ did for the team. She covered their backs more than he could ever imagine. It was hard enough doing the job they did, but having JJ backing them up meant they weren’t smeared in the press even more. Hotch made his way to her. He sat on the seat next to hers and looked over her work. The blond woman handed him a notebook page with her statement from the police force. She said, “This is what I’ve got so far. If you have any more legal or profiler things you’d like me to add, just note them in the margins.” The woman handed him a blue ballpoint pen, and Hotch did his best to look carefully and thoroughly over the short blurb. He added a few police procedural things, but otherwise, it looked good. Aaron pushed the paper back on the small table and said, “Looks good J. I just added a few notes. Let me know when you have the one for the public done, and look it over too.” JJ looked up at him as he stood and said, “You got it Hotch. And I’ll make those corrections after I’m done with this.” Aaron then moved to Em, Morgan, and Garcia. They were looking at a map both on the seat and on Penelope's computer. Derek and Em were pinpointing the sites of the victim's body on the physical map while Garcia did the same on her laptop. The trio was trying to make a geographic profile and also see if the sites were linked to a road, river, or some natural feature. All three victims had been found in parks or locations adjacent to parks. As Hotch looked over the map, Emily said, “Given the natural locations of the dump sites and how well-versed the unsub seems to be with local and national parks in the area, this person may be a game warden or resource officer or something like that. Those positions are often isolating and not well-paid. Maybe the unsub has emotions tied to their work. That they’re not achieving enough, or making enough of an impact?” Hotch nodded at the logic of her statement and said to Garcia, “Once you’ve done that work, Garcia, look up the databases for Park Service workers and Game Wardens and make a preliminary risk. Target those who work in the parks where the victims were found and those that have been having problems at work or have had problems at work in the last two months.” Garcia loved getting directions from Aaron. She always thought that his brain was close to hers, except that he was just the quiet version of her. She smiled and said, “Aye, aye captain. Coming right up.” Aaron gave Garcia a small smile and said, “Thanks Penelope.” 
Aaron got up again. Before he moved to the last group, he was going to get a cup of coffee for himself _c/t_  for _y/n_. It was their ritual on the plane now. When they were in the office, _y/n_ got him coffee from the breakroom, and when they were on the jet, he got her drink. Aaron’s and _y/n_ relationship had moved from a strong friendship to a light romance, to, in the last six months, a much more heated and sexual affair. Of course, neither of them could say, and much less do anything while they were at work but show small gestures of affection for the other. Aaron and _y/n_ were both professional and could easily keep their relationship work-coded. That didn’t however, mean that Hotch didn’t think about the things they did off the clock. The sound of _y/n_’s bright laugh had his mind reeling back to last weekend. It had been a lazy Saturday morning at his place. She had mentioned getting a snack from the coffee shop down the street before going on a walk in the park or going to get a new book for Jack, who was currently at Haley’s. Aaron had sleepily said something like, “I think you’re enough of a snack as it is, _y/n_” as he rolled onto his back.
There was a moment of silence before _y/n_ started softly laughing. Hotch moved his eyes to her. He expected her to stop laughing after a minute, but his gaze only had her laughing more loudly. She was nearly in stitches as her mirth overflowed. Hotch, not quite sure what had caused her to be so joyful,  poked her side and said, “Alright, I give up. What’s so funny? Is my breath bad or something?” Even as Hotch asked, he couldn’t stop himself from starting to laugh too. This was something unique with _y/n_. She allowed him to open up emotionally in ways that he rarely even had. After _y/n_ had caught her breath she said, “Is that your attempt at dirty talk Hotch? If so you need to take a course.” Aaron scoffed at that and said teasingly, “I’ll make you eat those words _y/n_.” As he finished that sentence, he leaned over her and kissed her. He started lightly but became more intense as _y/n_ ran her tongue over his bottom lip. Soon enough, he was undoing the buttons of her night shift and moving his mouth lazily downward with _y/n_ saying his name breathily every time he nipped her skin lightly with his mouth. His breath was hot on the cool expanse of her body. Aaron realized as he started to make the encounter more intimate and relished in how her body responded to his.
Hotch knew that apart from being with _y/n_, he was about as closed off as human could be, and he knew it. His past as a child had inherently shown him that weakness meant pain and suffering and as hard as he had tried to grow out of that, he still had some of those mental barriers up, and they often rose when he was in situations that dealt with lots of emotions. Often he found himself unable to reciprocate. That was part of the reason that he assumed that he was so good at being a prosecutor and a profiler. People’s emotions, whether they be the unsub’s or the victim’s didn’t cause him to bluster, or lose sight of the bigger picture. He was sympathetic to the victims and listened to them with sincerity, but their pain often didn’t affect him the way it did _y/n_. This was the reason that after he spoke to the various victims, he would direct them over to _y/n_ to talk further. So they could cry unabashedly and have someone to hold them tight as they did so. Often Aaron would catch her eyes as they made the silent trade-off. There was always a silent conversation that happened in these looks. It was Aaron saying, ‘Thank you,’ and _y/n_ responded, ‘I got you.’ With time Aaron had slowly started dropping those barriers with _y/n_. She made him feel more human. More intact with his emotions such as joy and the ability to do the unexpected. Things and emotions which he had hidden inside himself a long time ago. The first time that Aaron had been very open to _y/n_ was the first time that he realized that he might have deeper feelings for _y/n_ than respect or camaraderie. 
It had been a difficult case. One of the worst. The unsub had been a family annihilator. The man, Mr. Platheville, was targeting young families with only one child. The madman had killed two mothers and their children leaving the fathers to watch in horror and live with the site of the massacre they had witnessed. The first man they had found was shell-shocked and unable to move. An ambulance and mental health experts had been called for him. The next man had been so angry that Hotch and Derek had to hold the man back from hitting and punching himself or the wall or anyone within striking distance. _y/n_ had watched on with apprehension, trying to calm the man down with her words. Although those two cases had been horrible, it was nothing compared to the last. The unsub had called and said where he was and that he had another family hostage. There were audible screams on the other side of the phone. Mr. Plathville had said, “Come quickly. Please. I can’t stop myself anymore.” At first, the team felt like this was a good step. A great step even. The man was giving himself up and asking for help. However, as the tapped line was about to be disconnected, a child’s voice cut in. It sounded scared and small as it said, “Daddy? What’s wrong with Mommy?” That had the whole team freeze. The realization that Plathville had his own family captive now had the team feel like the floor was dropping out from under them -- everyone’s stomach sinking into knots. Hotch dropped the phone first and softly said, “Everyone, move, now.” After a second, he found his voice and said loudly, authoritatively, “Move. Now.” Aaron started running to the van, and he watched as his team followed him to both his car and the other SUV. _y/n_ and Rossi piled into Hotch’s car and hurriedly buckled as Hotch hit the gas pedal. The rubber tires squealed and burned on the concrete. _y/n_ had snatched the passenger seat in the front. Hotch’s jaw was set in a tight grimace as he sped down the road. His driving was close to erratic. It wasn’t something _y/n_ had seen in him before. _y/n_’s eyes found Rossi’s in the review mirror. The older man also looked a bit concerned as well. Gently, _y/n_ placed a hand on Aaron’s upper arm. She could feel the muscle tight under his sleeve as his hands gripped the wheel. At her touch, Hotch’s eyes briefly left the road and met hers. Whatever expression she had on her face was enough to slow his driving speed. For him to pay closer attention to the road. 
Hotch was making her nervous. He didn’t seem like himself, but she didn’t say anything. There would be time for that later. The vans came to a raging halt outside the address that Plathville had disclosed. The house seemed quiet. Eerily so. Derek and Hotch approached the door softly. Derek breached the door and the team rushed inside. The front foyer was dark and there was no sound reverberating around the open area. The team fanned out in the ranch-style house. Derek and Spencer moved to the left side of the house toward the kitchen and guest bedroom. Rossi and Emily took the upstairs, and Hotch and _y/n_ moved left toward the living room and master bedroom. The other families had been found in the living room, and _y/n_ braced herself for a similar scene. Hotch’s shoulders tensed as he moved into the entryway of the living room. It meant that this family was already dead too. _y/n_ felt a part of her break inside, but she pulled the pieces back together for the team. For those who had passed. Both agents stepped into the room. The fact that the walls, carpet, and sofa were cream-colored only highlighted the dark splatters marring the walls, couch, and carpet which was soaked with a dark stain. _y/n_ pointed to the light switch and mouthed, “Should I turn it on?” Hotch nodded his head no and inclined this head toward the bedroom door, indicating that Mr. Plathville might still be in the bedroom. It was the only space they hadn’t breached. If Plathville was still in the house either alive or dead, it was in that room. As the calls of Spencer and Emily echoed through the house stating, “Clear,”  a small sound came from behind the closed door. Both agents' eyes snapped to the door, and they moved forward. Once they got to the door. Aaron held out a hand to stop her. He shook his head no. He leaned forward and whispered, “Go look at the bodies. And then stop the rest of the team from entering the living room.” _y/n_ met his dark eyes. They seemed to go on forever. He had the look he had before when the child had spoken on the phone. The same look he had had in the car. _y/n_ desperately wanted to know what was going on in his head, but again, now wasn’t the time. _y/n_ nodded and moved back from the door. She moved to the two bodies on the floor but continued to watch as Aaron opened the door, stepped inside, and said, “Mr. Plathville. Don’t do this. Do you think this is the ending your wife and daughter would have wanted for you?” Hotch closed the door behind him, leaving the room in semi-darkness. Hotch could hear soft movement from the other side of the door. It was _y/n_ and it sounded like she was crying. Aaron pushed aside the soft sounds and focused only on Plathville. The cold metal weapon the unsub was holding in his dominant hand wasn’t pointed in any direction, but it could be in an instant. Hotch didn’t want _y/n_ in the room. Because Aaron knew family annihilators, he knew them because he lived with one of them as a child. As an adult, once he learned the proper terms for killers and sadists, he realized that if he hadn’t taken the brunt of what his father doled out, his own father might have been a Plathville as well. Aaron didn’t want _y/n_ to see what might happen. He didn’t want her to see this. Hotch put up his hands and said, “Put down the gun Mr. Plathville. You’ve been a coward with how you’ve treated others because they didn’t do what you liked. Don’t be a coward now, at the end. Face what you’ve done and prove that you’re actually a man.” 
