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#he's just so effortlessly hot and spicy
iconicbuck · 1 year
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Hotness overfuckingload!
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gamerwoman3d · 6 months
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What if he's scared to do it cold because...
[Explicit/spicy below the cut 🔞]
He feels like it's on fire as it's literally melting inside you
It's harder and smoother than he could ever be au naturale, and he loves how it glides so effortlessly into you
If he looks down, when it's wet, slick, and glossy, it's clear enough that he can see through it. He'll stare at it, watch how you open up around it. Seeing himself split you open like that, watching your pink insides clench and suck against it, flesh pressed on it like starfish on glass, makes his heart flutter, threatens to draw the L word out of him, makes him choke and gurgle and sputter as he desperately tries to catch and hold that word in his throat.
When you shivver and shudder and scream under him it spurs him on.
The way you cling to him for heat is adorable and he wants to keep you like that forever.
It's addictive and you ironically burn so many calories when he fucks cold. Your internal equilibrium gets a workout, every muscle contracting with violent shivvers to raise your temperature back to where it should be. 30 minutes of it burns 2-4000 calories and puts you at medical risks. But the post-coital sleep is deep, and the hunger when you awaken feels insatiable.
It won't crack inside you: it's magic has it continually reforming. But when you do squeeze hard enough to crackle it, to send tiny microfractures into the core of it, it stings like pins and needles and tingles like nerve endings just waking up after your toes fell asleep in the snow. It won't injure him, just leaves him feeling vulnerable and ironically wanting more. It's one of the only things anyone can do to him that can make him howl aloud.
[Caution: Female anatomy past this point.]
If he stops, if he switches from icy to fleshy, it usually makes him cum on the spot: His cock went from feeling on fire inside you, where you melted him with your heat, to feeling frigid and clammy as his hot fleshy cock plunges into your ice-numbed pussy. So cold around him, threatening to shrink and shrivel him up inside you, you took his icy cock in your pussy for so long that now he feels freezing within you. He can't last, knowing how his icy cock changed you on the inside.
When he spills hot, he feels that heat all over his clammy cockhead, grateful for his own warmth against the shaft, temporarily creating a buffer of warmth between his hot cock and your chilled walls. You feel the warmth too, feel your own cold pussy sucking up the heat. He's speechless when he cums like this; he feels the heat leaving, feels the warmth of his load get quickly absorbed by your inner walls. The spurt of warmth is very temporary, leaves him spent with his cock buried inside a clammy, half-chilled pussy.
He's going to collapse. There's a cocktail of hormones raging inside him, spurring him to cling to you for your warmth, to declare his love, to wife you, and never let go.
He doesn't do it cold for just anyone. He doesn't do it cold if you plead or beg. He does it cold only after he's certain already that he loves you; because if he isn't, he will be by the time he's through.
He knows how it affects him to do it cold. It makes him stupid, fuckdrunk, vulnerable, needy and incompetent. His secret is he's terrified to do it cold. If his iced cockhead touches you, it's too late - by the time he lets that happen, he's in love, and already more terrified of losing you than he is of losing himself.
Scared Stiff
[...The end for now?]
[Need more MK1 smut? Check the pin 📌]
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ashisgreedy · 11 months
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Garreth Weasley x F!MC
Professor Garreth AU
“A Potion Of You.” 
Tags: Spicy 18+ | First Date | Making out | Heavy petting | Fingering | F!Orgasm | Hickies | All chars are aged up 21+ish. WC: 7,100
-18 Minors, do not interact with my blog/content.
A|N: In chapter 1, Garreth is introduced as a professor at Hogwarts after not seeing the MC for many years. He proceeds to get outed as having a crush on her when they were in school and his feelings are reciprocated by the MC. He asks her out on a date. Chapter 2 is their date!
| Ch. 1 |
Chapter 2 
Entering the castle after all of these years was a shock of nostalgia. The corridors all seemed so familiar yet she’s been gone so long, she knew she couldn't have made her way around by memory anymore.  She knocked lightly on the solid wooden door of Garreth’s classroom. She was unsure if it was the correct room but the surrounding stack of caldrons made her more confident she was in the right place.
She didn't have to wait long before the door swung open to the Potions Classroom, Garreth greeting her with a large smile. Seeing him was also a mix of nostalgia as well, laced with a hint of unfamiliarity. There was a time, long ago, when she knew every single thing about him. 
“Hey! Come on in.” He welcomed her warmly. Garreth’s hair was styled like it always had been. His curl pattern and the way his hair grew must not have been open to many different types of styling. 
“Hello, good evening.” She greeted him sweetly. 
Her day had seemed to drag by so slowly making her nerves stand on end. It was almost surreal being here with him now in his classroom, finally. She wondered all day what the date would be like, what he would be like. Would they still banter like they used to? Could being romantically entangled complicate things in a way neither of them could have imagined? She hoped things would go smoothly at least. As teens, they always clicked together effortlessly. Hopefully, not much has changed despite the years of maturity between them. 
He was dressed a bit nicer than the night before at the bar. He was wearing a maroon vest with gold buttons and trim. His top was a light cream and his slacks were a dark shade of charcoal grey. He looked great and so put together. He never lacked in the fashion department when they were teens but it was nice to see him trying a bit more for her, for their date. She shook her head internally at the thought, still in disbelief that she was on a date with the guy she had the biggest and longest-running crush on in history. 
“I’m happy to see you again.” He said, giving her a quick look over. “You look amazing.” He blew out air from his lungs in a rush and rubbed the back of his head. “I mean to say, you look very beautiful.” 
Her stomach flopped at his compliment. “Thank you.” She took a moment to rake her eyes over him. “You’re not so bad yourself.” She shot him a playful smile. That was an understatement. He looked downright hot. This man had only gotten better with age. He was filled out, broader, and his legs were a good deal longer. His arms were way more muscular than she had ever seen them. She wondered if he worked out or if the simple task of carrying heavy objects around his classroom got him so into shape. She imagined he may carry many heavy stacked cauldrons and crates of supplies to and fro, arms flexing as he did. 
“Why, thank you.” He beamed. “I just have to grab my keys and we can be off!” His energy was still very much the same albeit a bit more toned down. Garreth still looked like he’d be up for any spontaneous adventure. His eyes glittered in the room light before he tore his gaze away to grab his set of keys. 
She had missed those deep emerald eyes of his that used to be such a comfort to see on even the most stressful of days. She missed his red fluffy hair that she used to throw tiny bits of balled-up paper in that he, of course, never realized it was her doing. (She should confess that to him soon…)  Hell, she missed him and his antics and his jokes and his laugh. They were always chatting and planning something back in school. Their conversation always flowed like water down a stream, it was as easy as breathing. She wondered how their adult conversations would go.
They both had nervous jitters that bounced around the room. It was a strange combination of feeling the familiarity of an old friend while also being somewhat strangers. It didn’t help her nerves being so open about being attracted to said friend. And, of course, going on a date. A date with many possible implications that she refused to allow herself to think about all day. She blushed and made her way back out the door from where she had just come. 
What if it did work out? What then? One of them would have to leave the adult life they built. One of them being her, of course, she would never ask Garreth to leave his job as a professor here at Hogwarts. It would make her sick to her stomach to even ask him to quit so he could come live with her in her hamlet many hours away doing menial tasks to stay afloat.  She supposed she wouldn’t mind leaving her life behind, but she was getting ahead of herself. The date hadn’t even started yet. She would just have to go with the flow and have fun with it. 
“I brought my appetite like you asked.” She assured him. Garreth sent her an owl early that morning with a bit of banter and a hint to wear warm clothes for their date. It also told her to stop snacking at 4 to be hungry enough for what he had planned. She read the letter six or seven times just to study his neat handwriting. The way he wrote her name with an extra flourish made her heart swell. 
“Fantastic!” He closed the door, locking it with one of the larger keys on the ring. “I don’t want to spoil too much of the surprise, but we will definitely have lots of food options tonight.” 
“What’s such a surprise about eating dinner together?” 
Garreth sent her a charming smile and offered her his arm. She took it, linking her arm in his as they walked down the long corridor.
“You will see soon enough.” 
She wondered if his cheeks were going to be sore from smiling so much. She touched her own face realizing she may be facing the same issue later. They walked arm in arm, their steps, and easy chatter filling the halls. 
Gareth took her to a small balcony high in the Hogwarts castle. It looked so familiar to her but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. But, oh wow, was it an incredible view. It was akin to something she would only be able to see flying on her broom. Rolling hills in the distance, glowing just a bit with the last remaining rays of the setting sun. The black lake below looked massive from where they stood. Its waters were calm and it reflected the hills behind it like a mirror.
A small circular table sat in the middle of the balcony. A white tablecloth draped to the ground and the centerpiece was decorated with a red flower and two floating candles. Two empty plates were set out across from each other, chairs angled slightly toward the view. 
“Wow, it’s lovely.” She took in the romantic scene. Her heart squeezed at the effort he’d put in. She stepped toward the table with a huge grin. 
Garreth laughed. “I may have gotten some advice on what kind of date to take you on. I told my colleagues I couldn’t grab drinks with them because I had a special date.”  He enunciated the T in ‘date’ and winked. He pulled out the chair for her and waited for her to sit. 
“Do you grab drinks with your fellow professors often?” She unfolded the napkin on the table and placed it on her lap. Garreth took his seat across from her and relaxed back into the chair. He eyed the scenery then slid his gaze back to her.  
“Sometimes. I guess it's been more often lately since the cool weather rolled in.” He rubbed his hands together and searched the table for something. “I think a lot of people get lonely this time of year.” 
“Did they give you any good advice for our first date?” She teased. 
The floating candles were enchanted, giving off a whole fireplace's worth of warmth. It made it bearable to stay outdoors in the winter, but she was still grateful for the long coat she wore that covered her skirt. Garreth found what he was looking for, a tiny brass bell. He rang it and sat it off to the side. 
“A bit. Only one bit of advice was useful though.” He gestured at the view. “The divination professor told me to pick a spot that held meaning for both of us. I don’t think I’ve been to this side of the castle in a while. I wouldn’t have thought about it again if she hadn’t said anything.” 
“Special meaning?” Her brows knitted together. She searched her mind for answers but came up blank. This scenery would be hard to forget, but it was possible it was already culled from her mind after all these years.
Garreth nodded, looking around the balcony. “This is where we used to come to sneak out to during 6th and 7th year when I made those series of… concoctions. The ones that I hoped would get us either drunk or experience a unique buzz.” 
It all rushed back to her in an instant. She recalled Garreth pulling out vile after vile of different potions he’d made and dropped them all on the balcony for them to sift through. They’d drink a vile then eat some candy they’d gotten from Hogsmeade and just talk and laugh. Sometimes they’d play games, most of which Garreth had come up with on the spot. Some, they would modify to turn them into drinking games. She didn’t recall ever taking in the view like she was now. It must have paled in comparison to the company she shared. 
“Damn,” She began. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize this place! Remember the time you drank two potions back to back and your skin ended up turning purple?” She began to laugh and Garreth feigned annoyance. 
“Yes well, I remember when you used to force me to drink all the newest concoctions because you were too scared to be my guinea pig. That’s why my face turned purple! I could never say no to you.” He shook his head with a grin. “I guess you know why now.” He shot her a playful wink.
“What would you rather have had me do? I couldn’t walk around school with purple skin.” 
“It’s not like I wanted all those strange stares either.” He crossed his arms, a huge smile across his face.” 
“Well, you are the one that made them. It’s only fair that you are the one that tested them too.” 
“I was just happy to be hanging out with you. It was always worth it to have double vision for a few hours or even purple skin.” 
They smiled at one another for a long moment. Now that the conversation easily flowed, she felt more comfortable in his presence. 
“Oh, and you mentioned you spoke with the divination professor? Did she predict our date would go well?” She smirked, raising a questioning brow. 
Garreth laughed then shook his head. “I didn’t ask.” 
“Bullshit.” 
“Okay fine! I asked!” He put his hands up in defense, a huge smile still on his face. “ But she wouldn't tell me. She just said ‘Have fun.’ and shut the door on my face.” 
“You poor thing.”
“Yes, feel sorry for me.” He teased.
She admonished him and rolled her eyes. It was fun, how easily she could flirt with him. It was welcoming, almost like no time had passed. 
A bell chimed sounding the same as the one Garreth had rang moments ago. 
“Lean back.” He directed, leaning back in his own chair.
She removed her arms from the table and relaxed back. Out of thin air, food appeared on the plate in front of her. Several sides populated the outskirts of the plate while the middled filled an entre. The huge mug to her right began to fill to the brim with a fizzing liquid.
“This looks absolutely delicious.” She breathed in the new smells that permeated the balcony. The effervescent drink bubbled as she took a small sip. The cider warmed her from the inside. 
Garreth was quiet for a long moment before he spoke. “I’m glad you like it. Just so you know, we can ring this bell and more food will be brought out. Each time we ring it, a new dish will be served.”
“Is this with the help of the kitchen elves?”
“Yes, the concept is similar to how they fill the dining hall for every meal. Pretty neat, huh?”
“Very neat!” She looked up and met Garreth’s gaze. “Garreth, I really do like this.” She spoke quietly. Understanding washed over his features. He kept eye contact with her, appreciating the moment. “I like everything about this night. The food is perfect, the view is incredible, and having dinner on this balcony was a marvelous idea.” Garreth’s smile grew as she spoke. “But most of all, I like the company.” 
