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#TAMP & PULL
thresholdbb · 11 months
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Voyager Year 2 from Janeway’s perspective:
Meet Amelia Earhart without losing any crew
Almost lose Chakotay to Nog but save him
Almost lose the Doctor to Broccoli but save him
Help your manic pixie dream ocampa through puberty cause Voyager’s too sexy
Almost lose Harry Kim to a time stream but he saves himself with Tom
Lose your mind by touching a special distortion ring, everyone’s saved by doing nothing
Send two bickering crew men to a planet to adopt a lizard baby
Get so stressed out you get sent to the Holodeck for some “me time” only to think you’ve lost your whole dang mind
Almost lose Chakotay again, this time with racist vibes
Almost lose everyone to the second Caretaker
Chakotay runs off after Seska and the Kazon, have to save him
Get adopted by a delusional father only for him to die in your arms
Almost lose B’Elanna to a robot race
Try to make friends only for it to blow up in your face
Become a mutant and have 3 salamander babies with your helm officer only for Chakotay and Tuvok to abandon them
A crewman gets murdered, then you almost lose Tuvok to mind melding with the murderer
Order everyone to escape pods cause your chief engineer hijacked a sentient bomb
Put Q on trial only for him to off himself
Your EMH develops more feelings, your helmsman is acting up
Neelix stumbles on your plot with Tuvok and Paris, Chakotay gets jealous
Your ship gets duplicated and you face off with yourself about who gets to blow their Voyager up first
Almost lose Tuvok to some old kids
Almost lose Harry until you literally vanquish fear
Almost lose Tuvok and Neelix to Tuvix and a terrible moral quandary but ultimately — kill Tuvix
Get stranded on planet with Chakotay because you both got bitten with an unresolved sexual tension virus, but the crew disobeys orders and saves you anyway
Try to save Chakotay’s baby only to lose the ship and get the whole crew stranded on a planet
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a really underrated revision technique I've been thinking a lot about is pointed, but minimal specificity. I think it's easy to take a look at all your nouns/verbs and really amplify them, and sometimes that can work well. but sometimes, just tweaking one noun and tweaking one verb can create magical results. it's almost like those details get to breathe. I'm all about prose maximalism, but there's something about that minimalistic specificity that can be just as impactful
ETA: the word I'm looking to describe this is sparsity
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tojisun · 6 months
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simon grunts, his chest heaving as he palms at his chub, tracing the twitching muscle of his cock and letting out a hiss at the muted pleasure that razes through him. he shivers at the heated look you give him, your pretty eyes awash with desire, scalding as it trails down the lines of his bulk until it settles on his flesh.
“ah,” you whisper and simon nearly moans at the awe in your voice.
“s’right, baby,” he says, feeling the way he pulses underneath his low-hanging sweats. “s’all f’r you.”
there is a whine that drags itself from the base of your throat, so primal in the way it scratches your vocal cords, and simon has to fist his cock to stop himself from rutting against his palm.
“i can’t,” you whine, pouting, your eyes still trained on his groin. “‘m gonna be late for work.”
“please,” he croaks out, breathless himself. “how about jus’ the tip, love? jus’ give daddy a taste of you ‘round me, yeah?”
simon knows it is playing dirty to pull this card on you—to exploit your one weakness—but simon’s guilt is tucked underneath his stretching need, the desire bloating as it leaks past his rationality, leaving him with thinning restraints.
your sharp inhale is all the answer he needs.
he bites the inside of his cheek to tamp down the smirk dancing to the corners of his lips.
“okay,” you reply, tentative and quiet. “but just the tip, you promise?”
“swear,” simon murmurs.
like a goddamn liar.
he relishes in the squeals dripping from your parted lips, only for them to be muffled into your pillow.
he’s got you on your knees, your front all but pressed flat on the bed, your arms having lost the energy to keep yourself up as simon fucks you from the back. he’s got fistfuls of your ass, using them as sweet, sweet leverage as he manhandles your body back to his cock.
“so good f’r daddy, sweet’art,” he rumbles, his voice so deep it even sounds foreign to him. “so, so fuckin’ good, love.”
he punctuates his words with hard thrusts; drawing his cock out slowly, deliberately torturous so he can watch the way your hole grips at his cock, not wanting to let him go, before punching it back in. he doesn’t stop and keeps pushing his cock past the gummy press of your walls until his hips are pressed flush to the fat of your ass.
then, he repeats the process—sharp snaps of his hips leaving you twitching, and simon watches with a crazed giddiness as your hands uselessly scratch at the sheets as though that could tether you.
he bends forward, his bulk covering your trembling body. “such a cute darlin’ for me, lovie.” he ruts his cock along a particular sweet spot. “say ‘thank you’ to daddy?”
he hears a warbled reply from where your head is pressed to your pillow.
“hmm? wha’s ‘at?”
simon cups a hand on your forehead and carefully pulls, tipping your head up just enough that he can hear you.
he hears a hiccuped sob, then, “than’ you, daddy.”
simon giggles and presses a kiss on the back of your head. “what a good doll y’are.”
something about that makes your body tremble, spasming in his hold, and simon watches with awe as your toes curl, before he has to let go of you at the sudden tightening of your walls. his eyes go white, his ears ringing with a sharp static.
he feels so, so overwhelmed at the expanding euphoria that washes over him, lapping at the synapses from the back of his skull to the cavity of his ribs.
“you came,” simon mutters in awe, his voice passing through his teeth like a gritted hiss. “christ, lovie-”
-
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ervotica · 10 months
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please don’t go, i love you so
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pairing: young!coriolanus snow x reader
warnings: a lil toxic!coriolanus, he’s rough with r, possessive talk, quite tame in this but imma tamp it up soon, a bit of making out and being lovey
note: i do not careee about who likes this character or who doesn’t okay i am writing about him because he is literally one of the hottest men i’ve ever seen, kay? i’m not here for moral dilemmas thank u, enjoy (yes i will follow up w smut and my young!coriolanus snow reqs are OPEN!) please please remember to comment and rb, it helps me so much!
hunger games masterlist
Coriolanus is possessive.
It sickens him to his very core, sends nausea rolling like a wave through his chest; he’s not a child. Yet, the mere sight - thought - of you engaging with any other man, even innocently, is enough to have him seeing red: white-knuckled, muscles drawn taut like a bowstring, ready to eliminate any and all threat standing between him and his girl.
It's the way those boys look at you. As if you're a piece of meat, a toy to play with that they're just begging, aching to sink their teeth into, to leave a permanent mark on. The boys in this district are barbaric- that's what Coryo thinks anyway. It's disgusting, the things that he knows they think about you.
It's been a long day in District Twelve. Coriolanus' grey jumpsuit rubs and itches and his skin crawls with an uneasiness settled at the pit of his stomach. It's a warm day, his skin sticky as he peels the top half of the jumpsuit from his slender arms and ties it neatly around his waist. The grass by the lake is damp with the leftover dew from the morning.
He catches sight of you amongst the trees, weaving and bobbing through the undergrowth as you do, your lithe fingers brushing against leaves. Your head dips and then raises as his tall figure creeps into your peripheral vision. A smile graces your features, real and earnest with all your teeth.
There’s a slight waver in your countenance when you catch Coriolanus’ own expression; his brows are knit, pushing his forehead into a crease, lips pushed together tersely.
You walk straight into his arms, balancing yourself on one leg and pushing your shoulder underneath his armpit. You needle your way in, your forehead rested against his chin, so close you can feel his breath against your face.
“Hi, gorgeous,” you murmur. You reach up to push out the ridge in his brow and your thumb traces the bridge of his nose in a way that couldn’t be perceived as anything other than unbridled affection. “Something wrong?”
His slender fingers settle against your waist. You shiver at the contact when he spins and pushes you back into a tree. The bark digs into your back as you shuffle to meet his eyes— his eyes that have suddenly clouded with something dark and possessive.
“What is it?” you ask again; your voice is becoming more strained the longer he stays quiet, your own hands snaking up his arms like vines and squeezing.
He shakes his head and drops his face to look at you properly.
“Nothing. I have you.”
“Okay.” You click your tongue, tilting your head at him. His face gravitates towards yours, breath hot and mixing with your own. “You gonna kiss me or what, handsome?”
He doesn’t need any encouragement, surging forward to catch your lips between his own; his hands are rough, kneading the soft flesh of your hip. His other makes its way up to your jaw, fingertips pressing so hard you’re sure he’s branding you. You’ve never been kissed like this, with such fervour and passion and need. You gasp into his mouth and your arm wraps around his neck to pull him further into you.
“Coryo,” you pant.
“Shh,” he forces out, his fingers suddenly an iron grip around your neck; the hollow of your throat is bared to him and bobs under his cruel touch.
“Coriolanus, that hurts,” you say, strangled. His eyes are alight with a fire, a blazing inferno roaring in his head as he squeezes your throat and laughs.
You wheeze, clutching at his wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip. He obliges you, running a thumb over the indents he’s left in your soft skin to smooth them away.
“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” he asks. His head drops to the juncture of your neck, arms hooking loosely around your middle as he relaxes into you. “I just wanted to feel you. To know you’re mine.”
The incident is forgotten as soon as it ends. He has a charm in that sort of way; you don’t see his faults even when he shows them to you clear as day. You’ll never see what’s right in front of you even if he wants you to.
“Of course I’m yours, Coryo. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“The way they all look at you here…” He falters. “Like they all want you. Like they want to take you away from me. You’re mine- they have to understand that.”
“No one could take me away from you,” you giggle, your temple resting against the tip of his shoulder so you can duck your head to meet his eyes. “I know where I belong. And that’s right here with you.”
“Good.” He mouths at your neck like a man starved, arms coming right up until they’re hooked just underneath your own. He pulls away heaving for breath.
“Wanna show me just where you belong?”
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Smile, we're on the camera
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max verstappen x reader
Content warnings: unprotected sex (p-in-v), rough sex, dirty talk, language, public sex,..
my masterlist
“Here?!” you screeched. 
“Yeah.” Max shrugged, unfazed. “What’s wrong with that?” 
You choked on your own spit at his nonchalance, how carefree he was about this. “W—What do you mean what’s wrong with fucking here, Max? We’re in a damn photo booth!” 
The blank expression on his face was unchanging. “So?” 
The words on the tip of your tongue died out. Your boyfriend could be a little freaky in the bedroom sometimes and you were all for it. Never had you both risked the danger of public sex, however. 
"So?" you sputter, eyes wide in disbelief. "Don't you have any decency, any boundaries?!" Max's stoic face only serves to enrage you further. "Fine, if that's how you want to play it,"
Max slammed his arm against the opposing wall, effectively blocking your path of going out of the photo booth.
 “We’re not leaving until I’ve fucked you.” 
A shudder of arousal ran down your spine at the gruffness of his voice. “Baby,” you laughed nervously. “I know we like to experiment sometimes, but this is a little far, don’t you think?” 
The air between you was thick with tension, especially with a pair of bright blue eyes staring you down so intensely you imagined the burning embers of a fire raging behind them. 
You gulped as Max slowly licked his lips, giving you a once-over that made you feel too exposed in an already revealing sundress. There was a short distance between you, and your boyfriend’s stature was towering and beefy, taking up a large presence — his imposing nature made the hairs on your arms stand up. 
He walked you backwards slowly, step by step until you hit the far wall of the booth. Pressing his nose against the curve of your neck, he snarled. “All I know is that my cock is so fuckin’ hard for you right now and if I don’t have your pussy wrapped around it within the next thirty seconds, I’m gonna haul you over my shoulder and take you out there in front of the whole damn mall.” 
A shiver ran down your spine at his menacing words, your body instinctively pressing back against the cold metal wall of the photo booth as Max's muscular frame loomed over you. The heat of his breath on your neck, the raw intensity in his voice - it was intoxicating and terrifying all at once. You can feel the hardness of his muscular chest through the thin fabric of your dress, as his hands gently but with confident grip move up from your thighs. They slide around to cup your ass, pulling you even closer against him.
You thought you could tamp down the moan trapped in your throat, but you were sorely mistaken when it unleashed without remorse. Your chest heaved with exhilaration and your fingers twitched excitedly at the prospect of something so scandalous. 
“So what’s it gonna be, Liefje? In this photo booth with a little privacy? Or out there where everyone can watch me ruin you? Your choice.”
You had not expected this outcome when you had dragged your boyfriend over to the booth. You wanted to take cute pictures and add them to your keepsake memory box. Now you were deciding your fate; whether you would be leaving your dignity in the tiny stall or chance getting arrested for public indecency in the middle of the shopping mall. 
Max raised an eyebrow, awaiting your answer. 
“In h—here,” you whispered in anticipation. 
The cheshire cat grin you received in return spiked your nerves even further. “Bingo.” 
Without giving you a chance to backtrack on your decision, Max hoisted you up into his arms and smothered your squeal of shock with his lips. He wasted no time snaking his tongue into your mouth, fighting for dominance like always. 
“Mmph!” you moaned when he flicked his tongue against yours. A zing of electricity shot down to your pussy and you threaded your fingers through his hair, trying to grab a hold of it tightly. 
“Maxie, I swear to God, if you ever cut your hair short again I will leave you then and there.”
Max chuckles against your lips, the vibration sending a shiver down your body. "I wouldn't dream of it, love," he murmurs, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down your jaw and neck, all the while keeping you lifted in his arms.
Even after so many years, the spark between you and Max was still alive. Throughout the trysts of your sexual experiences together, the attraction to each other had only intensified. He was sexier now than ever before. And even if he came up with outlandish ideas that made you step out of your comfort zone, you held so much trust in him that it was easy to follow him to the depths of sin. 
He continues to pepper kisses along your collarbone, his warm breath sending goosebumps down your arms as he makes his way to the sensitive spot just above your breasts. Your nipples ache in response, and you arch your back, pressing your chest against his.
“Hold on,” he warned before handling your weight over to one arm. With the other, he unzipped the fly of his trousers and shuffled them down just past his ass until his cock bounced out. 
You gasped at the sight. Max really was hard for you already, if the angry-looking vein straining from his thick length was anything to go by. He was throbbing, you could see his dick viciously twitching with need and your thighs clenched around his waist with hunger. 
The sight of Max, so clearly overwhelmed with desire for you, was indeed a powerful aphrodisiac. The way his throbbing member twitched with need only served to fuel your own desire, your thighs clenching around him in response.
Max's hand finally made contact with your skin, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. His fingers traced a path up your side, causing you to shiver with anticipation. "You're enjoying this, aren't you, Liefde?"
You tightened your lips to try and hide your smile and shrugged innocently. “Can’t say I mind it so much.” 
His hand reached your breast, cupping it possessively as he squeezed the soft flesh through the fabric of your clothes. "You're so responsive to me," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "I can feel how hard your nipples are, even through the thin fabric of your top.
The amusement was quick to wipe from your face when he reached down and ripped the panties covering your mound. “Max!” you scolded. “Those were new!” 
Your heart raced as Max's fingers hooked into the waistband of your new, now destroyed lingerie, effortlessly peeling the delicate fabric away from your heated skin. The cool air of the small photo booth  caressed your exposed lower half, a stark contrast to the burning desire that seemed to radiate from the man holding you.
He rolled his eyes playfully, trying not to laugh at the way the shredded material now hung from your ankle. “Oh, hush. I’ll buy you some more.” 
You huffed. “What? So you can rip them off me again?” 
Max chucked under your chin condescendingly. “Look at you, learning so fast.”
Smug bastard, you cursed internally. 
“Gonna stop complaining and let me fuck you now, mijn kleine meid.?” 
