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#can’t be assed to make it flow more nicely though
aegagrusscholarship · 2 years
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2bscug, send tweet
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calisturniolo · 4 days
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☆ COKE AND VODKA
summary. . . while at one of chris’ frat parties, he takes a shot of vodka and a line of cocaine off of your body as he is head-to-head with his frat friend at who can do it quicker off their girlfriends
pairing. . . frat boy!chris x fem reader
warnings. . . cocaine, drug use, alcohol
a/n. . . this is ass but i really want to post more
chris walks over to you, a cola and vodka in one hand, a small plastic bag in the other.
“hey baby, i gotta ask you a quick favour and you can’t say no” chris says as his one of his frat bros stands next to him, watching you and chris.
“what’s up?” you ask, quirking your eyebrow slightly, a little scared for what he’s going to ask you to do. you can feel his friend staring at you, making you feel slightly uncomfortable.
he smiles, knowing you aren’t going to like this answer one bit, “i need you to do a challenge with me” chris answers. his friend pulling out his phone to time chris and you can tell it’s going to be something really stupid.
you dart your tongue out to swipe over your glossy lips, “what’s the challenge though, chris?” you question.
“take a line of coke and a body shot off you.” chris says, his arm wrapping around your waist pulling you closer before before friend interrupts.
“and the loser has to give the other $100” he chuckles. chris’ grip tightens on your hip.
“seriously? so you’re taking coke and a body shot off my body?” you ask, looking between the two boys who are looking at you.
chris’ friend nods and chuckles, “yep. you got a problem with that?” he laughs, looking you up and down. chris’ eyes narrow slightly at his friends comment.
you were taken aback by his reply slightly, “um, no i don’t. just an odd request. but what do i get out of it?” you ask, licking your lips again before taking a sip of the vodka coke in your red solo cup.
chris smirks, knowing you’re always looking for something to be in it for you.
“fine, uh…” he thinks for a moment. he suddenly lights up, having an idea at what he could give you for a prize, “if i win, you won’t complain for a week about my habits. drugs, gambling, parties, everything.”
you mentally groan at this, “and if you lose, chris?” you wonder.
chris looks at you, narrowing his eyes slightly before glancing back at his friend, “if i lose” he says looking back to you, “i’ll take you out on a romantic date, wherever you want to go.” he laughs slightly, waiting for you to agree.
that sounded really nice since you and chris rarely went on dates, so you gave in, “fine. i’ll do it”
chris grins and walks you to the sofa and you sit down on the soft sofa. his friend pulls out his phone to time chris, as chris lifts your skirt a little higher to place the coke on your upper thigh.
“stop moving, sweetheart” chris says as he puts his cold hand on your inner thigh to stop you from moving about as he tries to set out a line on your skin.
he then picks up the clear shot glass, pouring vodka into it and placing it in your shirt, between your tits.
chris stands up and takes a step back to admire his work, his eyes slowly trailing your body before smirking, “perfect, hold still” he says, looking over at his frat friend with a cocky look on his face to make sure he’s timing him.
“okay, get on with it” you sass, wanting to get back to your friends and finish partying.
chris looks back at you with a smirk on his face, “someone’s impatient” he chuckles slightly, watching as his gets closer to you two. chris lowers his head and slowly brings it down to your thigh, placing one hand on your hip and the other on the side of your thigh.
he plugs one side of his nose as he snorts the white powder off your leg.
once he takes a deep breath, feeling the drug flow through his body. he leans up to your chest and moves your top down slightly, enough to give him space to wrap his lips around the plastic glass.
chris slowly brings his lips to the shot glass and wraps his lips around it, once he has enough grip on it he tilts his head back, letting the liquid fall down his throat.
once the glass is empty he lets the glass fall from his mouth, he looks down to you and notices some of the vodka spilled down your stomach, causing him to bite his lip.
he smirks at you, leaning forward and placing a kiss to your lips before turning back to his friend behind him “i done that in under 15 seconds” he says.
chris’ friend checks his phone and nods, “13 seconds, you won” he says, putting his phone back in his pocket, before grabbing his wallet.
“how long did it take you to do it off your girl?” chris asks, referring back to ten minutes ago when his friend took a line and a shot of his girlfriend the exact same way he did off you, “17 seconds” his friend replies, handing his a $100 dollar bill.
“im going to go get a drink” you say standing up getting ready to leave chris and his friend alone.
chris grabs onto your hip, spinning you around before you walk away and pulling you into a kiss.
you let your hand lean over his shoulder as you deepen the kiss. chris brings his hand up with the $100 bill in it and reaches down into your bra and stuffs the bill in there before disconnecting your lips, “that’s for you to buy drinks, love” he says, patting your ass before leaving one more kiss to your lips, “i love you” he whispers in your ear, grinning.
“i love you too” you smirk at him before walking over to your group of friends.
@calisturniolo
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theprettynosferatu · 29 days
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CW: Non-consensual, Intox (aphrodisiac), Mind breaking.
Two years. Two fucking years of work down the drain. The worst two years of her life, working towards a goal she knows she’ll never see, and all because someone up the chain of command got bribed or threatened or who knows what else. What matters is someone fucking sold her out and now she’s bound up, staring at the gang of absolute sadistic freaks she has pushed herself so hard to infiltrate. 
Shit, the things she has done to be accepted as one of them! Well, “one of them” is stretching it. More like a trusted groupie, she figures. The amount of “slutty, fiery latina” acting she has been forced to do almost makes her throw up. It’s a stereotype and a racist one at that but damn it if these dumb motherfuckers raised by porn didn’t appreciate it, in a sick way. And all of it for a goddamn rumor.
They have this new shit, this kinda spray thing, makes any girl wanna fuck you like crazy… True Love, they call it.
Yeah, right. But still, the chance that such a drug could exist and flow through the streets, paired with some rather bizarre incidents of victims fighting to remain by their captor’s side… it was enough to try and get someone on the inside. And she’s ambitious, young, and most importantly, with the proper… attributes to play the gang-doll. Even now she almost wants to chuckle at the memory of the chief trying to explain that part, fighting so hard not to mention her ass. She’s not dumb. Wasn’t then, isn’t now. Without what she, modesty aside, considers the most spectacular ass in the city, the gang would have never even taken a second look at her. And she wouldn’t be here, now, tied up. 
Fuck. She realizes her mind is rambling, going on tangents, trying to escape the simple reality of the situation. She can’t move, and seven men are looking at her like she’s dessert, discussing exactly what to do to her. 
“Maybe we should use it, you know” one says.
She thinks she’s “it”, for a moment. She realizes she’s wrong as Karl, who has more muscles than brain cells and yet for some reason always calls the shots, removes one of the floorboards. Fuck! She has been in this warehouse dozens of times, looked everyone for evidence of the supposed magic drug, and has always come up snake-eyes. And it’s right fucking there, under the goddamn floor. What the fuck is it, the 1950’s? She’s tried every phone, installed keyloggers on laptops, learned every password- in her head, there had to be some clever operation at work, some devious method to keep such a huge deal secret. Nope. It’s under the fucking floor. She wants to tell them to untie her, just so she can kick her own ass. 
They laugh as they get naked, and a wave of shame crashes over her. She realizes she has seen all of these bodies before, and it makes her sick to her stomach. Sure, men get talkative when bragging and trying to get someone into bed. And men lower their guards after they bust a load- that is, if they don’t just roll over and fall asleep instantly. She has used that, over and over, to get information, to get chances to snoop.
Did she have to, though? That question has haunted her, and now it seems to grow solid, like a rock in her chest. Did she truly have to play up all those stereotypes to become some fucked up fantasy of whatever a hot latina is supposed to be? Did she have to buy all those booty shorts, those cheap jewels, those slutty heels? 
And didn’t a part of her enjoy the attention?
Fuck. Chances are she’ll die here, and she doesn’t want to die a delusional bitch. Yes, fine, being the center of attention felt nice. But the sex? No. That was awful. Pretending to be attracted to these meatheads, doing anything they wanted just so her reputation as a grade-A piece of ass would spread, faking orgasms…
Bull and shit. You’re dying here, Mariana. Stop lying to yourself. You didn’t fake all of them.
She’s yanked away from her little spiral of shame by the loud hiss of spray being applied. They’re passing a little can around, coating their cocks with… 
No. It can’t be real. It just can’t. There is no magic spray. It can’t possibly work. Sure, these idiots might think it does, but in reality, no, True Love isn’t a thing.
The images flow into one another like photographs. She knows, rationally, what is happening. A knife is cutting her bindings as two sets of hands are holding her arms. Her shorts are being sliced, ripped off her. Her legs are being held wide open for Meathead Karl. She files these things in her mind, and feels nothing. She’s there, but she’s not really there. Ah, yes. Dissociation as a defense mechanism for trauma. Mariana has read about it, and now feels mildly fascinated by the experience. 
The pain drags her back to reality. Her instincts kick in, and she braces for the suffering that is to come after that initial opening salvo. She grits her teeth, and…
The pain doesn’t come. She hears laughter as her eyes grow wide, a horrible realization dawning on her. The feeling between her legs is a warm thing, a pleasant thing, slithering up her body, unlike anything she has ever felt before. 
“Starting to hit you, Officer? Oh, this is just beginning”, someone says, his voice coming to her as if from a million miles away. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It’s real. Fucking True Love is real. Her mind reels, the interviews with previous victims rushing in her memories. The way they spoke about their abusers as if they were Gods. The way they defended them. The way they longed for them, like junkies going into withdrawal. She can’t become like them. She can’t lose herself like that. She can’t…
She can’t focus. Her mind is getting fuzzy as the delicious sensation reaches her nipples. Every inch of her skin feels sensitive, overwhelming. A pussy. My whole body is one giant pussy. She has no idea where the thought comes from, but it grows inside her as she squirms and little moans escape her lips. No. Don’t give them the satisfaction. Don’t moan. Don’t move.
“Oh, now you’re getting it. Don’t worry. It will get much, much worse”
Whose voice speaks? She can’t tell. She finds it harder and harder to care. Suddenly, her body betrays her as her hips start moving on their own, seeking pleasure, trying to coax the cock inside her deeper…
She feels on fire. She hates herself, hates how good every thrust feels, how much she needs more and more and more. Thoughts flood her, like a strange invasion taking over her mind. Cock. Cock feels good. Cock feels so fucking good. This is good. This is perfect. This is exactly what I should do. This is all I want. This is all I have ever wanted. Her mission starts to fade away. She can barely recall why she ended up being fucked like a good girl by this marvelous cock, and it feels so unimportant, so insignificant. Only the pleasure matters. She needs more. Her eyes cast around her. Cocks. Big, hard cocks, stiff for her. She starts drooling. The men laugh. She doesn’t care. There are hard cocks near her. Why aren’t they using her?
No. Snap back, Mariana. This isn’t you.
Why not?
Isn’t this better than whatever she was before?
One of the men lowered his body, his cock inches away from her face. She needs to taste it. She needs to wrap her tongue around it. She needs to worship it, body and soul.
“Oh, poor slut wants it?”
She’s not sure she understands the words. But she does understand, with a frenzied animal cunning, the desire behind them. They want her to beg. Some distant remain of sanity is pleading with her not to give in, not to surrender her voice, to keep some small part of her true self. It screams in vain.
“Please… give… cock…” she manages to mumble between moans.
“No. Not yet. You see, officer, your mind might be going, but your body is learning very fast. It’s so open now… And we intend to keep you around for a long time. No quick sell for you. So we need to… train you a bit”
Mariana knows the man is talking. The words don’t reach her until he starts playing with her nipples, and a single word takes over her entire existence.
“Cum”
She shakes. She screams. Her entire body is reduced to a single, shining sensation of absolute pleasure. She can feel something inside her breaking, giving in. She pants and a part of her expects the sensations to subside, but they don’t. If anything, the constant pleasure grows, leaving her right at the gates of another orgasm. She tries to grind, to move, to use the cock inside her to cum again…
“Not without permission, toy”, someone says. She almost manages to squeak out a complaint, but the stimulus is too strong. All she can do is squeal and moan.
The world swirls around her, colors heightened, bleeding into each other. She never wants to go back to the gray, solid, difficult past. She wants to stay here, be this- be pleasure.
“Cum”
Yes. She cums, and nothing else matters. This is all she needs. All she exists for. Her eyes are unfocused, her mouth hanging open. She feels the cock touch her lips before she even consciously sees it. The imperative is immediate. Suck. Lick. Take it deep in your throat. Use your tongue, pressure with your lips, the vibrations of your moaning. Use everything you are to please cock. 
“Cum”
Every time it gets stronger, going beyond whatever she ever thought possible. No mind can hope to withstand such a tidal wave of pleasure. As soon as she realizes they’re starting to move her, she hops up. The men don’t have to tell her what they want from her. She wants the same thing. She’s just holes. Holes need to be filled with cock. She impales herself on Karl’s dick and leans forward, letting him suck on her sensitive nipples, leaving her asshole ready, eager. She’s presenting herself like an animal in heat, and she’s loving every second of it. She’ll do anything to keep feeling like this, forever.
“Ass…” she manages to say.
“Not good enough, cunt. Come on, you can use your words better than that”
Words. Words for cock. Words to make cock happy. They own her words. They own her mind. They own her body.
“Please… use my ass… fuck my tight little hole… ram it hard! Wreck it! I need it so bad, need it so bad, need you to take me, take my ass, make me cum, never let me go, please please please…”
Even the pain feels good. Everything feels good. Humiliation feels good. Their mockery feels good. Their spit on her skin feels good. Obeying feels good.
One cock in her ass, using it with no care for her or any pain it might cause. One in her wet cunt, driving her mad. One in her mouth, using her like a breathing fleshlight. One in each hand, the promise of cum to come. This is it. This is bliss. This is heaven. This is all any woman could ever desire. This is home. 
“Such a good fucktoy…”, one mutters, trying to hold back his own orgasm.
The word infects her. Fucktoy. It starts overwriting everything inside her. Fucktoy. Her police training crumbles in her memory. Fucktoy. Her memories of her family fade away, forever. Fucktoy. Her hatred for cruel men vanishes. Fucktoy. Fucktoy. Fucktoy. It is all she is. All she has ever been. All she ever wanted to be. She’s mumbling it in between taking cock in her mouth. It rises like a gigantic obelisk in her mind, ruling over her, conquering all.
Fucktoy.
“Cum. Cum. Cum.”
Wave after wave of pleasure overtake her, crashing into each other, blasting away all that was and all that could ever be.
By the time she gets back something resembling consciousness, warm cum is coating her skin. She can feel the wonderful jizz inside her holes, taste it on her tongue still. She must have swallowed it. Like a good fucktoy. She feels so proud, so valuable, so beautiful. She made cocks cum. She was good. She was useful.
“Officer, remind me… what were you looking for?”
She looks at the man like a confused puppy.
“Cock?”
“I see. And what’s your name?”
She straightens up, full of pride. This one she knows.
“Fucktoy!”, she smiles.
Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work and get access to the full library at patreon.com/prettynosferatu
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storiesofsvu · 5 months
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Aaron Hotchner x reader warnings: language, smut, minor daddy kink, lots of praise.
Coming home from work had always been a form of relief for Aaron, knowing that his day was done, and he was able to relax at least a little bit before doing it all again tomorrow. But this Friday was different, this Friday not only was it a guarantee that he had two days off, he also wasn’t coming home to an empty apartment. Moving in together had been a very easy decision, he no longer had to worry about making a stop at his place before yours, didn’t have to triple check his go bag was always packed and he got to come home to you already in your shared space, happy as can be.
Almost every night this week he had come home to find you in the midst of an IKEA challenge or putting up some nice decorations. Which is exactly where he found you tonight, standing on a chair on your tip toes pinning up fairy lights over the patio window with your favourite playlist flowing through the room. As he put his things down, stepping out of his shoes and hanging up his blazer a smirk took over his lips at the actual sight in front of him. You’d clearly showered recently and chosen to tug on one of his oversized tee shirts instead of actually getting dressed and it appeared the shirt was all you’d bothered with. Your arms outstretched over your head caused the fabric to rise up, the curve of your ass poking out from beneath it as you secured another pin.
Aaron undid his tie, tossing it to the island as he started to undo his shirt, rolling up the sleeves while he crossed the room. Reaching out his hands slid over the curve of your ass before settling on your hips and he chuckled at the way you jumped, turning around when you felt him press a kiss to the small of your back. You were perched on the highest tips of your toes attempting to continue the chain of lights without toppling off the chair.
“You want some help with that?” He smiled softly and you let out a huff of a laugh.
“I didn’t even hear you come in.”
“Looks like you were pretty focused.” He nodded toward the lights, and you laughed again.
“I guess. And yeah, I can’t seem to reach it.”
With one clean swoop Aaron picked you up from the chair, resulting in a squeal escaping your lips before he set you on the ground and placed a kiss to the top of your head. You watched with a smile as he effortlessly stepped up onto the chair and was able to reach the spots you never would have been able to.
“That even?”
“Looks perfect.” You smiled as he stepped down from the chair, your hands coming to cup his cheeks so you could press a kiss to his lips, “thank you.”
“Anything else?”
“Nope.” You shook your head, taking the chain of lights back from him, “it was just the part above the window I was struggling with. Go grab a drink, relax.” You squeezed as his hand, shifting the chair to the left before you climbed back up on it and he was left to wander down the hallway.
Doing as you suggested he got comfortable, changing into a tee and sweats, tossing his work clothes into the hamper and padding back down to the kitchen barefoot to find you humming along to the music as you continued your task. He found a pack of his favourite beer in the fridge, cracking one for himself and grabbing one for you, placing it on the bookshelf you were beside before he dropped into the couch with a satisfied sigh.
The two of you caught up briefly, talked each other through your day while he scrolled through his phone, though his attention mainly remained on you. Since plugging in the string of lights the room and thus you, were bathed in a nearly angelic glow as you continued to work. Every time you moved the shirt simply dared to show more skin and he knew you could feel his eyes on you by the way you kept shifting, the little glances you’d toss over your shoulder to him with an almost shy grin, your cheeks heating. At one point you bent over to grab another hook from the bookshelf and he felt his cock twitch in his pants at the sight of your pussy fully exposed to him.
“Careful…” He warned, a playful tone in his voice and you glanced over your shoulder with a quizzical look on your face.
“I know how to use a hammer.” You replied with a laugh, gesturing to all your previous work and he chuckled, taking another sip of his drink before he stood up to cross the room.
“I know…” he murmured, his hands ghosting up your thighs and your breath caught in your throat. One of his hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer to him while the other travelled up your back, tangling in the roots of your hair, “but I do hope if someone else was to be helping you with this you would at least put some panties on.”
“Aaron…” you giggled, swatting at the hand on your hip. “I had actual clothes on when the guy came to install the dryer.”
“Oh so it’s just me you like to tease?” He smirked, his hand leaving your hair so both of them could trace patterns on the back of your thighs.
“Obviously.” You let out a sigh, your eyes beginning to flutter at the way he massaged your skin, hands creeping up higher under the hem of the shirt, just daring to brush your pussy.
“I think the rest of this can wait.” A steady arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you from the chair once again and he yanked you flush to him, the bulge in his pants apparent against your ass, “now you know just how wild you drive me.”