There it was, a red blush, spreading across Garreth’s face. “I’ve never been happier.” He sounded as if he were in a dream state.
“Oh hush,” She giggled. “Liar. I was there when you managed to make the perfect batch of fizzing whiz beer that didn’t blow up, and it actually tasted drinkable.” 
“That WAS incredible!” He laughed, reminiscing. “I have since refined that recipe, I’ll have you know. You can actually drink a whole mug of it and not get sick!” 
“Wonderful! I’d love to try some.” 
“Well… okay maybe it still makes one a bit sick on occasion…” He backpedaled. “It’s a bit unpredictable. But, I have another better recipe I’ve been working on that you can try!” 
“I may take you up on that offer.” Do you live here,” She gestured to the castle. “in the faculty tower?” She recalled that most, if not all of the professors lived in the tower. 
“Uh, I don’t. I do have a room to stay in if I need it. But, I actually live in a nearby Hamlet. It has a yard where I can grow some ingredients and it’s near some woods where I can forage.” Garreth took a drink from his cup. 
“Oh? I didn’t think they would allow you to live off the property if you were a professor.” She honestly hadn’t put much thought into it as a child. Most of the time it felt like the professors just slept in their classroom offices. 
“There’s a floo flame two houses down from me. And, there's a floo flame right outside of my classroom. I can arguably make it to my classroom faster than others that live within the castle itself.” He smiled like he’d tested that theory already. 
The conversation flowed easily as they ate their meal. The two candles floating above the table kept the balcony romantically lit and very warm. The gentle yellow flame made Garreth’s hair appear more strawberry blond than his usual firebolt strands.
She didn’t want this night to end. She felt annoyed that she had to leave early the next morning. When she initially visited, she hadn’t planned on even staying the one night let alone two. She didn’t bring more than just the one spare set of clothing nor did she bring enough galleons to pay for yet another room at a nearby stay. Sadness crept into her mind, but she pushed it away and focused on enjoying the moment. 
They continued their banter as the dinner progressed. They both took turns bringing up memories of their time at school and sharing knowledge about what their old friends were up to now. 
Later, she found her arm linked with Garreth’s again as he showed her around his classroom. 
“I’ve made some changes, but mostly kept things the way they were. I don’t like sitting for most of the class. I find that I walk around and answer questions most of the time anyway. So, I got rid of the desk to make room for additional caldrons.” Garreth spoke excitedly. He looked a lot like his enthusiastic younger self now. She loved that he still held onto wonder, like everything was still fresh and new. 
She took in her old classroom, spotting some differences here and there. “I’m impressed by your ingredient shelves. They are much more organized than I remember.” All the shelves were organized by color and size. Most of the jars looked dusted and all their labels were facing outward neatly.  
Garreth rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, you can thank one of my students for that. A first year. She came in the first day and gasped. Said that this was no way to run a classroom. She ended up staying after class several times for a couple of weeks just to reorganize my ingredients. She condensed some and separated others. I haven’t dared to touch them since. I am grateful, but I don’t want to mess up all her hard work. Plus, the other students have been finding things much faster. Whatever she did, it’s a far better system than what I could have come up with.” 
“Sounds like she’d make a good teacher's assistant one day.” They continued their jaunt around the room, eventually making their way back toward the entrance. 
“That would mean she’d have to go into my office. I think she would quit on the spot if she went in there.” Garreth laughed. “Speaking of,” He waved his wand at the lock on the door within the classroom. The lock popped and the door swung open. “This is my office.” He pocketed his wand and lead her in. 
It wasn’t dirty at all. In fact, there was far less dust than what she remembered from it being Professor Sharps's office. It looked more lived-in albeit disorganized. He used almost every surface to house potion bottles, ingredient jars, or bubbling caldrons. 
“I know it looks kind of bad… But, I know where everything is. Or, at least I think I could find what I was looking for pretty quickly.” He glanced around then looked back over at her, eagerly waiting to hear what she thought. 
“It’s very you, Gar.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. Her eyes bounce from one shelf to another. There were several corks on his desk and a slew of blank tags tossed about. She guessed he must have been in the middle of labeling some potions before she got there. 
“Feel free to take a seat if you want.” He squeezed her hand back, grinning like an idiot. “I can make us some tea.” The only seat was at his desk. It felt strange to be seated while he stood so she opted to lean against the desk instead. 
She peaked at the clock ticking away on the wall and sighed. “I think I’ll pass on the tea. It’s getting a bit late.” She had a pang of regret the second she said that. “I-I don’t want the night to end, but I do have to leave a bit early in the morning.” 
Garreth nodded his head. “It’s perfectly alright. I’m glad you said something. I would have kept talking for hours.” His smile looked bittersweet. He ran his hand through his hair and rested his palm on the back of his neck. 
She didn’t want to come outFright and say how she was feeling quite yet. If they did want to see each other again, it wouldn’t be for a while due to their schedules. And, what if long distance wasn’t Garreth’s thing? Or if he agreed to it, how long would they both last? Did he always want her to come to him? Or would he be willing to come to her? He probably couldn’t stay with her for very long anyway, he would always have to come back for his classes. She shook her head out of her thoughts. She was getting ahead of herself.
“I’d love to talk to you for hours.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “If I could.” 
That brightened his smile. “Yeah? And what would you like to talk about with me for hours?” He took a step toward her, brows lifting in question. 
“Anything…” She breathed the word. 
She laughed as nervous and giddy energy bubbled up inside her. But, it was the second step he took that made her stomach break out into flutters. Garreth stood in front of her, gaze falling on hers. He took her hand in his and laced their fingers together. Her heart hammered as she realized just how alone they were. They weren’t kids sneaking around anymore, and no one was looking for them.  
His eyes twinkled as he cupped one side of her face. Their noses touched and he hovered in silent question. She squeezed her hand in his and held her breath when his thumb gently stroked her skin.
Her heart thrummed wildly in her ears while she focused on the two freckles that decorated his top lip. Without further hesitation, she pressed up on her toes and accepted his invitation. His lips were warm against hers and oh, so soft. He kissed her like she was delicate, pressing his lips to hers tenderly. He let out a relieved sigh and planted several soft pecks atop her mouth. 
He slowed his rhythm gradually. When it felt like he was going to conclude the kiss, she slid her palms up his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. Garreth took a sharp inhale and slid his hand to rest on her lower back. He hugged her close, tilting his head more to the right, and slotting their lips together to get a much deeper kiss. 
The sounds of feet shuffling as they scrambled to get that much closer to one another, labored breathing, and lips meeting filled the office. She was caught up in the rhythm of it all. The urgency of the kiss began to reflect how much she deeply yearned for him, all the way to the center of her being. She wanted this. He wanted this. It was clearer than glass to her. They just fit together so perfectly.
Bells chimed in the distance and Garreth tore his lips away. He looked pained to be parted from her. His forehead pressed into hers while taking a deep breath. 
“That’ll be 11:00 PM. I am sorry I kept you out so late.” He pressed a long, hard kiss to her forehead, hands cupping the sides of her face as he did. 
She smiled at the affection and looked up to meet his eyes. “Thank you for tonight.” Her fingers playfully twirled a stray piece of his crimson hair. 
Garreth smiled wide and raced to plant a chassed kiss on her lips. “I should be thanking you. I am so glad you came into town. I’m happy you agreed to go on a date with me.” His thumb swiped over her bottom lip. He marveled at her for a few more moments before stepping away. 
“I…” She paused. “I guess I should be going.” She did tell him earlier that she couldn’t stay out too late. But, this was making her regret that statement. She wanted nothing more than to fold into his arms and stay there all night. 
“May I walk you back to your lodgings for the night?” 
“Of course. I’d love that.” She gave him one last smile and squeezed their clasped hands before breaking away. 
On their way out, Garreth locked his office door with a wave of his wand then took her hand in his. “There’s a floo flame just there,” he pointed across the hall. His warm fingers laced with hers and excitement bubbled up in her chest. They fell into pace with one another with no effort. 
The trip was like a flash. The warm air from the castle was gone and replaced instantly with the night's chilly atmosphere. A gush of icy wind blew past, lifting dried leaves from the cobblestone street. She hugged herself to suppress a shiver.
“It’s that one.” She pointed to the quaint bed and breakfast across the square. 
Garreth squinted in that direction. “I see it! Let’s get inside.” He looked down just as she shivered. “Quickly now!” He said with a smile. 
They bounded for the building in sync, both laughing a bit at the other's competitive nature. They both tried to quickly step in front of one another but Garreth rushed forward at the last minute and opened the door for her. 
“After you.” He gave her a playful wink.
Stagnant warm air greeted them. She rubbed her hands together to create heat. The fireplace in the corner of the room blazed and the scent of freshly brewed tea wafted in the air. 
“Good evening!” The receptionist chimed. She stood from behind the desk, setting her drink down in the process. She smoothed her blazer and looked between the two of them with a welcoming smile. 
“Yes, good evening.” She greeted. 
“Good evening.” Garreth nodded. 
“Do you need to check in?” The receptionist began opening a ledger. 
“No, I’ve got a key already. Thank you.” She wave to the receptionist and guided Garreth down the hall. 
“Not a problem. Please feel free to come to the front desk at any time if you are in need of anything.” The receptionist called after. 
“Will do!” She responded over her shoulder. 
She realized how fast she was rushing to her room and began to stall her steps. The excitement and energy from their playfulness outside had not worn off on her yet. She buzzed with adrenaline and, truthfully, nerves. She wanted to kiss him again. 
“It’s a nice stay.” He broke the silence. 
“Yes, it’s very nice. It was the only open room I could find nearby on such short notice. They were quick to get me a room. A nice couple, the people that run this place.”
They walked a few more steps in silence. “Will you be coming back anytime soon?” Garreth’s voice was full of hope. 
“I might, I mean- Maybe? I have some business back near my home. So, it won't be for another few weeks before I can come back.” 
Garreth’s eyes wandered as he processed her words. “Then, may I come visit you? If you’ll have me of course.”
She stopped walking. “I’d love that.” She pulled the key out of her pocket and read the number on it. 
“Fantastic!” He sighed in relief. His smile reached his eyes and he looked absolutely bursting with happiness. 
She smiled at his expression and turned the corner. Her steps slowed in front of the second door on the left. “Here I am.” 
Garreth nodded and ran his hand through his hair. “I had a lot of fun.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I would love to take you out again, soon. Maybe I can visit you this coming weekend? I teach my last class at noon on Friday, so I will be free all weekend starting then.” 
She leaned against the wall next to her door, picking at a piece of loose thread on her jacket sleeve, and smiled. “That would be fine, as long as you don’t mind going on a couple of errands with me.” 
“I would not mind at all.” He smiled wide. “In fact, that sounds like a lot of fun.” 
She absently pulled at the loose thread, a light blush never leaving her cheeks. Garreth looked over his shoulder down the hall then back at her. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. 
“Could I, er…” He averted his eyes and looked down the hall again, biting his bottom lip.
“What is it?” 
Garreth resolved himself, clearing his throat. He leaned in a bit closer, keeping his voice down. “I want to kiss you… again.” His eyes caught hers. “May I?” 
Her blush spread to her ears. “Yes.” She perked up, ready to press up on her toes at a moment's notice to capture his lips yet again.
“Yes?” Garreth smiled wide.
“I’d like that.” She admitted.
He ran his hand down her arm tentatively. He took her hand again and rubbed a circle on the back of it with his thumb. Garreth was almost a head taller than her now. It was still so strange seeing just how much he’d changed after all these years. She wanted to explore more about him and get to know everything about who he was now. He accommodated their height difference by leaning down. His lips parted ever so slightly as he inched closer to her. She pushed up on her toes to meet him halfway. 
They met in the middle, arms wrapping around one another. They picked up where they left off in his office. She poured every bit of passion she could muster into that kiss hoping to show him just how much the night meant to her, how much he meant to her. Garreth reciprocated her passion like it was a challenge. 
She was lost in the kiss, lost in the fervor, but something prodding her lips brought her back down to reality. She paid attention to their mouths trying to process what it was. Garreth did it again, pressing the tip of his tongue against her closed mouth. She realized he was asking her to part her lips for him. A dizzying rush swept over her, and she relaxed her lips at his request. 
His tongue dipped passed her parted lips in slow sensual motions, gliding over the tip of hers. She hummed at the sensation. Fuck, it felt so good kissing him like this. Her sighs encourage him, and he slipped his tongue in more and more. She pushed against his body eagerly, arms tight against his neck, hands sliding in his silky hair. He pushed back, pressing her body firmly against the wall with his. She could feel just how much this was affecting him as he absently rolled his hips against her.
The soft yearning sounds he started to make were heavenly. He sounded borderline needy and holy hell was it affecting her. Each whimper he stifled went straight down her spine, fueling her burning desire. Weak at the knees, she’d probably slide to the floor if it wasn’t for him holding her up against the wall.
She quickly realized, despite his roaming touches, Garreth’s hands only moved everywhere that was decent, missing all her sensitive places. She peaked her eyes open as they made out, seeing just how lust drunk he was. She noticed the angular cut of his jaw, decorated with hundreds of tiny freckles. His face was beet red and his hair was in shambles. She’d done that to him, she was the one that made him into this mess of a man. 
The realization of the effect she had on him gave her a shot of audacity. When his palm roamed to the small of her back again, she reached back and slid his hand to cup her ass. 
She broke their kiss to speak. “It’s okay, you can touch me.” 
“Yeah?!” Garreth was breathless. His hand was frozen in place. She felt a tremble go through him. 