You scowled and poked his chest with your finger. “You better watch the way you speak to me— OH!” The retort on your tongue cut off as Max sheathed the entirety of his length inside of your pussy in one smooth thrust. Your nails dug harshly into the firm muscle of his shoulders and you buried your head into his neck. “H—Holy shit.”
The sudden surge of pleasure that coursed through you at Max's forceful thrust stole your breath away. Your back arched instinctively, pushing yourself harder onto him. The roughness of his actions, the sound of his breath hitching, it was all too intoxicating.
Max's hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, pulling you closer, his fingers leaving imprints on your skin. His thrusts became more urgent, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you with each movement. The feeling of him inside you, filling you completely, was almost overwhelming.
Your moans grew louder, more desperate, as Max's pace quickened. Sweat dripped from his forehead, onto your skin, as he lost himself in the sensations. The air was thick with tension, heavy with anticipation, as you both hurtled towards the edge of a shattering climax. "Max...
The nails of his fingers dug crescent shapes into your bare thighs, but the sting of pain was nothing compared to the slow drag of his cock leaving your cunt. You whimpered as his thick girth left you inch by inch until only the tip sat inside of you. 
“Gonna beg me for it, baby?” he asked. 
"Please," you whimpered, not even realizing the word had escaped your lips. Max's grin was wolfish as he began to ease out completely, just the head of his cock nestled against your entrance. He rocked back and forth, teasing you with the promise of returning to your warmth.
“My baby is so polite. Come on, tell me, Liefde, what do you need and I’ll gladly give it to you.”
"Please, Max," you managed to gasp, the desperation clear in your voice. The denial was torture, the touch and then the swift removal driving you crazy with need. "Please, fuck me, fill me up again."
He shrugged. “Good enough.” 
A high pitched keen was forced out of you when Max thrusted his hips up, his dick sat deep inside of your pussy. “Fuck!”  
You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, needing him to touch every part of you. Max obliged, grinding against you with a primal intensity, his hips slapping against your thighs. "Take it, baby," he growled, his voice raw with lust. "Take every inch of my cock."
Your boyfriend’s eyes shone with pride. “That’s my girl.”
Max fucked like it was the first time every time. His movements were careful and his hands were greedy; always touching you, always gathering you as close as possible to him. And while he was soft with his caresses, his desire to roughly pound his cock into your cunt, as deep as it humanely could, was another story. 
“God, you’re like a fuckin’ vice around my dick,” he choked out. “Would’ve thought you’d have loosened up by now, baby. But I can still barely move.” 
Unable to speak without screaming, you sucked his neck, bruising his skin until it turned a dark purple. 
“You markin’ me, huh? Want everybody to know who I belong to?” 
You nodded your head while whimpering, the nails of your fingers scratching against Max’s scalp. 
Max's eyes rolled back, his pupils constricting as he groaned, his fingers digging into your hips. The sound of his ragged breathing and the wet slapping of his cock against your pussy filled the air. The motion of his thrusts made his balls slap against your ass — he loved it when you got possessive. “Filthy fuckin’ girl. Don’t worry, Liefde. I’m all yours.”
Letting go of his neck with a pop, you loudly whined out, “So good— cock feels so good in me, baby. Fucking me just right.”
“Oh, I know. But you gotta turn down the volume, Liefje,” he chuckled. “Save it for the bedroom, alright?” 
You tried, you really did. But the way the head of his cock repeatedly stroked against the sensitive spongy spot of your pussy made your inhibitions blurry and you couldn’t help moaning like a whore.
Max tutted and shook his head in mock disapproval. “Guess I have to do everything for you, hm?” His lips curled up in perverse satisfaction as he shoved three of his fingers into your mouth. 
You hummed around them instantly while staring into his eyes. He made you this way; a willing body for him to toy with, a woman who was quick to fall under his command and you lived for it. You gargled around his large fingers as you jolted each time he drove his cock into you, drool dripping down from your chin and landing on your boyfriend’s lower stomach and dick. 
“Can’t even let my fingers keep you quiet, huh? Just have to make sure everyone knows how good it feels to be fucked by me.” 
You sucked on his fingers, your eyes half-lidded with desire as he began to take control. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and trailed them down your body, tracing a path from your lips to your breasts, down your stomach, and finally to the apex of your thighs.
His fingers danced around your clit, teasing you mercilessly before he slowly slid them back inside you, plunging deep to stroke that sweet spot once more. You whimpered, your body trembling with pleasure as he bit gently on your earlobe. "You're going to come for me, baby?"
His strength only turned you on more and even with the intrusion of his fingers, your noises grew louder, more unabashed. 
“Shit, you sound so pretty.” His eyes darted towards the swinging panties still attached to your ankle and he quickly removed his fingers to grab them. “Such a good girl for me, baby. But I think we need somethin’ a little more efficient to quiet my eager girl down.” 
Before you had the chance to whimper again, Max shoved your underwear into your mouth. To both of your luck, your moans became muffled enough to not draw attention. “Perfect.”
Though the volume of your sounds had been solved, the slick noises coming from your dripping cunt became the center of attention. Max groaned, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple as he fought the urge to thrust deeper. "Fuck, babe, you're so tight... so goddamn wet." He grunted, trying to maintain control.
“Mhm!” you mumbled over your makeshift gag. Your worries of being caught had long disappeared, your main focus now to revel in the building tension from your lower stomach creeping to the surface. 
The two of you were only concealed by a pathetic thin curtain that didn’t even close all the way. It left a large gap, one that should a member of the public managed to notice, would reveal Max’s bare ass and your scrunched up face, moaning in pleasure at the feel of his cock. 
Again, you were so far out of your realm to notice. Though Max did as he glanced over his shoulder and the high he got from the danger was addictive. 
Wrapping an arm around you tightly, Max discreetly reached into his jean pocket with his free hand while keeping up his momentum. He was so close to the edge, balancing on the precipice of cumming, but he strived to hold on just a little longer. 
Grabbing the loose change, he discreetly dispensed it into the money slot of the machine. “You think you’re gonna cum for me, baby?” he asked, short-windedly while his thighs trembled. 
You whined desperately around your panties, your eyes glossy from the overwhelming thread that was beginning to unravel. 
“Alright. I’m gonna count down from three and you’re gonna give it to me, yeah? Can you do that for me?” 
Thumping your head back against the wall, you closed your eyes and nodded hastily. 
“Good. Ready, Liefde?” he asked. 
Your nails scratched the back of his neck in approval and he began. 
“Three.” He pistoned his hips, fucking you with all the energy he had left in him. 
“Two.” The deep dirty grind of cock into your cunt was torturing and your thighs shook as you fought to hold out. 
“One.” On his final count, Max pinched your clit, hard. Your eyes shot wide open at the same time multiple bright flashes blanketed the photo booth and your mouth dropped on a muted scream. 
“Holy— F—Fuck!” Your boyfriend’s shout echoed across the white walls while his fist slammed next to your head. A huge load of his cum shot up into your cunt, overflowing the already full hole. 
Your mind swam in ecstasy from the adrenaline-filled haze of your orgasm. The pure rush of your sparking nerves was a familiar thing with Max and yet the sensation was so deeply gratifying every single time. 
You sucked in lungfuls of air on your comedown, letting your mouth hang open while your ruined panties dropped with a wet slap onto the floor. Shivers wracked through your body and before you could even notice the coldness, Max enveloped his warm body around you while he stroked your cheek.��
“That’s it,” he cooed soothingly while he recovered from his own intense orgasm. “Take it easy, baby.” 
You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer to you until there was no space between you. “That was fun,” you slurred lazily.
Max’s tired laugh rumbled through you. “Damn fuckin’ right it was.” Lifting his head out of your neck, he kissed you delicately. “You alright?” 
“I’m great,” you told him truthfully. “Though you may have to help me walk because I can’t feel my legs anymore.” 
He grinned, satisfied. “I’m that good, huh?” 
You lightly smacked his chest, even if you couldn’t contain your own cheesy smile. “Nope. I’m not inflating your ego more than it already is.” Turning your head to the screen of the booth, your eyes widened at what you saw. “No, you did not.” 
“Oh, but I did,” Max said proudly. “A little souvenir of our sexual awakening.” 
“Oh my god.” The shock of it rendered you speechless. 
“I know, right? Now you have the photos you wanted.” 
You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. Looking back at your boyfriend, you shook your head. “I wish I could tell you off.” 
“You can tell me I’m a bad boy later,” he suggested with a wink. “For now let's get outta here.” 
Once he gently placed you down, making sure you were steady on your feet, the two of you sorted yourselves; tidying the mess of your sex hair and straightening the wrinkles out of your clothes. Max made sure to pocket your panties from the floor, leaving no evidence of your fun. 
“Come on, you.” He lightly slapped your ass before ripping the curtain open. “We’ve still got some shopping to do.” He stepped out, whistling to himself like he hadn’t just fucked you senseless and held his hand out for you to take. 
“You want to go shopping while your cum is literally leaking down my legs as we speak?” you hissed as heat crept up your neck from the thought. 
Max leaned his shoulder against the booth and smirked. “Well, we do have to buy you some new underwear. Remember, doll?” 
You so desperately wanted to smack the self-satisfied grin off his face. 
With a huff, you exited the photo booth, begrudgingly sliding your hand into Max’s. Before you left to continue your shopping, however, he plucked the Polaroids from the outside dispenser.
Your boyfriend admired the photos, each one a debauched image of you with heavy, hooded eyes with your mouth hung open on a scream. 
“You look good on camera, baby.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “We should make a film next.” 
Trying to clench your thighs together to keep his cum from dripping down your leg, you swatted his arm. “Pfft—you wish.” 
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omi-boshi · 6 months
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"Hey, Kiyoomi-kun!" Shion yells from the open door leading to the locker rooms, voice a little breathless. "Your phone rang." Kiyoomi quirks an eyebrow in curiosity. There's still 15 minutes left of their break and truthfully, Kiyoomi is not inclined to leave the comfortable position he's resting in: sat on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him as he caught his breath. Still, he rises to his feet and ambles towards the locker room. Kiyoomi typically has his phone on Do Not Disturb. If anyone's messaging him at this time, it could only be one person: you. He thumbs his phone open; the screen flashes with a photo of you and him from your most recent anniversary, before he clicks on the message that, just as he guessed, came from you.
It's a video.
For a moment, he considers saving it for later just in case it ends up being racier than what's acceptable to play in public but the motion blur from the thumbnail suggests anything but that. Besides, it's barely past 5PM, you're only on the way home at this time.
Ultimately, curiosity gets the better of him and he plays the video without further ado.
"Hey, babe!" Your voice crackles through the speaker. In the video, you're running. The backdrop is the familiar landscape of the neighborhood you both reside in.
"This is proof that I would never try to bring home a stray dog." You look off to the side, the camera tilting with the motion and showing the dog that's running alongside you. "See, Kiyoomi!" You look towards your phone. Despite doing your utmost at feigning disappointment and concern at being followed, your giddiness bleeds through your voice and it's enough to pull a smile out of Kiyoomi.
"See! I'm running! I'm running away from you!" Your voice lowers in volume as you direct your words to the dog. It's immediately followed by, "Come on, buddy! Come on— Go away!" You say the last part to the camera. Eyes wide, as if you were looking directly at Kiyoomi and convincing him in person.
Kiyoomi falters at the way you try your damndest to tamp down your grin, the faux disappointment coming back as you address him through the video. His grin widens.
"What are you doing? Go away!" You turn to the dog. "I said run— run away—come on, come on—Run, buddy—Run away!"
As you grow increasingly breathless, Kiyoomi's amusement crests, sending him into fits of laughter that catch the attention of everyone within the vicinity. His laughter continues as he watches you run with this dog, at one point, even waving it over when it strays too far.
By the time the video abruptly cuts off, the fatigue Kiyoomi felt from practice is replaced by this warmth in his chest brought about by your valiant attempt at not leading a stray dog into your home. When his laughter subsides, Shoyo bounds over towards him, curious at what has the reclusive spiker so amused. "You seem happy, Omi-san. Something good happen?" Kiyoomi spares him a glance, laughter dying down, and a soft quirk to his lips that Shoyo has learned can only be pulled out of him by you. "Yeah... I think we're getting a dog."
(based on this silly little video)
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sugugasm · 2 months
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. ༉‧₊ 𝐀 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄
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✧ synopsis : after almost a decade of a healthy marriage, four kids, and a stressful bakery opening, you and toji have learned to take your alone time very seriously.
✧ tags : firefighter! toji + baker! reader, reader uses she/her pronouns, blk fem reader ofc, mentions of alcohol, public sex ?? in the car, mentions of vaginal penetration, cowgirl, pet names like bby, love, pretty, mama bc yall already know etc, excuse any errors. i wrote this in a few different povs at first so — 𝟓.𝟖𝐊 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭
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𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 smiles as he pulls into his driveway, the familiar cacophony of squeals and thuds greeting him before he’d even opened the door - the kiddos must’ve been riding the after dinner sugar high. cheerfully shaking his head, he braced himself for the chaos and noise that awaited inside your now shared, cozy little place the two of you have grown to call home.
it’d been nearly six years since that fateful summer when you’d quite literally swept into his life like a swirl of sunshine and baked goods. six years of dizzying ups and downs, laughter and tears, the most intense love he’d ever known to face. sometimes it still didn’t feel real, even now - this life you’d built from the spark of simple flirting over sweets n’ crème brulee.
so much had happened in that span of adventures : you, graduating at the top of your culinary class, your desserts and pastries that you’d stressed so hard about being the toast of the competition circuit. toji retiring as lieutenant of the fire department after over a decade of service, not daring to miss out on any more milestones as the two of you started your family. not to mention the whirlwind of wedding plans, and then the magical day itself where you vowed forever to each other in front of family and friends.
then the true blessings had come along, one right after the other - megumi, who was still adjusting to the new family dynamic of it all, but was yet so proud of his father. little rascally rose, a firecracker just like her mama with the same bright eyes and full curls. goofy, tender-hearted kenji who practically worshipped his big brother and sister, wanting nothing more than to mimic their every move and be just like his papa. and finally malachai, the happy surprise baby who seemed to have inherited the best of both his parents’ feisty personalities.
toji wouldn’t trade this beautiful chaos for anything in the world. but he’d be lying if he said the constant juggling act of family life wasn’t difficult - for the both of you. it was rare for you guys to get a real moment alone together, just the two of you. your intimacy had cooled down amidst all the lovely distractions, as had the simple art of conversation beyond trading information about grocery lists and pediatrician appointments.
date nights had become a long forgotten luxury, almost seemingly impossible to coordinate when your trusted babysitters were your siblings with families of their own. but tonight, uncle satoru had stepped up and volunteered his services, giving toji and you a well overdue opportunity to reconnect.
toji unbuckles his seatbelt and exited the truck, tamping down a flutter of nerves. what if the easy rhythm and sizzling chemistry you’d once shared was gone for good? a victim of sleep deprivation and chicken nugget overdoses? what if it was too late to rekindle that spark?
pushing open the front door, he was immediately swamped by a tiny army of squirming, chattering bodies. “papa, papa, papa!” rose seized his hand and tugged insistently. “you gotta’ see the cool fort we built! kenji made it super big this time!”
“we’ll show ya, dad!” kenji crowed, already streaking towards the living room, malachai hot on his heels with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“hold up there, you lil’ tornados,” toji called in vain, being unceremoniously dragged by his giggling daughter into the chaos. every available pillow, cushion, and blanket had been appropriated to create an elaborate tent city surrounded by toys and stuffed animals . . and gojo sat smack in the middle of it all, long legs splayed out as he played some kind of intricate make believe game with the two boys.
