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#that spun me out something awful
s0fter-sin · 3 months
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i had an eye test done a few days ago and one of the tests gave me mad vertigo, it only lasted a few minutes but i still have a major headache and nausea and it flares up when i’m scrolling. obviously the answer is to get off my phone but it’s making me think of the march that shall not be named when i couldn’t look at fucking anything and ya girl is getting nervous
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anguis-sapphire · 1 year
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I’m starting to wonder if that “don’t pay attention to negative thoughts after 9pm (or after it gets dark)” thingy can apply to physical health as well because my current unspecified end-of-winter illness has been a LOT worse since the sun went down
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2kiran · 27 days
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FRANCIS MOSSES 交易 ── `` DARK CONTENT﹕monsterfucking. top amab reader. doppelgänger francis. handjob. no protection + preparation. overstimulation. ✶ IN WHICH you unknowingly let the wrong francis inside.
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the prospect of you being fired—or worse, being put in a cell—was incredibly likely. enthusiasm of the milkman’s arrival being your final entry request for the day lead to your upcoming demise.
it shouldn’t be on you, both the blame and responsibility. the given identity document had indistinguishable information, merely an artist’s mistake as you finally realize that his eyebrows were just a tad thicker. his eyes were a bit too lively for the real francis.
realization dawned on you a second too late as you feel cold, but strangely simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar hands grab you from behind. before you could reach the rotary phone to contact the D.D.D., he grabbed your wrist and spun your chair around to face him.
francis, or so you thought, had a gentle smile plastered on his face but you knew better to tell that his intentions were far from truly kind. “don’t tell me you were actually going to let them kill me,” your jaw tightened, gaze hardening into a glare. he chuckled, hands landing on the armrests, so dangerously close to yours that were balled in fists to prevent yourself from punching his face.
when you didn’t respond, he continued. leaning in as he shook his head with a scoff, “aw, c’mon. . .we both know that you’re too much of a good sweetheart, yeah? please don’t try that again.” his saccharine voice was improbable, a subtle take of a threat behind his tone.
“you’re gullible enough to think i’d do that for you.” the tension between you was palpable, a thin thread that threatened to break at the tip of his finger. his lips pouted, sadness in his untrue eyes. “me? but you’re the one who let me in here,” he laughed, tone rather arrogant, “and i should thank you for that.”
if he were the real francis, you probably would have been making out with him by now. this doppelgänger was awfully confident, you wish you could break him. see tears fall down to his round cheeks, lips trembling as pleas tumbled out of his pretty lips.
these thoughts were idiotic. but fuck, he was near enough to the milkman, the clueless neighbor who could care less about it all. “want me to spare you? or—” you cut him off, lips connecting with his. francis was surprised, but welcomed it nonetheless. his hand came up to your neck, sliding towards your hair. groaning as he gently, almost experimentally, tugged at it. tongue met tongue, a clash of saliva and mess. you bit onto his bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan.
“mmph, and here i thought you hated me.” he grinned, panting, “what gave you that idea?” you place a kiss on his chin, “because you tried to get rid of me, and the fact that. . .i’m not him.” grabbing his hips, he let out a yelp. he scrambled to hold onto your shoulders for dear life, gasping when he felt your teeth graze against his neck. “seems like i’ve struck a nerve, hu—haah, fuck!”
a lewd moan had escaped him, your teeth sinking into his flesh. it was far from gentle, biting him like you wanted to see him bleed. he was simply a doppelgänger that you stupidly let in, after all.
the pink muscle settled in your mouth lapped at the bite, cueing francis to whimper at the sensation. he moved closer on your lap, grinding against your crotch. the action could’ve been mistaken for something relating to a dog; for he seemed like a bitch in heat. quite uncharacteristic for his kind. “you’re pathetic, mosses.”
francis, beyond belief, was affected by the use of the stolen surname more than you anticipated. his hips trembled, “that’s, haah, not my fault. you made me like this. fucking a– ah! doppelgänger, really? they’d surely co– come for you next.” his cock twitched, spilling pre-cum that formed a wet patch on his boxers. you were a lowly human, another one to get rid of, so why does he feel this way?
silence was met with his words. not until you pull down his pants, taking off what was left until his lower half was bare to you. “oh yeah? you’re letting me fuck you,” your fingers wrapped around the base of his dick, giving a single stroke, “you’re not even trying to fight back against me, honey.”
he whined, beginning to selfishly rut into your palm. “what were you going to say?” francis doesn’t respond and you twist your wrist, a cry slipping from him. you asked on a whim, wishing to hear what he planned besides allowing you to carry on with your life. “i-i don’t know!” your thumb presses down on his slit, causing him to wrack his brain to remember. “ah, ah, i meant to ask if you wa- want me to kill you right he— hmmng!” his voice wobbled as if he was fearful, tears in his eyes and he’s suddenly ethereal.
“do you still want to do that? to end my life?”
“no, no, please, i didn’t mean it.”
you tease the vein that ran on his shaft, never failing to witness the face he makes when he’s within the depths of pleasure; of that high he never dared to reach. oh, if only if it was francis mosses. the real one, the one you’re so curious about, the one who your eyes like to linger on a bit too long for comfort. your pace picks up, palm slick with his pre-cum and the room’s sinful with his sobs and arousal.
francis moans under his breath, “i’m cumming-!” he warns a second too late, hips bucking as the familiar fluid splatters across your fingers. the doppelgänger was your very own legendary mona lisa with how his face is painted with all shades of red.
when you swipe your thumb over his tip, he swore he had a glimpse of the deity he didn’t have the conscience to worship.
beliefs were foolish; it was his opinion. with that, he thought you were the one insane. doppelgängers aren’t flawed with such imperfections like humans are. he didn’t need to be prepared for situations similar to this, and you used his inhumanity for your pleasure.
“ughm, agh!” you had wordlessly given your cock a few pumps, no more than that before slipping inside of his tight hole. the tiniest beginning of guilt threatened to engulf you with shame, but why should you allow it? his mere purpose and intention was to murder.
his hole spasmed around you, freely welcoming the intrusion. maybe they were quite useful after all. he whined, his insides tingling with the stretch. the doppelgänger has never felt so full, or genuinely anything, for that matter. “please—fuck, move already, damnit.” he, himself, was breathless.
how could you deny him?
your hands grasped his hips tightly, like you wanted to indent a marking into his flesh. cold emanated from your palms, contrasting to the heat licking at his cheeks. he’s lighter than you’d expect, hole gripping you as if he was a fleshlight. lifting him up, your tip was held onto. heavenly; as the way he wrapped around you was undeniably heavenly.
sensing his apparent impatience, you let him crash down on you. a broken gasp-of-a-moan occupied the air, globs of pre-cum building on his slit. “yeah, fuck me like that,” he breathed, instructions hazily clear to your sex-deprived brain. his ass slapped, slapped, slapped against you. shit, the D.D.D. surely ought to give you a punishment worse than death for this.
he clung onto you, both with his arms and entrance. you don’t think you could really get enough—as vague as this memory could get. your tip brushes against his prostate with each harsh thrust, slick sounds adding onto the cotton pressed into his little head, forming static and nothing else to focus on besides your cock pounding into him. “you’re liking this- ahngm! right? like how good i feel? haa, needed your dick in me s’ bad. . .”
he pushed his hips forward, grinding on your cock as he purposely clenched. “thaaaat’s it, sweetheart. think ‘m gonna keep you.”
yeah, let’s hope your neighbors forgive you for indulging in him.
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masterlist﹒divider﹒artist kaworinx
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demonic0angel · 1 month
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Celestial Bodies AU (maybe part 1/?)
Superman flew through space, eying the new galaxy that he and Batman had discovered the night before.
“So? What does it look like?” Batman asked him through the communications.
“Well…” Superman looked around. “It’s definitely weird. It has an enormous cluster of stars, but I’m not feeling stronger…”
“What? Are you saying that the radiation isn't working?"
"The stars here are all white stars or above, but they don't make me feel stronger. Actually... I think I'm feeling weaker too. Something is definitely wrong here."
Batman was quiet for only a moment before he asked, "Are you in any current danger? Can you defend yourself?"
"No, I'm fine. I don't sense any living beings around me. I can defend myself." Superman understood what Batman was trying to say. "Are you asking me to stay and continue observing?"
"If you can."
"Of course. I'll stay and continue investigating."
"Thank you," Batman said softly and Superman smiled at that.
"Don't sweat it! Let me get the receiver."
Superman pulled out the device that allowed him to connect to radio signals from space, and began turning it on. However, the moment it turned to life, the radio began to malfunction, short circuiting and turning into static as it shook itself. Superman nearly tossed it away before suddenly, it was normal again.
And then, the signal began to pick up.
And it began to sing.
Superman stared wide eyed as a symphony of music and singing came through the radio. It was a little choir of humming and barely audible voices, sounding as though they were underwater. Still, it was undeniably beautiful, like something heard from heaven.
"Batman," Superman said, hushed, "are you hearing this?"
"... yes."
"It's amazing! Are these stars making these sounds?" Superman continued flying, observing the blue and yellow stars, each radiating a heat that could not power him. He continued flying, listening to the ethereal song that called for listeners.
He hadn't been paying attention when he felt an ever sensed blistering heat and a force beginning to drag him forward. He turned his head and his eyes widened again before he cursed and flew a little distance away.
"Superman? What is it?"
"Batman, turn on your visuals," he said as he turned on the camera.
There was silence before Superman heard the barely audible click and then a buzz of a camera. The camera was attached to Superman and it would send the views back to Batman, allowing him to see just what Superman was freaking out over. When it turned on, Batman was silent for a moment, clearly as confused as Superman was feeling.
"... tell me what I'm seeing."
"A quasar, a protostar that is possibly becoming a blue star, a neutron star, and a black hole all coexisting right next to each other. As well as several planets all circling them like stars."
Superman watched the scene with a sense of both interest, awe, and horrified confusion.
The scene in front of him just wasn't possible. Not only would a black hole consume everything around it, there was already a quasar nearby doing the same thing with an even stronger force. However, the protostar and neutron star were fine even though they were so close, along with the few planets. The planetary nebula around the neutron star circled around each celestial object in an assembly line, flowing from the neutron star to the black hole to the quasar and then to the protostar. If the nebula wasn't taken by one celestial object, it was passed onto another.
Most of the nebula seemed to be absorbed by the quasar and protostar, but the two of them seemed to coexist in peace. The neutron star continued to spin and the black hole surrendered most of the nebula to its neighbors. The planets also spun peacefully, a few even had rings that were not taken by the quasar or black hole.
It was like only foreign objects, like Superman himself, would be absorbed.
It was fascinating. Like they were alive and knew how to live with one another.
Superman explained it to Batman in detail. Batman was silent before he said, "This shouldn't be possible. How could this occur? Unless there was some sort of external force that is keeping each astronomical object to themselves and prevents them from destroying each other, there's no way this could be a natural occurrence."
"Are you suggesting that this is man-made?"
"How could it be anything but? Aren't you listening to singing right now?"
Superman raised the receiver and the singing on the other side continued without pause, a constant symphony of voices.
"... you could be right. Do you want to try and make contact?"
"Yes. Send back a signal."
Superman pressed a few buttons on the receiver to send a radio message back and in an instant, the singing died down, leaving only a faint crackling and a water-like noise.
Biting the bullet, Superman then spoke into the receiver.
"Hello. My name is Superman, and I come from the Milky Way galaxy. I am a kryptonian from the planet Earth. I wish to peacefully connect with you, whoever you are."
More crackling.
Batman cursed softly in his ear and Superman winced, already feeling that he was too impulsive. However, just as he was about to backtrack and escape from this particular galaxy, there was a whispered, shuddery, "Hello."
Superman blinked and then called out, "H-Hello!"
There was silence again, only that underwater staticky noise coming through.
"Can I take this as you accepting my peace offering?"
"... yes."
The sound that came from the receiver seemed to come from many, all joining together into one.
There was a hitched gasp and then Batman hissed, "Keep talking! Ask them questions! Ask them if they want to make contact with us or if we can form an alliance!"
Superman nodded to himself and spoke into the receiver, "Can you see me?"
"We see you."
Superman paused and then continued in stride, "I'm sorry, but I can't see you. Can you show yourself?"
"In front of you."
There was nothing but the strange collection of celestial objects. Unless there was someone inside? It could be possible, but Superman hadn't detected anyone living around him for awhile now.
"Uh, I'm sorry, but—"
"In front of you."
Batman then said through the communicator, "Superman, the neutron star!"
The neutron star in front of him then began to spin faster and faster, before lighting up into a pulsar in the very next second.
Superman was stunned at the sight, as the radiation emitting from the neutron star passed over him over and over and over, radiating with a cold burn that resonated through his bones and made his limbs weak. The impossibly quick change from a regular neutron star into a pulsar only made him even more frightened as the radio signals made the receiver scream.
"We are here." The crackling voices said again, all as one.
Superman flew backwards, his breath caught in his throat.
"Superman?! Why did you go backwards?" Batman demanded.
Superman flinched and then he said softly, "Sorry. Instinct."
It was true. The fear that had entered his body had made him instinctively retreat. It was even worse than looking death in the eye. It was like the feeling of knowing the End of All, of knowing that your existence would be wiped out, of knowing that resistance would be futile and that your death wouldn't even be enough to save the ones you loved.
His heart pounded as he flew a little closer, enough to feel the heat from the quasar again and almost reluctantly said into the receiver, "Are you the neutron star?"
"We are all what you see in front of you."
"'We'? Are all of you speaking to me?"
The neutron star pulsed again, spinning just a little faster like before.
"I am the King. And these are my family."
The voice than switched out, a barely noticeable change in the difference because it was all the same voices speaking as one. However, now a different voice was leading.
"Ask your questions, Son of Jor-El. What do you seek?"
Superman's eyes widened. Then after a moment of silence, he said, "I am here to explore the universe and find protection for the planet I live on. Could you help us?"
"We are but objects in the sky. We will only answer questions."
Batman interrupted. "Ask them if they can see the future and if anything will happen to Earth."
Superman explained to the collection of celestial bodies, "This is my colleague and partner, Batman. We work together for Earth's safety."
"We know. He is the best of you."
There was silence from both Superman and Batman. Superman was stunned, but he also couldn't help but smile. "Yes, that is true. Can you see the future? Can you tell us if any dangers will be coming to earth."
Another voice came to life, taking the lead in speaking. "We can. Whatever comes, you and your Justice League can handle it."
Superman could hear Batman breathe a sigh of relief. Superman felt the same and he placed a hand on his heart as he gave a sigh of relief as well. "Thank goodness." Before Batman said anything, Superman asked, "Could you tell us more about yourself? How do you have a consciousness?"
The radio crackled and popped for a little while before the first voice, the one who called themself 'King' spoke up.
"We were like you once. But then I became a legend."
"Like me?" Superman asked.
Batman then said, "Ask them if they were human."
"Were you human?"
More silence.
And then—
"Yes."
Superman's eyes widened and he couldn't help but gasp in shock, a hand flying to his mouth as he stared at the celestial bodies in front of him, all of which used to be human. These enormous objects that used to be human, now forced to succumb to emptiness and spin in space without pause.
"Are... are you okay? We have magic users in our team, maybe we can offer you help?" Superman asked.
Batman hissed in the comms, "Superman! We don't even know them!"
The receiver crackled some more and the voice changed again. The sound of them being underwater seemed louder than ever.