“Yes… Please. We won’t see each other for a while and…” Was that the best excuse she could come up with? She tried again, the truth this time. “I want you to touch me.” 
He nodded, and his hand squeezed the roundness of her ass. His mouth moved from her lips, to her jaw, and down to her neck. His little nips and kisses made her ache between her thighs. He sucked lightly under her ear, both hands wildly massaging her backside. His tongue swept across her skin sending chilled bumps down her arm. 
Her skirt was riding up with the friction of his enthusiastic movements. He was way more handsy than she expected him to be but welcomed it greedily. The enthusiastic massaging and groping of her ass excited her to no end.  When her skirt rode up too high and his finger touched her bare thigh he stopped. “Is this okay?” His eyes went wide, a pleading look of apology in his gaze.
“Yes!” She didn’t mean to whimper but fucking hell her mind was becoming mush. It was filled with just him, Garreth’s lips, Garreth’s tongue, his hands, his hips, his hard as fuck cock in his pants rubbing against her with every grind of his hips. 
With her permission, he slid both his hands under her skirt, feeling her ass with only the thin barrier of her cotton panties. “Shit,” She panted into his kiss. With his grip manipulating the cloth, moving it around, she could feel just how wet she’d gotten from this interaction. 
Garreth was breathless as they made out. He groaned into her mouth, swiping his tongue as deep as it would go. She matched his energy, and gripped the back of his head, holding him to her lips. Her hands soon began to slide around his hair, touseling his already messy waves. He groaned when her nails gently scraped his scalp. 
Garreth’s hips pushed against her again and she returned the gesture, grinding against him in kind. Her heart was swelling with emotion the longer they kissed. She could have this with him, all the time. She wanted it more than anything. This could be the very adventure she’d been searching for. A life with him, rekindling their childhood flame and making up for lost time for as long as they lived. The butterflies in her stomach doubled.
She pushed his head to the side and began trailing kisses down his neck to his clavicle. She unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and pulled the collar down to reveal more freckled skin. Garreth panted like he’d been chased all the way here, hands still kneading her ass.
She began to kiss his chest as more skin became bare to her. She wanted to leave a kiss for each day they were apart, a kiss for every moment she spent pining after him in school, a kiss for every year that went by where her love for him hadn’t yet faded. 
He slowed his grip and ran his palms up and down her thighs, teasing his finger along her panty line. He was getting bolder and she loved it. She sucked on the patch of skin that would be hidden by his clothes in the daytime. Despite wanting to mark him for all to see, Garreth was a professor now and had a professional life. His racing heart pulsed on her lips as she marked him. She licked and sucked the same spot while he watched, eyes half-lidded. 
“Something to remember you by?” Garreth tried to tease, but it came out as more of a needy sigh. 
“Something like that.” She teased back, breath heady. 
The hickey was smaller than she thought it’d be based on how hard she’d been sucking. She kissed the small mark before letting go of his shirt and hiding it from view.
Garreth’s mouth was on hers in a flash. He left one hand under her skirt while the other slid up her waist. He stopped at her ribs and rested there. 
“You can touch me.” She assured, cupping his face and pulling him into a devious kiss. 
He groaned into the kiss, sliding his hand up slowly to cup her breast. He squeezed her and held his breath. She slid her tongue into his mouth, pushing her chest against his palm. He readjusted his stance to hold both her chest and ass comfortably. 
The squeezing and rubbing sensation was gunning her desire. His hand gripping and sliding along her breast moved the fabric around just right to pleasure the sensitive nipple below. She moaned when he squeezed particularly hard, pressing herself into his arms.  Their muffled sounds of pleasure filled the air as their kisses heated up. Waves of desire and heat radiated between their bodies. 
Garreth gave her ass one last squeeze before daring to press his hand between her thighs. He cupped her pussy and added some pressure. His palm ground into her clit in a circular motion and she cursed. Before she knew it, her hips rocked against his hand fervently. The motion spread her wet desire all over the cloth of the panties soaking through to his skin. 
“Fu-uck” He moaned, grinding his hand against her cunt. “You’re so eager, so perfect,” His voice was a borderline whimper. “...so wet.” he whispered in disbelief. 
“Garreth-” She moaned his name, gripping his shoulders to keep herself upright. 
He kept up his eager pace, grinding his hand in a circular pattern while she rocked her hips. Garreth bit her bottom lip, forcing her mouth open so her moans filled the hall. He then swiped his tongue against hers, kissing and lapping at her mouth in a craze.
She could feel it coming, the release her body was working up to. It lingered on the edge, like a diver working up their courage to take the plunge. Her legs were jelly and her head was swimming. “...Sssso close.” She moaned into his mouth. 
Garreth stopped his ministrations and dipped his hand in the front of her panties and used his fingers to focus pressure on her clit. The feeling of skin-to-skin was blinding. She saw stars at the unbridled sensation. His fingertips were so smooth against her sensitive, throbbing clit. 
She focused on his touch, clenching her eyes shut. Garreth ran his lips along her skin, gently biting the spot below her ear. He squeezed his other hand on her clothed breast, rubbing his thumb along the center. “Holy shit, you’re so beautiful.” He admired. 
“I’m…” She began. The feeling between her legs paused near the peak, holding itself there for an agonizing moment. “I’m going to-” A moan cut her off. The orgasm pulsed inside her, throbbing against Garreth’s circling fingers. 
He sighed, shoulders relaxing, as she trembled in his arms. 
“That’s it, my sweet girl.” Garreth encouraged, never stopping the rhythm of his fingers that got her to her climax. 
She buried her head in his neck, riding out the last remnants of her pleasure. Her breathing soon returned to normal, but her grip on his shirt was just as tight. 
When she settled down, Garreth’s finger left her clit and swiftly slid inside of her. Her post-orgasm wetness allowed him quick and easy access. Her walls trembled against the intrusion, still affected by what he’d done to her, the pleasure he’d given. 
“Oh!” She gasped. Garreth pressed firmly against her wall, sliding in and out slowly. “There… Yes. You’re making me feel so incredible, Garreth.” He was hitting the right. fucking. spot. 
A thought floated into her mind wondering how many women he’d been with to know exactly what to do with her body, but she swatted it away just as quickly. This was about them and them alone.
“Your praises are making me feel invincible.” He nuzzled her face, inviting her to look up at him. “I want more of those sweet little kisses please.” His kind voice was laced with a lingering hint of lust. 
She was in a daze. The world around her was nothing but a dream state. She kissed him again and poured her soul into it. Garreth’s slipped in a second finger, keeping his ministrations shallow, driving her absolutely mad. 
She pleaded into his mouth. “Gar, I need mor-”
“Down the hall and to the left!” The receptionist's voice sliced through their moment. “Have a good stay.” 
“Thank you,” A stranger’s voice echoed. 
Garreth stood up straight and looked at her with wild eyes. “Shit! We're a mess!” He whispered. 
He quickly readjusted her panties and helped smooth down her skirt, shifting it so the zipper was in the back. She began to tame his wild hair with a huge grin. They both giggled as they rushed to help one another become decent again. She didn’t miss the way he wiped his fingers that had just been knuckle-deep inside her on his trousers.  
Just as she fastened the top button of Garreth’s shirt, an older couple came around the corner. She hoped they’d walk past the hallway they were in, but of course, they were booked to sleep in one of the rooms down her hallway. 
She knew they could tell they’d just interrupted something as they glanced them over. Once they assessed the two lovebirds, they looked away silently. Not a word was spoken by anyone as they walked past and entered the room across the hall. 
Garreth flashed her wide eyes and grinned. Once the door was shut, and they were alone again, they both laughed quietly. 
“I am so sorry. I’ve kept you up so much later than you wanted.” He apologized, smoothing down bits of her hair. 
“It's fine,” She smiled up at him, still completely blissed out. She cupped his cheek and rand her thumb along his speckled skin. “I’m definitely not mad.”
He laughed and dropped his head. His cheeks were still stained pink. “Good… good.” He sighed. They melted into a warm hug. “I will let you go now. But-” He spoke quietly. “I can’t wait to see you again already.” 
“Me too.” She squeezed him as their hug lingered. 
When they kissed again neither of them could stop smiling.
“Get some rest. You’ve got an early morning!” He gestured to her door.
“It’s already your fault I’ve lost sleep.” She teased. “Next time…” She bit her lip. “We focus on you…” 
He hugged her again. She couldn’t get enough of his touches. “Don’t worry about me.” He assured with a calm tone. “Now, go to bed young lady. It’s probably past midnight by now.” 
She smiled at him. “Good night, Garreth.” 
“Good night.” 
----------------------------------
Thank you for reading! All my work is tagged as #my writing
Tagging: @ellivenollivander
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bruciemilf · 1 year
Note
honestly the kryptonian daddy au is so cute wholesome and spicy at the same time aahhhhhhh~♡
does Clark (or Kal in this case) in this au growl??? not in the cringey fanfic way but like in this low but steadily increasing in volume, rumbling thing that just spikes DANGER ABORT MISSION FUCKING RUN! down the spine (and does Bruce find it sooooo fucking hot like Mark him down scared AND horny-) does he purr like a fucking loud motor engine with his kids????
also the whole polar bear imagery reminds me of those polar bears fucking drenched in blood so damn red and looking gory after their kills.
so imagine if Bruce finds him like that the first time he sees him. Like all those military bastards trying to kill Kal and (nobody is listening to Kal he needs to find his baby-) Kal is ends up causing.... severe bodily harm. There's blood splashed all over his hair, face and suit and Bruce finds him LIKE THAT and he goes
OH FUCK-
and
Oh fuck~!
At the same time. It's literal torture.
ABSO-MOTHERFUCKING-LUTELY
Look, give me the sunshine krytonians; give me powerful rays of sunshine who stubbornly refuse to forfeit their warmth. Give me kryptonians who refuse to be cold just because the world is.
But also. Give me Kryptonians who are truly unstoppable storms of nature when their babies get taken from them. Not only would Clark growl, he'll snarl and hiss and spit. Baring his fangs because they bit first.
Clark who catches a faint smell of sweet sunshine and tender, burnt metal, and unmissable scent of family on this masked soldier.
Clark who flies like a bullet, a knife in soft meat, through tanks and guns and fire, until he jumps on this man, careful not to obiscerate him.
On his back, Bruce admires, -- observes, -- him, and remembers sunshine doesn't glow. It burns. Those red ruby eyes steam with anger, with rage, with a fatherly desperation Bruce tastes all the time.
He roars at Bruce, so close to his face. There's a purring where fear should be.
He catches on too quickly. Jon tried roaring at him, too, althought he barely managed a faint squeak. "... I have him. And i have you, too. But you need to calm down."
He has no idea if Clark even understands what he's saying. But something in Bruce must convince him, because he's raised effortlessly on his feet. "Baby. Now."
Good lord. That voice.
How's he gonna explain this one to Alfred?
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spicyclover · 1 year
Text
Just one day | Part Two
Summary:  You and Lando are walking in the street of London, and fans come, and everything goes wrong.
Part one | Part two
Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!
Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.
Thank you, and Enjoy! :)
Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover
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He gently pushes you to your room and closes the door by slamming his foot once inside...
He gently pushes you against the door. His kisses become more intense, capturing your lips with fervour. He places his knee between your legs to force you to spread them. Moving his hands from your hips to your thighs, he lifts you effortlessly.
Your hip stuck to his, and you feel the heat rise a notch. You moan while caressing his curls. His tongue comes asking for the entrance of your mouth. A battle begins between the two of you. Your mouths fit perfectly together.
You gently pull his hair away from you. You pass your tongue along his jaw, making him shiver with pleasure. You tickle his earlobe. He is very sensitive in this area, and you barely begin to stimulate him, and he's begging you to continue. His hips are going back and forth and coming faster and faster.
The rubbing of your clothes stimulates your desires to the max. The member of Lando comes several times violently struck against yours.
“Oh, baby! Don’t stop,” he whispers, grabbing your buttocks firmly while you keep placing kisses on his sensitive zone.
You feel that you leave the door, and Lando transports you to the bed. He gently places you there, separating you despite himself. 
"I wouldn’t last long," he said, refusing to let you put your hand in his underwear. "I want to feel my dick deep inside you. »
You growl with discontent but don’t add anything when you feel Lando ripping off your sweatpants and panties. He barely takes the time to lower his pants, and he’s already sinking into you. 
A pleasure sigh escapes from his lips, and you smile when you see his face. You like it when he gets off. His eyes closed, his curls glued to his forehead, and his jaw contracting.
You could get off on it just by looking at it. The slight sound coming out of his mouth his deaf and masculine, a bit animal. He shoves his head in your neck, and you try your best not to make too much noise. 
« Let yourself go, » he gasps. "I want to hear how good I am to you. How much you love what I do to you. I want to hear you moan my name, babe!”
“Lando.” You moan against his ear. 
“Yes, like that!” 
“Lan… Lando. I want you to come into me.” 
“Wh…what?”
“I want you to come into me!” You exclaim, pushing on his ass to keep him inside of you.
This is the first time that you allow yourself such madness and that you allow him this madness too. He had already asked you about it, but you had always refused out of fear. You don’t know. However, today, you want it to permeate you.
In Lando’s brain, the information flares up to a thousand an hour and his excitement reaches an inevitable climax. He drops a moan, and a hot stream flows from him into you. It’s a strange feeling. You’ve always had safe sex before Lando, and even when he’s not protected, he’s always come out. 