“baby, you’re home!” you swept in from the kitchen, wisps of hair escaping your messy bun and face flushed from exertion. you were wearing a cute pink sundress that struck a nostalgic chord in toji’s memory - you’ve had it for years, one of his favorite things to slowly peel off of your shoulders after a night out to be exact. “thank goodness. i was startin’ to think i’d have to call backup.”
you stand on your tippy toes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, and just like that, his weariness evaporated as if by magic. your familiar floral scent, your soft warmth, the kids’ laughter surrounding him - this moment of serenipity in the midst of routinely chaos bringing a lump to his throat.
“not a chance,” he rumbled, sliding an arm around your waist. “i wouldn’t miss this for the world.” downy goosebumps erupted down your arms at his words, flustering deeply. awe, his voice still got you going after all this time. good to know. very good to know. “y’all holdin’ down the fort?”
“y’know how it is,” you reply with a gentle squeeze of his hand, watching in fond exasperation as rose ordered poor gojo to lie down so kenji could perform his ‘very important surgery.’ “satoru took his role a lil’ too seriously this time and got lost in their games.”
you stood together watching for a few moments, the kids pausing just long enough to acknowledge toji’s presence again before diving back into their shenanigans. it was all so beautifully vibrant and alive, the little people you created and who brought such joy, such richness and meaning to your lives. but still . . . toji felt the undeniable tug of wanting you all to himself. just for a few hours at least. he wanted to bask in your undivided attention. to remember what it felt like to not share you with anyone else.
you must have picked up on his restlessness, your eyelids drifting shut as he stroked the sensitive skin of your inner wrist. “soon as we get back, m’ cravin’ some peace n’ quiet. maybe a hot soak in the tub after all this madness.” your tone was light and casual, but the smoldering undertone was unmistakable.
toji found himself swallowing reflexively as his skin prickled with awakening interest. “is that a promise, mama?” he murmured gruffly, not even trying to hide the roughness in his voice.
you peeked up at him through long lashes, a smile curving on your lips. “mm . . . you should know this by now. m’ a girl who keeps her promises.” burying any further suggestive replies, you cleared your throat and turned to gojo, who’d been buried under a pile of stuffed teddy bears. “alright babies, mama n’ daddy gotta’ go for a bit. gumi’s at a friend’s place, and there’s dinner in the fridge if you guys get hungry — so pretty please be good for your uncle gojo, y’hear?”
a chorus of whines follow after your words, but the kids were quickly distracted again by the siren song of more roughhousing. rose blew toji an exaggerated kiss while kenji and malachai paid both of you absolutely no mind whatsoever, already wrestling in a tangle of small limbs. gojo simply shot you a weary thumbs up from beneath his plush prison, glasses askew and hair wild as toji fought the urge to chuckle, “have fun you two. keep me posted, and please for the love of god - quit knockin’ her up, toji. i’m being attacked by three little rascals and it’s just absolutely absurd,” he jokes.
“i don’t make promises i can’t keep, satoru.”
you fished your purse and sweater from the hall closet while toji hovered close, drinking in every detail of you. suddenly he was struck by the profound urge to pull you in close and just breathe nothing but you, to lose himself in the familiar softness and strength of your embrace. but he restrained himself with an effort. all too soon they’d be able to indulge that craving for closeness, he reminded himself as you linked your fingers through his.
with a final wave to the kids and fond shake of his head at gojo’s predicament, toji guided you to the car. the simple act of opening your door and helping you in was enough to set his pulse racing, anticipation crackling in the air as your fingers tangled briefly together. electric from even the most innocent of contact.
by the time he’d slid behind the wheel, he felt ten years younger, energized by the promise of this evening alone with the woman he loved. as toji pulled out of the driveway, you were already reaching for the radio to cue up one of your old playlists, humming along contentedly as warm twilight spilled through the windows. toji cuts you an affectionate glance and reaches over to squeeze your knee - a brief, cherished moment before the magic began.
he couldn’t wait to see where it all would lead.
“so where we headed, hot stuff?” you asked, eyes sparkling with mischief as she toyed with the ends of her hair. “hopefully somewhere without a soft play area and a kids meal if y’know what i mean.”
toji snorted, distracted for a second by the way the skirt of her sundress rode up her thighs as she shifted in the passenger seat. “nah, no funzones tonight. but i can think of a few things i’d like to play with though.”
his suggestive drawl was rewarded with a scandalized laugh and playful swat to his shoulder. “you’re so gross, babe.” your eyes twinkle with amusement before flickering to the darkening sky outside. “seriously though . . . surprise me? i wanna’ be wooed. s’ been too long since you’ve had the chance to take me out. we used to do it all the time.”
kissing away the pout on your lips and squeezing your knee again, toji grinned crookedly. “i know, baby. tonight will be one to remember - i swear.”
true to his word, he bypassed all the usual dining spots they frequented as a family, instead guiding you to a cozy trattoria tucked away on a quiet cobblestone street you didn’t even know existed. he pulled up in front and turned to gauge your reaction, smile widening at the look of surprise and delight on your lovely face.
“bambolino’s?” you exclaimed, craning your neck to peer through the warmly lit windows. “toji, this place is famous! i swear geto raves about their stuffed shells every time he comes over . . like they’re life changing or something!”
“nothin’s better than your cookin’ so we’ll see. m’ a tough crowd to please.” chuckling, he cut the engine and climbed out to open your door, and you hopped out with a charming little shimmy of your hips, curls bouncing around your shoulders now. toji quite literally had to bite back a groan as images of sweeping you up onto the hood and hiking that dress up around your waist flooded his mind unbidden.
jesus, dude. maybe he felt a little too hot n’ bothered. this was a night to reconnect emotionally, not just physically. ‘keep it together, man,’ he mumbles to himself.
threading your arm through his, you allowed him to lead you to the heavy oak door. “well well, aren’t you just the sweetest.”
toji leaned over to murmur in her ear, voice low and intimate. “like i said . . . a night to remember. and m’ just gettin’ started, lovely.” he felt you shiver and had to quickly resist the urge to press an open mouthed kiss to the sensitive spot behind you ear — the spot he knew drove you crazy. but he reined himself in, offering you his arm instead. you slanted him an arch look from beneath your lashes as you took his elbow, well aware of the charged energy in the room. “you’re such smooth talker,” you teased. “but m’ callin’ you out - you gotta’ keep deliverin’ now.”
the inside of the restaurant was every bit as quaint and charming as the exterior, all warm golden lighting and rustic decor like something plucked from a cozy little italian village. your table of choice nestled in a babylon themed area, made for discreet intimacy. along with linen napkins and sparkling wine already waiting along with a single garden rose in a low vase.
as toji held out your chair for you, you leaned up to brush a soft kiss to his cheek. “this lovely, t,” you murmured, fingers trailing over the pristine white tablecloth. “really, baby . . . jus’ lovely.”
he hummed, momentarily distracted by the alluring fragrance of your signature perfume mixed with the lingering scent of baked goodies in your hair from a hectic day’s work at the bakery. “you deserve it,” he rumbled once he’d found his voice again. “. . . i know how crazy swamped you been with the kids and workin’ on side projects for the shop. tonight is strictly about you, mama. no responsibilities, no worries. just you n’ me enjoyin’ each other. like we used to do.”
your smile softened at the corners as you regarded him with open adoration. “when did all your charm come back?” you teased gently, though . . that tone was genuine. “feels like we haven’t had a moment alone in ages. hard to remember the last time you wooed me like this.”
“tonight’s special. couldn’t let another moment go by without remindin’ you exactly why you chose to put up with me.”
your expression turned impish once more. “coulda’ fooled me - i seem to recall it was you who was pushin’ lil’ ol’ me away, no?”
he formed his features into his best look of faux offense, tone full of lofty dignity. “can a man not get nervous anymore? you were stunning i was terrified — as megumi would say, your aura was just . . .” beneath the table, you could start to feel him sliding his foot forward to glide his ankle over yours, naughtiness giving him away even before your muffled squeak of surprise. toji just grinned that stupid grin at you innocently, as though not at all aware of the toe he was trailing up the delicate skin of your inner calf, “out of this world, sweetheart.”
you had to clear your throat before replying, voice husky with a mixture of amusement and something darker. “oh shut up. jus’ admit you loved me before you even knew it yet.” but despite the humor, you lashes had lowered invitingly as you let your calves part further, granting him unrestricted access.
his gaze snagged on the glimpse of your skin revealed as his foot inched higher and higher to skim the sensitive crease behind your knee. already, his blood was pounding with renewed interest, awakened by the heady combination of your pheromones and just being within your space. hmph. it was like suddenly the intimate, flickering candles and red wine he'd scoffed at earlier as a cheesy cliche seemed perfectly fitting, matching the frisson of sexual heat enkindling within him.
you spent the first part of dinner treading familiar ground - teasing n’ flirting, punctuated by conversations and easy silences that felt almost novel in your peacefulness these days. there was an ease to it, a bond between you both that couldn’t be so easily broken by the stress of soccer practices, ballet recitals or piles of laundry.
an intimacy beyond the aspects of physical that toji clung to . . . even as his vixen urges stirred elsewhere.
once appetizers had been polished off and the main courses brought out, toji leaned back in his chair and leveled you with a heavy lidded stare. slowly, he scooped up his cloth napkin and tossed it onto the table as though throwing down a gauntlet. your eyebrows rose in polite question even as a smirk tugged at the corners of your lips.
“y’know . .” toji began, voice pitched low and rough like buttered rum. “you look absolutely stunning tonight, yn. i couldn’t be more proud of the woman you are n’ i jus’ uh . .” he pauses for a moment. wow, even after six years you still found a way to steal the words right out of his mouth, “i jus’ love you — you’re the mother of my children, my heart, my everyth - ”
your breath caught audibly, lashes fluttering as you struggled not to squirm under the potent weight of his stare. still, you rallied with a sassy arch of one brow. “if we weren’t already married, i’d say you were attempting at proposing to me right now, toji.”
“aye, m’ tryin’ t’be sentimental here, lady,” toji chuckled, the sound impossibly intimate amidst the hushed ambiance of the cozy trattoria. reaching across the table, he traced a feather-light path along your forearm with the very tips of his fingers, feeling the fine hairs there rise in gooseflesh, “y’know i’d marry you a thousand times over.”
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the sleek black car purred through the dim streets, a monotonous swish of the windshield wipers being the only sound breaking the heavy silence within. in the passenger seat, you gazed out the rain streaked window, city lights smearing across your face in streaks of red and gold and neon blue. the night had been magical - champagne and oysters at bambolino’s, after that there was slow dancing cheek to cheek to smoky jazz at the club down the street, and last but not least — chocolate lava cake shared and savored at the tiny candle lit dessert boutique. all the romance and luxury toji knew his beautiful wife deserved.
but now, cocooned together in the warm confines of the car, the mood had shifted into something . . . more carnal. not sure how it couldn’t have become carnal with toji’s eyes constantly flicking away from the road to steal glimpses of you. in the dim glow of the dash, he drank in the way your clingy pink dress embraced every mouthwatering curve you had, the deep v neckline offering a tantalizing view of your collarbones. and oh, the silky chestnut curls tumbled over your bare shoulders, toji’s fingers itched to suken into them, to pull her close and breathe in the familiar sweet vanilla of her shampoo as he cruised.
he inhaled subtly, your delicate floral perfume underlaid with the warm, sleep-rumpled scent of your skin filling his head with sense memories. lazy sunlit mornings tangled in egyptian cotton sheets, your hair spilled across the pillow. sweaty afternoons grappling on the living room rug like lovestruck college kids. languid twilight baths with your slippery curves pressed back against his chest. he shifted in his seat as his blood began to simmer.
as if she could read his increasingly lurid thoughts, yn turned to meet his gaze. in the shadows, her eyes glittered like black diamonds, dark and fathomless, brimming with wicked promises. slowly, deliberately, she dragged her pink tongue across her bottom lip, leaving the glossed flesh glistening temptingly. toji swallowed hard.
suddenly, the air of the car felt suffocating, the rain misted air unbearably thick and hot. toji cranked the ac, but it did little to cool his overheated skin. he stared deadahead at the surging blades, trying to ignore the rising pressure in his groin.
without a word, you lifted a hand from your lap and slid it across the center console. toji sucked in a sharp breath as your palm skated up his thigh to rest just south of dangerous territory. even through the crisp fabric of his tailored slacks, her touch burned like a brand. as your nimble fingers began to trace idle whorls and spirals, you notice toji’s hands flex around the steering wheel.
“you better get us home safe, mr. we have kids to feed,” you purred, your dulcet voice flooding the charged air between them. “wouldn’t wanna’ have an accident now, would we?” your tone was pure filthy innuendo.
toji risked a glance sideways and instantly regretted it. you looked like a temptation, the old school femme fatale, all dangerous curves and scarlet lips and come-hither eyes. he could practically hear the harps and horns of the kill bill sirens blaring in his brain as he dragged his gaze forward again, locking it on the taillights winking mockingly through the rain smeared glass.
it would be so easy to pull the car over, to say fuck it to propriety and yank you into his lap. to ruck that sinful dress up around your waist and lose himself in your pussy until the windows were disgustingly fogged. so easy to let the inferno building in his veins consume you both right there in the goddamn car.
but toji prided himself on his discipline, his ironclad restraint. you couldn’t be a firefighter without grit, without the ability to stay focused and clear headed no matter what temptations beckoned. he knew that all too well. so he kept his ass planted firmly in the leather seat, even as his body screamed for more of his wife’s wicked touch.
even if his cock throbbed persistently against his fly, inflamed and aching.
you, however, seemed to have no such compunctions about maintaining composure. heedless of toji’s grip on the wheel, you unbuckled your seatbelt and twisted in your seat to face him. in a move that nearly short circuited his brain, you drew one endless leg up onto the seat, making the hem of your dress ride up to reveal the lacy edge of a sheer white thigh high.
toji’s mouth went dust dry. “what’re you doin’?”
“gettin’ comfortable,” you replied airly, but the devilish quirk of your painted lips gave away the game. slowly, you trailed a fingertip along the inside of your thigh, the back of your hand just barely grazing the tent in toji’s slacks as you did so — making him hiss out a breath between his teeth.
“quit playin’ wit’ me, yeah?”
you hummed, unconcerned, and continued her leisurely exploration, tracing idle patterns on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. “i’d rather you play with somethin’ else — i mean, you said it yourself.”
toji’s foot pressed down on the accelerator as if by it’s own volition, the car surging forward through the fuzzy soft darkness. toji's heart beat in time, a primal drum urging him to get the fuck home, where he could strip his vixen of a wife bare and remind you where teasin’ got you.
remind you how good he could make you burn.
your throaty chuckle broke him from his reverie. he glanced over to see you still caressing your own thighs, a wry twist to your lips. “you’re thinkin’ about fuckin’ me, aren’t you?” you mused casually, as if remarking on the weather. “how bad you wanna’ pull this car over, bend me over the hood n’ fuck me like i know you want to.”
liquid heat rolled down toji’s spine to pool in his groin, his cock jerking ravenously in the confines of his straining zipper. “goddammit,” he bit out, knuckles gone bloodless on the steering wheel.
you bit your lip on a smirk, shaky satisfaction in your exhale. “c’mon, daddy,” you coaxed, voice husky and sex-soaked. “i can feel you thinkin’ about it . . . those big hands spreading me open jus’ f’you?”
toji couldn't choke back his groan, pressure building to a rolling boil in his veins. his whole world narrowed down to the flex of his thighs, the strain of keeping the car on the road, and the siren song of your body, your scent, your dirty fuckin’ mouth.
