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#but some are running very low... rip
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do you get incredibly excited over cataloguing candles or are you normal
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i want a blunt soooooooooooooooo bad
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kteezy997 · 6 months
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The Candy Man-Part One// W.W.
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Warnings: Smut, mention of masturbation, male receiving oral sex, virgin Wonka, cowgirl, missionary, some dirty talk, curse words, cream pie, female receiving oral sex, oh and cheating on spouse A/n: I have not seen Wonka yet, so there are NO spoilers here!
As a young housewife, there wasn't much for you to do. You had done the housework for the week and done all the grocery shopping, and it was only Wednesday. This would make for a long, boring week.
It would be different if you had a child to look after, but sadly, that hadn't happened yet. And it may never happen if your husband continues to show such a low interest in sex. Sometimes it felt like he forgot you even existed.
You wished he would just give you a baby, if he didn't want to give you attention. That way you'd have not only something to occupy your time, but you'd also have someone to love, and for someone to love you. You weren't even sure if your husband loved you anymore. Your relationship wasn't the same as when you were first married two years ago.
These days, all you really wanted was for him to come home, rip your clothes off, and fuck you like he hadn't seen a woman in years. You wanted to feel desired, so badly. You had recently picked up a habit of touching yourself sexually while your husband was away at work. You were so starved.
.....
Autumn had come and gone by this time of the year and it was becoming quite frigid outside. With winter well on the way, you turned on your fireplace in the living room. You didn't really care for the bear skin rug that your husband insisted on having in front of the fireplace, but it wasn't worth the fight to try to get rid of it.
With the fire going, you snuggled up into a cozy sweater and put on some mindless radio station to fill in the silence of the empty house. As you listened to the radio and did some mild tidying about the room, you wondered if you should maybe get a dog, or maybe a cat.
Then the doorbell rang, that's weird. You thought. You seldom had any visitors during the day. You walked over and opened the door.
"Hello, Miss. My name is Willy Wonka! Would you care to sample some of my chocolate on this fine day?"
"Fine day? It's freezing out there," you said as you were awestruck by this man's beauty, his bright purple coat and milk chocolate-colored top hat added a sort of zany zest to his attractiveness. "um, would you care to come in and warm up for a minute?" you said politely, nodding to his briefcase that you assumed was filled with sweets, adding, "I do love chocolate."
"Why, yes, if you're sure you don't mind." he smiled, and his green eyes were dazzling.
"No, I don't mind at all, sir."
Willy took his hat off, and his curls fell downward in a bit of a mess as he stepped into the warm home. "Thank you, I didn't get your name."
"Oh, I'm y/n. Please, sit down, the fire is going."
"It is quite toasty in here, thank you, y/n." Willy said, taking a seat on the couch closest to the fireplace. “Very interesting choice of a rug, y/n.” he chirped.
“Oh that? My husband insisted on it, it’s so dreadful. But it is rather soft.”
“Hm.” he nodded looking at the luscious, dark colored fur on the floor. He then looked at her, cheerily, “So, would you like to try some?” He picked up his briefcase.
“Of course.” you said with a smile, truly wanting to try some of him instead, but you’d give his candy a chance for now. He was so damn handsome. His hair was gorgeous, you wanted to run your fingers through it, maybe even pull it.
He opened his briefcase in his lap, letting you choose which candy you wanted.
You picked a piece of chocolate, and he told you the name of it, and its special ingredients. You listened to him, but ultimately got lost in his innocent yet sexy eyes. You bit into the treat, and it was rich and velvety sweet as it melted in your mouth. It was absolutely delicious. The best candy you ever had in your life.
“Mr. Wonka, this is perfection, it’s absolutely divine.”
Willy smiled widely, “I’m pleased to hear it. I have only ever hoped that each person that tries my chocolate will have that same reaction.”
He was so genuinely confident and excited about his creation. The passion he had was evident.
“I’ll take every one of this flavor that you have, Mr. Wonka.” you said, taking another delicious bite.
“Wonderful!” he exclaimed, “And please, call me Willy.”
“Willy.” you said, softly. You wanted to moan his name. But how to get there? You improvised. “Um, why don’t you stay for a bit longer? I can put in a pot of tea, if you’d like.”
“That sounds lovely y/n, or should I call you Mrs…”
“Oh, it’s Mrs. Hudson, but you can just call me y/n.” you insisted, hopping up and going to the kitchen heating up some tea. You had to have this man. Cheating was wrong, but your husband would never, ever know. He never wanted sex anymore, but you couldn’t go without it like he did. You were so needy, especially now, after meeting the handsome Mr. Wonka.
You had plenty of time to have Willy fuck you and send him on his way with his payment for the chocolate, all before Mr. Hudson got home. You would have to make Mr. Wonka an offer he couldn’t refuse, much like you couldn’t refuse his delectable sweets.
You carried two cups of steaming, aromatic tea, one for you and one for Willy. You hoped it would warm him up properly.
“Here you are, sir.”
“Why thank you, very kindly, my lady.” he took the teacup from you, and you felt weak in your knees when your hand was briefly brushed by his fingers. You watched as he carefully brought the rim of the cup to his lips, taking a small sip. “Mm, that’s quite good. A perfect cup of tea, y/n.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.” you said, sitting down next to him and taking a sip for yourself. You didn’t know how to get this man naked; you weren’t finding any viable option that wouldn’t be too crude or forward. You felt you were running out of time. You couldn’t let him leave with the risk of never seeing him again. This delightful, beautiful man could not escape you.
“Well, this has been quite the pleasure.” he said, in a farewell tone. He took one last sip of his tea.
You haven’t had the pleasure, yet.
“But I will get out if your hair,” Willy stood up, continuing, “and go about my merry way. Thank you for your-"
“Wait! Willy-" you shot up to your feet as you spoke but couldn’t finish a sentence. You just started into his eyes.
“Yes?” he asked, frowning at you, utterly confused by your behavior.
You didn’t have the words, so you threw yourself at him, kissing him hungrily.
He took ahold of you, and pulled away from the kiss, “Y/n, are you mad?”
“Oh, god! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
“No, it is alright. It was kind of…nice.”
“Yeah? Mr. Wonka, I had an idea of pleasing you the way you pleased me with your chocolate. If you’ll indulge me?”
He raised his eyebrows, “I have to say, I’m intrigued.”
You put your hands on his chest, making him sit back down on the couch. Your hands then went to his fly.
“Whoa! What are you doing?” he asked, panicky.
“Shh-sh. Relax, Willy. Do you like me?”
“Ye-yes.” he trembled with nerves. “I find you very pretty.”
“I really like you. Have you…ever been with a woman before?” You rested your hands on his upper thighs, dangerously close to his member. It was visible through his trousers although he wasn’t even hard yet.
Willy shook his head, “No, ma’am.”
“Awe, don’t be scared. I’ll take care of you, okay. Do you want that, Willy?” You ran your hands slowly around the outline of his cock.
He gulped, watching your hands on his pants, “Yes, I think I would really like that.”
“Good.” You beamed, unzipping his trousers, and pulling his cock out. He was much thicker and longer than your husband. You were excited about being Willy’s first. You wet his cock with your tongue, and sucked him, moaning and slurping as you did so. You wanted him so bad; you sucked his cock like your life depended on it.
A string of “oh oh oh”’s and “mmm’”s fell from Willy’s mouth as you worked over his cock. He writhed on the couch and placed a hand on your head.
He was hard as stone after a moment, and you had been wet since he sat on your couch the first time. “Oh, Willy. Do you feel good, my sweet?”
“Yes,” he panted, his eyes glazed over, “very good.”
You stood up, and dropped your underwear to the ground, kicking them elsewhere. Then, you mounted him. His hands instinctively went to your waist. You reached down, placing his member between your folds. You sank down on him, feeling the intense stretch of your vaginal walls. You moaned in a slight pain initially, because his was larger than your husband, and you had never been with anyone else.
“Are you alright, y/n?”
“Oh, yes, darling, just give me a moment.” you adjusted, and then started to bounce in his lap.
Willy watched you in wonder and awe, then he’d look down to watch your pussy envelope his cock. “Haa, this is incredible.” he moaned, gripping your hips harder.
You quickened your pace. Sinful wet sounds came from your pussy. God, you needed this. The friction alone was titillating, but the tip of his cock would hit your cervix every so often and it was bliss, the whole scenario.
"Oh, y/n!" Willy cried your name over and over again. His hands explored your clothed body, groping your curves.
Damn, it felt so nice to be touched, and his hands were surprisingly big, and he knew how to use them.
You held yourself up with your hands on his shoulders, and slowly rocked back and forth on his cock. You noticed him eyeing your chest. "Unbutton my blouse, Willy."
He bit his lip with an eager gleam in his eyes, and he opened up the front of your blouse, letting your breasts plop out in his face.
Willy's eyes widened, he took his eyes away from your tits to look up in your eyes, "May I feel them?" he asked with a soft whimper.
"Yes, absolutely." you huffed, taking his hands and clapping them onto your naked breasts.
He gently squeezed and kneaded your breasts, then rolled your nipples between his fingers.
He was so sweet, and so curious about your body. It was so hot. You wanted to get off, you hoped to cum all over his dick. You held onto his arms firmly and rode him hard. His cock pounded away at your walls wildly, and you contracted your pussy around his girth.
"Ah! Fuck this is so good! I'm gonna...I'm gonna come!"
"Oh, oh!" Willy held your waist, and you felt his cock twitch inside you.
Your tummy swirled, and your legs went limp as you came.
"What's happening?" Willy cried, "What is this?" You felt him shoot ropes of his milky cum inside of you.
You took his worried face in your hands, "You're alright, my candy man. You had an orgasm. It's a wonderful thing."
"Oh," he panted, "yes, I suppose it is. A fantastic thing! Gosh, y/n, that felt like chocolate tastes, and chocolate is the best thing in the world!" he was so excited, like he'd discovered something that no one else had experienced before.
You giggled, "Well, I'm flattered, Willy." you felt hot and sweaty, you ran your hand down the back of your neck. You felt Willy's eyes on your tits.
"Your breasts, they are absolutely beautiful." he took them in his hands, just admiring the fullness of them.
You felt your pussy throb at the sight. Your husband never paid much attention to your body, but Willy seemed to be enthralled by you. You noticed how the glow of the fire highlighted his cocoa-colored curls. It was so pretty, his hair looked like the work of a master chocolatier. You ran your fingers through it, feeling the silkiness of his glorious mane.
"Can we do it again?" he asked you, then nodded to the floor, "There? On the bear skin rug? It would be comfortable for you."
"You're so thoughtful. Fuck me again, Willy Wonka. Pound me into the floor if you must."
Willy smiled like a kid on Christmas morning and hoisted you up and then carefully placed you down on the rug.
The fur was plush and soothing on your back. You put your arms up by your head to get comfy.
Willy ran his hands down your body. He looked at you like you were a gift he had been waiting for. "You are so beautiful. Your husband does not know how lucky he is."
"That's sweet, Willy, but let's not mention my husband."
He nodded, "Right." Then, he dipped down, pressing his lips to your stomach.
"Mm." you moaned, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation. You could feel Willy's semen dripping out of you. You wanted more.
Willy left small wet kisses down passed your navel, lower and lower, and you couldn't help but push his head down where you needed him most.
"How do I do this, y/n? Is it like... licking a lollipop?" he asked, naively.
You smiled at him and said, "Yes, kind of. Like a sucker with a chewy center...but you're not in a big hurry to get to the center. You're just trying to enjoy the flavor on the outside."
He took a second to ponder over what you had said, then he nodded, "Okay, got it."
He was a quick learner. He lapped steadily on your clit; his pacing was perfect, not too fast, not too slow. He must have had lots of suckers in his life.
"You can use the tip of your tongue also, Willy." you whimpered through the pleasure.
"Oh, okay." he answered, his voice muffled as he didn't move away from your pussy as he spoke.
The vibrations from his voice sent tingles through your body. That coupled with Willy massaging your clit with his tongue and letting the tip dance between your folds, led you to your second orgasm. You cried out in ecstasy. "Willy Wonka, you are a god!"
"No, I'm just a chocolate maker." he said, nonchalantly. He then sat on his knees, his hand around his cock. He ran the tip of his cock along the joint of your wet folds, coating himself in your cum.
"Ooh." you moaned, tucking your fingers into the furry rug as firmly as you could.
Willy slid into you, then back out. "Ha, you're so wet."
"Fuck me hard, Willy." you purred.
With that, he shoved his cock into you, bucking his hips roughly. His hips smacked your skin with each thrust. He put his whole length into you. He gripped your thighs and started to get faster.
You squeezed him with your thighs, and he grew more confident in what he was doing and picked up a rhythm. You watched his handsome face scrunch up as he worked his hips, his thick brows furrowing in both pleasure and concentration.
You wondered what your husband would do if he knew that the candy man stopped by and made you come on the bear skin rug he loved so much. Oh, the risk was worth it! For Willy was perhaps better at sex than making chocolate.
@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss
@chalametbich
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messylustt · 1 year
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౨ৎ ‧˚
𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲...
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 7.7k words.
fic masterlist previous part pt nine (finale)
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smut; blood kink??; female oral; he’s got fangs and claws, im sure theres a kink for that (biting etc); a lil bit of web play (basically instead of rope or cuffs); dominant/top miguel (for the most part hehe); praising; first time; unprotected (but imagine that for some reason you are on birth control); fluff; for the serum stuff that Miguel takes I am totally making the reason why he takes it up (coz there was so many different variables); slight violence + mentions of small injuries — god, was his touches something else. the feel of him and the feel of you. miguel finally gets to have you. and would you look at that…you’ve all formed a little plan to get rid of the masked men once and for all.
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“Mm.” Miguel hums to himself, eyeing your laid out body, before he’s lifting a fraction of your shirt.
Your legs are still wide and around his waist, and his hands move to widen them even more, pushing them up slightly, as he leans down towards your stomach placing open-mouthed kisses along your skin. Goosebumps almost immediately appear, even more so when you feel his tongue lick out along the side of your waist.
It was where his claw marks were. Where he had accidentally cut you. Your breathing stutters as he licks off some of the blood, his large hands holding your thighs. At the whole ordeal your head rolls back, your teeth coming down to bite down on your lip. Hard. It was a type of sting that sent pleasurable shocks through your body.
Miguel’s licks and kisses lead down your stomach to the edge of your pants. He looks up at you from between your legs. “Cariño, if I’m finally gonna get to taste you…I’m gonna need you to see.” He has a sly smirk edging his lips as you glance towards him.
“Finally?” You breathlessly question. He said that as if he’d been wanting to do this for forever.
But his eyes narrow a fraction, crawling up your body, he tilts your chin up as your wide eyes catch his. His hand slips to hold part of your throat as he leans forward and runs his tongue right across your bottom lip. You had bit down hard. Hard enough to draw blood.
You could see the red on his tongue when he drew away, a lustful gaze very prominent in his matching coloured eyes. “Ay, you have no idea…” He whispers in response. And just as he goes to go back down your body you grab him into a kiss.
One he easily accepts, his hand supporting the back of your neck, so that it didn’t strain from the lean up. You then shake your head, because his hand had begun to unbutton your pants, clearly thinking about going back down your body. “You don’t have to do that.” You say, holding part of his hair.
But he doesn’t listen, going back to the end of the bed, as he pulls (rips) your pants off, your panties now visible to his hungry eyes. “Miguel—“
“Maybe this should be my side of the deal?” He widens your legs, you having closed them. His gaze hasn’t shifted from your panties, and more or less your pussy. “You know what…yeah…it is.”
“Really, it’s…” you drift off, not because you don’t want him to. God, you felt the urge to clench your thighs at the thought. It’s just… “I’ve never…”
Miguel looks up at you, slowly catching on. He held back an almost satisfied grin as he kissed your open thigh, dragging his lips along your skin before he speaks. “I’ll be so gentle…cariño.” His kisses move to your inner thigh. “So…so, gentle.” His gaze gets caught up again in your clothed pussy, as his fingers itch to reach out.
“I promise…that’s all I wanna do… I wanna make you feel good. You wanna feel good…right, y/n?” It’s more so a demand now, his low tone making you really want to close your legs. He looks back up at you, his breath now right over your pussy, making it clench around nothing.
“Christ…” You breathe, staring down at the visual of Miguel O’hara between your legs.
“Just…” He licks his lips, leaning closer to your clothed pussy, as his claws extended over your bare thighs. “Just a try…to try…see how you like it.”
Then you find yourself nodding. And Miguel feels elated, as he moved one hand towards your pussy his breath still warm against it. He then uses the pad of his thumb to press and slowly rub against your covered clit.
Your hips jolt, making Miguel hold your stomach down with his free hand, your leg now leaning over his shoulder. “Gotta stay still, cariño…gotta stay still for me…hm?”
He began to rub in circles, noticing a forming wet patch. “Ay, y/n…see? It does feel good.” He breathes. “It feels so good.” He mutters again to himself this time, quickening his fingers’ movements, making your hips unintentionally shift again. His hand on your stomach pressed you further into his bed, his tongue coming out to lick the cotton of your panties.
A small mix of a hitch of your breath and a whimper falls from your lips. “That feel good? Yeah?” Miguel’s finger quickens over your clit, his tongue poking out and close to your dripping hole.
“Miguel—” You cut yourself off, a shameful quiet moan slipping.
“Dios, it’s like you’ve never been touched.” He says breathlessly, as his rubbing soon grew not nearly enough. Miguel used one of his claws to pull away the edge of your panties, that rested by your lower stomach. He looks up at you again to see an almost shy look spreading across your face.
Miguel thought you only meant that you’d never been eaten out before. Not that you’d never had sex. His breathing grows shorter at the realisation that you’d never been touched. At all. No one else has seen you like this…and no one else ever will.
“Lift your hips.” He mutters quickly. “Come on.” He sounds close to impatience. So much so that he actually gives up on pulling your panties off, and instead decides to just rip them with his fangs.
You gasp as the air hits your exposed pussy, Miguel having kept your legs spread, as he tossed your destroyed panties to the side.
“Mm, such a pretty little thing who can’t stay still…and who’s so…wet.” He grinned, two of his fingers moving to experimentally run up your soaked slit. “Look at you…” He’s breathless. “Practically dripping onto my fingers. Already…cariño?”
Your breathing has given up on trying to pick a rhythmic beat. Your mind can’t focus on anything else but the feel of Miguel’s fingers. Which keep swirling and moving up and down your pussy, spreading your arousal around. He’s taking his time, and it makes you go against his hand on your stomach—your hips moving slightly down into him.
“Didn’t I tell you to stop moving?” His question is a straight demand. “I want to enjoy myself. For as long…as I want.” His warm breath went back to hovering over your pussy, as his hand drew away to lick his fingers clean. Your eyes widen at this, your breathing getting choked in your throat. “So…sweet. Did you know that you tasted this sweet?…No…I bet you didn’t. My sweet innocent girl, huh?”
He wrapped his hand back around your thighs, his claws digging into your flesh—not to cause harm but to leave a possible indent. He’d be making many more anyway. And just as his tongue was about to lean forward and taste he spoke, muttering quickly as he looked up at you. Though he was impatient to try, he didn’t want you do be too nervous. “‘You’re gonna let me try…right? Make you feel good, as I said I would? Por favor….cariño. You can tell me to stop…” He leans a little closer, his breath now tickling your throbbing clit.
You quickly nod. “I need a proper answer.” He says, to which you mutter a quick. “Yes…yes.”
Miguel doesn’t hesitate as he immediately leans all the way, and licks a long stripe up your entire pussy. You gulp—the cold feel of his tongue and spit contrasting with your heated core, making your eyes want to roll.