The unsub, eyes dark and glazed looked like he was about to set the gun on the bed. Aaron hoped that was what he was doing, but he didn’t trust the man either. Just as the gun seemed to be safe, Plathville turned the weapon on himself. Outside the closed door, _y/n_ heard a very loud bang. A deafening sound. At this point, _y/n was standing by the hallway with Derek. Em, and Rossi. She was doing her best to keep the three other agents at bay. When the BAU team heard the gunshot, they all rushed back into the room. Derek drew his sidearm as they all did and breached the door. _y/n_’s heart pounded in her chest because she had left him alone. Alone with an unsub who they knew had a gun; and if Aaron was dead, she would never be able to forgive herself. Not for all time. As the team rushed into the room. Hotch’s strong profile stood out against the window. His nose and jawline were distinct against the streetlight that seeped light into the room through the casement window. Aaron seemed frozen on the spot and the still and bloodied body of Mr. Plathville was slumped on the bed. _y/n_ moved forward and avoided her gaze from the new body. She took Aaron’s arm and pulled him out of the room. Not just the room but the house as well. She sensed that he needed the space away from the darkness emanating from the home. The graveyard. 
When they were at the side of the house opposite the bedroom, _y/n_ stopped. She looked down at his shoes, they had blood splatters on the toe. She looked _u/sf/d_ at him. His face was also splattered with blood. _y/n_ reached over, pulling the cuff of her white sleeve over her palm; she started wiping away the viscous red fluid from his sharp facial features. _y/n_ reflected for a moment on how attractive Aaron really was, with his stoicism and strong jaw, and how terrible a time it was for such thoughts to surface. _y/n_ pushed them away as Hotch seemed to come to himself, as she moved her hand to the other side of his face. The blood smears here were larger. There was other matter that _y/n_ would rather not speculate on. Aaron’s left hand raised and pushed her own dirtied sleeve away from his face. Hotch seemed to take a small breath, and he looked like a child who had been caught doing something wrong. _y/n_ wondered if it was his showing emotion out in the open that he perceived as being bad. She looked back at him before he seemingly crumpled into _y/n_’s arms. Low sobs reverberated on her shoulder. Tears staining _y/n_’s already soiled shirt. _y/n_ was grateful the police cruisers were on the other side of the house. Parked on the gravel drive. _y/n_knew that they would have to move soon or else the team would come looking for them. She was sure Hotch would not want to be found in such a compromised state.
_y/n_ didn’t know what else to say than, “I’m sorry Hotch. I know it’s sick and fucked up, but at least there’s no one else he can hurt. Not even himself.” And it was true. It burned _y/n_ that Mr. Plathville would face no consequences for his crimes of passion, but when an unsub took the end into their own hands, there was a certain finality to the matter. There would be fewer interviews and less press. There wouldn’t be a trial or the need for written testimony from everyone involved. It felt like a twisted prize for a game no one had asked to play. After a moment, Aaron replied softly, “It’s not that. Or it is that and some other stuff. I don’t know why I’m like this. I’m sorry.” _y/n_ frowned and pulled away a bit. Hotch looked at her with eyes asking, begging for her to stay. She took his right hand which was hanging limply at his side and said, “Let’s just walk down the drive and back. It will give you a moment to compose yourself. Get your thoughts in order. “Aaron seemed to hesitate and said, “But the police… the team, they might.” _y/n_ cut him off gently saying, “They can wait. The cops have plenty of people to interview and material to bag and tag. They can wait while we take a five-minute walk. 
_y/n_ found that walking got people talking. Particularly if the people were not wanting to open up. The movement and change of scenery seemed to give whomever she was walking with a breather and a chance to let out some thoughts if they wanted. If they didn’t, then at least they’d both gotten some fresh air. This technique had worked with Morgan, JJ, and Em. I had not worked with Spencer, but Spencer spoke so freely all the time that if he had something he didn’t want to share, then he didn’t want to share, and she understood that. This was the first time she was trying this method on Aaron. As they made it halfway up the drive, and not so much to her shock, Hotch let out a sigh and said, “It was Jack’s birthday yesterday…” _y/n_ looked over to him briefly. His eyes were on the ground, Glued to it. She knew that wasn’t the whole issue, but _y/n_ replied, “I’m sorry you had to miss that for this mess.”
They kept walking. and Aaron let out another breath and continued, “When I see people like Plathville, I see my father. I see a bit of myself in him as well.” _y/n_ furrowed her brow and turned to look at him, walking backward, matching his pace. She didn’t know a lot about Hotch’s father apart from the fact that he was dead and had hurt Aaron very badly. Perhaps she could see a correlation there between the unsub and Hotchner Sr., but she couldn’t see how Hotch was at all like either man. She asked for clarity saying, “What do you mean? I don’t see how you’re like either of those monsters. You’re tied to your father by blood, but he’s gone.” Aaron looked at her and then back down the dark path they were on. A lone streetlamp shone at the end of the road. They reached it and turned back before Aaron said, “It’s a pattern. They were both absent fathers. They both lashed out at things and people. And look at me. I hardly see Jack. It feels like once in a blue moon. And I might not be lashing out at people because my job takes out that stress. But look at me in the office, I’m still anal about things. I just see these patterns. I don’t want to fail as a father, and I feel like I am.” And there it was. There was the crux of his emotions and _y/n_ ached for his pain, for his fear, even if it seemed unfounded to her. It certainly wasn’t unfounded to him, and she’d never say that. As they moved back toward the house. _y/n_ was wording and rewording her response again and again in her head; she couldn’t quite seem to come up with the perfect response. It all sounded too close to “I love you and other people love you too, can’t you see that?” She felt the hairs picked up on the back of her neck and she looked over to Aaron. He was staring at her, Asking for some kind of reply. They were near the house again and she stopped, and he stopped too. Now _y/n_ gave a sigh, her breath making a little cloud in front of her face. She finally replied, “Aaron, I don’t know what this is going to sound like to you, but here it is. I think you’re tired. I haven’t seen you sleep in three days straight because this case is so close to you. It’s close because it involves a group of people who can’t protect themselves, or their children. And I think in some ways after Haley filed, you think that you can’t protect her or Jack either. But Aaron, you’ve handled everything there with as much grace and compassion as you could. You did what Haley wanted and you still try and look after them. And maybe you don’t see Jack as often as you like, but you try. I hear you call him at night when the team’s away. And the stories you tell about when he spends the weekends over make it sound like you don’t just shower him with gifts or love bomb him. You’re trying to have a relationship with him. And I never hear you badmouth Haley, ever, which means your son can know that not all relationships work out but there can still be a kind of love and respect. A lot of kids don’t get that.” _y/n_ took a breath and she saw in his eyes that he was coming more to himself, as she finished stating, “And about you being like your father, yeah, genes are passed down, but I don’t believe that people are born bad. I think something bad happens to them and you either continue the cycle or break it. And you’re far too kind of a person, even if you don’t show it, to keep doing what you’re father did. You’d never do those things to another person. You’re not him Hotch. You never will be.”
_y/n_ looked at him to see what his reaction to her words would be. Aaron looked like he might cry again, but was holding back those emotions. She hoped she hadn’t overstepped some emotional or professional line, but she didn’t have time to ask as Hotch stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug. His warm body enveloped her in the cold night. His breath fanned the _s/l_ hair at the nape of her neck. He whispered, “Thank you for that, _y/n_. I needed to hear that.” When Aaron pulled back, he was himself again. He nodded and motioned his head toward the house. As he attempted to move forward, _y/n_ grabbed his coat sleeve, and he looked at her confused. _y/n_ said, “Wipe the left side of your face Hotch. It’s still bloody.” Aaron rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. They both started walking back to the house, and he wiped off his face. As they walked back, there was an understanding that something deeper had happened between them. As Aaron moved past the cruisers with red and blue lights still flashing,  he raised the caution tape for _y/n_, and as she stepped under it. Aaron looked at her and felt a warmth seep through him. It bit through the cold outside, and he didn’t mind it. 