“Mmhmm….” You nodded, your body relaxing against him, your lips falling open as he started to grope your chest through the thin fabric, pinching your nipples until they were hardened and you were grinding back into him.
“Open your mouth.” His hand softly squeezed around your throat before gliding up and two of his fingers sunk in between your lips.
You sucked the digits deeper into your mouth, tongue swirling around them, coating them with saliva as he slowly thrust them in and out of your lips. With his other hand steady on your hip he backed the two of you up to the center of the living room where the nest of pillows and blankets was still tousled on the ground from your movie night the previous evening.
Aaron’s fingers slipped out of your mouth and you let out a whine in protest, one that he chuckled at as he pulled his shirt off over his head. His hands found the hem of your stolen shirt, tugging it up and off, dropping it to the floor.
“Relax honey.” His dry hand caressed at your cheek, “there’s no chance I’m done with you yet.” He pulled you to him, kissing you deeply, tongue surging into your mouth and you let out a soft moan into the kiss.
The fingers coated in your spit snuck between your bodies, lazily rubbing at your clit while the other one started to toy with your chest. Cupping the flesh, pulling louder moans from you when he started to pinch at your nipples, flicking at them as they hardened in the cool air. His arm wound around you, hoisting you up just enough that your weight was on him as he squatted and gently dropped onto the pile of blankets and cushions before he lay you down on them. His lips broke free from yours and he left a pathway of kisses down your neck, nipping ever so lightly, pulling a breathy sigh from you.
“Aaron…” you whined, “don’t tease.”
“Never would sweetheart.”
His hands smoothed up your thighs, spreading your legs for him before his fingers found your pussy again. They slid through your folds, coaxing out your wetness, smearing it around your pussy, circling around your clit until your chest was heaving and you were nearly panting. His thumbs slid up your pussy, spreading your lips apart and he could see it fully glistening in the low light.
“Such a gorgeous pussy honey.” He cooed, “and who does this pussy belong to?”
“You daddy.”
“Smart girl too.” He smiled softly down at you watching the way your eyes fell shut when he slid two of his fingers into your cunt. “So wet already… have you been thinking about this all day?” He asked, pumping his fingers in and out of you, “waiting for me to come home and find you indecent? Just so I’d fuck you?”
“Yes…” you breathed back, your hand reaching out in search of his free one, fingers interlacing when you found it, his thumb softly stroking over your knuckles. “Wanted to be all ready for you, surprise you.” You were already finding it hard to focus on your words, your pussy fluttering around his fingers as they stretched you out.
“You’re so good for me sweetheart. So thoughtful.” His fingers curled inside you and your breath hitched in your throat, “making sure I have something so gorgeous to come home to… something so sweet.”
With that he shifted onto his stomach, his tongue lapping up the juices around your opening while his fingers continued to twist and scissor inside you. He couldn’t help but groan over your taste, cock twitching in his pants as he shifted up and his mouth latched around your clit.
“Fuck!” You gasped, your hands threading into his hair, holding his face between your legs and you could practically feel the smirk on his lips as electricity sparked through you.
Aaron’s tongue varied between tracing patterns on your pulsing nub and flicking it with the tip, your fingers scraping at his scalp as the pleasure built higher and higher. He picked up the pressure right as his hand picked up the pace, fucking faster into you.
“Oh Aaron…”
Not wanting to let up he merely grunted against you before humming and the vibrations had you gasping, your pussy pulsating around his fingers.
“M’gonna—” You whimpered, feeling the heat about to burst through your veins and his head nodded, rubbing right where you needed it as his fingers curled up, pressing hard on your g-spot and you cried out, “fuck!” Your hips jolted up off the blankets, thighs shaking around him as he gently fingered you through your orgasm.
“That’s it honey…” he cooed, “so fucking pretty for me. Such pretty fucking sounds.”
Your body still trembled, little whimpers and gasps leaving your lips that were heaven to his ears as the aftershocks crashed through you. You were always so gorgeous when you came for him, splayed out on display, legs spread, pussy dripping all because of him, tits swaying as your chest heaved, body coated in a shimmering of sweat, that blissed out look of pure pleasure and desire in your darkened eyes.
He slipped his fingers from you, bringing them up to his lips and he caught the way you tugged your lower lip into your mouth, a greedy look in your eyes as you watched him suck them clean. He nearly made a show of it, groaning before letting them pop from his mouth.
“So fucking sweet.” He praised, “almost wonder what I should do with you next.” He smirked at the way you instantly pouted, letting out a soft whine, “what sweetheart?”
“Need you.”
“Yeah…” his hand came back between your legs, palming at your puffy cunt, “need what? My fingers again?” One slipped in, but only for one thrust, “my mouth? Or something else?”
“Your cock daddy, please!”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Aaron grinned down at you as he shucked his sweatpants off, positioning himself between your legs. His hand wrapped around his cock, thumb smearing the pre-cum around it as he let out a soft groan, “fuck… you always get me so hard.” He thrust his cock through your folds, coating it with your juices, “you feel that honey?”
“Yes…” you whined, your hips rocking towards the touch, “please…”
“Please what?” He raised a brow in your direction as he continued his movement and you whimpered.
“Please fuck me!”
“Good girl.” He leant over you, pressing a kiss to your needy lips as he lined up his hips and his cock sunk into your warmth. You both let out satisfied moans at the sensation, his cock slipping all the way into you until his hips were seated against yours and he could feel your cunt clenching around him already. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“Move.. please.” You whined, your arms wrapping around him, nails digging into his back as you pulled him to him.
Aaron kissed the side of your neck gently before pulling back until only the tip was left and he plunged back into you, earning a gasp from you at just how deep he was. Your legs eagerly wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper into you and he made a home in the crook of your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he started to pant. He set a steady pace, just fast enough to have you shivering and whimpering in his arms but still slow enough to savour it, to make sure you were feeling every inch and every drag of his cock deep in your pussy, to get it wetter with each thrust of his hips.
From the angle he was fucking you, each movement of his body brushed against your clit, the double sensation having you seeing stars already, pleasure tingling under your skin. One of your hands threaded through his hair again, holding him impossibly close as he continued to thrust into you. You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, the movement getting larger anytime you let out a particularly loud whine. He loved the way you clenched around him, the sounds you made, knowing he was the one who was making you make them, that he was the only one who could pull sounds like them from you. Each thrust of his hips he could feel the wetness where your bodies met getting larger, the slick around his cock growing, the sounds getting more indecent with every pump.
“Oh god Aaron!” Your nails started to claw at his back, “s-so gg-ood.”
“Always take me so well.” He grunted back, his hips beginning to snap harder and faster into yours, earning a breathy gasp from you as you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist.
Your pussy was dripping, the squelching noises coming from it echoing through the living room and every time Aaron drove his cock deeper into it you felt new sensations, your entire body tingling, starting to shake with pleasure. The coil was building deep inside you, higher and hotter with each thrust and your eyes scrunched shut, a string of whimpering swears leaving your lips. Aaron groaned loudly into your ear at the feeling of your pussy pulsing around him before his mouth latched onto your neck, teeth sinking in before his tongue lapped over the spot to soothe the burn and his lips began to suck at your sensitive skin.
“Fuck!” You cried out as the trembling in your body blew into a full blown spasm and you hit your peak, pussy clenching down even harder around Aaron as he grunted, his hips stuttering as he fucked you through your orgasm.
“God sweetheart.” He muttered, kissing your neck before sitting up on his haunches to chase his own release. He picked up the pace, thrusting deeper and faster into you and with just how fucking drenched your cunt was it wasn’t long before he was groaning loudly, his cum spilling into your pussy and he dropped over you again. “Fuck…”
Your finger tips gently tickled up and down his back, your other hand coming to his head, scratching at his scalp as he panted above you and you finally managed to catch your breath. You pressed a tender kiss to the side of his head, letting out a very satisfied hum and in return he let out a breathless huff, leaving a kiss on your collarbone. He pulled his head up, his hand coming to caress the side of your cheek as he left a featherlight kiss on your lips and you smiled up at him.
“You okay?” He murmured.
“Perfect.” You replied, stealing another kiss before he gently rolled off you.
Aaron adjusted a few of the cushions and blankets so you would both be comfortable, pulling a blanket over the two of you as you instinctively curled into his side, resting on his chest. His arm wound around you and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, a small smile on his cheeks as he admired the decorating you’d been doing. The soft light cascading perfectly over the living room for a moment like this.
“You certainly know a thing or two about welcoming a guy home.” He teased and you laughed.
“Figured I could start off strong with what I know you love.” You shifted so you could see his face and he chuckled.
“Well what I love is you, doesn’t matter what form it comes in as long as I get to come home to you every day.”
“You’re a sap, you know that right?”
“Absolutely not.” He grinned back and you playfully rolled your eyes before leaning up to kiss him softly.
“I love you too.”
_______________________
@svushots @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @emobabeyy @daddy-heather-dunbar @mrs-ssa-hotch @hotchandspencearedilfs @mina2000alex @telepathay @darlingsfandom @ssamorganhotchner @hotchsdoormat @hopedoesntknow @thehauntingofbasingse @plaidbooks @niyizh @tommyriddleobsessed @supercriminalbean @hotchs-bitch @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @emlynblack @ivyflowers13 @ratsnestinmyhair @silversprings-mp3 @ssaaaronhotchnerr @speedynana @tgskitten @madamsnape921 @aaronandemilysbitch @mrs-ssa-hotch @boimlers-gonna-boim @nachofriess @khxna @tinyprettyangel @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @acctualdeemon
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muwapsturniolo · 5 months
Text
✯𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐃𝐢𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠✯
IN WHICH...Y/N meets a biker who gives her the best night of her life, and manages to turn her world upside down.
WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!! drinking, public fondling, dom!Matt/asshole!Matt, spanking, choking, knife play, unprotected sex, slight predatorxprey concept, dumbification,, stomach buldging. If I forgot anything please let me know!!!
this is a long one so sorry not sorry <3
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“I’m f-r-e-e fuck nigga free!”
My friends and I shout the lyrics to Glorilla's song at the top of our lungs as we fly down the street.
It was one of those nights where you feel like a teenager again, staying out late and sneaking out to go to parties to do lord knows what with your friends.
It was different in my case.
I was grown, 22 to be exact. I didn’t have to sneak out, I could walk out the door and not have to tell anyone where I was going.
“And I’m s- i- n -g- l- e again, outside hanging out the window with my ratchet ass friends!” Buddy stops at a light and I jump out of the car, immediately throwing it back. My girls scream and start recording me, making me act up even more.
We haven’t been out in a long time due to adulting. You know how it is, one of you is free while the other three have other things to do, and then you have to schedule two months out, only for someone else to cancel. it's the rare occurrence where our schedules finally sync up, and we decided to make the most of it, acting out like we have no type of decorum.
“At the red lights twerking on them headlights!”
I hop on the hood of the car and grind down.
“Bitch get in the car!” Buddy shouts while still recording me, her laughter louder than the music.
Suddenly the sound of revving engines makes all of us turn. A group of guys on bikes pull up next to us, clapping and revving their engines in encouragement. One of them takes off their helmet and puts it between his legs, licking his lips before smiling.
“You trynna ride sweetheart?”
I look back at my girls and they are vigorously nodding yes. I climb off the car and skip over to him, “ride what exactly?” He smirks and looks me up and down, “I was talking about my bike, but I could make the other situation happen too.” His answer makes me heat up, although it could be the three shots of Casamigos in my system.
He’s attractive, it wouldn’t hurt to have fun.
Live fast die young, right?
I say nothing as I walk around the bike and swing my leg over, pressing up against him as I wrap my arms around his torso. “You know how to ride?” I ask, taking the helmet from him.
“I’m in the front for a reason.” I can’t see his face but I can hear the smirk. “Bitch where are we going?” Buddy screams from the car. “Trail us! We’re gonna show you girls a good time!” One of the other guys shouts.
It seems like the light follows his words, switching from red to green instantly. The engines rev and soon we are flying down the streets of LA. He pops a wheelie making me scream in excitement and tighten my grip around him. The wind whips past us, the inches on my head flowing behind me.
I look to the side and see Buddy easily following along in her car, music still bumping loudly, filling up the abandoned streets.
It doesn’t take long until he slows down and pulls into a lot. The lot is filled with a bunch of bodies, bikes, and cars. People begin to hoot and holler seeing us pull in.
He parks his bike and climbs off before aiding me in doing the same. “What’s your name pretty girl?” He begins to help me take off the helmet.
“Y/n. You?”
“Matthew, but you can call me Matt.” He lightly squeezes my hip as he looks down at me. He's attractive, nice jawline, a beard, and tattoos going up and down his arm as well as his neck. His piercings fit his features perfectly. I usually wouldn’t go for the punk-looking dudes, it was something about him though.
“Well, thank you for the ride, Matt. You’re a great driver.”
“You’re a great rider, what else can you ride?” He shoots me a look, making me smack my lips and lightly push him. “Boy bye.” He laughs and keeps his grip on me.
“So what is this?” I ask looking around in curiosity. He lets go of me and begins to take his gloves off, “it’s a meet. A bunch of people round up and show off their bikes or cars. We do them every Friday.” I hum and continue to look around. I see my friends by the trunk of our car, sharing our bottle with the new people around us.
“So tell me something, you often get out of cars and shake your ass?”
“You often offer girls a ride?” I shoot back.
“Only the pretty ones.” He winks before grabbing my waist and pulling me towards him. “You’re staying with me for the night.” I quirk a brow at his statement.
“Am I?”
“Yeah, problem?” He seems secure in his words, like he’s daring me to tell him there is a problem.
“No”
“That’s what I thought. Let’s get your pretty ass to your friends.” He takes the lead, guiding me to clean white jeep.
“Girl I thought you were going to fall off when he popped that wheelie!” Lani exclaims. “The way I screamed when I saw that shit!” Mika adds. “I really thought your lashes were going to fly off.” Buddy finishes. I giggle at their over-exaggerated statements. Soon a drink is shoved into my hands, “drink up bitch!”
The night ensued, everyone having a good time. I mingled with a few people, attempting to learn about their bikes and cars. Everything honestly went in one ear and out the other. Matt kept me close, my back pressed to his front, both of his hands resting right on my hips. If it was any other guy, I would have been annoyed and pushed them away, but I’m not. My girls keep eyeing me, mouthing a “You ok?” occasionally. I respond back with a smile and a sip of my drink.
"You wanna get out of here?" His breath tickles my ear as he talks to me. I smirk and take another sip of my drink before turning around, "and go where?"
He gives me a look, "somewhere private." I feel his hands travel from my waist down to my ass, gripping the exposed flesh tightly. He softly kisses my neck, biting occasionally. I sigh out in relief, craning my neck as his beard tickles me.
"Come on sweetheart, you know you want to." He whispers in her ear before pulling away and giving her a look. She bites her lip and looks back at her friends before turning back to Matt. "let me tell my friends." He nods and watches as she scampers off towards the group of girls. She's soon skipping back with a wide mischievous smile on her face.
"Let's go."
Matt puts the helmet on her head and helps her onto the bike before climbing on himself. He starts the bike, revving the engine before pulling off.
Matt's going over the speed limit, pushing the gas to the max so he can get the girl behind him in his bed. Y/n holds on to him tightly, only loosening her grip when they arrive at a red light.
She's not sure how long it's going to take for them to arrive at their destination, so she decides to have some fun. She rests her hands on his thighs, rubbing them softly and allowing her nails to draw random shapes. Matt doesn't think anything of it, taking it as her relaxing at the light.
She slowly inches her right hand toward his crotch, palming him through the rough material. She bites her lip and smirks feeling him tense, noticing the way his hands grip the handlebars tightly. She decides to take it a step further and snakes her hand into his pants, wrapping her hand around the base and slowly jerking.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll stop." His threat is oddly calm, his voice not rising in any way. She takes the threats with a grain of salt, rubbing her thumb over his tip.
"Fuck this-" he mumbles to himself. He releases the brake and speeds off, ignoring the flashing of the red light camera.
Y/n gasps and snatches her hand out of his pants, going back to holding him tightly.
After ten minutes of running multiple red lights and speeding, the two arrive at a house, the garage opening as Matt presses a button on the bike.
The bike inches forward before Matt turns it off and kicks down the stand.
They climb off the bike and Matt aids her in taking off the helmet, dropping it to the floor. He's quick to yank her forward by her throat.
"You think you're funny touching me like that?"
"I think I'm hilarious ac-" A whimper of pain and pleasure tumbles from her mouth as Matt smacks her ass. She looks up at him with wide glossy eyes filled with lust, Matt returns the look, a devious smirk coating his face.
"Take your shorts off."
Just like before his voice held no room for defiance, it was a demand that she had to follow,
So she does just that.
She continues to stare at him as she unfastens her belt, dropping it to the cement floor of the garage. She unbuttons the acid wash denim and shimmies out of them, standing in front of Matt with nothing but a bright blue thong on her bottom half.
He quickly turns her around and bends her over the bike, knocking her legs apart. He runs his ring-clad hand over her ass, enjoying the way the soft skin feels.
He doesn't think twice before spanking her, enjoying the choked moan that falls from her mouth. He enjoys it so much that he does it over,
and over
and over.
25 smacks later, she's sniffling and clenching her legs shut, her wetness causing a tingle in between her folds. Matt stands behind her, admiring the number he did on her ass. The soft brown skin was forming purple and blue bruises, ring indentations clear as day. He allows his eyes to trail to the blue material being swallowed by her ass, noticing the change of color.
He pulls the thong to the side, watching as a thin string of her slick attaches itself to the lace material. He puts his index and middle finger together before gliding them through her folds, moving her slick around. Y/n whines softly, pushing herself back in an attempt to chase his fingers.
"Tsk tsk tsk, so eager." He shakes his head as he clicks his tongue, eyes still trained on her wet cunt. Suddenly Y/n is yanked upward by her hair, her body now flushed with Matts. He turns her head and brings her into a heated kiss, their tongues meshing together.
She hears a 'shink' and chooses to ignore it, thinking it was something in the garage. However, she was proven wrong when she felt something sharp and cold against her collarbone.
She freezes as Matt smirks against her lips, pulling away slowly. She looks down and her heart begins to race seeing the pocket knife. He slowly begins to drag the sharp object downward, ripping her shirt in the process. She gulps watching the fabric fall to the ground, her boobs bouncing as they release.
Her breathing speeds up as he circles her nipple with the knife, pressing it softly against her skin. Goosebumps rise along her body as she sharply inhales.
"You like it, I could see it in your eyes," he whispers as he watches the soft buds harden under the coldness of the knife. He quickly pulls it away and forces her back down onto the bike. He leans over her, one of his hands still wrapped in the blonde hair on her head. She trembles feeling the knife move with the curve of her ass. He chuckles feeling her flinch as he cuts the band of her thong. He catches the material before it falls, and holds it in front of her face.
"Look at that, you ruined them."
Before she could say anything, he shoves the wet material into her mouth. Her face burns in embarrassment as her leftover slick touches her tongue.
He drops to his knees and spreads her cheeks apart, his mouth watering as her lips spread. He wastes no time and dives in, licking and slurping through her folds. Y/n moans as her eyes flutter shut, enjoying the way his soft and warm tongue laps at her juices.