Miguel groaned into you, as he lapped at your pussy, easily becoming addicted to yet another part of you. “Mm…taste so good for me…so good…just for me right?” He mutters out, looking back up at you—his hair strewn over his forehead as his tongue gave your pussy kitten licks. “Oh—god, Miguel.” You moaned out, your chest heaving up and down.
“Hm?” He wanted an answer, but he wasn’t leaving your pussy alone. So through choked pleasure you tried to speak. “Y-yes…for…you.”
“That’s right…” He spoke to your clit now. “All for me.” He began to suck, making your back arch off the bed, and this time Miguel let’s you, his hand instead sliding up your stomach, and under your shirt, going straight for the edge of your bra.
His claws softly dragged across your skin, all the way around to your back, managing to unclip your bra. How he could multitask so well, you’d love to know. Pulling your bra out from under your shirt, he pushed the material up, exposing your tits.
His tongue didn’t let up its feverish sucking, licking, and kissing. Miguel’s small groans of approval and lust sending multitudes of shivers up your spine—your entire body. Then the tip of his claw brushes over one of your already peaked nipples.
The hitch in your breath was hint enough to Miguel that you liked it. He occasionally shifted from rubbing the pad of his finger in circles over your nipple, to pinching it gently between his claws. Then as his tongue began to press harder, closer to your dripping hole his large hand completely wrapped around your tit, squeezing and playing with it.
Your head is now knocked back against Miguel’s pillow, just as his tongue slightly thrusts inside your pussy. You gasp at the feeling. “Carajo…your pretty little hole is so…tight.”
Your body is beginning to sweat, your face entirely flushed as Miguel continues to thrust his long tongue inside you, his nose brushing along your throbbing clit. God, was it throbbing. You began to slightly squirm under his tongues abuse, feeling your stomach tightening.
“Mm.” Miguel chuckled into your pussy. “Are you gonna cum?” His tone is almost teasing, his hand continuing to massage your tit—having moved to your other one. “Cause it feels like your gonna cum all…over my tongue. Isn’t that right, cariño?”
You hastily nod, breathing heavy as your stomach tightens. “Uh…I’m—“
Miguel places his whole mouth over your pussy, continuing his pleasurable torture, making your back arch off the bed, as your orgasm crashes over you. “Oh, fuck—Miguel.” Your breathy moan makes Miguel ache in his suit. A suit he’d very much had enough of.
Miguel makes sure he eats up all your cum, not moving away from your pussy until your thighs are twitching with slight overstimulation. When he leaves your cunt, your back slumps against the mattress, breathing extremely hard, your forehead sheened with sweat. In one swift movement Miguel is pulling his suit off, letting your gaze stop on his hips and chest and abs.
He’s crawling back over your body, not before pulling you closer to him by your thighs. He cages you in, leaning closer to your face, as he still licks his lips. He leant forward and slowly—torturously—kissed your cheek. “Thanks, cariño.” He whispered in your ear, his tongue slightly darting out in a lick. He couldn’t resist, your skin just tasted so delicious.
With his large body caging you in and his kisses moving to your neck you manage to slip your hand into his hair, pulling his head back. You could almost feel him entirely, if he just leaned his hips down a fraction. But he seemed to enjoy the teasing, so you decide to grip harder on his hair, earning that same tiny whimper that contradicted his entire attitude, as you wrapped your legs tighter around his hips.
And with his loosened form—result of your hair tugging—you manage to somewhat flip you both, your legs now in a straddle over him—you having had the advantage of your wrapped legs. Miguel narrows his eyes at the action, looking up at you, as his hands fly to your hips, going to speak on how he’d rather be on top, when you completely sit down on him, making his words choke and die in his throat.
You placed your hands on his chest for support, and Miguel quickly grabs your wrists—still attached to his chest. Fuck, now you could feel him. And shit did he feel big, hard against your pussy, already dripping again. At the feel of your pretty cunt against Miguel’s cock his lips twitch up in a pleasured snarl. His grip tightened around your wrists. “I like being in control…y/n.”
“I can tell.” You say, moving your hips experimentally along him. He hisses at this, pulling at your arms and making you lose your support so that you fall against his chest. “Miguel.” You partially groan in annoyance making him smirk in amusement. His hands then wrap tightly around your waist, keeping you there. “Miguel…” You say again. “I want—“
“But this is my side of the deal, y/n.” He moved to leave kisses along your jaw. “So, isn’t it about what I want?” He teased. “What I want…” He moved to your ear, beginning to shift his body to move you both, successfully flipping you. When your head hits the pillow your hands suddenly get stuck.
You look up and behind you to see your wrists are attached together by an orange web, which is then attached to the head of the bed. You quickly look back to a smug Miguel. He hand used his web bands swiftly before taking them off, and settling on top of you again. “Miguel—“
“Shh…” he dragged his bottom lip up your neck, his fangs grazing your rapidly beating pulse. “This is a l-little unfair.” You say between breathes.
“Is it?” Miguel asks. “You used your advantages before…now I’m using mine.” He smiles against your skin. “And I have plenty of advantages.” In response to his words his fangs now purposefully drag across your soft, sensitive skin. You shiver, your breath hitching. Miguel could feel the quicken of your pulse under his tongue, making him smile.
Because the way you were shifting your hips showed him that it wasn’t out of fear…but something else entirely. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure my advantages make you want to scream.” He chuckles, now moving to hover over your lips. You meet his gaze.
He keeps eye contact as his hand—claw—dragged down the side of your bare body, drawing loose patterns on your skin, until he reached your pussy, moving his sharp claw over your clit, making your stomach contract and your hips jolt, your mouth opening—his lips still hovering. “So reactive.” He cooed, dragging his claw back over it.
His breathing soon became laboured, the teasing getting too much even for him, as he takes his hand away to grip your waist, your body stretched from being restrained—arms up. He then grabbed his cock, moving the head through your wetness, making sure you’re wet enough, while simultaneously getting your arousal on his aching cock. “Mm, I wanna fuck you so bad.” He groaned, his cock stopping over your hole as you clenched around nothing.
He leant down to litter your face and lips with kisses. “You’re gonna have to loosen up though, cariño.” His cock pushed slightly inside you. Your pussy not meaning to clench around him but it does anyway. “Dios…y/n, please.” He hisses out, wanting nothing more than to just thrust fully in.
But he wouldn’t. Not until you had loosened up and and not until you had told him he could. “Just loosen up for me…”
And you take a breath, relaxing your body, leaving room for Miguel to push further in. “Oh—“ you press your lips together at the feeling of being stretched. “No no no, cariño, I want to hear you.” Miguel says, grabbing your cheeks between his fingers. “Come on…let me hear that pretty voice of yours.” With his grip on your cheeks you were forced to open your mouth.
Miguel leaned down to explore it with his tongue, making the sounds tumble easily from your lips. “That’s it…” he smirks, pushing further in. You clenched your restrained fists tight, as your chest heaved.
God Miguel was holding back. Everything about you made him want to move his hips. He wanted to feel you, be your first. But that meant taking it slow, and for you he would. “You’re doing so so good, cariño…so good for me…mhm.” He praises, as he moved his hand back down to rub your clit. Hiding some of the pain with pleasure, making your legs almost shake.
“Carajo…” He whispered, shutting his eyes a moment as he pushes all the way in, filling you to the brim with his cock. You were right—he was big. So big that you’ve indented your palms with your nails. “Ay…dios no.” Miguel hisses out, his grip tightening around your waist. You felt too good, that it almost had him muttering in a plead to move his hips.
The painful stretch had slowly become pleasure, his finger still rubbing your clit in circles. “Fuck, Miguel…move…please move…god.”
And Miguel has never been more happy to hear a simple sentence as he pushes out to thrust back into you, his hair was growing damp already, as he began to thrust in and out, your tight little hole making Miguel mutter and groan out anything on his mind. “Ay, dios…so good… feel so good cariño…doing so well...I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long…you have no idea.”
Your eyes are holding back from rolling wanting to see Miguel’s sweating body. You slightly struggle against the web, wanting to touch him. “Please Miguel…I just…”
He grins. “Look at you…so adorable.” He coos, leaning closer and kissing you hard. “Mi—“ you try through his kisses but he’s persistent. “Shh, I just wanna feel that tongue…come on...” He partially snarls out as your tongue finds his, his head pushing harder against yours, as his thrusts quicken, making you moan into his mouth.
“Uh huh…eso es, cariño… mm…you wanna know something?” He asks, his head slightly dropping to your neck, breathing heavy, as he had begun to move his hips at a pace that’s making you pant. He smiled against your skin, his hand moving up to play and fiddle with your tits.
“W-what?…” You manage through whimpers and pathetic groans. “The first night after our little deal was made…I couldn’t help but touch myself.” He nipped at your skin, right by your pulse. “Ma’ girl was so…breathless from a bit of excersise…mouth open…”
He chuckled into your neck, continue to fuck your aching cunt, which is practically dripping all over him. “It was hard not coming into your new room…You were so close by.” His fangs had begun to graze against your skin a fraction harder. “So for compensation I imagined touching your pretty little lips…” as demonstration he moved his hand to spread two of his fingers over your bottom lip.
“…seeing what your annoying tongue was all about.” He pushed his two fingers into your mouth, finding your tongue with his claws. “Mm…” Miguel hummed, mouth opening against your hot skin, his fucking making your mind see stars.
“You wanna know something else, y/n?” He placed a long open-mouth kiss to your pulse. “Hm?” He smirks, wanting you to speak. “Come on, talk more…i wanna hear your voice, didn’t I say that?” He had begun to match his cock’s thrusts into your pussy, with his fingers’ thrusts into your mouth, your drool coating his skin. He was teasing you, and in response you bit down on his fingers.
And of course you didn’t get the reaction you wanted, Miguel’s eyes instead lighting up with a new found heat. “That…exactly that…dios…did I want to do that to you.” He continues to fuck your mouth with his fingers, his hips thrusts hitting your g-spot over and over and over.
You’re surprised you haven’t orgasmed a second time yet, while you could clearly tell that Miguel had high stamina. He then leant back to your neck, softly biting. “…I imagined biting you…and now that I know what your blood tastes like…ay cariño, it’s hard to hold back.”
You had begun to nod before you even realised your heads movements. Miguel lifts his head to look at you, chest heaving, as his cock twitched inside you at your little response. “What was that?” He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, your saliva running slightly onto your bottom lip.
“I—“ you gulp, eyes fluttering, as you felt your pussy clench around him.
“Aw…are you gonna cum again?” Miguel coos. “Your body is so easy to pleasure.” And Miguel is beyond pleased at how obedient it is. His hands slightly run up and down your waist. “But before you do…” he slows his thrusts, knowing for himself that he could go on and on and on.
You slightly whine at the prolonging of your orgasm. “What were you nodding along to?” Miguel is watching you closely, as his thrusts have turned utterly torturous. In…and out….in and…out. And it’s making you squirm.
“You gotta tell me or I’ll keep at this pace…” he leans closer to your face. “And you know I have all night to do so.”
Your breathing is heavy. “I nodded because…” you were slightly nervous to say.
“Yes…?” Miguel pushed, his gaze darting everywhere it can.
“I…wantyoutobiteme.” You rush quietly out.
“I haven’t nearly fucked you close to speaking nonsense yet.” Was Miguel’s way of saying ‘repeat slower’.”
You gulp. “I want…you to bite me.” You meet his gaze, and your breathing stops at the focused look he’s shooting at you. His breathing shallows, as his eyes dart down to your neck. You slightly lean your head a fraction back—a silent invitation that is making Miguel go practically feral. His nose twitches in bloodlust—the kind that is making his thrusts inside you quicken.
Then before you’re knowing it his warm breath is by your neck, as his hand wraps around your throat, tilting your head how he wants, as his fangs drag a little harsher against your skin. Your heart is on fire, as you then hear Miguel mutter something incoherent, but the latino accent is thick as sinks his teeth into the side of your neck.
You gasp, your hips shuddering against his quickening thrusts. Now you were close to your second high. Miguel’s fangs stung at first, before a strange sort of pleasure takes over as he sucks on your neck, his grip around your throat tightening a fraction, as his thrusts turn unrelenting, the slight dizzying feeling of loosing a small amount blood only adding to the experience.
“Holy fuck, cariño…y-you’re doing so good for me. Being…so good for me…aren’t you?” Miguel breathed out, once he finally let go of your neck, not wanting to drink too much. His tongue came out to soothe the fang marks, licking up some more blood.
When you caught sight of him, you felt your heart stop. Your pussy clenched around him, as you saw his messy, damp hair, and the blood tainting his lips. Your blood. And you don’t know why that does something to you but it does, making your stomach clench, your second orgasm quickly following. “You gonna cum, cariño? You gonna cum for me? All over me?” He mutters, fucking you rhythmically until the pleasure hits, making your head knock back.
Miguel needed a little more to get him there. Just a little. So he continued to fuck you through and after your orgasm, making your legs shake. “Migu—“
“Shhh…y/n…I’m almost there…por favor…I’m so close.” His head rested in the crook of your neck as he thrusted into your poor abused hole, the overstimulation making your breathing choke and incoherent words fall from your lips.
“Mm, doing so good…so fucking good for me…” Miguel groaned out, feeling his cock twitch inside you. “Gracias, cariño….shh…thank you.” He whisper-moans into your neck, as he finally orgasms, his breath shuddering, as his thrusts begin to slow.
When he finally pulls out of you, you can barely move. Just how Miguel wanted. He wanted to take care of you, and if you had enough energy you’d say ‘no, I’m fine’. So Miguel slightly grins, kissing your jaw, then cheek, then lips. Pausing on them as he pecks them again.
Your eyes are glittering with exhaustion, and Miguel’s hand has gone back to stroking your skin. “Gracias, cariño.”
You’re still breathing heavy, as he rests his chin by your chest, tilting his head as he looks at your fucked out expression. Oh how he wanted to see that again, over and over again.
“I feel like…I should be the one sayin’ thanks...” You breathe out. You can’t even put into words what that was like. Not that you could really form them that well anyway.
Miguel couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he watched you shut your eyes, slowing your breathing. He hums as his claws gently continue to draw patterns on your warm skin. With eyes still shut you say “At least now I have experience…you know…I can now know what I’m doing with guys.” You hold back your teasing smile.
Miguel’s smile immediately drops as he stares at your still shut eyes. He snarls, pulling your body to lie atop his, making you yelp. He wraps his arms around your body. “No no, ‘guys’ as in plural?” He shakes his head. “Oh no y/n, im not sure if you get it…you’re all mine now.”
You stare at his focused red eyes, his claws tightening around you. Your amused smile widens, as you quickly peck his lips. “No.” Miguel warns, not wanting to be effected. “I want you to say that you won’t—“
You cut him off by another, longer kiss. And Miguel can’t help but let his eyes close, his head moving with yours. “Y/n…”
“Shut up.” You whisper against his lips. And Miguel can’t help the satisfied smile that curves his mouth.
;;
The light was peaking through the curtains when you woke. You almost got a fright seeing a sleeping Miguel beside you. His arm was draped over your stomach, his chest slowly rising. In all honesty you’re still in slight shock at everything that had occurred yesterday. Literally everything changed.
Your gaze catches sight of the bedside clock, seeing the time. You scan the floor for your clothes, spotting your completely destroyed panties. This’ll be an uncomfortable walk to your room then.
But as you were about to get up to get dressed the arm that was draped over you tightened, pulling you back into a warm chest. And you think you might actually die when you hear the low morning voice of Miguel right in your ear. “Don’t tell me you we’re gonna leave.”
You pressed your lips together. “I’m late.” You whisper.
“To what?” He groans, keeping you pressed to him.
“Miguel…” You try to slightly move, but in response Miguel swiftly moves over your body under the sheets, trapping you under him as he tilted his head. “Hm? To what?” He repeated.
“Work.” You say.
He raises his brows. “You can’t be serious. Work? You were gonna leave me for work?”
“Said no boss ever.” You respond. Miguel scoffs, his hand subconsciously moving to brush along your jaw. “Exactly. I’m your boss. And you listen to your boss regarding work, right?”
You narrow your eyes. “Mhm.”
He leans closer. “Well your boss says you don’t have work today.” He moves to kiss your lips, but you press your hands against his chest stopping him.
“No no. I will not get any benefits.” You’re serious.
Miguel tries to lean in again but you’re persistent. “Mi Dior.” He mutters. “Let me kiss you.”
“But you hear me right?” You say. “No benefits at—“
Miguel swiftly leans down, kissing you. “Migu—“
“Yeah yeah, i heard you.” He says to your lips, pushing harder against your mouth.
But then you again push at his chest making him groan. “Oh come on, chaparrita, what now?”
You pause. “Two things…” And Miguel shoots you an unimpressed look. “One…” but then you pause. “Wait no, actually three.”
“Y/n—“
But you cut him off continuing. “One—I’m late. And I will not miss work because I’m too…distracted.”
“Ouch.” Miguel mockingly nods.
“Two—i have morning breath…and it’s gross—“
Now Miguel cuts you off, grabbing your cheeks, squeezing them lightly to shut you up. “Say that again, and I’ll be happy to keep you from work.”
You slightly huff, but raise your brows, silently saying ‘yeah alright’. He lets go, as you continue to speak. “And three…what does chaparrita mean?”
Miguel slightly smirks. He then reaches up and grabs your phone (that had been in the back pocket of your pants) and hands it to you. “You could just tell me.”
He raises his brows. “I don’t want you to hit me.”
That comment makes you speedily tap at your phone, putting it through translation. Throughout your typing, Miguel begins to place kisses along you neck and collarbone, stroking random parts of your body.
Then your mouth opens as you read what appeared on your screen. “Shorty?!” You exclaim, making him chuckle against your skin. “Short—I am not short. You’re just…” Miguel looks up, still amused as he meets your gaze. “…abnormally tall.” You finally say.
He tilts his head. “Now get off me or I will hit you.” You’re annoyed. You had thought that it was something a little more endearing than that. You struggle under him. “Move.”
Miguel can’t get rid of his smile as he just rests completely on top of you. “You’re heavy, get off.” You groan out. “Miguel!”
;;
You’re all standing around the mess that is HQ.
“Well…I’m sure we can repair some of thi—“ But a loud, concerning sizzle of a bursting screen makes pav stop and everyone slightly jump. “Um…” he drifts off staring at the damage.
“Yeah…nah, that’s fucked, mate.” Hobie pats Pav’s back, staring at the damage too.
“That’s not really our concern though.” Gwen starts. Some other spider-people had begun to gather (the ones not terribly injured). “They left. They got out, and we don’t know if they’ll come back.”
Miguel is standing, jaw clenched in thought. You look slightly down to see that he put your bracelet back on, cleaned it from the blood. You hold back your want to smile. Now’s really not the time, y/n—you think to yourself.
No one knows yet about you two and at this moment you wanted to keep it that way. So part of you didn’t want him wearing that bracelet. Someone could easily notice it.
As the others discuss some form of a plan, you quietly edge closer to Miguel. He shifts his gaze to you, as you keep your gaze looking around before quietly saying “You don’t have to wear that.”
At first Miguel doesn’t know what you mean, until your gaze shoots to his wrist, his soon following. He looks back up to you. “Why not?” He whispered back.
“…and lil’ lovebird back there, you got any ideas?” Hobie suddenly asks, walking closer to you both.
“Excuse me?” You say, eyes slightly widening.
“Not you…” Hobie begins. “Him.” He gestures to Miguel, who just stares back, unimpressed.
You slightly sigh in relief, only to then furrow your brows. Wait, why was Hobie calling him that?
“We go to them.” Miguel says.
“Are you insane?” One of the spider-people ask. “A lot of us almost died here. We can’t just walk right into a their base like a suicide mission.”
“And would you rather stay and wait for them?” Miguel asks raising his brows. “They’ll be back. Stronger this time. So let’s get to them while their in the process of upgrading.”