Aaron pulled his mind out of the haze that was focused on the sounds that _y/n_ had made last Saturday morning. Her moans and whimpers rang in his ears for a second longer. He was thankfully snapped back to the interior of the jet as a bit of turbulence rocked the aircraft. Aaron cleared his throat and moved to the coffee maker. He made himself a cup of black coffee first. He shot a prayer up to any possible deity up there that his body and mind had not synced enough for him to be aroused by his mind's inappropriate wandering. Having to hide an erection wasn’t his idea of a fun time. It had happened once or twice before and he had to rush to the bathroom and splash cold water on his face and neck. When Hotch’s cup was done, he moved another clean styrofoam cup under the dispenser and started making _y/n_’s _t/c_. He stifled a yawn. He had spent much of the last two days working on field reports and revising the FBI’s security training. It was woefully behind the times. He had coordinated with Penelope and as helpful as Garcia was in terms of the technological aspects of cyber security, the lingo and Pen’s energy had worn him out a bit. The Keurig beeped, indicating _y/n_’s drink was done. He doctored the beverage as she liked. Aaron half blamed his wandering mind on his lack of sleep and the case. Spencer’s clear voice cut through all the others and he was talking about the more interesting sexual elements of Freud’s theories including the more lurid Oedipus and Xena complexes. Reid was going on about how the notes from the unsub seemed to really dive into those theories even though there was no sexual aspect to the case yet. Hotch grabbed _y/n_’s cup and moved back to the final group he had not spoken with yet. 
He sat next to _y/n_ and handed her her cup. _y/n_ looked at Hotch and gave him a small smile before taking a sip of her drink. _y/n_ had a random thought, as she mulled over the bizarre nature of the case. She said aloud, “What do you think Freud would think about people using his theories like this? I mean he was odd and problematic, but not that odd.” Aaron had his eyes closed, and he replied without even thinking said, “I think Freud would say we should fuck.” _y/n_ nearly spat out her drink. The liquid burned her throat as it went down. Hotch caught his mistake and flushed, quickly amending his statement saying, “I mean if Freud were still here, he would probably think the unsub would want to have intercourse with his victims. It could either be latent sexual attraction or transference of sexual desire for an authority figure like a parent or teacher. An attraction that shouldn’t be acted out.” Hotch could feel his ears burning, and he hid his face by taking a long drink of his coffee. The dark liquid burned his mouth but this pain was better than having to face to look of utter shock of his friends. Thankfully the awkwardness only lasted a second longer as Spencer picked up on his hurried line of thinking saying, “You could be right. This unsub might be impotent and killing as a means of sexual release. Or they could be killing as a displacement tactic for unwanted feelings.” Reid jumped into that conversation with a fervor and _y/n_ added her thoughts in too along with taking some notes on the comments Spence made.
Although Spencer didn’t choose to comment on what Hotch had said, when the Unit Chief looked over at Rossi, his friend had an eyebrow raised and an expression that said, “Really, Aaron?” Hotch closed his eyes, sighed, and rubbed a hand over his eyelids as if saying, “I’m tired. Alright?” When Aaron opened his eyes again, Rossi just gave a little shrug as if saying, “Hey. I have three ex-wives. I’m not one to judge.” The older man ever so slightly looked over to _y/n_ and gave a small smile. The team knew that Hotch was seeing _y/n_. They were all too perceptive not to tell. But what he had just said was more personal than the team needed to know. At least not yet. Aaron liked keeping his private life private, and he would have to apologize to _y/n_ for putting their personal business out there like that. He was just thankful that he had made that slip of the tongue in front of Spencer and Dave and not Morgan and Garcia. There would be no end to the gossip if that had been the case. Aaron sat back in his seat and did his best to put back on the Unit Chief facade. One great thing was that he was able to compartmentalize his emotions and what had just happened was just a blunder. He fell easily back into the conversation and made himself useful to the team. 
The case was a wild one with the team being kept on their feet, as the unsub devolved into crazier and more complex kills. Thankfully the unsub, one Kathy Kittery got sloppy as her mind crumbled under the weight of her own brain. Thus, only one other victim was lost, the others, though traumatized would make it through the ordeal. Ms. Kittery was a therapist who had had her license revoked after having an affair with a client. Once she had taken that blow, she had moved to a second career that had always interested her. Being a Ranger in a State Park. However, as it turned out, the mental isolation did not help with her already troubled state and she had slipped into acting on her delusions, thus the need for the team to come in the first place. After the unsub had been arrested, the team, as normal, was assured that she wouldn’t be seeing freedom for a good long while. On the jet home, Aaron’s sexual comment was almost forgotten by everyone, including himself, but _y/n_ remembered and as she closed her eyes to sleep on the short flight back, her brain played out certain scenarios that she also wouldn’t want to be voiced in front of the others. When the jet touched down, the team disembarked and _y/n_ asked Aaron as they walked back to the main office, “So, what are you doing tomorrow?” Tomorrow was Saturday and she hoped that they could spend the day together or with Jack if he was staying over at Hotch’s that weekend. It felt like a while since they had had a good day to themselves. Work had piled up, and she longed for just a few solid hours with Aaron. Hotch, however, didn’t seem to pick up on her tone as he was tired. He replied in a monotone, “Probably filling out paperwork in the office I’m behind on like three cases worth and this makes a fourth.” _y/n_ pouted slightly. She knew she was being silly, but sometimes Aaron needed a break for his own good, and an idea started brewing in the back of her mind. If she had the nerve to do even half of what her head was cooking up, she would have done something she had been imagining for a long time. Longer than was appropriate probably. For the moment she just said, “Mhm. Sounds productive.” Hotch scoffed as they both entered the sliding glass door. Even he knew his life, and particularly weekends sounded miserable sometimes. After all, he was the one that put him through them. 
The next afternoon, _y/n_ pulled up to the Quantico field office. She parked her car next to Aaron’s and set her employee parking pass on the dash so it could be seen by security.  _y/n_ chuckled remembering the one time that Derek had forgotten his pass and had his Corvette towed on a Saturday. Her athletic friend had been so flustered, saying, “Oh come on! I work at the freaking FBI you’d think there would be some camera’s in this lot and they’d know I work here!” _y/n_ had laughed, patted his shoulder, and offered him a ride to the impound lot to pick up his flashy car. As _y/n_ moved through the mostly empty lot she smiled. Not that she expected there to be a lot of people at the office on a Saturday afternoon, but it boded well for what she had in mind. As entered the office and was waived through security quickly, she hadn’t brought her gun or anything important with her. She entered the bullpen and looked up at Hotch’s office. His lights were on and she could see him looking at something on his desk. It was most likely a field report. The bullpen was empty and most of the lamps on the desks were off. One or two burned brightly in the soft space. One or two of the agents must have forgotten to turn them off in the rush to get home on Friday. She turned off the lamps as she texted Aaron, “Hey, you at the office?” She looked up at his office window and his head turned to the side. Clearly, he had just received her message. His left hand raised and a second later her phone beeped. Hotch had sent back a simple “Yes.” He was never one to be overly elaborate over text. If he was forced to type more than one full paragraph he would just give up and call instead. _y/n_ always chalked it up to his hands being too big for the small phone screen. He probably made a lot of accidental typos with his thumbs and had to go back and correct them which seemed like a thing that would annoy him to no end, even if he did have autocorrect on his phone. _y/n_ took a breath as she looked at Aaron again. He was back to his paper. _y/n_ had jokingly said she would do this if the spirit led her, but somehow seemed like the dirty things she was picturing in her head were driving her up the stairs and not ‘the spirit.’ Outside Hotch’s door, she knocked once and then turned the knob. She stepped into the dimly lit room and closed the door behind her. She softly said, “Hey Hotch, how are the papers going?” Aaron looked up from his desk. He did a bit of a double take as his eyes flicked to his phone and then back to her. His eyes held a hint of surprise, warmth, and general confusion as he said, “_y/n_. What are you doing here? Do you need something?” _y/n_ couldn’t help but flush already. Hotch was just too cute sometimes; especially when he wasn’t trying.
_y/n_ smiled at him and took a seat across from him at his desk. _y/n_ sighed and said, “I was just bored I guess. I had nothing better to do, so why not give you a hand with your paperwork? Maybe I can get you out of here earlier than five p.m. on a Saturday?” Aaron raised a brow. He highly doubted that that was _y/n_’s only reason for being here, but he wouldn’t question her. Instead, he picked up a case file, and set it in front of her saying, “Suit yourself, love.” _y/n_ flushed again and pulled one of Aaron’s ballpoint pens out of the cup he kept a stash in. _y/n_ wondered how many pens he dried up per year, but wasn’t in the mood for calculus problems right now. Instead, she opened the file and started working on the first page. She had to take it for at least ten minutes before she made a move. _y/n_ assumed if she outright said, “Hey wanna have sex in your office there would be two simultaneous outcomes. The first was that she would no longer be Aaron Hotchner’s partner and that she would be a former FBI Behavioral Analyst. Neither of which sounded very appealing. So she took her time. 