He flattens his tongue and moves it back and forth across her clit, his nose softly pressing against her entrance. "F-fuck Matt!" He pulls away from her, licking at his lips as he pushes two fingers into her.
His fingers stretch her out, providing some form of temporary relief, but it's not enough. "M-more, please I need more!" She begs pathetically.
"My fingers not enough for you sweetheart? You need my dick that bad?" She struggles to speak as he relentlessly pounds his finger into her tight cunt, occasionally curling them.
"No they're enough, you're just a greedy girl aren't you? Well, guess what?-" He adds a third finger into her cunt, not slowing down his handiwork by any means. "You're not getting my dick until you cum on all my fingers. So, I suggest you hurry up if you're that eager."
She whines knowing it's going to take awhile for her to reach any type of orgasm if it's just his fingers.
Matt's not dumb, he knows how to pleasure a woman, so he drops the switchblade and uses his free hand to draw endless figure eights' against her clit.
She throws her head back and lets out a deep moan, her walls squeezing down on his fingers. "That's it sweetheart, come on I know you're close." He moves both of his hands faster making Y/n's legs shake slightly.
His finger hits that special spot inside of her and she lets out a high-pitched moan, her whole body tensing up as she reaches her peak.
She's too busy trying to catch her breath, she doesn't even notice Matt undoing his pants and pulling them down.
Her head suddenly drops as Matt slides into her, knocking the air out of her lungs. He's big, stretching her out perfectly and hitting all the right spots. Matt wastes no time snapping his hips, her body lurching forward with each thrust.
She grips onto the bike, her palms becoming sweaty against the metal. Matt is relishing hearing her wheezes as his cock nudges against that sweet spot, his tip pressing tightly against her cervix in the process.
"Fuck!" she finally manages to shout, her eyes rolling back.
It's almost euphoric the way he's fucking her, almost too euphoric.
She reaches behind and tries to slow him down but it's no use. He grabs her arm and folds it to her back, using it to pull her back and meet his thrusts.
"Already falling apart?" He taunts, a laugh exiting his throat as he continues to thrust.
He watches the way she sucks him in, her walls eagerly clamping down and welcoming him,
like he was made for her
like she was his.
"Whos pussy is this?"
She's so caught up moaning and wheezing around the lace in her mouth, she doesn't hear the question. He slaps her ass making her walls squeeze him even more. He throws his head back, his rhythm breaking as he basks in the feeling.
"Answer the question sweetheart. Who's pussy is this?''
"Ymm-Speak up baby, I can't hear you." He removes her thong from her mouth and snaps his hips harsher than he has before making her squeal, "Yours! Oh fuck it's yours!" She sobs out, not being able to handle her current situation.
"Good girl."
He sneaks his hand down and begins to circle her clit once again.
Her eyes roll back as her whole body begins to shake violently, her second orgasm of the night approaching quickly. "You wanna cum? Hm? You wanna make a mess on me and my bike?"
She moans loudly in response, her body getting weaker from his harsh thrusts and her approaching orgasm.
"Go on, make a mess for me, make a mess all over me."
Her body goes limp as her juices splash all over him and the bike, falling to the concrete floor of the garage.
Matt pulls out of her, pulling her up by her hair. Her legs shake as he drags her over to a free space in the garage. He flips her around and pins her against the wall, the cold concrete aiding in helping the welts on her ass.
he takes a moment to examine her face.
Her makeup was messed up. Her eyeliner and mascara were running and making black tears down her cheeks. Her lashes were beginning to loosen as well, somehow managing to keep some attachment to her lids. Her lipgloss was smudged around her lips as well, some even on her chin.
He presses both his lips and body against hers, gripping her sides harshly. His hands travel to her ass, separating the skin from the wall and hoisting her up, both legs wrapping around his waist.
She throws her arms around his shoulders as he pushes himself into her. She struggles to kiss him back, her moans vibrating against his lips.
His fingers dig into her thighs, leaving crescent-shaped marks on the brown skin. He presses her even harder against the wall and proceeds to position his hips upward, using his as an opportunity to claim her.
He dives in on her neck, working diligently to leave the bruises on her skin. He trails the marks all the way to her collarbone, eventually stopping to admire his work.
His eyes burn bright, his pupils dilated as he watches the marks shine in the dim light, spelling out his name.
His eyes fall onto her breasts that are bouncing with each thrust. He takes one into his mouth, softly biting at her nipple and using his tongue to soothe it. Y/n throws her head back, ignoring the ache that follows when hitting the wall.
"Please! Oh go-shhit!" Matt moans and looks down at their intertwined bodies, watching the way her juices splash on his abdomen.
"That's it baby, let it all go." He coos as her trembling body collapses into him, her grip still tight on his shoulders. She tries to put her legs down but he keeps her locked in place,
"I'm not done with you yet princess."
He opens the garage door and quickly rushes to his room, not struggling one bit as her carries the girl in his arms. He slams his bedroom door and throws her on the bed, her body bouncing on the silk sheets.
He stands over her, watching her body occasionally twitch, her chest rising and falling quickly as she pants in a delirious state. Her cunt glimmers in the light, her wetness pulling him into a trance. He falls to his knees and begins to lap at her cunt once again. She arches her back, going cross-eyed at the overstimulation.
She whines and shakes her head, trying to push his head away. "N-no more." She slurs, her mind hazy from the three orgasms she's had.
He yanks her closer by her thighs, and flattens his tongue, shaking his head back and forth. He circles her clit before sucking on the sensitive bud.
Her manicured fingers find their way to his head, gripping the soft brown locks and yanking. Her mind and body are fighting, her mind telling her to stop him before she passes out, and her body telling her to keep experiencing the rhapsodic moment.
Matt closes his eyes as he breathes in the scent of her juices, lapping at her like a dehydrated dog. He could eat at her for hours, finding her sweeter and more delectable than others. Her moans and withering body fueling his appetite even more. he snakes his other hand down and wraps it around his base, jerking himself off.
He moves back to her clit as he inserts two of his finger, moaning at the way her walls clamp down around them. All it takes is a few pumps and the curling of the digits before she releases over his face.
He swallows everything she gives him, making sure not one drop escapes him.
She manages to weakly push him away, her legs clenching as she heaves.
She didn't think her night would turn out like this.
She knew they were going to have sex, maybe one or two rounds, but she didn't expect four orgasms. She didn't expect him to make her squirt either, she's only ever been able to squirt alone and using a vibrator.
She looks over her knees, watching as Matt rises to his feet, his lips and chin glimmering in her mess. He walks around the bed and that's when the girl notices something.
He's still hard.
He hasn't came once.
That's when it finally hits her, she isn't done until he is.
She doesn't know how much more she can take. She's already had four orgasms, if she has one more she's sure she's going to pass out.
She watches with hazy and glossed eyes as he crawls over her, his eyes zeroed in on her as if she were his prey.
And she was, she was the prey and he was the predator.
he leans closer, his breath fanning over her face.
"You're pretty when you cry."
He rubs his thumb across her cheek, wiping away the mixture of makeup and tears. Suddenly, that same hand is wrapped around her throat. It's not tight, but it's enough to establish dominance.
"You gonna give me one more?" She shakes her head, beginning to cry softly. He shakes his head, shushing her softly, "Nuh uh, none of that baby-" He kisses over her face, his other hand running up and down her side affectionately.
He rests his forehead against hers, his blue eyes dark and predatory.
"You wanna be a good girl for me right? You wanna be a good girl and make me proud?" She whines and looks away from him, not being able to handle his gaze.
"Hey, hey, look at me-there she is, my pretty girl." He smiles seeing her dilated pupils, a clear sign that he did exactly what he planned on doing,
Dumbing her down and making her submit.
"You're gonna be a good girl and ride me, hm?" She nods, not thinking clearly in the slightest. He chuckles and taps her face a bit harder than he should have before he kisses her forehead. He flips them over, his hands finding their way to her waist.
Seeing that her mind is a bit hazy, he aids her in sinking down on him, throwing his head back at the familiar feeling of her walls that he has quickly grown to love.
She begins to rock her hips, throwing her head back and mumbling to herself. "You can do better than that can't you?" Matt taunts as he starts to lift her up and down. She nods absentmindedly and does her best to bounce on his cock, wanting to please him, needing to please him.
Her movements quickly become sloppy and Matt decides to take matters into his own hands. He plants both feet on the bed as he wraps his hand around her throat.
She gasps and lets out a choked sob as he begins to thrust upward, her nails digging into his chest. He watches the way her breasts bounce up and down, the way her jaw goes slack, and how her eyes roll back.
He grabs at her breast, twisting and tweaking her nipple.
His thighs become sore so he flips them over once again, missionary.
He throws her legs over his shoulder and re-wraps his hand around her throat. She lets out screams with each deep thrust he gives her, the bed banging against the wall. He notices the small bludge in her stomach and it drives him further.
He removes her legs from his shoulder and pushes them back to her head, his hips ricocheting off the back of her thighs.
Y/n screams go silent, her eyes rolling back and her jaw-dropping as he reaches deeper than he has the whole night.
"There it is, let go for me sweetheart." She lets out a bloodcurdling scream as she reaches her last orgasm of the night, her juices splashing all over Matt and herself. Matt gives 3 more deep thrusts before he stalls inside of her, painting her abused walls a nice shade of milky white.
Y/n lays there a sweaty panting mess, her eyes hallway closed as she remains limp. He looks down as he pulls out of her, the corner of his lips quirking seeing her flinch. he watches as his own seed spills out of her, falling onto the silk bedding beneath them.
He so badly wants to scoop it up and push it back inside her. he already marked her in more ways than one, it wouldn't hurt to mark her in another,
Right?
He's snapped out of his thoughts by his door swinging open, his brother Chris standing in the doorway looking pissed off. "I should beat your ass for keeping me up."
"Shut the fuck up and go to sleep Chris! We're done now so stop your bitching." Matt rolls his eyes as Chris slams the door. He hears a noise making him look back at Y/n.
She's asleep.
He chuckles knowing he truly pushed her to the limit. He climbs off the bed and rushes to his bathroom, cleaning himself up and slipping on a pair of boxers. He returns with a wet rag and cleans her up, slipping a clean shirt over her body.
He takes the sheets off the bed and throws them in his hamper, deciding to handle it later. He shuts off the lights and climbs into bed, grabbing his phone in the process. He checks his notifications and smirks when he comes across a particular one.
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He mutes their conversation and throws his phone on the nightstand, ending the night with a smile on his face.
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YUHHHHHHHHH!!!!! I DECIDED TO FEED YALL SUM GOOD CUZ I DONT BE POSTING FICS LIKE THAT SO I HOPE YALL ENJOY!!! LEMME KNOW IF YALL WANT A PART TWO!!!
XOXO PEACHES🍑
TAGLIST 🍑
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660 notes · View notes
lizzieisright · 9 months
Text
She looks like fun
dom!reader x sub!Abby
Summary: During the patrol you find a pretty pleated skirt. In Abby's size.
Tags: okay, here we go fingering, oral, strap usage, strap sucking, Abby wears a skirt and a collar for sexy purposes, scene negotiation, safewords (traffic lights), aftercare, Abby and R are switches.
wc: 6.5k (it's a huge bitch, but 1.5k is a sfw part in the beginning)
a/n: listen I love when girls wear short pleated skirts, and Abby is not an exception.
MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport 
-/-/-/-/-/-/-
It’s rare to find something worthy when you’re out on the patrol, and you try to contain your disappointment every time - mostly because you hate losing and you and Abby have a rivalry going on who can bring more cool shit for the other. It’s romantic and sappy and also it drives you both crazy since you’re competitive. (people said hate sex was hot - have you tried sex after your super competitive partner loses to you? The best thing ever). So usually you won’t be happy at the end of your patrol.
But today you manage to get into a store that hasn’t been raided yet, so you start taking everything you see - people need clothes all the time, and it’s valuable. You put a mark on your map so others can go there later to take the rest and you go to women’s section, not feeling optimistic: the fabric is worse, the sizes are fucked, and even if you find something nice it tends to not last long.
But then you see it. 
On the rack next to jeans there’s a rack with skirts - and why the fuck you’d stop to look at them? - but the skirts are pleated skirts. Short pleated skirts that cover ass just enough to be socially acceptable. 
You can’t stop looking at them - you’ve seen before how nice they flow and how absolutely delicious girls look in them. 
But it’s so not Abby’s style. 
But she’ll look so good in one of these skirts.
She will probably tell you to go fuck yourself if you show it to her. 
You pack it in your backpack anyway. 
“Found something?” Abby asks as she comes inside the shop. “Oh wow. This is nice.”
“Choose whatever you want, my treat.” You say with a cocky smirk and Abby rolls her eyes.
“It doesn’t count.” 
“You’re being unfair.” You whine as Abby makes her way to you. 
“No, I’m not.” Abby murmurs. “This store is a public service, where is your personal touch?”
“You’ll talk shit just to keep your score, huh?” You smirk and Abby gives you a peck on your lips before diving into the racks to find something for herself.
The skirt gets a buddy in the form of a tight cropped white t-shirt and you don’t tell Abby about it. 
The week passes and you still don’t talk about that damn skirt even though you can’t stop thinking about Abby wearing it: how it would hug her round butt and how her thick thighs would be so shamelessly out for you. You think about how cute she’d look walking around your shared space, the skirt bouncing and almost showing you everything. You think about the possibility of Abby not wearing any underwear under it, and how hot it would be to lift the skirt up and touch her and make her moan. You think about Abby all sprawled out with your head under that skirt, making a mess out of it. 
Abby is not an idiot, so she notices the change in your mood for the last few days. She knows something is on your mind, so she catches you off guard, with her fingers buried deep inside you. 
“Come on baby, tell me what’s been bothering you.” Abby murmurs into your ear while her fingers relentlessly hit the spot that makes you see stars.
“Shit- what?” You ask, totally lost in your pleasure. 
“You’re keeping something from me. So share.” Abby kisses your neck and you try really hard not to cum, but your thighs start to shake.
“Fuck- the fucking skirt-”
And you see Abby in that skirt, all cute and shy, and you spasm around real Abby’s fingers, cumming with a groan. Abby is too distracted with watching you go through your orgasm, still fucking you, and you both forget about the topic. 
Until you’re calmed down and Abby is satisfied with how fucked out you are. Then she remembers.
“Skirt?”
Shit, you think. Now you’ll have to explain it to Abby who definitely will tell you to fuck off. 
“I took a skirt from that store we found. It’s a pleated skirt, a cute one.”
“So? You want to wear it?” 
“I want you to wear it.”
Abby is silent, and you expect it, so you already drop the subject in your head, letting it go. But Abby is not letting it go.
“You want me to wear a skirt?”
“If you want to, obviously. I think you'll be so hot in it. But I know it’s not your style.”
“It’s really not.” Abby chuckles. “So that’s why you’ve been so spacey lately? Thinking about me in a skirt?”
“Yeah. Can’t stop thinking about your pretty butt in it.” You kiss Abby’s neck and flip her on her back. “You’d look so cute.” You kiss Abby’s abs as you make your way down. “I’d run my hands under your pretty little skirt and you’ll just take it like a good girl, yeah?”
This shift is always beautiful: she just fucked your brains out, but a couple of words and your head between her legs makes Abby go pliant and soft, her big blue eyes giving you a Bambi. 
“Holy fuck.” Abby sighs and you smile into her pussy. “I’ll wear it for you.”
The hungry monster inside you roars and claws at your chest. 
Abby walks funny the next day.
You don’t actually expect Abby to wear it - after all, what is said under horny subby fog can’t be held accountable. Abby is really not a girly girl - fuck, it’d be easier to make you wear a skirt (after getting shot and stabbed repeatedly, mind you), and you understand that Abby might not be comfortable with this idea. 
But you leave the skirt and the t-shirt on the bed one day to give her the choice. When you come back, it's gone. 
Next time the skirt topic comes up when you're taking a bath together - a rare luxury, so you enjoy every second of feeling Abby's warm skin against yours.
"Do you still want me to wear a skirt?" If you were relaxed a second ago, now you're suddenly alert. 
"Only if you want it too." You kiss her shoulder. 
"And if I wear it..?" Abby gives you space to finish the phrase for her. 
"I'll fuck you on every surface in this apartment." Abby laughs, but you know what she wants to know. "Yeah, I want it to be a scene." You take a second. "Do you want me to plan it?"
"Yeah."
You freeze for a second, not really believing your luck - Abby doesn't ask for a scene plan unless she wants to do it, and right now it means she will wear a skirt for you. 
"Fuck baby, you're going to wear it for me?" You ask excitedly, squeezing her in your arms. "With a t-shirt too?"
"Yeah, yeah. Don't let it get into your head." 
"We have a few free days next week, right? Is it okay?"
"Yes, you horndog." Abby laughs and you bite her gently. 
So you spend the next days planning what you would do with Abby, writing a short list of kinks so she could veto whatever she doesn't want to happen or add something she wants to happen (the ropes last time? Her idea). She still won't know in which order everything will happen or where exactly, or even when in some cases, to save the magic of the moment, but in order to feel safe with each other, you write your lists every time, unless you both get spontaneously in the mood and have to negotiate on the fly. 
You pass your list to Abby and as she reads it, her face warms up in a pretty red colour, just like apples in the garden. 
"Okay." Abby smiles at you. "This sounds good. But I pulled my shoulder today, so I won't be able to get on my hands and knees."
"Fuck, I'll give a massage later." You say, worried. "Okay, that's fine, no doggy." 
"We can do that one, when you push the pillow under me?"
You swallow in horny, the pictures flying through your head, as you scribble it down on your list. 
"Fuck yes. Are you going to be fine like this? You still put your arms up." 
"It's not that bad." Abby shrugs. "I want to add something." 
You nod eagerly, always ready to give Abby whatever she wants. Abby walks away to go through her backpack and comes back to you, giving you a piece of small leather belt. It's too small for any human, and just as your brain starts to catch up, Abby drops the bomb on you.
"Collar me."
You blink a few times, not believing your ears.
"I'll fucking destroy you, Abs." You say, your voice low and dark. 
You had this talk before, and Abby was honestly weirded out by the ritual of collaring, so you decided not to add it, especially since you weren't in a 24/7 dynamic and not in fixed roles either. And you know Abby doesn't mean putting this collar as the collar, but it is still so hot. The whole thing is not done by the book or by rules, but you really don't care: whatever Abby wants, Abby gets. 
"I will want to tug on it." You tell her, honestly, and Abby thinks for a second.  
"Yeah, okay. Traffic lights, then." 
You nod and add "collaring" in your messy handwriting. 
You know Abby will wear this skirt, it's not a surprise, but you're still not prepared when you walk into the kitchen. 
Abby is standing there, and you trail her bare legs up until you see the edge of the skirt and holy fuck. Holy fuck she looks good in it, her trained perky ass making the folds of the skirt to look especially delicious. You lick your lips as your fingers twitch, because you want to lift it already and get a look at her pretty little pussy. 
And your eyes go up and you see this tight t-shirt that shows all the muscles in Abby's back and shoulders and you want to bite her and mark her. 
"Wow, princess." You sigh and make your way to her, squeezing her waist. Abby jumps, surprised, but relaxes against you. "You look so fucking pretty." 
"Thank you."
"Give me a twirl, will you?" You step away to give her space.
Abby is clearly embarrassed, but she does the cutest twirl in the world and yes, you can see her ass. And she is not wearing underwear, just as you told her. 