"We are fine, Son of Jor-El. We are happy."
The person speaking switched to someone new.
"Ask your questions and then leave." The receiver quieted again. And then they spoke, "My little sister needs her rest for her rebirth."
Superman's eyes flicked over to the protostar, which was still absorbing most of the nebula. The only thing that could have possibly been 'reborn' was the protostar, as it needed to heat itself to start the transition to become a main sequence star. Was that one the little sister?
"Just two more questions, if that's alright." He could hear Batman's deep, frustrated sigh. He probably had more questions but was frustrated by Superman's curtesy and his lack of scientific curiosity. Superman knew he was annoyed but he felt an odd camaraderie with the celestial objects. He didn't want to anger them if necessary.
"Speak."
"How old are you? And will you help us again in the future?"
The receiver crackled.
The voice changed once more. "We are all far, far, far older than you imagine. Time does not work for us like other stars."
The speaker switched again. "But in human years, we have not reached our adult ages yet."
The honest confession made Superman's eyes widen, especially as he realized what they meant.
A bunch of children had turned into stars and black holes before they were even adults?
Superman was suddenly starkly reminded of Robin, Batman's sidekick, one of the very few children that he knew in their line of business. By Batman's silence, he was probably thinking along the same lines.
"Speak your last question and leave."
"Can the Justice League depend on you for further help and assistance in the future? I would like to come back if I can."
"Our King was once a hero too. Come if you need it."
That was when the quasar sent out a flare, the gases and planetary nebula around it rubbing against each other hard enough to send sparks Superman's way. It was clearly a warning, especially as the neutron star began spinning rapidly again, radiation beginning to light the air around him in a devastating chill.
"Leave," They all chorused.
Superman immediately turned away without hesitation. "Thank you very much! I will come again!"
The receiver did not speak again. Instead, the songs restarted and the voices continued to sing a song that he could not recognize. It was ethereal, if not haunting.
Superman was smiling as he left. Batman was silent in his ear and Superman finally asked, "So? What do you think?"
"... I think we need more information."
"You're just feeling soft because they said they were heroes and were also children," Superman teased.
"How do you know they weren't lying?" Batman sounded angry.
However, Superman wasn't concerned and only laughed. "Lying? For what? They could definitely rip me apart if they wanted. They even had a baby star with them."
"Hnn." The old softie definitely suddenly had a moment of heartache from remembering the baby star.
Superman glanced behind himself, where the fascinating cluster of stars, planets, and black holes all existed in harmony together. The quasar and neutron star lit the way alongside the other stars and the tiny galaxy grew smaller and smaller as Superman flew away.
Whatever this galaxy actually was, Superman would be glad if they could find the help they needed and helped the Justice League in turn.
".... let's come back in a month," Batman said, sounding like it was pulled out from his teeth.
It was good that Batman felt the same way.
Perhaps the next time Superman came, he could chat some more with this little galaxy?
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I did so much research for this, it's crazy 😭
Dan is the black hole and Danny is the neutron star. The reason is that both of them are technically star corpses (a large or high-mass collapsed or dead star can either result in nothing, a black hole, or a neutron star) and while Dan consumes everything around him, Danny is a remnant of a star before him. The planetary nebula that came from Danny going supernova is consumed by his siblings, mostly Jazz or Dani. Dan and Danny don't fight over it bc they love their sisters.
Dani is a protostar, which is also a baby star. I hc that she used to be a star before, but she's just restarting her rebirth until she becomes a black hole or a neutron star like her siblings :3
Jazz is a quasar, which is a different type of black hole, (inspired by this post I made). She and Danny light the way for their little galaxy.
Tucker and Sam are also there, as planets! They used to be stars but they're reborn as planets this time. Tucker is a desert planet with several Saturn-like rings of metals and sand. Sam is a terrestrial planet and is capable of life. All that's on her is plants and animals tho (they haven't gotten enough time to evolve yet). The rest of the crew (Valerie, Wes, etc) are also there and are planets. They never really reach the level of stars tho.
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calcifiedunderland · 8 months
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Shrimply Yours~
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In which you invoke your shrimp privileges to cheer Floyd up.
Floyd x GN Reader! Enjoy, shrimpies!!~
—————
“Y’know Floyd, I’d say you’re the shrimp, not me.”
Maybe you really did have a death-by-squeezing wish. Or maybe your plot-armor protection had finally worn off. The eel in question lifted his head slowly at your words and side-eyed you, his golden eye glinting ominously in the Mostro Lounge kitchen’s light.
You’d been washing the dishes after asking Azul for a job in exchange for a little extra madol on the side. For the most part, your day had been as peaceful as it could’ve (the life of a magicless prefect was always maniacal), until you heard arguing from outside the kitchen. You all but jumped when Floyd slammed the door open and wordlessly stalked to the stove, and you spotted Azul walking off shaking his head to himself. Floyd shoved pan on the heat and began frying something, completely ignoring your presence. Was it even possible to fry chicken so aggressively?
In any case, Floyd seemed a little more volatile than usual at the moment, even considering it was him. The other students who’d been in the kitchen with you before had scuttled out before Floyd could snap at them too. But in any case, you knew that Floyd’s mood flipped faster than Crowley leaving all his work to you. So, you thought you’d try to lighten the mood.
At your words, Floyd slowly brought his head up from his deep-frying, golden-and-olive colored eyes zeroing in on you, baring his sharp, shiny teeth at you in a scowl. And in that split second, you suddenly remembered that Floyd was, in fact, a mer-eel. Moray, specifically. A predator. A predator that probably ate shrimpies like you. Who was now looking at you predatorily.
“What did ya just say, shrimpy?” His pupils were practically pin-pricks, and for a moment you swore you could hear the Jaws theme song in your head. You could remember, time and time again, your friends and upperclassmen telling you not to engage Floyd when he was in one of his moods. Even up until now, you’d never been on the awful end of his anger, especially alone. But you weren’t called beast-tamer for nothing, damn it, and maybe that title could extend to taming angry Floyd’s too. An angry Floyd that was still your friend.
“I said, you’re the shrimp, not me.” You maintained eye-contact with him, almost challenging him, ‘come at me, bro.’ You tried to keep a straight face, although you were deflating rapidly by the second because by Sevens this was so stupid but-
“Because you’re shrimply amazing.”
One second passed. Two. Three.
Then Floyd broke into a wide, sharp-toothed grin. He surged towards you, completely forgetting the frying food. “D’awww, SHRIMPY!!!”
He swooped behind you, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up. Your legs flailed around and now your arms were locked in as Floyd spun around the kitchen haphazardly with you in his arms. “Shrimpy knows just how to cheer me up! I knew this is why I kept you around!” He laughed cheerily, bobbing you up and down.
“FLOYD!” You cried, “PUT ME DOWN-“ the kitchen swirled crazily around you, as Floyd babbled some song or other cheerfully. Thankfully he’d stopped spinning, but began shaking you side to side while humming, “Shrimpy’s so brave n’ nice, all the other guppies left when they saw me but only Shrimpy stayed!”
He started pouting, and squished his cheek into yours. “Azul was bein’ mean to me, making me work now. Just ‘cause I roughed up a few customers doesn’t mean it was my fault! They shoulda been nice to me~”
Even though you were basically suspended in the air by him, you smiled at Floyd’s words. “Glad I could help Floyd, that was so mean of Azul,” you consoled him, hoping he’d put you down. He bent over until your feet were safely on the sweet, sweet ground, but didn’t let you go from his arms. The two of you swayed together, basking in each other’s company in the subpar lighting of the kitchen, until you frowned.
“…Hey, is something burning?”
“Ah shit, I burned the chicken.”
———
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selineram3421 · 2 months
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*friend comes up with something*
Royally Pissed
Part 1
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Prologue
Alastor X Morningstar Reader
Warnings ⚠
⚠ Italics=thoughts, implied/suggestive *cough* bedroom name ⚠
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In all honesty, Alastor didn't know why he did it but it just happened.
He pulled the small blonde out of the way, holding them close to his chest as a large dust cloud came from the now broken chandelier.
Mostly everyone in the room coughed as they tried to clear the dust from themselves.
"Are you hurt?", he asked them, noticing that the top of their head barely reached his chin.
How small.
"I'm fine.", they turned away to cough. "That was a lot of dust.."
Before he could ask for their name again, they were suddenly pulled away by none other than the King, Lucifer.
"ALRIGHT THEN!", he said before pulling them towards Charlie.
Haha!
The blonde slid over to his daughter, bringing along his other child as he began.
Looks like you could use some help
From the big boss of Hell himself
He held Charlie close before pushing her to see him sitting on a throne with fire rising behind it.
Check out daddy's glowing reviews on Yelp
He sang, scrolling on his hellphone to show her the reviews.
(Five star! Flawless! Greater than great!)
Three puppets said one after the other.
Oh, with the punch of a pentagram
A wap-bam-boom! Alakazam!
Alastor rolled his eyes as he watched on, but then he was suddenly pouring wine into a glass.
Who needs a busboy, now that you've got the chef?
The deer demon was pulled by the waist and landed in a pan, ears folded back as he angrily smiled at the King who grinned evily before he was flipped onto his front.
(Wow~)
I'm going to kill him.. Alastor thought before lifting himself up.
.
You were pulled into song and at the moment, were now sitting at a dinner table with your sister as your father was dressed like a server, hand about to reveal a meal.
Michelin-tasting menu
He lifted up the silver cloche, revealing a a "decapitated" Alastor, then some tentacles with red eyeballs, and finally a cake with him holding Alastor's head.
Free à la catre!
Oook.. You cringed. Dad doesn't like Alastor.
I'll rig the game for you because I'm the ref!
He started focusing more on Charlie and started to make more things appear.
Champagne fountains, caviar mountains, that's just the start~!
And then Alastor jumped in with blacklight, his backgrounds looking vibrant.
Who's been here since day one?
The deer demon pushed your father away, making him spin out of song.
Who's been faithful as a nun?
He was suddenly dressed as a nun, holding his hands in a praying position.
Much like how your father changed his scenes quickly, so did Alastor. You were having some trouble keeping up with it. His appearance looking slightly different with the lighting, his irises now green.
I'm truly honored that we've built such a bond
"Aw.", Charlie smiled.
He was now at the top of the stairs with your sister.
You're like the child that I wish that had
Alastor cupped your sister's face,
"Uh, what?", your dad said shocked.
Then your sister was like a child tucked in bed, literally. Alastor sitting at the edge and patting her head.
I care for you, just like a daughter I spawned
"Hold on now!", your father lifted up a finger.
The deer demon suddenly leaned his elbow on top of your dad's head, smooshing the white top hat.
It's a little funny
He started and pulled your sister to face away from your father.
You could almost call me Dad!
Suddenly you pulled into the song and were spun into a dip, finding Alastor smiling down at you with a seductive gaze.
(You can call me Daddy~), he whisper sang to you.
Your face turned bright red as you let out a squeak.
.
How adorable~ His smile widened as he saw them hide their blushing red face with their hands.
Now this one was on purpose.
After seeing the immediate reaction Lucifer had with him touching them. Oh, he had to cross multiple lines to see what the man would do next.
They were practically shaking in his hands, no doubt a little overwhelmed with what he had just sang just for their ears alone.
Let's see if I can fluster them more. He thought and raised a hand towards their face.
Suddenly they were ripped out of his hold and it was just the two men on stage.
The King growled, face darkening before he began to angrily play a fiddle, walking up to him with a scowl.
Alastor just smiled, standing up straight with his hands behind his back. Taking a step back as he dropped a piano on the short King before taking a seat on the piano bench, playing it confidently and showing off his skills before cringing at a loud sound.
His piano solo interrupted by an accordion.
Looking behind him, he saw Lusifer holding the instrument above his head with a frown, playing just one long note.
Really? He thought with a raised brow.
The two glared at each other before the spotlights above the two flickered out.
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*me and my friend holding back our laughter* We can't laugh! It's 2 am!
~Seline, the person.
Part 2
Taglist@
@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @gallantys @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @valenfawkes @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @+?
Taglist continued in the comments🔪
ML II for Alastor🎙 | RP ChL 👑
1K notes · View notes
oscalesoffeeling · 1 year
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*out of breath, incredibly worn out from bodily aches and pains* huffie.
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chvoswxtch · 4 months
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teach me
pairing: frank castle x fem!reader
summary: you want frank to teach you self defense, but it doesn't quite go the way you expected.
warnings: swearing, some angst, mentions of guns, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
word count: 8.3k
a/n: what better way to end this year and start the new one than with our favorite hot bodyguard. don't ask me how many times I watched that scene with him and amy. it was for science. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
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“You’re being a dick.”
“Hey, you said you wanted to learn.”
“You’re still being a dick.”
“Yeah yeah, you ain’t gettin’ no sympathy from me, sweetheart. Now c’mon, try again.”
It was a good thing the cabin was isolated in the middle of the woods, because if anyone had been looking in the living room window at that very moment, they would’ve definitely called the police in horror. Frank had a gun in his right hand that was trained on you, and while he wore a neutral expression on his face, your brows were furrowed in pure annoyance and there was a faint scowl on your lips.
Letting out a huff of irritation, you kept your eyes focused on the gun in Frank’s hand, getting back into somewhat of a fighting stance again. Clenching your hands open and closed a few times, your teeth sank down into your bottom lip before you suddenly rushed forward in an endeavor to take the gun out of his hand. 
But just like he had done the past seven times you tried this, Frank easily managed to block your attempt. He grabbed your wrist in his free hand and spun you around swiftly, pulling you back firmly against his chest while a deep chuckle sounded right next to your ear.
“That was real cute.”
Letting go of you, Frank took a step back and lightly pressed at the back of your knee with the heel of his boot, sending you down to your knees below him. He decided to take it a step further and used the toe of his boot to gently shove at your ass, causing your hands to fly out to catch yourself, rendering you on all fours in front of him. Turning to narrow your eyes at him over your shoulder, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth let you know that was very intentional.
“You know, if you wanted me on my knees, all you had to do was ask.”
“That right?”
Grumbling a string of curses under your breath, you pushed yourself back up onto your feet and turned around to shoot a death glare in Frank’s direction. His plush lips instantly parted into a crooked grin while he looked at you, cocking his head to the side slightly while his eyes twinkled in amusement.
“Aw, what’s wrong baby, hm?”
“I already told you, you’re being a dick. You’re supposed to be teaching me-”
“Then why don’t you quit actin’ like you know everythin’ and start askin’ questions, yeah?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know what questions to ask? I asked you to teach me. Teach me means tell me what to do.”
“And when have you ever done what I told ya to?”
As you opened your mouth to protest, Frank arched one of his thick brows and shot you a pointed look, and your rebuttal quickly died on your tongue. You did have a history of ignoring his instructions completely and doing whatever you wanted anyway. With that in mind, you let out a deep exhale through your nose and crossed your arms over your chest.
“Okay, that’s…fair. But this is completely out of my area of expertise. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never even held a gun until four days ago. And for the record, when it comes to something serious, I do listen to you. This is serious, and I’m listening.”
Originally when you asked Frank to teach you self defense with a gun, he was completely against it. He made the argument that with him around, you wouldn’t have to worry about that, to which you reminded him of the incident where two people tried to kill you in your own home where you had nothing to protect yourself with and no knowledge of how to in the first place. 