It’s a new feeling, an emotion, that awakens a desire in you. It’s another desire, and you want more.
His head in your neck, you slowly catch your breath. 
“Sorry, I have….”
“I want us to try.” 
This is the first time you’ve exchanged those words with him, and you’ve known that for quite some time. You told your family and friends several times, but you never said to him that you were ready to start a family with him. 
He looks at you with big eyes and a blissful smile.
"I love you! I love you! I love you so much," he said, burning your lips with every word. 
You stay several minutes like that. He is still in you, in his arms, and you are stroking his hair and him whispering that he loves you madly.
He withdraws and watches his sperm flow out of you. Without thinking twice, he plunges his head between your legs. He licks his seed and yours, and he tastes your mixture. 
You sigh with ecstasy when you feel his tongue entering your intimacy. He tickles your clitoris with his thumb, and your sighs become increasingly lascivious.
Your pelvis moves in rhythm with its caresses, and you cling to the sheet. Your teeth violently bite your lips, feeling the orgasm arrive. 
Lando knows you’re close, so he accentuates his movements by pushing two fingers that stimulate your G-spot while his tongue has replaced his thumb at the suction of your button.
“LANDOOO!” You scream, starting to tremble violently under the effect of orgasm. 
A wave of pleasure takes hold of you, and you become nothing but moaning and grunting.
You take time to recover from your orgasm. Lando places sweet kisses on your neck, making you feel the love on your special day. 
“I know, I haven’t been the best boyfriend. But I really, really want us to work out. I couldn’t be more grateful to have you in my life.” He says while taking your chin up to him. “You make me the happiest man in all the world, and you know that?”
“Real?” 
“I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to fill you up so you can be pregnant. I want you to be the mother of my children. I want you to be my wife,” he admits waiting for your answer. 
“Are you asking me to marry you?” 
“Maybe...” 
“I’ll say yes if you ask me, Lando. I want you in my life even when you are a crapy boyfriend.”
“So it’s a yes?” 
“Ask me properly, and I’ll think about it,” you said playfully. “Not tonight, Lando. After what happened today, you still have to make it up to me.” 
“Am sorry about that, babe. I assure you I’ll protect you like a rocket next time.” His hands stroke your cheeks. “But right now, I just want to fill you up again, and again, and again...” 
He kisses your breast, leaving marks on his path and down to your pussy again.
To be continued... 
314 notes · View notes
Text
poly hcs ; capsaicin, kougin-amann, prune juice
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requested by ; anonymous (03/05/23)
fandom(s) ; cookie run
fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | epic | super-epic
character(s) ; capsaicin cookie, kougin-amann cookie, prune juice cookie
outline ; “Hii im not sure if you take requests with more than two characters but if you do could you whip up some poly headcanons with Capsaicin, Prune Juice, and Kouign Amann??
x reader obviously ahaha, take care and dont overwork yourself!”
warning(s) ; none, just fluff!
this relationship is pure chaos at its finest because as much as they all love each other and you, they’re still on opposing teams and all very competitive at heart
and this bleeds into every aspect of your relationship
like, for example, you guys have a rotating chore roster that makes sure that everyone gets a chance to cook
and when it’s each of their turns, they’ll go out of their way to make the most delicious, grand meal they can — to show that they’re the best provider of the three
they all tend to brag about their respective schools and will get into debates about which school is best (they never agree)
whenever tcc season comes around you can guarantee that they’re dragging you there to support their schools’ new competitors — they get really riled up because this was where you all met, and they’re really big on the competition culture
prune juice cookie is the partner you go to if you want a quiet night in spent with a good book, a hot drink and plenty of fluffy things to keep you warm
that mini relationship is defined by rainy days, deep conversations, fluffy socks and studying together
capsaicin cookie is the partner you go to if you want to get riled up with lots of movement, lots of shouting and heaps of fun — including metal music and mini moshes
that mini relationship is defined by wonderful chaos, shameless affection and going out to concerts to headbang until your necks hurt and scream until you can’t speak anymore
kougin-amann cookie is the partner you go to if you want to spend an afternoon baking and laughing and dancing barefoot on the kitchen floor
that mini relationship is defined by traditionally sappy gestures, casual effortless affection, matching clothes and drawing hearts on each others’ cheeks with flour
kougin-amann is the best baker of the three and prefers to take on dessert duty — which all of you are happy to let happen
she loves trying out new recipes but will try making them no less than five times before even considering serving them (capsaicin is her taste tester)
prune juice prefers to handle hearty meals — things that fill you up after one serving and that can stay good to eat for a week
this usually means that he’ll be spending the entire day prepping everything by hand
capsaicin loves spice and thus tends to make meals that will leave you reaching for a cup of milk whilst he wolfs it down effortlessly
granted he can, and does, make meals that aren’t quite as catastrophically spicy as he wants — seasoning his portions separately — but he does make some incredibly flavourful dishes anyway so nobody is complaining about him being in the kitchen
capsaicin calls you all ‘babe’ or ‘baby’ — or, occasionally, ‘hotties’
kougin-amann calls you ‘my love’, prune juice ‘darling’ and capsaicin ‘sweetheart’
prune juice just calls you all by your names
temperature regulation in your house is a nightmare because prune juice prefers the cold and capsaicin loves it hot — so the boys end up sleeping in separate rooms and you and k-g will rotate between them
you have a wonderful garden where you grow your own herbs and spices for cooking, which p-j meticulously researches and cares for using his potions and magical expertise
kougin-amann has styled all of your hair at least once — you have a picture of the final (very pink) result and it sits proudly on your fireplace
capsaicin prefers metal music, kougin-amann loves classical, and prune juice loves opera — so they usually debate who gets to control the music on road trips
movie nights are a staple in your home and they always end up with popcorn everywhere and you sandwiched between two of your partners (especially if you choose a horror film)
capsaicin sleeps on his back and will basically hold you all hostage against him until he wakes up
prune juice is a more independent sleeper and will just barely spoon whoever is closest to him in bed
kougin-amann is a clingy sleeper and shockingly strong so she’ll pretty much koala against whoever she’s in bed with
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vodika-vibes · 8 months
Text
Perfection
Summary: Jesse helps you understand that you're perfect to him.
Pairing: ARC Trooper Jesse x Reader
Word Count: 1422
Warnings: smutty. Or smutty adjacent? Let's just go with smutty.
Songs: None
A/N: I haven't written Jesse in a hot minute, so today you get Jesse! Rather than a character from my list. I don't know what came over me. Why does everything I write with Jesse come out Spicy? The world may never know.
Divider by saradika
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“You’re staring, Jesse.”
“I can’t help it, babe.” Jesse replies from where he’s lounging on the couch, his golden brown eyes lingering on you as you move around the living room. “You’re gorgeous.”
You glance at him over your shoulder, “You are biased, love.”
Jesse tilts his head, his gaze drifting down to your hips, and then he slowly drags his gaze back up to meet your eyes, “Babe, I once got into a fistfight with one of my brothers because of how he was staring at you.”
You let out a laugh, “I’m sure he wasn’t staring at me, Jess.”
“Oh, he was.” Jesse replies, “Which is fair, you’re stunning, but he was staring in a disrespectful manner.”
“Is there a way to stare respectfully?” You ask as you turn your attention back to the shelf you are trying to organize.
“I stare respectfully.” He says promptly, a grin in his voice.
“Jesse, you’ve been staring at my ass for the last hour.” You reply with a laugh.
“I’ve been staring respectfully.”
You shake your head and absently pull a book off the shelf and flip through it, “Honestly, I’m not sure why you stare. I’m not exactly stare-worthy.” 
There’s silence for a moment, and then a deep sigh, “Cyare-”
You glance at Jesse, an apologetic twist to your mouth, “Sorry.”
He stands and walks over to you, lightly taking the book from your hands and placing it back on the shelf, and then he sets his hands on your hips and turns you so you’re facing him, “Someday, cyare, you’re going to believe me when I compliment you.”
“I don’t know, I’m apparently very stubborn.”
“Not stubborn.” Jesse counters, “You’re willful. There’s a difference.”
“Those are synonyms, Jesse.”
“Different connotations,” He replies, “Stubborn implies that you can’t be reasoned with. Willful implies that you know your own mind.” He cups your cheeks and tilts your head back slightly, “And I love you just as you are.”
You close your eyes and lean into his touch, taking a moment to turn your head to kiss the palm of his hand, “I love you too,” You murmur against the skin of his palm.
His hands slowly, gently, slide down your neck, and then to your shoulders. “You’re so beautiful,” Jesse murmurs, as one of his hands slides to the back of your neck and the other ghosts down your side, to your hip, to grip you tightly.
You lean against him, your eyes still closed, “I’m sure you could do better.” You admit quietly.
He scoffs, “Better than perfection?”
You tilt your head back to look up at him, “Perfection? Hardly.”
He frowns slightly, “Yes. Perfection.” Both of his hands move, and you release a startled noise when he effortlessly picks you up. You wrap your arms around his neck for support, and he coaxes your legs around his waist.
You absently trace his tattoo with one delicate finger, “I’m not perfect, Jesse. You don’t have to-” You’re cut off when his lips crash against yours, his lips, teeth, and tongue doing wonders to distract you.
“No more talking,” He says once you’re flushed and breathless, “It’s time for you to listen.” Jesse walks you into the bedroom and he grins at you when he drops you on the middle of the bed, and then crawls over you, so you’re pinned beneath him.
“Jess-” He presses a light finger against your lips, and then kisses you again.
“I love your eyes,” He murmurs, his lips trailing from your lips to ghost butterfly kisses against your eyelids, “They’re so expressive. I always know what you’re thinking and feeling just by looking at your eyes.”
His lips trail down your face, and he kisses the tip of your nose, “I love your nose. How it scrunches up when you see something you don’t agree with, the freckles that appear when you spend time in the sun, the way you bump it against mine when you want my attention.”
Jesse’s lips move again, ghosting against your own, “I love your lips. The way you smile whenever you see me. The way you frown when you read something that’s not quite true. The way they part when I kiss that one spot under your ear.”
He pulls back and grins at your pink face, and then he leans in again, his lips going to that spot under your ear that he mentioned, and then dragging down your jaw, and down your throat. “Love your voice,” He murmurs against your throat, “The way you say my name. The way you laugh. The stories you tell. The noises you make when I make you fall apart.”
His hands slide down your torso, and he swiftly peels your shirt off, tossing it to the side. And then his lips move from your throat to your shoulder, down your arm, and to your hands. He presses light kisses against the pads of your fingers, “Love your hands. The way you hold mine. And how you trace my tattoos and scars.” He kisses the palm of your hand, “Love the letters you write me when I’m away. Love the little things you make for me when you think I need a pick-me-up.”
Jesse kisses back up your arm and to your shoulder, where he spends a moment kissing and sucking and biting, until you have an obvious mark, and only then does he move his lips to your collar, and down your chest. 
He deftly removes your bra and tosses it to the side, and he rains light kisses against your breasts, his lips lingering first on one of your nipples, and then the other, pulling a soft moan from you. “Love your tits, babe. So soft and warm. The perfect size for my hands. And so very sensitive. Bet I could make you fall apart just by playing with them.” Jesse glances up at you and winks, “An experiment for later.”
You flush red, “Jess-”
“Shh, cyare. I’m not done yet.” Jesse chides with a grin. He presses several more kisses to your breasts, and then moves down your body. He kisses down to your stomach, and then moves to your hips, “Love your hips, cyare.” He murmurs, as he leaves a series of red marks on one hip, and then on the opposite hip, “Love the way I can grab them. Really love how I can use them to pull you closer. Love watching the way they sway when you walk.”
He presses a kiss just below your navel, and then smoothly lifts your hips from the bed, and tugs your shorts down in one smooth motion. And then he moves and he presses his lips against your calf. He doesn’t say anything, though, until his lips reach your knees, “Love your legs.” He murmurs against your skin, “Love the way you wrap them around me. The way you tangle them with mine when we’re getting ready for bed. The way they look when we’re laying out at the pool and you let me run the suntan lotion on them-” He closes his eyes and groans theatrically, “I really fucking love your legs.”
You release a breathless laugh, “Why do you think I always ask you? You’re not exactly subtle, love.”
“Minx.” He accuses fondly, and then he kisses your inner thighs. “Lift your hips, cyar’ika.” He murmurs, and then he grins as you immediately do as he asks. He slowly drags your panties down your legs and tosses them to the side to be dealt with later.
Jesse watches you for a moment, his gaze molten with desire, “Love your pretty pussy, cyar’ika.” He says in a low voice, leaning in and pressing a light kiss just over your clit, pulling a strangled moan from you, “Love how you're always so eager for me. How I barely have to do anything and you’re ready for anything.” He pauses, considering, and then kisses up your body, finally catching your lips with his.
You wrap your arms around him and arch against him. “Jesse-” You whine.
“Do you believe me yet?” he asks against your lips, “You are…absolute perfection.”
“I-”
He kisses you again and again, “Say yes, cyar’ika.” He murmurs against your lips, “Say yes, because I need you so bad right now.”
You whine, “Yes! Yes…please Jesse-”
His lips crash against yours, “Good girl.” He breathes out as he pulls back and peels his own shirt off, “Lay back and relax, pretty girl. I’ll take care of you.”
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🎲
[Katsuki POV]
“You rolled the dice and that’s what you get, birthday boy~” You purred while regarding me from across the table, a smirk playing upon your lips.