“i’ve been so wet all night, t . .” you continued blithely, as if remarking on the weather. “since the second you walked in from work.” you reached over to smooth a proprietary hand along his thigh, thumb still skating dangerously close to his crotch. “i jus’ wanted to drop to my knees and worship you with my mouth right then n’ there.”
toji nearly swallowed his tongue, vivid images of your plush lips stretching around his cock flooding his brain. “c’mon, baby . .”
“ — but i was such a good girl,” you singsonged. “i was patient. i kept my hands to myself through dinner, even though all i could think about was how good you’d feel inside me.” your fingers creep higher to graze his zipper, “how deep i could take this big dick in my pretty little cunt.”
“don’t make me stop this car n’ —“
“pull over,” you murmured, voice molten and dark with promise. “anywhere. i don’t give a fuck - jus’ fuck me, toji. please . . s’ been too fuckin’ long.”
your words shot through him like an electric charge, heat searing down his spine to pool gravid and pulsing in his groin. “shit’,” he bit out, dizzy, nearly delirious with the force of his want. “ well, i know better than to argue with you. go ahead n’ tell me where, baby.”
“over there,” you pointed through the smeared windshield at an empty parking lot on the right, a black gulf set back from the glistening street. “that lot. pull in.” nearly shaking with the effort of holding himself in check, toji wrenched the wheel to the right, tires juddering over wet asphalt as he whipped into the vacant lot. the moment he threw the car into park, you were scrambling into his lap, sinuous as a snake, that tight dress rucking up around your hips completely now.
toji groaned gutturally as the heat of you settled over him, the damp crotch of your panties grinding right against his aching cock. you were like a furnace through the thin satin, searing him, branding him. he bucked helplessly under the pressure, too far gone for finesse.
“shit,” panted against the shell of his ear, nipping at the sensitive skin. your little hands scrabbling at his belt, desperate, graceless. “wan’ you s’bad. been drippin’ — it hurts, daddy . .”
toji made a wounded sound as you finally freed his straining erection, wrapping slim fingers around the thick root and pumping once, slowly. you let out a broken moan at the heavy heat of him pulsing in your grip, the way he jerked and kicked against the palm, already leaking from the flushed tip.
“look at you,” you purred, running a thumb through the slippery bead of precum. you brought the digit to your mouth, sucking it clean with a low hum that vibrated straight through him. “mm, so fuckin’ hard f’me.” toji’s hands flew to your hips, gripping bruisingly tight, a drowning man clutching a lifeline. the flimsy lace of your panties was no barrier - he ripped them aside, baring the slick folds of your cunt to the humid air. need pounded behind his eyes, turned his blood to quicksilver, his bones to molten steel.
“i missed you, mama,” he rasped, throat tight, voice scraped raw. “missed you so much.” his calloused hands roam your tummy, waist, and then chest — stopping when his palms grope the full plumpness of your titties, “awe baby . . they’re so heavy. have they gotten bigger?” the casual rubbing is soon interrupted when he pulls them out from their comfortable position in your sundress, your breasts flopping out in the prettiest way.
nipples hard n’ ready to just be absolutely tended to.
“i think so,” you reply, running your hands up and down his chest, “ever since i had rose . . they’ve gotten more n’ more swollen.” it was true. that girl had been your most painful birth ever — and keep in mind, this was coming from a mother of four. your back ached, you felt uncomfortable everywhere, and your tits well . . . let’s just say it felt like carrying around bags of sand attached to your sore chest.
but you’d do it again. anything for your sweet baby girl.
“do they hurt?”
“a little bit,” and on your word, toji leans forward, taking one of your exposed nipples into his mouth as he teased the other with his fingers. you could only moan as he sucked softly, almost as if he were trying to pry somethin’ out of em’, “aah — mmph! s’ sensitive, daddy . . so sensitive.”
with a needy cry, you wasted to time to pull your panties to the side and tap the tip of him against your slit, “put it in, t . . please,” you don’t even wait for his approval to notch the broad head of his cock against your opening as he worked. he didn’t mind - not one bit. if anything, he was more eager than you. you then wrap around him, gently sinking down, sheathing him in tight, and clinging on. his head cracked back against the headrest after letting go of your nipple with a pop! - fireworks exploding behind his eyes as your silky walls enveloped him, gripped him, fluttered sweetly around his aching length like you’d been waiting for his return.
“oh my god,” you whimpered, lip caught harshly between your teeth. you looked nearly pained, brow pinched, lashes fluttering as you fought to adjust to the invasion. after all, it’s been a while. “i missed you stretchin’ me out, daddy . . missed y’re dick s-so much.”
toji panted shallowly through his nose, every tendon in his body pulled bowstring tight as he fought the feral urge to surge up into you, to seize and take and claim. his fingers flexed convulsively on your hips, blunt nails biting into the plump flesh of your ass.
“i know, i know. i feel you mama. m’ so sorry, daddy’s been neglectin’ this pussy, huh? keep makin’ yourself f-feel good,” he encouraged gutturally, thumbs sweeping over the delicate skin of her inner thighs, smearing her arousal into the creases. “mm, tryin’ to take it all i see . . always so eager to make me proud, ain’t ya’?”
with a keening mewl as a reply, you began to move, rocking shallowly, finding a rhythm. your hands braced on his broad shoulders, using the leverage to grind down, to swivel your hips in maddening figure eights. pleasure sparkled up toji’s spine, gathered in his heavy balls, pulling them up tight and throbbing against his body.
“s-shit, yeah,” he hissed, head swimming, drowning in sensation. “that pussy’s fuckin’ good, yn — always so fuckin’ good. ride that dick jus’ like that.”
you made a desperate sound, head lolling on your neck, lush mouth falling open. each drag of your warm walls had his nerve endings sparking, a livewire of ecstasy. he could feel every clench, every ripple of your ass around him, could feel you growing wetter, slicker, easing the way for faster, harder thrusts.
soon enough you were bouncing feverishly in his lap, shameless, transported. your nails bit into his shoulders through his shirt as you slammed yourself down, the wet smack of sticky flesh and her breathless cries fogging the windows. each downstroke punched the breath from his lungs, until he was dizzy with it, drunk on the feel of you, the sweat and sex musk and some dark energy radiating off of you.
“c’mon,” he growled, palming your ass, spreading you open lewdly so he could watch himself disappear into your gleaming folds, over n’ over, creamy n’ noisy. “gonna’ nut on this dick, hm? gonna’ soak daddy with this greedy lil’ cunt? my greedy fuckin’ cunt — all mine, isn’t it? say that shit.”
“y-yess, s’ all yours, d-daddy,” you panted, back arching sharply as his pelvis pressed just right against your swollen clit. that and the feeling of his hardened head nuzzling against your gummy cervix was just enough to — “m’ close . . m’ so close, baby!” he could feel you starting to tighten, starting to talk and pulse around his hammering cock. with a choked off curse, he gripped the globes of your ass and slammed you down, grinding his hips in deep, filthy circles that had your voice breaking on a sob.
“cum on that dick,” he commanded, holding her steady even as she thrashed and writhed, impaled to the root on his steel-hard length. “give it to daddy — m-make a mess on me, nasty fuckin’ slut.”
he punctuated the words with one brutal thrust, and you had no choice but to cum with a ragged wail, clenching down on him so tight he lost his vision. your cunt rippled and gushed, rhythmic waves gracefully and sloppily milking his pulsing cock as ecstasy whited out behind your eyes.
“fuck, fuck, baby, i can’t — m’ bout to cum, m’ cummin’ - aw fuck!” he choked out, and then his own orgasm was crashing through him, a tidal wave of rapture searing through his veins. he spurted long and hard, painting your trembling walls with scorching ropes of cum that had you shuddering through the aftershocks.
for long moments they stayed locked together, panting into the thick air, pulses gradually slowing. finally you shifted with a shuddery exhale, and toji groaned low in his chest as he slipped free of you in a hot gush. she collapsed bonelessly against his chest, sweat cooling on your skin, looking thoroughly debauched.
toji caught your face between his palms, tipped it up to meet her blissed-out gaze. “holy fuck i love you,” he rasped, thumbs sweeping over your tear stained cheeks, “so fuckin’ much, man - fuck.”
“me too . . l-love you too, babe.” you finished, voice a satisfied husk. a slow grin spread over your face, catlike and smug. “i can’t believe you fucked me in a parking lot.”
“you didn’t give me much choice,” he growled playfully, nipping at your jaw once, twice, three times. “my lil’ cum bunny jus’ couldn’t wait till’ we got home.”
you shivered, squirming against the twitch of renewed interest between his legs. “guess we better head back then,” you murmured. “round two in our nice comfy bed sounds pretty perfect right about now.”
toji made a low sound of agreement, already envisioning peeling her out of that sinful dress and worshipping every inch of her properly. “i can make a thirty minute drive a fifteen — that work for you?”
“y’know you didn’t have to ask that.” you clambered off his lap and they hastily rearranged your clothing, giggling like you were being caught by some mall cop patrolling the area. and then, toji reversed, pulled back onto the glistening streets, one hand resting possessively high on your thigh as the lights of the city streaked by.
soon you were pulling into your familiar driveway. toji killed the engine and dashed around to open your door, ever the gentleman as usual even after tiring you and himself out so thoroughly. hand in hand, giddy and eager, you made you way up the front walk, your heels clicking on the wet concrete.
the door swung open on a scene of perfect domestic tranquility. there on the oversized couch lay satoru, sprawled out and snoring softly, the little ones curled up safe and sound on his chest. the sight filling toji’s heart with indescribable warmth.
gingerly, you both crept closer, not wanting to wake your peaceful babies. toji gazed down at their somber faces, so innocent in sleep, and felt his throat tighten with emotion. you then settled against his side and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close.
“we made some damn cute kids,” you whispered with a contented sigh.
“absolutely we did,” toji agreed gruffly. he turned and pressed a kiss to your hair, soft and sweet. “i love our little family so much. and you . . i say it all the time, but god, i love you more than anything, yn. i wouldn’t have them without you.”
you tilted your face up to his, eyes liquid and luminous in the low light. “take me to bed n’ show me just how much you love me, lieutenant,” you murmured against his lips.
grinning, toji swept her into a bridal carry, careful not to jostle satoru and the kids. “roger that,” he whispered back playfully. “let’s go complete operation ‘welcome home.’”
and with that, he carried his gorgeous, giggling wife down the hall to their bedroom, ready to spend the rest of the night making good on the promise that had been building between them all evening long — a promise of passion, devotion, and a love that could set the whole world on fire.
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thevillainswhore · 6 months
Note
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You Look Good On Camera, Baby
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 2.8k
Summary: Bucky’s not letting you leave the photobooth, not until he’s had his way with you.
Warnings: Established relationship, teasing, kissing, smut, public sex, p in v, quickie, finger sucking, uses panties to keep reader quiet, creampie.
Author’s note: Unbeta’d, warning graphics by @rookthorne
Aaand all of a sudden we have another oneshot. Sigh. This one has actually been on my mind since these pictures were first released so a big thank you to Lana for finally giving me the push to make it happen 🤭 really enjoyed this one 🤍
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“Here?!” you screeched. 
“Yeah.” Bucky shrugged, unfazed. “What’s wrong with that?” 
You choked on your own spit at his nonchalance, how carefree he was about this. “W—What do you mean what’s wrong with fucking here, Bucky? We’re in a damn photobooth!” 
The blank expression on his face was unchanging. “So?” 
The words on the tip of your tongue died out. Your boyfriend could be a little freaky in the bedroom sometimes and you were all for it. Never had you both risked the danger of public sex, however. 
“You’re out of your damn mind if you think we’re doing it in public,” you scoffed before beginning to make your way out of the stall.
But you were quickly stopped in your tracks as Bucky slammed his arm against the opposing wall, effectively blocking your path. “We’re not leaving until I’ve fucked you.” 
A shudder of arousal ran down your spine at the gruffness of his voice. “Baby,” you laughed nervously. “I know we like to experiment sometimes, but this is a little far, don’t you think?” 
The air between you was thick with tension, especially with a pair of bright blue eyes staring you down so intensely you imagined the burning embers of a fire raging behind them. 
You gulped as Bucky slowly licked his lips, giving you a once over that made you feel too exposed in an already revealing sundress. There was a short distance between you, and your boyfriend’s stature was towering and beefy, taking up a large presence — his imposing nature made the hairs on your arms stand up. 
He walked you backwards slowly, step by step, until you hit the far wall of the booth. Pressing his nose against the curve of your neck, he snarled. “All I know is that my cock is so fuckin’ hard for you right now and if I don’t have your pussy wrapped around it within the next thirty seconds, I’m gonna haul you over my shoulder and take you out there in front of the whole damn mall.” 
You thought you could tamp down the moan trapped in your throat, but you were sorely mistaken when it unleashed without remorse. Your chest heaved with exhilaration and your fingers twitched excitedly at the prospect of something so scandalous. 
“So what’s it gonna be, sweetheart? In this photo booth with a little privacy? Or out there where everyone can watch me ruin you? Your choice.”
You had not expected this outcome when you had dragged your boyfriend over to the booth. You wanted to take cute pictures and add them to your keepsake memory box. Now you were deciding your fate; whether you would be leaving your dignity in the tiny stall or chance getting arrested for public indecency in the middle of the shopping mall. 
Bucky raised an eyebrow, awaiting your answer. 
“In h—here,” you whispered in anticipation. 
The cheshire cat grin you received in return spiked your nerves even further. “Clever girl.” 
Without giving you a chance to backtrack on your decision, Bucky hoisted you up into his arms and smothered your squeal of shock with his lips. He wasted no time snaking his tongue into your mouth, fighting for dominance like always. 
“Mmph!” you moaned when he flicked his tongue against yours. A zing of electricity shot down to your pussy and you threaded your fingers through his long hair, pulling it tightly. 
Even after so many years, the spark between you and Bucky was still alive. Throughout the trysts of your sexual experiences together, the attraction to each other had only intensified. He was sexier now than ever before. And even if he came up with outlandish ideas that made you step out of your comfort zone, you held so much trust in him that it was easy to follow him to the depths of sin. 
A string of saliva connected between your lips as Bucky pulled away for air. While he was reckless for suggesting such a depraved idea of public sex, he was smart enough to realise the two of you were short on time to make it happen. 
“Hold on,” he warned before handling your weight over to one arm. With the other, he unzipped the fly of his trousers and shuffled them down just past his ass until his cock bounced out. 
You gasped at the sight. Bucky really was hard for you already, if the angry looking vein straining from his thick length was anything to go by. He was throbbing, you could see his dick viciously twitching with need and your thighs clenched around his waist with hunger. 
Your boyfriend squeezed your hip. “You like seeing me desperate for you, huh baby?” 
You tightened your lips to try and hide your smile and shrugged innocently. “Can’t say I mind it so much.” 
Bucky growled with a smirk. “You’re a fuckin’ tease, girl.” 
The amusement was quick to wipe from your face when he reached down and ripped the panties covering your mound. “Bucky!” you scolded. “Those were new!” 
He rolled his eyes playfully, trying not to laugh at the way the shredded material now hung from your ankle. “Oh, hush. I’ll buy you some more.” 
You huffed. “What? So you can rip them off me again?” 
Bucky chucked under your chin condescendingly. “Look at you, learning so fast.”
Smug bastard, you cursed internally. 
“Gonna stop complaining and let me fuck you now, doll?” 