The two of you went back and forth about it for at least an hour. He made the case that it was a one time incident that would never happen again, and argued that nothing was ever going to happen to you in the first place anyway because he showed up to take care of it. You argued back that Frank wouldn’t be by your side twenty-four seven anymore and would eventually be assigned to someone else, possibly taking him far away for extended periods of time.
In the end, you wore him down like you usually did until he gave in and you got your way.
Frank took in the impatient and stubborn expression covering your features, the one he had become all too familiar with and grown to adore. You were a force to be reckoned with when you wanted something, just as much as he was. Even though he didn’t want you to ever have a reason to use a gun, he would rather know you were safe and could handle yourself in his absence if it came down to it. 
“Alright, alright. Wipe that pout off your face and c’mere.”
Doing your best to conceal your tiny smile of victory, you went to stand in front of Frank, but he held his large hand out to stop you and motioned for you to move back a little.
“Keep your distance, okay? You don’t wanna be too close. Now, step one.”
Frank reached out to grab your wrist and brought your hand up towards the barrel of the gun, placing his large hand on top of your own and squeezing gently to signal for you to grab onto it. Once he felt your tight grip on the barrel, he slid his hand over to grab onto your forearm and pushed against it, which caused the gun in his right hand to shift directions. It was no longer aimed at you, but pointed at the wall to your left.
“You wanna take the gun offline, yeah? Look.”
Glancing up at him briefly, you nodded to show him that you were paying attention. When he pulled your arm back in the position it was before, aiming the gun at you once again, you quickly redirected your focus back to his large hands. To reiterate what he was trying to explain to you, Frank repeated his demonstration two more times to make sure you understood.
“Offline, right? Offline, right? And push hard, as hard as you can.”
While Frank’s eyes were locked on you as he demonstrated the first step, you were studying his movements, committing every detail to memory. It seemed simple enough in theory so far. Keep your distance, grab the barrel of the gun, and push it away from yourself hard. When he let go of your arm, you let go of the gun, and you looked up to see that Frank was already watching you.
“Show me.”
Without hesitating, you swiftly reached out to grab the barrel of the gun and forcefully pushed it to the left. Frank let you redirect it to a certain point, and then pushed back to hold the gun in place. His strength was something you couldn’t combat, and as you kept pushing at the barrel, his resistance  made the gun almost wobble in your hands. 
“Attagirl. Easy, easy. Relax.”
Frank reached out with his left hand and grabbed onto your wrist, gently squeezing it to steady your hand.
“Alright, now step two, you go for that wrist, yeah? You get control. Go.”
Immediately you reached out with your right hand to wrap your fingers around Frank’s wrist to grab onto it tightly. Giving a slight shake of his head, Frank pulled your hand off of his wrist and guided it underneath his wrist instead.
“Look, underneath, yeah? Underneath. Go for the joint. Joints are weakest.”
Everything Frank was showing you seemed so simple that it filled you with a false sense of confidence. With your right hand under his right wrist, you gripped onto the barrel tightly with your left hand and took a step back as you tried to tug it away, thinking it would spring loose. Frank let out a grunt of disapproval and pulled his right arm back, easily slipping the gun out of your grasp completely and causing you to stumble forward a bit. He had a somewhat stern look on his face as he wagged the gun in your direction twice.
“Easy, bang bang. Don’t ever pull a gun towards you. You push it away.”
Letting out a huff of annoyance as your previous overzealous confidence fizzled out, you looked up at Frank as he held his left hand out towards you to signal for you to stay in place. He wasn’t teasing you anymore like he had been earlier. This wasn't Frank that had made you strawberry pancakes and caressed your legs while they sat in his lap as the two of you shared breakfast this morning. This was Frank that nearly sent your ex to the morgue instead of prison. He was back in full protective bodyguard mode.
“Listen to me. Use your legs, get underneath, and twist. Don’t pull, twist. Yeah? C’mon, show me.”
Taking a deep breath, you gave a slight nod and went over the steps in your head. Grab the barrel of the gun, shove it away from yourself, slip your other hand under the wrist joint, and twist the gun away. Your lips faintly twitched as you silently recited the steps to yourself three times for good measure. Frank didn’t make a move to rush you. He kept his eyes on you and waited patiently until you were ready to give it a try. 
Sucking in one more deep breath, your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and you sprung into action. Taking a quick step forward, you reached out to tightly grab the barrel of the gun with your left hand, and while you pushed it away to the left, you simultaneously slipped your right hand under Frank’s wrist. Twisting the barrel of the gun forcefully to the right caused Frank’s wrist to twist with it until he was forced to let go, and in that short window of weakness you were able to pull the gun out of his hand with a hard step backwards.
Glancing down at the gun in your hands, your eyes went wide with surprise and your mouth hung open as you let out an incredulous laugh. 
“Holy shit, that actually worked!”
Frank held his hands up like you had just made a touchdown, and he started to clap as a proud tooth bearing grin stretched over his lips.
“Look at that, huh? Who got a gun, huh?”
Looking up at Frank, your lips parted into a huge grin of your own while you held it up like a trophy and spoke in a proud voice.
“I have a gun.”
“Attagirl. You’re goddamn right you do. You did good, sweetheart. Real good. Feels good, yeah?”
Biting down on your bottom lip, you let out a soft laugh while admiring the gun in your hands. Well, more so admiring the fact that you were able to actually take it from Frank. The only reason you felt comfortable holding the gun right now was because Frank had shown you the clip was empty before he started demonstrating the basics earlier. 
Pointing a loaded gun at Steven had been different. You were blinded in a fit of rage, not thinking clearly, but deep down you knew there was no way you would have actually pulled the trigger. However if you had been level headed, you probably wouldn’t have taken it from Billy, even if he offered. 
“Yeah…yeah it does.”
And it did feel good. It made you feel strong…less helpless. Frank was giving you back a sense of safety and security that had been stolen from you when you were first threatened by the Defenders of Freedom. Even if you never used this lesson, and you genuinely hoped you wouldn’t have to, you felt a surge of confidence knowing that you were at least capable of protecting yourself in some capacity. 
“Okay, step three.”
A pinch of confusion settled between your brows as you looked up at Frank when he mentioned a third step, and you noticed that he wasn’t smiling anymore. A grim look had settled over his features that sent a chill of unease down your spine.
“You just took a gun off someone that wanted to use it on you. What d’you do.”
The delight of pride had disappeared from his face and was swiftly replaced by a shadow of severity that was now coveting his sharp features, and the elated grin that was on your own lips had slowly fallen from grace. It was a rhetorical question you both knew the answer to, but you hadn’t factored in a third step. It hadn’t even crossed your mind, and Frank could see that in your eyes.
“You use it on them. Don’t matter who they are, you do not hesitate. You got that?”
Looking down at the gun in your hands, the weight of it was suddenly too heavy in your palms. Step three was a reminder that step one and two weren’t just to boost your confidence in protecting yourself; they were steps to defend yourself. Swallowing thickly, you nodded your head in silent understanding.
“Good. Show me.”
Frank’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. It wasn’t a command, but it wasn’t a suggestion either. Placing both of your hands on the gun the way he had shown you to properly hold it, you took a deep breath, slowly raising it to aim in Frank’s direction. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that he knew the clip was empty, or that this most likely wasn’t the first time he had stared down the barrel of a gun, but he looked completely unphased. The canvas of his face was expressionless, but his eyes were what you had learned to read. Only right now, you couldn’t understand what they were trying to tell you. 
The gun trembled slightly in your grasp, as if every cell in your body knew exactly how wrong it felt to point a gun at Frank, loaded or not. The self defense lesson you wanted for a possible yet highly improbable scenario had quickly become too heavy and realistic, and you were quickly regretting even asking for it.
“Show me.”
“I’m not doing that-”
“It ain’t loaded-”
“Frank, I don’t want to-”
“What’d I say, huh? I don’t care who it is, you do not hesitate. Ever. Now, show me you understand.”
Frank’s tone was a little more forceful, but the volume of it was still even and somewhat soft. You knew there were no repercussions if you didn’t pull the trigger. He had learned early on that he couldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to, and you trusted him enough to know that he would never try to force you. Frank never demanded anything of you, he always asked.
But you had asked for this, and he wanted you to follow through with it.
Clenching your jaw, you let out a shaky exhale through your nose, and you slowly squeezed the trigger like he had taught you to yesterday when you were out in the woods using cans as target practice. The click that sounded caused you to flinch, and it seemed to echo loudly in the living room. Frank on the other hand didn’t visibly react to it at all.
Without another word, you placed the gun down onto the coffee table a little too forcefully and headed towards the back door, wanting to put as much distance between it and yourself as possible. Frank caught your wrist before you could get too far and gently tugged you back towards himself.
“Hey-”
“I’m going for a walk.”
“No, you ain’t. You ain’t runnin’ away, you’re gonna stay here and talk to me. We ain’t doin’ that not communicatin’ shit. Why are you upset?”
“I told you I didn’t want to do that-”
“You asked me to teach you. I said no, but you kept on beggin’. What did you think this was gonna be, huh? You think you get a gun off someone, and it ends there? No. As soon as you get control and take it, you use it. No negotiatin’, no questionin’ it, you do it-”
“And what if I can’t, Frank?”
The distress in your voice made him pause and clench his jaw. He could see that you were visibly upset, and for a moment he wondered if he was being too hard on you. You said it yourself, this was not your area of expertise. It was his. Frank had years of professional training under his belt. Pulling a trigger was something he didn’t even have to think twice about. It was an automatic response. The aftermath of what followed didn’t even make him bat an eye. There were always casualties in war. 
But you weren’t a soldier, and having to actually pull the trigger on someone would be something that haunted you for the rest of your life if it came down to it.
Letting out a deep exhale through his large nose, Frank stepped forward and wrapped one of his arms around your waist to pull you into his embrace while using his other hand to slip his fingers gently into your hair to brush it back before cradling your face in his right hand.
“Listen to me. If it comes down to you, or someone else, you do whatever you gotta do to save yourself, you got that?”
The rational part of your brain knew that Frank was right. If you had taken a gun from Cavella or Walker, you would’ve had to shoot them. There’s no way they wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to kill you if they had it. But the emotional part of your brain was struggling to figure out if you could handle the consequences of taking someone’s life, justified or not. Frank could see the internal conflict in your eyes, and he lightly brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone as the rough timbre of his voice broke the tense silence.
“Hey, no one’s sayin’ you gotta shoot ‘em point blank, alright? I’ve seen your aim, and it ain’t all that great anyway. You’d be lucky to scare ‘em off with firin’ a terrible shot just so you could get away.”
Rolling your eyes at his comment, you let out a dry laugh. As much as you wanted to be annoyed, he was right. You were terrible. You didn’t hit a single can yesterday, even at close range. You did manage to scare the shit out of some crows in a tree though.
“You are such an ass.”
The edge of Frank’s mouth twitched up into a light smirk while giving your waist a gentle squeeze.
“And you’re cute thinkin’ you could actually do some damage. I know a blind guy that can hit targets better than you. Look, you gotta stop gettin’ upset ‘bout things that might not even happen, alright? If it ever comes down to it, remember that you’re the one controllin’ the gun, yeah? It ain’t controllin’ you. Wherever you aim, the bullet’s gonna go. You can shoot ‘em in the leg, foot, shoulder, hell shoot ‘em in the dick for all I care. That’ll keep ‘em down for a while. You just promise me you’ll pull that trigger. You get ‘em down however you want, and then you get the hell outta there. That’s all you gotta do, yeah?”
Frank dipped his head to catch your eyes, staring intently into them. Letting out a deep breath, you bit down on your bottom lip and nodded while placing your hands on Frank’s biceps. You could do that. Injuring someone just to get away was a lot more manageable for your conscience. Frank lightly grasped your jaw in his large hand, his bottom three fingers wrapping around your throat while his index finger and thumb held your jaw. He tipped your head back so that you had no choice but to look up at him.
“Lemme hear you say it.”
Staring up into his warm brown eyes, you gazed up at him silently for a moment before speaking.
“No hesitating. I promise.”
“Attagirl. C’mere.”
Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a soft and sweet kiss. Sometimes it amazed you how easily he was able to talk you down from the ledge. Frank was a man of few words, but he somehow always knew exactly which ones to say to ease whatever anxieties were weighing on your mind. And the distraction of his plush lips against yours also certainly helped.
Ever since the other night by the fireplace, every kiss between the two of you that started out soft and sweet had a way of evolving into something more passionate and insatiable. Maybe it was the months of denying your feelings for one another, or maybe there was just some magnetic pull between your souls, but whatever it was, neither of you could get enough.
Before you could even register that you were moving, Frank was lifting you up by your hips and setting you down on the dining table, his hungry kisses leaving a searing path along your jawline and down the column of your neck.
“Did good today, sweetheart. Did real goddamn good, made me so proud.”
Frank’s gravely songs of praise in your ear only further ignited the flame of desire that was burning in your lower belly. Despite the warmth of his large palm touching your bare skin as he slipped it underneath your shirt to caress your lower back, a shiver teasingly tumbled down your spine from the contact.
“I had a good teacher.”
“Nah, I think you’re just a natural, baby.”
“I thought I had terrible aim?”
“Didn’t say you were perfect. Everybody’s got their strengths and weaknesses.”
A soft laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it, and you could feel the rumble of Frank’s deep chuckle vibrating in his chest that was pressed against yours.
“Wow, you really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Castle.”
Frank pulled back slightly to look down at you, his eyes traveling over your figure to drink in the sight of you sitting on the edge of the dining table before they slowly wandered back up to meet your gaze. He arched one of his thick brows as a smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Yours are currently danglin’, sweetheart.”
Before you could retort with a smartass comment of your own, Frank’s mouth was back on your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin. Feeling his tongue gliding along your collarbone and giving it a delectable love bite, you closed your eyes and let your head fall back, granting Frank all the access he wanted to your skin.
The feeling of his lips on your neck was so heavenly you almost didn’t notice that he had popped the button on your jeans and tugged down your zipper until he was lifting you up slightly with one arm around your waist and pulling the denim down your hips with his free hand. As soon as your jeans were completely off, your own hands were reaching for Frank’s belt buckle, but he grasped your wrists and halted your attempt. A soft noise of protest quickly slipped past your lips.
“Frank-”
“Shh shh shh. Spread your legs for me, baby.”
A rush of heat pooled in your cheeks at his request, but you obliged immediately. Frank leaned in to kiss you deeply, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip and nipping at it softly while his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your panties and slipped them off too slowly for your liking. The sudden contact of the crisp autumn air coming in through the open windows hitting your slicked folds had you gasping, and Frank used that to his advantage by slipping his tongue into your mouth to caress your own sensually. 
“Spread ‘em wider for me, sweetheart. C’mon.”
Frank’s deep voice was quiet, but it nestled in your ears as comfortably as it did between your thighs. He pulled you a little more towards the edge of the dining table, and when you spread your legs further for him, he sank down to his knees in front of you and let out a low groan of appreciation at the sight waiting for him. 
“Attagirl, that’s it. God, look at you. You should see how fuckin’ pretty you look right now, baby.”
His large hands gripped onto your soft thighs, kneading and squeezing your flesh with his thick fingers. Frank didn’t waste a second before diving into your cunt face first. As soon as his warm and wet tongue began to strum your clit like chords to his favorite song, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. He brought your legs over his broad shoulders, burying his face so deep into your core, you weren’t sure how he was breathing.