I was too busy clutching the cloth of the restaurant’s table to even hear you. The blood was pounding in my ears so damn loud and the heat under my collar was getting to be too much. “S-shut up, you damn dumbass…”
Sometimes…I hated those dice.
The second I had woken up this morning, you were standing on the side of the bed wearing that big grin and those cursed dice in your hands. I wasn’t even fully awake yet and you pulled that crazy stunt while singing “Happy Birthday”. I still rolled them and fucking hell it had to be “no penetration”, “all day”, and “use anything”. At least you eased me into this stupid as hell tradition of birthday sex dice by simply giving me a reach around while I was showering…albeit at the time I wasn’t too damn happy since I just want to bend you over and—
“And for you, sir?”
I growl lowly at the waiter who had interrupted my train of thought, my red eyes glaring at him. “Garlic Parmesan steak with grilled -not fried- shrimp, red mashed potatoes and collard greens on the side. If the chef knows what’s good for ‘em those spices better be hot.”
My gaze shifts to you as I hear your giggle. Damnit, you look so damn gorgeous tonight. You’re wearing that outfit I love so much…where it hugs your curves so damn perfect, gives me that peek of your breasts, and the skirt so short that if I peeked under the table and you had your legs open I could see—
“And anything to drink, sir?”
My teeth gnash as I stare daggers at the waiter. “Give me the strongest spirit you’ve got in this damn place.”
“Katsuki!” You reprimand, apologetically smiling up at the waiter. “Sorry about his tone. It’s his birthday and it’s been quite a long day for him.”
I knew exactly what you were doing and I wanted to come over there and bend you over the damn table! Your sweet smile doesn’t fool me, damnit! You slipped that on purpose!
“Oh, pardon me, I shall notify the staff immediately!”
The second he walked away, I leaned forward and rested my chin on my own laced fingers, elbows resting on the table as I glared at you. “You sneaky, conniving fox…”
“Oh, Katsuki, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
I swallow thickly when you effortlessly smirk with a comeback.
The wheels in my head start to turn. All day long you’ve been playing by the rules of those cursed dice; sending me pics of yourself while I’m out on patrol, dirty texting/calling, you even stopped by my agency office earlier so we could make the reservations you’d made and gave me a quick hand job while I drove us here!
It’s evening, the end of a torturous day, but it had been spicy in its own sense.
“Katsuki~”
My red eyes narrow at your tone. I knew it very well and whatever was about to come out of that pretty, gloss-lined mouth of yours was going to be trouble. “What?”
“I’m going to powder my face. Keep an eye on my drink, please?
Now I was even more suspicious as I watched you walk away towards the restrooms. What are you scheming? I found out exactly what you had in mind not a minute later when I get a text from you complete with a selfie of your dress unzipped far enough to show me the lingerie set that is brand new from my merch; fiery red and orange lace, dark green corset-like ribbons, black garter and cups that perfectly—
“A complimentary appetizer by courtesy of the restaurant, sir.”
I nearly slam my damn phone down onto the table with one of my explosions when the waiter slips a plate of calamari and various other little morsels. Damnit, you’re driving me insane with your interruptions!, I internally scream at him.
A sudden and unexpected touch suddenly makes me jump but then I’m clutching to the table like it’s me sole anchor in the world as I feel something warm and wet wrap around my cock, my jaw nearly dropping when I feel that tongue of yours lap at my now tight balls.
When the hell did you get down there?!
Shudders start slipping down my spine as I can do little but remain as stoic faced as possible despite the now raging desire in my veins pounding like a damn drug as I peek down and see you smirking from around my length. The tablecloth reached the floor so no one knew you were under there but-
A choked groan catches in my throat when I feel you suckle and lick my swollen tip like it’s a lollipop, my hands on the table wanting nothing more than to grab you by the hair and—
“Refill on your drink, sir?”
“N-none for me!” I manage to huff, every muscle in my body tightening as I feel you slowly slip me into your throat and making my eyes widen and entire body break out into a sweat. “S-son of a…”
I spare another peek down at you and bite my lip when I see you give me clear view of the bulge in your throat that is me, sealing the deal and making me cum right there with a strangled and hoarse cry from behind my hand.
“Y-y-you’re such a f-freak…” I whisper as you clean me up and carefully settle me back within my pants before you move back to your seat.
“But I know you love it.”
The blood in my veins freezes when you wink while licking your lips. Something felt off. But what? My hands reflexively drop to my thighs then slowly feel around my groin. Everything felt normal enough. I raise my gaze back to you. “What did you do?”
Heat erupts into my face when you simply hold up your phone and drag your finger across the screen…resulting in an all too familiar vibrating sensation to start within my pants. Which pair of boxers did I put on today?! Tell me it wasn’t the ones I think they are!
That smirk on your face tells me all I need to know as the patterns and intensity of what I was feeling changed depending upon your finger. Just when I thought I was safe, you pull a stunt like this?! A shaky smile raises my lips.
“G-god, I love you.”
“I know. Now let’s enjoy our dinner then we can go home for your desert, birthday boy.”
“Marry me.” My own smirk appears when you wiggle your left hand, a ring so damn big it would make Todoroki’s wife jealous whenever he got one, flashing brilliantly in the light. “I know. Marry me again.”
“We go through this almost every year, Kats, but I’ll show you how much I really love you when at home.”
I internally curse as the vibrations intensify for a few seconds thanks to your finger on the phone screen before they lower to a dull hum that makes my blood buzz.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@bakubunny @zazter-den
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nagisa-666 · 9 months
Text
《BAKUGO! M! READER X BLUE LOCK》
《CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD》
《WARNINGS!: Mentions of death, kind of crack fic, curse words, kind of explicit words, slight angst, lazy writing, crossover MHA x Blue Lock》
"SHUT UP YOU DAMN LOSERR!!"
Of course. Early to bed and early to rise makes (Name) a massive bitch.
You'd think that for a guy with such a good reputation among his fellow football players would have a good personality, wouldn't you?
No, turns out they were only talking about his skills. In real life, his personality is worse then trash. With anger issues, a superiority complex, and an inferiority complex, he also has a foul mouth that goes with his foul attitude.
"Who are you call a loser, PUNK?!" And Raichi, an equally hot headed football geek.
No, he's not a pokemon.
With how hot headed the both of them are, they're constantly butting head in disagreements, sometimes even getting into physical fights because of such disagreements.
Everyone is annoyed by it.
"YOU HEARD ME, SHIT HEAD! OPEN UP YOUR DAMN EARS FOR ONCE AND MAYBE YOU WON'T BE DEAF!" (Name) shouted incredibly loud, making everyone wince as he glared at Raichi fiercely, his red eyes almost glowing from rage.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, HUNK OF JUNK! YOU AIN'T WORTH SHIT!" Raichi fired back, showing off his sharp teeth with a scowl while (Name) scoffed, everyone in the room with them sighing annoyed.
"WORTH MORE THAN YOU, OBVIOUSLY!" (Name) snarled like a dog, eyes enlarged with veins showing while Yoichi sweated in the back, trying to hold him back before (Name) threw him back effortlessly. Damn. RIP Yoichi, you will be missed. But some were eyeing his muscle with faint blushes.
"SAY THAT TO MY FACE, BITCH!-" Pokémon bitch attempted to shout, before a someone got annoyed and interrupted.
The girls were fighting.
"OH MY GOD WE GET IT YOU'RE BOTH GAY SHUT UP!" Bachira shouted, quickly quieting everyone down as they stared at him in silent horror, some even praying for him as they waited for the blondes to explode.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, DUNCE FACE!-" The girls are back at it.
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"Hey, Bakubro! How's everyone treating you?" Kirishima asked, glad that his calls are actually getting through.
(Name) actually scored enough goals to get his phone back, so he took the chance to call back anyone who was blowing up his notifications (his mom, shitty hair, dunce face, racoon eyes, soy sauce, and Deku, who he blocked before,) and of course the best comes first.
So he called Shitty hair back first.
"I don't care about them. How's Dunce face and Racoon eyes? Are they stealing my shit again?" He asked, getting straight to the point as he finished his work sheet, noticing how everyone slightly quieted down to hear the call.
"... Haha, no! In fact, I haven't seen them act this good in your room before!" He said, noticeably not talking in the beginning, as if he was staring at someone or someone was talking to him. He calls bullshit.
"They're stealing my protein powder, aren't they?" He said, voice bland and face stoic, just waiting for the other to confirm what he said as the other in the room sent glances to each other, sometimes even sneaking a peek at his face.
"Yeah man I'm sorry. But! Good news, I got the job! So I'll be able to pay you back when you get back! No worries! Oh, and Deku was trying to call you too! He wanted to asked what it was like to be with the best football teens in one place!" The red head chuckled, listening to the pink haired girl and the charge bolt boy thank him profusely before waving them off, waiting for the blonde boy to speak.
"Tell Deku that I ain't telling him shit. And tell the old hag that when I get back, I want some spicy tofu! Spicy enough it makes my taste buds bleed!" (Name) shouted, grinning his evil grin like he always does when he's hyped about something, which makes the red haired boy on the other end laugh wildly. (Name) can't wait until he gets home and is able to eat the spicy tofu his mom makes. The shit they call spicy tofu here isn't even spicy, it barely even burns.
(Everyone else is scared of what his definition of spicy is. The spicy tofu they give him looks like death.)
"Yeah, okay! Oh- sorry, your mom's calling us, I'm gonna hafta hang up!" Kirishima said, loud enough that those close enough heard him clearly.
"Kay." A loose reply.
"See ya, Bakubro!" Affection through words, Kirishima loves telling him that.
"Kay." Another loose reply. Man, he is so tempted to just hang up.
"Say it back!" Kirishima whined, making (Name) feel as though he was able to just see the pout and teary eyes he gets when he's joking around dramatically.
"No." Then he hung up.
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"Hey, hot head, let's play 21 questions!" Bachira asked (more like demanded- but (Name) is the same, if not more stubborn-) dribbling a ball as he lightly treaded on the grass, playing with (Name) to pass time until one of them got annoyed.
"Fuck no." Sharp reply. (Name) didn't want this creepy 'monster' boy to know anything important about him. The way he kept talking about a 'monster' being in him and telling him what to do and who to talk to? Creepy. It's a miracle that he's even talking to him now.
"Aw, why not?!" Bitch boy Bachira whined, gaining a fake pout while (Name) scoffed, stealing the ball and running quickly, making a goal before Bachira got the the ball, continuing their 'conversation.'
"'Cause I don't fuckin' like you." Truer words have never been spoken. Whenn he dies, he wants 'my only regret is not flipping more people off' on his tombstone.
"Aw:(" (Name) wondered how the FUCK he said that out loud. Fuck, sometimes he wanted to put that boy in full body cast.
"Shut yo goofy ass up." Amazing. He's barely been talking to this fuck face for 5 minutes and he already wants to throw him under a bus.
"Anyway, let me go first! What's the color of your nipples."
"..."
"What's the color of your nipples."
"I'm fucking done with you. Get the fUCK AWAY FROM ME YOU FREAK-"
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"Hey, brat! You know better then to call me while I'm at work! I already know to make spicy tofu when I get home!-" Mitsuki said, answering her ringing phone with a rough voice as she began to change her clothes, looking at the ones her dear husband made himself with admiration.
"Excuse me, are you Bakugo (Name)'s guardian?" A sudden cold voice interrupted her, making her pause before looking at her phone, making sure it was (Name)'s number.
"Uh- Yeah? Listen, if he's in trouble just tell me where he is-" Suddenly feeling unsettled, she felt like something bad was about to happen. But that always happens with (Name). Sometimes he gets too mad and just beats someone up for being arrogant or something. Maybe he was in jail or something.
"I'm sorry to tell you this, but your son has been involved stabbing incident. He's in surgery right now.. We don't think he's going to survive." The cold voice said, and Mitsuki felt her heart drop. That couldn't be right. No, her little boy was always careful when out and about. Even if he was tired, he made sure that he knew where he was going and what to avoid. This had to be some elaborate prank his friends thought of.
"... Huh? Hey, if this is a joke, it's not very funny. Put him on the phone, let me talk to him." She demanded, putting her clothes back on before she stormed out, trying to find her husband frantically.
"This isn't a joke. He's at Musutafu hospital, Shizuoka Prefecture. I imagine you would want to spend his last moments together." Then a click and it went quiet.
"MASARU!"
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"This morning the young football prodigy, Bakugo (Name) was discovered to have died at a local hospital in Musutafu, in Shizuoka Prefecture after being a victim to a stabbing by an unknown stalker. Witnesses and CCTV footage have said and shown that he was walking when a man wearing a black hoodie and sweats ran up with a knife and stabbed him in the stomach. Officials still do not understand why the man did this. In later news, we'll talk about the wake and funeral of this young star. Thoughts and prayers to his parents."
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iconicbuck · 1 year
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Just one more episode of Buck looking like this, please?
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otomehoneyybearr · 4 months
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Jin's Holiday Event Story!
As always, thank you @candied-boys for providing the story, hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: This is one super cute but also spicy so please, minors, do not interact.
It was a cold Christmas morning where the roses were dusted with snow, Jin and I were inside our warm room, decorating the fir tree he’d gifted me the previous Christmas.
It had been sitting in the corner of the room ever since, but its rich green leaves were thriving as proof of being well taken care of.
Emma: “The tree’s gotten so much bigger since you gifted it to me.”
Jin: “Yeah. I’m glad to be able to watch its growth together with you again this year.”
Emma: “Every day spent with you, Jin, feels like a fleeting moment of happiness.”