When Aaron seemed absorbed in his work again, she slipped off her shoe and moved her foot across the space between her side of the desk and his. It was a bit of a reach, but she managed to brush Aaron’s ankle and the inside of his trouser leg. That did it and Aaron’s eyes snapped to hers. They were dark, hiding emotions that he often kept at bay. He cleared his throat and said, “_y/n_, really?” You chuckled and said, “Sorry. I just like to see you flustered.” _y/n_ pulled her leg back and Aaron watched as she flushed but returned to her papers. _y/n_ knew he liked it when she was a tease sometimes and that was her plan for this potentially risky act she was trying to have with Hotch. After another ten minutes, _y/n_ repeated the same action, except this time she moved her foot higher up his leg She applied gentle pressure to the inside of his leg. His grey trousers were cool under her foot as they moved up past the knee and onto his inner thigh. Her dark stockings were the only barrier between her skin and the fabric of his pants. _y/n_ looked up at him and he let out a soft breath as if his brain hadn’t caught up with his body yet. When the two entities of mind of body did collide his brows furrowed trying to reconcile the pleasure coursing through his body and the fact that this shouldn’t be happening in his office.
Before he could make any protestation, _y/n_ cut him off saying, “So, ‘Freud said we should fuck’ did he?” This reminder of his slip of the tongue gagged Aaron momentarily. It gave _y/n_ enough time to shift lower in her chair and slip her foot high enough to press over his crotch. Aaron let out a little grunt at the contact. _y/n_ continued to run her foot over his zipper, up and down in a rhythmic pattern. _y/n_ smiled as his eyes grew hazy with desire. A look she’d seen on him often, just not in his office. Never in his office. But she had dreamed about it plenty. She’d woken soaked on occasions with the notion of Aaron having her in his office, blinds drawn tight as they made love in the enclosed space. Aaron stuttered trying to make a coherent sentence, but his cock slowly hardening in his pants was not helping him at all. _y/n_ could feel it under her foot and continued to tease him saying, “You know you really shouldn’t make comments about our sex lives in front of a team of profilers. I think you owe me an apology?” _y/n_ pulled her foot away and Aaron groaned at the loss of contact, but suddenly his mind was more clear. Half of Aaron’s brain cursed _y/n_ for knowing just the right way to turn him on. The other half was already imagining her splayed out on his desk as he ate her out, or pounded into her so hard that the desk left marks on her hips. Those thoughts alone had his member twitch against his belt and fly. To consumed in his thoughts, Aaron slipped off his own left shoe, and perhaps more gently than _y/n_ had, he moved his foot up her leg and to her cunt. _y/n_ opened her legs for him slightly pushing her _kl/s/m_ length skirt up a bit. Even wearing socks, Aaron could tell that _y/n_ was wet. The moan she made as he just brushed over her sex and him realize that he couldn’t wait. That he needed her, now. Hotch took away his foot and reveled in the needy noise _y/n_ also made at the lack of contact. Hotch moved quickly to his door, locking it from the inside before closing the shades to the office. His movements were hasty, jerky even. _y/n_ watched him, knowing the sexual tension must have built up since the last time they had been intimate. 
_y/n_ wasn’t sure what Aaron had in mind but she did have to ask, “There aren’t any hidden cameras in here, right?” Hotch chuckled, the sound was throaty, and he replied, “Not that I know of. And if they are, then at least we’ll both be fired.” _y/n_ laughed at this and took his hand; she led him back to his office chair. _y/n_ appreciated that he had a sense of humor in these moments that were new to him. _y/n_ knew that she pushed him to do things he hadn’t before both in and out of the bedroom, but he never complained and the bulge in his pants told her that he was already looking forward to what she was about to do for him. Aaron looked up at her a bit amazed at the things she could make him do. Never in his life had he thought he would be able to act out his fantasy. _y/n_ leaned down and kissed him softly at first and then with more hunger and ferocity. Aaron reciprocated in turn. As their lips looked in a passionate heated kiss, _y/n_ moved her hands to the belt that kept his trousers in place over his trim hips. It wasn’t as hard as _y/n_ had imagined taking off his belt without looking. The cool metal of the clasp heated against your skin. You moved to his pant’s button and zipper next. _y/n_ didn’t want to wait around anymore and once his grey briefs and thick arousal were freed, _y/n_ started palming his erection with a steady hand. Once her hand started stroking him, Aaron let out a gasp. He opened his mouth enough for her to slip her tongue into his mouth. He breathed in her throat and had her make a small contented noise as she explored the well-known concaves of his mouth. _y/n_ would never consider herself a sex expert, but when it came to new positions or scenarios with intimacy and Hotch, she often found it helpful if she took the lead. Warming him up to the idea. Making him feel comfortable and safe before they kept doing whatever it was they were trying. Oftentimes Aaron would jump on board and take the reigns, which she adored. She loved it when he told her what to do, how to lie. Everything. It was one of Aaron’s most attractive traits.
_y/n_ pulled her mouth away from his and wrapped her hand around his cock, more steadily pumping his length. Aaron said her name as he started moving his hips to meet her pace. His body responded to her touch. _y/n_ smiled at him and moved away for a moment, pushing his chair back enough for her to kneel under his desk. Aaron pushed his hips up and let _y/n_ pull his pants down, exposing his cock to the cold air. Hotch took a few steadying breaths. He knew what was to come, _y/n_ gave some of the best head that he had ever had and the anticipation of her lips on her member had him panting already. He said, “Can you not kneel all the way down like that, love? I want to touch you while you’re dining me?” _y/n_ smiled, relishing the fact that he was already taking a small amount of control of the situation. She nodded and said, “Of course Aaron, anything you ask.” With his request in mind, _y/n_ got up on her knees. It was helpful because she needed the reach to be able to lean over and take his tip in her mouth. She swirled her tongue over the top and slit, sucking at it like some rare candy. Hotch groaned as she moved her head down his length slightly. _y/n_  took in his width and length with surprising ease. He was always surprised by her ability to take him. It only made her more attractive to him. As his head swam with pleasure and endorphins, he moved his own body forward and down a little. His head almost rested on her shoulder as he moved his long arm to feel between her legs and upper thighs. He slid his hand down and over between her skirt. As he started rubbing her clothed sex, _y/n_ moaned over his cock. She took a second before she kept moving her head further down him. Her mouth and tongue doing things to him that almost made him see stars. His left hand kept massaging her wet, clothed folds while his right pushed up her shift and kneaded her breasts in turn over her _y/f/c/a/s_ bra. Aaron could feel her nipples grow rigid under her bra and he moved his hand under the intimate article of clothing that covered her chest. He squeezed her right breast and squeezed her nipple. As _y/n_ started moving her head up and down his whole length, Aaron matched her pace with his hand on her clit, pushing and pulling sensations out of her. It turned out Hotch was so aroused, so excited that he kept moving his hand faster over her sex and clit, and _y/n_ kept up her own pace. Aaron panted and tipped his head back as he released some precome and she moved off him sucking it off of him. As she moved to take him in her mouth again, Aaron stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. _y/n_’s mind and body were also hazy with desire. Her entrance ached to be filled by Hotch more fully. His hand was amazing, but nothing beat him seating himself in her fully and then fucking her to the heavens. 
Aaron could see this desire in her. A desire for him alone. Aaron pulled her onto shaky feet. He stood as well. He kissed her again, the beginning of stubble running over her chin and jaw. He pushed his pants and briefs fully off his legs and undid the side zipper of her skirt. He let it fall onto the beige carpet. He pulled back from her mouth and slipped his hands at the elastic of her stockings. He was too impatient to pull them down gingerly. Instead, he used just a bit of his strength to rip them down the center seam. _y/n_ let out an exhalation of breath. She knew it was going to get good now. Not that it hadn’t been good before, but she knew that it could get even better than his thumb and middle finger rubbing against her sex and clit. Aaron looked at her panties and noticed how they matched her bra. He murmured, “You had this all planned, didn’t you, you little devil?” _y/n_ gave him a wink and said, “Maybe just a little. You mad about it?” Hotch let out a little throaty growl and slipped his fingers under the band of her underwear. When they were on the floor, he moved to the desk. He pushed his files to the side along with the batch that _y/n_ had been working so diligently on a few minutes ago. He might desperately want to bend her over his desk, but he wasn’t so stupid to waste three good hours of work by having his files fly all over the place while he fucked _y/n_.