"Beautiful." You murmur and run your hand up her thigh, lifting the skirt just a little. "You wanna watch something? I brought this from the library."
You show her the dvd and Abby is still tethered to reality, so she reads the summary carefully. 
"Sounds okay. Not like the last time." 
"Fuck you, baby." You pinch her side in revenge. "Let's go."
It seems so normal. It seems like any other day off, you and Abby sitting on the couch, but even as you pretend to watch the movie, you see how twitchy Abby is getting. 
She plays with the ham of her skirt and it's so fucking cute - but then she smooths the fabric and you feel like you're going to explode: Abby enjoys wearing it. Abby likes it in a way that a girl who was forced to grow up in a horrible fucking world would enjoy doing normal girly things. 
Maybe Abby is not not so girly after all. 
Your heart feels tender right now and you can't help but to put your hand on her thigh, drawing little circles on her sensitive skin. 
"Do you like it?"
"A little predictable, but still better." Abby shrugs and squeaks when you squeeze her thigh. "Yeah." She is shy now. "I feel pretty." 
"You are pretty, princess." You whisper in her ear, making her shudder.
But you don't do anything else. You keep watching the movie, caressing Abby's thigh and pretend not to notice the change in her breathing. Then Abby starts shifting a little and you look down to see her nipples perked up. The fabric is rubbing against her sensitive skin and you just wait, because in a minute you feel how Abby tries to press her thighs together, thinking she is sneaky. 
You chuckle and move your hand under the skirt, slowly parting her folds. Abby tries to keep her whimper to herself, but you feel how wet she is. 
"What's got you so worked up, pretty girl?" You ask innocently while you brush your thumb over Abby's clit. 
"Nothing." Abby breathes out and you chuckle. 
"Really?" You wonder and pick up the speed, flicking Abby's clit until she presses her thighs together.
It's such a pretty sight: your hand under Abby's skirt, squeezed by her warm thighs, her knees pressed together. Abby is biting her lip and you watch her while your fingers tease her relentlessly. She looks desperate and helpless, and you live for it.
"Were you thinking exactly about this? How good I will make you feel under your pretty skirt?" You gently bite Abby's neck and she joists. "But we are watching a movie, princess, and I'm really interested in it. So you will give a narration while I play with your pretty pussy." You can't give less fucks about this movie, but making life harder for Abby is your favourite game.
"Yes, ma'am." Abby is not fully in the subspace yet, so she feels a little shy, but she crumbles completely when your eyes meet. 
You slide down to the floor and make Abby put her feet by her sides for better access. The skirt falls between her legs and covers her cunt, and you lean back to look at her. Abby is blushing and frowning in desperation, her nipples are perking through the t-shirt and her plushy thighs are open so shamelessly for you. 
"You stop talking, I stop touching you." You warn Abby and she nods. "Now lift your shirt up." 
Abby does as she told and now this is a sight, her small tits squeezed by the t-shirt, her abs flexing as she breathes deeply. Abby already looks ruined and you haven't done anything yet.
"What is happening there?" You ask routinely and lift Abby's skirt up, revealing her soaked little cunt. You spread her lips open and circle her clit with your thumb. 
"She is- she is at work again." Abby sighs and you hum, encouraging her. "She is talking to the cigarette selling woman." It sounds like Abby is relieved when she finishes her line and you laugh to yourself: your poor baby is trying to be good for you.
You leave her clit alone and push two fingers in slowly, watching her body react to you as beautiful as always. Abby freezes and instead of watching the movie, watches your fingers disappear in her.
"I'll take them out." You threaten and Abby snaps back into watching. 
"There's this creepy guy," Abby swallows hard when you start slowly pumping your fingers in and out. "And she has an idea- fuck." You just curled your fingers and Abby stops watching again, but quickly opens her eyes.
"What's the idea?" 
"She wants the sell- ah, fuck - selling lady and the- the-" You pick up the speed of your fingers and Abby clutches to your shoulders. You reach with your free hand and pinch her nipple, and Abby twitches in response, her pussy clenches on you. "Fuck, it feels so good, ma'am."
"And I'm yet to hear about her idea." You say with a hint of a threat, but your thrusts only get rougher. 
"She is playing matchmaker, ohmygod!" Abby whimpers and in reward you lick the long strip from your fingers buried in her pussy to her neglected clit. You suck on it and Abby lets out a shriek as her knees are closing up above your head. "Fuck, oh god- I can't-" 
You keep sucking on her clit until she is shaking and moaning, but then you move away and take out your fingers. 
"Is she still playing matchmaker?" You ask sternly.  Abby blinks and checks the screen. 
"No."
"That's what I fucking thought." You knead Abby's thighs a little painfully and keep her legs open for you. "Keep talking, princess."
Abby nods feverishly and swallows. Such a pretty fucking sight, you think as you look up to her: Abby's mouth is open and she really tries so hard to watch this stupid movie, but you push your fingers inside again and all her efforts go to waste as she twitches and blinks very fast in a attempt to not close her eyes.
"She is telling the selling lady that the creepy g- fuck-" Abby sobs when you put your mouth back on her. You play with her clit and suck on it again, making Abby buck her hips into your face. "The- the creepy guy is in- ma'am! - is in love with her!" 
You push Abby's legs together and up, almost folding her in half and push your tongue alongside your fingers, getting drunk on her taste. Abby is a smart girl, so she holds herself under her knees to help you and moans when she feels your tongue and your fingers inside.  Abby always tastes and feels like heaven, and you never want to leave her pussy alone. 
"Ma'am I'm gonna cum." Abby whimpers and you get rough, every push of your fingers is moving Abby's whole body with the sheer force of it, because Abby is not behaving.
"Is her idea working?" You suck on her clit again and Abby whines and sobs while forcing herself to look at the screen.
"Y-yes!" Abby shouts and cums on your fingers, sucking them in on every spasm. You pick up the pace and Abby tries to fight you off, but you slap her hand away and fuck her through her orgasm until her thighs are shaking uncontrollably. Abby is whimpering on every exhale, her abs are twitching, and you smile wolfishly.
"You did so good, princess." You let Abby's legs go gently and fix her skirt, smoothing the fabric. Abby looks at you with pleading eyes and your heart swells, so you straighten up and kiss her slowly and delicately. Abby relaxes and caresses your neck, chasing your mouth, and you can’t help yourself as you pinch her nipples playfully. 
“You want your collar?” You ask softly and Abby nods eagerly. “Show me how good your throat is first.”
Bratty Abby is fun, and you like the back and forth of it, but good girl Abby makes you feral: you just told her what you want and she is already opening her mouth for you, sticking her tongue out.
“Good fucking girl.” You growl and push your fingers down her throat. 
You fuck Abby’s throat until she is gurgling and her eyes roll back into her skull: you know she likes it, likes to relax her throat and let you use her as you wish. Abby is not even gagging now, so used to it, but you can feel how her throat clenches on you sometimes. Abby looks so cute like this, her tits out, her eyes closed and her thighs pressed together under the skirt as it spreads so prettily around her hips. 
“Beautiful.” You murmur and clean up her spit from her chin. Abby smiles at you, clearly pleased from praise, and you kiss her again as a reward. Abby likes kisses, especially if she is needy, as if it keeps her tethered to you. "Show me your neck, princess."
Abby straightens up and proudly shows you her neck - she is so cute you can't help your giggle. You take out the small belt and Abby looks at you with wide eyes as if you’re her god. 
"Mine." You tell her when you tighten the collar around her neck. "You're mine." 
"Yours, ma'am." Abby answers in a small voice and you see how any rational thought leaves Abby’s head as her eyes get cloudy. "Can I touch it, ma'am?"
"Go ahead." You nod and watch her strong fingers that leave bruises on your thighs brush over the leather with such care. "We're not done, princess." 
Abby nods and you tug on her collar until she stands up on her shaking legs and follows you to the bedroom. There's enough space for your fingers to fit in under the collar, but you're still careful with it: it's a new thing and you don't want to hurt Abby in a way she doesn't want to be hurt. 
You lead Abby to the bed, but instead of getting her to lie down, you sit on the bed and tug on her collar to get her down on her knees. Abby slowly sits on her thighs and fixes the skirt again, and you just can't. She is so fucking cute in it, and you can see the curve of her hips in the mirror, her waist looks tiny and the dips along her spine are so fucking hot. 
You caress Abby's cheekbone with your thumb, adoring her, and she blooms. Abby likes subbing because she's loved so fully at her weakest and most vulnerable like she's never been before - she's literally on her knees, with a collar around her neck and in a skirt and you look at her like she is divine.
"Is your throat good enough for my cock too, princess?"  You ask with a teasing smirk, palming your strap through the fabric of your pants. 
"Yes ma'am. I'll be so good for you." Abby pleads and grabs at your thighs before she remembers herself. 
"Too eager for your own good, huh?" You weave your fingers through her hair at the back, right under the braid, holding her head up. "Come on, get to work."
Abby tugs your pants down and you can see in the mirror how she presses her thighs together when she sees your strap, and that won't do. 
"Spread your legs and arch your back, I wanna see how wet you're gonna get." 
Abby does exactly as she is told, even lifting herself up a little so she could reach your lap, and you see her skirt covering everything. It's a downside, but Abby is smart, so she pushes the skirt to the front just enough for it to go up and your grip in her hair tightens from how sexy she looks. The edge of the skirt is now reaching to the middle of her ass and you see her wet pussy glisten; the contrast of her waist to hips ratio makes her ass look even better, and you feel like you're gonna cum just from watching Abby getting wet. 
"Fucking beautiful." You growl and Abby even shakes her ass a little to make it jiggle. "Focus, princess." You tell her sternly, and Abby arches into you even more. 
You tug Abby's head back and she opens her mouth automatically, so you push your cock inside just a little - Abby wraps her lips around the head and you let go of her hair, letting her run the show and have fun. Abby leaves wet open mouthed kisses along the length of your strap and you hum in approval, petting her head. She is blushing and her freckles look so pretty on her pink cheeks, her eyelashes flatter when she closes her eyes and licks the whole length of your strap. The movements cause the harness to move against your clit and your breathing gets heavier - you didn't expect it to happen, you must've put the harness in a different way - and Abby notices how tense are your thighs under her hands. She makes eye contact with you to check in, and you smile at her. 
"You're doing so good princess, you might make me cum if you keep it up."
Abby whimpers when she hears it - it's very rare for you to even allow her to touch you when you dom her, let alone make you cum, but Abby wants to. She always wants to please you in any way she's allowed to. 
"Please let me make you cum, ma'am." Abby begs, looking at you with her big doe eyes. 
"You can try, princess." You chuckle, not very sure that she can, but Abby seems determined. 
Abby lifts up a little again and lowers her head on your cock, taking as much as she can while she still can breathe, and when she comes back up, the harness grinds against your clit, making you hiss. Abby wiggles in excitement and starts to bob her head up and down, getting dizzy from hearing your panting and hissing above her.
"Just like that, babygirl." You pant and put your hand on Abby's head, slightly pushing the strap deeper. "You can take it, right?" You coo and Abby moans in agreement. "Good girl. Relax for me."
You hold Abby's head by her braid and push your strap deeper and deeper while Abby's eyes roll back into her skull. There is something so comforting about having her throat stuffed Abby can't help herself but to go absolutely slack while you fuck her throat, grunting and panting as your own pleasure builds up. 
"Ride your fingers, princess, I know you want to." 
Fucking hell, you think as you watch Abby pump her fingers in and out in the mirror, her thighs and ass look so delicious with the skirt on. Abby moans and whimpers as you fuck her throat and she fucks herself, and you know you're not going to last long. 
Your grip tightens in her hair and Abby whimpers, and you can see in the mirror how rough she is being with herself, desperate to cum. 
"Fuck-" You whimper and buck your hips up to get more friction and the same time as Abby swallows you down, and the pressure ticks you off right away. 
Your thighs shake and your hips buck, chasing the aftershocks of your orgasm while Abby watches you with wide eyes, her own fingers forgotten. She is not even breathing, absolutely mesmerised by your reactions - she made you cum, she made you cum without even touching you. 
You pant, still twitching from your orgasm, but you find the strength to move Abby away from the strap despite her whining. 
"Come here." You tug on her collar again to make her move and Abby straddles you. "Holy fuck." You whisper when you look at her. "My best girl." You kiss Abby's shoulder and she giggles.
"Thank you, ma'am." 
You smile at her and then lie down on the bed, tugging on Abby's hips so she would move. Abby is bright red - for some reason she is still so shy when you make her sit on your face - but she moves up, until her thighs are by the sides of your face. Abby can't even look at you, her eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks.
“Look at me.” You tell her and Abby steals a glance at you, which is not what you wanted. “I said look at me.”
And Abby looks, tries her hardest to maintain eye contact with you as you push her down on your face, burying yourself in her soaked pussy. 
Abby whines when you suck on her sensitive clit since she's been close after fucking herself earlier. You don't waste any time and eat her out messily, getting her wetness all over your face as you devour her, fucking her with your tongue, rubbing and sucking her clit, while Abby writhes on top of you. 
“Oh god-” She sobs and you grab a handful of her hips, pulling her skirt up so you can see her. “I'm gonna-”
And that is exactly your cue to stop, leaving Abby panting and whimpering on top of you. You watch her pretty clit throb from being so close to orgasm and smirk. 
Abby is confused and there's a tiniest hint of hurt on her face: she did such a good job and you are not letting her cum?
You chuckle and signal her to move. 
“Lie down on your stomach.” You tell her and while Abby does as she is told, you fix your harness and grab a pillow to put it under Abby's hips. 
Seeing Abby's fat thighs pressed together with her wet glistening hole between them makes you want to ruin her. The sight of your strong, dangerous girlfriend all shy and pretty and in this damn skirt makes you froth at your mouth like a fucking dog. Abby makes you feel like the most unhinged obsessed creep and the way she welcomes your dark side - as you think of it - is why you would die for her at any moment. 
You can't help the possessive bite you leave on her neck, practically growling into her ear.
“You're mine.” You tell her and Abby nods, shows her neck with a collar on it. 
“Yours.” She whispers and bucks her hips into you, presenting herself for you. 
You line your strap up and push inside, feeling how tight Abby is from being so close to an orgasm. 
“It's a pity you can't see yourself, princess.” You tell her as you watch the head of your strap slowly disappear in her hole. “You're close, aren't you?”
“Please, ma'am.” Abby whimpers and you part her ass cheeks to give yourself a show. 
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me.” Abby says and you smile. 
“You can do better than that.”
You're not usually the “beg me” type, but now you want Abby to be desperate. You keep pushing extremely slowly, teasing Abby and moving away when she bucks her hips. 
“Please, I need you.” Abby starts shyly and oh, what a great idea it is. “Ma'am, I need you, please fuck me, only you can make me feel good, please-”
You push all the way in in one go and Abby moans loudly.
“Good fucking girl.” You growl and pick a hard pace right away, slamming into Abby so hard her ass jiggles. Abby sobs and her back tenses: she feels you so deep and she is so tight in this position, and she is so fucking close. You knead her ass through the skirt and just watch your strap disappear in Abby, fucking her mercilessly. 
“Ma’am-” Abby whimpers and holds the pillow under her head for dear life, trying to hold off her orgasm. “Can I-” Abby doesn't get to finish her sentence as your next thrust knocks the air out of her. 
“Cum, babygirl.” You tell her gently while you thrust into Abby's tight little pussy with force, grabbing her hips for stability. 
Abby coils and lifts her ass as her orgasm rips through her body like an electric shock, and you chuckle, satisfied, your movements slowing down. You're not stopping, still moving inside her, and Abby squeezes her thighs together under you, whimpering. 
“Relax, princess, and let me have you.” You murmur into her ear and continue fucking her slowly, watching your strap come out of her covered in her cum. 
Abby genuinely tries to relax, but she is sensitive right now and your cock drags along her walls so slowly it drives her crazy. She likes feeling so stuffed, so full of you, but now she wants to cum again. 
“Ma'am, please go faster.” Abby asks you and you chuckle. 
“You're so impatient.” You tsk and slap her ass cheek lightly, watching it jiggle. “You're gonna cum like this or not at all, understood?”
“Yes ma'am.” Abby says, humbled, but her voice breaks in a moan when you push inside to the hilt. “Fuck.”
You smile and pull out just to push back and Abby clutches to the pillow, her whole body feels like she is on fire. You don't make it easier as your lips travel over her sensitive back, every touch of your hot tongue makes her tighten around your strap and moan pathetically. 
Abby is so close and so, so fucking far away from her orgasm and you know it, so you continue thrusting into her slowly until Abby starts to squirm and misbehave as she pushes back, chasing your strap. 
“Stop it.” You tell her sternly and push her lower back into the bed to stop her from moving. 
“Ma'am, please!” Abby whines.
You tug on her collar quite roughly and press your lips to her ear. 
“Such a brat.” You growl and slam into Abby roughly, making her squeal. “Turn on your side.” 
And that's how Abby ends up being fucked roughly from behind while you squeeze her throat and play with her clit relentlessly, bringing her to the edge immediately. Your pelvis hits her ass at every thrust and Abby whines and whimpers, her eyes rolled back, her head absolutely empty. Abby feels like she doesn’t exist anymore, only your hands and your voice and your cock do - and she feels so fucking good. 
“Ma’am-” Abby moans frantically. “It feels so good, you feel so good, thankyouthankyouthankyou” Is all you can hear between Abby’s sobs. You smile darkly and fuck her harder until she shrieks and cums again. 
But you don’t stop. You keep fucking Abby through her orgasm, you keep fucking her when she whines from being too sensitive, you keep fucking her even when she tries to move your hand away from her clit.
“Ma’am, it’s too much- I can’t-”
“You can take it.” You pant into her ear. “You wanted to cum so much before, so keep cumming.”  
And Abby does, with another sob. She cums again, and again, until it becomes too much for real, and her face is wet with tears. She feels like overstimulation now hurts more than pleases, and maybe you’re right, she has another one in her, but Abby feels exhausted. 
“Yellow.” Abby sniffles, and you stop moving right away, carefully letting go of her tit, but not removing the strap yet in case it will hurt Abby.
“Too much?” You ask her gently and Abby nods. “Does something hurt?” You ask her with such care in your voice Abby wants to cry, because she feels like she could’ve gone longer and now she’s disappointed you. 
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Abby sniffles, and you get more alert than ever.
“Abby? Can I hug you?” Abby nods and you carefully wrap your arms around her and bury your face in her neck. “Talk to me, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Did I say something?”
“No- It’s just- It started to hurt and I’m tired- fuck, I’m sorry.” 
“Baby, why are you saying sorry? It’s okay, you did good by using the safeword.”
“I just feel like I could go longer, I should not have stopped you.” Abby admits and sniffles again, ashamed - her emotions skyrocket in subspace.
“I don’t want you to push your limits to please me. How about we stop now, get clean and then cuddle and talk, if you want? How does it sound?”
“We can continue, I just need a moment.” Abby pleads as her guilt grows.
“I don't think we should, sweets.” That pet name makes Abby squeeze her eyes: you only use it when she is not allowed to argue. “It's okay. You're okay. You didn't do anything wrong.” You kiss her shoulder and Abby's head gets a little clearer. “Thank you for telling me, you did so well.”