Emma: “When I see the growth of this tree, I truly realize that time is passing.”
While expressing these felling that well up in my heart, I continue to decorate the tree with ornaments
Jin, then, picked up a rose he had prepared for the decoration.
I thought he would hang it on the fir tree, but to my surprise, the rose ends up nestled in my hair bun.
Emma: “W-What are you doing, Jin?!”
Startled, I raised my voice as Jin, who had picked up a ribbon intended for decoration, begins to wrap it around my arm.
Jin: “Ah, don’t worry. I’m just decorating the most beautiful tree in the continent in my own way.”
Emma: “…I don’t even know where to begin with this, I can’t concentrate like this.”
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Jin: “But you know, a properly decorated tree is essential for a Christmas party, right?”
Jin: “If we leave it like this, the party will never start.”
(Well, It IS true that this won't end if we keep it like this. I'll just continue working without paying him any attention.)
Reluctantly giving in, I resume my work. But Jin’s mischief knows no bounds….
He places a snowflake decoration on top of my head and casually hooks and ornament string to my fingertips.
Emma: “Come on, Jin!”
Even while protesting, I couldn’t help but find it funny, and my face completely relaxed.
Turning around to face Jin, who had been up to mischief behind me, I noticed a joyful smile on his lips.
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Jin: “Alright, alright. Let’s finish the decorations before it gets dark.”
Finally, Jin removes the from my head and unties the ribbon from my hair.
(Phew, finally the decoration might progress smooth—Huh?!)
Just as I felt his rough fingers gently caress my neck,
He effortlessly unbuttoned my blouse and was about to invade the collar area, when suddenly…
Emma: “W-wait a second. This is…”
Jin: “I’m just doing as you wished, taking everything off.”
Emma: “That’s not decoration though!”
Jin ignores my words completely, reaching his fingers to my breast and repeatedly flicks the sensitive tip.
Emma: “Ah, Jin…!”
As I writhe from the rhythmic pleasure, he seals my lips with a kiss.
Our tongues, hot and moist, entwine with each other.
Jin: "You know, your a beautiful woman even without any decorations."
My legs began to tremble and become moist, when Jin gently picked me up and carried me to the bed.
We intertwined, changing angles, and exchanged countless kisses--
Jin: "And just like a tree, it's a waste to only admire it once a year."
Jin: “I want to love you every day and every night, Emma.”
As Jin whispered sweetly in my ear and teased my earlobe,
He swiftly thrusts his body deep inside me.
(Being teased and compared to a tree was surprising, but hearing those words make me incredibly happy.)
Emma: "Mmmh… one day isn’t enough… I want to express my love to you whenever I can Jin.”
Contrary to the snowscape outside the window, my body and heart are melting warmly with Jin’s love.
This special Christmas spent with my beloved has only just begun.
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I continue to embrace the special time and love that is given to me.
▼・ ᴥ・▼
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hiraeth-witch-11 · 1 year
Text
Billy Russo's "Pet" Part 2
Warnings: Billy Russo, nonsexual forced nudity
Word Count: 1000ish
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Your head throbs as you wake. Resting on something warm and soft, the chill has been chased away from your limbs. Nuzzling into the warmth, you inhale the smell of the forest combined with something spicy and a surprising sweetness. 
“I knew you’d like me if you gave me half a chance,” a voice says teasingly, their laughter sending vibrations through their chest and against your face.
You try to jerk away, remembering where you are. Strong arms wrap around you like steel bands.
“Nuh uh, none of that now. I need to get you cleaned up before we have our little chat about how things are gonna work around here. Do you understand?”
You refuse to look at his face as you spit angrily, “You’re insane. Let me go!”
Billy sighs in disappointment, hand reaching up to grip your jaw roughly as he forces you to look at him.
“I don’t wanna hurt you anymore than I have to.” A pause then a sly smile. “Or anymore than you beg me to. Are you gonna listen or am I gonna have to compel you again?”
You flinch at the idea. Everytime he compels you, it feels like your mind and body are not your own. You try to fight it, but it just makes it worse. It’s a horrific feeling, one you would do just about anything to avoid.
“I’ll listen,” you answer quietly. You’re too tired to try and escape again right now. You need to rest and figure out this man’s patterns, his weaknesses. Picking your battles to get on his good side and keep yourself safe. Then you can bolt the second you get another chance. Preferably with shoes this time.
“Good girl, pet.” 
The words elicit a response from you that is not at all controlled by your brain. Of course the creepy monster man had to be sexy. You try to tamp down on your lust and maintain your anger. “I have a name.”
“I’m well aware.” Billy lifts you and carries you into a magnificent bathroom. His entire home was more life a palace than a house. Somehow, he manages to flick on the light while keeping you in his arms. The sudden brightness makes you grimace, eyes closing as the light sends spearing pain throughout your skull. “Sorry, pet. I’ll keep it off.”
You hear the light switch click and tentatively open your eyes. Billy sets you on the edge of the tub, starts the hot water running, and strides over to the cabinet, pulling out a first aid kit.
“I think you have a concussion. We’ll get you all healed up as soon as you’re clean.”
You aren’t sure what he means and you don’t ask, opting to watch him silently instead. It’s hard to read his expression in the dark, not much light has entered the room from the doorway and his face is in the shadows. He kneels in front of you with the kit and grabs one of your feet. You flinch at the contact and he gives you a stern look.
“Sit still,” he orders. Billy peels off the torn sock, stained with dirt and blood, tossing it effortlessly into the trash without looking. Using a pair of tweezers, he efficiently removes the various debris from your cuts before moving to the next foot. Once your feet are taken care of, he examines your palms and temple. Thankfully, there isn’t much to dig out of the egg sized bump on your scalp, just a splinter. The tub is full at this point, tendrils of steam rising off it, visible even in the dim light.
“Strip and get in,” he says as he washes his hands and puts away the kit.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Your clothes are filthy and you are covered in mud.”
“Turn around,” you insist.
“No.” He leans back against the counter, arms folded. You hesitate. ��Now or I’ll just compel you. The choice is yours.”
With shaky hands, you begin to remove your clothing. Once he sees that you are complying, he surprises you by looking away and busying himself with pulling several fluffy white towels out of the cabinet and setting them by the tub.
You step into the tub on limbs rubbery with exhaustion and hold back a groan at how good the heat feels on your sore muscles. The tub is so large that even with several inches between the water level and the rim, you are already chest deep in water. Bringing your knees up to your chest, you wrap your arms around your legs in an attempt to preserve your modesty.
Billy startles you once again by seemingly appearing out of thin air right next to the tub. Maybe your observational skills have declined because of the sheer stress of being kidnapped and chased. In his hand is a white washcloth. You tense as he makes slow, obvious motions. Dipping the cloth into the water and carefully pressing it against the skin of your shoulder. 
He’s surprisingly almost clinical about it, not necessarily because it seems unfeeling, but more because it’s thorough and not sexual in the slightest. Billy wipes the dirt from your shoulders, back, arms, calves and feet, leaving the rest of your body to you. He takes special care as he grabs a fresh washcloth and cleans your face. You can feel the sensation of drying blood on your scalp and your fingers itch to reach up and start scratching your scalp until the blood and mud are gone. It’s an irrational urge, one you are all too familiar with, and you breathe a sigh of relief when Billy instructs you to tilt your head back.
With one hand against your forehead to protect your eyes, he pours warm water over your hair until it’s thoroughly wetted. Then he douses it in shampoo and rubs his fingers into your scalp. You can’t remember the last time someone washed your hair for you. You'd almost forgotten how good it felt.
Billy seems pleased with your reaction as you allow yourself to relax into his touch. He rinses the soap from your hair and conditions it, before repeating the process. You finally feel clean. Something that shouldn’t be so important to you in this situation, but is.
“Up,” Billy instructs, holding out a large towel. You cautiously allow him to wrap you in it and towel off your hair with a second, smaller towel.
“Good pet, you behaved so well for me. Now we can talk.” Billy grins widely, elongated canines fully on display. The look of a predator.
*******
If you want to be put on, or taken off my taglists, feel free to tell me!
Series list: intothesoul, sweetserendipity65
Billy Russo Taglist: @snowkestrel, happydeanpotter, jvanilly
Everything Taglist: @kayhi808,
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wishing-stones · 11 months
Note
don't imagine Horror but make it spicy
This took so long to get to orz
Don't imagine racing through the forest at top speed, heart threatening to pound out of your chest, breath coming in short white puffs in front of you, as you clear fallen logs and slide under others. Don't imagine hearing him not far behind you, effortlessly keeping up and clearing obstacles you try to place in his way. You don't think he's even using his weapon.
Don't imagine how he catches up, breath hot on your neck, before he lets you get farther ahead again, weaving through trees and vaulting the occasional snowy bush.
Don't imagine how a few frozen vines catch your ankle, and you faceplant into the snow, eventually managing to role over to face him as he kneels over you, spreading his skeletal palm over your clavicle, and leaning down to close his teeth around your neck.
Lightly. Just enough pressure to let you know he's won.
Don't imagine how he chuckles and leans back a bit, his eyelight a low, scarlet crescent in his eye socket, face smug... but also wry with promise.
Really don't imagine how he purrs that, since he won, the game is his, and he'll take his prize now, thank you.
...Fortunately, not directly in the biting cold and snow.
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happyk44 · 9 months
Text
Just thinking about Todoroki seeing his classmates get together and yearning for something similar but the only person who isn't taken that he mildly likes is a certain spiky blonde who has displayed no physical interest in anyone.
It's easy with everyone else. He's picked up the signs. Blushing faces, stammers, longing glances. Most of it culminates into a mutual courtship but for the most part, some of it fades and wanes into the next crush.
He doesn't really get it.
He wonders if Bakugou doesn't get it either.
Maybe that's why he doesn't turn red unless he's screaming and why he doesn't preen himself like a bird when someone specific comes in the room. He never stammers. He's too confident. He sweats but he always sweats.
The more Todoroki watches him, the more he can tell that Bakugou is pretty. He knows what pretty is - what other people say it is at least - and Bakugou fits.
But it's somewhat more than that, isn't it? It's not just his face, it's his voice. There's a deep melody to it even it's only heard when he's hollering. And he has nice hands. Sure, they're calloused and tough, but always clean, deliberate black fingernail polish on his nails.
He smells good too. Strong. Like caramel.
He's never been one for sweets but Todoroki is always a little tempted to lick him just to see if it is anyway.
And his hair looks stiff but he's grazed it enough times to know how soft it really is. Uraraka is obsessed with Midoriya's curls and, if Todoroki transposes that onto someone else, he understands why. There's this forbidden element in Bakugou's whole stature. Off limits to everyone.
And he's pretty.
And Todoroki likes him in all his screeching brash honesty and aggressive manic grins and sparking popping hands and swears so dirty his sister would plug his mouth with soap
"Take a picture, Icy Hot," he seethes and Todoroki blinks out of his staring. Bakugou stares him down. "It'll last longer."
He cocks his head and then does so. Bakugou's face burns and he swats Todoroki away, snapping at him with no real heat. Todoroki bounces back and leans against the counter again.
Bakugou is always focused when he cooks. Can he blame him for staring?
"We should date."
Bakugou's hand goes so white around his spoon, for a moment Todoroki is certain he's going to snap the wood in half. "Hah?"
Todoroki pockets his phone. "Everyone else is dating."
Bakugou rolls his eyes. "So, what? You're a fucking sheep now, Two-tone?"
"No." With his eyes, he traces the outline of Bakugou's arm - the way his muscles twitch under his skin.
"You sure fucking sound like it," Bakugou mutters. "Everyone else is dating so we should. Ha!" He snorts - an ugly sound if it were on anyone else. "As if."
"Do you not like boys?"
Bakugou waps at him with the spoon again. Todoroki flees to the other side of the kitchen, spicy red sauce stinging his wrist. He licks it off his skin and resists the urge to hiss. It's really hot.
Bakugou watches him with a careful eye before turning back to his food. "Who I do and don't like is none of your business, Weak Tongue."
That's a new one. Todoroki chews on the edge of his tongue to regain any sensation that has now been dulled before answering.
"You like me."
Bakugou looks a second from blowing off his head. A usual reaction when Todoroki says they're friends. It's been a year of it though and his reactions have toned down.
He doesn't scream denials anymore.
That should count for something.
"I tolerate you," Bakugou snaps back. "I tolerate all of you."
Well, that's not true. He's not the opposite of who he used to be but he's changed. He doesn't growl during rescue training as much as he used to. He teams up with the others effortlessly - even if he still grumbles and shouts at them. And, although testy about it, he does let others take the lead when needed. Infrequently and only a couple people - Midoriya, Iida, and Momo.
Everyone else is usually relegated to "convince me and maybe I'll listen" but even then, it's more than what it was.
He stretches his sleep schedule on weekends to hang out with the class and his own little group. He helps with studies.
He even cooks when asked - although it does take a little praise to convince him but it's very rarely a lie when it's done.
"You like me," Todoroki corrects and he ducks when Bakugou aims a small burst at his head.
The smell of burnt hair singes above him but he pats his head and feels nothing on fire and so counts himself lucky. He took out the entire top of Kirishima's hair once. Although he looked quite nice when Mina evened it all out. And it seemed the connection over hairstyling is what brought them together in the first place.
"Say it again," Bakugou hisses, "and next time I won't miss."
He's still prickly about friendship but if Todoroki cared about that, he wouldn't be doing this.