You scowled and poked his chest with your finger. “You better watch the way you speak to me— OH!” The retort on your tongue cut off as Bucky sheathed the entirety of his length inside of your pussy in one smooth thrust. Your nails dug harshly into the firm muscle of his shoulders and you buried your head into his neck. “H—Holy shit.”
Bucky panted breathlessly, just as affected as you. Though he still had the gall to tease you. “You were saying?” 
You lifted your head to glare at him, still winded. “You’re damn lucky I love you.” And though you wanted to scold your boyfriend for his cheek, you couldn’t help but squirm on his cock. There was only so much you could take until it wasn't enough — you needed him to move. To feel the delicious scrape of his length against your tight walls. “Now shut up and fuck me before someone comes.” 
“You’re so hot when you boss me around,” Bucky moaned before kissing you with urgency. 
The nails of his fingers dug crescent shapes into your bare thighs, but the sting of pain was nothing compared to the slow drag of his cock leaving your cunt. You whimpered as his thick girth left you inch by inch until only the tip sat inside of you. 
“Gonna beg me for it, baby?” he asked. 
You blew out an impatient huff and tugged on his hair harshly until he groaned. “Give me your cock, if you know what’s good for you.” 
“Eh,” he shrugged. “Good enough.” 
A high pitched keen was forced out of you when Bucky thrusted his hips up, the full nine inches of his dick sat deep inside of your pussy. “Fuck!” 
“Should’ve begged like I asked and maybe I’d have gone a little easier on you, sweetheart,” he said tauntingly. 
“If you ever think that I would want it easy then you don’t know me at all,” you clapped back. 
Your boyfriend’s eyes shone with pride. “That’s my girl.”
Bucky fucked like it was the first time every time. His movements were careful and his hands were greedy; always touching you, always gathering you as close as possible to him. And while he was soft with his caresses, his desire to roughly pound his cock into your cunt, as deep as it humanely could, was another story. 
“God, you’re like a fuckin’ vice around my dick,” he choked out. “Would’a thought you’d have loosened up by now, baby. But I can still barely move.” 
Unable to speak without screaming, you sucked his neck, bruising his skin until it turned a dark purple. 
“You markin me, huh? Want everybody to know who I belong to?” 
You nodded your head while whimpering, the nails of your fingers scratching against Bucky’s scalp. 
The motion of his thrusts made his balls slap against your ass — he loved it when you got possessive. “Filthy fuckin’ girl. Don’t worry, doll. I’m all yours.”
Letting go of his neck with a pop, you loudly whined out, “So good— cock feels so good in me, baby. Fucking me just right.”
“Oh, I know. But you gotta turn down the volume, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “Save it for the bedroom, alright?” 
You tried, you really did. But the way the head of his cock repeatedly stroked against the sensitive spongy spot of your pussy made your inhibitions blurry and you couldn’t help moaning like a whore.
Bucky tutted and shook his head in mock disapproval. “Guess I have to do everything for you, hm?” His lips curled up in perverse satisfaction as he shoved three of his fingers into your mouth. 
You hummed around them instantly while staring into his eyes. He made you this way; a willing body for him to toy with, a woman who was quick to fall under his command and you lived for it. You gargled around his large fingers as you jolted each time he drove his cock into you, drool dripping down from your chin and landing on your boyfriend’s lower stomach and dick. 
“Can’t even let my fingers keep you quiet, huh? Just have to make sure everyone knows how good it feels to be fucked by me.” 
Your back slammed against the wall of the stall and the force of Bucky’s hips rocked the whole thing back and forth. His strength only turned you on more and even with the intrusion of his fingers, your noises grew louder, more unabashed. 
“Shit, you sound so pretty.” His eyes darted towards the swinging panties still attached to your ankle and he quickly removed his fingers to grab them. “Such a good girl for me, baby. But I think we need somethin’ a little more efficient to quiet my eager girl down.” 
Before you had the chance to whimper again, Bucky shoved your underwear into your mouth. To both of your luck, your moans became muffled enough to not draw attention. “Perfect.”
Though the volume of your sounds had been solved, the slick noises coming from your dripping cunt became the center of attention. 
“Are you that fuckin’ soaked for me, sweetheart?” Bucky’s eyes rolled back as his cock throbbed at the feel of you. Even though you were wet, your walls still hugged his shaft. 
“Mhm!” you mumbled over your makeshift gag. Your worries of being caught had long disappeared, your main focus now to revel in the building tension from your lower stomach creeping to the surface. 
The two of you were only concealed by a pathetic thin curtain that didn’t even close all the way. It left a large gap, one that should a member of the public managed to notice, would reveal Bucky’s bare ass and your scrunched up face, moaning in pleasure at the feel of his cock. 
Again, you were so far out of your realm to notice. Though Bucky did as he glanced over his shoulder and the high he got from the danger was addictive. 
Wrapping an arm around you tightly, Bucky discreetly reached into his jean pocket with his free hand while keeping up his momentum. He was so close to the edge, balancing on the precipice of cumming, but he strived to hold on just a little longer. 
Grabbing the loose change, he discreetly dispensed it into the money slot of the machine. “You think you’re gonna cum for me, doll?” he asked, short windedly while his thighs trembled. 
You whined desperately around your panties, your eyes glossy from the overwhelming thread that was beginning to unravel. 
“Alright. I’m gonna count down from three and you’re gonna give it to me, yeah? Can you do that for me?” 
Thumping your head back against the wall, you closed your eyes and nodded hastily. 
“Good. Ready, baby?” he asked. 
Your nails scratched the back of his neck in approval and he began. 
“Three.” He pistoned his hips, fucking you with all the energy he had left in him. 
“Two.” The deep dirty grind of cock into your cunt was torturing and your thighs shook as you fought to hold out. 
“One.” On his final count, Bucky pinched your clit, hard. Your eyes shot wide open at the same time multiple bright flashes blanketed the photobooth and your mouth dropped on a muted scream. 
“Holy— F—Fuck!” Your boyfriend’s shout echoed across the white walls while his fist slammed next to your head. A huge load of his cum shot up into your cunt, overflowing the already full hole. 
Your mind swam in ecstasy from the adrenaline filled haze of your orgasm. The pure rush of your sparking nerves was a familiar thing with Bucky and yet the sensation was so deeply gratifying every single time. 
You sucked in lungfuls of air on your comedown, letting your mouth hang open while your ruined panties dropped with a wet slap onto the floor. Shivers wracked through your body and before you could even notice the coldness, Bucky enveloped his warm body around you while he stroked your cheek. 
“That’s it,” he cooed soothingly while he recovered from his own intense orgasm. “Take it easy, sweetheart.” 
You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer to you, until there was no space between you. “That was fun,” you slurred lazily.
Bucky’s tired laugh rumbled through you. “Damn fuckin’ right it was.” Lifting his head out of your neck, he kissed you delicately. “You alright?” 
“I’m great,” you told him truthfully. “Though you may have to help me walk because I can’t feel my legs anymore.” 
He grinned, satisfied. “I’m that good, huh?” 
You lightly smacked his chest, even if you couldn’t contain your own cheesy smile. “Nope. I’m not inflating your ego more than it already is.” Turning your head to the screen of the booth, your eyes widened upon what you saw. “No you did not.” 
“Oh, but I did.” Bucky said proudly. “A little souvenir of our sexual awakening.” 
“Oh my god.” The shock of it rendered you speechless. 
“I know, right? Now you have the photos you wanted.” 
You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. Looking back at your boyfriend, you shook your head. “I wish I could tell you off.” 
“You can tell me I’m a bad boy later,” he suggested with a wink. “For now let's get outta here.” 
Once he gently placed you down, making sure you were steady on your feet, the two of you sorted yourselves; tidying the mess of your sex hair and straightening the wrinkles out of your clothes. Bucky made sure to pocket your panties from the floor, leaving no evidence of your fun. 
“Come on, you.” He lightly slapped your ass before ripping the curtain open. “We’ve still got some shopping to do.” He stepped out, whistling to himself like he hadn’t just fucked you senseless and held his hand out for you to take. 
“You want to go shopping while your cum is literally leaking down my legs as we speak?” you hissed as heat crept up your neck from the thought. 
Bucky leaned his shoulder against the booth and smirked. “Well, we do have to buy you some new underwear. Remember, doll?” 
You so desperately wanted to smack the self-satisfied grin off his face. “You wait until we get home, you little shit.” 
An excited gleam twinkled in his eyes. “Can’t fuckin’ wait, baby.” 
With a huff, you exited the photobooth, begrudgingly sliding your hand into Bucky’s. Before you left to continue your shopping, however, he plucked the Polaroids from the outside dispenser.
Your boyfriend admired the photos, each one a debauched image of you with heavy, hooded eyes with your mouth hung open on a scream. 
“You look good on camera, baby.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “We should make a film next.” 
Trying to clench your thighs together to keep his cum from dripping down your leg, you swatted his arm. “Pfft—you wish, big boy.” 
But Bucky smirked, a wickedness in his expression. “I’m sure I’ll be able to persuade you somehow.” 
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Author’s Note: There may be huge potential for a part two 🫣
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syoddeye · 5 months
Text
john price x f!reader thing. unedited. ~600 words.
john price finds a dent in the driver’s door and a note tucked under a wiper.
sorry i can’t afford to pay, please forgive me x
and he’s angry, of course. who wouldn’t be? piece of shit. then he registers the looping handwriting and the little heart in the corner. interesting. he pulls the cctv. lo and behold, there she is. the culprit. some stumbling drunk buffoon.
~~
you probably shouldn’t have nabbed an e-scooter when you were three sheets to the wind, but you did, and fuck, you’re paying for it. you genuinely feel bad about the dent you left in the parked car last night, but you think a broken wrist and three stitches in your lip is more than enough punishment, thanks. you groan, remembering how you tossed the scooter into a bush and hiked a few streets away before calling 999. having to clock in for an opening shift added insult to injury.
~~
he imagines it’s rough going, working an espresso machine with a busted wrist. he supposes the manager didn’t want her as the cashier given the lip. pity, the swelling and stitches aside, she’s quite cute. but serves her right.
he wonders how she’ll react when he picks up his coffee and procures the printed still of her face, clear as day, fleeing from the scene of the crime.
he should feel bad, considering her injuries and what a barista job pays, but. it’s the principle of the thing.
“rough night?” he asks, hovering at the end of the bar.
“huh? oh, yeah. could say that,” she smiles tiredly. it’s a little strained, but still warm. “pity partied too hard.”
john’s smirk flattens. “pity party?”
“yeah,” she shrugs. “series of unfortunate events.”
like running into my car?
“what, bad date?” he jokes carefully, hiding behind a friendly grin.
“ha, guess so. it was supposed to be an anniversary dinner.” she explains dryly, looking all the more defeated as she tamps the grounds.
“supposed to be?”
she glances up, locking in the portafilter with a crank of her good arm. she finally looks a little suspicious of him. smart. “yeah.”
“i don’t mean to pry. you just seem like you could use a vent.” solid recovery.
it works. she considers a moment, shrugs again, and nods as she pulls the shot. “guess so,” she licks her lip and looks back, evidently deeming him harmless. not smart.
“found out he was cheating, called him on it, and he stormed out. after we ordered.”
that’s. that’s not what he expected. but it stirs something oddly protective. john’s a bit old-fashioned, he’s the first to admit it, so to hear about a man carrying himself so poorly? a man running around on a pretty thing like her?
it doesn’t sit well with him. car be damned.
“so how’d you…” he prompts, nodding at the cast.
“oh, yeah, we ordered some fancy wine. i drank most of the bottle alone, sobbing,” she cracks a self-deprecating smile and it dislodges something in his chest. “but the server didn’t charge me for dessert. i, uh, fell on my way home.”
crashed. you crashed into my car.
“sounds terrible.”
“it was. the whole night was. anyway.” she pauses to slide a pen from her apron to write on the cup. “americano to go?” she asks, pushing the drink over the counter, eyes floating to the next order.
john spots the same little heart, the looping letters. he looks back at her, plugging along despite the clear heartache and injuries. he sighs, crumpling the print out in his pocket.
“think i’ll have it to stay, actually,” he mumbles, knowing she doesn’t hear him as she makes the next drink.
he camps out at a table where he can watch her. there’s a dent in his car, but he’s decided there’s a barista-sized hole in his life.
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moondirti · 6 months
Text
cws: creepy behaviour that leads into future dubcon. you’re not enthusiastic but don’t hate it either? idk how to tag this
a home loaning system where civilians (who pass a thorough vetting by the military) can sublet their home as a safe house for any soldier who might need it.
you’re no patriot. when you sign up, you aren’t doing it to serve those who serve your country like the website suggests. in fact, it’s a last ditch attempt to keep yourself afloat after your roommate moves out and leaves you with a rent you can’t feasibly afford yourself. sacrifice your space in exchange for your housing fully paid for and a headache gone – it’s appealing, certainly, a little too good to be true. you’d suspect it a scam if the url didn’t end in .gov.
they ask for a lot, of course. a photo. your national insurance number, passport details and travel history from the past 10 years. occupation (student, which prompts a second question asking for your school and university ID). a ‘robust’ paragraph about your living habits. family history, health details. you must black out at one point, as you find yourself hitting submit hours later with no knowledge of what to expect.
that is, if you should expect anything. a confirmation email arrives moments later, and that’s the last you hear of it.
until 4 months later. a hefty sum hits your account, set to the exact amount you specified your rent + utilities to cost. the sender is the only indication you get that you’ve been accepted: the royal army pay corps. on their dime now, and expected to act with the utmost discretion – for your sake as much as theirs. you spend that night fighting sleep on the couch, waiting for a knock by some zealot in fatigues.
no one shows up.
not immediately, at least. gratefully – and a tad surprising given your infamously cheap government – you’re paid regardless of whether anyone requires your service or not. for weeks you treat it as passive income, gauze against bleeding finances, tamping your stress so you can focus on your studies instead. life begins to look up. the air smells a little crisper every morning. you sleep deep and well.
but the knock comes. belatedly, but it comes.
at 12 am, no less. you had resolved to pull an all-nighter to study for your midterm, so you don’t miss the low rap of knuckles against your door. though at this point, you’ve long forgotten of the expectation that can be delegated to you at any time. your apartment’s a mess: laundry unfolded, dishes stacked in the sink. what’s more, your spontaneous guest scares you out of your right mind. a quick look through the peephole is enough to tell you that he is not the pizza delivery man, but a figure towering just below two metres, dressed in a balaclava and plain hoodie.
“who is it?” you call out, scrambling for an offensive weapon of any sort. you end up with a broom from the nearby cleaning cupboard.
“lieutenant riley.”
oh.
you crack open the door, poking your head out to give him a thorough once over. “you don’t look very military-like.”
“wha’ a shame.”
lieutenant riley then gives you no choice but to step aside, driving himself through the entryway through brute force. your instinct is to react with pure terror, tripping backward until the broomstick crosses firmly over your chest. yet flight rapidly switches to fight as he dumps his duffel bag by your shoe rack and rummages through your fridge.
“hey! don’t they teach you manners in basic?”
“wouldn’ last a day if they did, pet.” he tucks three water bottles under his arm, then picks his stuff off the ground once more. amidst the warmer light of your home, he stands as a herculean anomaly. shoulders that fill the foyer, each hand as large as your skull. his eyes – shadowed, framed in isolation from the rest of his face. and when he stares, unease bleeds into you. as black and void as his civic garb, forming a tightening grip over your heart.
this strange man is in your home.
this strange, large, dangerous man is here to stay for however long he needs.
he lacks all propriety and unabashedly ogles at your bare legs, adjusting himself in plain sight – and to make things exponentially worse, he isn’t uninvited. you brought this man here.