This makes Abby feel a little better; she nods and squeezes your hand in return. You carefully remove the strap while Abby winces and then you help her get up and go to the bathroom, to shower. 
You take her clothes and collar off, and Abby doesn’t look at you, still beating herself up, but you won’t have it. So when you two get into the shower and water starts to wash the sweat and cum off both of you, you take her face in your hands and kiss her cheeks, her nose, her eyes and forehead, everywhere really. Just small gentle kisses, until Abby smiles and looks at you bashfully.
“You have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” You tell her honestly and Abby blushes, but her mood seems to go up. 
You wash both of you gently, carefully going over Abby’s crotch, and she relaxes under your arms. You dry both of you after and help Abby change into her pjs. She gets under the blankets and you kiss her forehead before going to the kitchen and getting some food for both of you. 
When you return with two plates and a big cup, Abby looks sleepily at you, seemingly calm. But you know her, you know how guilt can eat her alive, so you keep being alert. 
“Drink this first.” You give Abby warm water with honey and she drinks it, scrunching her nose from the sweetness of it. Then you eat in comfortable silence, both noticing with surprise how hungry you were - which should not be a surprise by now, really. You finish your food and clean up so you can cuddle Abby and sooth her. Abby gets on top of you and you caress her hair and shoulders absentmindedly.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better.” Abby sounds more sober now too. “I just-” She huffs, annoyed at herself. “I dunno how to explain. I could've gone longer.” 
“I don't want to hurt you. Not in a way you don't enjoy.” You remind her. Abby loves you so much she is scared to fuck everything up, and it led to some problems before, when she put your needs above hers. You talked about it, but sometimes, especially if Abby subs, she slips and does it again. This is exactly why you have a “sweets” rule: to stop her before she hurts both of you with her sacrifices. 
“I just feel like I'm..weak.” Abby admits and you chuckle. 
“You're not. You're a grownup who can tell their limits, and I'm so happy you did.” You say kindly. “I trust you. You were so good for me today, including using the safeword.” You kiss the top of Abby's head and she hugs you tighter. “I'm sorry I didn't check in with you.”
Abby nods and looks up to you. 
“We both agreed to this, right? We literally fucked around and found out.” You chuckle and reach out to grab the honey water for Abby. 
“I know you hate it, but your throat needs it.”
Abby groans and drinks it, absolutely despising the honey: this is the only drawback of getting her throat fucked.
“Did you like the skirt?” Abby asks playfully. 
“Yes. You looked so good in it, god. I got a little crazy.” You kiss her honey lips and Abby smiles into your mouth. 
“Well, next time it's your turn.” She says seriously and you laugh. 
“If you promise to not rip it apart.” 
926 notes · View notes
kitkatscabinet · 11 months
Text
Whumptober - 08: Adrenaline crash/shock
Simon Riley x gn! reader
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Sweat rolls down your brow, stinging your eyes as you blink rapidly in an attempt to clear your vision. The air stinks of gunpowder, smoke and copper. Your tongue darts out to wet your dried lips as you fight to get your breathing back under control. 
Price’s voice crackles over the comms for a status update, your teammates answer one by one and after double checking your enemies are dead you respond too. “All good here, ran into some tangos but I took care of them. Thanks for the assist Soap,” your tone is wry and only a little pissed off as you sledge him for not stepping in. 
“Apologies” he didn’t sound very sorry, “ye looked like ye had it handled.” You can practically hear his smirk in your ear and you huff, flipping him the bird. You’re unsure as to his exact location but you know he sees the gesture from overwatch regardless. 
“See if I ever help you if the roles are reversed.” You grumble, only to get a warning from Ghost to keep the comms clear. There won’t ever be an instance where the roles are reversed, as a small arms specialist you’d never be tasked with overwatch, but it was nice to dream. 
You clean the facility quickly and cleanly, systematically working your way through the hostiles. You were a little embarrassed on their behalf really, their patrols were full of holes and you’d managed to knife your way through too many distracted or sleeping groups. 
Apart from your first encounter, there had been only one more instance where you’d been caught and had to engage in hand-to-hand. You’d never admit to having struggled a little, (the guy was bigger than fucking Ghost), but you’d been saved by the arrival of Gaz and Ghost meeting you in the middle.  
Gaz opens his mouth, no doubt to make some sort of smart-ass comment but apparently thinks better of it when he sees the impotent glare on your face. Ghost simply gives you a once over and a nod but the look he gives you promises more gruelling sparring sessions in the near future. 
Your shoulders slump and you pout dramatically up at him as you go to follow, unaware of the odd look Gaz threw your way after witnessing the silent interaction. 
Your little group of three begins to cut back through the facility for a secondary sweep only for your arm to suddenly be grabbed in a bruising grip by Ghost. “Ghost what?” you startle backwards as his free hand tugs at the bottom of your compression shirt though you don’t escape his grip. 
“Ghost mate-” Gaz tries to intervene in whatever it is is happening, but his voice trails off and your own breath hitches at the sight of the weeping gash that decorates your hip and dips down to your thigh. There’s a flash of white that can only be bone and you almost vomit at the sight. 
“I didn’t even feel-” There’s a reason everyone always tells you not to look, because the second you look, the moment you acknowledge that you’ve received a grievous injury the pain kicks in. Your legs buckle and Ghost is pulling you against his chest, his large gloved hand splayed over as much of the injury he can manage to staunch the bleeding. 
The pressure brings tears to your eyes and you swear loudly alongside Gaz. Ghost presumably alerts Price to your injury and scoops you up in his arms, hustling to the extraction point. You don’t hear any of this though, nor do you even notice the sudden change in scenery until you’re staring at the evening sky. 
Blood pounds in your ears and your hands shake uselessly by your sides, perspiration dripping onto the ground below as a wave of fatigue hits you like a sledgehammer. 
Ghost is speaking, you don’t hear his words but you can tell by the way his chest rumbles against your eardrum. At some point, you’ve been ushered into a helo, packaging stuffed into your hip as your head lays on Ghost’s lap. 
You don’t even bother to try and suppress your tears anymore, your body shaking uncontrollably as fire flows through your veins. You can’t feel your left leg or torso at all, and your left arm is beginning to go numb with agonising pain. 
All of a sudden you can’t breathe, your body is heavy and refuses to cooperate and you can’t breathe. 
Ghost’s hands move to cup your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the skin in a grounding manner as he forces you to look up at him. He repeats the action a few times before one of his hands grabs your own and places it against his diaphragm. “Look at me. Copy my breathing yeah?” it’s not said like his usual commands but you attempt to follow orders anyway. 
You trust Ghost and for now, nothing else exists outside of his warm brown eyes tinged with concern and the feel of his chest falling and rising. 
Your whimpers slowly die down as you stare up into the depths of his expressive eyes that have crinkled slightly in the corners. Your free hand, significantly less shaky now, reaches up and places itself over his that still occupied your cheek. 
He barely even flinches at the sudden touch though you think you feel him start to shake a little, hunched shoulders dropping just a little as he allows himself to relax minutely at your touch. 
“Thank you.” Your thanks is silent, mouthed up at him in a whisper. His reply was a simple shake of his head and his thumbs continuing their gentle strokes. 
You can practically feel Soap’s incredulous glare from the side, this time when you flip him the bird you know exactly where he is and can hear his uproarious laughter up close.
Though you can't see Ghost's face you know for sure that he's smiling at your actions.
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redroomreflections · 4 months
Text
Not Easily Broken Chapter 2
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Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce
Masterlist | General Masterlist
2/10
Note: Yes, it's getting finished besties
W/c: 3.8k
You’re late. You’re really late. Not even just an ‘oh I got stuck in traffic I’ll be there late”. You’re the “I hope my daughter doesn’t hate me and harbor those feelings the rest of her life late.” As you bob and weave through traffic in your BMW SUV you curse to yourself. You feel stupid. Very stupid. There’s no way you can ever make up for this but you can certainly try to.
As you pull onto the street of what was once your home you squint just a little to see how many people are still there. You can see the cars lining the street start to dissipate as you pull into the driveway. Natasha is on the porch talking to one of the people you recognize from Emma’s dance class. She spots you, rolling her eyes and angling herself, so you’re not in her vision. Parking the car, you look over to the passenger’s seat where Emma’s gift is wrapped in yellow paper (her favorite color) and a bright pink bow. You turn the car off with a sigh. You really did it this time. You unbuckle your seatbelt and reach over to grab the present and exit. You walk slowly up the pathway marveling at all of the decorations that Natasha has put up for Emma’s fifth birthday.
Five. Your baby girl is five and you’ve missed her birthday party. One Natasha had gracefully invited you to. Briefly, your mind flashes back to the mornings where you and Natasha would wake the little girl up with breakfast in bed. Mini pancakes, strawberries, her favorite juice. You would go the whole nine yards for her. Now you’ve done everything but that. You reach the edge of the steps with a small wave to Natasha’s guests.
“Kerry, Doug, nice to see you again.” You give them a tight smile hoping to appear calm even though don’t feel that way.
“I’ll call you,” Natasha says bidding them goodbye. She doesn’t speak until they’re down the path and in their car. She trails her eyes over to you still in your work clothes with an apologetic look on your face. “Unbelievable.” She scoffs turning to go inside the house. You follow after her with an apology at the tip of your tongue. She starts collecting the trash she sees around the living room.
“I’m sorry, I got sidetracked at work,” You begin.
“You don’t have to apologize to me.” She shrugs. Pushing her hair behind her ear she glances at you. “I’m not the one turning five and I’m not your wife.” Something about the last part of that statement strikes you right in the heart. The divorce has been finalized for eight months now. Eight months and you’ve barely seen each other. Only during pickups and drop-offs. Even then you barely speak. Hearing her voice is...nice. Even if she is angry with you.
“I know but I’m really making an ass of myself,” You shake your head. “Where is she?”
“Backyard,” She answers.
“She must hate me,” You mutter more to yourself.
“She doesn’t hate you,” Natasha walks to the kitchen and again you follow. “She’s just really confused on why her Mommy said she would be here and wasn’t.” She gives another wave to one of the last guests and they trickle out of the house.
“Yeah,” You say following closely behind her. She stuffs the trash into the bin carefully.
As she stands to her full height you take a second to look at her. She’s gorgeous. Her hair flows behind her back longer than she’s ever let herself allow it to. Her eyes are just as expressive and beautiful. God, you’ve missed her.
You open your mouth to speak but you’re interrupted when a familiar figure steps into view. Richard Matthews. An agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Natasha’s new partner. He accompanies the Avengers on missions every now and again. You’re not exactly sure why but he’s always paired up with Natasha on missions and it never really bothered you until now.
“Everything’s all set with the kiddos,” Richard says to her. He completely ignores you and you can’t really tell if that’s intentional. The way he steps into Natasha’s space makes you think they’re closer than she’s letting on. “Emma’s having a blast with the new American doll I got. Says she’s gonna sleep with it tonight.” He smiles down at Natasha. “Will you be okay here? Ryan helped me with a lot of the backyard so there’s not much else to clean.”
“Yeah, I got it.” Natasha nods glancing over at you. She can see how uncomfortable Richard makes you feel. “Thank you, Richard.” She raises her hand to rest lightly on his bicep. You narrow your eyes. Clearing your throat they both look towards you.
“Oh, y/n, I didn’t see you there.” Richard feigns innocence.
“I’m sure you didn’t, Dick.” You say with every ounce of disdain. You can see Natasha’s lips quirk in amusement but she quickly hides it.
“Well, I’m gonna go.” He says before giving her a kiss on the cheek. He lingers before walking past you towards the front door. You two don’t break eye contact until he’s gone.
“That guy is a real tool,” You roll your eyes.
“He’s nice and he’s a part of the team.” Natasha shrugs. She steps over to the sink to do the dishes giving you the idea that this entire conversation is over. You want to ask her if she’s seeing him. If he’s more than just her partner. You’re not entitled to any of those answers and Natasha won’t be afraid to tell you.
“I’m just gonna go,” You wave the gift in your hand heading towards the back door. Once you’re out there you finally exhale. From the porch, you can see the giant pink bounce castle that both of your children are currently playing in. You go down the steps content to watch them for a moment. It’s Ryan who spots you first. Before all of this, he would have scrambled out of the bounce house to meet you halfway. Instead, he just stands there.
“Mommy!” Emma breaks you from your trance flopping onto her bottom. She slides out of the bounce house to run into your arms. You catch her twirling around in your arms. “You came!”
“I did, baby girl.” You kiss both of her cheeks.
“You missed my party though,” She reminds you.
“I know, Mommy’s so sorry,”
“It’s okay,” Emma forgives you. She wraps her arms tightly around your neck again.
“I got you something,” You jiggle the box in your hand. She leans back to inspect it her eyes widening. “Let’s go ahead and open it.” You let her down to stand on her own two feet. She takes your hand dragging you over to the picnic table on the other side of the yard. She’s small so it takes her a minute to sit correctly but when she does she beams up at you. Her socked feet swing underneath the table as she waits for you to hand her the present. You place it in front of her and take your spot next to her. She doesn’t hesitate to rip into the paper tossing the bow somewhere in the grass behind her. You can hear the sound of someone sliding out of the bounce house and you look over to see Ryan stepping closer.
“Hey bud,” You greet.
“Hi,” He says softly. You raise an arm beckoning him over to come to give you a hug. He presses himself against you as you hold him close. “I missed you.” He mumbles into your neck. Through this entire divorce, your relationship with him has been strained. Everything has been strained.
“I missed you too.” You whisper back. You give him a soothing kiss on his head. He doesn’t let you go as you both watch Emma to see her reaction.
“Wow!” She says pulling the last pieces of paper from the gift. She turns the box over and over in her hands. “I got a watch!” It’s not some fancy watch. You’re not that out of touch with reality. It’s an Apple watch. The most she can do on the thing is take pictures, use the phone features, and use a calculator. She loves it all the same as she hugs the box to her. After hearing what Richard got her you were apprehensive about it being enough. Sitting here watching her cherish this gift you know you picked correctly. “Can I call you on it?” You nod. “Every night?” You nod again. “Cool!” She cheers.
There’s a squeak coming from the back door and you know Natasha has come to the back porch.
“Can I go show Mama?” She asks you.
“Go, show her.” She turns from the picnic table rushing over to Natasha to show off her cool new present. Natasha looks down at the box and then back to you with a raise of her brow. She doesn’t share in Emma’s excitement but she tells the girl how cool it is.
“How are you doing?” You turn your focus to Ryan. He shrugs. “You sure?” He nods silently.
“Ryan, come on, it’s almost bedtime,” Natasha says. “I want to check your backpack before the night is over.” She ushers Emma inside.
“Guess we better go and check those backpacks.” You say rising to your feet. Ryan clasps your hand in his and you both move to walk inside of the house. It’s there Natasha is setting up Emma’s watch. “Patience, Printsessa.” Natasha scolds lightly. She presses a few buttons on the screen.
“Can Mommy stay for bath time?” Emma asks innocently. Your eyes fly to Natasha’s. You haven’t done that in a while.
“Please?” Ryan joins in. Natasha’s resolve is broken as she gives a meek “yes.” The children cheer in unison.
Guess you’re staying for bedtime.
This takes almost two hours to get both children through their nightly routine. Emma is more reluctant to fall asleep as she doesn’t want to miss you leaving. You tuck her into bed with a kiss and a promise to see her again soon. She pulls the American girl doll under the covers with her. You wait for her to fall asleep before leaving her room. Ryan is next and he’s much easier. He climbs into bed all on his own with his back turned to you. He’s conflicted and you being here is not making it easy on him. You sit on the bed beside him. You press a kiss to the back of his head.
“I love you,” You say before reaching over to turn off his lamp. You exit his room leaving his door cracked. You amble down the hallway to the stairs. You find Natasha in the front room gathering all of Emma’s new presents that she would put into their proper place later.
“Thanks for letting me stay to tell them goodnight,” You say awkwardly.
“Don’t mention it,” She dismisses tossing the last of the toys into a pile. The house is pretty much clean now save for the leftovers she has to put away. She’s not kicking you out as you follow her down the same path into the kitchen.
“Natasha,” You begin. stopping yourself when you realize you don’t really have anything to say. “Thank you for inviting me. I know you didn’t have to do that. I feel like a jerk. Especially with how things have been going.”
“How have things been going?” Natasha busies herself with pushing the leftovers into whatever Tupperware they can fit into. She curses turning to look for a lid for this particular bowl. “Where is it?” She searches.
“Bottom right cabinet,” You inform her. She pauses before moving over to search the cabinet you gave her. She finds what she is looking for and turns back to the food.
“Things have been going good.” You continue your earlier conversation. “Work is work. My mom is doing well. She sends her love. I can’t complain.” You watch her stuff the fridge full.
“Well I’m glad things are going well for one of us,” She slams the door of the fridge a bit harder than intended. “Not all of us are able to abandon our motherly duties.”
“Natasha, I’m trying my best here.” You say immediately knowing what she means.
“That’s what pisses me off the most,” She says exasperatedly. “They’re so good with you just trying. They don’t care how many times you mess up. They don’t care if you don’t do something. They don’t care if you’re having a bad day and you’re doing everything to make them happy. They don’t care if you don’t show up for their goddamn birthdays but it’s me that get’s the brunt of the madness and the anger.” She slams her hands against the counter. Running her hand through her hair, she shakes her head. “Do you know Ryan got into a fight at school the other day? He’s been...angry these days. I’m considering seeing a therapist with them.” She nods to herself. “Emma’s been giving me hell too. I wouldn’t allow her to watch tv one night because I dislike them having so much free time. She threw a tantrum.” She swallows thickly. “She told me, she told me she hates me and that she wishes she could come live with you.” The unshed tears in her eyes break your heart into a thousand pieces. “So, yes trying your best doesn’t really fly with me.”
“Natasha, I’m,” There’s no amount of apologizing that could take that hurt from her. “I’ll talk to them. I’ll take them out for dinner and we can talk.”
Natasha sighs. She knows this isn’t something that can be fixed with a simple talk. She lets her tears fall freely. You hate that this is what you’ve done to your family. Stepping around the counter you reach out to her. It’s reminiscent of that night all those months ago when you left. All you want to do is make it better. Make her feel better. Your emotions are conflicting as you bring your fingers up to caress her cheek. She stands stock-still closing her eyes at your touch. You rub your thumbs across her cheeks clearing away the tear tracks.
“I’m sorry,” You say and she lets out a sob.
“You’re not sorry,” She shakes her head.
“No, Natasha, I’m sorry,” You say firmly. You’re hoping she can hear the sincerity in your voice. She opens her eyes searching your face for a lie. You get lost in the forest of her eyes. So trusting and loving even with all of the pain you’ve brought your family.
You don’t know who makes the move first. Your lips meet tentatively. There’s a hint of familiarity that comes from nine years of marriage. The kiss is soft and sweet. Her lips glide over yours in a slow, languid motion. It’s not lacking in passion. Quite the opposite actually. Her mouth is hot and wet and hungry for you as your tongues meet. Taking in her flavor, you moan. She tastes like leftover cake with a hint of toothpaste. You pull back slightly to suck her bottom lip into your mouth. You nip it gently and the moan it elicits from Natasha only spurs you on. Her arms come up to wrap around your neck pulling you closer as you push her gently towards the counter. Her back is pressed against it as you kiss her harder. You spend a few more moments wrapped up in each other. Your hands roam her body tracing over every curve.