“Vulnerable.” You mutter—more so to yourself, but Miguel and few others catch it.
“Exactly.” Miguel says.
“Wait but where even are they?” Miles asks.
And Miguel gulps. He had to tell them. He’s sure a few already know. “I’ve been there.”
Everyone shifts there gazes to him. “You’ve been there?” Jess steps forward. “Why didn’t I know about this?”
“I went alone.” He says. “I had to check something.”
“Check something?” Peter asks, thankfully without Mayday today.
You take in the way Miguel’s body is tense, words seeming to get caught in his throat. Words never get caught in his throat. So you speak up. “Everyone who is willing to go, raise your hand!”
You look around to see barely anyone keen. Though you do see the hands of your friends. Always willing to defend something. “Then how about those you will actually be a part of the plan can discuss details?” You look around, you catch your friends nodding along while a few ‘i guess’s’ come from random spider variants. “Great…so how bout that office,” you point to a far door. “It doesn’t seem…blown to bits.” You nod.
Hobie’s the first to follow you, then Miles, Gwen and so on, until it’s your friends and Miguel in the office. You meet Miguel’s gaze and see something similar to…gratitude? You had to get used to these displays of emotion.
You shift your gaze, coughing. “Sorry, carry on.” You gesture somewhat to Miguel.
“…thanks.” He says, still staring at you.
Hobie spares Pav a look, silently saying ‘told ya’. Because Miguel never ‘thanks’ anyone. It’s usually just a nod or something along those lines. Pav nods, his eyes shooting back to you and Miguel.
“Miguel, why did you go to their base alone?” Jess asks, crossing her arms.
“Because they took something of mine.” Miguel answers.
‘Took something’. You remember the night Miguel was unbelievably stressed. He had said ‘I let them take it’.
“Take what?” Gwen asks.
“The enhancing form of rapture.” Miguel answers.
“An…enhancing serum…” Pav says in slight confusion, drifting off.
“I thought I could get it back.” Miguel continues. “But it seems they already used some.”
Then it clicks. The ‘masked man’ Miguel was staring at must have taken the serum. That’s why his hits seemed so much more painful to watch. His strength was enhanced.
“Wait, Miguel why were you taking that?” Peter asks, brows furrowed.
“Because you know that fun little thing called a ‘spider-sense’?” Miguel rhetorically asks. “Yeah, I don’t have that.”
You shift your gaze to Miguel. You hadn’t known that. You had always thought that he had the same abilities as the others, just…with extra claws and fangs. Miguel meets your gaze. And strangely he felt slightly nervous. He didn’t want you to think any less of him because he technically only had 50% of spider DNA in him.
“So, you wanted to enhance your strengths, to help with your lack of abilities?” Jess asks.
“That’s a nice way to put it, Jess.” Miguel spoke with a straight face, shifting his gaze to her.
“Okay, so wha’?” Hobie asks. “They stole ya serum, boosted themselves up?”
“There’s more.” Miguel says.
“Oh.” Hobie nods, pretending to look pleased.
“When I went to their…base, better word would be lab…I saw a lot more than just the serum.” Miguel is saying, everyone’s heads turned to him. “They were making something. With the rapture. As an additive.”
“That doesn’t sound good.” Miles comments.
“You don’t think so?” Miguel snarks back, making poor Miles close his mouth.
Your brows furrow. Why Miguel had started to have beef with this kid you’d love to know.
“So the plan is to go find what they’re creating and…destroy it?” Gwen asks, partially to Miguel, partially to everyone.
“Sounds good t’ me.” Hobie smirks. “Are we workin’ in pairs? Cause I’ll take miss democrat over ‘ere.” Hobie links his arm around your shoulder, pulling you to him. You notice his small jab at you being democratic back when you asked everyone to raise their hands.
You slightly shove his side, as Miguel speaks. “Destroying whatever it is will hopefully weaken them, enough so we can kill…if they haven’t taken it already.” Miguel shifts his gaze to Hobie. “And yes, pairs would work best.” He then shifts his gaze to you. “Weak human, you’re with me.” He turns opening up a portal.
You scoff, narrowing your eyes on his back. But you step forward, hearing a faint mumble from Hobie. “Lovesick partner taker.”
;;
You’ve all split up, having arrived at the creepy looking lab. Gwen and Miles. Hobie and Pav. Peter and Jess, and of course…you and Miguel.
“Thanks, by the way,” you whisper to him as you both slowly step along a desolate hallway. “For letting me help.”
Miguel meets your gaze. He had yet to put on his mask. “Ah, well…I was scared you were gonna hit me otherwise.”
“Mm, glad I remain a threat.” You whisper back.
Then you hear steps, Miguel’s hand immediately coming out in front of you, as you both press yourselves against the wall. You could laugh, because right now you could picture spy music playing in the background. And Miguel being his large self would probably be the worst one.
“You’d be a terrible spy.” You whisper to him once the steps faded.
Miguel looks at you. “What?”
“A spy.” You repeat. “You’d be terrible.”
“And why is that?” Miguel’s gaze wanders the different rooms, trying to find the one he had been in before.
“You’re too…big.” You conclude, not finding a better word in the moment.
It’s then silent, both your steps filling somewhat of that silence. And when you look to Miguel, he’s clearly trying to hold down an amused grin.
Then your cheeks flush, and you look anywhere else. “Don’t you dare.” You quietly hiss.
“I wasn’t gonna say anything.” Miguel says, acting innocent.
“You better not.” You gaze around at the different rooms as well, Miguel having given you somewhat of a description.
“But if I were to—“
You swiftly cut him off, placing your hand over his mouth. You can feel him grin underneath it, as he watches you. “Shh.” You say. “You might alert the masked men that we’re here.” Then you turn and walk a little quicker down the hallway.
Miguel watches you go. “Yeah, cause I was the one talking.” He mutters.
“I heard that.” You hiss-whisper back, still scouting rooms. Majority empty and abandoned.
Miguel scoffs, continuing his search as well.
;;
Somewhere on the opposite side of the building, Hobie and Pav are quietly talking as well. “So do you think they’ve…” Pav raises his brows at Hobie.
“How ‘bout ya ask ‘em when we see ‘em next.” Hobie raises his brows too, doing that little side smile, as he tilts his head, his hands moving to his pockets.
“Oh, I’m not asking that.” Pav quickly says.
“Oh come on, bro,” Hobie hits Pav’s shoulder.
“No.” Pav shakes his head, eyeing rooms.
“How ‘bout,” Hobie begins. “…last one to reach the room has to ask?”
Pav gives Hobie one glance, before they’re both webbing away quickly—in search of the room.
;;
“There.” Miguel gestures to a doorway with light flooding out, as he slips his mask on. You both creep forward, moving to peep in. You can hear voices, harsh and angry.
“Did you manage to kill any?!”
“A-a few.” A more timid voice says.
“A-a few?” The previous guy mockingly repeats.“That’s not fucking good enough!” There’s a smash, as the sound of a fist hitting a nose follows.
Miguel’s head is focused forward, his claws extending. “I want them dead! All of them! They don’t have a right to be controlling the multiverse like this!”
“I-I know.” The guy chokes.
You can’t see anything yet, moving any closer would make you both visible. But luckily sound seemed to be enough for now.
“Do you? Do you really? Because Miguel O’hara is still alive. I thought you took his rapture?” The guy grits out.
“I did. But maybe…he has more…back up rapture.”
“‘Back up rapture’? Do you hear how stupid you sound?” Another punch. “They don’t deserve to be controlling anything, those bastard spiders think that just because their DNA is different they have the right?! No no.” What sounds to be a slap follows.
Miguel is edging closer, fraction by fraction. “I’ll show them what different DNA looks like…” the guy then speaks slowly, lowering his voice. “Yeah…” he chuckles.
Different DNA… The rapture being an additive now makes sense. It changes your DNA. And whatever other stuff they added must be mix of enhancers and straight up drugs. All for the cause to become powerful. He wanted control. Utter control. And he was going to kill anyone to get there. To put it simply he wanted to take Miguel’s place.
“Stay here.” Miguel whispers. And in this moment you knew your help wasn’t needed. You weren’t stupid, knowing that you’d just get in the middle of things. And right now you were okay with that. When the time came where you could help, you would. And that was something that made you almost feel…settled—a little more sure of yourself.
You nod, ushering for him to go. He then shoots his web out, pulling the timid guy away from getting punched again, as he shot another web at the meaner guys face. But the guy is quick to rip the web away, his strength clearly enhanced. Shit…he took it.
The rest soon became a mix of smashing glass, bruises, blood, and evil cackles that you’re sure the guy copied from the Green Goblin.
He may despise spider-people, thinking he’s above them, but he seems to be acting just like every villain who thought the same. Their fate didn’t end so well.
The guy being enhanced is most definitely making it hard for Miguel. You glance around the somewhat empty hallway, hearing and spotting something outside the far window. You quickly step closer, worried it may be a masked man.
And you’re…somewhat right. Because there are masked men, but there is also your friends. Fighting. And maybe now you are wondering if you should have come at all. But then you slip your hand into your pocket, bringing out the small switch device that you had kept.
You had tampered with it, trying to get it to work against its owners. And you aren’t even sure if it does work. But what really is there to loose?
You re-poked certain wires, the job not amazingly done, but hopefully good enough. You can hear shouts and heavy feet, punches and falling bodies.
And then you push the switch, hearing the whirring. The falling bodies, punches, heavy feet, and shouting are still audible at first. And you think maybe it didn’t work.
But when you look back out the window you see that it’s the masked men who are the bodies that are falling, the punches being directed by your friends. It had worked. The little machine messed with masked men’s’ DNA.
After a while of making sure that it’s working, you quickly rush back to the doorway to where Miguel and the other guy’s fight began, and you’re relieved to see that Miguel is holding him up by his neck.
The guy is babbling trying to get free. He looks confused, as if wondering where all his strength had gone. You couldn’t help but let a small smile edge your lips.
Miguel tightens his hold until the guys face turns purple, finally his struggles ceasing. Miguel let’s him drop to the ground, breathing hard. And as he takes his mask off—to breathe easier—he meets your gaze and notices the switch in your grasp.
Then someone is running quickly into the room, past you. Pav. He’s breathing hard, as he then jumps and cheers. “Ha!” He exclaims to someone behind you.
You turn seeing Hobie coming to a halt, huffing. “Nah, mate, ya cheated.”
Pav grins, his cheek a little cut up, but seemingly still ecstatic. You shift your gaze to Gwen, Miles, Peter and Jess who all arrive by the doorway as well.
Peter then nods, looking around. “Did we do it?”
“Hell yeah we did!” Miles hoots, slapping a high five to Peter’s hand. Peter moves his hand to offer Jess a high-five. She raises her brows and Peter is quick to put his hand away.
You breath in relief. Everyone is fine, nobody died…and you have no idea how your little invention worked.
;;
You’re all walking outside the lab, wanting to know exactly where it is. It’s a rundown Alchemax scientific building, obviously on much quieter universe.
“Isn’t that y/n’s bracelet?” Gwen suddenly asks, looking down at Miguel’s wrist. You freeze.
Miguel glances down at it too, but before he can say anything you quickly speak. “No.” Heads turn to you.
“I-uh…mine looks different.” You nod.
Now Miguel turns to you, brows raised. “Does it?”
You narrow your eyes on him. “Yes. Very different.”
“It looks pretty similar to me...” Pav says, making you press your lips together.
“And when were you looking at my wrist for that long to know that?” You ask Pav.
“I mean your hands are always up and tapping at keyboards.” Gwen says. Damn it.
Now there was nothing inherently wrong with what has happened between you and Miguel. No. You just felt…strange telling everyone, the situation basically being at work.
“It is her bracelet.” Miguel suddenly says, twisting it in circles around his wrist. All heads shoot to him, yours too.
“It is?” You ask, eyes really narrowing in on him.
“Mhm.” Miguel looks back at you, looking almost smug. His web “subtly” shoots out, attaching to your side, and pulling you towards him.
And you sigh, because everyone seems to catch on rather quickly after that.
All their expressions are different. And you’d laugh if you weren’t so flushed and nervous.
Gwen is staring, just blinking. Miles’ eyes are flicking between the two of you, wondering how you (the sweet, nice, funny girl) got with him (Miguel…enough’s said there).
Jess seems rather unbothered by the whole ordeal while Peter’s mouth is nearly dropped to the floor. And Pav is holding back an amused smile, almost nodding with approval.
“So, ‘av you two banged yet?” Someone suddenly asks, making your eyes widen. And you know exactly who the culprit is…
“Hobie!”
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pls nobody ask me how the bloody switch works OKAY?! It just does!
but oh my god. it’s here. the finale of ‘el trato (the deal)’. thank you all so so so much for all the support and love you’ve given this series — actually crying
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bluerosefox · 8 months
Text
Joker Messed Around and Found Freaking Out.
Okay hear me out..
Class trip to Gotham, class gets held up by Joker who actually can scare the class cause they are still teens and they know Joker has a high kill rate, like yes they're used to ghosts and junk but none of them wanna die yet or at least die outside of Amity, if they die they wanna have a chance of coming back as a ghost at the very least.
Anyways, Danny feels pure dread when Joker takes Jazz hostage, who was elected to be a chaperone for Danny's class since her volunteering would look good on college recommendations, and finds her little mutters about his mental health reminding him of Harley before she left him. He even jokes about needing a new partner and wonders how long it'll take to break her like he did to Harley.
Danny is frozen in his spot but something snaps when he hears Jazz cry out after Joker backhands her. Before anyone, even the Bats, realize it Danny is on top of the Joker beating his face in, he only gets up once, takes Joker's discarded crowbar and slams it over his head, barely grazing the dazed man but it does destroy the flooring behind him, while screaming to never ever touch his sister. That he will destroy Joker if he even thinks about coming after her. That even in the afterlife he'll never be safe from him.
All this happens so fast that by the time the Jocks from Danny's school, Red Hood and Nightwing get Danny off, Joker is beaten badly. He's still feral screaming at Joker though, calling him everything under the sun, spouting off about how the dead are ready to rip him apart when Joker (or you can have Danny call him by his actual name if you wanna strike some "the fuck? How'd he know that?") Finally passes away, that even death will not save him from Danny's wrath. Danny is squirming hard in their holds, nearly breaks free a few times when he hears Joker groaning, but only stops when Jazz, after getting looked over by Red Robin comes running over and just..
Hugs Danny.
And like a kitten getting scuffed by the neck he goes limp. Just breathes heavily, eyes burning from anger, fear, tears, and relief, before he returns the hug. He starts crying and mutters low that he can't lose her, that he almost lost her again and "is this even a fraction how Dan felt when he lost you?"
And Jazz just shushes him and does what she can to comfort him...
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vivwritesfics · 6 months
Note
lando with girlfriend who races for mercedes but got into a crash and was in coma, but she finally wakes up
This picture does stuff to me
(set 2024)
Second part HERE
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"Holy shit," Lando said as he watched his girlfriend walk onto the grid. He watched as she walked over, racing overalls low on her hips, black fireproofs adorning her body.
Lando licked his lips as she stood beside him and Oscar, leaning against the barrier with her arms folded over her chest. "Wow, baby," he said, staring at her.
"Like what you see?" She grinned.
Lando said nothing. He moved closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Tell Toto I like the black fire proofs."
It was Y/N's first season in Formula One, her first race too. She was the F2 champion two years running before Mercedes finally gave her a chance. She'd been with Lando since her F2 days, after they'd met in Monaco after the Grand Prix.
"Excited?" Oscar asked as he watched them.
Yes, Y/N was excited. But she'd never been on the track with her boyfriend, had never had to fight him before. Neither of them knew what they were going to do. They both hoped they would treat each other like any other driver, but the rest of the grid was doubtful.
"Very," she said to Oscar as she leaned her head on Lando's shoulders. "I'll blow you both a kiss when I come speeding past, lapping you ."
She had done extremely well for her first qualifying in F1, qualifying on the second row. Lando was 6th through a mistake in Q3 and Oscar was pack in 9th after he got his times deleted.
It was amazing, driving behind a three time world champion and a second time world champion. Y/N did her absolute best, holding her position.
And then Checo Perez tried his luck. He went around the outside of Y/N on turn one. But he didn't leave enough space, hitting her wheel pretty bad and sending her spinning into the barriers at such a high speed. But the car didn't just hit the barrier and bounce off. It hit the barrier and kept going, ripping off chunks of the car and sending them flying.
It wasn't too terrifying at first. It was still scary, though, Y/N's first race and her first big crash in F1. To make things worse it wasn't even her fault. She was having such a good race, doing everything she should have, and then Checo Perez fucked it all up for her.
As chunks of the car got ripped away by the barrier, the Mercedes team was still pretty sure she'd make it out. But then a piece of debris bit the wheel and shot up into the ear, coming back down and hitting the top of Y/N's helmet.
Suddenly, things were scary. The car came to a stop, pieces of it all over the track. "Y/N, are you okay?" Asked her engineer.
She didn't respond.
"Y/N? If you can hear me, please say something?"
Again, nothing. The Mercedes team were beginning to get worried.
***
"Red flag, Lando. That's a red flag," said Lando's engineer.
"What happened?" He asked as everybody pulled into the pitlane.
His engineer took a minute to answer. The team didn't know what was best, to tell Lando and have him freaking out, or to let him find out on his own.
"Uh, there's a Mercedes with some damage," the engineer said.
Lando's face went pale inside of his helmet. He knew the car in front of him was Hamilton, meaning the only other Mercedes on the track was...
Lando parked the car in the pitlane, the same as everybody else. He immediately climbed out of the car and started running. His engineer and the McLaren team tried to stop him, but Lando was still running. It was hot inside of his helmet, but nothing was going to stop him.
When Lando got down there, she still hadn't been pulled from the car, the debris was being removed, but Y/N wasn't. "Baby!" He shouted and ran over.
The stewards tried to hold him back, but Lando pushed them away. He began trying to pull her out of his car. As soon as they saw what he was doing they began helping him, pulling Y/N's limp body out of the car.
Limp, but not lifeless. At least, that was what the paramedics said as they lifted her into the ambulance.
Lando didn't want to attend the rest of the race. He couldn't concentrate as he waited for the race to restart. "Let Pato drive," he mumbled as he waited for news from the hospital. Nothing, and that was making him so fucking worried.
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bigguyenthusiast · 2 months
Text
Ass or tits post but they barely answer the question
NSFW text !!!
Btw if yawll have any headcannon ideas do send them in pls !!! Smooches !!
John price
this is absurd, to think you would ask him such a disrespectful question, I mean if you weren’t dating this is a huge HR violation, plus he won’t just pick like you’re some object he gets to use to his pleasure (thighs and fupas)
Simon Riley
Ass…. No wait he likes tits
Actually he likes ass… but maybe more so the thighs… nah nah it’s just ass … actually here, go wear these outfits and come back to me, I need to make my mind up for sure, you know, for research purposes.
John McTavish
Couldn’t choose, had to go run a few laps to clear his brain
Came back and just held your shoulders and said
“Yes”
You’d be confused and ask him the question again and he’d just look at you with sad eyes and whimper out
“Please don’t make me chose”
Kyle Garrick
Tits, absolutely tits, this man has a thing for milfs, my darlings with big or small tits, if he sees you in a blouse or a tank top that shows your cleavage, he’s running the nearest bathroom to relieve himself.
You had to go undercover on a mission once, having to dress up as a server at a strip club, you needed to have ears on the inside, and he had to save all the footage he was watching… for safety purposes of course, what if he didn’t notice a very illegal bad thing happen to you on his 89th rewatch ?!