Once the forms were safely on the other side of the desk, Aaron grabbed her hips, turned her body 180 degrees, and then pressed her upper body flush to the hard dark wood of his desk. Hotch had unbuttoned her shirt and her skin felt cool against Hotch’s desk. She anticipated Aaron’s next move as he moved behind her slowly. Hotch pumped his throbbing length once or twice to ready himself. Another bead of precum moved to his tip and he wet his member with it. Even if he was ready and _y/n_ was ready, some of her wetness was even dripping down her thigh, Hotch was going to tease her still, as she had teased him. Aaron moved right next to her and slid his cock up and down her entrance, slightly pressing at the space that was begging for him. Aaron used his left hand to stroke over her weeping sex and _y/n_ moaned saying, “A-aron. Please. Please fuck me. Oh god.” Aaron looked at his length now coated in his and _y/n_’s excitement. It didn’t take more than her words for him to press himself into her fully with a measured thrust. _y/n_ let her out a breath and Hotch could feel her body press into the side of the desk. Aaron pulled out and pressed in again. _y/n_ let out a whimper and there was a slight squelching sound and he began to move in and out of her more quickly. Aaron's thick cock filled her fully and Hotch watched as he pushed in and out of her building his speed. The veins of his length ribbed her insides and _y/n_ almost let her feet go from under her, the desk and Aaron holding up her weight as he kept pressing into her with a relentless pace. _y/n_ could feel him fill her fully, pressing his whole member deep inside her. Aaron knew just how to move his hips to hit her sweet spot and she was panting and babbling in under a minute. Aaron moved one hand to her mouth whispering, “Shhh, now. We wouldn’t want to get caught, now would we?” _y/n_ wanted to protest and say, ‘You know no one is out there, Hotch,’ but her head was so full of lust, desire, and longing to let go. Aaron’s movements had her desire building and she knew Aaron could feel it too. Hotch picked up the pace, rapidly thrusting into her. He moved his left hand to her clit and let go of her mouth so she could let out a litany of sounds. As he kept his fast pace and circled her clit, her body pushed roughly against his desk with every thrust, she whimpered, “I...I’m gonna come, Aaron.” Hotch smiled and leaned down so his chest was flush with her back. His hand on her outer erogenous zone moved quickly and _y/n_’s walls fluttered and then contracted against his cock. _y/n_ cried out and let go of everything, letting the pure bliss of her orgasm overcome her. The sounds of her release had Aaron climax as well. He groaned as he pushed into her a few more times as he let his spent his ejaculation into her. Their shared sounds of pleasure filled the room and Aaron considered how this was better than he could have ever imagined. _y/n_ though spent, felt the same way. 
Hotch took a moment to catch his breath and after a minute he let out a contented sigh. He pulled out of _y/n_ gently. As _y/n_ similarly let out a hum of happiness. She loved the way he was so gentle with her at the end of their intimate encounters. Aaron helped her stand and led her to the couch at the side of the room. Neither exactly felt like saying anything in the soft afterglow of their shared experience. Aaron had her sit on the couch and pulled moved back to his desk. He opened the left drawer and pulled out a pocket square that he rarely wore. He found the linen handkerchiefs too formal and stuffy. And as someone who came off as formal and stuffy already, he didn’t need a fashion accessory to add to the impression. But now, the fabric would come in handy. Aaron walked back to the couch with the confidence of a man who had performed very well. _y/n_ would have laughed at his cockiness if he wasn’t so damn good at sex. The first they had done it, she was so tight that it would have hurt if he hadn’t helped prep her very well. Now he fit her perfectly and he knew it.
She smiled lazily at him as he knelt down and gently cleaned her up. He loved her, but if his or her release started staging his furniture, it might lead to awkward conversations later. When he was done cleaning her body, he wiped himself. He raised his head and said, “Was that everything you wanted darling? You did very well by the way. You felt so good for me. I hope I was the same for you?” _y/n_ beamed and said, “It was everything I wanted and more. Thanks for indulging me. Aar. But I do think you should get out of this office. Being cramped up in here isn’t good for you mentally, sexually, or physically. So what do you say we get out of here and get an early dinner and watch a Christmas movie at my place, huh?” Aaron chuckled and folded the soiled handkerchief to the clean side facing out. He put it in his pocket and smoothed down his now very crumpled shirt. He grabbed his pants and underwear along with _y/n_’s skirt and panties. He tossed them over to her and they both changed. As Aaron zipped up his pants, he said, “Sounds like I good plan. These papers can wait till Monday morning.” Somehow _y/n_ always seemed to know what he needed, and he wasn’t going to fight her on it now. Not after what they’d just done. As _y/n_ put her clothes back on, he paced his briefcase and packed _y/n_’s ripped tights inside with his other work. He wouldn’t just throw those away in the trash by the door. As he did this, _y/n_ moved behind him and gave him a hug saying softly, “You know I really liked those tights, so I expect a replacement stat, mister.” Hotch chuckled and said, “You got it, _y/n_, but you know I couldn’t help myself. Not when you tease me like that.” There was a shared laughter as Aaron turned off his lamp, grabbed his and _y/n_’s bag, and opened the door for both of them. He locked the door to his office behind him and trailed _y/n_. He had suddenly grown an appetite and asked, “So, what type of food are you feeling.” _y/n_ thought about it as they descended the stairs. She took his hand and said, “How about _y/f/t/f_?” Aaron smiled and said, “Sounds great!” _y/n_ rested her head against Aaorn’s shoulder and contemplated how lucky she was for him, and for Freudian slips.
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cursedvida · 7 months
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Something about Y/N is a bounty hunter and she has been hired to catch Buggy. She infiltrates his crew to gain access to him. At first she thinks he's crazy and ridiculous duda with all his shows and bravado, but eventually she realises that she has feelings for him?
Well i liked this prompt so... I made something angst because yeah.
PART II // PART III // PART IV // PART V // PART VI // PART VII
SAD EYES, BROKEN SMILE (Buggy x f!Reader)
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A/N: i'm not really happy about the result but english isn't my first language and it's been a while since i used to write in this language. Sorry for the typos.
Warnings: just angst, swearing and the reader falling for a sad clown.
Wondering how you could have got in that situation was redundant. You knew perfectly well why you were there. It was part of your job, if hunting pirates could be considered as such. Well, it fed you, and for a person who cared little or nothing about anything but staying alive, how you got things was secondary. So when you received the assignment to hunt down Buggy the Clown for almost double his bounty you didn't have to think too hard about it. With an amount like that you could rest for several months without worrying about the money. You didn't know or care about who was after this guy or what they wanted to do with him, all you could see was the string of zeros in the offer. At the time that was enough for you. 
But that thought only lasted for a short period of time. The Clown was not just another regular pirate, he was a big shot. The guy had been nominated as a candidate to be a Warlord, which meant he was no ordinary pirate, and his special skills - which you had researched - made him someone not to be underestimated. 
Whoever was interested in getting him had to have good reasons, something you were not interested in at all, but as you got to know your target better you blamed yourself for not having demanded a higher price. Especially since catching Buggy was no easy task, he had a reputation for always moving around guarded by his crew, which made him slightly inaccessible prey. However, when you finally caught up with him and his crew, all the imaginings you had built up in your head disappeared in one fell swoop. 
Buggy the Clown was, as his name said, a clown. A real fucking clown who spent his days bragging about his fucking antics and didn't know what it meant to shut the fuck up because he was always in dire need of being heard and being the centre of attention.He wasn't a fearsome pirate, he was a narcissist with an excessive need for attention who told far-fetched stories about great feats that no one in their right mind would believe him capable of. He was ridiculous, and the worst thing was that his comrades adored him, they had almost a special veneration for him. You couldn't understand him, he became hysterical at the drop of a hat, he was hypersensitive to any comment that wasn't literally an offering to his self-proclaimed divine power and would go from over-excitement to melodrama in a millisecond. The only thing that was clear to you was that feigning adoration for this jerk to fit in with his band of morons made you sick.
Joining his crew wasn't too difficult - ego-hungry men are the easiest to cajole-. All you had to do was pretend to be a poor, helpless little girl without much talent who had wanted to be a pirate for years and had heard amazing stories about this genius jester who had not only terrorized the East Blue, but had become one of the most feared pirates on the Great Line.Buggy didn't even pay much attention to you, you was too ordinary to interest him, something that suited you. 
"Of course you've heard of me," he told you that first time you met him, when you managed to catch him in a tavern after following him for days. "Hey guys, our little friend says she's heard about the great Buggy!"
That whole gang of freaks started laughing non-stop, as if what you had just said was the most ridiculous thing in the world. Buggy turned to you again. 
"Okay, honey, what can you do for me?"
"Anything I can be useful for."
Trying not to sound too intense - so as not to sound suspicious - you insisted that you wanted the chance to learn on such a famed crew, to please give you the opportunity. The same night you were given a bucket, a mop and welcomed as an unimportant cabin girl. Just as you wanted. 
The idea was to lay low until you had been cleaning up vomit and serving drunks long enough to have access to the captain. You knew there was no point in trying to cut him because of his powers, and if you tried to tie him up he would escape, so the only way to make sure you could catch him was to drug him. 
The plan was a slam dunk. Wait until the key moment to attack and that's it, even if the waiting included having to put up with the bunch of weirdos that made up the crew and the attention whore of their captain, who seemed to have an allergy to normality. 
Yes, it was a piece of cake, or at least that's what you thought until that day when everything began to take a turn for the worse that you could never have imagined. 