"We should date," he repeats, taking a tentative step forward.
Midoriya's self-sacrificing tendencies must be rubbing off on him.
"I don't date extras," Bakugou says.
Todoroki pauses. "How do I stop being an extra then?"
There's a pinched look to Bakugou's face that screams "don't kill him, don't kill him, don't kill him" and it's presence makes him warm.
Something to work through later but for now he settles into that feeling and steps closer and closer until he's pressed into Bakugou's personal space.
Bakugou cuts his eyes at him. "Back up." Todoroki does. By an inch or so and Bakugou seethes. "Annoying," he mutters.
But he doesn't tell Todoroki to back off anymore. So he hovers.
The silence isn't palpable but it is tense. It cuts around Todoroki's throat like a noose, attached visibly to the flexing fist at Bakugou's side.
Bakugou stirs his sauce without word and Todoroki hovers nearby. His heart beats with every thump of the spoon against the pan. It's a near quiet sound but in the silence it feels all too audible.
Maybe this wasn't his smartest thought.
"Why do you want to date anyway?" Bakugou says at last. "Because, as is fucking obvious, if I did date, I wouldn't date a fucking sheep."
"I'm not a sheep," Todoroki mutters. He wrings his wrist. "Everyone else just seems so happy."
"So? You need to do what everyone else is doing?" Bakugou smacks him, a short shot from the back of his hand up against his chin. His head knocks back but Bakugou keeps going. "That's a sheep."
"I think it would be nice to see why."
Bakugou snorts as he turns off the heat. The sauce is bubbling and he gives it a final stir before spooning it into a still hot bowl of rice. "Get a fucking clue and maybe I'll think about it."
He drags over the other bowls he'd laid out for his so-called squad and spoons the rest of the sauce into them. "And ask me better next time, idiot." He cuts his eyes at him, a ferocity in them that sends a chill down Todoroki's spine. "I don't take to demands."
"It was more of a suggestion."
"Do I look like I give a shit?"
He did not.
Todoroki shifts. "No," he says. "That's what I like about you." Bakugou pauses, his shoulders tensing. "You don't care about things like that. It's weirdly calming."
Bakugou snorts. "You sound like my old man." His eyes cut him again. "I'm not gonna date my old man, Icy Hot."
"I wouldn't want you to." Todoroki reaches up, grabs a box of rice crackers out of the cabinet and holds it to his chest with both hands. "Enjoy your dinner, Bakugou."
He's halfway out of the kitchen when a fork smacks him in the back of the head. "Oi, dumbass."
Bakugou points at one of the bowls. "You can't live on rice crackers alone, idiot."
He brushes past Todoroki with a rough push, his free hand hot against Todoroki's skin. Their fingers just barely glide across each other. Todoroki stills, catching Bakugou's eyes as he grins, all teeth bared. Then Bakugou turns and shouts out into the living room for his "incapable extras" to go feed themselves.
Todoroki is gone before they can even notice he grabbed a bowl for himself.
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sanisse · 2 years
Note
comforting Elrond after Arwen's wedding smut (maybe breeding kink if you do that) dom female reader, please
(Also I can't wait to see what type of writer you are *squeals* - QueeenStarlight✨)
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ELROND IS SO HOTTTTT, just had to say that. bye:))))))
Freaking yes. I love this man. He IS really hot 👀😏Thank you for the request!! 💗
Spice level (1-5): 🌶🌶🌶🌶 extra spicy!
Reader: fem she/her. Reader has a vagina.
Warnings/tags: penetrative sex, mild breeding kink, power dynamics & power play, praise kink. Blink-and-you-miss-it hand and finger kink. Reader is a pretty soft dom in this. 💕
Sindarin Translations:
Elig nín - my little star
Hiril nín - my lady
Meleth - love
Arimelda - dearest
Minors DNI. Your media consumption is your own responsibility.
Catharsis - Elrond x Fem!Reader
As the sun sets on the coronation ball, Elrond retires early. You almost miss it, he sneaks out so effortlessly. The second you catch a glimpse of him winding through the crowd to step out, you take chase. He usually so loves parties. It’s almost unheard-of for him to leave one early.
The halls of the Citadel of Kings are white and solemn, almost tomb-like. Elrond is a specter floating through them. He doesn’t seem to notice as you follow him all the way to the rooms that the two of you are staying in until it comes time to return home to Rivendell. Elrond slips inside. The door falls shut. You wait a moment, debating. It’s clear he wants to be alone.
But should he be?
He’s been holding back tears all day. As much as he wants space, you’re reluctant to return to the party without at least checking on him. So, you tiptoe up to the door and slip inside.
Elrond sits on the edge of the bed you share, twisting Vilya around his finger, head bowed, tears streaking down his face in silver tracks. He doesn’t make any sound as he cries. The grief radiates from his body, seeping like creeping jackfrost along the Bond you two have between your souls.
Your chest twists. You cross the room to sit next to him, reaching over to still his restless hands.
“You don’t have to grieve alone,” you whisper.
He’s quiet, with his jaw clamped so tightly shut it’s as if he can’t trust his voice. Something else opens up in the Bond. The impression of a yawning chasm, like a great black maw, a pit of loneliness and sadness and pain.
You feel—rather than hear— him say, (that is the only way I know how to grieve).
Your own eyes grow hot and prick with tears. You lean over to kiss his cheek, then wrap your arms around him. He feels so…strangely small. Elrond is huge. Seven feet tall and pure muscle. But he feels impossibly fragile now.
You stroke his hair while he cries and ask: “Tell me how I can help you. What do you need?”
He doesn’t answer. He just shakes his head and buried his face in your neck.
“Sleep?” You ask. “I’ll be right here with you.”
It’s not the world’s most helpful suggestion, but he really does need to rest. The second he’d arrived in Minas Tirith he’d been unable to stop himself from jumping in to help with the wounded still recovering from the great battles that had raged these past few months. With the impending coronation and Arwen’s wedding, he had wanted to keep himself as busy as possible. He has a bad habit of working himself to the bone to escape his own feelings. He’s completely work himself out and you’re sure that now, when he can no longer run from the pain, the weariness is only making everything worse.
Elrond just shakes his head. “I cannot.”
You just sit there a moment, still holding him, trying to think of something. There is one small thing you can try. It works well when he’s overstressed at home, but you’re not sure if it’s the right thing to do here. It’s certainly not a long term solution by any means, but it could— perhaps— provide enough catharsis that he might at least be able to sleep.
Sometimes, Elrond needs to just stop thinking. To be taken apart piece by piece so he can get out of his own head for once.
You kiss his cheek again, still rubbing his back, then you pull back to take his face in your hands and offer: “Would it help to take your mind off things if I— If we just spent the night like we sometimes do? Would you like me to help you relax? To stop that whirring, clever brain of yours for a few hours?”
He has the wherewithal to blush, which is a relief. He isn’t so completely consumed. You offer him a little smile, waiting for his answer.
Elrond nods at last. He reaches up to take your hands and brings them to his mouth to kiss them. His lips are warm, a little wet from the tears that still leak from his eyes. It’s a tremulous, fragile thing: that kiss.
“Very well,” you say softly. “Take out your hair for me, elig nín?”
It’s always the first step. You watch as his slender, strong fingers unlace the red ribbons, then work their way up to the strange little knots exclusive to him, then through the rest of his hair. He shakes it out when he’s done. It falls midnight-black around his shoulders, glinting silver where the moonlight from the window catches it.
You lean in to kiss him. It’s a chaste, gentle sort of kiss. “Now, do mine.”
He lets out a shuddering breath and starts to unlace your style. There’s something about it for him —undressing others— that he finds soothing in certain contexts. In other games you play he can be a hungry animal, stripping away layers to get to his prize. Like this, though, there is something reverential in it. Deferential. He has never explained, but you wonder if it goes back to his days of service to Gil-Galad.
When he finishes with your hair, he helps you with the corset and party gown. Once you’re free of it, you pop the first button on his jacket and he takes the hint and strips down to his waist. You take the opportunity then to run your hands over the newly -exposed expanse of skin he’s offering you: heated, golden, silhouetted in starlight. His broad, strong shoulders, dropping to his trim waist, tracing up, up, up to brush your thumbs over his pebbled nipples. He arches into that touch, hissing.
“Lie back for me,” you whisper.
He obeys without hesitation, hair fanning out like a black pool of ink. You lean over him, tracing the waistband of his trousers, and ask, “Will you be good?”
He nods.
You go on: “I know you will. And part of being good is telling me if it’s too much. So be very good for me, elig, and tell me if you need to stop and we will stop.”
He nods again.
“I want to hear you,” you prompt sternly.
“Yes,” he whispers. “I’ll be good. I will tell you.”
“Yes what?”
He shudders beneath your fingertips, tilting his hips toward your hand, and murmurs: “Yes, hiril nín.”
It makes you ache, the way he says it. The way he’s looking at you. “Good,” you say, reaching to stroke his cheek. “You’re already being so good for me.”
He shivers again, eyes slipping shut, and turns to kiss your palm. Your pulse quickens. You pull away to shuffle up his body and lower yourself down onto his face. Elrond doesn’t need any prompting. He licks one long stripe over your cunt, then focuses in on your clit. The touch is electric. It’s so good, making your hips buck. You have to let out a long moan, which Elrond answers with his own— it bubbles out to vibrate against your skin and you gasp.
He is so, so, so good at this. And he loves doing it, loves tasting you, plunging his tongue in and out of you, sucking on your clit, loves it when you lace your fingers in his hair and pull, loves it when you grind down on his face until he can’t breathe, can’t be anywhere but here, underneath you, driving you toward your peak.
You come embarrassingly quickly with a sharp shout. Elrond’s fingers curl in the sheets— you haven’t given him permission to touch you. He just keeps working, sucking, drawing it out as much as you can until your head’s light and you’re so sensitive it almost hurts.
You sit back against his chest with a long, happy sigh. His face is wet and slick with you, eyes blown wide, so dark as he looks up at you with pure, utter adoration, and licks his lips.
“Well done,” you whisper. You feather your fingertips over his mouth and he whines and closes his lips around your fingers and sucks so hard it makes your head pound. He’s so unbearably pretty like this, his eyes burning for you, face flushed. And the noises he’s making as he sucks tell you he’s there— in that comforting little space where he’s not thinking about anything but you, but pleasing you— he always gets high-pitched and sweet.
You pull your fingers out of his mouth, slick with his own saliva, and reach behind you to slip beneath his trousers and take his cock.
He jerks. He’s so hard— this whole thing always gets him hard. You give him one rough pump that makes him choke, and you warn: “Be good.”
“I’m trying,” he whimpers with a wrecked little sound.
“I know,” you reassure, “I know you are, elig. But you can’t come yet. Is that perfectly clear?”
“Yes, hiril nín.”
You let him go and then shuffle back down his body to peel his trousers off him. He tilts his hips for you. You wrap your fingers around him again and give him a few more strokes. It’s a bit cruel— he’s so sensitive— but you love the way his face pinches.
At last, you take pity on him and settle over him once more, taking his cock and lining him up. He whines again— another high-pitched, desperate little sound— and then you sink down, swallowing him up.
He’s big. He’s so, so big. He always fills you up so perfectly. It can be hard to take sometimes, but tonight you go at your own pace until your bodies are flush together and he’s fully seated inside you.
You pin his wrists, drag your hips, and start to use him.
There’s something so intoxicating about holding the Lord of Imladris— bearer of the mightiest of the Three— down and fucking him.
He makes the sweetest little noises, tells you how beautiful you are, how much he loves you, says thank you, thank you, thank you over and over again. There are tears building in his eyes— not from grief but from how overwhelmed and overstimulated he is— and still he’s good— he holds himself back— lets you take and take and take.
You come again with another shout. Elrond watches you with reverence, like you’re something holy— with such fragile adoration it hurts. His eyes have pooled with starlight, flecked with constellations. He’s so, so close to falling apart but he doesn’t beg. He doesn’t ask. He never does. He turns himself over completely to your pleasure.
You’re throbbing between your legs. You’re so wet, leaking all over him, absurdly sated. Every single nerve in your body sings.
You release his wrists and lean down to cradle his head, rubbing at the lingering silver tear tracks, counting the constellations in his eyes.
“Have I been good for you?” he asks.
“Yes, elig, yes, you’ve been so good,” you reassure, breathless. He’s rock hard inside of you, pulsing. He trembles like an earthquake but still doesn’t move, just lies there, waiting for whatever you’ll give him. You know he’d let you leave him like this if you wished it. You’ve done it before. Not tonight, though. Tonight you want to wear him out, you want to give him that rush.
You drag your hips again and he trembles.
“It’s alright, you can touch me,” you say.
He rests his hands on your hips. You brace yourself on your elbows, stroking his face, brushing back his sweat-slicked hair, and kiss him. He tastes of salt and yourself.
“Do you want to come inside me?” You ask, speeding. “Fill me up?”
He makes a choked, tortured sound, shaking as he tries to be good, to stay still, to let you use him. “Yes,” he manages. “Please—“
“Do it,” you command. “Do it, elig. You’ve been so good for me. Come. Come inside me— I want it painting my insides— want it dripping out of me— want you to fuck it into me— let go, meleth.”
He bursts inside you perfectly on command— hips jerking, unable to hold back (he apologizes, says I’m sorry, I can’t— you tell him it’s fine. That he’s been so good for you, letting you use him like this). It sets you off again, the feeling of him filling you up, flooding you with himself— you’re lightheaded and spinning, rocking your hips, drawing it out as much as you can because it feels so good— the bond between you two snaps white, then gold, as you hurtle together like concentric stars until neither of you know up from down anymore and you have to collapse against his chest.