Your hand quickly found a fistful of his slightly grown out hair that you gripped onto to steady yourself, and when you gave it an experimental tug, the vibration of his groan against your clit had your thighs trembling more than any toy you had ever gotten for yourself before.
“Fuck…Frank…”
Frank let out a loud grunt as he pulled back for just a moment to stare at your glistening pussy almost in awe, his hooded eyes briefly meeting your own for a second before focusing back on the display of your desire for him.
“Taste so good sweetheart, so fuckin’ good. You got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
He dove right back in, this time slipping his tongue inside of you to explore while using his large nose to bump against your clit repeatedly. The stimulation had your back arching off the dining table and a loud moan echoed throughout the cabin. Tugging harder at his dark roots, you pushed your hips up against his face, desperately and greedily searching for more. None of your exes had ever eaten you out like this before. Most of them didn’t even know what the fuck they were doing, and the rest gave up after a few minutes because it “took too long”, but still expected you to suck them off until your jaw ached.
But Frank…God, Frank knew what he was doing. His thick fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, following your hips wherever they went. The groans that continued to vibrate against your clit not only turned you on because of their stimulation, but because you could tell that Frank was genuinely enjoying eating your pussy. The fact that he was getting just as much pleasure out of it as you were had you on the brink of an orgasm alone. Frank had a way of making every experience feel brand new, and it made you realize just how much you had been missing out on in your previous relationships.
That familiar bubbly feeling was building up inside of you, cresting slowly like a tidal wave ready to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting beach. Your breaths were coming out in short staccato variations, and at this point you were roughy tugging at Frank’s hair with both hands while essentially fucking his face. Not that he seemed to mind at all. If anything, it just seemed to make him more feral.
“Yesyesyesyes…please-fuck, Frank…I…I…”
Frank pulled you even closer towards the edge of the dining table to where your ass was basically hanging off of it, and the jolt of his large palm smacking against your ass was the only indication you got that he understood what you were trying to tell him.
You thought you had more time, but your climax suddenly crashed into you without further warning, and your hips were stuttering as Frank continued his incessant assault on your pussy with his tongue. It seemed like he didn’t want to let a drop of your essence go to waste, and while you appreciated his enthusiasm, the way he was flicking his tongue rapidly against your overstimulated clit was riding that very thin line between pain and pleasure, and you were weakly shoving at his broad shoulders.
“Okay okay okay…Frank…fuck, please! Just…give me a second, God-”
Frank dragged his tongue up your entire pussy from your entrance to your clit one last time before granting you mercy with a low growl. While you panted heavily laying back against the dining room table, he was pressing featherlight kisses to each of your inner thighs, but due to your body feeling like a live wire, they felt like faint shocks that had your body jolting every time his wet lips met your heated skin. He chuckled deeply watching you respond to his touch.
“You alright there, sweetheart?”
Lifting your hand, you gave him a weak thumbs up, and Frank just laughed even louder in amusement at that. The sound of his laughter combined with your own blissed out post orgasm state had a lazy grin stretching over your lips. You felt his large and rough hands slipping underneath your shirt, gently caressing your bare skin and grabbing your waist while he leaned over you, kissing your lips deeply. The taste of your own sweet tang on Frank’s tongue had your head spinning, and a soft hum sounded in the back of your throat.  Even though you were still recovering from your first ever oral orgasm, the feeling of Frank’s hard cock straining against his jeans and rubbing against your inner thigh reignited your greed.
Brushing your hand slowly down his chest, you palmed him firmly through his jeans, and Frank let out a grunt while pushing himself further against your hand. He broke the kiss momentarily to nuzzle his large nose against your throat.
“If ya need a minute-”
“No. Now.”
While you unfastened his belt in record time, Frank placed his hands on the table on either side of your head and pulled back to look down at you with a soft chuckle at your impatience. He lightly cocked his head to the side, his brown eyes darkened with lust as they roamed over you shamelessly. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and a crooked smirk caressed his mouth.
“Anybody ever tell you what an impatient lil thing you are?”
A smirk of your own tugged across your lips while you slipped your hand into his jeans, stroking his thick cock through his briefs, earning a quiet grunt from Frank.
“Apart from you every day since we met? Maybe a few other people. Is my lack of patience really what you wanna talk about right now, big guy?”
The sultry tone of your voice did not go unnoticed by Frank, and in fact, it only made his cock swell even more in your welcoming hand. He slowly moved his hips back and forth as you teasingly stroked him and leaned down closer towards you, nuzzling his nose along your throat before whispering huskily into your ear.
“Got somethin’ better in mind.”
By the time Frank had carried you down the hall to the master bedroom, the two of you had left a trail of forgotten items of clothing strewn like breadcrumbs along the path from the kitchen. He let you push him back against the mattress and grabbed your hips to pull you on top of him, his lips moving in sync with your own, but when you felt the swollen head of his cock bump against your clit, you suddenly pressed your palms firmly against his chest and pulled back while breaking the kiss.
“Wait.”
Frank immediately paused, loosening his grip on your hips, his lust clouded eyes clearing a bit while searching your own and wandering over your figure for the source of the problem.
“What? What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
The concern in his rough timbre combined with the worry in his soft brown eyes made your heart melt. A gentle smile covered your lips while you reached out to delicately hold his strong jaw in your hands, and you leaned in to kiss his lips softly.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t think it’s fair you get to have all the fun.”
Frank’s apprehension morphed into confusion, and a few creases nestled between his thick brows. 
“Huh?”
Letting out a soft laugh at how adorable he looked when he was confused, you decided to explain with actions instead of words. When you moved backwards off his lap to settle between his legs, Frank raised himself up on his elbows, following you with his eyes as he watched you intently. 
“What are you-holy shit.”
Frank’s jaw went slack the second you leaned in and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it once before beginning to take a few inches into your mouth. Placing one of your hands on his left hip, you teasingly moved your lips up his length until he was out of your mouth with a satisfying pop. Pursing your lips, you let a string of glistening saliva slowly drop onto his tip and used your free hand to spread it down the rest of his thick cock for lubrication, and after wrapping your fingers around his girth, you began to twist your wrist up and down slowly. 
You could feel how tense he was through your hold on his hip. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you noticed that he was staring directly at you, completely mesmerized, and was gripping onto the sheets so tightly you thought he might rip them. Moving your hand from his hip, you reached out to caress his hand, and he slowly loosened his grip, his knuckles no longer stark white. His plush lips were parted, and he was breathing hard, his thick brows knit in complete focus. You allowed him to slip out of your mouth for just a moment to smile softly up at Frank.
“Just relax.”
The sweet sound of your voice seemed to reach his ears, and after a few more moments of hesitation, Frank finally laid back against the mattress and let his head rest on the pillows. He moved the hand that was underneath yours to grab your wrist, turning your hand over so he could slot his fingers between yours to hold it. His other hand slowly came over to card his fingers through your hair before cradling the back of your head. Giving his hand that you were holding a light squeeze, you continued to hold eye contact with Frank while slowly sucking him off, using your hand that was around his base to work over what wouldn’t fit in your mouth.
The sound of his quiet grunts and low moans sent a thrill through you, and you wanted to know just how vocal he could get. Letting go of his hand, you placed both of your palms firmly on his hips and relaxed your jaw completely, taking his entire cock into your mouth until his tip hit the back of your throat. A guttural groan ripped from the depth of his chest and his lower abdomen instantly tensed up as he gripped onto your hair.
“Goddamn-fuck…fuck, sweetheart. Do…do that again. Please…please baby, do it again.”
Taking in a deep inhale through your nose, you prepared yourself to deepthroat Frank’s thick cock again, and this time you held him there until your eyes started to water. He let out a louder moan of your name, and that caused the throbbing between your thighs to evolve from dull to downright unbearable. You thought about sneaking your hand downwards to get a little relief, but Frank had been so unselfish when he ate you out, only focused on your pleasure, and he deserved that same treatment. 
All of a sudden, Frank roughly tugged at your hair, and that made you moan around his cock. You heard him let out a quiet fuck under his breath in response. He gave your hair another tug to get your attention, and his cock slipped from your lips as you licked them and tried to catch your breath while staring at him, noticing that he had sat up.
“C’mere.”
He didn’t give you a chance to protest before he grabbed your throat and pulled you in close to kiss you fervently. Frank’s large and rough hands grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap again, and you let out a soft whine against his lips when the head of his cock rubbed against your sensitive clit. 
“Frank, I didn’t get to finish-”
“As much as I’d love to come down that pretty throat, I need ya baby. Need ya now.”
Grabbing the base of his cock, Frank positioned himself perfectly with your entrance and pulled you down slowly, letting you feel every single inch of him. Your mouth hung open at the sensation, and your body instantly tensed up. You thought Frank had been deep the other night, but he was reaching an even greater depth inside of you right now if that was possible. There was a slight burn as your walls stretched to accommodate his size, but your brain barely even registered it, because Frank was slipping his tongue into your mouth and kissing you sensually as if he wanted to steal the very essence of life from your lungs. 
Once he was fully nestled deep inside of you, a high pitched cry left your mouth, and he wrapped his arm around your waist tightly.
“Shh…s’alright. Just relax for me, sweetheart.”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you clung to Frank as he wrapped both of his strong arms around your waist and held you tightly against his chest. Both of you sat there for a moment, your foreheads pressed together as you panted. He rubbed his large calloused hand up and down your spine soothingly, his teeth grazing along your ear lobe and biting down gently to distract you from any discomfort. Slowly, the tension in your body melted, and you gave an experimental roll of your hips that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“That’s it…attagirl. Take your time, sweetheart. M’right here. I got you.”
This felt right. It felt…perfect. Those three little words almost slipped out right there. Grabbing onto the back of his neck, you pulled Frank in for a passionate kiss, trying to pour every ounce of emotion you felt into it. He groaned quietly against your lips when your nails lightly scratched at the back of his head where his hair was shaved closely to his scalp. Moving your hips in slow circles, you grinded down onto Frank’s cock, and he flexed his hips upwards to match your rhythm. The other night by the fireplace had been the best experience of your life, but this…this was something you couldn’t put into words.
Placing your palms against Frank’s firm chest, you pressed lightly and he followed your silent instructions, allowing you to push him onto his back. His large hands gripped firmly onto your hips as he gazed up at you, and you kept your palms flat on his chest while slowly riding his cock. Neither of you could tear your eyes away from each other. The feeling of his warm hands leisurely moving up your bare skin made you shiver, and a soft gasp left your lips when he groped your breasts and squeezed gently. The calloused pad of his thumb gingerly brushing over your peaked nipple had you arching your back, pressing your chest further into his eager hands.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful.”
The sincerity in Frank’s vulnerable whisper nearly brought tears to your eyes. He wasn’t saying it because he thought it was what you wanted to hear, he was saying it because he felt it, and he was making you feel it too. The way he was staring up at you like you were the only thing that mattered had your heart swelling inside your ribcage like a balloon about to burst. It had been a long time since you mattered to someone, and you felt lucky it was Frank. The look in his eyes was almost too much to handle.
Letting your head fall back, you closed your eyes for a moment as you writhed on top of Frank, getting completely lost in how good it felt to be connected to him in such a raw and intimate way. One of his hands traveled up from your breast towards your throat, and he wrapped his fingers tightly around it almost entirely, forcing you to face him again. He pulled you down over him so that your forehead was pressed to his, and the two of you stared deeply into each other's eyes. 
“Frank-”
“I wanna see you. Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come for me. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”
Being this close to him, you noticed for the first time that there were scattered flecks of honey in his deep brown eyes. They looked so warm and inviting, like two melted pools of chocolate you wanted to drown in. The eyes that could say so much with a single look. You thought you could see it…that flicker that he felt it too. You wanted to tell him so fucking badly, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment, and the way he was hitting that spongy spot inside of you that could cause supernovas to appear behind your eyelids was making it hard for you to speak at all.
Holding his face in your hand, your eyes drifted back and forth between his own as you stared down at him in complete devotion, your lips parted as you nodded your head frantically while short and breathy moans escaped you. Frank’s eyes were focused solely on you, one of his hands holding the back of your head while his other remained around your throat. It was getting harder and harder for you to keep your eyes open, but you didn’t want to miss a single second of this moment.
It was also getting harder and harder to not voice the sentiment that was overflowing from your ribcage.
“Frank…I…I-”
Frank cut off your words by capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The softness of his lips against yours, the heat of his bare skin pressed to your own, his thick fingers wrapped around your neck and tangled in your hair, his pubic bone rubbing just right against your clit…it was all too much. Breaking the kiss, you buried your face into the crook of his neck and let out a sharp cry of his name. Your nails raked harshly down his chest when your climax finally peaked, and a white hot cloud of hedonistic desire blinded your vision. 
Your entire body seized up, and you could faintly hear Frank whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he gripped your hips and repeatedly thrust up into you, fucking you through your orgasm while barreling towards his own. The sensation of that alone was enough to nearly send you free falling into another. The intensity of your orgasm had rendered you an incoherent and moaning mess. Frank dug his fingers roughly into the flesh of your hips and came with a deep grunt that nearly sounded like a growl, letting out a loud groan of your name.
The room felt like a sauna. Your face felt overheated, and your hair was stuck to your cheeks and the back of your neck with sweat. Frank had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, hugging you against his chest. The feeling of his strong heartbeat thundering against your own chest kept you anchored to the moment while your body trembled with aftershocks. You couldn’t move, and you didn’t want to.
As soon as Frank made a move to sit up and pull out of you, a desperate and high pitched whine of protest fell from your lips while you gripped onto his shoulder and dug your nails into the muscle.
“No no no no no, please…don’t move.”
Frank instantly stilled, bringing one of his hands up to brush the sweaty hair stuck to your forehead and neck away. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead and gave your body a gentle squeeze in his strong arms.
“Okay, we don’t gotta move yet.”
Letting out a soft sigh of relief, you buried your face further into Frank’s neck, letting the comforting scent of his cologne calm you. He gently carded his thick fingers through your hair and kept holding you tightly to his chest while resting his head against your own.
“I just wanna stay like this for a while.”
“We can stay like this as long as you want, sweetheart.”
When you started to regain your senses, you started to wonder just how true that statement was. 
How long could you and Frank stay like this before reality came knocking?
Your home wouldn’t always be a crime scene. Eventually the two of you would have to go back to work. Now that everything had changed between the two of you, what would a new normal look like? Frank’s job required him to be with someone constantly. What happens when he gets assigned to someone else? What if it’s another woman? Even though Frank was broody and unapproachable initially, you had still found him attractive, and all the time you spent together over the past few months led you right here to this moment.
What if that happened with someone else? What if the next woman he was assigned to found him just as attractive? What if she wanted him? You and Frank hadn’t really established what this was between the two of you. Were you together? Did he want to be together? Would he still want to be together if the next woman was prettier and less stubborn and actually-
“Quit it.”
The sound of his deep voice breaking through the silence interrupted your spiraling. 
“What?”
“Whatever you’re overthinkin’ right now, let it go.”
Removing your face from the crook of Frank’s neck, you pulled back slightly to peer down at him in pure curiosity.
“How do you even-”
“I can practically hear the gears turnin’ in your head, sweetheart. You keep thinkin’ so hard, smoke’s gonna start comin’ out of your ears.”
Giving him a pointed look expressing you weren’t amused, he let out a quiet chuckle and gently brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.
“C’mon, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry ‘bout right now. Just relax, yeah?”