The need for air becomes too great as you pull away to trail kisses down her neck. You lick at her pulse point before giving it a soft bite. She moans a bit louder tensing under you. You’re moving fast and hurried as you push her tank top over her breast. You move the cup of her bra to expose her nipple taking the rosy bud between your lips. You give it a hard suck and she gasps loudly. Her hands push your head closer to her as you swipe your tongue across her nipple. Your right-hand slides down to trace the front of her jeans.
“Please,” She says in her lust-filled haze. You flick the button of her pants open skirting your fingers under the waistband of her underwear. She’s wet. So wet. You slide your fingers through her folds collecting her wetness. On one particular slide, you bump her clit causing her hips to jump. You trace her opening and she’s panting now. When your fingers slip inside of her she lets out a yelp. You push until you’re at the second knuckle. You can hear the sound of her arousal and it is music to your ears. Natasha has always been loud during sex and this is no exception. You abandon her breasts to return your lips to hers.
“Shh, baby, you don’t want to wake them,” You whisper into her ear. She nods shakily as she tries to fuck herself on your fingers. You thrust harder sending her reeling as she reaches blindly behind her for the counter. “Good girl,” She flutters around your fingers, and god damn you want to stay like this forever.
“Harder,” Her breath is airy and hurried. She’s close. You listen thrusting into her harder, faster, deeper. Her brows are knit together as she chases her orgasm. You can feel the way she tightens around your fingers.
“He doesn’t fuck you like this does he?” You breathe close to her ear. “Doesn’t take care of you like I do,” The moment is over faster than you know it. Suddenly Natasha is pulling away and pushing you away from her. It’s like a bucket of ice-cold water has been dumped on you as she takes a huge step away. She’s buttoning her jeans and wiping at her mouth as you try to catch your breath. “What? What happened?”
“You can’t be serious?” She says. “You think I’m fucking him?”
“Natasha,” You drop your hands to your sides. She pushes her shirt down over her breast and you immediately miss your closeness.
“No, no, you cannot be serious.” Natasha turns to catch her breath. “You don’t have the right,”
“Fuck, I didn’t mean to assume. He was close to you, kissed you.”
“On the cheek,” She whips her head to look at you. “He comes over sometimes to help with the kids. They like him. That’s not any of your business if I was fucking him or not by the way. You lost that when you served me with the divorce papers.”
A wave of anger washes over you. Swiping your hand across the counter you cause all of the glasses she dried earlier to crash to the ground.
“Fuck,” You yell. The glass resting at your feet satisfies you. It’s a representation of how you’re feeling right now. Natasha jumps back avoiding the glass from touching her. She looks down at the mess in surprise before looking back at you. You both wait in anticipation for one of the kids to come down. They don’t.
You rush out of the back door to sit on the steps. You bend so your head is between your knees. The blood rushes there and you cough hoping to catch your breath. The backdoor creaks. A comforting hand is placed upon your back as Natasha comes to sit next to you.
“Breathe, y/n.” She hums. You’re having a panic attack. She sits with you so patiently as your breathing becomes normal again.
“I’m not good for them,” You say. “I’m just like him.” You whisper brokenly.
“No, y/n, you’re not.” Natasha lifts your chin to look at her. “You’re not.”
“But you said-”
“I know what I said,” Natasha interrupts. “You’re nothing like him. I only wanted to hurt you as much as you hurt me.” The admission sits between the two of you.
“Fuck,”
She returns her hand to her lap.
“I can’t…” You struggle. “It wasn’t making sense. Any of it. It doesn’t make sense. One minute we were happy and the next we weren’t. We became too much. I couldn’t make you happy anymore. Emma told me during her bath that she hears you crying at night when you think she’s asleep. I never meant to do any of this. I never meant it, Tasha.” You cry. You mean it. You ran. You did what you do best and ran.
“I know,” She says solemnly. “You never asked me if I was happy.” You lift your head to look at her questioningly. “You said you couldn’t make me happy anymore but you never asked me. You never ask you just assume. I’ve always been happy with you. Back during our days in the tower, when we got married, when we were pregnant with Ryan.” She names. “Even when we weren’t having sex and not communicating and fighting all of the time. I never once thought that we would end.” You’re surprised by that. All this time you thought you were doing the right thing for everyone and now you don’t know if it was the right thing at all. “Couples have rough patches. Tony and Pepper did. Thor and Jane. Clint and Laura. They got through it. I thought we could too. When you handed me those papers -- my entire world stopped, y/n. I thought there was something wrong with me. I thought maybe you found someone else. I thought so many things. But that I didn’t see coming.”
“I’m sorry,” It’s your turn to cry now. “I didn’t want this.” You shake your head. “I fucked up.” You say.
“Is this because you think I’m sleeping with someone else?”
“Partly,” You admit. “I have had some time to think and I just… I thought I was doing what’s best for us. You’re right I didn’t ask you. I assumed. I pulled away. I’m so sorry, Natasha. I never stopped loving you or wanting you. Even though all of that.” Natasha’s breath hitches through your admission.
“Then why?” She asks. “Why did you leave me?”
You don’t have a single answer. “I thought you were better off without me.”
“How could you ever think that?” She asks. You don’t have an answer for her.
“I have to leave in the morning,” You say. The moment is broken and though Natasha thought you were getting somewhere it’s clear you haven’t. She moves to stand and you catch her wrist. “Come with me. It’s a week in Florida. Come with me. You and the kids.”
“Y/n, we can’t just leave in the morning.” She says. “The kids have school and I have work.” You deflate. Of course not. You shouldn’t have asked. “But we could meet you there Friday night? Gives us time to pack and get everything in order with their teachers.” She’s giving you a chance. You stand to look at her. “The moment we come back we’re in therapy. All of us.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” You promise.
“Don’t break my heart again,” She begs quietly. “I don’t think I’ll survive this time.”
“I won’t.” You pull her into your arms. Standing here with her you wonder how you ever thought you could be without her.
---> next part
149 notes · View notes
base0h · 1 year
Text
If you were in the hospital
a/n - I’m in the hospital so this is absolutely perfect 💪 kinda self indulgent sorry
Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, sick reader, modern au, I bully kidd even when I’m sick (don’t worry I’m not too sick to bully him)
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- this asshole wouldn’t fit through the damn doorway 💀 and he would be the person the other patients were complaining about
- “Um. Nurse? There’s this red haired guy who threatened to kill me earlier?” -random innocent person
- jokes aside, he would stay with you and get you whatever you need. Aggressively.
- “Hey Kidd, I need some water.”
- “NURSE I NEED SOME FUCKING WATER.”
- “Kidd! Ask nicely-!”
- “I NEED SOME FUCKING WATER PLEASE.”
- poor you 😭
- he would try and sleep with you on the bed but his fat ass can’t fit 💀 bro is too big for that
- he would also invite killer if that’s ok with you, killer is a better caretaker than him obviously
- he would be helping the nurses politely and making sure you were comfortable
- Kidd would literally threaten the doctor to come and check on you or else he’d kill his family 😭😭😭😭 pls save this doctor
- when the room gets super quiet, he’d ask the literal most random ass questions so it doesn’t get awkward but it gets more awkward after he asks them
- “Does your ass itch? Mine does.”
- “WTF KIDD?!”
- 💀💀💀💀
- He snores really loud so you’re probably not going to sleep very well, but knowing he’s there with you is comforting at least
- bro wakes up the other patients in other rooms 💀
- if Kidd is there, killer’s there too- they’re inseparable and also Kidd would die if killer and you weren’t there trying to keep this dumbass alive
- killer would be telling Kidd to shut up every five seconds as he should
- all in all, a 0/10 hospital experience, but a 10/10 emotional support experience 👍
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- let’s just say this time, he’s not your doctor
- trust me, he’d be there before you even arrive in the ambulance 💀 he has everything you need
- changes of clothes, your favorite blankets, water bottles, stuffed animals, movies, literally everything
- he’d be the one who’s talking with the nurses and telling them what to do 😭 the poor doctor became his subordinate
- it got kind of annoying, but he asks a TON of questions almost every minute or so
- “Are you feeling nauseated?”
- “Dizzy?”
- “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
- “What’s your name, and where are you right now?”
- yeah he’s just worried, go along with it
- he’s the type of guy to literally never leave and just stare at you the entire time, it’s creepy
- “Law, you staring at me is not helping.”
- “I- wha-?! Fine. I’m just worried y/n.”
- “Okok! Sorry- you can stare at me- don’t sulk and turn emo in the corner!”
- “I’m not EMO!”
- “Yeah you kinda are.”
- Law is the definition of emo 💀 he can’t lie about it, and he can’t hide it, it’s just natural
- even if you don’t want to, he’s going to help you walk around the hospital room, just to keep the blood flow going
- he knows that even though you’re not supposed to move around a lot, walking a little bit is good
- law will not sleep at all- he will continue to stare at you as you sleep, it’s creepy 😭
- literally law: 👁️ _ 👁️
- it’s amazing how you were able to sleep with him staring through your soul, I commend you for that
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- my man is THE WORST when it comes to you getting sick
- he looks everything up on google and gets the worst results
- “S/o has a horrible stomachache.”
- “Cancer.” -google
- “S/o feels dizzy.”
- “Cancer.” -google
- oml poor ace 😭
- he rushed you to the ER, and almost crashed into 80 cars on the way 💀
- “MOVE OUTTA THE WAY-! Y/N IS SICK MOVE IT!”
- trust me, they moved out of the way
- the doctors hate him because he thinks you have some crazy disease when in reality you just have a really bad flu
- “I’m telling you! It’s appendicitis!”
- “Sir- it’s the flu- please calm down.”
- “I’M CALM.”
- no he’s not 😭
- very confused by the machines
- “IS THAT LIFE SUPPORT?! I KNEW IT! YOU’RE DYING! AHHHHHHHHHHH!”
- “Ace. It’s an IV. It’s so I don’t get dehydrated.”
- “LIFE SUPPORT BECAUSE YOU’RE DEHYDRATED?! ASVJSBDJENDINFKFNFJF!”
- called sabo and started freaking out to him 💀
- “SABO. Y/N IS DYING WHAT THE FUCK DO I DO?!”
- “Ace I’m sure y/n is not dying. Calm down.”
- “WHY IS EVERYONE TELLING ME TO CALM DOWN?! I’M SO CALM RIGHT NOW?”
- you sure abt that ace?
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- I can confirm that he is never calm when it comes to your health and safety
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- he wouldn’t know what to do, but he’d follow you and stay with you for the entire time, so don’t worry about that
- he’s like law, and would stare at you literally every second that you’re there
- “Zoro you don’t have to stare.”
- “I dunno- what if you start having a stroke?!”
- “I’M NOT OLD IDIOT!”
- my guy doesn’t know that you’re not an old, senile elderly person 💀
- he would fall asleep on you while holding your hand, since he’s been so worried, it kind of exhausts him
- it’s adorable though
- he snores, but it’s cute that he fell asleep holding your hand just tight enough to let you know he’s there with you 💜
- if you ever needed help getting some water, a heat pack for your stomach, or literally anything? He’s got you covered
- but if he has to leave your room for it he might not come back. Ever.
- as you were watching tv about some crash a couple miles away, you saw a green haired guy in the background that looked oddly familiar
- he seemed to be buying a water from a vending machine
- when he turned around you almost broke the tv remote in half
- “ZORO?!”
- nah this idiot 💀 y/n I suggest you put some kind of leash on him
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a/n - zoro needs to eat the gps gps no mi 😭
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approvedtrash · 1 year
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hands? yes please.
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Walking in and hearing you was nothing new for him. He’d usually hear you singing in the kitchen or yelling at a game you were playing. Walking in and hearing your moans coming from your shared room was something a bit new for 3pm. 
Curiosity got the better of him as he entered. Placing his stuff down carefully as to not scare you. You were getting louder and and sounded desperate but all he could hear was you. Well and a slight dinging. 
The door was cracked open so he didn’t even have to make a sound as he peeked inside. There you were ass in the air and fingers moving in and out of your wet center. You had a ball gag in your mouth to muffle the sounds. The sounds that were going straight to his cock. 
“Mmm -” you moaned out as you stuck a fourth finger in. 
Bakugo was drooling at this point. He knew about your little side hustle but it was usually when he was away on long missions. He had never seen you live and in person before like this. In all of your glory working yourself open and drooling yourself on the sheets. 
“What a welcome home,” he growled. 
Everything stopped at this point. Though the pings were doubling now. Your free hand worked it’s way towards the gag pulling it out slowly. 
“Hey baby, glad you’re home,” you moaned out.
Turning to look at your monitor you giggled and looked at Bakugo again.
“You’re making the viewers go crazy Baby, they want you to join me,” you said. 
“Is that so? What do you want sweets?” He asked. His voice hoarse and sexy as he walked closer to you. 
You were thinking while your fingers were starting to inch towards your core again. Taunting and teasing while you looked at him, eyes half lidded. 
“I know you can’t be on fully, but I bet they’d like your hands. So big and strong,” you got out in a breathy tone. 
He chuckled and crept towards you again, “Oh, you think they deserve it? Should they get to see me making my girl feel good?”
"Come check the comments," you told him.
Sauntering over to peer at your screen but not be seen on camera he scanned the comments flooding in. He knew you were popular but you had more than doubled what you made weekly I'm the 20 minutes you were streaming.
"If you wanna see it so bad pay up," he growled.
The numbers started to grow exponentially. He smirked down at you as you started to run your hands up your thighs. Eyes locked with his the whole time and not even noticing your camera anymore. His hand began with feather like touches on my spine. 
“I knew you’d like this, coming home to see me stuffing myself full without you,” you giggled.
“Full huh? I could give you something to stuff you full,” he growled. 
A smack to your ass as he moved closer to your core. You were dripping again already. He coated his fingers as he slowly moved in between your lips. The small sounds coming from you only made him want to fuck you more. He had to be good though since he didn’t want to give his identity away. 
“You’re right, you always fill me must better,” you mewled. Pushing back against him a little more.
“Needy little slut aren’t you, trying to fuck yourself on my fingers and I haven’t even done much,” he said. 
Bakugo turned toward your set up. Watching comments come in about how good you looked, how you were dripping, how he must be a good lay if you were this desperate. He couldn’t agree more. He was so proud of you. 
“Your viewers are just as bad as you are Princess, you fuckers enjoy watching me finger fuck my girl so much? How about you buy her something nice,” he suggested. 
The numbers were flowing in even more now. You weren’t even paying attention as you were grinding against his palm to get what you wanted most. 
“I want you, please,” you were begging at this point.
“What more can I give you angel?” He asked. A slight slap to your center as he started toying with your clit.
“It won’t even get your face, please fuck me,” you whined.
He pondered while his other hand come over now to start fucking you open again, “You sure they deserve to see you get pounded like that?”
Frantically nodding and fisting the sheets you whined again. He could hear a faint please come out of you. He was already moving his sweats down just enough. His cock came out and as you saw it hard waiting for you you groaned loudly. 
“Pretty making all of those sounds just for me, waiting for me to split you open and make you scream huh?” He asked. His hand kneading the flesh of your ass. 
“Been waiting for you to come home and fill me all day baby,” you replied. Your hands coming to spread yourself open to present yourself to him. 
Lining himself up with you he teased your clit with the head of his cock. Coating it to slick himself up before he slammed into you. Hands kneading the flesh of your hips as he groaned feeling your warm wet insides around him. 
There was a constant ring now as donations and messages were flooding in. Those were drowned out by the sounds of his skin slapping against yours and his grunts as he fucked you into your mattress. 
“Oh fuck, I knew I was missing you. Fucking pussy drooling on my cock while your viewers watch, dirty little thing,” he was panting. 
You’d respond but his other hand was holding your head into the sheets. Anything coming out of you was muffled. Not that you were complaining. This was one of your favorite positions. 
“I can feel you clenching around me, you gonna cum so fucking soon huh? You that close, love me pounding into you like this, huh?” He kept up. 
He was getting close too, he had a stressful day and this was exactly what he needed to unwind. Feeling you so warm around him and and ready for him. He was twitching. 
“How much to cum inside her huh? What’s that worth to you?” He asked towards the monitor. 
“If you cum inside me I’ll pay you Ka- baby, please,” you managed to get out. 
That pushed him over, his cum filling you and giving you exactly what you needed to finish as well. You were both panting but you knew the show was over. Turning around just enough to thank the viewers and sign off. Katsuki fell on you after that. 
“That was a lot of fun, thank you Katsuki. Bad day?” You asked. Pulling his head down as you turned so he could lay on you. 
“Not so bad anymore, you almost slipped up Princess,” he whispered. He was falling asleep. 
Hand combing through his hair you were going over all of the donations and comments on your last stream. Your eyes going to one that had sent in 50,000 yen with the comment ‘Let Dynamight know he should cover the scars on his hand if he wants to continue these shows.’
You’d keep that to yourself for now but would make sure that he wore gloves in the future should he want to be a special guest.
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hotluncheddie · 1 year
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bet.
for the october @steddiemicrofic prompt 'suck' ! happy halloween !!
wc: 480 | rated: T | cw: none | tags: bestie robin, chubby steve, horny eddie
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖
‘bet you can’t keep your hands off him for the whole party.’ robin stares eddie down from across the sofa.
‘what? on Halloween? is that how you think of me bobbie? i’m wounded’ eddie watches steve’s ass as he walks to the kitchen.
robin throws popcorn at him ‘eddie. the only reason you're not still sitting in his lap is because i asked him to get more soda.. literally a second ago.’ 
‘and you were so mean for that.’ eddie folds his arms, eyes flicking between robin and steve at the fridge. robin is scowling.. ‘fine. your bet, what’s the stakes?’
robins scowl drops and she sighs 'i need steve to wingman. the new girl from work is bringing her roommate and it’s been hinted her favourite colour is violet and i need this eddie, like, seriously.’ 
eddie softens. ’it would be homophobic of me to take that away from you.’ poking her with his socked toe. ‘do i get anything? for keeping my hands off?’
‘24 hours. i have a project due but no time till the day before. apartment will be yours. you two can do what you want.. my rooms off limits.’ 
‘you, miss robin buckly, have a deal.’ 
‘you, are an evil witch robin buckley’
‘oh, get over it!’ robin huffs, tipsy.
‘how could you do this to me! on halloween!’ eddie pouts.
‘suck it up buttercup. just remember what’s at stake.’ 
‘ughhhh’ 
‘yeah because i’m so sorry i convinced steve to pick that costume. even though he had to buy it, so it’s his, forever.’ 
‘…did i ever tell you you’re the light of my life?’
robin flicks him on the forehead and walks back over to steve and the girl.
eddie tracks her. resigned to sulking. 
and blue balls.
because steve is in a sailor uniform, but this one is off-white with black accents, complementing his tan. the trousers are long, wide in the leg and tight in the ass. cupping around the curve of it, like eddie wishes he was, right now. the hat on his head is at an angle and pushes his hair down, so it frames his rosy cheeks, and pretty smile.
and the top. oh! the top. the flap collar frames broad shoulders and deep v exposes chest hair. it ends at his hipline and flowed nicely but steve’s had a few beers. bloated, his belly has started filling in the front, started pulling around his love handles. the outline of his soft, wide belly button is just visible.