(which means you’ll have to put up with the strange violation already settling in your chest.)
“your… your room is on the left.”
he says nothing, disappearing to where you point him.
so, the lieutenant is a fucking nightmare.
whatever benefits came with having your rent paid for are immediately negated by the amount of food he consumes. groceries that last you a fortnight are gone in a matter of days, which is perplexing given that you never see him cook. you imagine he slips whatever he can down his throat before going back into hibernation, like some beast too primal for preference.
you call it hibernation because that’s what it is. he knocks out for hours, door locked, no sound or light coming from the gap underneath. you once spent half an hour just listening in after he hadn’t shown face all day, wondering whether you’d be making a call to corpse control for the dead body in your guest room. the effort had been purely motivated by concern, you swear it, however hard that was to explain when he stepped out a few minutes later to find you on your knees, cheek pressed against the floor.
the look he gave you is impossible to forget. hungry, amusement palpable behind the eyes that immediately fix onto your raised behind. you stopped wearing pyjama shorts that day. partly due to your discomfort, but mostly because the pair goes inexplicably missing from your laundry basket. a voice tells you to check under his pillow when he steps out, but the possibility is far too upsetting to seriously consider.
not like he’s above it, though. he crosses so many boundaries, you’d think they weren’t common courtesy.
of such instances: in the months since your roommate moved out, you’d gotten into the bad habit of keeping the bathroom door unlocked. while that is your fault, the terror himself isn’t blameless given his address of the situation. he should be able to hear the water running as you brush your teeth or wash your face, and yet he walks in anyway, pulling his heavy cock out to piss as you try to ignore the way it heaves between his legs, even when completely soft.
“doyewmind?” you hiss one morning, mouth still full of foam. it looms in your periphery, fat and ruddy. a trail of wild hair leading down to–
riley shoots you a blank look. “no’ at all.”
then tucks himself back into his pants, hand smoothing across your lower back as he slips out. it occurs to you to be grateful that he keeps away when you shower, up until the absolute absurdity of your standards hit you like a killing blow.
the bar is in hell.
(yet you sneak a finger between your legs sometimes, only when you’re absolutely sure you’ve locked the door, and imagine how things would unfold if he were to infringe on your most basic of rights.)
it doesn’t take long before your quiet fantasy is realised. all it takes is for you to come home particularly late one night – heels in hand and makeup a mess after letting yourself loose at the end-of-term party – to find riley waiting on you, unmasked.
[next]
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shadowcitrine · 3 months
Text
If you do That Again--
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DarlyxReader 912 words
Warnings: Some language.
Timeline: Not important, season 1-ish
Summary: Daryl is tired of listening to you blowing hair out of your face.
Darly stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw tightening as he glared over his shoulder. “Do tha’ one more time…” His tone is low and threatening, clearly irritated, but there wasn't a reason for it. 
Passing on his left you asked, “What crawled up your ass and died, Dixon?” 
Daryl chewed on the words brewing behind his teeth and marched forward. Why he was pissed off this time was a mystery. Up until now every single one of his demands to be out here with him had been followed to the letter. You'd kept quiet, stayed right on his heels and avoided every single stick you two had come across for at least the last half mile, which for you was a considerable win.
If you'd known he was going to be such an ass you wouldn't have asked to come. With the way he's been acting all day it would have been better to be bored sitting back at camp than deal with the king of grumpy walking buddies. What was worse is his foul mood was starting to rub off on you. Blowing a puff of air upwards you followed the lock of hair flying out of your field of view.
Daryl stopped again this time spinning on his heel. Eyes hard and narrowed, jaw jutting forward he seemed to be sizing you up. The last thing you wanted on this hell hike was to argue but you could see it brewing, unsaid words threatening to burst forward.
“What now?!” You snapped. Quick soured jerks of his head made you feel uneasy, doubly so when his hand went to rest on his knife hilt. The group had warned you about his temper but you'd overlooked that because he was kind of cute when he frowned. 
“All damn day!” He sneered. When you furled your eyebrows in confusion he puffed out his cheeks puffing little breaths between pursed lips. “Fuckin’ sick a’ it!”
“Oh! I'm sorry that the apocalypse didn't come with a thirty pack of elastic hair ties! I can't help the fact that I need to see!”
Daryl shook his head again, fist clenching around the hilt of the blade as he began pulling it out. “Come ‘ere.” He was going to butcher your hair, hack it off just because he was having a shitty day!
“No!” taking a step back away from him you gaped. “I'm gonna let you cut off all my hair!” 
“Ain't cuttin’ your damn hair! Come ‘ere!” he hooked a finger at you. “Gonna stop this shit ‘fore you drive me outta my damn mind.” Daryl is many things but a liar isn't one of then. Taking a cautious step forward ge tucked the blade between his teeth and pulled some string from his pocket. “Tur’ roun’.” 
A tiny gasp left your lips a smile tugging at the corners. “Are you going to do my hair?”
He took the blade from his lips, not an ounce of joy to be read. “Turn ‘round ‘fore I change my mind and saw it off your thick head.” He shoved the string at you. “Hold tha’.” When you didn't move right away he tucked the blade back between his teeth and grabbed your shoulder to spin you around.
He was actually going to do this. No longer facing him you didn't try to tamp down the nerves making goose flesh spreading down your arms. Expecting rough movements for a quick ponytail you were confused when he started sectioning your hair gently freeing tangles from it as he went. 
“Ow!” a sharp pinch at your scalp made you wince.
“Sto’.” The fat syllable sounded wrong in his mouth but you obeyed. He was deft but through fingertips massaging away the sharp pulls of tangles. You hair pulled tight at the back of your head, his actions pulling it backwards causing a strain to keep it upright for a moment. He reached over your shoulder, fingers snapping when you didn't hand him the red piece of dyed twine right away.
Handing it to him you asked, “What did you do to it? Can I see?”
He reached around and used two fingers to guide your face forward again. “Gonna fuck it up if you keep movin’.” Knuckles brushed your upper back, accidental but welcomed and you closed your eyes pretending not to hear the sound of something small snapping. “There! No more listenin’ to you huffin’ and puffin’ all damn day.” He moved away.
“How does it look?” you reached behind touching it, feeling your way down. He'd braided it. There was no stopping the grin that broke out as you pulled the tail over your shoulder to inspect his work. He'd tied off the end tightly finishing the red string with a tiny little bow. “Daryl!” 
“Ain't perfect but it'll hold. Keep it outta your-”
“It's so cute!” Suddenly seeing your inspection wasn't as important as the trees around him. You stepped around him bending to try and catch his eyes. “You even did a bow!” you held the end out for him to see.
“Stop!” the tops of cheeks were pink and while you could pretend it was from the heat you knew that wasn't it.
He started marching away and you ran ahead to try to make him look. “You made it all girly!” you teased. His cheeks were getting redder by the second.
“Stop!”
“Daryl Dixon braided my hair!” you sang out.
“Shut up woman!”
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peachesofteal · 10 months
Text
Light on -single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt(s): fire alarm, reader backstory, reader cooks for Simon, requested by multiple.
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The chair at your kitchen table is small. 
It’s so small, he’s half afraid he might break it, the rickety wood creaking under his weight, and he shifts, leaning back to test its ability, hoping it won’t give way on him. The wood makes a louder groaning sound, and your voice carries from the hall, half of a jest in your tone. 
“Are you trying to break my furniture?” Shit. 
“No.” He shoots to his feet, patting the little wooden chair like he’s trying to comfort it, embarrassed that he’d been caught. “Jus’ trying to test it, make sure it’s not gonna collapse on me.” 
You have an eyebrow raised, returning from your bedroom with a pajama clad Emmaline, little red onesie dotted with deer, your hand patting her back firmly and bouncing her in your arms at the same time, her little brow furrowed like she’s irritated with you. 
“It’s fine. I’m just kidding.” You look down at her and sigh. “Are you going to let me put you down so I can finish dinner?” 
“I can take her.” He offers, and you flash him a relieved smile. 
“Hear that?” You hum in her ear, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “Your favorite person wants to hang out with you.” His stomach clenches. 
“Come here baby girl. Let’s let mum have a break, yeah?” He reaches, and you bend down to place her in his arms, the smell of your skin, your hair, the scent of your laundry detergent flooding his senses. Emmaline is so small in his hands, but he’s growing more comfortable holding her, and when she settles against him easily, he can’t help the warmth that flares in his heart, overflowing through his body with pride, and… something else. Something strong. Something he thinks he knows the name of, but is too afraid to voice. Something that has him dreaming about giving you his last name, giving it to Emmaline too, tacking Riley onto the end of both you, as a stamp, a seal, a promise.
“She still needs to burp.” You tell him softly, pulling the cloth from your shoulder and arranging it onto his, fingers lingering when you smooth it out. “Do you know-“ 
“Yeah.” He assures, swiftly, and you smile again, hand brushing against his when you give her on last little pat on her back. 
“Okay. I’ll work on dinner then.” 
“You ah- don’t have to keep feeding me.” He tells you, even though the full plate of pot roast with stewed carrots, potatoes, and gravy makes his mouth water, massive portion settled in front of him like you’re trying to make sure he’s never hungry again. 
What a good girl, he muses indulgently. Good little mum. Good little wife. Emmaline coos in his arms, still awake, settled on his knee with her back to his stomach, one hand firm around her tummy. He bounces her, one hand with a fork stabbing into a carrot, the other holding her steady. Safely. 
“I can take her, if you want to-“ 
“No. You sit.” He inclines his head, and you blink, before automatically folding into the chair diagonal from him with your own plate. The room is quiet, fork chiming against china, until you speak again. 
“I don’t mind it.” You swallow, taking a long sip of water. “Cooking. For you.” You whisper it to your plate, like it’s a secret, like you’re ashamed, and he tamps down the urge to reach for you. “You do so much for us, you’ve- I don’t know how to repay you.” You’re mine now, sweetheart. You don’t have to repay me. It’s my job to take care of you. Take care of you both. It almost all comes out of his mouth, but instead he changes hands on the baby, putting his fork down and extending the one closest to you, palm open on the table, a gentle entreaty. 
“I don’t mind, helping. Someone’s gotta take care of you girls.” Your eyes go wide, lips parting, before you’re collecting yourself, looking down into your lap with a stunned little smile. “Sweetheart, I-“ 
The words are robbed from him, stolen by a screeching, blaring noise in the hallway, a high-pitched alarm that has him out of the chair, shoving the table with one hand and positioning himself between the door and you, curled over Emmaline who’s now crying, startled. 
“Fire alarm.” You wince, but when he doesn’t relax, your expression goes waxy, soothing, and your hand finds the inside of his elbow. “It’s just a fire alarm, Simon. People fuck with the pull station now and then. Probably nothing.” It takes a second, a second too long for his brain to catch up, and when it does, he blanches, looking you over for fear, repulsion, of him. Distaste of the secondhand reaction that he just cannot control. 
He doesn’t find it. Only blithe acceptance. Understanding. He clears his throat. “Let’s get outside then.” 
It’s cold outside. Winter is in full swing, and he’s happy he forced you into your winter jacket when did, amid your distraction, too pre-occupied with wrestling a screaming Emmaline into her coat and hat, swaddling her up in a fluffy blanket before you even stopped to think about yourself. 
“It won’t be long.” You tell him, alternating between trying to soothe the baby’s frantic tears, and looking around anxiously. “Station seventy-four is just a few blocks north.” Station seventy-four? “Look, see?” You point, cooing at Emma, red emergency lights flashing down the street. You stray closer to him, pressing into his side, and he puts his arm around you, squeezing your shoulder. You’re… nervous, and he’s not sure why. The fire alarm didn’t seem to rattle you too much but now, you’re chewing on your lip, eyes scanning across the people milling about outside. 
“You alright?” He murmurs, and you nod. 
“Just cold.” You reply through clenched teeth. 
It doesn’t take long for the fire service to get the building sorted, and once they give the all clear, you break from his side, beelining towards the front of the building. He’s about to jog after you, surprised at the pace that you've managed to make, when he hears someone calling your name. Practically yelling it, and he pulls up short.
It's a firefighter. He approaches you with an open palm, like he's trying to corner a wounded animal, and your face pinches at the corners, hand cradling the back of Emmaline's head. Simon inches closer, getting within ear shot, using the dark and the people still scattered about to sink into shadow, becoming Ghost, silent, unnoticed, and lethal. Nearly unseen.
"-are you?" The firefighter asks, staring at the baby in your arms with wide eyes.
"I'm fine. We're fine." You reply stiffly, looking away with a grim, haunted expression.
"You never come down to the station... we'd- we'd love to see you both. Or if you ever needed anything, we're here for you. We-"
"Thanks." you cut him off, trying to turn away, but he steps after you, protesting.
"I know it doesn't-"
"Officer." An older man interrupts, sharply, and the younger firefighter straightens.
"Captain."
"You're needed for system reset." He instructs, and the officer takes one last look at you, something conflicted in his face, before nodding and stepping away. "He's not wrong." The Captain tells you gently, and you shake your head.
"We don't need anything from you."
"You need community. Support. The station is a family, we look after our own."
"I'm not your own." You snap. "He was! He was your own. And how well did you look after him, Captain?" The words are vicious, pointed like arrows, seeking to maim, to hurt, and the look on your face is so anguished, so tormented, that Simon can't stand to see it for one more second.
"Everything alright?" He steps between you and the Captain, positioning his body so that you're half hidden, and your shoulders immediately slump, tension draining from you when you look up into his face.
"Yeah, let's go inside. It's too cold out." You tell him, and he nods, casting a glance over his shoulder at the frowning man, letting his hand slide over your shoulder and down your spine, directing you inside and keeping you close.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks again once you're in the hallway outside your door, and you turn into him, close enough that he can lean his nose down to skim through your hair.
"I'm okay." You whisper, fingers finding his at his hip. "We're okay."
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tojisun · 4 months
Text
"won't you show me what's underneath that skirt, sweetheart?" simon rumbles as he noses along your jaw, breathing in that clean but sweet scent that you love so much; the one that he's so addicted to already.
the summer heat is stifling, but you don't want simon to pull away. his hand is warm as it grips the flesh of your thigh, thick fingers dimpling your skin. it makes something in you throb—pulsing with need, and you are unable to tamp down the yowling desire thrumming at your core.
his words wash over your like sticky, sweet honey—intoxicating and dizzying. overwhelming.
"okay," you whisper, your voice soft and saccharine. tender and soft.
all parts you, and simon's addicted. hooked.
you've bewitched him in ways he could not fully word out, but he finds that he does not care. that he likes it this way, in fact—needy and desperate for you.
you shrug off his hold, shy as you slide in front of him, staring at him with those alluring eyes of yours. you have your bottom lip trapped between pearly teeth. you fist your skirt, hands trembling in your own feverish desires, the cloth bunching up in your hold, before tugging the fabric up.
"god," simon croaks out, chubbing up underneath his slacks, the weight of his cock heavy on his thigh. "look at you, little bird."
you tremble at the weight of his own desires.
simon smiles, his lips wobbling in his captivation. "you are so beautiful, it's catastrophic."
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eddiethebrave · 20 days
Text
secret admirer part eighteen
767 words
one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen
Steve isn’t sure what to do. He knows what he wants to do. He wants to stuff Eddie’s locker full with every thought he’s had in the past week and a half without an outlet. But would he be receptive to that?
By practice the next morning he’s decided that he’ll give it a try and then see if Eddie’s still wearing the ring.