Rodolfo parra
Tits, but also into necks, he also loves your back, and the curve of your hips, and how your rolls show when he has you in a weird position, and he loves watching you change or slip into your everyday clothes, how some tights fabrics tug at your pretty plush skin, he loves it when you lay your feet on his lap, silently asking him to rub them for you, watching you stretch, watching you walk, how you interact with others …
Wait sorry what was the question ?
Alejandro Vargas
This whore…. Ass.
He’d slap your ass ever time you’re walking by, if you’re leaning on a counter, on your phone, he would stand behind you and slap your ass bongos, laughing and kissing your temple as you try to smack him.
If he sees you sleeping on your side he will crawl lower and cuddle your ass, it’s just such a nice cushion  :(
One time the team all went out for drinks after a successful mission, and you changed into a white tank top, low cut bell bottom jeans and Rudy handed you a cowboy hat as a joke, but all Alejandro could think about is which bathroom is the closest for him to take you.
Also steals your panties after every quickie
Valeria
See….. here’s the thing, Valeria loves one thing, and that thing is seeing you all submissive and ready for her to take, she loves sitting in a meeting with some dealers, her legs spread, you by her feet, hugging onto the lower part of her legs, humping on her dirty boot, your tits pressed against her knee as your clothed pussy rubs in messy motions as you try to get some sort of release, she loves holding a gun to your head, asking you to only make eye contact with her, in a room filled with judging eyes.
She needs everyone to know what’s hers, and what would happen if they even dared to speak of what’s hers.
König
Listen, I see könig as a little weirdo, a lil freaky boy. When he’s infatuated with someone, he won’t be able to find a single flaw in them, seeing your skirt riding up at bit too high that shows your ass that’s covered in opaque stockings, and if there’s a little rip in those stockings, even if the rip is like, down near your ankle, he’s gonna pop a boner.
If you’re a fashion girly that likes to show their body off oh baby he’s buying you anything you want if you just give him a show, tops that barely hide your nipples, about 90% of your tits out on display, one slip and you’ll be flashing him.
Seeing you in his clothes, seeing his hoodie bunched up around around waist as you hold it up a bit, fixing your pants, oh he’s going to jump that hoodie later.
Horangi
Tits, or so he thought, he’s always found your chest gorgeous, what he wouldn’t give to be able to suck on your nipples day and night, that is until you were sparring one time, you had him in a chokehold… with your thoughts pressed against his neck, his head resting on your lap as you look down at him, animalistic fire in them as you grin down at him, all he could think about was how your eyes gazed down on his, how the pressure of your thick thighs pressed against his neck felt like heaven, like the pain in his neck was cured (it wasn’t)
After the sparring match he just had to collect his thoughts, he needed you to be on top of him, preferably with your crotch right on top of his face with your soft sweaty thighs caging him in .
Laswell
This lady……… she’s the hard dom price wishes he was.
She’s so calm and collected on the outside, at her work everyone sees her as this no nonsense lady who refuses to listen to some old fart tell her what she can and can’t do, she’ll always do what’s right
And so when her pretty girl, in a gorgeous dress she got for you, comes to her job, holding a tiny bag filled with her lunch, hair done, makeup looking flawless, and a bright smile that makes her coworkers envy her.
She loves her sweet girl that’s too innocent to notice how promiscuous she looks in that form fitting dress, how her tits press together when she hands her the bag, Kate would simply thank you, kissing you briefly before giving your bum a smack as she tells you to get back home and get ready for her tonight
What? The woman is stressed at work and her girl comes in looking like a goddess in a tight dress, plus it’s not like any of her coworkers blame her.
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Text
FUBAR [AO3]
Female Reader x GHOAP
NSFW 18+ [All of my blog is thus] Minors DNI, I mean it, *Logan Roy voice* Fuck off.
Summary: You, Soap, and Ghost get dosed with sex pollen. Warnings and full fic under the cut.
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Warnings: Sex Pollen, Dubcon(everyone is into it but high on pheromones), MMF Threesome, MLM, Blowjobs (M giving and receiving), oral F!receiving, dirty talk, soft dom!Simon, very loose sub/dom dynamics, RACK/SSC not really applicable due to sex pollen but it's not bad kink, just not the most realistic, safewords are used, unprotected PiV (reader is on Birth Control), Creampie, Sir Kink, subby Johnny, subby Reader. Let me know if I missed anything! No physical description of reader but Simon moves her around a little (no heavy lifting really). Thanks to @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for taking a look/betaing for me.
Word Count: 4,370
CoD Masterlist | AO3 | Ko-Fi
You rouse slowly to the sound of heavy grunts, desperate sighs, and a wet, slurping sound. You let out a soft whine as the sounds go straight to your core. Your legs clenching together as you try and quell the ache building there.
That’s when the buzzing in your ears starts, low and droning like an incessant fly rattling around your skull. Your entire body aches like you’ve run a marathon, before fighting off a bear. You groan as you try and stretch out your limbs, your eyes slowly adjusting to the low light filling the space around you.
The pitched roof above you is made of thick wooden beams, the orange light emanating from a lamp in the corner casts a romantic hue over everything. You turn your head, searching for the source of the noise and your mouth goes dry.
Soap and Ghost are tangled on the floor a few feet away clothes discarded; their scarred bodies bathed in the ochre light as you watch Ghost cradle Soap’s head in a loving gesture as they break a heated kiss. You bite your lip as you watch the pornographic scene unfold. You realise it’s the first time you’ve seen Ghost without his mask on, he’s strikingly handsome.
His face is scarred, aged lacerations and burns marking his strong jaw, up and through the left side of his plush lips. His nose is somewhat crooked, broken one too many times, and set poorly more than once. He’s beautiful.
There’s a small voice in the back of your mind that tells you to speak up, or at the very least roll over to give them some privacy. But you’re transfixed, your panties are soaked through as you dip your hand below the waistline of your trousers.
It’s sick and twisted but you feel yourself burning up even hotter as you toy with your swollen clit as you watch them. But you simply don’t care, it’s like you’ve lost all sense of shame, your inhibitions ripped free from your mind as you watch Soap press open mouthed kisses to Ghost’s chest.
“Go on, Johnny,” He purrs lowly as the smaller man sinks between his thighs, “Be a good boy for me.”
“Fuck, anything for you, Si,” Johnny responds with a whine as you watch his lips trail further down the scarred expanse of your LT’s body. He nips and sucks on Simon’s nipples and you can’t help but wish that he was worshiping you as well.
“Fuck,” Ghost groans as you witness Johnny’s lips wrap around his cock, “That’s it, Johnny, fuck I need you.”
The desperation in Ghost’s voice makes you squirm as you feel heat rushing through your veins as you rub your fingers desperately over your swollen clit. You’re drenched as you hear the wet sound of Johnny taking Ghost’s thick cock almost all the way to the base.
Johnny works Ghost’s cock like a pro, his thick fingers pressed into Ghost’s muscular thighs as his cheeks hollow out. His head bobs in practiced strokes, pulling off almost all the way to suckle around Ghost’s bulbous tip, drawing out harsh choked moans from the gruff, stoic man.
You’re panting like a bitch in heat now, no longer subtle in your movements as you shove your trousers and panties down around your thighs. You’re in too much of a rush to take them off completely as you plunge two fingers inside your aching cunt. You fail to stifle the whine in the back of your throat as you match the increased pace Johnny sets on Ghost’s cock.
“Looks like we’ve got an audience,” Ghost’s growling drawl makes you clench around your fingers, you should feel ashamed, you should stop. But getting caught only spurs you on as you add another finger into your drenched core. You look to your Lieutenant, his scarred, handsome face twisted in a blissed-out snarl as Johnny eases off his cock.
“Don’t stop,” you cry out, voice hoarse as you make eye contact with Johnny whose eyes are wide with shock, “Please, I’m going to come.”
“You heard her, Johnny,” Ghost says with a click of his tongue, “Put on a show.”
Your cheeks heat at the way he talks down to Johnny, but more at the way Johnny moans at the instruction, redoubling his efforts.
The Scot gets sloppier, the loud gluck, gluck, gluck of Ghost’s cock hitting the back of Soap’s throat again and again echoes the squelching sounds coming from your cunt as you try and match his pace.
You hit your peak with a wail as you clamp down on your fingers, pleasure rocking through you in hard bursts. The tightness in your core eases for a spell as you come down from your high just to hear the euphoric roar of Ghost coming down Soap’s throat.
“Fuck,” you groan as you roll onto your side, watching in perverted awe as Soap laps at Ghost’s cock, licking him clean before suckling on his tip slowly. Icy eyes locking with Simon’s hazy, blissed out amber ones before turning his gaze to you.
“Come join us, hen,” Johnny says with his signature smirk as he sits back on his ass, his dick still painfully hard as it slaps against his scarred abdomen.
“Yeah,” Ghost groans as he curls two fingers at you, beckoning for you to join them, “We need to talk.”
You’re moving before you can even process the request, you waddle over with your trousers and panties still rolled down, hands pulling at your shirt and bra as you discard them both somewhere behind you. You’re fumbling with your trousers when a firm hand catches your wrist.  
“Slow your roll, sergeant,” Ghost says, his tone serious as you try to look at his face, and not the beautiful dick bobbing between his legs as it still glistens with a combination of Johnny’s spit and his come.
“What happened, what’s wrong with me?” You ask in a hushed whisper as you try and replay the events of the last forty-eight hours.
“You took a grenade for us, you twat,” Ghost says with a low chuckle, “It was a prototype of the chemical weapon we were tracking.”
“Shit,” you suddenly feel itchy, like you’re covered in bugs, “What’s the damage?”
“It was some kind of pheromone bomb,” Soap chimes in as he traces circles over the skin of your exposed ankle, sending shivers up your spine, “Meant to drive people into a blind rage.”
“Instead, it seems like it’s more of an aphrodisiac,” Ghost adds, pointing between himself and Johnny, “We were hit too, trying to save your reckless ass.”
“So, what? You two just got started without me?” You scoff, trying to ease the tension coiling in your belly as you feel the magnetic pull of their bodies as you sit there topless, cunt exposed with your trousers tight around your thighs.
“We weren’t going to touch you in your sleep, hen, come on. What do you take us for?”
“Besides,” Ghost says with a sigh, “We’re not exactly unfamiliar with each other’s cocks,” Johnny flashes Ghost a dazzling smile at that and it clicks into place in your mind.
“Oh, so you’re not into women,” you nod in bitter understanding as you try not to feel rejected, “Do I just go and wank myself to death in the corner then?”
You try to pass it off as a joke, but you can see the way both men look at you. There’s an undeniable yearning etched on both their faces.
“Lass,” Johnny says as he trails his fingertips up to your bunched up trousers, “Gaz thinks we need to fuck this drug out, it’s no good just trying to wank the pain away.”
“Eloquent as ever, Johnny,” Simon sighs but the smirk on his face betrays any attempt at scolding Soap, “But he’s right, Gaz and Price managed to avoid getting dosed, this dumb fuck and I got too close trying to get your limp body out and got a whiff of the stuff.”
“We were worried about you, hen, we care about you.”
“So, you swing both ways?” You ask bluntly, after failing to find a better, less crass way of putting it.
“Aye,” Johnny nods, “And we’ve been sweet on you a while, just didn’t want to pressure you into anything.”
“But this bullshit kind of forced our hands,” Ghost adds as he flattens his broad palm over the back of one of your hands, “We don’t have to make any promises about what comes next, there’s no pressure from either of us, I hope you know that.”
You nod slowly, your skin burning as you try not to lean in and just kiss Ghost, you know there’s more to be said yet.
“We need to fuck, to survive this,” Johnny says as he moves his hand up to cup your cheek, his crystal blue eyes boring into you as you hold his gaze, “We don’t have to talk about it ever again if you don’t want to, but let us help you.”
“Tell us what you need,” Simon encourages you as he presses his nose against the swell of your bare shoulder as he trails his fingertips up your side, “Tell us what we can do to make you feel good.”
“Help me get out of these,” you gesture to your trousers and panties, “Then fuck me, please.”
“So, you two,” you start as Simon’s fingers slip under the bunched-up fabric to pull your legs free, “You’re an item?”
“Fuckin’ hell, lass,” Johnny groans as he bucks up into your hand as you squeeze him tightly in your clenched fist, “Do you want us to fuck ye or not?”
“Johnny,” Simon snaps in warning as he pulls his fingers from you, you huff at that, but Simon shushes you gently, “Look, we can talk about who’s courting who later, right now, we have bigger priorities.”
“Of course, sorry, sir,” you say without thinking and you watch as Simon’s pupils dilate at the slip. As if the ache in your core wasn’t painful enough. The way the tension just doubled has you squirming under his gaze.
“Fuck, I really want to go easy on you,” he growls as he grabs your waist, turning you around and tearing you away from Johnny as he sits back, legs spread as he pulls you onto his lap, “But you can’t go calling me sir, not right now.”
There’s a warning and a challenge baked into his words as you hear Johnny laugh quietly behind you. The Scot clearly privy to some in-joke you’re eager to find out about.
You consider the quiet, logical voice that’s telling you to just get this over with, fuck and be done with it. But the way Simon’s fingers are digging into the meat of your hips, and the way his cock throbs as you slowly rock your cunt along the underside of it makes you bold.
Or stupid.
“Message received, loud and clear,” you say breathily as you place your hands either side of Simon’s thick neck, thumbs digging up into the underside of his jaw, “L.T.”
“On your knees,” he grunts as you feel him push you back into Johnny’s waiting arms, you hesitate for a second before he glares at you, “That’s an order.”
You do as you are told, the hardwood flooring biting into your shins as you feel Johnny shift behind you. You’re about to turn your head and ask what’s going on when you feel one of Johnny’s palms on the curve of your hip. You’re pitched forward by his other hand pressing between your shoulders, forcing you onto your hands and knees as you look up to see Simon’s face alight with dark desire.
“Work her open Johnny, get her nice and ready for that pretty dick of yours,” he says, delirium edging his tone as he orders Johnny around.
“On it,” Soap says with a peppy lilt to his voice as he spreads your ass cheeks.
“We need a safe word, the moment it becomes too much, too rough – whatever – you say it and we stop,” Simon orders as you look up to see the tip of his cock dangerously close to your lips.
“Ok,” you nod eagerly as you feel Soap’s thumbs digging into your skin to expose your dripping cunt, “FUBAR.”
“Ok we’ll all go with that, immediate stop on FUBAR, you got that, MacTavish?” Simon asks the Scot, and you whine as Johnny nips at your left ass cheek.
“Loud and clear,” he hums in affirmation as he gropes and paws at your spread cheeks impatiently, clearly waiting for the next order.
“Good,” Simon says with a smile as he cups your chin with one hand and fists the base of his cock with the other, “Go on Johnny, don’t be shy.”
You’re barely given a second to think before Soap’s tongue darts out to tease at your entrance. The hot drag of his wet muscle makes you whine as you fixate on the bead of precome dribbling over Simon’s uncut tip.
“Suck,” he says as he presses the sticky head against your lips. You groan as you think of how Soap did it, hoping you live up to that mouthwatering display.
You do as you are told, letting him press his thick, ruddy tip into your mouth as Soap buries his face into your cunt from behind. You groan as you sink down on Simon’s cock, fingertips scraping on the wood floor as the musky, salty taste of his precome coats your tongue.
“Fuck,” Simon rasps as he cups your cheek, rocking his hips slowly as he chases the wet heat of your mouth, “How does she taste, Johnny?”
“So damned sweet,” he responds, voice muffled as he sucks hard on your clit, his stubble scraping against your sensitive skin as he glides his tongue over your swollen bundle of nerves, “Like fucken’ heaven.”
“Hear that?” Simon coos down at you, a sarcastic pout on his scarred lips as he pulls his cock out of your mouth, “You like it when we talk about you like you’re not even here?”
You nod fervently as you stick your tongue out in earnest, begging Simon to put his cock back in your mouth. You’re incensed, overwhelmed and greedy for anything these men can give you.
You try to blame it all on the drugs, but something deep inside you knows it’s more than that. You’ve wanted this for so long.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon says with a low hiss as he taps the head of his cock on your tongue a few times, pulling it back before you can wrap your lips back around it, “She’s a greedy little thing.”
“Please,” you whimper as Soap teases a finger inside you. He buries himself to the knuckle with ease as his lips wrap around your clit. He flicks and swirls his tongue around the tight bundle of nerves as the wet sound of his lips sucking on your sensitive bud fill your ears.
“What is it, love?” Simon asks with condescension heavy on his tongue, the pet name makes you clench around Soap’s thick digit, “What do you need?”
“Fuck me,” you pant as you feel Soap fucking a second finger into your tight cunt, scissoring and stretching you out as he groans into your sensitive skin, “Please, Si.”
“Oh, it’s Si now, is it?” He retorts with an edge to his voice, “Johnny, stop.”
You cry out in frustration as both men stop touching you, leaving you trembling on your hands and knees as the dull ache in your skull returns. You realise your error too late and you’re burning up as you try to make it right.
“Sir, please,” you cry out as your body aches. Your fingers and toes curl and uncurl as you bite your lip in frustration. The ripple of bittersweet humiliation has you clenching around nothing.
“That’s better,” he scoffs with a smirk before addressing Soap, “Think she can take you, Johnny?”
“Fucken’ hope so,” Soap says with a huff as he sinks two fingers back inside you with no warning, “I need to fuck you, can I, hen?”
You’re panting and whining as you look up to Simon for approval. The wet squelching sounds of Johnny’s fingers fucking in and out of your cunt loud in the otherwise quiet room as you feel pleasure scorching a path down your spine. You’re close but you need more, so much more.
“You ready?” Simon asks as he cups your face with both hands, thumbs brushing against your cheekbones. 
“Yes, sir, please, I need you, need you both.”
“You heard her, Johnny, give the poor thing what she needs,” Simon commands as he lines his tip at your lips once more.
You’re greedy and impatient as you take as much of his thick length in as you can manage. You moan around his cock as Johnny notches himself at your core, the stretch already making your thighs tremble.
“C’mere, Johnny,” Simon growls as you look up to see the larger man grip Soap by the back of the neck, crashing their lips together as Johnny’s hips buck forwards. The stretch burns pleasantly as he sheaths himself fully inside you. You’re so impossibly full. The angle of their kiss has your nose pressed to the base of Simon’s cock, his wiry pubic hair brushing your nose as you struggle to control your gag reflex.
You’re a whining mess as you watch them kiss, tongues battling for dominance as you choke down on Simon’s girthy cock. It’s excruciating being held so still, so full of them, it doesn’t take long before you’re tapping out on Simon’s thigh, begging for relief.
The men separate with heavy exhales, a string of spit connecting their lips momentarily before they both look down at you with hungry eyes.
“Sorry, hen, you ok?” Johnny asks as he slowly eases almost all the way back out of you, the heft of his cock dragging deliciously through your walls. You clench hard around his tip, pulling a soft groan from his lips as you squeeze him.
“Yeah,” You nod dumbly before smiling up at them both, “Fucking amazing.”
“Such a good girl for us,” Simon coos as he lowers himself down to kiss you, teeth grazing your bottom lip. You groan as Johnny starts to pick up the pace, you plant desperately into Simon’s open mouth as he lingers with his forehead pressed against yours. A surprisingly tender gesture that makes your chest flutter.
He exhales through his nose as he rocks back onto his knees. He straightens back up, cock held out for you as pearly precome beads at the tip. You lap it up eagerly before suckling on the tip, tongue delving under his foreskin and dipping into his slit.
“Fuck,” Simon growls as he places both hands on either side of your face, pulling your mouth down on his cock, “Too good at that, sweetheart, giving Johnny a run for his money,” he snarls as he gently rocks his hips, feeding you more and more of his cock with every thrust, “God, you look so pretty like this.”