"Oh, excuse me captain"
It was a night like so many others. The crew had managed to embezzle from a rich family and had pocketed a handful of gold. In the face of such success they had not missed the opportunity to celebratre: litres and litres of beer, sake, rum and all kinds of alcohol. Food to rave about. The crew circus that Buggy was leading that night was a complete madness. You, on the other hand, remained sober, in the shadows. You picked up jugs, replenished them, swept up some of the mess... Everything you'd expect from a rookie being used as a maid.
At such moments Buggy loved to strut his stuff more than ever. He used to stand in the centre of the deck, surrounded by his entire fan club, get on a box or powder keg and start his show. He would talk about how wonderful he was, how powerful and rich they would all become by being with him, and he would emphasise considerably all that he had done to achieve the goal. So it was strange enough for you not to have seen him bragging around for the last hour, but stranger still to find him down in the cellars with his back against a row of beer barrels and his gaze lost in infinity. 
Buggy was drunk. Very drunk. At that moment you thought maybe the time had come, when would you have a better chance? He was totally idioticated by alcohol, perfect for noqueating it. And his crew all drunk, no one would notice what was going on. 
You came out of your role of useless servant, your senses sharpened, your muscles in tension. The time had come before even your personal deadline was fulfilled, you thought it was your lucky night, but at that moment Buggy noticed your presence, looking at you with glassy eyes and lost because of the drunkenness, and there was something in that look that made you feel a slight sneezing in the stomach that you had never experienced before. 
"Oh, it's you, uh... uh..." he scratched his fingers, trying to remember something. 
"Y/N, Captain," you answered with a fist. The bastard didn't even remember your name. 
“Yeah, exactly…" he said to himself. His head crumbled a little. 
He didn't wear the hat, nor the coat. Her makeup was a little rushed because of the hours he had already been at the party, and his eyes were still lost somewhere you didn't know, but for some reason it caused you so much curiosity that anything else slipped out of your head. 
"Can I help you with something?" You asked, with your most innocent voice. 
Buggy stayed looking at his jar for a few moments and then turned to you again. 
"Do you think I need help, baby?" His mocking tone seemed to indicate no, but his desolate expression said the opposite. "Do you think a pirate like me needs help?"
"I didn't want to offend you, sir..."
When he saw how you apologized, he laughed, a loud sound, but lacking fun in the tone. In fact, his laughter sounded cold to you. Then you realized that Buggy was not laughing anymore, but was breathing a huge sigh. 
"It's better not to need help nor need anyone.  At the end you're always alone"
His voice suddenly darkened and, for the first time since you were on that boat, you felt real curiosity for the man you had in front of you. There was something dark in his gaze, a face of lost innocence that seemed irremediably familiar to you. Without realizing it, you had lowered the guard, and that was only the beginning of your great end. 
"You're not alone, Captain." You told him, trying stupidly to keep your role. "Everyone  in this crew is with you, and everyone adores you."
"Of course they love me" He answered, slightly offended, and then became blue again. It was then that he looked directly at you, and it was that look that suddenly passed through you. There was fury in his eyes, but also another very different feeling, you could see in them something sad and broken, so sad and so broken that you had terrible desires to reassemble it immediately. "Don't you believe it, Y/N?"
The question makes you uninterested, or too distracted. 
“What...? that they adore you, sir?"
"No, shit" he cried, shaking at the drunkard. “that we are always alone."
“So…” You was shocked, it’s possible that you didn’t know what to answer? It wasn't even a complicated or out of place question, what the fuck had you been thinking about? Fuck, what happened to you? "Well... I..." You had to react, you were shivering, you didn't shiver. You took air, trying to get back to your boats, and then you turned to him again. "Didn't we all be born alone?" 
"What?"
"We are born alone and we die alone," you said. "And we live together in the meantime. But we are born alone and we die alone." 
He kept watching you. You didn't know if he was trying to process your words because due to the state of drunkenness in which he was probably not processing half of what was happening around him, or if he really was trying to analyze you. It was somewhat difficult to discern when someone was drunk, the line between curiosity and ethyl coma was complicated. 
It was probably the first time Buggy really noticed you since you got on the boat. Because you didn't want to be noticed, he didn’t notice you, you were good at hiding. But now he had all his attention on you and something shrunk inside you, like you missed the air. You suddenly found yourself thinking that maybe he wasn't as stupid as you thought he was. Maybe that whole facade of bravado and arrogance was just a way to make up all his insecurities,. Maybe at the end he just was a broken man behind so much show. In that moment, as his gaze clawed into yours, you realized that he even seemed attractive to you. And that moment you had to look away, horrified by everything that was going on in your head, but what the hell?
"It's an interesting answer," he murmured. 
"I have to... I have to go re-set the barrels" you finally said, you had to get out of there, the atmosphere had suddenly darkened "I'm sorry, captain."
And as you went out sparkled back to the deck, you noticed something that made you absolutely horrified: you were totally noisy. 
From that night on, Buggy decided that you weren't going to be an anonymous person to him. It's not that he left everything he was doing to talk to you, but when you crossed each other, he always greeted you. And you discovered that, in some way that you were unable to understand, you were beginning to have a very strong crush for a guy who uses make up to painted his face like a clown and was a little bit older for you. 
The more interactions you had with him - very little really, nothing even remotely similar to that night - the more you realized that your contempt for all that circus roll and the freaks making shows had clouded your ability to analyze. Buggy wasn't an idiot. Well, he was, but he also turned out to be a very smart man, was good at planning and a real genius at tricks. Furthermore, despite being always talking about himself and being quite despotic, he really cared about the crew and had respect for them. At the end, you thought that he was simply growing up child  with anger problems, and that was really charming to you. 
So there you are now, you have a fucking crush on the guy you had to kidnap, not knowing what the hell to do because it's the first time in your life that something like this happens to you and feeling ridiculous at the same time because you look like a super stupid fifteen-year-old bitch. You've killed more people than you can count, you've broken bones, cut necks, ripped teeth off, but suddenly you meet that idiot clown and everything, absolutely everything you have worked on so far goes to shit. And the worst part is that you don't even care because you're too worried looking at him from a distance like stupid fool. 
"Hey, Y/N" 
It's Cabaji's voice that gets you out of your mind. Since you had that meeting with Buggy in the cellars you're no longer dedicated to cleaning and serving, now you clean and fix things. It's kind of an promotion, but really no. 
"What's going on?"
"Have you seen the two who came yesterday? You know... those who talked about joining the crew."
"No idea"
Cabaji sits carelessly, your voice has not shaken a single moment. You remember them, of course, a couple of friends wanting to become pirates. And of course you will not tell Cabaji that you had no choice but to open their heads and leave them on the other end of the island when you heard one of the two commenting something about the captain being very attractive and. That information don¡t fit well with your image of a worthless rookie, and it would also be like assuming you have more childish jealousy starts than teenagers and therefore accepting that you're reaching very worrying levels of encapsulation. 
Actually, since you found out how much you like Buggy, there are a lot of things you can't say. For example that you were the one who left that bitch without legs when he dared to make a comment about Buggy’s nose on the last island you passed. Neither can you tell the guys who hired you to hunt him that you don't plan on doing your job and that you've long abandoned that idea. Of course, can't say to some of your colleagues you're in that crew because you want it and not for work. But most of all, you can't tell Buggy that you'd love to know what it's like to kiss a man with a broken smile and sad eyes, but you would be willing to admit any of your other secrets before the last one.
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mothdruid · 6 months
Text
Mate
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pairing. werewolf!Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x afab!reader
word count. 2.7k
warnings. this is an 18+ piece of work, minors buzz off. 18+, mdni, smut, werewolf smut, penetrative sex (p in v), oral sex (fem receiving), mating mark, jake gives a mating mark to the reader, so also biting, knotting, cream pie, Jake is in human form but his dick has a knot (sorry, not sorry)
author’s note. the last one!! here is our emotionally inept man that we all love no matter what!
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True love was weird. The entwining of two people, two souls in a special kind of warmth. A warmth that told you everything would be okay. Every bad day would pass. Negative emotions would melt away from you. Nothing could harm you as long as you had that one person in your life. And Jake had never believed in any of it.
Growing up he was told by his parents that one day he would find true love. Told him that once he found a person he shared true love with, they would get mated and spend the rest of their lives together. They would have a family together, watch their kids find true love, and so on. Jake would sit there and listen like a good son, only rolling his eyes once his mother turned her back.
True love was bogus in Jake’s eyes.
Sure, werewolves always found a mate, always had a family, and always died with their mate. It was a real cut and clear thing. Werewolves don’t live alone, always surrounded by a pack or mate. But finding someone that you practically could not live without? That was total horseshit.
Every holiday he came home his sisters went on about how they found their mate. Harping about how true love was real, telling Jake he would find someone eventually. Jake went all throughout high school and the military without ever experiencing this so-called true love. Met plenty of people, fucked a lot of them too. If true love was a thing, he would have found it by now. Or at least he believed.
It was that fateful night at the bar the pack always hung out at. Jake was actively beating everyone at the pool, Bradley being the only one coming close to beating him. Everyone was starting to back out, complaining about how Jake couldn’t let anyone else win due to his ego. Jake rolled his eyes with a big smirk before heading up to the bar. He had promised to buy a round of shots at the beginning of the night, and he assumed now was probably the time to do that.