He figures the boy isn’t ready to talk about it face-to-face yet, given he brought out the ring instead of simply talking to him. Then he had the gall to ask Steve if he was okay.
No. He’s really not.
Eddie you talk with your hands a lot it’s hypnotizing it was one of the first things i noticed about you at the beginning of the year i never knew what you were saying from so far away  but i felt like i was in on the conversation just from that and i never feel like that, so thank you p.s. i’ve missed talking to you well, not talking, but you know p.s.s. i could definitely say more but i don’t wanna bombard you  so we’ll save all that for later thank you for giving me another chance
Steve is nervous walking into the lunch room. For the first time since he switched, he takes his usual seat on the side of the table where Eddie is in his line of sight. 
Steve was worried that he would have changed his mind and taken the ring off, but there it is on his right hand. 
Steve actually engages in conversation with Tommy and Carol for the rest of lunch so Eddie doesn’t see him staring, even if he feels a little better about it now that Eddie knows who he is and is still wearing the ring. 
Out of the corner of his eye, though, he catches sight of Eddie talking animatedly to his friends, arms waving this way and that, perhaps a bit more than usual and Steve has to tamp down a smile. 
They don’t talk in class until the bell rings and Steve realizes Eddie didn’t say where they were meeting after class today. 
He must have forgotten all about it because he goes to stand up and Steve has to catch him by the wrist before he makes his escape. Eddie jerks back out of instinct and shoots him a questioning look. Steve busies himself with packing his bag to avoid eye contact. “Wanna meet at Benny’s? On me?” he asks tentatively.
Eddie bats his lashes. “Steve Harrington wants to buy little ol’ me a milkshake from Benny’s Burgers? Oh my,” he says breathily, fanning himself.
Despite him raising the pitch of his voice several octaves to sound more feminine, Steve’s face still burns. Oh god. 
Steve rolls his eyes and swings his backpack over his shoulder. “Is that a yes?”
Eddie nods, pulling a piece of his hair over his face and as cute as the whole blushing maiden act is, Steve has to resist reaching out to tuck the hair back in place so he can see his smile. 
He bites his lip and backs away. “See you there, Munson.”
“Yup, see you there, Harrington.”
— — — — 
They don’t talk much once they get going on their projects. Eddie, of course, attempts multiple times to catch sight of Steve’s portrait. 
He even goes as far as to sneak up on him on his way back from the bathroom, not thinking Steve would be anticipating the act. Steve had pulled a blank piece of paper out of his bag and placed it over his actual project. On the paper, he drew a stick figure with Eddie’s haircut and huge eyes. Remembering how much Eddie had seemed to like Steve’s more unsettling attempts at art, Steve made the eyes as realistic as he could manage while the rest of the thing looked like a child had drawn it in a hurry. 
Steve didn’t even know Eddie had come out of the bathroom until he heard laughing and wheezing coming from behind him. 
He didn’t turn around. He simply sipped his strawberry milkshake until Eddie fell into his seat once he’d calmed down. The boy pouted for all of two seconds before breaking out into a smile and commending Steve’s foresight. 
Once they pack up and Steve pays the bill, they make their way outside and he pulls out the prank drawing. 
“Here,” he says, holding it out to Eddie. 
“For me?” The smile he gets in return is beaming.
Steve’s rides that high well into the next day.
nineteen
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sorry if i missed anyone!!
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rebelfell · 22 days
Text
shelter from the storm
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eddie munson x fem!reader
When your power gets knocked out, your neighbor comes to check on you and make sure you’re okay. Among other things.
18+, MDNI 2.8k
cw: plus-size reader, drinking/smoking, references to r’s shitty ex/domestic disputes, some good old making out & grinding.
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The lights in your trailer barely flickered as the storm outside knocked out your power. 
In an instant you were plunged into total darkness, broken up only by brief flashes of lightning that struck overhead. The silence that engulfed you was almost oppressive, the outage having silenced everything, down to the ambient noise you had grown so accustomed to you only noticed it missing once it was gone—the distant drone of your A/C unit, the steady hum of your fridge, the static buzz of your radio.
They all ceased at once, leaving only the sounds of the storm.
You’d curled up on the sofa just as it was getting starting, your eyes drifting from the old black and white movie playing on your TV to watch the trees bend and sway in the howling winds, dark clouds heavy with rain rolling in to blot out the sun.
And if you just so happened to catch a glimpse of your next door neighbor outside weatherproofing his windows, dressed in nothing but gray sweats slung dangerously low on his narrow hips and toned, tapered waist…
Well, that was just a bonus.
You certainly hadn’t chosen this spot in particular for its view of Eddie’s place. And it wasn’t like you had sat here many, many times before to watch him lounging on his porch, strumming his beat-up acoustic, or doing maintenance on his van in a sweaty tank top that clung so artfully to his lean frame, showing off sinewy, tattooed arms that flexed with every crank of a wrench and made your mouth run dry imagining his veins bulging while he cranked something else.
No, you simply enjoyed watching the storm. Seeing the rain come down in sheets, darkening the earth and tamping down the dust of the main dirt road. You found it oddly soothing to see the garishly bright cracks of lightning split the sky before the BOOM of thunder that followed.
At least until the power went out.
You jumped slightly at it, in spite of yourself, heartbeat picking up in your chest as the sound of your heavy breathing filled the air. You inhaled deeply, taking a moment to steady yourself only for you to jump all over again as someone started knocking rhythmically on your front door.
It was Eddie. And he was drenched.
In the handful of seconds it must have taken him to leave his place and cross the road, he had been effectively soaked through.
His clothes were clinging to him, his white shirt translucent enough in some places you could see the black ink drawings scrawled on his skin under it. And his long hair, typically all frizz and fluff, had started to form into wet clumps, his short bangs plastered to his forehead, water running down his soft features. And his pants…
Well, you couldn’t even trust yourself to look down at his pants right now.
But even in his current state, his smile still shone like pure sunshine as he grinned and motioned behind you inside your darkened trailer.
“I saw your lights went out too,” he said. “Wanted to make sure you’re alright.”
“Oh…oh yeah, I’m–I’m fine,” you replied, shifting excitedly under the intensity of his gaze.
“You sure? You look a little…” His eyes flickered as they ran up and down your body, lingering on the sight of your bare legs in your sleep shorts, your thighs pressed tight together. “...spooked.”
You swallowed harshly, practically gulping as his eyes returned to your face.
“N-no, I’m just—” you tittered nervously, “Sorry, it must be the storm. I’m fine, really.”
“Oh. Okay. I, uh…I guess I’ll be going, then” he said, glancing out at the storm raging beyond the cover of your porch. You felt your bottom lip pull between your teeth as you watched him turn.
“Eddie, wait!”
You called out to him, words tumbling forth in a mad dash. For a moment, you feared the storm might be too loud and he wouldn’t hear you over it, but it seemed your voice had risen enough to make him pause, his foot hovering over the top step, Adidas slide being pelted with rain.
“Do you want a drink?” you asked.
He looked back at you over his shoulder and then slowly swiveled back around, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smirk. You licked your lips, still trying to be coy as you held his gaze.
“I made up a cooler in case the power went out,” you explained. “Y’know, just to avoid opening up the fridge. Wasn’t exactly expecting to need it so soon, but…”
You gave a little shrug of your shoulders and leaned up against the door frame. Eddie’s eyes traveled all across your body again, and from the salacious look in his eyes, you might have thought you’d just offered to blow him right there on your porch. Which you hadn’t. Not yet, anyway.
He jerked his chin lightly in a nod, Cheshire Cat grin spreading. Teeth showing.
“Sounds perfect, sweetheart.”
Eddie settled himself in on the couch while you went to retrieve a pair of beers from the cooler, lighting some candles along your way.
Seeing the one you’d preemptively set out on the coffee table, he leaned forward and dug his Zippo from his pocket. He lit it on his thigh, dragging it towards his body to open the top cover and then flicking it forward against his pant leg to strike it.
A long flame emerged from the silver box and he touched it to the wick, face bathed in the same wash of warm, orange light as when he lit up a cigarette or a joint. He caught your eye as you watched him from the kitchen and you chuckled when he started to expertly flip the lighter over and under his fingers, shiny metal catching the candlelight before it was tucked away.
He held his hand out for the beer you extended as you approached and you tried not to think too hard about just how large it looked as it wrapped around the emerald body of the bottle, his chunky silver rings only making his long fingers look all the more delectable. The flame from the candle on the table reflected in his eyes that had gone black in the dark. As though they were all pupil.
“Nice view,” he smirked, his gaze dancing as he nodded out the window at his own trailer.
“It’s okay,” you sighed, settling into the cushions. “Except for when my neighbor’s out there.”
“Oh, yeah?” Eddie’s brow arched, crooked smile still spread wide. “He must be super distracting. Can’t keep your eyes off him, can you?” 
You scrunched your nose, bobbing your head.
“More like I can’t get a minute of peace with all the racket he makes.”
You stuck your foot out to kick him, but gasped softly as he wrapped his hand firmly around your ankle and pulled your leg into his lap. Your toes wiggled against his thigh and Eddie’s grip on you loosened. He brushed his fingertips in swirling circles up your bare calf, letting them drift lightly over your skin until he heard your breath stutter and felt you shiver under his touch.
Shit. How long had it been since someone had touched you like that?
Eddie stopped himself halfway to your knee, eyes lifting to meet yours from under a raised brow in a silent question of, is this alright?
And you aren’t quite sure of your answer. 
You’ll have to let him know once you figure out whether or not you’re dreaming.
A clap of thunder outside restarts your heart in your chest. Your whole foot flexed instinctively, the dampness under it reminding you of how he had arrived, soaked through and dripping.
“Do you want some dry clothes?” you asked, drawing your leg back and tucking it underneath you. “I have some stuff you can wear, y’know. Sweats and a tee shirt.”
No underwear, but you don’t say that. 
Eddie’s tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek and he stared intently at your mouth as he thought, startling when he realized how long he’d been quiet for. Like he forgot how to talk.
“I’d love it,” he said, eyes never leaving your lips.
You slinked back towards the bedroom and went to your closet to dig out the last lone box of your ex’s shit—your spite box, for lack of a better term. It contained all the things he’d been asking you if you’d seen anywhere since he moved out.
Things you felt he no longer had any right to.
Among them, a Venom tee from their Seven Dates of Hell tour you’d found at a flea market and he’d just started wearing because it was “too small for you, anyway,” apparently; and a pair of cashmere joggers you’d splurged on as a gift when he burned a hole in his regular pair.
“Bathroom’s through there,” you said, nodding towards it as you held out the clothes to Eddie.
He rose off the couch abruptly, crowding into your space so your bodies were just inches apart. His scent came off him and made a home in your nose, thick and musky like suede and a bit earthy like the weed he might have smoked earlier or maybe even had on his person.
You found yourself fluttering at the sudden intrusion. But you didn’t dare pull away.
His face was even more beautiful up close, littered sparsely with freckles you had never noticed before. The lines under his cheeks so deep you could see them even when he wasn’t smiling. The slightly round, almost bulbous tip of his nose that added to his soft features.
Warmth enveloped your fingers as he laid his hands over yours to take the clothes from you, so much electricity buzzing between you you half expected all the lights to jolt back to life.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he purred. All low and rumbly like the distant thunder.
You tried to answer, but with your mouth and throat suddenly achingly dry for some reason, you could only nod as he brushed past you to go change. Blaming the lack of A/C for the way your face flushed and how your chest heaved, struggling to draw air into your lungs.
Reaching for your beer that was already starting to sweat with condensation, you gulped down a long swallow merely for some relief. And you nearly spat it out at what you saw next.
You couldn’t see Eddie, but he left the door open while he changed and his top half was just barely visible in the mirror. He was mostly shrouded in shadows, but the flame that flickered in there danced over the shape of his torso and the angular planes of his back as he turned.
The soft clinking sound of him undoing his belt preceded him dropping his pants, revealing that slutty little waist of his and the very top curve of his ass. Internally, you cursed your mirror for cutting off where it did and then chastised yourself for even looking.
Fucking pervert, you thought bitterly.
You returned to the couch and forcibly turned your head back towards the window. The rain was coming down so hard now you couldn’t even see Eddie’s place. It made your heartbeat quicken at the thought that he might not want to go back out in it anytime soon. That he might stay.
“These belong to numb nuts?” Eddie asked from behind you with a smirk you could hear.
He plopped himself back down on the sofa, so close it made you bounce slightly on the middle cushion, his knee now brushing with yours.
You paused for a moment, admiring the sight of him. The shirt was a little big, but it hung nicely on his broad shoulders and he’d tucked the hem partially into the waistband of the joggers. They certainly looked a lot better on him than they ever did on your ex.
“Technically,” you smirked back, “I kept them in lieu of alimony.”
Eddie smiled, but it fell slightly, his eyes cast downward to where your knee met his. He ran his thumb over the valley between them, touching yours and then his in a steady rhythm.
“You doing alright?” he asked. “With all that?”
You shrank slightly, thinking of all your fights with him Eddie might have overheard. All of the times you slammed the door as you stormed out and went to sit on the picnic table in your robe and slippers, eyes stinging as you tried not to cry.
You were so tired of crying.
More than a few times, Eddie had happened to come out with a cigarette while you were there. He always shrugged off your apologies, like he didn’t know what you were talking about when you told him you were sorry about the noise.
He’d just shook his head and muttered, don’ ever need to apologize to me for that as he pulled a Camel from his pack with his teeth.
Before long, h’d started to pull out two and lit them both at once before handing you the spare.
“I think I am, actually,” you said, surprising yourself with how true it was. “I…I don’t think I realized just how much of his shit I was carrying around with me until I put it down.”
Eddie nodded thoughtfully and his eyes flitted back up to your face, a proud smile on his lips.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice far too deep and his eyes too dark for you to mistake his intentions.
The praise trickled down your spine like you were underneath a shower head with a slow leak.
It made you squirm with need, nearly convulsing you wanted so badly to turn on the tap full blast and let the water spray down your back.
Eddie licked his lips and he nodded downward, making you think for one mind-melting second that he was trying to get you to look at his cock. But he was just indicating the pants on his legs.
“These are so soft,” he hummed. And your eyes followed his hand as he rubbed it back and forth across his own thigh before they lifted to meet his gaze. “You wanna feel?”
He shifted down in his seat, letting himself sink fully into the cradle of the cushions. Both his feet planted solidly on the floor, legs spread slightly apart so his lap looked like the most inviting and enticing seat you’d ever seen in your life. It made your heart hammer as you stared at it.
“C’mover here, pretty,” he said, patting his thigh once more. “Please?”
Your head shook on instinct. “Eddie, no, I’m—”
He silenced the too heavy already queued up on your lips by wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and pulling your face into his. He licked the words right off your tongue and swallowed them down like they were his abandoned beer.
The surprise of his mouth on yours made your mind blank, your body and instincts taking over completely as you scrambled on top of him.
As your knees settled on either side of his hips, he groaned deeply—not in pain, not grunting with effort, just with the pure joy of finally getting to feel your weight settling onto him.
His arms slid around your waist and he squeezed you against him even tighter, encouraging you to give more of that exquisite pressure. He kissed you until your lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, your head falling forward to lay on his shoulder as you tried to catch your breath.
You inhaled more of his scent, extra concentrated at his neck, making you dizzy with his musk. 
He kissed along your shoulder, to your neck, to the lobe of your ear he took between his lips and sucked on it like it was your clit—hard.  And your reaction was more or less the same as if it was.