“Aye,” Johnny whines as he squeezes your hips, already starting to snap you back against him with such force you’re mewling around Ghost’s cock, “Look at that ass fucken’ bounce”.” Johnny’s last words are punctuated by the sound of your cheeks slapping against his thick thighs as he delivers two brutal thrusts into your slick walls.
You’re so close, the fire burning under your skin rages on as you swallow around Simon’s cock, breathing heavily through your nose as you feel your throat contract as he pushes in deeper again.
“Shit, Si, I’m close,” Soap groans as he slips a hand between your legs, two thick fingers pressing hard against your clit.
“You’re on brith control right, love?” Simon snarls as he swipes the tears that fall down your cheeks with his thumbs, you nod around his cock and he smirks to himself.
“Come inside her, Johnny, fill her up,” he commands as he withdraws from your mouth once more and you’re about to protest when he tuts, “Want to hear your sweet little moans as you come.”
Johnny pulls you back against him, fingers of his one hand still swirling over your throbbing clit, the other wraps around your throat. You cry out as he fucks up into you as Simon crowds you from the front.
“Come for me, Johnny,” he growls as he presses his chest against you, his cock firm against your belly as he kisses Johnny roughly. His one hand fists in the base of Johnny’s Mohawk as the other grips your waist, pinning you between them.
The smothering heat makes you gasp as your orgasm rips through you, your vision blurs as you clench hard around Johnny’s cock. You’re crying out, a whining mess as Simon ruts against your front, while Johnny fucks you in hard, erratic thrusts as he reaches his peak.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon growls as you feel the hot pulse of his cum splattering against your stomach, followed closely by the last few thrusts from Johnny into your quivering cunt from behind.
Johnny groans low in your ear as he comes deep inside you, his dick twitching with every spurt inside your pulsing walls. You fall forward into Simon’s arms as you bury your head in the crook of his neck.
“There you go,” Simon says with a softness so unlike him as the three of you sink to the floor together.
You huddle there for some time, two pairs of lips leaving trailing kisses along your chest, your shoulders, and neck. They kiss one another from time to time, slow, lingering, as you bask in the affection shared between them. Rough fingertips glide over your skin, mapping the curves of your body in a silent display of affection.
“Need to clean up,” Simon finally grunts as you feel his come sticking to your joined bodies as Johnny’s come leaks down your thighs, “Then, sleep.”
“Aye, sir,” Johnny grumbles as he slowly eases out of you.
There’s a tension in your chest, the haze of the drug clearly abating, replaced now with an anxiety that threatens to eat you alive.
You finish up cleaning up with a stack of wet wipes you had in bergen to do a half-decent job at cleaning off the evidence of the evening’s activities from your skin.  You pull on your t-shirt and trousers before looking up to see Johnny and Simon are sat together against the wall near where you had been lying earlier that evening.
They’re also fully dressed, and there’s an ache in your chest that makes you needy for their touch, to be skin-to-skin with them again.
“Hey,” you say, barely more than a whisper as you slump in a heap a few feet in front of them.
Johnny’s curled into Simon’s side, head on the larger man’s shoulder. He’s barely awake as he looks up to address you.
“What’s up, hen?” Johnny asks, bright blue eyes glimmering in the low light. 
“Yeah, talk to us,” Simon chimes in as he pats the space to his left.
You crawl over slowly, unsure if you should take the space being offered to you.
“What does this all mean? For us, after all this, what do we do now?”
“Whatever you want, hen,” Johnny says, blinking rapidly to shake the fatigue from his eyes, attempting address you more clearly, “We don’t have to put any meaning to this if you don’t want to.”
“Or,” Simon rumbles as he places a hand against the swell of your shoulder, “We can get back home and see how it all plays out, for the three of us, together.”
You consider it for a moment, trying not to make a rash decision, for all you know the drug could still be affecting your decision making. But there’s a wholesome warmth burning under your cheeks as both men look at you with deeply affectionate grins.
“I think I’d like to see where this goes for us, if you’re happy with that?” You ask quietly, fear gnawing at your insides.
“I’d love that,” Johnny says with a gentle yawn.
“So would I,” Simon agrees as he pulls both of you tight against him, “Now sleep, we’ve got a busy few days ahead to get to the exfil on time.”
“Yes, sir,” you and Johnny say in unison, which causes you all to laugh.
It feels too good to be true, too easy.
But for now, you don’t let it bother you, and you fall asleep in a blissful haze as you let yourself hope that something good will come out of this. 
“Wait,” you perk up with morbid realisation, “Where are Gaz and Price?”
“In the next room,” Soap says with a smirk on his face, “Probably heard the whole thing.”
“Fuck off, Si, tell me he’s joking?”
“Negative, but it’s not the first time Gaz and Price have caught us fucking,” he shrugs as he flashes you a toothy grin.
“Well, it’s the first fucking time they’ve heard me,” you groan as you bury your face into Ghost’s side, heat burning under your skin as you try not to think about what your CO and fellow sergeant just heard.
“They’ll get used to it,” Soap says as he finds one of your hands and laces his fingers through your own, “Besides, I recon we could convince them both to join in the fun.”
“Johnny,” Simon growls in a half-hearted warning.
“Alrigh’, I’m just kidding,” Soap squeezes your hand in his, “Get some sleep, hen, we’re here for you, no matter what.”
You grumble in discontent as you squeeze back before hunkering down against Simon’s broad form.
Maybe it’s the effects of the drug, but your mind starts to wander as you drift off. You can’t help but imagine what it would have been like if it had been Gaz and Price in here instead of Johnny and Simon.
You fall asleep with a smile on your lips as you let your imagination run wild.
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CoD Masterlist | AO3 | Ko-Fi
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jayke0 · 2 months
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And They Were Roommates
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Summary: You catch your roommate, Marc, having some private time, and it's only when he comes at the sight of you that something inside you is released.
Rating: nsfw, smut
Warnings/Content: Friends to lovers? Male masturbation, fluffy/soft sex, Marc being insecure at first cuz he hasn't had his chode ridden in a while, some nipple play (f receiving), protected sex (pill), mention of female masturbation, p in v, breeding if you squint, creampie, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).
Word count: 2,275
A/N: Uhmmmm so i accidentally posted this too early, so if you see it please reblog so it reaches others! Thankyouuuu
Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.
…………......................………………………………….
Marc Spector had always found himself to be a very private man. You're lucky to have even gotten a glimpse at his phone that one time, given how precisely he guards what little personal belongings he has and hides his emotions behind a stone-cold glare.
That's why he always waits for you to go out before he touches himself.
He'd gotten into the habit of it after realizing the wall dividing your bedrooms is so paper thin that he could hear every word the character was saying on whatever show you'd been watching at the time.
The anticipation; the waiting was always the worst. You'd take your sweet sweet time getting ready and checking your shopping list, only to forget something and come back 2 minutes later; luckily, he'd gotten used to that part too. Though, as much as he pretended he hated it, he actually found it quite endearing; a little quirk of yours that made you so fucking adorable to him.
“I'll be back in an hour!” Marc hears your voice echo through the hall, simply responding with a grunt that was somewhere along the lines of ‘alright’. He hears that first front door slam and waits a couple of minutes, before excitedly scrambling to his bedroom, cock already twitching at the prospect of release.
He'd had a particularly hard few days (pun intended), and with you deciding you didn't want to venture out, he was left to let his mind wander, only to blueball-ball himself in the process.
He's quick to grab his earphones and settle down comfortably in his bed, pulling his t-shirt off swiftly and practically ripping his jeans off. It doesn't take long before he's got his cock in hand, fisting his throbbing length harshly as girly moans fill his ears and do wonders for his imagination.
Oh, how he tries not to think about you. He knows It's creepy, and he knows that if you found out you'd probably kick him out with nothing but the clothes on his back, but it's so hard. His thumb swipes over the tip, collecting the beads of precum and spreading it over himself.
You're always so perfect, so gorgeous. The sun always seems to land on your face beautifully and illuminate each of your features. He twists his hand expertly and pulls a string of breathy gasps from his chest as he squeezes the tip.
The way you walk through the living room in just a towel, dripping wet; it's almost like you're tempting him.
He's now frantically thrusting into his hand at the image in his mind, low moans and growls escaping through his gritted teeth as his head tilts back and the tendons in his neck bulge at the stretch. That coil is tightening faster that he can control, his brain foggy with thoughts of you, just you you you. The thoughts are so close that he swears he can hear you calling his name, begging him to ruin your cunt and fill you u–.
A cold feeling runs through his body as his head shoots up, his eyes meeting your shocked gaze. Unfortunately for him, that's exactly what he needed as he's sent tumbling over the edge. Hot white ropes spill from his ruddy tip and splatter across his toned chest, huffed moans and curses falling from his lips as he fucks his hand through his orgasm.
It's only when he finally opens his eyes again that the guilt hits him and he scrambles to pull his boxers back up, trying to put his still throbbing cock away.
“Fuck, I'm so sorry, didn't realise you were there! I- I had my headphones in–.” He pulls them out, trying to wipe the evidence of his sins off of his chest, but your soft hand stops him; yes, you had gotten closer.
You watch as his dark eyes trail up your arm to your face, a cocktail of dread, fear, and… something else, all brewing in his gaze; it makes you want him even more.
“I'm not mad, Marc.”
“Creeped out, then?...”
Your thumb runs over his knuckles, feeling how warm and soft his hands are. “No. I mean, I probably should be, but fuck,” your eyes are drawn to his twitching length fighting against the restraints of his tight boxers. Carefully, you crawl onto the bed, straddling his legs far enough away from his body so he can push you off if he's uncomfortable.
You inch closer to him, “ ‘s this ok?” Hands either side of his thighs, your words are soft and breathy, your eyes gazing at him with a look that is sickeningly sweet.
It makes his head wurl, a tight feeling constricting in his chest as the prettiest girl in the world sits virtually in his lap. “Yes–” his voice breaks, making you chuckle softly. “Yeah, it's more than ok.” His heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest, and you feel it as you place your hands on his chest to shuffle closer to him.
“You looked so handsome like that, Marc.” You compliment with a smile, leaning in to brush your lips across his and feel him take in a sharp breath. He catches your lips and pecks them with adoration, letting a longer kiss linger on them as you press closer to him still. After a few seconds, he moves his hands to rest on your waist, one running up your back to cup the back of your head as he runs his tongue along the seam of your mouth, and you happily oblige.
Months worth of feelings are poured into the kiss, both of you slowly and softly lapping and sucking at each other's lips before you dissolve into panting messes, biting and licking fiercely as if trying to eat each other whole.
“God damn, Spector, you're a great kisser,” you giggle softly, pulling from his lips to appreciate the shiny and red mess you'd made of him. A familiar growl rumbles in his chest, one that you'd learnt was an appreciative noise rather than something to be put off by.
“You can talk, y'know. You're not gonna scare me off.”
Briefly, you see insecurity paint across his face. It's something that you'd never seen before, a small crack in the otherwise solid structure of his frigid expression. On instinct, you brush his curls from his forehead and cup his cheeks, “I trust you, Marc, it's ok. I'm not here to judge you.”
His shoulders seem to relax as he nods a little, “I'm sorry. I don't do this often, if you hadn't noticed.”
You laugh softly and pat his chest, “that's ok, neither do I,” you smile as you sit back on your heels and pull your t-shirt off over your head. You take his hands gently and place them on your breasts, “none of them were you.”
You swear that you see him change in that moment, your words sinking in and his eyes turning hungry. His thumbs run over your hardening nipples as he surges forwards to seize you in another burning kiss that has you hot and breathless this time.
“Jesus, Marc…” a soft whine is pulled from your lips as he glides his lips down and over your neck, focusing on the pulse point below your jaw by nibbling and sucking softly. He's surprisingly quick at unclasping your bra, and he pulls away a little to admire your body.
“Shit, you're gorgeous,” he mumbles, thumbs running underneath your boobs before they work up and run across your nipples, making a gasp get caught in your throat. “You always have been gorgeous. I always look at you and think ‘fuck how doesn't she have a boyfriend yet?’”
“ ‘Cause I've been waiting to fuck my roommate…” You chuckle softly, feeling him chuckle too as his head dips to your chest and he takes your nipple into his mouth, tongue sliding over and swirling around the hard bud in a way that leaves you grinding against his thigh. Suddenly, your jeans feel so restricting, like they're choking you, stopping you from appreciating any pleasure that Marc offers you, which is why you're quick to unbutton them and slip them off… All while your roommate sucks on your tits.
“God. Do you know how many times I've touched myself hoping you’d catch me?” Your words are breathless as your body rolls against his mouth and a pleased noise from the man reverberates over your nipple. “Left my door open just a crack in hopes my moans would grab your attention, and you'd come and fuck me right…”
He audibly groans at that, pulling away to look at you again while his hands travel to your waistband.
”You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear that.”
He hungrily pulls your underwear down your thighs and off with his own following soon after, leaving you both naked and messily grinding against each other as you're caught up in yet another kiss.
You glance down eventually, being treated with the glorious sight of his thick cock throbbing and spilling pre-cum… Or maybe it's cum from his previous orgasm, either way it makes you clench your toes.
“It's bigger when I'm this close,” a nervous chuckle leaves your lips.
“I know, I know. That's also why I don't fuck much.” He laughs breathily and grips his length at the base, running it between your sopping folds and circling your clit perfectly. You grind down on his tip with a moan and pant.
“We don't have too, if you don't want to.” He reminds softly, pressing a few more kisses on your jaw, but you're quick to shake your head and grip his shoulders, “I need you inside me, Marc. Needed it since the day i fucking met you.”
You certainly don't have to tell him twice.
He's sinking inside you before you can even process his tip probing your hole. It's such a delicious stretch, one that spreads throughout your body and along your nerves. You sink down on him further, wanting to sheath him inside you whole.
You'd like to think that Marc knows you're on birth control, given the endless packets and the way you often rant to him about the imperfections of the drug. You're hoping he knows this, because you're hoping he cums inside you.
“Fucking hell Marc, shit…” You pant softly and look down between your bodies, your hands holding onto his shoulders As he grips your waist and guides you; down down down till you're sat in his lap.
You feel so full like that, and honestly you could probably just roll your hips and cum right there, but it's not long before your roommate is lifting you off of himself just to impale you once again. A rush of pleasure runs through your veins and makes your cunt clench around the girth, both of you groaning as you capture his lips again.
“Dammit… you're lucky you're hot, or I would've kicked you out–ah- for being a creep–”
“You were the one watching me stroke my fucking cock. You liked it deep down.” The man growls on your lips, making a whimper rise in your throat as you nod a little, dumbly. His breath is hot on your lips, each of your moans being swallowed by laboured gasps from the other as his hips rock up.
Although the pace isn't fast, you already feel wrecked. The stretch is so fucking good, and the way he hits your sweet spot everytime has you weak at the knees for this man, your groans turning into gasps and drawn out moans.
“M-arc, honey, I'm not gonna last much longer…” You whine pathetically, but this only makes him move faster, now bringing you down on his cock as he thrusts up harshly and sends waves of pleasure through you as he does so. “That's it, baby. Wanna feel you cum All over my cock; cum all over your roommate's cock… shit, you're so filthy, sweetheart.”
His words have your nails digging into his shoulders, your thighs burning as they finally give up and you let Marc use you, use your cunt for his own damn pleasure. The whole idea has you arching your back, and finally, with your shaky fingers circling your clit, you go crashing over that edge. Your thighs instantly clench together as whorish moans are pulled from your lungs and fill the room, ecstasy washing over you in waves and taking you to a place that you didn't even know existed, not until Marc.
Your clenching cunt is what finishes Marc off, that and the beautiful sounds you make as you come. Your walls milk him dry, taking every drop from him and more as he fills your cunt with that delicious warmth.
You sink back down on him finally and practically collapse into his chest, your arms wrapping around His torso tightly as you try and catch your breath.
The warmth that spreads through Marc's heart in that moment is almost unbearable. It's a feeling he's wanted for a long time, one that he doesn't even know how long will last, but he's sure as hell is not gonna waste it worrying.
You feel his large arms wrap around you tightly, a kiss placed on your shoulder, and then his warm breath sending goosebumps over the back of your neck as he rests his chin on your shoulder.
“Never took you as a cuddler, Marc Spector.” You mumble softly into his chest, listening to the rhythmic thump of his heart as it slows to a comforting pace.
“I'm full of surprises, sweetheart.”
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Tags 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @minigirl87 @marisferasiop @red-hydra @summonthesoups @steven-grants-world @queerponcho @ominoose @mynamesstevenwithav @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @cupidysm @clemdango04 @flowercrownonapegion @spxctorsslxt
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luveline · 9 months
Text
𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
Eddie asks you out on your very first date, indulging you in huge philly cheesesteaks, a vanilla milkshake (with two straws), a largely neglected bucket of popcorn, and a sugary first kiss. requested here. shy fem!reader, 3.2k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
I'm actually going to die here, you think morosely. 
This was a very bad idea on your part, and perhaps a worse one on his. What possessed Eddie —ripped jeaned, silver-chained, aspiring heavy metal rockstar Eddie— to ask you on a date? Perhaps you'd appeared more formidable outside of Hawkins library than you usually did.
You were in a particularly bad mood after a chilly fall afternoon spent checking the quality of the returns, and the prospect of walking home in the cold was a dismal one. You'd been glaring at nothing when a big, hulking bucket of a van slowed to a crawl beside you, thumping bass leaking from the closed window. It rolled down, the music quieting with it, and out came a head of inky dark curls. 
"Hey, sweetheart," Eddie said, pet name rolling around in his mouth, "you heading home? Do you want a ride? It's a long walk." 
Somewhere between the library and your driveway, Eddie asked you on a date. You genuinely can't remember what you talked about or how it happened, your adrenaline high enough you could've used it to climb Everest. You do remember the quiet way he'd asked, as though he was waiting for an impending rejection, and his smile bordering goofy when you breathed out, "Yeah, okay." 
You rub at the seam of your cream sweater over and over, the pad of your thumb numb. The wind runs through you, ruffling the skirt of your black dress against your thighs. I'm an idiot, you think. Hypothermia might kill you if your racing heart doesn't. 
Eddie holds a similar sentiment, "What the fuck are you doing out here?" 
You flinch embarrassingly hard. He wasn't there a moment ago. Eddie cusses and holds his hands out to you before you can slip backward off of the low brick wall you'd been waiting on, his fingers shooting tingles down into the epidermis of your skin like wild golden sparks where they grab you, hoisting you up into a more secure standing position. 
"Fuck, I'm so sorry. Like, really really sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, just– it's like, minus ten out here? What are you doing?" 
"I–" You give him a more petrified look than you mean to. "You said to meet you here?" 
Does he not want you here? Was it a joke?
Eddie laughs out of the side of his mouth like he's holding a cigarette between his lips. "Well, yeah, but I meant inside. I've been waiting for you at the table." His amusement dissipates as he feels the chill emanating from your clothes. "Jesus, I'm sorry. Are you ready to come in?" 
Minus ten was dramatic. It's a solid 30 Fahrenheit, but the cold wind makes it feel colder. As soon as you enter the diner you're warm, heat nibbling at your fingers as the blood starts to pump. Eddie takes you to the side of the restaurant away from the noise of the games machines and the bathrooms, slipping into a booth where a worn paperback book is waiting. 
"I left that in case someone decided to steal our table." 
"What if they stole your book?" you ask, sliding into the booth seat opposite. 
"They'd love it," Eddie says. He leans forward with a mischievous air about him. "It's about a bullied teenage girl who loses her shit and gets psychic powers. I think she's gonna kill someone." He blinks. "Not that that's cool." 
"It's just a book, right? You're not a murderer."
You wonder why the fuck you'd say something like that, but he nods his agreement breezily. "Exactly." 
"Plus," you add, eager to say something he'll like, "it's hard not to root for the underdog." 