‘just one night.’ eddie mumbles to himself, leaning against a wall. ‘then 24 uninterrupted hours.’
steve readjusts the waistband of his trousers, hiking them a little higher. eddie sees how the movement makes his belly jiggle. 
sliding slowly down the wall and into a heap on the floor; eddie bites his fist and allows himself one tiny, tortured little whimper.  
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deadface-abominate · 1 year
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Dethklok+Charles Catching You Dancing
Suggested by @strangekindaerin
Warnings: Weird song choices
Nathan:
Nathan is hanging out with you in your apartment
He’s eating chips on the couch, waiting for you to finish up some chores so you can watch a movie with him
He can hear a small noise coming from your kitchen. It sounds a little like your voice. He goes to investigate
He’s thinking you might’ve gone insane and started talking to yourself, but he finds that you’re actually just singing quietly to yourself, headphones on and hips swaying as you wash a few dishes
The vision of your ass shaking side to side is pretty hot, but he’s really entranced by your voice
You don’t notice him approaching, the chorus of Lose Yourself To Dance by Daft Punk flowing into your ears and out of your mouth
He taps you on the shoulder, making you jump
“Dammit, Nathan! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“That song isn’t brutal,” he tells you, as if you asked
“Your voice is nice though…” he mumbles. You smile at him, your anger gone
“Thanks, Nate. Wait for me in the living room, I’ll be done in a minute,” he does as he’s told without a word, but he can’t get the image of you singing and dancing out of his head
When you finally join him, he’s completely lost interest in the idea of watching a movie
“Could you, um, keep singing that song?” He feels a little pathetic asking. The song wasn’t his favorite, but the sound of your voice was irresistible to him
Your eyes go a little wide. “Oh! Sure, but only if you dance with me,” you extend a hand out. He hesitates, but accepts it and stands up from the couch
The two of you sway and swing around your small living room, Nathan allowing you to expose him to this “girl music” just this once. He’ll be sure to put on something nice and heavy for the next song
Pickles
Pickles stumbles back to his room after another wild night of drinking
You had been out with him, but he lost you somewhere along the way. He gave up on looking for you after awhile and decided it was time for bed
He hears some loud pop song playing in his room through the closed door. He cringes at the sound of it
He finds you behind the door, busting it down to Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado and Timbaland. You don’t seem to notice him over the music
He flashes his crooked grin. The song is awful, but seeing you drop that ass down to the floor is an amazing sight
He can’t resist grabbing your shaking ass as you’re dipping to the floor
“Pickles! Babe!” You spin around and give him a big, sloppy kiss on the lips. “Where’d ya disappear to?” 
He chuckles. “You’re the one that ran off. What’s with this terrible music?” 
He knew it wasn’t a song you would listen to sober, so you must be even more hammered than he is
“Dunno, it just kinda felt right,” you do a somersault towards the door, landing in a half split since you can’t quite stretch all the way out. You can’t do tricks like this when your sober mind reminds you that you can hurt yourself
Pickles is so impressed (and turned on) that he’s no longer bothered by the trashy music in the background
“Hey, come over here,” he sits on the side of his bed, patting his lap, clearly requesting a lap dance
You comply, moonwalking over to him and straddling his lap, grinding and thrusting into him
When the song ends, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you down as he falls back onto the bed
You rest your forehead on his for a minute, staring into each other’s eyes. He kisses you deeply and rolls you onto your back. He was planning to sleep off the booze, but he has a better idea now
Murderface
The boys are supposed to meet you at a strip club this afternoon. The meeting place was, amazingly, your idea
Murderface decided to head to the club a little early. He told the band he wasn’t going to waste time with them that could be spent watching hot sluts. Truth is, he just wants to get some time with you before the others show up and hog you
The sound of 3 by Britney Spears is blasting through the club and can be heard from the outside
To his delight, when he enters, he sees the hottest slut of all twirling around the pole; you
Turns out you got the time wrong and showed up an hour early, but you made friends with the dancers and they brought you on stage for a dance lesson. The club was empty at this hour anyway, so why not have some fun?
“You gotta squeeze your thighs together reeeal tight,” one of the dancers shows you how to hang from the pole without your hands. She climbs halfway up the pole and flexes her thigh muscles into the pole, leaning back
You try the same, but it only takes a few seconds for your muscles to give out. You fall to the stage, bruising your ass
“It’s okay, sweetie. No one gets it the first try,” another dancer helps you to your feet. That’s when you see Murderface, standing in the door looking dumbfounded 
“Will! You’re early! I was just hanging out with the girls. Look what they taught me!” You snake up the pole and lock your ankles at the top, hanging upside down. You stay in place for about ten seconds before you slowly slide to the floor, hitting your head with an “oof”
“That’s fuckin’ awesome! He shouts, running up to the stage. It was only mildly awesome, but the fact that it was you doing it made it 100x more awesome
“Ready to try the next move again?” The first dancer asks
“This one’s for you, Will!” You dramatically point at him and jump up the pole, clenching your thighs with all your force and leaning back. Murderface starts throwing singles at you to help you get into the stripper mindset
It seems to help, because you make it an entire 15 seconds before dropping again
Murderface claps for you. “That was perfect, y/n! Keep practicing and you’ll be a pro stripper in no time,” you weren’t exactly planning on turning this into a regular thing, but he really wants to see you do this more often
“We were gonna give her some lap dance tips next,” a dancer says
“Right! I was gonna practice on an empty chair, but I guess I can use Will as my test dummy instead!” You grin at him and jump off the stage and onto his shoulders
His head goes foggy. There’s no way this is happening. He doesn’t get this lucky. He has to be dreaming. He’s so excited that he doesn’t hear the dancers in the back wondering if you really want to use him for your practice
Just as he’s about to park his ass on a chair, ready to live out his wildest fantasy, the rest of the band walks through the club door
His face drops. Why did these assholes have to walk in now?
“Y/n, what the hells is goings on?” Skwisgaar asks, seeing your legs locked around Murderface’s neck
“I was just practicing my dancing,” you release yourself from his body, going to greet the boys
“We’ll pick this back up later,” you whisper into his ear as you walk past him. His mood picks back up, his heart races, his palms sweat. He can’t wait to get you alone again
He might invest in getting a stripper pole put in his room
Skwisgaar
Skwisgaar is not having a good night
Once again, he got dragged to some shitty venue to deal with one of his band mate’s half baked schemes. He couldn’t even remember what the plan was or who came up with it. He just knew that this band was playing some garbage nu metal cover of Lady Gaga’s Poker Face, of all songs
The crowd was full of losers, the beer was watered down, the air was musty
Simply put, he was too good to be here
The worst part was that even though he had taken you along to keep him sane, he lost you in the crowd at some point. Now he had to wallow in misery alone
He’s about to step out for fresh air, when he finally spots your face again for the first time in almost an hour
You’re in the club’s lame excuse for a mosh pit, headbanging with some random dudes he had never seen before
He can’t believe he’s seeing you enjoying yourself here, dancing to this song. Have you officially lost your mind?
He pushes through the crowd, zeroing in on you to grab your wrist and drag you out
“Skwis, what the fuck—“ you groan as he pulls you out
“You was supposeds to be hangings out with me tonights! Why’d you runs off?” He pauses. “Hows can you be enjoyings this songs?”
“I’m not. It’s fucking awful. I can’t think of a song that needs a nu metal cover less than this one,” you glance at the stage for a second, still baffled by this no name band and their artistic choices. “But I’d rather have some fun than waste a night being miserable. And, you can’t hear the song as well when you’re in the middle of a crowd of loud assholes.”
“Stills, you shouldn’ts have lefts me,” he pouts. You hold back an eye roll. He could be so spoiled sometimes. 
“Alright, sorry. But I knew you were just gonna be hanging out in a corner looking annoyed the whole time, so I tried to make the night enjoyable for myself,” you hold a hand out to him. “Come back to the pit with me, we can still salvage some of this night”
He frowns at your hand. “I don’t wants to,” he lies. He would love to dance with you, but he’s too stubborn to admit that this evening could possibly have any good come of it
“Yes you do,” you see right through him. This time, you’re the one dragging him by the wrist, back into the sea of sweaty drunks
He stays mostly still as you dance explicitly around his body, but as long as he can watch you dirty dance all night, he can enjoy the rest of his shitty evening
Toki
Toki bought some snacks he wanted to share with you, so he headed to your apartment 
The two of you have the kind of relationship where he can show up unannounced, and he has his own key to your place
He knocks out of courtesy, but when you don’t answer, he lets himself in
“Y/n, I broughts snacks!” He calls to you as he enters your living room, but you still don’t answer. He hears music coming from your room
He opens the door to your room to find you dancing joyfully to Die Young by Ke$ha. The sound of your door opening startles you into stopping. You’re about to freak out at the intruder when you realize it’s just Toki
“Jesus, Toki! I thought someone broke in!” You scold him, but go to give him a hug. The comforting feeling of his surprisingly strong arms around you makes your heart rate go back down
“Y/n, this songs ams really bad. Buts you looks so cute whens you dance!” Toki releases you
“I know, I know. It isn’t the kind of thing you listen to, but I’ve been wanting to get better at dancing, and no offense, but Dethklok isn’t exactly danceable music,” Toki smiles at you
“You is learnings to dance?! I wants to learns with you!” This man is way too sweet. You love the idea of learning to dance alongside Toki
The two of you will meet up in your apartment twice a week to practice together. Neither of you are very good, but you both have so much fun that you don’t even care
You eventually sign up for dance classes together. The guys tease both of you over it. You brush off their comments
You even start noticing that there’s more technique to Toki’s headbanging at their concerts
He secretly starts fantasizing about the two of you getting married and blowing everyone away with how flawless your first dance is at your wedding
Charles
You’re in Charles’s room, reorganizing some stuff as you wait for him to be done with work for the day (he’s never really done, but he’s gotta sleep eventually)
He didn’t ask you to rearrange his room, but it was something you started doing to cure boredom
You turn on some music to make the tasks more fun, blasting Pallbearer’s cover of Love You to Death
At first, you just hum along with it, but you soon start swaying your hips and doing the occasional twirl as you move around the room
Charles managed to finish up a little earlier than usual. He rushed straight to his room, knowing you would be there and he could finally relax in your presence
He opens the door and finds you waltzing around. You don’t notice him, so he decides to watch for awhile
His expression lightens up, his shoulders relax, and he puts on a rare smile. No matter how stressful his day is, coming back to see you doing something stupid or weird would always lift the weight from his shoulders
He quietly closed the door behind him, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You jolt a little, but realize almost immediately it’s him
“You’re done early,” you say in a soft voice. You try to turn around to kiss him, but he keeps his grip on your waist
“Shh, keep dancing,” he whispers, leaving a kiss on the side of your neck. He lets you go so you can keep moving while he changes into more comfortable clothes
He just sits on his bed and watches you move your body to the soft song. He almost never gets to hear music this slow and soothing. The music and gentle movements of your body put him in a dreamlike state
You notice his eyelids getting heavy and turn off the music. You go to stand in front of him to rub his shoulders and give him a kiss on the top of his head
You force him to lie down and wiggle in next to him. You sling one arm over his chest and run your fingers through his hair with the other
He’s out much faster than he normally would be. You silently pledge to dance for him more often if it will help him decompress
Keep the requests coming!! I should I add I'll only write for Dethklok and Charles
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lizzy-calaxio · 2 months
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Hey! Look at this! I found motivation to write! It's Krile and Lizzy stuff, with minimal spoilers to MSQ! It takes place a little before Endwalker, and mentions Sharlayan locations, as well as referring to events in stormblood, so if you haven't played dawntrail yet, you're fine c:
“’Introduction to Psychology’? Why, I’ve never heard of that. Who’s the teacher? Archon...Calaxio?! Well, this must surely be interesting. Let’s ask her about it, maybe it’ll be fun.” Krile speaks idly to herself as she fills out the semester sign up forms.
Later that day, she walks around Sharlayan. Finding a nice walk can be very refreshing after looking through numerous dense books. Sometimes, at night, she’s even able to walk around with her hood down, feeling the wind flow through her hair – the chilling breeze cooling the back of her neck.
While walking near the Studium, she sees a familiar large tail rounding a corner ahead of her.
“Lizzy! Hey wait!” Krile starts a light jog to catch up, as she turns the corner, she gets smacked in the face by the previously seen tail, “OW!” “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! This always happens, I’m very clumsy with my tail, I’m so so sorry, are you ok? Normally echo havers are safe…”
Krile, flat on her ass, looks up at the Au Ra profusely apologizing to her, spikey black hair with red-emberish highlights on the tips stand out immediately, “Uh, y-yea. I’m ok, thank you.”
Lizzy helps her up, and Krile can’t help but notice how different Lizzy looks in a professional outfit – a blue suit-coat, with black slacks and dress shoes. On her back is a set of nouliths. She grabs her tail almost like she’s scolding it.
Lizzy adjusts her glasses, “So what’s up? I heard someone shout for me, I’m assuming that was you?”
“Why, yes! I saw you’re teaching a new class next semester, so I wanted to ask you about it. I may sign up for it.”
“Oh! A-ah, well, you may or may not have heard, I got my archon mark recently. It’s in the field of Psychology. I’ve been called a pioneer, but that kind of makes me uncomfortable. Er, uh, it’s about the mind. Mental health, as it’s called. Ah, can we uh, keep walking? If I don’t make it to this meeting with Omi….”
“Are you sure it’s ok? I can do that.” she begins walking next to her, “So, mental health?”
Lizzy brightens up immediately, “Yea! So, there’s a lot of traumatized people in eorzea, right?”
“’Traumatized’?”
Lizzy stops for a second, and looks introspective for a moment, “Ok, right, new science. So, have you noticed that there’s an unusual amount of people that are sad? Or like, have you ever been speaking to someone and they suddenly lash out at you for no reason?” “Oh! Yea, especially when their intention wasn’t to hurt me, I found it odd.”
“So, these can be indicators of a troubled mental health. Depression is when people are so sad they can’t function normally or take care of themselves, traumatized people have perceived strange behaviours, but they are easily explained by examining the root cause of it, though sometimes there’s more complicated issues – That’s a lot to say, that Psychology is a study of the complexities of people’s minds.”
Krile’s echo gives her a bright surge of happiness and eagerness from Lizzy, “I see, that does sound interesting! You’ll be teaching it, personally, right?” Krile tries to hide a small amount of excitement. The idea of hearing Lizzy speak enthusiastically about something she enjoys for a length of time sounds absolutely delightful – at the very least, a better experience than feeling the dread and boredom from the teacher.
Lizzy stops walking for a moment, takes off her glasses and cleans them, Krile notices dark circles under her eyes, Lizzy smiles at Krile, “Yea, that’s actually why I’m going to a meeting right now – I’ve never taught anyone in a professional setting, so I’m hoping to learn from Omi.”
Krile senses good intentions, but… “Omi….Has a reputation around here, are you sure you want to learn from him?”
Lizzy nods enthusiastically, “He taught me how to be a black mage, so I know he’s a good teacher...Even if he’s a little…” she searches for the right words, “Well, you know.”
“I do indeed. Well, I think this has convinced me – I’ll be seeing you next semester, Archon Calaxio~” Krile cringes at her own attempt at flirting.
“Of course! It’ll be relieving to see a familiar face!” Lizzy beams a very bright smile at Krile.
Thankfully, it seems she’s immune to bad flirting. Krile decides to quickly leave before she embarrasses herself further. Though, she walks with a refreshed vigor and a light hum as she leaves.
----
The night before class starts, Krile has a dream. She’s trapped in a small box. She bangs on the walls, screaming until her voice goes hoarse. Her hands become bloodied and bruised from hitting the metal walls. She feels stabbing sensations at various parts of her body. She curls up, and begins to cry.
Suddenly, the box opens. A familiar spikey hair comes into view, retrieving her from the box. “Krile?!” The voice sounds desperate, scared. Her echo throbs, intense concern, mild relief, and...interest?
“Krile?! Are you ok?”
She feels a hug wrap around her.
Lizzy’s mouth near her ear, whispers, “I’m going to get you out of here. I’ll protect you.”
She wakes up, flustered. Sweating. Scared. Krile hesitates for a moment, then steels her nerves, and picks up a linkpearl.
“Hey…Lizzy?”
----
Lizzy sits at her desk, pouring over her books of psychology, her notes about teaching from Omikhle. Her forehead reddened from her hands being pressed against it. Suddenly, a linkpearl rings, startling Lizzy and spilling her coffee over her notes. “DAMN!”
She picks up her linkpearl, keeping her voice even. She hears from the other end, “Hey….Lizzy?”
“Krile? What’s up, is everything ok?”
Silence follows the question for a moment, “I...had a bad dream. It felt like...when I was trapped-” Lizzy stands up and gets herself another cup of coffee, “Oh no, do you want to talk about it?”
“No, not really...Can...Can you just tell me I’m safe?”
Lizzy stops mid-pour, “Of course.” she uses her calming magicks, hoping it works over the phone, “Everything is ok. You are safe, and secure. No one is trying to hurt you. I gave you this linkshell specifically in case you are in danger. I’ll drop everything to get to you. I told you when we rescued you, ‘I’ll protect you.’ and I mean it.”
More silence follows for another moment, her voice sounds more relaxed and even, “Thank you, Elizabeth. That really helps.”
“No need to thank me, I’m glad I could help. I never want you to hesitate to use this, ok? Do you wanna stay talking until you fall back asleep?”
“O-oh, no, I couldn’t! You gotta teach tomorrow.”
Lizzy crosses her arms, though the only one to see is Tango, “And you gotta learn tomorrow, I won’t let one of my students have her first day start on a bad note due to trauma based nightmares.”
“...Thank you, I...I’d like to talk until I fall asleep.”
----
Lizzy sits at her desk as students filter out of the classroom. There was a lot more people that decided to take her class than she expected. Though, she anticipates a number of them dropping the class. She sighs with relief, and slumps down further into her chair.
“I shall become a slime, I think.”
Lizzy closes her eyes.
“I think you’d be a very smart looking slime, then.” the voice interrupts her idle thoughts.
Lizzy’s eyes pop open, spying a familiar lalafell standing next to her, “Oh shit, uh, hey! You...were not supposed to hear that.” Lizzy nervously rubs the back of her neck.
Krile senses embarrassment, but places a coffee cup on the desk, “A present, for talking to me last night.”
Lizzy turns the cup, “’Sharlayan’s Best Psychologist’, it’s cute – I like the little lizzy face on it!”
Genuine happiness, Krile smiles, “Yay! I was worried you wouldn’t like it.”
Lizzy looks tired, “I love it, thank you, sincerely. Did you find the class interesting?”
Interest, mild concern, Krile reassures her, “I did! I’m surprised you fit so much information into the first class. You seemed to really enjoy speaking up here, though. It’s a bit surprising, considering your general attitude around the scions seems much quieter.”
Lizzy looks a little nervous, “Ah...I mean, This is an area I’m an expert in – and I like it a lot. I’m always scared of saying the wrong thing around the scions.”
“Well, I don’t think you should be too worried about that. You sounded brilliant, and I’d love to hear more of your….you...you talking about psychology!” Krile winces at the misstep.