Letting out a soft sigh, you nodded and laid your head back against Frank’s shoulder, nuzzling your nose against his neck as he hugged onto you tightly. For a while, you two laid there wrapped up in one another, and you were able to let some of your anxieties go. The afterglow of your shared euphoria was peaceful, and you could’ve even fallen asleep at that moment, but something Frank said earlier suddenly popped back into your head. 
“Hey Frank?”
“Hm?”
“Do you really know a blind guy that has a good aim with guns?”
Frank let out a quiet snicker at your question.
“He don’t use guns. He’s too…Catholic.”
That did nothing to answer your question and only fueled you with more inquiries.
“But…you said he could hit targets better than I could.”
Frank simply grunted in response. You stayed silent waiting for further explanation, but when one didn’t come, you continued your questions.
“How?”
“Hell if I know.”
Sitting up a little bit again, you stared down at Frank in complete puzzlement.
“But…he’s blind. That doesn’t make any sense.”
“No it don’t.”
“So…he’s-”
“An asshole. Go to sleep.”
Letting out a soft laugh, your eyes widened slightly as you gently smacked his chest.
“Frank!”
“What? Cause he’s blind he can’t be an asshole?”
“Well…no. But…how does he do it?”
“You’ll have to ask ‘em yourself.”
“I thought Billy was your only friend.”
Frank pulled a look of faux offense at that, his thick brows knit as he let out a puff of air through his lips.
“Ouch. I got other friends, smartass. And I never said he was one. He’s more of a pain in my ass.”
Frank gently pinched your ass which made you squeal before erupting into a fit of laughter.
“Hey!”
A huge grin split across your lips as he suddenly flipped you both over, managing to keep himself nestled inside of you while he pinned you beneath his large body. As he leaned in to kiss your lips, you brought your index finger up and pressed it against his mouth.
“I’m not done. I have more questions.”
“Course you do.”
“I wanna know who this mystery blind man is with good aim, and your other friends that you suddenly have that you’ve kept from me. While you’re at it, is there anything else you’re hiding, Castle?”
While your question was intended to be teasing, a dark look flashed across Frank’s eyes, and it made your breath hitch in your throat. He stared down at you silently for a moment, and it made you wonder just how much more there was to Frank that you hadn’t uncovered yet. As soon as you removed your finger from his lips, Frank leaned in closer, caging you in with his large hands on either side of your head. As he loomed over you, he slowly thrust his hips against your own, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. His breath was warm against your lips while he nuzzled his large nose along your own, his rough voice coming out in a husky whisper.
“Think I liked you better when the only thing you could say was my name, sweetheart.”
tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress
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tlou-reid · 4 months
Text
Invisible String ❆ Spencer Reid
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☃︎ SUMMARY: spencer’s new gf shows him a photo her mother sent. he happens to recognize it.
☃︎ WARNINGS: very short lol, mentions of diana and her dementia, all around cuteness
.。❅⋆⍋∞。∞⍋⋆❅。.
“And isn’t it just so pretty think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?”
“Spencer!” You were practically sprinting through the BAU, with your arm extended and a phone in your hand. “Spencer!” You yelled with more urgency as you came to a clumsy stop behind his chair. He spun around to face you with furrowed eyebrows and a perplexed expression.
“Are you okay?” He asked, resting his hands on your hips for a moment, just briefly. He made sure you were steady before he let go, but he didn’t want to draw any more attention to the public display of affection currently going on behind his desk. It was hard enough to keep the higher ups off of your backs for just dating, let alone showing off your relationship.
You nodded excitedly, forcing your phone into his hands. “What is this?” He asked, looking at a thread of text messages from your mother.
“Look at the picture!” You cheered, leaning over to point at the image your mother had sent you. Spencer scrolled up a little bit, opening the photo. It was one he’d seen before, he knew that much. He couldn’t forget it if he wanted to, eidetic memory and all.
It was a photograph of a high school girl’s soccer team from around the 1950s. He recognized exactly one of them, his mother. She was dressed in a classic soccer uniform, with hair much longer than he was used to seeing her with. Spencer had seen the photo in a yearbook she had when she had first begun showing signs of dementia.
“That’s my mom’s high school soccer team,” Spencer concluded, not understanding why you were showing him this, or why your mother sent it to you.
Contrary to his confusion, you were full of glee. He looked up at you and was basically blinded by the radiant, beaming smile on your face. He was even more entranced by you when you spoke, “Noooooo,” you extended your words for emphasis, “that’s MY mom’s high school soccer team!”
You and Spencer hadn’t been together long, merely a few months. Due to the nature of your jobs and the way you were constantly on the go, he hadn’t had the chance to meet much of your family, not even your parents. The topic of them had come up, but he didn’t know much. You spoke more about how you grew up, telling anecdotal stories when appropriate.
“Really?” Spencer asked, bringing the phone closer to his face and scanning it for a woman who resembled you in any way. He could feel you excitedly nod, again, as he did so. “She said she knew your last name but couldn’t remember where from! She was cleaning out her storage closet and found her yearbook!” You were laughing as you spoke, mind blown by the crazy coincide.
“There’s like a one in a million chance this could’ve happened!” You explained, leaning down to point at your mother in the photo. He followed your finger, smiling when he saw her. You did have a bit of resemblance to her. He was so in awe of the situation that he didn’t do the numbers to figure out the real chance.
“How did we not know this?” Spencer asked, handing your phone back to you. “My grandfather was a higher up in the military, so my mom moved around a lot. She said she stayed at this school from 8th to 11th grade and it was the longest she was at one school.” You explained, still shocked by the photo.
“It’s like destiny!” You cheered. However, when you saw Spencer’s face twist up, your excited demeanor fell. “There’s no such thing,” Spencer declares, ever the man of science.
“Look up the Red Thread of Fate, boy wonder,” Penelope butts in from behind you. She’s watched the entire exchange. You smiled at having her be your back up, and because you could finally teach Spencer about something.
“That’s just folklore,” Spencer dismisses, brushing off Penelope’s suggestion. “Just admit it, Spencer!” You demanded, “there’s always been an invisible string tying us together!” You pulled him to a tight hug that only lasted for a second.
“Okay,” he agreed after contemplating for a while, “only because it’s very sweet that you think so.” With that, he turned back to his computer, trying to hide his blushing face.
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wheredafandomat · 7 months
Text
My Loki
TVA! Loki x female reader
18+ | contains smut - Quick fire rapid small drabble thing because ep 2 was hot 🥵 WK 700
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“I have done some terrible awful things. Yeah, maybe that is who I am and he knows, she knows” Loki paused for a moment, glancing at you “it’s the real me. A loser. Always have been, always will be” he continued.
“Loki” you interrupted to no avail.
“And perhaps I’ve been holding something back. Perhaps I’ve just been waiting for a moment like this, so I can do terrible awful things to you” he threatened, stepping closer to Brad who’s expression had contorted into fear.
“Loki, that’s enough” Mobius tried to intervene but he was in a trance.
“Loki” you spoke authoritatively, stepping between him and Brad, snapping him out of his stupor as his almost teary eyes met yours. “No” you mouth, urging him to back down.
Taking a deep grounding breath, Loki turned away before storming out of the room. You looked over at Mobius who shrugged his shoulders before you chased after Loki, calling his name but he didn’t respond, he just weaved his way through the other agents, continuing down the corridor.
“Loki, Loki!” You yelled, following him into a locker room as he spun around.
“WHAT?” He exclaimed.
“Talk to me” you implored.
“You want me to talk to you?” He questioned almost mockingly as he stepped towards you, caging you between himself and the locker behind you. You tried to keep your breaths even as the familiar scent of his cologne evaded your senses, exciting you. “Hmm? Is that what you want?” He continued, using his thumb and index finger to tilt your chin upwards, his eyes boaring into yours. “You want me to confide in you, tell you what’s going on in my head, what I’m thinking?” He listed as he lifted your skirt up a little, pushing one of his legs between yours and stealing your breath away as he began rubbing his thigh against your clothed pussy. Your head fell back against the locker, eyes closed as your panties dampened. You practically purred when he undid one of the buttons on your shirt and began kissing your neck. “What if I don’t want to talk?” He uttered against your lips before you pressed yours against his, kissing him deeply.
Lifting you, Loki pressed you back harder against the lockers with his hips as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Using one of his hands, he undid his belt, pulling his trousers low enough to free his hard cock as he pumped it a couple of times before running it through your slick folds and guiding himself to your entrance.
“Fuck Loki” you murmured in his ear as he entered you before pulling out a little and thrusting inside of you again. His movements were fast, almost desperate as you moaned against his ear. You could tell this wouldn’t take long for either of you.
“I’m the villain y/n” Loki confessed between thrusts as he grunted “in his story and in yours”
“No” you insisted, opening your eyes as you looked down into his, your hand against his cheek as he slowed this thrusts “you’re the God of Mischief, you’re my Loki” you affirmed “not a villain” you smiled, Loki’s expression changing into something that could only be described as fond.
Pecking your lips, Loki sped his thrusts again, fucking into you with ardour as the lockers behind you clanged against the wall, the sound of both of you moaning filling the room.
“I’m so closee” you mewled moments before your orgasm swarmed you leaving you shaking as Loki chased his own.
“Fuck” he cursed, stilling his movements as he pushed his hips against yours, filling you with his warm seed as he rode out his high.
Once you were both sated, Loki placed you back down onto shaky legs as he pulled his trousers back up, simultaneously pulling your skirt down as if he knew you were both about to be interrupted.
“Here you are, I’ve been searching everywhere for you both” Mobius spoke, entering the room as you fixed your hair.
“What?” Loki questioned as Mobius’s gaze flicked between you both suspiciously.
“No, nothing” he dismissed, noticing your shirt button undone.
“Let’s go then” Loki gestured, walking past Mobius and out of the room.
Tags
@lokisgoodgirl @thenotoriouserg @chantsdemarins @donaweasley @xorpsbane @mcufan72 @loz-3 @evelyn-kingsley @sailorholly @lovingchoices14 @lokiedokiee @noideakitten @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @lokiprompts @lulubelle814 @fictive-sl0th @peaches1958 @gigglingtiggerv2 @tmilover1993 @lyds247 @dustychinchilla74 @lokis-dark-queen @november-rayne @12-pm-510 @vickie5546 @newtomofgods @eyesbluelikethetitanic @lokiestorch @somewhereinthegalaxi @beautyb1ade @angelilacsworld @lokidokieokie @mushypork @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed
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loveinhawkins · 10 months
Text
Every so often, Eddie will get the bus to Starcourt Mall (because what else is there to do?) and watch the world go by.
It’s not like he’s above a cliché or two—maybe he wants to indulge in being a lone figure within the crowd. Maybe he just feels like wallowing in the aimlessness of it all, damn it.
This is where Wayne would point out that Eddie is exactly the opposite of aimless, what with how he’d stormed into the trailer last month, failed test results in hand and snarled, “Next year. I’ll fuckin’ show ‘em.”
But there’s a long time between now and the new school year starting, the summer stretching out before him like taffy. He’d tried to start his reading list early again, but that’s never done him much good; this time he’d gotten through one chapter of Moby-fucking-Dick before despairing.
So. People-watching at the mall it is.
It’s surprisingly not all that terrible an activity, apart from discovering which teachers are suddenly very passionate about jazzercise—a sight Eddie could’ve blissfully lived the rest of his life without seeing.
There’s also the confirmation that the Starcourt commercial he saw was not a vivid hallucination—that Scoops Ahoy is, in fact, real.
And so are the ridiculous sailor outfits.
Well, I’ll be damned, Eddie thinks.
Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington are an incredibly unlikely duo. It’s like the universe abandoned all sense, spun a wheel and paired them up just for the fun of it.
When he joins the line for ice-cream, Eddie initially thinks he’ll find the whole thing laughable: seeing people forced to work together when usually the laws of the universe (and Hawkins High) would keep them as far apart as possible.
But then he discovers that the ice-cream parlor is packed, one hell of a bottleneck forming right up at the counter, where folks are waiting for a seemingly never-ending amount of floats to be poured.
It takes a while for Eddie to near the front of the line; enough time passes that he honestly feels kind of bad for even taking up a spot, for adding to the workload that has Robin shouting herself hoarse with every, “Next please!”
He strongly considers just leaving, but he hesitates for a moment too long, and unintentionally meets eyes with…
“Hi,” Steve says, pleasantly enough, if a little distracted as he prods at the soda machine. He smiles apologetically. “Be with you in a sec.”
Eddie almost wants to tell him you know it’s me, right? He doesn’t.
It’s not that he expects Steve to be mean, exactly; it’s just that he’s getting more than familiar with the whole post graduation routine. It’s like there’s a secret page in folks’ yearbooks, instructing them to look at anyone still attached to high school with either indifference or embarrassment—or both.
Steve must not have got the memo.
“Next!”
Robin beckons Eddie forward with a sweeping arm gesture, looks somewhere behind him and sighs in relief, puffing out her cheeks.
“Oh, thank God. You stopped the tide.”
Eddie glances over his shoulder; sure enough, he’s the last person left to order.
“Don’t think I’ve got that power, Buckley.”
Robin raises an eyebrow. “Debatable.”
Eddie almost laughs. There was a rumour in his first attempt at senior year that he could curse people: it only came about because he ominously whispered some Pig Latin he’d once overheard Robin herself use during History, and Molly Pritchard crossed herself in horror.
“I’ll have a vanilla cup.”
“Ooh,” Robin says dryly, “adventurous.”
“Nothing wrong with a classic,” Eddie says.
Robin smirks as she rings him up. They don’t know each other that well, but there’s admittedly something nice in the distant familiarity they share; at the very least, she’s not gonna add to any potential awfulness when school starts again.
While Robin hands over his change, Steve is filling up a cup—Eddie would say he’s uncharacteristically quiet, except for the fact that he doesn’t actually know what truly is characteristic of Steve Harrington.
Plus he’s stuck on the fact that he only paid for one scoop, but the amount of ice-cream Steve manages to cram in is almost double that.
And he does this ridiculous little twirly thing with the scooper before he even reaches for the tray of vanilla.
Eddie tells himself he notices just because the move is so stupid; it’s definitely not because he’s noticing Steve’s hands in general. It’s just… eyes get drawn to movement. That’s all.
“Syrup?” Steve asks, nodding his head at the dispensers.
“Sure,” Eddie says. “Strawberry.”
Steve wrinkles his nose. “Oh, don’t do that, man. Get it with butterscotch.”
Robin’s eyes rise to the heavens, as if some longstanding argument has begun once again.
“And why should I do that, Harrington?” Eddie says.
“Because,” Steve says, like he’s patiently explaining that two plus two equals four, “butterscotch is better. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Robin parrots mockingly. She closes the register drawer and says, “I’m taking my break, Popeye. Try not to judge the customers too hard.”
Eddie’s pretty sure he hears Steve mutter under his breath as she leaves, “Seriously? You’re worse than me.”
His cup of ice-cream is under hostage, apparently. Steve still hasn’t pressed down on the damn syrup pump.
“This your usual sales technique?” Eddie says. “Browbeating the customers?”
“Only the lucky ones,” Steve returns mildly.
Eddie scoffs. “Fine. Gimme the damn butterscotch then.”
“Knew you’d come to your senses,” Steve says.
He hands the cup over without any more quips; just as he’s done with the syrup, a large family swoops in with multiple sundae orders.
Eddie eats the ice-cream while waiting for the bus back home. He grudgingly has to admit that the butterscotch isn’t bad.