His smile twitches with an emotion you can't name. "Exactly," he says again. 
A waitress with thick rings of eyeliner comes to take your order. She has a sunny attitude, like Eddie in that way, an exterior some might say was intimidating and a bright smile. You're nervous from the get go and you have a cliche worry, watching Eddie interact with her from the corner of your eye. 
"For you?" she asks you. 
You stammer. What you'd thought about on the walk here this evening can be pinpointed into two simple lines of inquiry —what should you say to Eddie, and what should you say to the waitress. Shy to the point of aching, you'd rehearsed your order ten times, but all that comes out is hot air. 
"Um," you say, wishing you'd paid more attention to what Eddie said rather than how he looked at the waitress, "could I have, uh. Just the same? As he had, please." 
"Are you sure?" Eddie asks, nothing but patience in his tone. "Do you like pink lemonade?" 
You don't want anything carbonated tonight, nauseous enough. "Um, the same but with water instead, please." 
The waitress writes a short sentence with a big flourish. "Water," she reads, giving you and Eddie each a glowing smile. "No worries, I'll bring your drinks right out, food in twenty at most."
"Thank you," you and Eddie say together, in starkly different tones. 
Eddie waits for her to leave before he shucks off his jacket. He puts his elbows on the table and runs his knuckles up and down the length of the opposite forearm, smudging the whorls of his inky tattoos, the skinny silver chain around his wrist catching the light. "You know, I don't mind doing the talking, if you don't want to." 
You can't describe the embarrassment that bites at you, then. "It's– I'm sorry, I just couldn't think of what I wanted–" 
"I'm sorry," Eddie interrupts. "I should've told her to come back in a minute, I didn't give you chance to read the menu. I swear that's the only time I'll make a dick move tonight." 
You cough. He grimaces, teeth sinking into the pink of his bottom lip as he laughs it off. "Not like that. Or, not not like that. No dick moves," he says, "I just wanted to talk to you over a table rather than that pillar of a desk in the library." 
"It's a really tall desk." 
"It's so tall! I get that they want us to have somewhere to put the books but they have to go down to you guys anyways when you stamp 'em." 
"I don't know what the idea was behind them," you say. 
"Maybe they hired a bunch or very small librarians initially," Eddie says. He spies the waitress approaching with your drinks and leans back to accommodate her. He thanks her, but as soon as she leaves he's staring at your tap water with critical eyes. "It looks a little cloudy. You want my lemonade, instead?" 
"No, it's okay," you say, though drinking it feels like a bad idea. There's a whirlpool of scum at the top like clouds circling a mountain peak, ice cubes drifting in slow laps beneath. 
"I can take it back–" 
"Please don't," you say, "I'd be so embarrassed, it's only water." 
"I get you. Maybe I can get you something else, then. I'd say we should get hot cocoa but it's weird having hot cocoa with cheesesteaks." Eddie knocks the table. "I'm really sorry I asked you here." 
Your heart could be likened to a balloon popped by a sharp pin. You knew he'd regret asking you, knew it was too good to be true–
"We should've gone somewhere nice. Like Enzo's or Bullock's. Hey, we even could've gone into Indianapolis. And I have to say sorry double 'cos I should've asked you if I could give you a ride, I really messed it up." 
"It's not messed up," you say. "It's not." 
Eddie smiles at you, his most stripped back to date. 
Things are awkward and you theorise that it's your fault, but Eddie doesn't let you flounder in it. He asks questions, he says kind things. You have no choice but to relax and laugh at his ill-conceived jokes. You almost choke on your sub and he goes as far as to say, "Hey, you even make choking look good," having leapt up to pat your back. It's too much but it's weirdly nice at the same time. It's almost worth dying if it means Eddie's gonna rub your back with a big, unflinching hand. 
He wanders off when he's sure you're alive and you catastrophize: choking is far from attractive. He saw the way your nose wrinkled and your jaw went soft in your coughing and jumped ship. You dab the tears (from choking, though they could change at any moment) away with a napkin, sniffling. Your throat hurts and your sandwich doesn't look as appetising now. 
"Here," Eddie says, placing a tall glass in front of you grandly. 
"What is it?" you ask, though it could only be one thing. 
"Vanilla milkshake. Benny uses full fat cream, it's basically ice cream and nothing else. Is that okay?" 
You take a sip through a red and white striped straw without answering, the cold soothing your raw throat. A second straw stabs you in the cheek. 
"That ones for me," Eddie jokes. 
You swear you're gonna catch fire, putting the milkshake down with a thunk. "Oh," you say. 
"I'm kidding," he says. 
"No, I mean, if you want to share–" 
You're offering in the interest of being polite, but the look on Eddie's face reminds you of the more romantic connotations. "You sure?" he asks. 
You could say no. "Yeah. Of course." 
Between sips, you talk. Your conversation begins to feel like the unwinding a tight knot, unravelling defences you were unaware of, like a tapestry you never agreed to shaken out. Sure, you're shy, but you're interesting, and you have things to say. Eddie's eager to hear them; he won't stop pulling on the thread. 
Your throat tickles intermittently with scratchy pain. Eddie tucks a rather lustrous curl behind his ear, exposing a small stud earring and a hoop behind it. 
"I never noticed you have your ears pierced," you say, leaning forward to take another sip. 
Eddie pulls his straw from the glass to hit at yours teasingly, the slope of his eyebrows arching steeper. "Then you should look at me more often," he says. He stabs his straw into the glass and meets your eyes. To the outside observer, you're sure you look like partners getting gooey. "Notice anything else new?" 
Your pulse tangles in on itself, a snag in the thread. "Um, well…" You glance over his pale cheeks, their gentle caress of freckles. "You have freckles… and," —there, nestled between his lashes like a tiny dotted star— "a beauty mark under your eye." 
He doesn't smile, but some sweet softness plays in his eyes, his lashes kissing as they close ever so slightly. "You're prettier up close," he says quietly. "I didn't think you could get much prettier, but I've never been this close before, I guess." 
You take another sip to avoid further mortifying yourself with a stammering answer, but Eddie has a similar idea, leaning in. More awkward to pull apart, you share your drink and try not to bump his nose. The drink slurps and crackles as you finish it off together. Sitting back with twin smiles, awkward and flushed and not knowing what else to say, you fluster. There's a lot of stuff you want to ask him, but now he's finished his food and the milkshake is empty, you might not have time.
"Did you, like, wanna catch a movie or something?" Eddie asks, sounding for a second not quite as confident as he appears. 
You like metalhead Eddie, but you're starting to love this earnest version of him too. 
"Yeah, I'll see a movie with you," you say quickly. 
"Yeah? I know that's weird to plan more date in the middle of the date, I'm not trying to pressure you." 
"I've never been on a date before, so. This is setting the precedent." 
"The precedent," he says. "For future dates?" 
Is he hopeful? You open your mouth without thinking. "With you." 
His lips purse to one side, tamping down a big smile. Your cheeks hurt from how much you've smiled tonight. Is it always like this? Being with someone, dating, is it always unnervingly pleasant? You're eager to find out, and Eddie's eager to show you. 
"Let me go track down our waitress and we can probably get to the Hawk before the seven thirty," he says, clambering sideways out of the booth. 
You and Eddie are fifteen minutes late for a slasher movie, but you get there. Dark, two lone seats at the back are your only options, and you cram into them together with a frankly ridiculously huge bucket of popcorn to share. Eddie keeps whispering even when it's quiet and ticking off your rowmates, but he's being so sweet on you that you forget where you are. You forget to worry about what people are thinking. 
It's bliss. 
"Look at that," Eddie says, a handful of popcorn to his lips. "Ew, that's bloody. Shit, sweetheart, don't look at that." 
Sweetheart. "What do you think that is?" you whisper. 
"The fake blood? Isn't it pig's blood?"
"Is that legal?" 
Eddie almost drops the popcorn as something super gross happens, a silver flash and a spray of sticky orange movie blood coating the protagonist. "Holy fuck," he says, much too loudly as he puts the popcorn in your lap and covers your eyes. 
You laugh in surprise, "Woah, wait a second!" 
Someone shushes you loudly (and deservedly) from the row in front. 
"Sh, we're at the movies!" Eddie whisper-shouts. "Don't be inconsiderate." 
You peel his hand from your eyes. It doesn't drop entirely, long fingers slipping slowly down your cheek, turning your face to his. He's close, the nature of the small seats and your low conversation, his skin glowing with a red-pink and dappled white as the movie plays to your left. 
"Can I kiss you?" he whispers. 
On the walk to Benny's, your mind had drifted to the fantasy of a kiss. Eddie and his hands, the small silver bands of his rings and their heavier signets, how he'd offer to drive you home, walk you to your door, and peck you chastely in goodbye. He'd smell like his cologne that you tend to notice when he returns his borrowed books on Saturday mornings, chamomile and something deeper you've never been able to identify, no matter how long he stood there chatting. His lips would feel solid and cold from the weather, and here's where you stopped yourself from thinking any further, blood rushing to your wind-bitten cheeks. 
It's not so simply condensed, here. 
"I've never kissed anyone before," you whisper. 
"I'll have to set a good precedent, then," he says, rubbing the hollow of your under eye tenderly. "Or you can say no. That's okay, too."
You shake your head, "I want you to." 
The eagerness that's been simmering behind his eyes all night rears as he ducks in for a kiss. It's not what you're expecting, but it isn't bad; it's lots of things, his hand on your face and your elbow, your hands vying for him in startled delight, the popcorn between your knees tipping dangerously to the side as your lips give under his. 
He doesn't smell like chamomile at first, but hairspray. He presses against the seam of your lips and only as they part, forcing you to suck in a breath through your nose, do you smell it on him, close now. The cologne must linger on his shirt. 
He pulls away to shush you gently but urgently, Don't get us kicked out, it seems to say. 
And he's kissing you again. Nothing heavy, charged all the same, the barest taste of sweet popcorn shared between you. His hand does half the work, the tracing of his fingertips and the soft line they draw as he slots them behind your ear puttyifying you, like jelly in his warm palm. You make an unsure sound and he pulls away a second time, sugary brown eyes widened in concern.
"Bad?" he whispers. 
"Am I doing it right?" you ask. 
The concern becomes adoring. You feel like you've been injected with manic butterflies, having a guy like Eddie looking at you like that. "You're doing it super right," he says, so quietly you can barely hear him. "I'd tell you practise makes perfect 'cos I'm dying to do it again, but it was already perfect. You lying to me?" 
"No, of course I'm–" 
"I was kidding," he says, his side pressed heavily to the back of his chair as he drops his hand to your elbow casually.
"Oh. I knew that." 
He pats your arm, sympathetic, a tad condescending but he's hot enough to get away with it like this, lips kissed rosy and a glossy black curl falling into his eyes. 
You look down at his lips. Eddie doesn't make you beg, but he does gesture you forward, your hand landing atop his thigh as you angle up for another kiss. It's unlike you, but it's such a rush of feeling, you don't give your hokey-pokey brain time to consider the things you'd usually worry about. 
That being said, you pause just before your lips connect. You close your eyes too hard, head listing to the side self-consciously. 
Eddie must see it, whispering reassurances with a rough scratch, "Hey, it's okay. You can kiss me. You worry a lot for such a pretty girl, you know that?" He takes your hand. "Don't overthink it." 
"I can't," you say. 
"Take the night off. Let me worry…" His breath fans over your lips. "I'll take the lead," he suggests, closing the short gap between you. 
Your hand goes limp in his. 
The flowers are delivered to your desk sometime in the mid-afternoon. Pearly white lilies with green spots creeping toward the soft edges. Your chest yawns open and your lips curl into a smile like you've been hooked, rubbing a thick petal between your thumb and your forefinger. 
There's a long note folded and tied to one of the stems. 
Y/N, 
I am so, so sorry. So sorry. I am the sorriest boy who has ever lived, and I would love to make it up to you. Please call me when you get the flowers and tell me if they're a sufficient apology, or don't call me and I'll send you more. I know you said it was fine, but still.
Yours, Eddie Munson. 
P.S. did the flashlight guy have to be that mean? He pretty much blinded us with that thing. And did he have to make fun of my jacket? 
P.P.S I promise I will get you unbanned from the Hawk. Best date ever, yeah? 
You'll call him. Getting kicked out was a joint effort, after all, and you really want him to kiss you dizzy again, even if you found it hard to look at him on the drive home.
Maybe if he kisses you enough, you'll forget how it felt to be shepherded out of the movie theatre like a common criminal. 
You drop the note between the pages of your current read with a sigh. "Best date ever," you say. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you so much for reading! i really hope you enjoyed ♡ if you did, please considering reblogging, it means the world and makes a difference :D 
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thisonehere · 3 months
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The Lin Kuei Boys finds out you were a woman
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A/n: You were disguised as a man and they knew nothing until your true gender was revealed in some way or another. This is a headcanon version of the fic I recently mentioned in a poll, still working on that, just thought to do this because I thought it would be fun.
C/w: Mulan rip-off, afab reader, Bi-Han being Bi-Han
Bi-Han
He holds you in very high regard. You were one of his most seasoned warriors. You impressed him with your skill and ferocity in wielding a sword, shooting bows and arrows, and your tenacity in hand-to-hand combat.
He hadn't always respected you though. When you first came to him, he saw you as a sickly little boy who no would doubt die before you even entered a training ground.
But you surprised him, you were much stronger, faster, and vicious than you appeared. Impressed, Bi-Han took you under his wing and taught you everything he knew.
You made Bi-Han proud with every victory you had. Though most of the time he had a stern frown on his face most of the time, it was noticeable that Bi-Han had a smile on his whenever he watched you train. He even laughed to himself when you and him would spar. Finally, he has found a worthy warrior to welcome into his inner circle.
Whenever you had meetings, he was sure to sit you close to him with Kuai, Sektor, and Cyrax. He would even try to replace poor Tomas with you. But, much to his surprise, you declined. You didn't hesitate to argue and push back with Bi-Han whenever the situation arose. And Bi-Han liked it, you have the spine to talk back and stand up to him. Though it is stupid to stand against him, he appreciated the gall enough.
He notices how often you hide your body and even your face with masks and baggy clothes. He of course found it strange, but he was willing to look past it. He has seen your face and he found it weird how...womanly you sometimes looked. He also found it weird how he was attracted he was to you...but, once again, he ignored it.
When it is revealed
...
WHAT!?!?!?!
Impossible. It can't be. You...You're a woman?!?!
Bi-han's brain is frazzled by all this news. He doesn't know what to think. All those times he spared with you, argued with you, watched you fight...you were a woman, you could've gotten hurt. A wave of confusion and strange anger encompasses him after this.
He feels...emasculated by you. Every time he lost to you, he lost to a woman! He is the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei and he was brought low by you, it wounds his fragile ego.
Things change considerably after that. Where once he saw you as steel and mighty, now he views you as glass and fragile. Whenever you asked to spar he declined, he even would try to shut you down if you tried to fight with any other of his men. He wouldn't send you on missions, but he would begrudgingly concede because Kuai would insist that you'd come.
He suddenly views you as weak and constantly at risk of dying, even though you have proven that you are just as good as any of his other men.
He would always berate his men and wouldn't hesitate to be rough with them, but with you, he was very gentle, almost respectful. Whenever you entered the room he would rise from his chair if he was sitting, even going so far as offering his set to you. He would be strangely polite to you, which just felt wrong for him to act that way.
He couldn't deny anymore that he was attracted to you. Whenever he held meetings you felt his eyes linger on you. Whenever he is alone, images of you run through his mind. You're all he can think about, he has become obsessed. He can't take it anymore, he has to have you. This makes sense, doesn't it? Surely, a strong woman like you belongs with a strong man like him.
He doesn't straight away reveal his intentions. Instead, he teases and suggests such ideas to you. He gets angry when you don't seem interested, or worse, that you don't notice. And unfortunately for him, you refuse. Things get rough between you two, the tension is sometimes so thick you could cut it with a knife. Bi-han still looks at you with desire in his, and you ignore him.
Kuai Liang
You and Kuai had a very close relationship. You would spar together almost all the time, and you'd hang out in a normal way too. Kuai was a much easier man to be around compared to Bi-Han.
When you first came to the Lin Kuei, Bi-Han almost immediately turned you away. You would have been sent away in shame, had not Kuai Liang intervened. He spoke on your behalf and convinced his brother to let you stay. And even he was surprised when you proved to be an exceptional warrior.
You make him proud to call you "friend". He loved watching how you fight, it's almost like you're dancing. He beams in pride at every victory you take in Kombat. He struggles to fight off a smile whenever Bi-han acknowledges you with respect.
Kuai loves you greatly, he considers you a brother like he does Tomas. But he will admit, there are some parts of you that he finds weird. Such as how you always were sure to wear clothes that were baggy and didn't show the shape of your body, or how your voice sounded a tad bit weird, like you were trying to make it sound deeper than it truly was. Nonetheless, he respected you and your choices.
He can't lie, Kuai does feel some strange attraction to you. He doesn't know why, it feels so strange to feel this way, especially towards you. He doesn't say anything about this to you or anyone else, such feelings should be suppressed and ignored. Besides, you his closest friends and greatest warriors, why would he ever want to change things with you and jeopardise your relationship?
When it is revealed
Oh...Well, that's a surprise.
Kuai is taken by surprise by this. He never would've anticipated who you truly were. Unlike Bi-han, he isn't upset because you're a woman, he's upset because he feels a little betrayed. The person he thought he knew may not be who they say they are. His mind races, who are you truly? Are you the same person he grew to love and call a friend, or was that an act so you could fit in?
Kuai has always been respectful to you, and that doesn't change after you are revealed to be a woman. He still thinks of you highly, though his view of you is shaken slightly. He still treats you like an equal and like family. He hopes that you, though it might have been fake, keep your close bond and stay friends.
Kuai notices Bi-Han's sudden treatment towards you and often finds himself arguing with him on your behalf. He refuses to sit aside and watch his brother treat him this way. Kuai makes an effort to treat you the same as when he thought you were a man
He does have thoughts about you, many thoughts about you. The feelings he has for you seem to grow every day. He wants to say something to you, express how he feels. But he knows this could ruin your relationship, he also doesn't want to treat you differently, so he continues to smile to your face and treat you with respect and desire you in private. He watches you train, awed by your greatness. "You fight well, for a...uh...n-nevermind." He says, embarrassed and instantly regretting his words.
Tomas
Tomas? You two are inseparable. Though Kuai always tried, Tomas has always felt like an outsider. Bi-Han didn't help matters with his constant berating.
So he is so happy when you come. With you, he feels a close bond. You're both outsiders, no Lin Kuei blood in your veins. But you form some sort of "brotherhood" of your own.
With you, Tomas feels fully able to express how he feels with fear of being judged like he is with his adoptive family. You don't mock his shyness, you embrace it and make him feel special.
He deeply appreciates you don't hesitate to defend him whenever Bi-Han even thinks about bullying him. You're protective of him, it makes him feel so safe and loved. You and Kuai mean more to him than you could even know.
You're such an amazing warrior, so strong, so brave. Tomas... loves you. It feels strange for him to feel this way about another man but he does and he doesn't hate it. He ha ya grown so attached to you that he can't imagine a single thing coming between you.
After it is revealed.
Oh, my Gods! You're a...this is so embarrassing...
Tomas can't help but feel panicked and embarrassed. After all that time you and he have spent together, he has said some things, and done some things that he would be too shy to ever do with anyone else but you. he thought he knew you, but now he's not sure if he even knows a single thing about you.
He feels cheeks flush with abashment whenever he sees you. After all, you have done and said with each other, he worries about what you might truly think of him. Are you still friends?
Hates the way he now views you so differently. You're a woman, yes, but that doesn't mean you deserve to be treated differently. For some time, he is awkward and distant around you, scared that he'll make a wrong move and embarrass himself in front of you.