Once he got to the bar he finally noticed you. You had to be new, he had never seen you before. And he knew that he would remember a face like yours. The way your hands moved over the tap, pulling the lever to fill the next glass of whatever draft. For the first time Jake thought about getting a beer on tap, wanting to take up as much of your time as possible. A pounding in his chest had started, something he had never really felt before. There was a sudden lump in his throat when he looked at him.
As soon as you spoke, he knew he was a goner.
But it didn’t immediately occur to him that it was ‘true love’. That was still something he rolled his eyes at, claiming that the relationship he shared with you was different. When his sisters asked him about it he would just happily say the two of you were trying things out, meshing well together.
The first time he actually considered that it might be true love was late at night. He was having a really hard time sleeping, yet you were curled up in a deep sleep next to him. A peaceful look was covering your face, one that made Jake’s heart swell. He couldn’t stop himself from staring, watching your most peaceful state. It was that night when he first said ‘I love you’ even if you weren’t awake.
But right now was different.
Right now Jake was currently sitting in the living room, waiting for you to get home. After a long talk with Javy, he had come to terms that this is true love and he had to accept it. He didn’t have to make it his entire personality, or change anything that he was doing. Simply acknowledging it would be enough. Telling you directly that he loved you. Letting you know that this was more than a simple relationship, it was one he was invested in. And one he hoped you were also invested in.
Jake immediately perked up when he heard the front door open. Anxiety bubbled inside of him slightly, thinking about how you might react to his confession. He had always assumed that you knew he loved you, whether he had formerly said it or not yet. From him asking you to move in, him taking you out for date nights, and even staying up late to make sure you got home from work safely.
“Hey,” you said as you passed the living room to the open kitchen.
Jake turned and draped an arm over the back of the couch. He watched you set your bag and keys down on the bar, letting out a deep sigh while you did. You turned around to face him and leaned back against the counter.
“Busy night?” Jake asked.
“Something like that,” you smiled at him.
“Well, come on over here and I’ll help you de-stress,” Jake waved his hand, beckoning you over.
You made your way over to him, rounding the couch to sit down next to him. His arms embraced you quickly, no hesitation in the movement. He let you lean back into him, relaxing into his chest. He pressed a kiss to your temple.
The two of you sat like that for a while. You relax into him while he prepares himself to tell you his feelings. But if anything, this moment encouraged him more to confess. The way you were trusting him with your peace, knowing that he would make sure you were well taken care of after a long day of work. He rested his head against yours lightly, embracing your prescience.
“Hmm?” You asked, knowing he had many thoughts swirling in his brain.
“What?”
“I can here you thinking,” you looked at him.
Jake let out a soft chuckle. That was another thing that he loved about you, how you could see right through him. No matter how hard he tried to hide something, you knew about it just by looking at him. You even asked him about being a werewolf on your first date. The way you just knew him like no one else.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” Jake’s voice grew soft.
“About what?” You asked with an intrigued look.
“I’m not really sure how to say it,” Jake started, “but I wanted to talk to you about my feelings.”
“Your feelings? And what feelings are those?” You took his hand in yours, running your thumb softly over his palm.
“Feelings towards you,” Jake said.
That made you perk up, completely invested in what he was about to tell you. You turned your body to face him, sitting up in the process. An awkward smirk covered Jake’s lips. You reached out and placed a hand on his knee, the other found his hand. You laced your fingers with his, a warmth blossoming between the two of you. Jake huffed lightly before he continued.
“Well, I think you might know what it’s about,” Jake said.
“Mmm,” you hummed lightly, “enlighten me.”
“Well, we’ve been together for a while now,” Jake swallowed, “and I’ve noticed there is something I haven’t told you yet.”
A small smile tugged at your lips. You rubbed your thumb softly against the inside of his palm.
“I love you,” Jake finally said.
It felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest. Finally speaking his feelings into the world, freeing them from his mind. He studies your face, waiting to see some type of change. But the changes were small. Your gaze lightened and your smile grew a tiny bit.
“I know you do,” you inched closer to him, “and I love you too.”
You moved over top of Jake, looking down at him. Your hands moved to either side of him, gripping the arm of the couch for support. He brought a hand up to your face, thumb brushing over your skin lightly.
“You know,” Jake whispered.
“I know.”
“It’s true love though,” Jake whispered as your lips inched closer to his, “like I could mate you and not regret it.”
That made your heart skip a beat.
“Mate me?”
“Mhm,” Jake kissed you briefly, “share the rest of my life with you.”
Another kiss.
“Have a family with you.”
Another kiss.
“Experience everything with you.”
Another kiss, but this one didn’t stop.
The two of you were enamored with each other now. Lips dancing in a rhythm with one another. One hand was holding the junction of your jaw, the other slipping down and around to your ass. He started kneading your ass over your jeans, slipping his hand into your back pocket at some point, eliminating a tiny layer. Your body lowered onto his body, slotting between his thighs.
“Jake,” you whimpered as his lips moved.
A trail of kisses started down your jaw to your neck. Jake eventually stopped that trail at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. The curve of it was taunting, begging him to be bitten. But Jake refrained. Instead he licked and sucked at the spot, earning a few hip rolls from you. This continued for a few minutes, the two of you rutting together like teenagers while Jake marked up the spot where a mating mark should go.
Soft sounds were coming from the both of you, filling the room. Jake was marveling at the way your hips rolled against his, you moaning at the sensitivity he was causing on your neck. Somehow the two of you started to maneuver into a different position. Jake placed you in his lap, both of your legs bracketing his thighs. This way Jake was able to help roll your hips, and take your shirt off.
The warmth of his mouth covered one of your nipples immediately. Wet muscle swirling around your hardened bud, the other bud being rolled in between his thumb and forefinger. You arched your back, pressing your chest closer to his face. The sensations were guiding your body, as if you had no control. It was as if Jake was puppeteering you, controlling your moves with his own. You started grinding down into him, feeling his cock hard against your ass.
His hands started to ghost down your sides, palms barely touching your skin. His mouth moved to your other breast, taking your nipple into his mouth. Jake was taking his sweet time, enjoying you to the fullest extent. Savoring every sound and reaction you had to offer him. Every stupid wolf instinct in him was screaming to mark you, mate you.
He wanted the word to know how much you meant to him. Wanted everyone knowing that you were his world. The person who brightened his days, made the problems he faced seem solvable, and even helped calm down his egotistical side. Mating you would solve all of his problems, eliminating any bad feelings that he ever thought. A low growl bubbled in his throat.
“Jake,” you whimpered at the vibrations around your nipple.
“Perfect,” his lips started to press kisses between your breasts, “so fucking perfect, don’t ever wanna lose you.”
His hair was soft as you threaded your fingers through it, reveling in the small amount of shagginess he was allowing. When you had met him he was a clean cut and short hair kind of guy, but over time he had noticed you liked it a little longer. Long enough for you to run your fingers through and tug on it, long enough for it to peek out from under the occasional hat he wore.
It were small things like that that you picked up on. Him learning how to fold your laundry the way you liked without asking, remembering how you liked your food cooked, and so many more things. The way he just learned so much about you without asking, but also asking when he couldn’t fully figure the thing he needed to know out. You never needed to tell him twice, he always just knew. Even knowing when you had a bad day, making sure your time at home was relaxing. He was just perfectly in tune with you.
That’s why you never threw a fit about him not saying the three words. You knew he felt the three words, and his actions were definitely showing that to you.
“You won’t lose me,” you whispered while grinding, “never gonna lose me.”
With that Jake was rolling you over, back hitting the couch. He made quick work of you pants and underwear, tossing them to some unknown area of the living room. Without warning he was parting your legs, diving in between them to lap at your cunt. A gasp left you as he started to lick your clit. One of his hands slipped under the back of your thigh, then pressed it close to your body. His other hand pressed your other leg out, wanting you in whatever position he wanted.
Noises continued to pour from you like a fountain, a never ending flow of sound. Jake was loving it, loving the way he was able to show his love to you. Make sure you never forget what or how he felt for you.
As much as you wanted to keep feeling his tongue work you over, you needed him close to you. You tugged at his hair enough to get him to pull up from between your legs. Your lips crashed together as you started pushing his sweats down. Jake took the hint and sat back on his heels, pulling his shirt off then pushing sweatpants off.
“Knot me.”
Jake went into a frenzy after that. He lined himself up with your entrance, pushing his tip in you. It was a few thrusts until he was completely in you, stretching you out. Jake had always been a little big, but nothing you shied away from. The stretch was amazing, satisfying even. Little crescents were starting to form under your grip on his shoulders. Jake looked at you for a look of consent before he started thrusting.
His thrusts were deep and sensual. It felt like he was deliberately trying to stretch out your entire abdomen, each thrust feeling deeper than the last. There was a small shift in his angle, then you were seeing stars. That sensitive spot inside of you was now being pound into. Jake pressed his forehead to yours, staring deep into your eyes. He brought a hand up to cradle your jaw.
“I love you so much,” Jake whispered with a groan.
“Mate me.”