But that’s not really what’s bugging him.
He has to know if it’s a fluke—if maybe, just maybe, Steve Harrington only deigned to talk to him because he was, like… delirious or something. Maybe the flood of demanding customers scrambled his brain.
Of course, when Eddie goes back to the mall, it’s purely to test his theory. Strictly observational—educational, even. Like… summer school. (Take that, O’Donnell.)
The bus drops them off a little bit before the mall actually opens, but they’re allowed inside anyway. Eddie inwardly cringes at the sight of grown adults tapping persistently on the windows of still closed stores. Jesus Christ, they’re worse than zombies.
Scoops Ahoy isn’t open yet either; Eddie’s soon witness to a very stressed looking Steve striding over to unlock the place.
He flits in and out of view for a while, taking mops round to the back, filling up the jars of toppings.
Eddie actually considers heading over to Waldenbooks to check if it’s open (it’s not like he’s coming here for one store in particular, obviously), but then he hears metal clacking against the tiles.
When he looks back at Scoops Ahoy, he spots a set of keys on the ground right at the entrance, Steve nowhere in sight.
Goddamn it. He’s gonna have to be a Good Samaritan. Ugh.
Eddie briefly looks up to the ceiling as if he can condemn the ways of the universe from here. Then he sighs, picks up the keys and steps into the store.
“Harrington, you dropped these—”
“Shit,” comes Steve’s voice from the back, followed by an almighty clatter.
Eddie hesitates before his curiosity inevitably wins out.
He goes behind the register, through the door and finds the aftermath of complete disaster: Steve standing in front of an entire vat of ice-cream that’s been dropped onto the floor. It’s splattered all up his legs, cookies and cream clinging to the hairs.
Holy shit, stop thinking about his leg hair, Eddie thinks.
Up until this point in time, he’d believed it was physically impossible to look anything other than comical in that stupid sailor outfit.
(Well. Almost.)
But right now Steve looks absolutely tragic. Like he’s a crew member on the Titanic levels of tragic, and he’s about to deliver the news that there’s simply no more lifeboats.
Steve meets Eddie’s gaze.
“That was limited edition,” he says pitifully.
They both look down at the floor.
“Well,” Eddie says. “It definitely is now. Still, uh, what’s the phrase? No use crying over spilled… ice-cream.”
“Oh, I’m not gonna cry over it,” Steve says. “I’m gonna scream.” For a moment he looks murderous. “Robin’s not coming in.”
“Is she sick?”
Steve snorts. “Sick my ass. No, she’s keeping The Hawk in business—gonna see a movie about an ice-cream parlor, something like that.”
“An ice-cream parlor,” Eddie echoes. “Um. Are you sure she didn’t just make it up?”
Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s one of those foreign—never mind.”
He cuts himself off, lifts up one foot, as if he’s become aware of his predicament all over again.
“I was fine with her ditching, she can do whatever; it’s not like we have managers checking up on us. But I forgot a huge delivery was coming, and it’s Saturday so it’s gonna be crazy, so I’m not gonna have time to put all of it in the freezer or check the stock chart, so it’s all just gonna become fucking soup, Jesus, maybe I should just throw everything on the floor and—”
“I could help,” Eddie interrupts, because apparently a little alien has burrowed into his brain and now he just says things.
Steve stares at him. “Why would you do that?”
“Yeah, uh, sorry,” Eddie says. He wishes his brain-invading alien an immediate death. “Bad idea, just—”
“No, I mean why would you do that? Dude, it’s not like I can pay you or—”
“I don’t really have plans,” Eddie says—oh great, the alien hasn’t died! “Uh, you can pay me with, like, a name tag?” What? Stop talking. “Like a souvenir?” Stop! “Oh sorry,” Steve says, as if on automatic pilot. He pulls at his shirt. “We don’t have—our names are stitched on.”
I was kidding about the name tag. Actually, maybe you should just murder me instead.
By some miracle, Eddie’s expression must somehow still look fairly normal because Steve continues, deadly serious, “Munson. Are you sure?”
This is the time to back out—
“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Look, man, it’s no big deal. I can clean this up and—”
A bell starts ringing from the front, being struck over and over again in the most obnoxious way possible.
Something in Steve’s eyes flickers, a shift from panic into planning mode, and Eddie has the sudden bizarre feeling that this is what the basketball team saw whenever a crisis timeout was called.
“You sure you’re okay if I leave you back here?” Steve asks, and the gravity with which he says it threatens to send Eddie into hysterics—Christ, you’d think they were in the goddamn trenches.
“Think I’ll survive,” Eddie says. “I’m basically cleaning up, and putting everything into the freezer?”
Steve nods. “And, um, a stock check too, if that’s okay? There’s a chart pinned up, you just gotta count the flavours and put, like, tally marks next to—”
“Oh my God, not tally marks,” Eddie drawls. “The horror.”
Steve huffs. “I was just—”
The bell rings even more insistently.
“Uh, think you’re needed on the front line,” Eddie says.
He nearly chokes on his own spit when Steve turns to just march right on out there.
“Harrington, wait! Your—your legs,” he says weakly.
Steve has the audacity to look puzzled. “What about them?”
They’re very long.
Eddie gestures silently to the ice-cream on the floor, then attempts a vague hovering motion in the direction of Steve’s legs.
Steve’s eyes go wide in realisation. His cheeks turn slightly red. “Oh! Yeah, um, thanks. Um. I’ll just…”
He disappears into the world’s tiniest restroom, comes back free of cookies and cream before heading out to the front.
Well, Eddie thinks to the mop he finds, this is definitely a situation.
It’s not the worst way he’s spent a few hours, apart from having to listen to a Sailor’s Hornpipe on loop through the speakers (he briefly wonders how Robin and Steve stay sane). He cleans up, gets the rest of the delivery into the freezer, even jots down some tally marks, wonder of wonders.
Steve will occasionally slide back the shutters and pop his head in, passing over a soda.
“Employee perks,” he says, then has to hurriedly retreat to keep serving.
Eddie keeps waiting for the stiltedness to set in, but it seems Steve’s far too busy for there to be any awkwardness.
At midday the shutter slides back again and Steve says, “Hey, can you do me one last thing, and I’ll never ask you for anything ever again, I swear.”
“Harrington, you’ve technically never asked me for anything. Gimme the mission.”
Turns out the mission is just to use some employee only coupons at Burger King so Steve can take his lunch.
Eddie returns to Scoops Ahoy with two burgers to find that Steve’s strategically placed a pile of chairs and wet floor signs at the threshold to deter people from entering.
There’s also a hand-drawn sign on top of one of the chairs: Out for Lunch. Underneath, there’s a horrendously bad drawing of a ship on choppy waves.
Eddie tries very hard to not find it endearing.
He gives Steve a burger, hops onto the table in the back and starts eating his own.
A quarter of the way through, he realises that he could leave now—he’s done everything Steve’s asked, and Steve’s already said he can manage the remaining shift on his own now that the delivery’s been put away.
Huh. Well, he’s already gone to all the effort of sitting here…
Steve’s quiet for most of his lunch. Eddie doesn’t mind; he enjoys his free food, comes up with a half-baked campaign idea before discarding it, counts every tile in the room…
Looks over.
Steve’s sat with one leg hunched up to his chest, a book resting on his knee—the cover’s folded over the back as he reads, the spine broken. Eddie doesn’t know why on earth it’s attractive, but it is; he feels like some mooning middle schooler, entranced by the way their stupid crush eats spaghetti or some bullshit like that.
But then again, there’s always been an easy grace to Steve Harrington.
A beeping noise; Steve checks his wristwatch with a sigh.
“Ugh.”
He leaves the book on the table, at just the right angle for Eddie to read the title: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy.
“Is it good?”
“Hmm? Oh. Yeah, I’m only a couple chapters in, so…” Steve shrugs. “Honestly, it’s the most I’ve read since starting high school.”
And Eddie gets that: the senior years he’s suffered through have left him each time with a brain like a wrung out sponge, not even having the energy for Tolkien.
God. At this rate he’s never gonna read for fun ever again.
His face must do something because Steve opens and closes his mouth a few times before saying, a little hesitant, “Hey, I’m sorry you never, uh… made it through, y’know? You—you were so close, man.” Eddie doesn’t bother wasting time on being pissed that Steve knows some of the details: ‘test results’ and ‘confidentiality’ don’t exactly go together in Hawkins High.
“Yeah, uh. Thanks. Here’s hoping third time’s the charm.”
Steve claps his shoulder. “You’ll do it, it was just tough this year. Like, I scraped through, trust me.”
Eddie snorts—he would literally kill to have a handful of Steve’s grades.
“Think my definition of ‘scraped through’ is different to yours.”
He helps Steve disassemble the mountain of chairs, and now it really is obvious that he could just leave; he only has to take a few steps, and then he’s out of there.
But he pauses.
The store is still empty.
Eddie shuffles back from the doorway. “Ice-cream for the road?”
Steve laughs. “Sure. Least I can do.”
He doesn’t ask Eddie what he wants, just serves a vanilla cup with butterscotch syrup.
Eddie suddenly feels himself fighting a smile. “Think you’ve got an agenda, man.”
“Nope. Just giving you the superior choice, Munson.”
Then Steve picks up an empty cup and pours more butterscotch into it, nothing else. He knocks it back like a shot. “Gross,” Eddie says.
Steve flashes him a syrup-streaked grin.
It’s so… juvenile.
If it wasn’t for the fact that they’re in a mall, Eddie would almost think that he’d gone back a few years, made an unexpected temporary friend that goofed off with him in the back of the class.
He finishes his ice-cream as more people flock to the counter; in what seems like no time at all, Steve’s ushering Eddie out, pulling down the security grille.
It feels a bit like a soap bubble has burst. Like the bell’s unexpectedly rung at the end of last period, in a class he was actually enjoying, against all odds.
Steve does say, quite sincerely, “Thanks, Munson. You didn’t have to… you really saved my ass.”
Eddie’s about to clumsily work his way through some reply about how it was nothing, but then they really do have to go, because some stern-faced security guard’s staring like he might vaporise them.
It’s just one day, Eddie thinks. A… what’s-it-called. An anomaly.
But he goes back to the mall the next afternoon. He doesn’t bother to make up an excuse even in his own head.
Scoops Ahoy is somehow even more packed this time—Steve’s serving up samples while Robin’s back at the register, and when she sees Eddie coming, she points at the vanilla, mouths, “The classic?”
He chuckles, nods. “How was your movie, Buckley?”
“No idea what you’re talking about,” she says serenely. “I was very sick.” She coughs delicately.
“Praying for your miraculous recovery.”
He gets vanilla with butterscotch syrup (just because Robin’s the closest to that particular dispenser, that’s all).
It’s so busy that once Robin’s finished at the register, she starts filling orders alongside Steve. When Eddie picks up his cup, they barely look at him, surrounded by other cups and plastic bowls laid out for ice-cream.
Figures. Eddie knows it’s not personal. Just. Soap bubble’s burst, and all that.
He’s almost out the store when he hears a whistle.
“Hey, Munson! Go long!”
“Fuck off, no,” Eddie says automatically, a response drilled into him from many a compulsory Phys Ed class.
But he turns, just in time to see Steve throw something at him. He catches it—it’s plastic, round—somehow manages to keep a hold of his ice-cream, too.
Steve gives a brief thumbs up, before he’s back to scooping. He still finds time to do that stupid twirl move again.
Once outside, Eddie opens up his hand. Snorts.
It’s a shitty white badge, chipped in several places. His name’s scrawled on it in red marker, a cartoony anchor in the upper right corner.
On the bus home, Eddie mulls over the thought of flicking through a couple chapters of The Hobbit, something like that. No pressure, no notes—no imagining the year ahead, a teacher looming over his shoulder. Just for fun.
There’s plenty of time.
He puts his souvenir in his pocket, takes another spoonful of ice-cream.
And he has to admit that butterscotch is pretty damn good.
3K notes · View notes
nejiverse · 7 months
Text
FORGETFULNESS
Gojo Satoru
In which Gojo’s forgetfulness earns him the silent treatment from his two girls. Fem! Reader
cw: none and omg its been like a month since ive written anything im shocked tbh lol i’ll try to get through requests! Not proofread
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600 words
You could hear your husband sigh loudly and dramatically even though he wasn't in the same room as you.
You rolled your eyes and couldn't stop the smile creeping up to your lips as you ran a hand through your daughter's hair, opting to do two pigtails for her as per her request.
Another sigh came from Gojo's lips but this time it sounded closer. You looked at his reflection through the bathroom mirror and were met with the man child peeping through the gap between the door and door frame with a pout on his face.
Your daughter— who was sat comfortably on the counter near the sink— made eye contact with her father but quickly closed her eyes and folded her arms with an even more dramatic huff (like father like daughter).
"D/n please! I said i'm sorry! I promise i'll never ever do it again!", Gojo wailed.
His daughter who was refusing to talk to him, pointed an accusing finger at him through the mirror. "Leave me alone papa!".
"It was one birthday! I always remember the rest of their birthdays!", he lied. He didn't remember a single one of his daughter's stuffed animal's birthdays, there was just so many. It’s what he gets for buying her another one every week. He set reminders on his phone to make sure he never forgets....but this time…he forgot.
It's not his fault, he’s a busy guy!
"Forgive me d/nnnnn!", he pleaded whilst clasping his hands together.
The little girl covered her ears with her hands cutely and closed her eyes, mumbling a string of 'lala's'. "I can't hear papa!".
You chuckled at her antics. "I can't seem to hear papa either", you quipped.
Gojo felt the betrayal deep within his soul. His two favourite girls were giving him the silent treatment.
"Not you too!", he looked at you with a frown. If Gojo were a dog, his ears would definitely be droopy right now.
Jokes on you guys, he came prepared.
"Aw, I guess i'll have to eat this cake aaaaaall by myself", he faked a sad expression and spun the cake around, giving you two a full glimpse of the delicious dessert.
You wouldn't put it past him either, he would definitely finish the whole cake by himself.
"Maybe I can hear papa a little bit", the little girl couldn't help the endearing smile tugging at the sides of her lips.
You shook your head at Gojo's little bribery trick as you placed two pink bows onto her hair.
"Only a little bit?", he tilted his head.
"A lot bit!", she giggled and extended her arms out to Gojo who gladly carried her in one hand and held the cake in the other.
Gojo looked at you as you leaned back against the counter.
"And what about you?".
"Toru, half of the time I hear you before I'm able to see you, and that’s not a compliment".
He scrunched up his face. "You could've said something cute like I always hear you Toru, I love you!".
"Yuck", you grimaced jokingly.
"Yuck!", the little girl spat her tongue despite not knowing exactly what was going on.
masterlist :)
1K notes · View notes
roosterforme · 3 months
Text
Smarter Than the Average Beer Boy | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: After months of attending your lectures, Bradley has honed his math skills beyond his wildest expectations. A night out with the boys reveals just how smart and endearing your husband really is, even when he has a hangover.
Warnings: Swears, fluff, drinking, oral sex, shirtless Beer Boy, 18+
Length: 3100 words
Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)
Happy birthday to @cherrycola27!
This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time but it can be read on its own! Banner by @thedroneranger Check out my masterlist
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You were on your way to teach your last class of the day, and it was your least favorite one. When the class schedules were being organized for next semester, you planned on begging Dr. Rosenthal to let you trade this awful linear algebra class away for one of his calculus lectures. Because at least calculus was something to which you could add a little spice to keep your students interested, unlike this one.