Elrond’s breathless, shaking all over like a wet branch as he softens inside of you. You can feel his seed dripping out; you’re so full— just the way you both like it.
You kiss the side of his head, and reassure one last time: “You were so good. You did so well for me.” Then, “I’m going to hold you for a bit, then we’ll get you cleaned up. That wasn’t too much?”
He shakes his head, reaching up to run his fingers through your hair. “No, arimelda. Thank you so much.”
You smile and shift. You both have to groan as he slips out of you. Elrond reaches down to scoop up what’s dripped out of you and pushes it back in where it belongs and it makes you ache.
The moon is high, now, filling the room with pale light. You curl around Elrond and hold him for as long as he needs as your bodies cool. Get him some water. Clean him up. And finally, eventually, he drops off to a peaceful, restful sleep.
It isn’t a permenant catharsis, but for now it’s enough.
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sobbingscripter · 1 year
Text
CLARK KENT X READER
WARNING: 18+
MINORS DNI
(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤
Clark Kent x Reader
Tags: [spicy] [hushhushhushblushblushblush] [welp] [petayras]
×××××××
"You know, I don't celebrate Thanksgiving right?"
Y/N's voice was annoyed, to say the least, as she walked behind him, arms crossed over her chest as she surveyed the farm, inhaling the sweet air of wheat and corn and animals.
"I know but I promised Ma that I'd make dinner. And then, I realized that I don't know how to cook a turkey. But my beautiful girlfriend and future wife, definitely knows how. So, here we are."
Clark smiled as he unlocked the door, and only then did she notice that the driveway was empty of the old flame red pick up that the Kent family used.
"So, we're breaking into your parents house so, I can make them dinner? Talk about historical accuracy." She murmured causing him to frown, as he pushed open the door and let her enter first.
"Don't do that. Don't make me feel bad." He spoke, lips pursed and eyebrows low, an expression which resulted in her cracking a smile before pinching his cheek.
"I don't blame you for the way your enslavement is rooted and stitched into your being. Just like you won't blame me for stealing your grandma's ashes after this."
She looked around, noting the pictures and various frames on the wall, all filled with images of Clark's life from before she was even in it.
"Aw, who's the Asian broad? She's pretty cute." Y/N pointed to Clark's prom picture, and watched as he turned from the kitchen, having placed all the ingredients needed on the counters.
"Lana Lang. She was my high school fling." He answered and Y/N made an 'O' shape with her mouth, before looking for other pictures on the wall, any that commemorated a significant moment of his life. So many pictures.
"You know, my parents don't even have pictures of my sibling and I. We're on the walls of their hearts." She stated, before rolling up the sleeves of her shirt and popping her knuckles, eager to get done with the meal and leave.
"Well, when we get married, we can have all the pictures on the walls that you want."
"None of me, though. That big head's got a shit ton of pictures of me in that big ass house. Says it keeps the sanity going." Y/N stated and he laughed loudly, following her into the kitchen before coming to a halt.
A sharp scent pricked his nose, completely unnoticeable for the nose of a human but for a Kryptonian, as easy as the scent of a rose.
Slowly, Clark stepped towards her, watching as she creased her brows, leaning her back against the counter.
"What's wrong, Kent?" She asked, and he stepped closer, watching her crane her neck to meet his gaze, as he cocked a grin.
Barely noticeable, he slipped a thigh between hers, and she gulped.
"We're in your parents house. It's disrespectful." She whispered, heart pounding in her chest but deep down, she knew. She knew he didn't give two shits about respect.
"But you want it, though. The shame of it'll get you right off, wouldn't it, moonshine?"
His voice was low, the deep velvet tenor causing her to inherently shiver, watching as he came closer, hands placed on either side of her, fingers spread evenly on the wooden counter.
Lowering his head to hers, she unconsciously lifted her chin, capturing his lips in a hot, passionate collision.
[04:33] [tired asf]
Tongue running along her bottom lip, Clark's hand moved, from the wooden countertop, to the small of her back, pressing their bodies together. She gasped, shuddering moans escaping from her lips as hand moved down her back, before his fingers effortlessly ripped the back seam of her jeans.
"You son of a- oh my god.." She moaned, brows twitching as he felt her through the thin, flimsy fabric of her underwear, relishing the feel of the dampened cloth on his fingertips.
"Holy shit, bub. Your sweet cunt's darn right dripping." He smiled, his voice low and a husky breath, before moving her underwear aside, slowly pushing his index finger into her sopping cunt.
[Fromdabackfromdabackfromdabackfrodabackfrodabac]
She moaned, finger nails digging into his rippling flesh, skin stretched over a flawless marble carving of the perfect muscle, cords marvelously placed.
He hummed, free hand tipping her chin before lowering his head, placing sloppy kisses down the slope of her neck, rubbing his teeth along the delicate tendon of her shoulder.
"You're so good at taking my fingers." He spoke into the golden flesh, lips burning the words onto her skin as he slowly added another finger into her, the coldness of the band sending a shrill up her back.
His fingers moved at a slow steady pace, a nearly futile attempt at loosening her up, as he massaged her insides.
His free hand, moving from the counter, tangled itself in her hair, strands wrapped perfectly and messily around his elegant fingers.
She felt her insides quiver, and felt heat pool in the pit of her stomach. She felt her toes curl in her slides as she bit back moans and whimpers. She wasn't sure why she felt her climax climbing so quickly, slowly setting her body aflame with each second she tried to fight it back. He wasn't even ghosting the rough patch, but her body quivered. But he had long fingers. Fingers long enough to reach the even deeper spot.
She whimpered, a breathy gasp escaping from her lips, her face buried in his neck as she quivered.
Liquids trickled down his fingers, pooling in the centre of his palm and he cooked an obsidian brow.
"You came so quietly, baby doll." He pulled his fingers out of her, careful not to let any drop onto the magnolia tiles as he brought his fingers to his lips. Running his tongue down the shafts of his fingers, he moaned at the taste that sated his tongue.
His other hand, busy as possible, undid the top button of her jeans, carefully awaiting for her words of refusal. But none.
She stepped out of the puddle that was her pants and undergarments, and by then, Clark was done licking her cum off his fingers.
Lifting her carefully onto the edge of the counter, and parting her legs, Clark lowered himself, dropping to his knees, placing either of his hands on her thighs, pushing them just a bit further.
"Part that pretty pussy for me, won't you, sunshine?" He breathed, peppering rough, messy kisses onto the insides of her thighs, trailing the flesh where her underwear had left impressions.
"Oh my fuck. Now, that's what I call a pretty kitty cat." He shuddered, cerulean orbs locked on the now visible flesh of her cunt, before placing a chaste, sincere kiss on her mound.
"Now, if I may," He met her gaze, glinting at her half-lidded eyes, before pressing his lips to her clit, "eat this pussy like it's breakfast."
She threw her head back, silent moans and breaths escaping her parted lips as his tongue circled the bundle of nerves, eyes lowered and entirely focused on what he was doing. She felt her knees quiver, her thighs about to snap shut if it weren't for his hands keeping them apart.
He traced the nerves of her, traced the subtle and invisible arteries, his tongue pinpoint and perfectly applying pressure to her throbbing heat.
She let out a shuddering moan, eyes doe-y as she entangled her fingers in his hair, and tousled the onyx strands. He flicked the flesh, tongue curling as he explored her folds, licking each of them clean of any residue from her cum.
Her thighs tensed, and he felt the muscle contract under his palms, internally gloating at the physical reaction he had rendered from her.
"You taste even fucking better than last time. And you smell so fucking sweet." He moaned, a desperate rasp escaping his gullet and she moaned, teeth digging into her bottom lip to keep vocalisation quiet.
He pursed his lips, placing an open mouth kiss on the reddened flesh before lifting his eyes, as his tongued swirled fast, lapping and licking. She felt hot, and needy, and his cock twitched at the expression painted on her reddened face.
A mixture of embarrassment and pleasure was an expression that was enough to turn him into a cum-leaking slut, if it was on her face. And it was.
His cock was rock hard in his pants, bulge evident and he tried to ignore the hot precum that leaked from the slit. But he couldn't. He had the deep desire to breed her, repeatedly, pounding her full of cum and cock, but not yet.
He sucked and tongue fucked, before opening his mouth and trailing his tongue down, to the leaking entrance.
Pushing his tongue into her, her back arched, fingers wavering as her hand shook, his tongue curling inside her.
She mewled, her stomach caving as he added two fingers into her, once his tongue had left the hole. He pumped, fingers curling against the rough textures cells and whimpered, her mouth quivering with want and pleasure.
His opened his mouth wide, tongue outstretched and hanging out of his mouth, before he converted it into a vibrating blur. She felt her body turn to static, her mind emptying of all thoughts and came with a hushed cry, her hand covering her mouth in an attempt to stifle.
Quickly, he dove his tongue into her, lapping up the liquid like a thirsting mutt as he quickly undid the zipper of his jeans.
Pulling away from her, he helped her into her jeans, hiding the underwear from view and shoving it into her pocket once she looked away, too dazed to notice.
"Clarky, are you in here?" Mrs Kent's voice was enough to snap Y/N back to the here and now, and her eyes widened at Clark.
"Yea, ma! Y/N's just busy with the turkey." He answered, watching as Y/N took the defrosted turkey out of its protective seal, and began to inspect it of any out of the ordinary things.
Nearly, all sides and things had been made at the house before they showed up, except for the turkey and dessert. But luckily, Mrs Kent already handled the puddings and cakes, so Y/N was left with the turkey.
"Are you two gonna come out or should we come in?" Mr Kent.
"No, Dad. Y/N's really busy with the cooking and she's exactly like you with football. So it'll mess up her game to move around." Clark lied, pumping his cock sloppily while Y/N chopped and diced things to make the stuffing.
"Oh okay, honey! We'll be in the living room if you need anything!" Mrs Kent called out and Clark nodded his head, before stepping to Y/N, kicking apart her legs.
"Are you fucking insane? Your parents are in the living room." She hissed, looking over her shoulder and not paying any mind to the way she chopped. "And hard of hearing. What's your point?" He asked, placing his hand on her back and she involuntarily arched it, internally hating herself for being so used to his quirks and habits.
"What if they come in here?" She whispered, her eyes already trained on the kitchen door and he placed a kiss on the base of her neck.
"The only person coming in here, is gonna be me and you. Now, you better keep quiet like you've been doing such a good job with, otherwise, my parents'll come in here and see you mimicking the turkey." He spoke and she creased her brows. He always spoke long stories.
Sighing heavily, he gripped her chin and forced her to meet his eyes, before glowering, "Shut the fuck up or my parents are gonna watch you get stuffed."
That was easier to understand.
She held her breath, the feel of his cock stretching her was slow and almost uncomfortable, as a low, sigh escaped his lips.
"Keep cooking, pumpkin. Don't wanna make em wait too... long.." He breathed heavy, breath hot and chest heaving, hands tight gripping her flesh above the hem of her jeans, fingers digging into her slightly pudgy stomach.
"You're so... fucking... tight.." He groaned, voice hushed and strained, cock thrusting into her in deep, slow strokes.
She squirmed, hands shaking as she slowly opened a cabinet door, taking out every spice needed with unsteady hands and weak legs. Biting into her bottom lip, she began seasoning the defrosted turkey, hands sliding over the smooth, damp flesh.
[Why is the turkey preparation so sexy already?]
Sliding his hand down the front of her torso, he unbuttoned the top of her jeans, and ran his fingers between her slick folds, coating them in her liquids. Before circling the sensitive bud of flesh, causing her to write against him.
"Kent," She panted, soft whimpers escaping her lips as she tried, and failed, to prepare the turkey.
"Clarkie! Do you two need any help in the kitchen?"
Mrs Kent's voice was loud, the sound causing Y/N's eyes to widen, at the sound of her voice and the speedy increase of Clark's circling fingers and pounding.
She moaned, before her voice strained, his other hand lightly clutching her throat, angling her head and placing a sloppy kiss on her lips. "You're so. Fucking. Good." He growled, before clearing his throat.
"No, ma! We're doing okay!" He yelled back, before taking a glance at the turkey, before humming.
"You should probably put that in the oven, bub." He whispered, pulling his liquid coated cock out of her and watching her put the lightly marinaded bird in the oven, setting the timer.
Before she could lift herself, his hand gripped the back of her neck, forcing her to remain with her hands on the handlebar of the oven, praying to God that it could support the speeding thrusts of his cock, pounding into her sopping and quivering cunt.
"You feel so good, babydoll."
He growled, the feel of his body rocking against her core sent her over the edge, and with a muffled sob, she came, legs quivering as liquids dribbled down her inner thighs.
Feeling her walls tighten around his already twitching cock, he moaned, his thrusts becoming sloppier and messy, as he came.
Filling her insides with the pearly liquid, Clark kept pounding, cum dripping out of her with each pull out and milking his own cock, using her insides to his completion.
"Holy... fuck..." He murmured, his voice a mumbling mess as he pulled out of her, cock soaked in their liquids.
***
"This looks delicious, Y/N."
Mr Kent's voice warm, but she could still feel a bit of distaste for her seep into his tone, although, it was welcome at this point.
She just got annihilated in the kitchen of senior citizens.
"Thank you, Mr Kent."
'God, I'm so ashamed.'
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