But you act no differently than when he thought you were a man. You still fought with strength and ferocity, you don't back down whenever someone like Bi-Han attempts to put you or him down, and you still have that glorious fire in your eyes. The fire that Tomas loved so much.
So things go back to normal between you two. Well...he still has a crush on you. But what's new? As long as he could stay by your side and call you "friend", that's all that matters to him.
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petrapalerno · 4 months
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Submitting to the Alien Barbarian #4
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Alien x fem reader, a dom/sub erotic short.
TW/CW: rough consensual sex, primal play, knotting, breeding, aliens, dominance/submission, blood play, spanking, breath play, and violence.
MASTER POST
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PREVIOUS
You reach for him, but find nothing but a fistful of purple fur. Maybe he’s finally gone back to the orgy and found something else to rut. 
You blink, trying to clear your crusted eyes of sleep. Could you even find your way back to the spawning pits on your own? You weren’t really paying attention to what direction he walked when you were slung over his shoulder. 
He couldn’t have walked that far, could he?  
With a deep breath, you push your body up to sit; every muscle feels overworked and stiff as you move. Bringing your hands down to your pussy, you wince. 
Being overworked is an understatement. You’re ninety-nine percent sure that you’ve torn something. 
Sure, you like it rough, but everyone’s got a limit. You could stay here one more night and soldier back to the pits for more fun before you’re taken to the Volkroth nesting grounds. 
The actual giving birth part of the breeding program isn’t really the thing that excites you, but it’s kind of package deal. Luckily, you’ve been assured that the gestation time is short and birth is much easier than for normal humans. The Volkroth deliver very undeveloped young and are brought to term outside the body at the nesting grounds. 
When it was being described to you, they made it seem like they reproduced similarly to pandas or kangaroos— but no pouch was required. The tiny baby bean goes into some kind of pod, and you can go about getting fucked roughly for the rest of the spawning season. They raise the young communally too, so there’s no expectation of parenting for you either. 
Looking at the sheer size of the Volkroth, the whole idea of a tiny bean of a baby seems ludicrous. But then again, you’re no expert on alien reproduction. 
You’re just here to be ripped apart, and you’ve still got three months left until the spawning season ends. One rest day won’t put that big a damper on your orgy fun, will it? 
The fire you slept next to is low, and you nudge a puck of the fuel you saw Drohako stoke it with last night into the flames. They instantaneously spark and the fire greedily engulfs the puck of dried vegetation and mud. 
You’re just about to lie back down when you hear grunting and the hide that covers the cave’s entrance flies open. 
The sun blasts into the cave, and your eyes struggle to adjust to the alien sun’s intensity. Slowly, two forms begin to block out the light. 
Drohako stands, one arm up, holding the lead to some huge alien animal. As he guides it through the opening, it limps on one of its four legs. 
“Stupid Grasyi, I hope the run was worth it.” He barks at the beast that looks like a cross between a Bengal tiger and a moose. As he ties the animal up, you see its legs are far too tall to belong to a big cat, but its blocky head is feline. A set of large and branching black antlers curl around his head. Its striped yellow fur is thick and fluffy, but you can tell it masks how vicious the beast is. The animal’s almond eyes flick over to you as it licks its lips lazily, revealing a viciously sharp set of teeth, it's incisors lengthening out like a snakes fangs. 
“Drohako?” 
“Who else would it be?” He turns to me, annoyed and scowling. 
“I don’t know. I figured you headed back to the spawning pits. Don’t get pissy with me.” I stand slowly and with a great deal of shaking effort. 
“And now you’re hurt, too? You, little human, might have eyes bigger than your cunt.” He gestures down to his crotch. His massive cocks are covered with some kind of loincloth. It does little to hide his thunder, so to speak. 
You scoff, but he’s probably not wrong. Taking a step forward, your knees unexpectedly give out. Closing your eyes, you expect to fall face first into the fire. 
You feel the heat on your cheeks, but not the licking sting of the flames. Bringing your hand up to your chest, you feel Drohako’s brawny forearm. It grips your chest tightly, holding you just above the fire. 
“You move pretty fast for a big guy,” you chirp, still woozy. 
“You are injured,” he tells you earnestly. 
“No shit, Sherlock,” you mutter under your breath, and he pulls you into his arms. 
“You will tell me next time you’re injured. You won’t be stupid like this again,” He scolds as we walk further into the cave. 
My stomach grumbles and clenches uncomfortably. “Maybe I’m just hungry.” 
Drohako groans, “You are both, and you’ve informed me of neither.” 
“Sorry, I thought you hit it and quit it,” I laugh. “I’m sure I would have figured it out once I made it back to the spawning pits—“
Drohako wraps his hand around your hair and tugs your head back hard. 
“You are not going back to the spawning pits. In fact, you will not leave the home cave,” he seethes. 
“What? Were you serious last night? Isn’t that the point of me being here?” He steps over some kind of ledge, and you realize he’s lowering you both into the hot spring you saw last night.
Drohako tucks his legs under him, sitting over his crossed ankles, and cradles you as he slowly brings your body under the water’s surface. Now that you’re actually in it, you don’t think it’s water. It’s not sticky, but it is thick like syrup. It clings to your body and displaces in ways that water wouldn’t.  As you lay across his lap, he looks at you with a sour scowl and tugs your hair back into the pool, “Hold your breath.” 
You don’t do it fast enough, and some water gets into your nose and lungs. You choke when he lets you up, gasping for air and forcing the warm water out of your chest. 
“What the fuck? You’re mad that I’m injured, so you try to drown me?” You sputter at him. 
“The frustrating fact that you have no self-preservation skills, and also can’t follow instructions, isn’t my fault…now is it? Quit complaining before I gag you again. The planet’s blood is healing.” He acts like he would rather do anything other than caring for you…but does it all the same. 
“Planet’s blood? Healing?” You ask, but realize that he’s right. Your muscles are relaxing, and even your crotch isn’t as sore. 
“How injured is your cunt?” He asks as if you’re talking about the weather. 
“It’s sore,” you say, trying to mitigate how painful it actually is. 
With a sigh and an eye roll, he spins you so that your head rests just below his pecs. You feel pint-sized when he’s manhandling you. 
You don’t resist when he pulls your knees apart wide enough so that your feet fall on the outside of his own legs. You watch him with curiosity as he slides a big purple hand between your legs. He rubs broadly over your mound and lips, working the healing water over your pussy. 
You ease into him as some of the stinging is instantly soothed. 
Your mouth parts as his hand dips lower, and two of his thick fingers run up and down the lips of my pussy before pressing into you entrance. You flinch slightly as he touches your torn skin. 
“I should fuck you even rawer for not telling me you were hurt,” he says through gritted teeth. 
You wonder if maybe he actually did scrambled something in your brain when slammed it into the ground. A cord tightens inside you as your arousal grows. It would fucking hurt, but in a way, you feel you would like. 
You buck your hips a little, maybe giving him the gentle nudge he needs to fucking wreck you again. 
His other hand wraps around your neck, squeezing the sides hard. You bite your lip, unable to help the warmth spreading over your body.
“You are an insolent thing who will only get fucked once she listens. You’re going to have to earn these cocks.” 
You expect him to move his hands a little faster, perhaps slipping at least one of his cocks up into you. 
But he doesn’t. He rubs your torn pussy slowly, and you can almost feel it mending itself, thanks to the weird alien liquid. The new skin that grows is more sensitive than what was there before, and it doesn’t help you lessen your arousal. 
“Do you want this seed filling your belly, growing my spawn?” He breathes into your ear, and all the while, his hands move torturously slowly on your no longer painful pussy. 
“Yes,” you sigh as he squeezes your neck all the harder. 
“Do you want your tight little human cunt to milk these cocks?” He rasps, letting his fingers find your clit. Because the liquid your in, the planet’s blood, is thick and viscous, it lets him glide over the sensitive spot at your pussy’s apex with ease. 
Your legs shake as he runs circles around the bundle of nerves, your muscles clasping, begging to be filled up with his thick cocks. You want to feel the delicious swell of his knotting dicks again. 
“Please Drohako,” you moan, arching up. 
“Do you want to come, little human?” He bites your ear lobe hard. 
“Fuck yes,” you say, so close to the edge of no return. 
“Then you will fucking listen to me from now on,” his tone changes from sensual to angry in the span of a heartbeat. 
You’re surprised when he stops petting your pussy and pushes your knees shut. You're still throbbing with need when he pushes you forward into the pool so he can leave it. 
“Did you really just do that?” You pant as you watch him walk back toward the front of the cave, pushing your own hand between your thighs. If you don’t find your release, you feel like you’ll explode and your fingers work furiously, trying to expedite your own ecstasy. 
“Don’t you fucking dare touch yourself,” his voice booms as he snarls at you. You jump almost as much as the strange creature tied up by the cave’s entrance. “You will come only when I allow it, and right now, you don’t deserve it.” 
Oh. This is a thing, a thing you like. Do you get off on withholding? 
“You will let your body heal, you will eat the food I’m about to bring you, and you will stop talking about returning to the spawning pits. You took my knot, you are my mate.” He balls his fists up. “I will teach you some gods’ damn discipline if it’s the last fucking thing I do,” His purple face is flushed near blue as he points an accusatory finger at you. 
“Your mate?” You ask, bewildered.
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tteokdoroki · 11 months
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hi my beloved angel could i pls request shinsou + ❛ you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up. ❜ :33
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☆༉ — HITOSHI SHINSOU: 0-800-HOT GUY-HOTLINE.
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line. ❛ you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up. ❜
extension. edging kink + fem!reader + nsfw.
things to note. for you my baby!! i hope u like heeem n that i characterised him well!!
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it’s not your fault, really. 
usually you’re so obedient and good when it comes to hitoshi — he takes care of your needs as long as you behave and listen to him. with him, you cum as many times as you want, cry as loud as you want and your boyfriend will always make sure that you’re satisfied by the end. you’re spoiled in a sense. but today, shinsou seems keen on undoing that narrative. 
you’ve lost count of how many hours he’s been going at this, fucking just the tip of his girth into you at a painstakingly slow rate — you’ve tried everything, throwing it back on him, your usual whining, even grovelling, but the hero won’t budge. each time, he runs a hand down your spine affectionately and cherishes the way that your whole body shivers at the contact — only whispering a short.
“be patient, angel,” he says in that low, commanding voice of his. “don’t you wanna be good for me?” 
and of course you do, you love hitoshi so much and he treats you so well. it’d only be right for you to trust him, let him abuse your runny little hole with the the fat, achingly hot tip of his dick until he’s the one that’s satisfied. he pushes his hips forward, only just, breaching your gushing walls with hardly any resistance because you’re so wet from being teased but being spoiled all the time breeds bad habits and keeping you on the very edge of cumming like this. 
secretively, you slip one of your hands between your salt-slicked body and the bed sheets hitoshi has you bent over, brushing over your rock hard nipples and the sensitive spots along your pelvis before you’re able to reach your puffy pussy. it’s hard to keep quiet when you’re finally able to graze your the poor, unattended nub tucked between your slick folds — drawing lazy shapes over it just like hitoshi would do for you. you attempt to choke down a delicate whimper, stuffing your teary face into the cotton to muffle the louder sounds that start to escape you. 
“you sound so needy,” hitoshi breathes, placing a large hand on the small of your back to deepen your arch from behind. he rewards you, for sounding so pretty, he really can’t help it either — giving into his habit as he fucks you halfway down to his twitching length, his arousal bleeding rip nestled just inches shy from your gummy g-spot. “being so good ‘n patient, angel. love it when you’re like this. all pliant and desperate for some cock.” 
you wail in reply, writhing and wriggling for more — only to be forced into pleasuring yourself, pinching and rubbing at your clit in tune with shinsou’s shallow thrusts past your rippling entrance. he soothes you, rubbing circles into your hip dips as he whispers little praises like “just a little longer. “you’re doing so well for me sweetheart.” “i can’t wait until i get to fill you up.” 
that is until he feels your sly little hand brush against this muscular inner thigh, while you attempt to get yourself off. one moment, you’re on the verge of finally hitting release, the next, all of that mounting and heavenly pleasure is ripped away from you by hitoshi’s discovery.
“toshi!” you snivel desperately, trying to appeal to his gentler side when he pulls out of you completely — exposing your hot cunt to cool air as you pulse around nothing. “p-please, please ‘m sorry!” 
he sucks his teeth, three fingers coming down harsh on your sopping mound which causes you to jolt forward on the bed in suprise. “oh, I don’t think you are.”  he seethes cruelly, throwing his weight over your trembling body while he licks a wet trail up and behind your ear. “if you were, you wouldn’t be trying to fuck yourself while i’m spoiling you with my cock.” 
okay, so maybe it is your fault. 
shaking your head, you try to wriggle away — your hips running from the sudden and relentless pressure shinsou applies to your greedy clit from behind. “i p-promise! i am, ‘m so sorry. hnngh, ‘toshi ‘m gonna cum! t-too fast!” 
“don’t care.” the purple haired hero grunts, only speeding up. “you wanted to cum so bad? instead of being a good girl and waiting for me?” nipping at your earlobe, shinsou chuckles coyly and smacks a hand down on your pussy again. “now you’re complaining about it being too fast? well too fucking bad. you get what you give, angel.” 
shinsou’s threat should scare you, but it only serves to turn you on even more — clear streams of your arousal painting his thick fingers against your heat like a sugar glaze. 
“d-do it, i dare you.” you manage to bleat out, challenging him. 
the laugh your boyfriend lets out is both cold and amused, overlapped by the squelch of your princess cunt as he replaces what used to be his heavy cock with his fingers inside of you. curling them straight away. 
“challenge accepted, sweetheart.” shinsou grins, pumping in and out of you so fast you hardly realise that you’ve hit your first orgasm until it’s too late — squirting about the place and soaking the sheets. “but this time, you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up.”
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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thatmexisaurusrex · 5 days
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What if in the big first disaster mini-arc of season 8, Tommy's helicopter crashes close to where the 118 are. Gerrard decides that the helicopter, and everyone that is in it, is a lost cause and that they shouldn't be wasting resources or his team trying to help anyone out of the crash. What if the entire team mutinies to go find Tommy, his team, his helicopter, and the patients he was transporting?
What if the people in the helicopter crash are scattered - some in the helicopter, some flung out of it? What if Tommy was one of the people flung out of the helicopter; lost and out of range?
What if the 118 manages to find the helicopter, only to see that Tommy is missing? But they have to secure the scene, they have to call for back up, they have to make sure everyone still in the helicopter is okay. But maybe Hen takes over the scene and tells Chimney and Buck to keep searching the woods for other survivors.
And Buck feels guilty that he's relieved that Hen chose him to go sift through the woods of this mountain for other survivors, but there's really no time to think about that. There's no time at all.
Lives are on the line.
Tommy is out there.
And in the woods, Tommy is hurt. He's hurt, but he can hear someone calling for help. So, he moves despite knowing full well that might be bad for him. He moves because he's a first responder and will always try to help someone in need. And he finds one of his patients worse off than before. And he feels guilt that due to bad weather conditions and how the fire in the woods traveled (did I not say there was a fire? There's a fire and it's threatening to reach their side of the mountain at any moment), he lost control of the helicopter (and I would like to think there would be another twist too, like the 118 find something was already messed up with the helicopter to begin with, so it was a miracle that Tommy could even fly it at all).
But Tommy could do this.
He could save this one person.
So, Tommy's doing his best. He's working through his own pain as he puts a splint on this person's leg, as he pops this person's dislocated arm back in, as he makes the split decision to burn a cut closed because he doesn't have the supplies and that was the best he could do without the person bleeding out during a hike. And he makes a fucking board out of low branches he rips off trees. And, damn it, he knows his radio is basically busted, but he tries for help, only getting broken static back.
But he is going through.
He just can't hear the other end.
But his words are getting through the radio - they're reaching Buck. And Buck is desperately trying to answer back, he's trying to far longer than he should, he should have realized the first four tries that Tommy can't here him.
But he knows which direction Tommy is going. Because he and Tommy hiked up this mountain before. Buck knows which trail Tommy is trying to get to, so it's a race against time - will Buck and Chimney get to Tommy and the patient before the fire gets to them?
And the answer is that they get there just as the fire does. Nipping at Tommy's heels, but it ends up being stopped by a water drop just in time. Tommy is stunned when he sees Chimney and Evan, he's truly stunned.
He didn't think anyone heard him.
He didn't think they were going to be found in time.
And Buck calls it in, asks for backup, asks for help. Chimney checks on the person Tommy did first aid on.
And Tommy.
And Buck.
They run to each other.
They collapse into each other's arms. Exhausted and running on adrenaline alone. And they're checking if the other is okay - both are very worse for wear. And things seem okay as they wait for help to get to them. Things are going great for Hen too, she successfully saves everyone else in the helicopter crash with Eddie and Ravi's help.
But then.
A tree nearby is unstable.
Tommy sees it just in time.
And Tommy pushes Chimney out of the way, only to be caught under the tree.
And this is bad.
Back breaking bad.
Body crushing bad.
Buck tries not to panic, but it's clear this has shaken him. Chimney is doing his best and is calling for more help.
Help gets there, help finally gets there. And they manage to pull the tree off Tommy. Buck rides with Tommy to the hospital, holding his hand. He paces, distressed, as he waits for the longest surgery in his life.
And Tommy? Tommy should make it. But he's out, he's been put into a medically induced a coma as he heals. And at first, that's okay. Buck can be there. He can make sure Tommy's warm. He can hold Tommy's hand and read to him, and sleep in a rolled in bed.
Until that stops.
Mysteriously, he's not allowed into Tommy's room.
He's not allowed any information.
He's not Tommy's family.
And Tommy's parents are, somehow, technically still Tommy's next of kin - they're in charge of his medical treatment. They're in charge of who sees him.
Buck tries to explain who he is.
They reject the very idea of it.
And it's devastating. Buck didn't think about this. He didn't know this could happen. Tommy hadn't spoken to his parents in over twenty years, yet they're just allowed to come and do this to him.
Buck doesn't know what to do. He can't eat. He can't sleep. People have to force him to do anything for himself as he wonders how Tommy's parents are treating him.
Are they reading to him? Are they spending time with him? Are they making sure he's warm? Are they doing anything at all? Is this all for spite?
Somehow, other people are allowed to visit.
Just not Buck.
Buck is blacklisted.
Eddie is allowed; Christopher too. Chimney, somehow; probably because Tommy had saved his life. Maddie, even. Hen isn't, they can tell something is queer about Hen. Ravi isn't either. Bobby was allowed at first, before he made a case to the Kinards to let Buck see Tommy and it went south.
But definitely not Buck.
And Buck? Buck is camped out in the waiting room. The waiting room he kissed Tommy in. He basically has grown a short beard in that waiting room, he hasn't been shaving.
And all Buck can ask when he sees Eddie or Chimney or Maddie is - how is he doing? Is he doing okay? Is his favorite blanket still on him? What did you talk to him about? What did you read him? How did he look?
And the nurses - they know Buck. They've known him for years. And some take pity on him one night, and let him at least near the room when the parents are gone.
And the parents file for a restraining order against Buck, but it was worth it just to see Tommy.
Tommy looked better than last time.
That was good.
That was what mattered.
And a few more days go by like that with Buck in the waiting room, unable to leave.
Until Tommy wakes up.
He wakes up.
He asks his parents to leave.
He asks for Evan.
And a band of nurses and maybe Chimney rush over and tell Buck the news.
And Buck is running.
Sprinting.
To get to Tommy's room.
He knows where it is.
He memorized where the room was.
And he sees Tommy awake.
And part of him hadn't realized that he wasn't sure if Tommy would wake up. That some little, horrible part of him thought that Tommy would never wake up and he would never see Tommy again.