Even though you already ate the snack your husband packed in your tie dye lunchbox, you were still hungry. You'd have to remind him to pack you something extra next Thursday. But as you were on your way to the lounge to quickly get something from the vending machine, you heard his voice. 
"Sugar."
You spun around in your loafers and tweed skirt and saw your husband in full khaki uniform heading your way. "Beer Boy. What are you doing here?" you asked, giving up on the idea of a snack and heading in his direction instead. "I'm about to give a lecture."
"I know," he said with a smirk, voice all deep and raspy. "I got dismissed early, and I stopped at home to get you a snack. Thought maybe I could join your lecture tonight since I won't get to spend tomorrow evening with you."
You almost dropped your notebook as you wrapped your arms around his waist and propped your chin on his chest. "Are you my snack?" you asked as he leaned down to kiss you.
"Nor exactly," he laughed, holding up two small containers. "I brought you some homemade hummus and pita chips. But if you want to skip your lecture and head up to your office, I'd be more than happy to fuck you while I feed you."
"Tempting," you told him with a moan. He was always so sure of himself when he was with you, and it was a massive turn on. But when he grinned and started pulling you toward the elevators, you had to dig your loafers in. "I can't let my students down," you said with a little pout. "Come on. You can sit in the back and take notes."
"Nah. I'll just watch my hot wife in action. Take some mental notes that I can think about at the bachelor party tomorrow night."
You rolled your eyes as you took the containers from him. "You'll have so much fun with Jake and the boys, you won't even be thinking about me at all."
"Newsflash, Dr. Sugar," he whispered as you entered the lecture hall with his hand on your butt. "I'm always thinking about you."
-----------------------
Yes, it was fun watching you work. Your lectures were informative, and you were very passionate about the subject. You were also gorgeous, and Bradley wouldn't mind watching you do this all day long. And sure, he loved that you wrote a few problems on the board for your students to work through so you could eat the hummus and pita chips he brought. And yeah, he squirmed a bit in his seat when you winked at him from the podium as you licked your fingertip. 
But the really interesting thing was the fact that Bradley was getting pretty fucking good at math now. If he could go back to undergrad studies, he might even choose it as his major instead of political science. Nobody ever really encouraged him to show off his smarts after his mom died. Well, besides you. There was something about the way you always recognized that he was intelligent that made him fall even harder for you. And since he knew what it felt like to live without you for ten years, he didn't mind watching you teach the same classes over and over. He just wanted to be around you.
When you asked if there were any volunteers to work through the problem, Bradley was able to follow every detail and come up with the correct answer from his seat. And when you finally ended the class, he went up to the front of the room and kissed your cheek right in front of the straggling students. "Any chance you can bring one of the homework sheets home for me to work on later this weekend?" he asked, stealing your last pita chip.
You looked up at him with adoring eyes, and it wasn't fair, because you knew what those little tweed skirts did to him. "You're really going to work on a problem set?" 
"Yeah," he told you with a shrug. "Why not? This class was fun, and maybe you can check my answers and reward me?" he asked hopefully. 
"If you want to be my top student, you better get them all correct." You ran your fingers along the front of his khakis as you picked up your notebook and started walking away.
"I'll be so good, Baby," he promised as he followed you out. He was planning on working on the problems on Sunday after he spent all day Saturday recovering from Jake's bachelor party. Tomorrow night was for the boys, but tonight he would be spending with you. 
When he got you home, he boiled a pot of water for some of the homemade pasta he made and dried last weekend, and he started heating up some of his homemade sauce and meatballs. "This is so fucking sexy," you whispered, rubbing up on him in your tweed while you sipped a beer. "You are really good at feeding me."
He stole the bottle and drank some. "You're really good at everything else." When he tried to hand it back, you just shook your head and dropped slowly to your knees. He was already a little hard from all the tweed rubbing, but then you kissed his zipper, and his dick responded immediately. "Look at that. I didn't even have to do the math problems."
You grinned up at him while he sipped the beer. "Maybe this is just a little reminder for you to be good tomorrow night when you're out with the boys. No drinking and driving. No letting them get into fights. No playing beer pong without me. If you're good, then there's more where this came from."
Bradley was really enjoying the cold beer as you undid his belt and button before you eased his zipper down. "I'll be so good. I'm a hundred percent domesticated."
You moaned as his cock sprang free, and you rubbed your face against him. "I know." He was about to tell you he'd been that way since the two of you were college seniors, but suddenly all coherent thoughts left his brain. You were gently kissing his balls as you ran your fingers up underneath his shirt and teased his abs. "You're a very good boy."
His cock was throbbing and tapping you on the cheek as your tongue flicked out to taste him. "Sugar," he grunted before sipping the beer again. 
"Hmm." You were looking up at him as your lips barely met his skin. "What should I do with you?" Somehow you were making Bradley feel submissive even though you were on your knees for him, and he tipped his head back and groaned.
"Fuck me up, Sugar."
"Gladly," you replied, and he felt your tongue draw a slow and steady line from his tight balls all the way to the head of his cock. Bradley watched as you took the very tip of his bouncing length between your pretty lips. All you did was hold eye contact as you sucked on him like he was a piece of candy, your fingers tickling the trail of hair below his belly button, and he was mesmerized. 
"Those pouty lips will be the death of me," he whispered before sipping the beer again. "So fucking pretty." You sucked on him a little harder, and he clenched. Damn, you hadn't even taken him deep yet, and he was already eager. But he didn't care, because you already knew what you did to him.
Then you popped him free, rubbed your nose against his trimmed pubes before kissing his tip and said, "I love you." Then you grabbed him by the hips and let him slide all the way so he was tapping the back of your throat. 
"Oh, fuck," he grunted, already thinking about you gagging on his cum. You shook your head slightly when he was deep, and tears filled your eyes as you sucked. Bradley gripped the bottle, his voice only a harsh whisper as he said, "That's it. That's it. Fuck."
A few more deep thrusts had you struggling, which was honestly so fucking hot to him. You were making desperate little sounds, but you bobbed on him until you gagged. And that's really all it took.
You moaned as he filled your mouth, and he ran his thumb along your cheek as you gently sucked every drop from him. "Show it to me," he whispered softly and you smiled as you released him. Slowly, you parted your lips and tilted your face up for him, showing off your cupped tongue full of his cum. "Beautiful."
Then you swallowed him down and kissed his drained balls once more before you stood and took the beer bottle from his hand. Casually, you took a sip like you didn't just leave him twitching before you. "Is dinner almost ready?"
He was still thinking about it the next night when he was out with all the guys. Jake was marrying Jessica in a month, and all he asked for was a night of bar hopping. Normally Bradley would have been very good at this, but he was thinking about the way he'd fed you bites of pasta while standing in the kitchen as you moaned over how delicious it was. 
"Come on, Rooster, have a shot," Payback said, passing him some tequila. Just a few drinks would help him focus on the night with the guys. "Bottoms up." 
But at first, the drinks just made him think about calling you to see what you were up to. Jessica was supposed to stop by the house to hang out for a while, and he wondered if she was still there. Maybe she left and you were already changed into his Grateful Dead shirt for bed. Maybe he could just get an Uber right now and go home and find out for himself. He'd slip right into bed next to you. 
"Time for the karaoke bar!" Javy announced, and then Bradley had more shots in front of him before he ended up onstage, and he couldn't be sure where his shirt went, but oh well, it didn't really matter since his favorite shirt was at home with you, and it was suddenly time to sing. 
But he did remember to text you and let you know he'd be home very late.
-------------------------
Having the empty house to yourself felt a bit like it did when Bradley was deployed. So in that respect, it made you a little antsy. But on the other hand, it was peaceful when you had Jessica over for some snacks and a glass of wine. It was close to midnight when a bunch of photos came through to your phone and hers. 
"Oh no," she groaned as you scrolled through the images from Mickey. It appeared as though Bradley lost his shirt. Typical. 
"They are a mess," you muttered, finally getting to one where the guys were physically holding Jake up. "You're going to have your work cut out for you tomorrow."
She shook her head but laughed. "I think I'll head home and wait for him. I don't know if he'll even be able to make it from the front door to the bedroom without help."
"Bradley doesn't look much better," you added as you got to the last photo where he was chugging a beer, the amber liquid dribbling down his neck and bare chest. "Oh Lord."
"Call me tomorrow and let me know how bad it is?"
"Yeah," you agreed, walking her to the door and giving her a hug. 
And then you were met with silence again. You changed into Bradley's tie dye shirt and his robe that he'd had since college, but you weren't even slightly tired now. You glanced across the hallway to your office door covered in your own handwriting. 
SUGAR LOVES BEER BOY
Working through an advanced calculus problem before bed would definitely help you unwind. You walked to your white board while you looked up a problem on your phone and then scribbled it down and got to work. Oh, this one was a bit tricky with lots of side math to complete first. The squeak of your marker was soothing, and by the time you got to your tenth line in the proof solution, you were yawning.
"Works like a charm," you muttered, capping the marker and heading back across the hall where you climbed into bed. 
At one point during the night, you thought you heard Bradley stumble in the front door. "Beer Boy?" you called out, rolling over in bed.
You heard him slur, "It's just me, Sugar," followed by the sound of the refrigerator opening up. He'd come to bed eventually after he got a snack. You scooted back all the way to your side, preemptively trying to avoid him being a sticky, sweaty mess. You smiled and curled up, and you were back to sleep in seconds. 
But he never did come to bed, as evidenced by the still crisp bedding on his side when you woke up again at nine. You stretched and climbed out from the pocket of warmth and reached for his robe before you went to search the house. 
You started in the kitchen, thinking that being near the refrigerator might have been more appealing than the bed, but he wasn't there. You glanced out back and on the living room couch, but you didn't see him anywhere. 
"Bradley?" you called out as you looked in the bathroom, but he hadn't even fallen asleep in the tub. You pressed your lips together as you poked your head inside your office and gasped. "Seriously?"
He was sound asleep on the floor, his shirt nowhere to be seen, and he was snoring loudly. An empty ice cream carton and spoon were next to his head, and it looked like he'd eaten a value sized bag of pretzels. There were a few more wrappers and a lot of crumbs on the floor, and you just gaped at him as he started to roll onto his side and look around.
"What the fuck? Why is it such a mess in here? I just cleaned on Wednesday," he groaned, hair sticking up at every angle. He tilted his head and looked up at you through squinted eyes. "What happened?"
You gave him an incredulous look. "Why don't you tell me?"
He continued to look around the room as he sat up. "I don't know," he replied, pushing the pretzel bag to the side as he cradled his forehead in his palm. "Last thing I remember is the guys making me sing Caress Me Down for karaoke. Where's my shirt?"
Your deep sigh should have been warning enough for him, but he looked down at his abs, shocked that he was only wearing half of his outfit. "Once again, Bradley, why don't you tell me?"
"Baby, how am I supposed to know?" he whined. "God, now I have a fucking hangover, and I can't think."
If Jake was also this bad at the moment, then Jessica might need a reassuring phone call later. Hopefully he hadn't destroyed the carpet in their condo. You needed to get Bradley into the shower and then put him in bed so you could clean up the floor, but your eyes caught on your white board, and you gasped. "Bradley."
"What now?" he moaned as he got to his hands and knees in the crumbs. "My head is throbbing."
Your eyes skimmed from the top of the board to the very bottom, and you started laughing. He was looking up at you, confusion swirling along his handsome features as you had to brace your hands on your knees while you gasped for air and cackled. "Beer Boy!"
"Okay, yes," he grunted. "I'm beginning to think I was actually the one who made the mess in here, but I'll clean it up. It's not that funny."
"Bradley!" you screeched, pointing to the board. "You solved my advanced calculus problem!"
Slowly and seemingly painfully, he turned his head to look and crawled closer to the wall. "I don't think so," he muttered. "I don't even know what all of that means." He was standing on his knees, and trying so hard to figure it out. "Holy shit, that's my handwriting."
"It definitely is," you said through your laughter as you gently combed your fingers through his messy hair. He practically melted against your leg with his big hand on your thigh below his robe. "I am... somehow really impressed by this? You got drunk, got a ride home at four in the morning, and then you solved an advanced math problem before you passed out on my office floor."
"Yeah, I'm impressive as hell," he whispered, kissing you through the robe fabric. 
"You know... if you weren't so terribly hungover, I'd offer to blow you again like yesterday. Because this is something only my very best student would be able to do. And I love rewarding my best student." 
You stroked his cheek softly with your knuckles as he stared up at you with parted lips. "Professor Sugar," he rasped. "I'm totally fine. Barely hungover at all."
"Are you sure?" you laughed. "You look a little rough. And you made a huge mess."
"Yeah," he replied immediately. "I'm great. Wanna join me in the shower?"
You bent to kiss his forehead and whispered, "If you think you can handle it."
"Hell yes," he groaned, trying three times before he was able to get to his feet. Then he took you by the hand, and you helped him down the hallway to the bathroom. 
You pointed out the small closet on the way. "And when we're done, the vacuum cleaner is just hanging out right in there, waiting for you to clean up my office."
"Yeah, okay."
------------------------
Happy birthday, Nik! When you mentioned this idea, it had me cracking up. I hope you enjoy it as a birthday gift one day early! Thanks @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@chassy21
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sincerestlove · 2 months
Text
Insecure - R.G.
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i hope you enjoy <3
Pairing: Regina George x Reader
Warnings: None
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“God, this outfit looks awful too!” Regina groaned loudly, haphazardly tossing her top across the room, landing somewhere on the floor along with the numerous others. She had been looking for an outfit for the better part of an hour now, for Karen’s graduation party. You sighed, a small smile tugging at the edges of your lips at the sight of your frustrated girlfriend.
You two had been together since sophomore year, now both scholarly graduates and attending the same school in the fall. The summer had just begun, and all of your friends were throwing their own respective graduation parties before you all went your separate ways.
You had just finished applying mascara at her vanity, turning to glance over your shoulder. “Gina.” You called out to her, but soon realized she didn’t even hear you over the grumbles and complaints that she was making under her breath. You stood up then, walking over to see her rifling through hangers inside the massive closet.
She jumped in surprise when you rested your hands on her tensed shoulders, her head whipping around, blonde hair almost smacking you in the face. “What is it, Y/N? I’m trying to find something to wear.” She spoke sharply, visibly stressed as the clock was ticking closer toward your departure time. You didn’t reply nor take her tone personally, instead gently tugging her toward the armchair seated in the corner of the closet. You physically pushed her down, motioning for her to sit, her bright blue eyes looking at you pointedly. “Really? We can’t have sex right now.” You sputtered a laugh, leaning down to press a kiss to the blonde’s forehead.
“Regina, I’m not trying to have sex right now. Just sit down and be quiet. I’m picking an outfit for you.” She raised a brow at your bold choice of words, but leaned back in the chair, letting out a breath. You booped her nose playfully, before turning to her mounds of clothing.
Taking a moment to take it all in, you moved to grab a pair of high waisted jeans, a tight fitting long sleeved pink top, and her signature docs. Holding up the outfit, you nodded in approval, handing Regina the clothes. She pursed her lips, but looked satisfied with your choices. You left the closet to allow her to change, moving back over to the vanity to make some last minute touch-ups to your light makeup and hair.
“Does this look okay?”