Jake’s thrusts stuttered when he heard the words.
“Are, are you serious?”
“I love you, and I want to love you forever,” you said.
Jake smashed his lips to yours, tongues mingling ferociously. You could feel his knot starting to swell, catching and tugging against your entrance every now and then. Jake broke the kiss and nuzzled into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His tongue was running over the skin, wetting and nipping at the skin. You could feel his thrusts starting to get sloppy, signaling he would be done at any moment. You clenched around him, sending the both of you over the edge.
A sharp pleasurable wave washed over you. Jake’s teeth had broke the skin of your neck and shoulder. His knot stretched out your entrance, slipping inside of you and locking the two of you together. You could feel his cum filling you. The feeling had your legs shaking, body exhausted from everything that just happened. Jake’s bite let up, mouth retracting from the new mark. He marveled at his work for a moment before going back in and licking it softly.
There was a warm sensation in your chest. It was new but comforting, like drinking hot cocoa on a cold day. Not only was there warmth, but there was a surge of general emotion. A type of connection, the mating bond.
“Do you..?” Jake asked softly after pressing a kiss near your mark.
“Yeah,” you answered.
Jake brought a hand to your face, running the backs of his fingers over your cheek. His heart couldn’t help but swell as he looked at you. It was as if he could feel everything you were feeling. It was finally all clicking into place. Why would you ever mate someone you experiencing true love with?
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pan-annigans · 13 days
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Jay x Nya: best ship!!!
Zane x Pixal: they are soulmates and no one can say otherwise.
Kai x Skylor: the two of them balance each other well, plus seeing Kai get all lovey-dovey around Skylor is just cute.
Lloyd x Akita: Akita likes Lloyd for himself and isn’t interested in his status as the Green Ninja, she just might be the one person he could be with without having to worry about keeping up appearances.
Cole x Vania: they’re just great together (as lovers or as friends), their dynamic is sweet and both admire and encourage each other with just simple honest words.
hi!! thank you so much!
I'm going to post art for all of these, along with a few of my thoughts on the ships that have been sent to me. Just for funsies :)
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Fun fact, I used to hate Jaya. I thought it was really forced in the canon, and Jay's really obsessive behavior that is the catalyst for all of the events in Skybound always really bothered me? But tumblr has completely turned me around on this ship. They have their moments in canon, but in fanon they're really wonderful. thanks tumblr <3
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these two...... 🥺they are really good i will admit. I'm a big fan of glaciershipping myself and I tend to prefer it over pixane, but these two are so lovely to each other and i totally see the appeal. I just wish pixal wasn't so sidelined in the canon fr what were they doing with her character??? let her be around more often let her and zane be sweet together. please smh
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SKYLOR ALSO HAS NOTHING TO DO MOST OF THE TIME-- honestly this show sidelines like all of its female characters so hard. but these two are great toooo theyre sweeeet 😊 i just wish skylor was used for more than cameos. i like that she's the only one that can consistently shake kai's ego it's a great dynamic
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lloyd and akita!! i'm gonna be so real with you guys i forget about akita so often ;v; which is a shame... i give her the award for most sidelined female character because she existed for half a season. but she and lloyd are sweet! I don't tend to ship lloyd with anyone personally, but i do love that they meet under the circumstances of "lloyd is in a world where his name and status mean nothing so he has no pressure to perform". it's a fantastic break for him. holy shit he deserves it
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im gonna be so honest with all of you um. i actually. havent seen MotM yet. i was in the middle of my rewatch, and i got up to the point i stopped, right before MotM, and then Netflix changed their watch policies. and then of course i got busy
but from what i've seen of these two in fanon they seem alright! I usually prefer them in other wlw or mlm ships because of ONE ninjago vine compliation thing i saw with the two of them as this one tiktok and i've never been able to think of them as a couple since then. But they seem like they have a lovely friendship, whether that ends up turning to romance or not!
Thank you so much for sending me an ask, this was a lot of fun and I got to draw a lot of characters that I've never drawn before! To those of you who have sent me asks and reblogs and comments on the original post, I will be working through all of them in chronological order from when I received them in my activity tab :)
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nhothicket · 3 months
Text
Ever create a band au even though you cant draw instruments?
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more info below the cut :>
Meet Bdubs, 38, stage name BdoubleO - Boomer is often mistaken for his first name, but is just another nickname for the pile. Infamous online, if it weren't for the fact that he makes disgustingly good music he would probably have more hate followers than genuine fans. The line between charming asshole and just asshole is one he fails to tread lightly most days, but he's mostly harmless. Let's just say the Bdoubleo could also stand for boorish. A bit of a sellout, but he enjoys what he does and many appreciate his extremely.. candid attitude. Best likened to a cartoon villain dressed as a rockstar, with the ego to match. (It's usually his unrelenting pretentiousness that gets him into Twitter spats.)
Thank you @foxden-frontier for always helping out with my stupid aus ^v^
Annoying at worst, unfortunately very charismatic at best. You could say he's a softie at heart, but that implies its at all difficult to spot. Once he's done "clapping back at all the haters", in person he's still got a temper (he thinks he has a bad boy reputation to uphold) but is enthusiastically friendly.
Etho, 32, resident keytarist of creatively named band Canadian Bacon. Joined by his two best friends, Pause the frontman and bassist, and Beef their drummer. A deceptively popular band if judging by their permanent rough draft name and their nerdy-college-student dress code. Etho himself is just a guy who likes playing music with his buddies, their hobby having blown up under their noses. Now, as an unfortunately successful touring artist, Etho's anonymity is scarce, but he continues to wear his mask to discourage widespread photos of his face. In spirit. He's concerned about having his face plastered all over fan accounts, which still occurs, but a perk of having a completely rabid fanbase is that many will defend your boundaries to their last dying breath. Like his face, his legal name is out and about online, but its similarly discouraged. Best likened to just a guy.
If asked on the subject of his scar, the entire band has various different whimsical stories, brand new everytime. His lack of internet presence means Pause and Beef are free to make up whatever misinformation about him as they please completely unchecked (in jest of course), and they do take advantage of that. Many of these alternative facts are passed around on wikis and in fan circles.
To say Bdubs is jealous of Canadian Bacon's popularity is an understatement. They weren't even trying at all and yet they're the hot shit? But instead of putting that jealousy to hatred (which he had considered of course) he's instead set himself on proving himself. And if that means impressing Etho then so be it. Why does it mean impressing Etho? Good question, never ask it again. They say keep your enemies close, and Bdubs' enemies don't deserve personal space.
As it turns out, Etho wasn't too difficult to impress or maybe Bdubs was just that amazing. Either way, they end up hitting it off. Their friendship is an interesting one, mostly because Etho's fans basically hunt Bdubs for sport online. We're talking scribbled out of pictures, get behind me, #FreeEtho. Etho thinks he seems pretty cool though, if not a bit much sometimes, so no harm no foul.
Okay, rapid fire, some other notes for this au.
> Etho's legal name is Ethel. Because it is. My heart is so set on it. But if you're boring, Ethan or Ezekiel or something work too I guess.
> Etho's keytar mimics a more traditional guitar in most cases, though he's known to experiment a lot with how far he can push that.
> Etho's scar is from a mugging in this au, not a very fun story to tell. Beef practicing his brand new razor blade throwing hobby or fighting a bear to beat Pause in a bet is much more entertaining.
> Canadian Bacon is meant to have a manager, but I couldn't think of anyone I felt fit. Just a note.
> Bdubs has a habit of grabbing Etho by his tie and pulling him down to his level or otherwise using it as a leash. Etho doesn't usually wear the tie outside of show stuff or interviews, but he wears it around Bdubs because thinks its funny. When there's no tie that doesn't stop Bdubs, collars and hoodie strings are subject to the same usage.
> Etho isn't aware of how infamous Bdubs is when they meet as they meet at a festival with a big group of other musicians. Most of which already know Bdubs as his more excitable friendly self. He only finds out later when Bdubs complains about Etho's fans flaming him anytime he mentions him.
> Bdubs still has a self-imposed curfew, 10pm every night unless it conflicts with a show. He needs his beauty sleep.
> The trigger reason for the animosity toward Bdubs is due to being blamed by fans for the split of his last band that had a pretty hardcore cult following (OOG, I've not named their band yet), and that has since snowballed into what it is today, despite his actions being relatively harmless. To note, this was not an assumption at all promoted by either party, it was entirely a fanmade judgement.
> For those who can, picture s5 jungle Bdubs mixed with drunken OOG(E) ctm maps for his approximate personality. Still goofy but with a sharper tongue and a lot worse of a temper.
> Originally I considered Cleo as Bdubs' manager so he's not all alone in narrative sense, I still think it's not a bad idea I'd love to see her chew him out for acting like a moron. Ren or Scar would be also be options for manager.
> Bdubs needs a touring band, but I'm not well versed enough in the hermits to actually pick one out. Just a note.
Okay, that's most of it! There's some more pg-13 headcanons for this au, along the lines of fuck yeah rock'n roll lifestyle, but it's not really important I'm sure just that is enough to get the gist of it. Thank you for reading this overly long note. ^v~
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