Tommy makes a joke about how Evan looks like a caveman.
Buck laughs. And cries. And sobs as he rushes frantically over to Tommy and collapses into a hug.
Tommy holds Buck as best as he can in his state while mumbling fondly that Evan smells like a caveman too. Buck offers to go, get cleaned up, but Tommy holds onto him.
Asks Evan to stay.
Apologizes for his parents, that he hadn't expected them to come. That he is going to change his will as soon as he can.
And he just wants Evan there.
With him.
And Buck stays.
[ made a fic based on this on AO3 in my Denial-Verse series ]
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worriedvision · 6 months
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Your family consider you a failure - Wriothesley, Neuvillette
Okay so this is a very self-indulgent fic, basically reader had to drop out of university after they hit a real low with their health. A lot of mentions about being a quitter, and being a potential criminal and/or spoilt brat. It's a happy ending, although this is an angst plot. Wriothesley's one is longer than Neuvillette's...
--
Wriothesley:
When he asked when he would be meeting your parents, you were hesitant to take him. Your relationship with your family was shaky, and it didn't help that you still hadn't been able to 'pick yourself up'. It led to an argument, with Wriothesley talking about how lucky you were for having a family and you lashing out at him for trying to guilt you into taking him along for dinner. Your parents had heard of your relationship, and they were in favour of meeting the man. He was the Administrator, after all.
After some insistence, you finally invite him to meet your family. He fails to hide his excitement, asking what your family likes as he thinks of what teas he could take along as a gift, meanwhile you were preparing yourself for the family ripping your name apart and playing Cupid for another family member who accomplished more than you did.
"Oh, you must be Wriothesley!" Your mother greets your boyfriend, not you, at the door. "Please, come on in! We've been begging for our child to invite you over."
"Oh, I've been looking forward to this as well. It's nice to put a face to your family name."
Oh, our child is known for being a slacker with important things. Enough about them, I'll introduce you to everyone else!" Your mother giggles, Wriothesley just following in confusion at the sentence.
You stand outside for an extra minute, needing a moment to gather yourself. Unfortunately, your least favourite relative comes along.
"Come on, if you aren't careful I'm going to steal your boyfriend. He's a hot piece of action!"
-
Wriothesley didn't speak to you at the dinner table. In fact, he was silent. Staring at the table, he seems out of it.
"Oh, we have to tell you about (cousin)'s achievements. They are so gifted and talented!"
Oh crap, here we go. Your cousin brags about all of their degrees and qualifications, smirking at you whenever you'd make eye contact with them, and trying to impress Wriothesley. You were worried that your boyfriend was thinking about leaving you for one of your family members, especially with the jabs your mother made at the start of the meeting.
"_'s silent...Oh, sorry, I forgot you gave up." Your cousin chuckles. "I mean, failing to complete a degree and hiding behind health? Spoilt brat if you ask me." They continue. "Probably had to commit theft to keep their accommodation, how shameful."
"That's not true!" You plead, noting Wriothesleys shaking. "I've worked towards supporting myself."
"Oh, so you were lying about your health? Disgusting."
You hear a glass shatter in Wriothesleys direction, and upon looking over you gasp in horror. His hand had crushed the glass, now harmed by the glass.
"Is that what you think of people who can't get lots of qualifications? Well, let me tell you something." Wriothesley grumbles, hand still clenching as you try to calm him down. "I don't have degrees, nothing fancy. In fact, I have a criminal record, are you going to tell me I am a failure?"
"Well no, but-"
"In fact, I i think you are a failure of a human being if you are so close minded as to assume there is only one measure of intelligence." Wriothesley stands up, slamming his hands down on the table. You hold his unharmed hand, but this only makes him continue. "I do spoil _, but I do that because I love them. I am proud of my partner for picking themselves up, and I am ashamed they have you as a family."
"Oh? Didn't mean to strike a nerve there. Are your family-"
"Come, my love, we're leaving." Wriothesley tuts, you run to catch up with him. You hear your family call for you, your cousin calling you a gold digger as you keep going.
Upon your return back at the Fortress of Meropede, Wriothesley turns around and holds you close.
"I'm sorry for forcing you,"
You shake your head, crying into his chest as the long wait for the elevator to reach your floor continues. "I should have told you."
"What? That you're human? I'm not perfect either." Wriothesley sighs. Hearing a drip on the floor, you pull away, looking down at his harmed hand.
"Let's get your hand sorted."
---
Neuvillette:
When you proposed to Neuvillette, he requested to ask your parents for approval. He knew that some people would be intimidated by him, and approval from your family would reassure him you wouldn't get affected by this. Figuring it would be a quick visit, you agree.
If only you remembered just how cruel your parents could be.
Your parents tore into you, disrespecting you for needing some time to recover after failing to succeed in your first plan. The implications are that you were a criminal and pointing out the irony of you dating the Ludex, adding in the possibility you gave him a 'bribe' to be innocent.
Neuvillette held your hand, running his thumb over the back of it, and you note the rain has started.
"I apologise, _, it appears I made a mistake in wishing to meet your family." He sighs, your parents furrowing their brows. "I won't request another meeting with your family, given their behaviour towards you. As your fiancé, I cannot accept this slander. I bid thee farewell."
Your boyfriend walks out, you following with a warm smile on your face as you realise you chose the best man you could.
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pit-and-the-pen · 3 days
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But I Have You...
Just a treat for all the angst I've been posting lately! Thank you @daycourtofficial for such a cute idea!
Summary: Date night with Azriel. What could go wrong? Apparently everything...
Warnings: Making out, mentions of food/cooking, allusions to smut, modern-ish AU
Wc: 3.3k
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Date night with Azriel was one of your favorite days of the entire week. Calling it date “night” was an understatement. You and Azriel were normally both so busy with your duties that you tried to make a whole day out of it, or as close as it could be. 
“Go bathe.” You pointed towards the door of the bathroom, brush still in your outstretched hand. 
“Are you trying to tell me I stink?” He quirked an eyebrow at you, stalking closer to you. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you against his chest. 
“Yes. Now go. We’re going to be late for dinner.” You squeal when he begins to tickle your side, holding you against him as you try to squirm out of his hold.
“I yield. Please…Az” You manage to get out between your fit of laughter. He plants a wet kiss on your cheek before turning around and dramatically stomps to the bathroom, making a show of the small action. You laugh as he rolls his eyes as he closes the door, a large smile plastered to his face letting you know he wasn’t really mad or annoyed with you. 
Taking the opportunity to finally get dressed, you all but run to the closet. Edgar to pull out the new dress that you had picked out with MOr last week. It was the exact color of his siphons. You greedily ran your hand over the velvet fabric, already loving the way it felt under your hands. The fabric being one of the very few that didn’t irritate Azriel’s hands over a prolonged time. 
You quickly pull your lounge clothes over your head, kicking them off into some random corner of the room to deal with later. The bag holding the dress is discarded in a similar fashion after being torn open. It was just as beautiful as you remember it being and you can’t wait to get it on your body. Even more excited to see Azriel’s reaction. 
.You are practically skipping over to your underwear drawer, picking out a small lacy set that you bought to go with the dress. It slides over your skin like butter, clinging to your body like a second skin. It stops about mid-thigh. Just short enough to be sexy but not too short that you were scared to bend over, which you would definitely be doing if for nothing more than giving the shadowsinger a peak of what exactly was waiting for him underneath the dress.
Pulling the straps over your shoulders, you only need to zip the dress up. YOu managed to tug it up halfway before the zipper got stuck on the seam at your waist. A couple more tugs and the stupid thing still won’t budge. You know you could just ask Azriel. He would never object to zipping you up but you knew there would be no way you would make it to your reservation if you did so. So you tugged once more, twice more, and then. Riiiipppp. Your jaw goes slack as the zipper finally tugs the rest of the way up, taking the other half of the zipper with it. The thin fabric stuck under the teeth and tore a large hole in the brand-new dress. 
“Fuck!” You shout out once you survey the damage in the mirror. You would not have time to fix this before your reservations. 
“Darling, what’s-” You hear your mate's voice filter into the room before he cuts himself off. You turn to face him and he’s gawking at you, towel slung low around his hips. 
“It ripped. I just got this dress.” You whine. A chuckle leaves him and the sound has you pouting. “I just got this. It was going to be perfect for tonight.”
“You know that you could always…not wear anything.” His eyes are still trailing up and down your figure. 
“Az! I’m serious.” You softly shout at him
“So am I.” He doesn’t hesitate to respond. You blush at his words. “Can we just skip dinner?” 
“No sir. It took us months to get this reservation.”
“Rhys could get us in with a snap of his fingers.”
“But I want to go tonight. I already looked at the menu and picked out what I wanted.”
“Of course you did, lovely.” You stuck your tongue out at him, making him throw his head back in laughter. “Just go pick any of the other hundred dresses you have.” He teases and it’s your turn to stomp out of the room. Rolling your eyes at him, a smile so wide it makes your cheeks hurt. Your finger runs over dress after dress and none of them seem to be right. Already having your mind set on the perfect dress, it’s hard to find one to replace it. Your hands finally brush over one that you had forgotten about. A lighter shade than your previous dress, but it would do.
You pull it off the hanger with more force than necessary and peel the other one off, throwing it across the room with a huff. You pad over to Azriel when you have it pulled onto your shoulders, not willing to risk another zipper fiasco. You don’t even have to ask him before he takes the delicate zipper in his hands and pulls it up smoothly in one motion. He presses a kiss to the dip between your shoulder blades as he slides the zipper up into place. You notice his eyes dipping down in the mirror. You’re about to tease him for his wandering gaze when he clears his throat. 
“I think there might be…I don’t even know what that is. Wine?” 
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” YOu shout, turning around trying to see your backside in the mirror and sure enough. There is a random stain right at the small of your back. And then you remember. You wore this dress the last time you went to Rita’s with Mor and you had bumped into someone, someone that was holding a nearly full drink that splashed onto your back. 
“Whatever. What-fucking-ever. We’re going to be late and this was the only dress I liked.” YOu take a deep breath through your nose. “Just stand behind me so no one sees it.” He nods before his eyes drift lower once again, this time pausing when you know he isn’t looking at the stain anymore. 
“Twist my arm, why don’t you?” He grumbled to himself which has you spinning around to wrap your arms around his waist.
“What would I ever do without you, Azzy.”
“Walk around with a stain on your butt.”
“Prick. I was trying to be cute.” You feign insult. He only leans down and gives you a small peck on the lips. 
“Let's go then.” He gives your ass a soft slap for emphasis. You scramble to grab your purse from the edge of the bed and catch up with him. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The walk to the restaurant wasn’t bad at all. It was only a few blocks away from the apartment the two of you shared. A pleasant walk with even sidewalks that made it easy for your heeled feet to walk. 
The dull noise of the restaurant filled your ears the moment the door closed behind you. The decoration was very modern but still seemed very homey. Like it had been pulled directly from a cooking show set. Blue and white gingham tablecloths mixed with gold brushed metals. It was one of the newest, and if the wait you had for the reservation was any sign, most popular restaurants in the area. The hostess asks for your name and you give it to her. She scrolls through the tablet in front of her, eyebrows furrowing slightly. She turns to a large book by her side and flips to a page, finger scanning down the lines of names. 
“Would it be under a different name?” She looks up and asks you. 
“It could be under Azriel.” You were one hundred percent you had made the reservation under your name but found yourself giving his name either way. The line in her eyebrow deepens and your heart sinks as she turns back to you.
“It looks like we don;t have anything under that name. And we’re fully booked tonight so we aren’t talking walk-ins.”
“No, I called last month. I know I made a reservation. It wouldn’t be anywhere else?” You keep your voice low, not wanting to let your disappointment make you yell at the poor girl at the host stand. 
“I’m sorry, it’s not in our system and like I said, we’re completely full tonight. Do you want me to make you a reservation for another night?” You shook your head. Too distraught to think about another night. 
“It’s fine. Thank you.” Azriel said, noticing the way tears were starting to swim in your eyes. He took your hand lightly and pulled you out of the restaurant. He wrapped his arms around you and you buried your head into his chest. 
“I’m sorry. I know it’s silly to be getting upset over this but I’m just really…I don’t even know.”
“You’re allowed to be disappointed baby. You’ve been talking all week about this.” He pulled your face up with one of his fingers. “How about we go to that pizza place you really like?” You perked up a little at the thought making Azriel smile at your mood change. “There she is.” He kissed your cheek. “Lets go.” He started walking you in the direction of the small pizza shop. As upset as you might be, you did love this spot. One of the few places that didn’t make their sauce too acidic or too sweet. Perfect crust to pizza ratio. It was always your fall back place and it was a great suggestion from your boyfriend. 
You walked the few blocks to the shop and stood outside the door. One look at the sign made your heart sink all over again. Closed for repairs. Azriel gave your hand a squeeze. 
“Azzzzzz.” You whined, fighting the urge to stomp your foot like a toddler. 
“It’s okay baby. We can do something else.” He pulled you into his arms again, once again calming you down. 
“Can we make pizza at home?”
“Of  course we can.” He smiled down at you. Then you remembered. 
“Shit. Elain used the rest of our flour for some cookies last week.” 
“Then we’ll go to the store.”
“Az we can’t go to the store dressed like this.” You gestured to your dress and his crisp black dress shirt and matching pants. 
“Why not?”
“Because we’ll look crazy.”
“Do you want pizza?”
“Yes.”
“Then we need to go to the store. Come on.” He started pulling you in the direction of a small corner store at the other end of the square. 
You felt so silly, small shopping basket in hand, you in your tight dress and heels and Azriel in his dress clothes. But luckily, no one paid you any attention. Too focused on their own shopping to even notice you. Picking up the bag of flour, you also grabbed some cheese, and some fresh basil to put on top. Azriel led you over to the check out but not before grabbing a bottle of wine as you passed by the section. The cashier rang you out quickly and smiled at the two of you as you walked out of the store. Not once commenting or even raising an eyebrow at your attire, much to your pleasure. 
Your feet were screaming at you by the time you got to the door of your apartment.  Not expecting to walk as much as you did. Azriel, seeing the discomfort in your face, leaned down to undo the straps off your heels. He gave a small tap to your ankle to let you know that you could step out of them before he repeated the motion to your other foot. A sigh left your lips as your feet touched the ground, screaming in relief. Azriel gave you a small kiss on your knee before standing back up. 
“Thank you.” You told him as he grabbed the bag from your arms and walked into the kitchen.
“I should change if we’re going to be making dough.” You said as you followed him into the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around your waist. 
“Or you could keep it on and let me peel you out of it later?” He suggested, furthering his words by kissing along your jaw. You fought the urge to melt against his hold. 
“You’ve convinced me. I’ll keep it on.”
“Good girl.” He spoke before giving your ass a light slap as he released you. You heated up from head to toe at his words. You shook your head as he started to unpack the groceries, trying to clear your head of the less than innocent thoughts rushing through you. So you started to pull out the other necessary ingredients and placed them on the counter next to Azriel. He opened the flour and started to pour it into the bowl you pulled out from the cabinet. He gives you a quick kiss on the forehead as he takes the olive oil from your hands and starts working on the dough. It was soe recipe he knew that made quick, non-proofing, dough. Something he learned from Rhys’ mother he had told you one time. In no time the dough was made and he started rolling it out. You peeked over his shoulder and had to bite back a laugh when you saw the speckling of flour on his cheek. He looked over at you with a raised eyebrow.
“You’ve got something…” You reached out your hand to swipe the streak away. “Right there.” You giggled at his annoyed expression.
“You mean right,” He dipped his hand into some of the flour that had spilled onto the counter and flicked it towards your hair. “There?” You squealed as you realized what he was doing, moving just too late to avoid the flour from getting into your hair. 
“Az!” You said in between your laughing. “You got my hair dirty.” You gave him a dramatic pout, looking up at him which in turn made him start laughing. 
“Oh no, guess I’ll just have to wash it out later.” He nudged you with his shoulder which only made you roll your eyes, a smile plastered onto your face. 
“I guess….” 
“What do you want on your pizza?” He quickly changed the topic. 
“Just cheese please.” You smiled up at him and he nodded. He quickly spread some of the jarred sauce on with the back of a spoon and sprinkled on a handful, or three, of the shredded cheese you bought at the store. You smiled at the heap of cheese on your pizza, just the way you liked it. None of the sauce was visible under the coating and he smiled at you as you helped him slide in onto the pan. He quickly did the same to his own, adding a few slices of the tomato and a handful of basil on top. 
With the pizza’s in the oven it would only be a few minutes until they were ready, just enough to let the cheese melt. 
Azriel leaned against the counter, already holding two wine glasses in his hand. YOu walked over and grabbed them from his hand, placing a quick kiss to his lips and putting them down on the counter. He leaned down and grabbed your face between his hands, pulling your lips back to his. You let yourself sink into the kiss. The first real kiss you two shared all night. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip and you whined against him. He chuckled deeply, the sound reverberating through you and heating your blood instantly. You whined again and you felt Azriel backing you up into the counter across the kitchen. His hands snaked down to your waist and tapped, silently asking you to jump onto the countertop. You obliged and he helped hoist you up so your lips didn't leave his. Your hands snaked into his dark locks, pulling his face even closer to yours. His hands started wandering down your hips, grabbing at the fat of your hips, pulling you somehow closer to him. Your mouth parted in a moan at the tight grip and you used that as an opportunity to slide his tongue against yours. You bit down lightly, pulling away from the kiss. Both of your were panting but he just trailed kisses down your neck, down to the neckline of your dress. He had just snuck a hand up to pull down the fabric when you noticed a burning smell in the air. Shit. You pushed him away, already hoping off the counter. He looked at you, confused at your sudden shift. Then his eyes widened as he remembered the pizza you had both seemingly forgotten about. You quickly grabbed one of the over mitts sitting on the counter and pulled the pizza’s out. If you could even call the nearly black circles on the pan you were pathetically holding out in front of you. 
You really couldn’t find it in yourself to be disappointed. Not when you could still feel Azriel’s lips ghosting along your skin. You pushed the contents of the pan into the garbage can and looked up at Azriel. Both of you immediately bursted out laughing. He walked over to you and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 
“I’m sorry baby.”
“I’m not.” You winked at him. 
“Well what are we going to do for dinner now.”
“There's ice cream in the freezer?”  You shrugged. Suddenly not in the mood for cooking at all. You bit your lip as you looked at him and he laughed in response. 
“Okay. Ice cream for dinner it is.” 
So the two of you, still in your clothes from the failed dinner reservations, curled up on the couch. Each holding a pint of ice cream and the now full wine glasses on the table in front of you. Azriel had thrown a blanket over the two of you and put on some cheesy movie that neither of you were paying attention to. 
“I’m sorry tonight was such a disaster” You said to him, mouth still half full of ice cream. He shook his head, leaning his face closer to yours until your foreheads were touching.
“I got to be with you, what more can I ask for?” 
The two of you nearly finished the bottle of wine, Azriel had already placed the nearly empty ice cream containers back into the freezer. When he returned to the couch he pulled you against his chest, hand swirling random patterns onto your back. You felt your eyes getting very heavy as you tried your best to focus on the movie in front of you but the wine was lulling you to sleep. It felt like your eyes had closed for only a second before Azriel was shaking you awake. 
“Hi sleepyhead.” He mumbled into your hair.
“I was not asleep for that long.”
“Long enough to drool on me.” You quickly shot up, hand going to wipe away any wetness that might have split from your mouth. Your hand was dry. You stuck your tongue out at him as he gave you a wicked smile. He pulled you back down to his chest, twisting you so you were now straddling him. 
“I think I can find a perfect way to wake you darling.” And that was all you needed to hear before you pressed your lips against his. Very much awake.
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