You spun around and felt butterflies in your stomach, taking in your girlfriend’s appearance. She looked gorgeous, top and jeans fitting her perfectly. You got up and walked over to Regina, who had a nervous furrow between her brow. You reached up, cupping her face and smoothing down the lines. “You look absolutely breathtaking, Gina. So beautiful.”
You saw a soft blush rise onto her cheeks, looking down bashfully. “I don’t know if I like it. My arms look huge.” You sighed, taking her hands and leading her to sit in front of the vanity. Carefully adjusting, you decided to sit on her lap, tucking a few strands of soft hair behind her ears.
She looked vulnerable, eyes filled with anxiety and self-doubt. The sight tugged at your heart. You cupped her face again, making sure not to ruin her makeup. “Gina, you look so pretty. You’re the prettiest girl in the world and you’ll be the prettiest girl at that party, as always.” You spoke sincerely, moving closer to press a soft kiss to her lips. Her hands came up to grip your hips, squeezing gently, but she didn’t say anything. “I’m serious. You are literally so pretty, it makes me want to scream.” She laughed at that one, bright teeth on display. You giggled along with her, kissing her again.
This time, she slightly deepened the kiss, teeth nipping and tugging at your bottom lip. A hand came up to tug on your hair, moving your head back. Regina took the opportunity to move her lips down to your exposed neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin, leaving bruises in her path. Your head lolled back, moving up to rest your forearms on the cold vanity behind you. Regina continued kissing your neck, hands moving to sneak up your shirt, long nails dragging up and down your sides.
“Regina.” You warned, biting your lips to stifle the sounds threatening to spill out. “We have to get going, or we’ll be late.” The blonde hummed, feeling her smile against your neck.
“And?”
“Gina.”
“Ugh, fine.”
She groaned annoyedly, a small pout on her perfectly painted lips. You laughed, kissing her pout away with small pecks. “Later, I promise. Anything you want, I’m yours.”
“Anything?” She grinned, head cocked to the side. She looked absolutely adorable.
“Yes, Gina. Anything.” She smiled triumphantly.
As if I could ever say no to her.
She paused for a minute, fixing my shirt. “Thank you, by the way.” She spoke, eyes looking up at me with softness.
“For complimenting you and talking about how beautiful and hot you are? I can do that all day, baby.” You smiled, kissing her soft lips one more time, before moving to get off her lap and holding out a hand for her. We both grabbed our respective purses and Regina grabbed her car keys on our way out the door.
Once outside and in front of her bright pink Jeep, Regina moved to open the door for me, gesturing dramatically with her arm. “Get in, cutie. We’ve got a party to get to.”
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thank you so much for reading!! :)
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cryptidghostgirl · 3 months
Text
Caged Bird (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Description: Y/n wakes up, her wings gone and her mind fuzzy. What will ensue? PART TWO TO MY ONE SHOT UNDERSTAND.
Link to Part One: Understand (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)
Warnings: Uh, brief mentions of bandages and pain and stuff. Toxic relationships. Kidnapping?? What you'd expect to come after part one.
Word Count: 1,500
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
A/N you guys have been like, breaking my door down for this one.
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The world spun circles around Y/n as she opened her eyes. Memories as blurry as her vision, she struggled to bring her surroundings into focus. She could tell she was in a bed but not much else. Everything was different shades of red and unfamiliar, with a window to odd dark woods in her sight.
As the room settled into focus, the first thing she realized was that the window was not in fact a window. Instead, the room simply came to a point where the walls fractured and gave way to the outside. The second thing was that she was not alone.
"There you are, darling." came a hauntingly familiar voice from beside her, "I was starting to worry."
Everything came crashing down around her as she heard his voice. In her minds eye, Y/n watched the portal close. She saw her husband soaked in blood -- in her blood -- with that far off, crazed look in his eyes.
Alastor reached out to wipe a tear that threatened to fall from her eye and Y/n violently jerked away on instinct. Pain ricocheted through her body from the movement, stemming from the middle of her back. Emanating from the place where... she couldn't bring herself to think of it.
He let his hand hang there in the air by her face for a moment before bringing it back to his side with a sigh. Y/n turned her head to the side, her cheek pressing into the cool silk of the pillow case. She watched Alastor carefully.
There hadn't really been time when they first encountered one another in that ally to take in his new appearance. He leered over her, the same constant sharp tooth smile. Y/n couldn't help but notice that there was something there in the red glow of his eyes that was the same. It was the only thing that really remained of the man she had known. Well, that and the monocle.
"How are you feeling?"
"Awful."
With painstaking effort, Y/n pulled herself into a sitting position in the corner of the bed where it met the wall. As the blankets fell from her torso, she realized she'd been wrapped in crisp white bandages.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't give you anything for the pain until you woke up. Here."
Y/n looked up from the bandages to see that Alastor was holding a few pills and a glass of water out to her. She eyed them suspiciously.
"It's just aspirin."
"And you're just my fucking kidnapper. You're just the one person I was supposed to be able to trust completely."
Alastor's eyes fell to his hands. He took a deep breath.
"Y/-"
"You know," Y/n cut him off, her eyes falling to her hands as they fiddled with the blanket pooling in her lap, "I really thought you..."
Alastor looked over at her as her words fell off into silence. There were tears pooling in her eyes again. He didn't regret what he had done. No, it had been necessary. He couldn't lose her again. None of that mattered right now, however. It still hurt, to see her in such pain and know he was the cause.
"Thought what, my dear?" he prompted after a few moments.
"It's dumb." Y/n shook her head, still refusing to meet his eyes, "I was dumb."
"Now now, you know how I feel about you talking down about yourself. It is unbecoming and untrue."
Y/n shook her head again, letting out a small, sad, laugh. The sound was nothing more than a sharp exhale through her nose, it was rueful.
"I mean it, Y/n." Alastor insisted, "Tell me what is on your mind?"
As he spoke, he reached a hand out to her. He tried to hold her hand, he wanted to comfort her but Y/n flinched away again and so, he stopped his efforts.
"I thought you wouldn't hurt me." she admitted at last, meeting his eyes once again.
An arrow through his heart.
"I really thought you... I was so dumb."
"I'm not going to apologize." Alastor sighed after a moment, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms over his chest, "I did what I had to do."
"What you had to do?" Y/n really did laugh this time, her eyes searching the room before meeting his once again, "What you had to do, Al?"
"Yes. One day, you will realize that and you will thank me for it."
"Alastor fucking Hartfelt: no."
He stilled. It wasn't the usage of his full name, no. That he was used to hearing from his wife. She had a love of calling him it, it was a privilege in her mind. The real issue was that Y/n, the prim and proper precious girl he adored so much, had cursed. The only other time he'd heard her do that was when she had learned about his mother dying. She was serious.
"No." Y/n said again, shaking her head fervently as her gaze lowered to her lap, "I... in what world would I thank you for cutting the wings off my goddamn back? In what world.... how the fuck do you think things are ever going to be okay between us again?"
His hands slowly slid from his chest, falling loosely to his lap as Y/n met his eyes once again. She looked tired, she looked heartbroken. He hadn't meant for that.
"I..." Alastor searched for the words but they both knew there were none, "I didn't know what else to do."
"I told you I was going to figure something out!"
"And what if you didn't!?" Alastor yelled back, getting to his feet, "What if someone on your end found out and you got killed, for real killed."
He slammed his hands on the bed, leaning over Y/n who trembled slightly, her eyes wide.
"I did what I had to do." Alastor sighed, the anger falling from him as quickly as it had arrived, "Just... please. Please, Y/n. I couldn't lose you again."
Y/n's heart hurt. He was begging her. He had hurt her so much but, had the reasons really been that bad?
She knew he was right. With her plan, she would have most likely ended up dead or worse, with Adam forcing her to kill Alastor, or forcing her to try to at least.
He was begging her. He was begging her and even after what he had done, she loved him. Even after the violence, the pain, discovering his new nature, she loved him and was elated to be in his presence once again. Y/n wanted to scream, she wanted to cry. More than anything, she wanted to close her eyes and open them again to find it had all been a dream, open them to their sweet little house in the garden district -- alive.
"Please." Alastor said again, sinking to his knees as if in prayer, "Please, Y/n. I don't expect you to forgive me right away just try to understand where I'm coming from."
She watched him, his head in his hands, his eyes on the mattress. Y/n was angry. Because he was right, because she still wanted to scream, because god she just wanted him to hold her. Even knowing that he was the source of the pain, all she wanted was for him to hold her and make it all better. Because that was what Alastor did, what he had always done. He made things okay.
Life was easier with Alastor, life was lovely. Memories overtook Y/n, over took her reason and her anger and her fear. Tentatively, she reached a hand out and placed it on Alastor's head. He looked up at her, ears swiveling. Still smiling.
"Can you do anything else? Can you only smile?"
He hesitated a moment before shaking his head no and Y/n sighed.
"I..." Y/n trailed off, sighing once again.
She felt caught, trapped. Even if she wanted to go back to the hell of life as an exorcist, she couldn't. Options were limited: Alastor or alone. Y/n didn't think she wanted to be alone. Not now, not here, not like this.
"Can I have a hug?"
The question was small, her voice trembled. Alastor's eyes lit up. With a practiced grace, a practiced giving of space and time, he stood and sat down on the bed beside her. She fell into his chest, clutching his jacket as he wrapped his arms around her, careful to avoid the fresh wounds he had inflicted.
Y/n began to sob. Big heavy breaths, big wet tears soaking through his suit into his skin.
"It will all be okay." Alastor cooed, rubbing her shoulder gently, "It will all be okay."
And the worst part was, she beleived him. His words made her feel better. And the worst part was, Y/n began to smile.
----
A/N I looked up his last name and this is what the wiki said. Please don't be mad at me.
Tags:
@trashbin-nie @themoonitselff @lululucii @asianfrustration13 @sphynxtheweeb @nenerobobot @bumblebeebluebell @ast-jime @otherthoughtsofbu @sanemiswifeyxo1 @messyserver @rainyvandragon @xxwerefangxx @campgarbage @alexdelray1 @ellie-x0xo
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maxsimagination · 18 days
Note
can you write something for leah williamson
𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚 - 𝙡.𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙢𝙨𝙤𝙣
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warnings: smut. 18+ under the cut.
a/n: apologies katie you’re the sacrificial lamb for this fic ✋🏻
------
i’d never been a jealous person.
apparently that all changed last week.
the conti cup final was just around the corner and everyone was working hard at training. we just so happened to go up against chelsea, and if i’m being honest i was shit scared.
the last time we played the blues during the season, it was a brutal loss.
i knew that leah was vice captain, and that she loved all our teammates, and that she was close with most of them. but i just couldn’t shake the feeling of jealousy as i watched her play around with katie. i also knew that katie had a girlfriend, caitlin, whom she loved dearly. but something wasn’t sitting right with me that day.
i didn’t say anything, choosing to let it go and give leah the benefit of the doubt even though there was nothing for me to doubt.
everything was fine for a solid week, then we played against chelsea for the final. the nerves of the previous games between the two sides and the buzz of excitement that came with every match final was simmering in the change room as everyone got ready.
we were ready to take them down.
and thank god we did.
1-0 was a tight score but we did it nonetheless, stina our hero.
as leah and kim picked up the trophy and ran it over to celebrated with us all, i could feel that unsettling urge in my gut again.
watching the whole team each congratulate leah, but most of all watching katie jump on her, something snapped. again, i didn’t do anything, i was on the pitch and in public which didn’t give me any leeway. but when we finally, almost an hour and a half later, got home, i was grumpy and leah knew it.
“yn, i know something’s wrong, what’s up?”
“i’m fine.” i was not fine.
“no, tell me.”
she spun me around too face her just as i tried to walk away.
“you. and katie. i don’t like it.”
it took leah a second to figure out what i meant, but when she did, a devilish grin spread on her face.
“aw, baby, are you jealous?”
i could feel my cheeks go read at her words.
“no.”
“i think you are. there’s nothing going on between me and katie. promise.”
i was quiet for a moment, i knew that leah wouldn’t ever do anything like cheating on me. she must’ve sensed my hesitation, speaking up before i could.
“i’ll prove it to you.”
she grabbed my hand and pulled me with her to our bedroom. i had a small inkling that i knew where this was going, and i was proven right when leah pinned me against the wall as soon as we walked in.
she pressed her lips onto mine, practically devouring my mouth before breaking apart for some air.
“you can do whatever you want to me tonight, love.”
that caught my attention, leah was normally the one that took control.
“anything?”
“anything.”
i led her over to the bed, leaving her to strip while i went and rummaged in the toy drawer i knew leah had in her closet.
i found what i needed and set it aside on the bedside table.
leah was already on our bed, butt naked and kneeling for me. that sight alone made me clench, i could feel the wetness start to pool in my core. i took off my shirt and shorts, leaving me in just my underwear, no bra.
i could feel leah’s eyes on me, and the desire was swirling in her brown orbs.
i climbed up into the bed, face to face with her, pressing my lips back onto hers. she kissed hard, and soon it was a full blown make out session. my hands found their way to her chest, teasing her peaked nipples.
her hands found my hips, pulling me closer. i lightly pinched on of her breasts, i was in charge tonight and i intended to take advantage of that.
my hands travelled further downwards, below her hips and dipping into her folds, which were soaked. my thumb lightly rubbed circles on her clit as one of my fingers pushed into her hole.
she groaned into our ongoing kiss, to which i slowly added another finger.
soon i was pushing in and out of her, slowly working her up to an orgasm. she was close, i could tell, pushing her hips up to meet my thrusts and moaning into my mouth.
“yn-”
her voice was high when we broke apart.
“cum for me, lee.”
she let out a high-pitched sigh just as she came, clenching hard around my fingers.
“so good for me.”
i pulled my fingers out slowly, licking her arousal off of them with a grin. leah was blushing at my actions, something that gave me immense joy.
i slipped off the bed, walking around to the bedside table. i pulled down my underwear, now naked, and secured the harness on my hips. i turned back to face leah, and watched as her face grew shocked. i was wearing a brand new strap, a bit longer and girthier than the others we had.
“where did that come from?”
“i bought it. wanted to use it on you.”
my voice was quiet at the last sentence, a guilty pleasure of mine, you could say.
i walked back over to leah, getting back onto the bed but pushing her onto her back.
“your okay with doing this?”
i checked before we went further, i knew she’d be okay but felt the need to check.
“please, yn.”
her words made me grin. i did as she wanted, pushing the tip of the strap against her entrance, and watching as her face contorted into a million different emotions.
i slowly pushed in further, watching for any signs of discomfort. i bottomed out, the hilt of the strap pressed up against leah’s pussy.
“i’m okay, you can move, love.”
“let me know if you need to stop please, lee.”
she nodded and squeezed her eyes shut in what looked like pleasure as i started thrusting into her. my pace was slow at first but i picked it up as i felt her hole loosen.
i had one hand resting on her hip as my other hand went down to her clit, rubbing little circles on the nub. watching leah take me like this was the best thing i’d seen ever, it had me all worked up without her even touching me.
soon i was pounding into her, wet slapping noises emanating from my pace.
“yn, i’m close, please let me cum.”
“cum for me, lee. be a good girl and cum for me.”
my words must’ve been the thing that pushed her over, she let out a loud moan and gripped the sheets tightly as her pussy spasmed around my strap.
i slowed my thrusts down and slowly pulled out, unclipping the harness and discarding it on the bedside table.
“well done, lee. so good for me.”
she let out a content sigh, opening her eyes and looking up at me.
“i really need to make you jealous more often because that was amazing.”
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