Your back arched, chest squishing up against his until his chin rested in your cleavage. His arms un -wound from around you to run his hands up the curve of your spine, making you shiver when his fingertips reached the nape of your neck.
“I’ve seen you watching me,” he husked gently in your ear, feeling the goosebumps that raised on your skin. “I know what you want…”
A gasp fluttered in your chest as his hands dropped to your thighs, rough palms coasting across soft skin until every single one of your fine hairs was standing on end. He then grabbed onto your ass, firmly gripping your cheeks in each hand to haul you forward in his lap, the firm shape of his hard cock pressing insistently against the dampness soaking through your shorts.
“How about…” He groaned low in your ear once again, his warm breath rushing across your neck, “...we see how many times I can make you cum before the lights turn back on?”
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ty for reading. love you, mean it! ☔️
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aerynwrites · 9 months
Text
Dreams Become Reality
Gale Dekarios x Fem!Reader
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A/N: FINALLY got this finished lmao. Posted a teaser of this weeks ago and it has been sitting in my drafts ever since staring at me as I stared back it. Type a few words. Stop for a few says. Few more words, an even longer break. And so on lol. But it’s finally here! Based on the request.
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, smut, Reader is described as having female anatomy, fingering, gale comes untouched (kinda), choking, wet dreams, inappropriate use of Mage Hand, fluff and slight aftercare at the end.
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The air around you is thick. 
Thick with tension. Thick with the warm breaths leaving both your lips. Thick with the smell of arousal. 
It’s all consuming - Gale, is all consuming. Surrounding and overtaking your every sense. 
The scent of him fills your nose - sandalwood, and old books, and right now, sweat. The exertion has made a thin layer form on his skin as his body slides against your own. 
Gale surrounds you in every way, cocooning you between his body and the sheets, his lips very rarely leaving your skin as he moves with you, thrusting his hips against your own, bringing you closer and closer to the edge you long to jump off of. 
“Gale…” 
His name falls from your lips in a whispered prayer, begging for more as he responds with a soft groan of his own. 
He calls your name, and you whine in response. But then he calls it again, the sound falling in a gasp from his lips as one of his hands reaches up to clasp your shoulder in tight grip. 
He calls your name again and this time darkness crashes around you as you startle awake in bed. 
Your sleep clothes cling uncomfortably to your sweat-damp skin. Blood rushes in your ears as your chest rises and falls with effort to suck in air. And worst of all is the ache in your core, arousal burning bright in your belly from what you now realize was a dream. 
Another gentle squeeze to your shoulder makes your eyes finally fall to Gale, who sits beside you in the bed and appears positively flustered. 
He’s as short of breath as you are, chest stuttering as he gazes at you, eyes wide. You look him over quickly, and even in the darkness of the room you’re able to see the way his pupils are blown wide with lust and dark flush on his cheeks. And, you definitely don't miss the sight of him hard beneath the covers. 
“Shit…” you mutter, your own face heating up as you realize what happened. 
“Did I wake you?” you ask softly, trying and failing to tamp down the images from your dream. “I was…I’m sorry-“
Gale shakes his head, his hand falling down to lace his fingers with yours as his lips tilt up in a small smile. 
“No need for apologies,” he tells you, ever so slightly leaning in. “Most people would consider that a compliment. When their partner dreams of them in such a manner, well - at least, I hope it was me that was plaguing your dreams considering it was my name falling from your lips-“ 
You cut him off as you lunge for him, covering his mouth with your hand as you shush him, embarrassment swelling in your chest. 
“Do you ever stop talking?” 
Gale hums beneath your hand, and reaches up to pull it away from his mouth. You expect him to respond but instead, suddenly, he flips you over and presses you back into the mattress, his body hovering over yours as his hands hold your own beside your head. 
“I do indeed know when to hold my tongue but…” He pauses for a moment, and you blink in surprise as a candle on the bedside table ignites with a wave of his hand, casting you both in a dim glow before he continues. 
“I find myself most curious as to what had you calling my name like that even in the deepest sleep.” 
Gods, you feel at war with yourself. The embarrassment creeping up your neck and heating your cheeks, clashing with the arousal still burning bright in your veins. The images from your dream flash behind your eyes as they slip closed, yet the thought of voicing them makes you shrink into the covers. 
As if sensing your hesitancy, Gale is the first to act, leaning in to capture your lips in a soft kiss, lips moving against yours before he pulls away just slightly, nose brushing your own. 
“How about I guess, hm?” he asks, his voice low as one of his hands lets go of one of yours. 
His fingers brush against the shell of your ear, traveling lower over your neck, down over your shoulder to brush against your clothed breast. Your breath hitches with the contact, and you watch through half-lidded eyes as Gale’s lips tilt upward ever so slightly. 
“Was I touching you here?” he asks, voice a mere whisper as his thumb rubs over the stiff peak of your nipple. “Or perhaps it was…here…”
His hand leaves your chest in favor of slipping ever downwards, toying with the thin fabric of your underwear beneath your sleeping gown. 
Without much thought, you nod your head, a moan slipping past your lips as the heat of your arousal burns brighter. 
Gale’s eyes twinkle with triumph, and instead of leaving him with that satisfaction, another flash from your dreams makes you speak before that earlier embarrassment can creep back up. 
“But…there was something else…” you manage to say, your voice soft as your cheeks blaze with heat. 
Gale’s head tilts to the side ever so slightly at your words, brows winging up in surprise as he stills. 
“Oh?” he breathes. “Now I must know what was going on in that beautiful head of yours.” 
Despite your best effort, something akin to shame wells up in your chest, regret at ever saying anything invading your mind. But Gale’s unadulterated interest, that ever present curiosity in his gaze, practically begs you to please him by voicing your fantasies. 
You let out a shaky sigh. “What if…what if you think it’s…what if you don’t like it?” you ask sheepishly. 
Gale lets out a small chuckle, eyes soft as his free hand retreats from between you to rest encouragingly against your hip, squeezing gently. 
“My love,” he says quietly. “I can assure you that you will receive no wayward looks or reprimands from me. Your desires and fantasies are your own, I must admit - but dare I say I would be more than eager to help you fulfill them.” 
His words soothe you slightly, but that doubt is still present, and Gale must know you’re about to protest when your lips part, because he stops you with another kiss. 
“I assure you,” he says as he pulls away just enough to hover over you. “If for any reason I am not comfortable I will make it known. Just as I would expect you to do if our positions were reversed.” 
You manage a small nod, muscles quivering in subdued excitement as you reach down to take the hand at your hip slowly bringing it back on your body. 
“You were touching me there,” you say softly, voice sultry with arousal. “But you were also…here.”
Your nerves are still tingling with a tinge of uncertainty as you guide his hand to the base of your throat. 
A shiver passes the through you as the calloused palm of his hand brushes over the delicate skin, his fingers twitching in surprise as you gently press them to wrap around the sides of your neck. 
You watch through lowered lashes for his reaction, your heart tittering when his breath hitches, eyes widening and going dark with lust all at once. 
For just a brief moment, you expect him to pull away, but Gale - as usual - surprises you. His fingers flex, pressing just a bit firmer into the pulse points of your neck, his palm placing just the barest of pressure to your throat, making your already labored breathing come out ragged as a moan slips past your lips. 
“Gods above…” Gale groans, leaning up so his lips hover over your own. “This is what you dreamt of? My hands on your skin, bringing you pleasure while also toying with the slightest bit of danger?” 
He presses his fingers in deeper, not enough to leave marks or completely cut off air, but more than before and enough to make you acutely aware of the blood pumping beneath his fingers, and the breath straining through your throat. 
You can feel new wetness pooling between your thighs, joining the arousal already present from your obscene dreamscape.
And Gale…Well, he seems just as affected as you are. His hips have slotted against your own, pushing up your nightgown as he presses himself against you. 
All you can manage is a small nod to his question, not sure you’d be able to speak if you wanted to. Ecstasy courses through your veins, buzzing delightfully and fanning those flames burning deep in your core even higher as his hand tightens just that much more around your throat. 
Another moan works its way up your throat, this time getting stuck before it can fully pass your lips, the sound smothered by the pressure again your neck. 
Gale lets out another sinful sound, his hips pressing more incessantly against your own, enough that you can feel the hardness of him against your clothed center. 
Just when you think he’s had enough, that all too familiar heated look in his eyes, he pauses. 
Your brows furrow as his grip against your throat loosens as he mutters an unintelligible incantation. You go to question him, but you hear his answer before you even voice the question. 
His voice is smooth in your mind, as if he’s speaking directly to you, his lips never moving. 
‘I don’t want there to be any question of if you’re able to stop me.’ His thought comes into your mind as easily as if he were speaking, and your eyes widen. 
“Detect thoughts?” you ask, shocked at the brilliance of the idea. 
Now neither of you need to physically speak to communicate, thus no fear for Gale if you need to stop. 
Gale smiles, leaning down to capture you lips in a searing kiss. 
‘Exactly,’ he says in your mind. ‘And now…there is no need for my lips to leave your skin, no distractions from fulfilling that dream of yours…’
“Gale, please-“ you beg aloud, your patience now gone, and your only desire being him touching you, taking you in the way he was before your dream was snatched from your unconscious hands. 
Gale chuckles, lips breaking from yours to travel lower, nipping at your jaw and trailing featherlight kisses down your neck. 
‘Though I must admit…those words sound much sweeter falling from your lips than floating through my mind.’
He continues his path downwards, no doubt leaving behind ample evidence of his attentions, until he’s stopped in his tracks by the collar of your sleep clothes. It’s then that you both finally move to divest yourselves of the offending articles. 
Your hands move frantically against Gale’s velvet shirt, the fabric clinging to your hands as you bunch it up to eventually tug it over his head. His pants are not far behind, the renowned wizard helping you with those before his lips are on you once more, only parting from you as he removes your nightgown, the fabric forcing you to separate for just a moment before you claim him again. 
It feels like déjà vu as Gale presses you back into the mattress, his body caging you in, cocooning you in a heady warmth as his scent surrounds you. 
Flashes of your dream come to mind once more, and you’re forced to swallow the moan that Gale lets out, his teeth nipping gently at your bottom lip as he begs for entrance. 
You grant his silent request eagerly, moaning unabashedly agsint him as his tongue presses forward to glide against your own. 
Gale has always been a giving lover, desperate to show you how much he loves you when his words sometimes fail him. Even now you can tell he’s hells bent on indulging your fantasies. But it feels different…It feels as if he’s more eager than usual. His lips less precise, his fingertips digging just a bit harder into your hips…
He’s ravenous. 
And who are you to complain? 
Sensing your thoughts, you can feel Gale smile agsint your lips, his voice flooding your mind once more as you open your own to the spell.
“Ravenous, indeed,” he affirms, his hand snaking it’s way back up your sternum, closing deftly around your throat as he pulls away only to gaze down at you. 
His lips are swollen from your charred kisses, chest quickened with short pants, eyes blown wide with lust as he fully takes you in beneath him. 
“I have seen your desires in your minds eye,” he says aloud, voice drenched in pure sin. “But perhaps I may make a suggestion?”
You can only nod, a whimper slipping past your lips as his fingers tighten against your pulse point, teasing you with the barest hint of pressure. 
He smiles down at you - a wicked cunning thing, and you can’t help the way the coil in your belly pulls ever more taut, blood hot with ecstasy at the gleam in his eyes. 
He leans back down, another soft incantation falling from his lips before they capture your own again, and he’s speaking in your mind again just as a ghostly touch brushes against the delicate skin of your inner thigh. 
“With my hands most occupied-“ he flexes his hand against your throat, finally giving you the pressure you wish for as his other hand support himself beside your head. “I’ll need another to assist.”
He gives you no true warning before you feel a hand at your center, palm pressed agsint your clit as two fingers drag agonizingly slow through your slick folds. 
Gale’s hand cuts off the moan that bubbles up in your throat, lips swallowing what little sound does slip through, as your hips buck up into his own. 
Mage hand.
You barely have time to register that the sneaky bastard had cast the spell before the extension of himself is teasing you one more, pressing against that bundle of nerves before moving down to sink two fingers into you. 
Gale presses his fingers deeper into the sides of your throat as you groan once more - both from the magic pleasuring you and the rush in your head from the way he chokes you. 
You don’t even realize how close you were to the edge until this moment. The pressure building in your core and in your head feeling like too much in the best way possible. 
Everything feels like it’s been dialed to one hundred. The threads of the sheets beneath your skin, the smell of Gale surrounding you, the way his lips brush against your cheek when he breaks from the kiss, the fingers moving inside of you - brushing against that spot that makes you see stars.
You can feel the way his breath comes out in short bursts, the air warm against your dewy skin as he presses his body into your own. 
It’s just like your dream again. Him cocooning you entirely, his smell making your mouth water, his hand against your throat making your head pound, and his magic finally throwing you over the edge. 
You come with little warning to the wizard above you, but you’re sure he is able to tell. Whether it be from your jumbled thoughts no doubt being shouted at him from your connection, or the fact that he knows you so well…He’s prepared. 
As you tumble over that precipice, Gale applies just a little more pressure to your throat, enough so you can still gain air, but just barely.
You can feel your pulse pounding beneath his fingertips, your breath scratching against your throat as ecstasy consumes you. It feels as if pure starlight ignites in your veins, a ragged moan breaking through as you arch up into the body above you, seeking more from your lover as he does the same, grinding his hips into yours.
Gale reaches his own end virtually untouched, the mere friction from your body against his and the pure pleasure of indulging your fantasy has him spending himself on your stomach with a groan. 
His grip around your neck loosens before disappearing entirely as he all but collapses against you, uncaring of the mess between you two as he slips strong arms around you before rolling to the side, taking you along with him. 
It’s a few moments before either of you speak, and you realize both the mage hand and the detect thought spells have ended. No doubt Gale’s own end brought about the disruption of his concentration. But when words finally come, it’s Gale who speaks first. 
His fingers brush against your neck gently, barely a whisper of skin against skin as he takes a deep breath. 
“I fear I may have gotten carried away,” he says softly, brows furrowed in concern as you pull away just enough to look at him. 
You reach up, your fingers bumping against his own and can feel the way your skin burns just slightly hotter where his hand was earlier. There must be faint marks of your activities, and you have to try to quell the new stab of arousal that shoots through you. 
“You didn’t,” you assure him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “It was perfect.”
His face relaxes at your words, lips tugging upwards slightly. 
“Yes, well…Next time perhaps you can indulge me with your deepest fantasies verbally, instead of waking me in the middle of the night.”
You raise a questioning brow at him, hands sliding up until you can slide your arms around his neck.
“Are you saying you didn’t enjoy yourself?” 
Gale scoffs, nearly choking on air. “By the gods, no!” He says, aghast. “I’m simply saying that perhaps, in the future, we can disclose our fantasies more readily…So we may indulge as we please.”
You hum softly, eyes widening at his words. 
“Our fantasties?” You question, watching as a blush starts to tinge the wizard's cheeks.
“Ah, well - ehm - Yes. You didn’t think you’re the only one with uh…secret desires, did you?”
Slowly, you move so that Gale is laid out beneath you as you straddle his wait, hands planted on his chest as you gaze down at him. 
“And…what would your fantasies be?”
Gale pauses for a moment, unsure. But you lean down to press a quick kiss to his cheek, before pulling back, a smirk on your lips.
“Come, my love,” you tease. “How about I guess, hm?”
Gale lets out a soft groan at your repeat of his earlier jest, and you can’t help but laugh as his hands come up to settle on your hips. You lean down to kiss him properly this time and can’t stop the excitement pooling in your belly once more. 
The night is still young, and you have a feeling that there is much more to discover.
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