Lizzy gives a gentle smile, “That’s very kind of you- oh! Lemme try the coffee, I was so distracted by the cup itself…” she takes a sip, and her eyes go wide, “OH! That’s absolutely delicious. This fucks!”
Sincere intent, Krile is taken aback by the exclamation, and laughs a little, “Well! I’m full glad you enjoy it! I’m...uh, gonna go to my next class now, I’ll see you tomorrow!” she waves as she runs off.
Lizzy sits at her desk enjoying her nice cup of coffee. Now drinking her 5th cup.
After a few moments, she perks up again, “OH SHIT I HAD A MEETING WITH OMI.” and she sprints off, trying to not spill her coffee.
----
The next day, as people shuffle into Lizzy’s class, Krile notices the cup she gave her sitting on her desk – steam still coming off the surface of the coffee inside. Her mood brightens immediately, and she waves at Lizzy after she sits down. Lizzy in turn notices Krile, smiles and waves, and takes a sip of her coffee. Krile suddenly feels a flash of romantic interest towards her, causing her to smile more to herself. Playfully kicking her feet as she listens to Lizzy speak.
After class, Krile once again walks up to Lizzy’s desk, “Helloo~!”
Lizzy, mid-sip of coffee, holds up one finger to indicate that she needs a second, after she finishes, “Hey Krile! How are you today?”
“Wonderful! I got some very good news today.” she smiles at Lizzy.
Lizzy tilts her head inquisitively, “Oh? What news?” Krile winks and holds a finger in front of her mouth, “Ah, it’s a secret, can’t tell.”
Lizzy gives an exaggerated frown, “Aw, nothing’s worse than a secret I can’t know!”
“Don’t fret, don’t fret, I’m sure at some point I’ll be able to tell you.”
Lizzy goes back to drinking her coffee, before asking, “Still enjoying the class? Today was a bit more dense, and I’m scared I may have turned some people off from the class…” Krile moves closer to Lizzy and rubs her back, “Oh, I don’t think it was that bad. I enjoyed it quite a bit, actually! The part about uhm...How breaking a bad cycle involves actually starting new habits to build new...neural pathways?”
Lizzy gives a weak smile, and gently rests her head on Krile’s head, “Thanks, at least someone paid attention. One person in the back straight up fell asleep.” she unconsciously starts rubbing her horn against Krile’s hood ears.
Krile suddenly recalls a passage she read about Au Ra and horn rubbing, and gets flustered, “M-maybe they just needed some coffee,” she gives a nervous chuckle.
Lizzy picks her head up, causing Krile to give a small internal ‘Noooo’, “Maybe so. I don’t wanna keep you from other classes, though. Thank you for the reassurance, regardless.”
Krile nods, and waves as she walks off.
After she leaves the room, Lizzy’s forehead smacks her desk, loudly, and groans, “I’m such a dork.”
Krile chuckles a little outside the door.
28 notes · View notes
idolatrybarbie · 1 year
Text
odd couple
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pairing: established francisco "frankie" morales x reader
word count: 2.5k
rating & summary: explicit, mdni! | frankie can't cook, to put it lightly.
tags: no trigger warnings needed for this one, porn with (little) plot, rated e like woah, frankie needs a win, very unedited as of initial posting, stubborn!frankie, premature ejaculation, handjobs, cumplay, overstimulation, sub!frankie moments, multiple orgasms, spit kink/drooling, #petnames4frankie, praise kink, slight dacryphilia, reader calls frankie "wet" in this idk that might not be your thing i guess. look man it's been a hard week.
notes: it's not wednesday and i am struggling a lil' bit (might make a personal life update soon idk ?) but i am being such a brave little toaster about it! writing this definitely made me feel better. when it comes to music, this weezer song is a little generic within their discography but whatever, i like it. hope you enjoy! also everyone go read @wannab-urs sub!max phillips fic because i say so and it's awesome.
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You listen to Frankie move around the kitchen from your spot on the couch, trying your very best to ignore the occasional clang and clattering noise that flows out from the distant doorway. Tonight, he has taken on the task of making the two of you dinner. Or trying to, anyway. You don’t cook much either. Your job, like his, doesn’t lend much time to it. Takeout is more than often what’s on the menu—Burger King, of all things, is his favourite.
You know how to cook though. Every once in a while you have the spare time to whip together something truly delicious; slow-roasted pork belly, or maybe a nice pasta with garnish. Frankie doesn’t seem to know his ass from the oven.
The two of you have had this conversation hundreds of times. You stating that he can’t cook, and him pushing back, insisting that he can. Or he could, before the service stuck him with single meal MREs for a number of years and he lost most of the culinary knowledge given to him by various tías, his abuela, and of course Mrs. Morales herself.
His stubbornness spurs the occasional urge to throttle him. It’s fine you can’t cook, you always tell him. Not like he can’t still learn. Still, he insists, and insists on insisting on top of that.
Honestly, you couldn’t be more of opposites. Even excluding skills of domestic labour, he and you are a bit of an odd couple. Frankie’s an early mornings guy, always, while you enjoy a sleepy Sunday—or just about any day that ends in Y. He hates the horror movies you fawn over, while you can’t stand the nature documentaries and sappy celebrity biopics that he eats up year over year. Frankie is highly detail-oriented, the engineer instinct in him always angling towards rigid preparedness; you’re a bit more goal-focused, letting any plan morph and adjust according to the situation.
Another such cooking conversation had taken place on the drive home after declining Frankie’s offer of McDonald’s for the fourth night this week, and now here you are: listening to the man curse under his breath, muttering complaints from the kitchen as he tries his hand at homemade spaghetti.
The kitchen is silent for a moment. You go back to channel surfing, clicking past reruns of Golden Girls and M*A*S*H*. Stopping at a channel playing the cinematic masterpiece Grease 2, you focus your attention on the open doorway behind you again. It feels almost too quiet…
A string of hushed, panicked curses from Frankie confirms your suspicions. Getting off the couch, you use the soft overhead light to guide you through the dark apartment. Frankie is standing over the stove when you see him, quickly moving away and towards the sink. Water splashes into it, surely scalding as steam rises into the air. Or maybe that’s coming from his ears?
You clear your throat in the kitchen doorway, and Frankie turns to you. His face is slightly red, a silver pot held in his grip by the towel-covered handle.
“Is everything okay?” You already know the answer to that question—aggravation rolls off of him in waves, permeating the space between the two of you like a mirage in the Mojave Desert.
Frankie opens his mouth to respond, but the words never come. He does this a few times, wracking his brain for the proper way to put it as he parts and pleats his lips, living up to his call sign.
Eventually, he settles on, “No.”
He heaves a deep sigh, tossing the pot onto the counter. Getting a closer look at it, you see the charred spaghetti noodles stuck to the shiny bottom.
“Don’t, okay?” Frankie says before you look up again.
“What?”
“I know what you’re gonna say. I told you so, blah blah blah. I know. You’re right. I can’t fuckin’ cook.” The words are rushed, like he’s half-embarrassed to even say it.
You frown, reaching an open palm out to him as you shake your head. “That’s not what I was going to say.” You motion for him to come closer and he does, slipping into your arms as you hug at his tense shoulders. “It’s okay. You can take a class, or we can work on it together. I think that’d be kind of fun,” you say.
Picturing making something with Frankie—maybe bowties and broccoli, something simple—has you smiling into his shoulder. For his birthday last year you made red velvet cupcakes with sour cream frosting. The recipe is a little more complicated, but baking them with him this time is a pleasant idea. You already know he’s the type of person to lick the batter off the beater.
“I don’t want to do that to you,” he says.
You pull back from the hug to look at him, those big brown eyes of his crinkled at the far edges. “You’re not doing anything to me,” you say. “At least, not right now.”
A small smile comes to his face then, creeping and dopey before Frankie gives you a soft kiss at the tip of your nose.
“They should really give you a Netflix special or something,” he says.
“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all night,” you muse.
Still in your arms, Frankie glances over at the pot of blackened, noodle-shaped mush. “What are we gonna do for dinner?”
Right now, he’s in the closest proximity to you that he’s been all week. At least, while you’ve both been conscious. Work has you staying later and later at the office these days, while his shifts handling flight operations have him drained, in bed and fast asleep well before you even get home. Tonight is special even if it hasn’t gone the way either of you planned.
You hum, dipping your head to nose at the patchy beard along his jaw. “I’m thinking we skip dinner.”
“Come on, seriously,” Frankie says.
“I am serious.” Leaving a wet kiss on his cheek, you whisper, “Don’t you want your dessert, Francisco?”
A hum rumbles low in his chest. “Of course, but—”
“But nothing.” You move your left hand to cradle the side of his face, his skin smooth under your touch. He leans into its warmth. “I’m hungry.”
You know that he is too. At your words, Frankie practically jumps you, a kiss pressed to your lips hard before your brain can catch up with what’s happening. He holds you in his arms tight, like if he loosens his grip even a bit, you’ll float away. The pair of you move out of the kitchen and back into the living room, the horrible 80’s movie still dancing across the pixels of the TV.
Frankie falls onto his back, bouncing against the couch cushions. The remote is underneath him, the mute button conveniently hit upon his landing. The cheesy show tunes cut out immediately. You move to straddle him as he lays horizontal. Frankie cranes his neck a bit to watch you as you settle over the crotch of his sweatpants. He’s half hard under the fabric already.
Frankie pulls you down into another bruising kiss. You hunch over to meet his lips, his hands circling around your waist. You’ve decided to take the Frankie approach to tonight’s activities; cool and calculated in your plans and decisions on how this is going to go. Grinding your hips down, you watch his face carefully. He huffs out a breath, soft and peppery like the cinnamon gum he keeps in his car.
You reach between your bodies to feel him in his pants. Frankie kisses at your face, quick and sporadic as you palm at him. He moves to lift your shirt off your body and you let him, raising your arms to help him. He tosses the thing to the floor and lets his hands rove over your skin. Continuing your ministrations, you slip your hand beneath the elastic waistband of the grey sweats. Frankie has no underwear on, a pleasant surprise.
“Fuck,” he groans, nosing at your neck.
“What’s wrong, honey bun? Doesn’t that feel good?” you ask, slowly pulling your hand away.
“Yes, please. Do it again?” His voice strains deliciously, the muscles in his arms held taut.
Frankie relaxes only slightly when you return your palm to where he’s hot and achy, cock wet at the tip. You run your thumb along the head of his dick as he pushes his hips up into your touch. You slide the pad of your finger along his shaft, spreading the dampness.
“Aw baby, you’re already a little wet. Isn’t that sweet?”
You start to stroke him in earnest, the tight circle of your hand moving up and down his cock. The movement is a little dry, your skin dragging against the sensitive velvet of him. You push his shirt up his belly, pulling his pants to his knees easily. Then you spit into your palm, jerking him off easier this time.
“Fuck baby. Just like that,” Frankie pants. He’s moving his hips with your hand now, fucking up into it on every down stroke. With your free hand, you prod at the small dip at his hip, feeling the muscle tense beneath the skin.
“Bet you feel so good, baby. Nice and easy for me,” you coo.
“Don’t stop,” he whispers.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, honey.”
You twist your hand at the end of every movement upwards, fingers rubbing over Frankie’s tip as he leaks steadily onto himself. The glide is easy now, lubed with your saliva and his precum. The squelch makes your mouth water as you watch his cock disappear and reappear in the shadow of your fingers.
He puts one of his hands over yours, urging you to go faster. Your hands move together over Frankie’s dick, picking up the pace as the sticky noise turns into a slap with every thrust of his hips.
Frankie breaks pace, stuttering on a caught breath before he spills over your hand and onto his belly. You pause to watch his chest tense and then loosen, his eyes shut tight as he comes down. Raising your hand to your lips, you lick a bit of his cum from the edge of your fingers. It’s the first thing Frankie sees when he opens his eyes again, making him groan. The noise sounds almost painful.
“That was—”
“Amazing?” you supply.
Frankie wheezes a laugh. “Something like that.”
“What about a second helping?”
He furrows his brow, then looks down at his dick. It lays limp and spent on his stomach. “I don’t—”
“Please,” you implore oh-so-sweetly. Frankie sees big eyes batting at him, a twinkle of adoration. The intent behind it is a little more Kubrick, but he doesn’t know that yet.
He can’t say no to you, doesn’t want to anyway. Frankie nods, mumbling a yes at you. His cock twitches with interest when you drag a finger through the pool of cum on his belly and pop it in your mouth. You smile at Frankie as you take him in your hand, strokes slow as he hardens again.
Leaning into his body, you flick your tongue against the shell of his ear. “So, so wet honey. This all for me?”
“Yeah, shit—I can’t,” he mumbles.
“But it feels so good,” you say. “Wish you could see your cute little face. I love seeing you like this.”
Frankie’s face waivers between tightly wound and relaxed in pleasure. You’re using his own cum as lube now, hand practically sloshing across his cock. He tries to keep his eyes open, watching your movements as you sit patiently in his lap, jerking him off.
Your underwear is ruined, the cotton soaked through as you discreetly rock yourself against the rough seam of your pants. You’ll take care of yourself later. Right now, all of your attention is on Frankie. This reward is his punishment. It’s the slightest bit petty, but you can’t let his stubborn behaviour go quite yet. You aren’t an I told you so type of person, but this? This is perfect.
You stroke at him on autopilot, watching the middle distance between the fine thatch of hair at Frankie’s pelvis and his skin coated milky white. He comes with a flinch before you even realize, still moving as he hisses. He’s still hard when he’s done, solid under your touch, so you continue.
“You’re doing so good for me,” you say softly.
“Oh god,” he whines, eyes rolling back.
“Does it hurt baby?”
Frankie doesn’t speak, can’t, nodding frantically up at you.
“You want me to stop? All you have to do is tell me.”
He doesn’t—not with words or the shake of his head. He likes this, and both of you know it. Frankie gets off on the pain, a pleasure so hot that it burns; water blazing to the point that the sensation runs cold, delicate skin held close over a candle flame.
Frankie starts to squirm. You hold him down by the shoulder with your free hand, fingers spread over his overheated skin with a firm press. His whole body is sweaty, soaking a runway down the front top half of his t-shirt.
“Please, please, please.”
He breathes your name, barely getting the syllables past his lips. You never find out what he’s begging for. He probably doesn’t quite know either.
His dick and his mind can’t seem to agree on what they want. You watch this war play out, a losing battle. Every few seconds he presses his hips to the couch, trying to stay out of your reach. Then he slots his hips forward again, seeking out your hand directly.
Finally, Frankie seems to find his words. “Fuck, please. I can’t, I can’t. I’ve got no more, baby, please.”
“One more, honey. You can do that, can’t you? Just one.”
“Mm, shit. It’s—it hurts. It hurts,” he says.
“I know, baby. You’re so sweet for me, so good. I know you can do it,” you assure him.
Leaning down, you position your mouth over him. You let the spit sitting in your mouth pour past your lips, drooling onto his throbbing cock. The saliva slides down his length slowly as Frankie moans at the sensation.
The added slick makes everything wetter, truly soaking as you jerk him off faster. Frankie starts to babble nonsense between short, tripping moans. A split-second decision, you breathe hot air over the head of his dick. The slightest change in contact pulls his third orgasm of the night from him. Frankie cries, groaning loud as fat, wet tears roll down his cheeks. You hunch over him to give his face a kitten lick, collecting them with your tongue.
You let him go when he finishes coming, letting his dick flop against the plush of his tummy. Dragging your own shirt off the floor, you wipe at his skin and clean up your hands before tossing it back down.
Frankie finds the strength to tuck himself back into his sweatpants. He pulls at your elbow, sending you crashing gently into his side on the couch. It isn’t really big enough for the both of you to lay down. You squish yourself against his chest and shoulder, feeling his arm rest over the length of your back.
“How was that?” you ask after a while.
“A five course meal and then some,” he says. Frankie scoffs at himself, like he can’t believe what just happened. “Jesus Christ.”
You kiss his chest through his shirt, his body warm and solid against your cheek. “Nope, just me.”
101 notes · View notes
fruitsoxs · 1 year
Text
midnight munchies
sometimes getting high with your crush ends in success
pairings: Modern!wolfwood x AFAB!reader warnings: !nsfw minors dni!, smut, making out, fluff, kinda mentions being high (doesn't go into much detail about that), cunnilingus, fingering, adam sandler notes: this went a bit out of my control lol- i may or may not have a part 2 in the works. also i have like a bunch of headcannons for my modern wolfwood in this fic if anyone wants them-- word count: 2.2k words
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“Remind me again why we can’t grab all these snacks?” The gravelly voice of your dearest friend Nicholas D Wolfwood asks, grabbing a few bags of chips from your kitchen. You sigh and shoot him a look. “Because I get the munchies and literally cannot control myself when I’m high.” You reply as the microwave beeps lightly. You pop open the door and grab the popcorn with a smile. Nic sets a bowl down next to you, and you give him a quiet thank you, before pouring the warm snack into the bowl.
It’s movie night - a now weekly tradition the two of you have developed. A night where you pick out a terrible movie, get high, and just hang out. 
You’ve only been friends with Nic for about a month now, after meeting on the balcony at some party you didn’t want to go to. It’s crazy how immediately the two of you clicked. And instead of making out and never talking again, you held yourself back from kissing this insanely attractive man and got his number instead. To be friends. 
Now the two of you are basically inseparable. Texting constantly, always hanging out during your free time, and basically becoming the ultimate pair of best buds. And although that relationship is great, you can’t help but long to be something more…intimate. You thought he was attractive the moment you saw him with his messy dark hair, and tan skin. He’s like straight out of a TV show. As you got to know him more though, you couldn’t help but just keep falling. He’s funny, nice, a bit of a loser, and he is really good with kids. He’s like a dream guy! 
Even now, as you sit next to him on your shitty ass couch, you can’t help feel your heart flutter within your ribs. The way he leans back, and puts his arm across the back of the couch- almost around your shoulders. The way he throws a chip in the air and catches it with his mouth so casually- his light chuckle as something funny happens in the movie. It’s all so perfect. 
You’re not even paying attention to the movie at this point, eyes focused on him with this small smile. You’re sure you look absolutely in love, but he’s not even paying attention to you.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I miss Adam Sandler.” 
His eyes are hyper focused on the movie (Hotel Transylvania 4). You’re a little confused on why he’s actually invested in this movie, but he’s cute so whatever. His smile starts to widen, and his eyes glance over to you, as if he’s waiting for you to answer. 
“He’s not in this one?” You ask, turning your head to the screen with a slight blush. “How can you not tell?” Nic asks, laughing softly. 
“Oh I’m sorry I’m not an Adam Sandler expert like you.”
He laughs again, throwing his head back. He’s so cute. You break out into a little giggle of your own, and join him in what feels like a non-stop laugh session. Yeah- the effects are starting to hit you now for sure. As soon as you can catch your breath you cool down, and with a happy sigh you lean over resting your head on his shoulder.
He smiles when your head hits his shoulder and looks down at you. “This is kinda cute, you know.” He mumbles softly, only loud enough for you to barely hear it. Your cheeks turn a bit pink, and you let your thoughts inside your head flow through your lips without even thinking. “You’re kinda cute, you know.” you huff.
He smiles softly at the words, his eyes lighting up. “What was that?” He asks, an amused tone to his voice. “You gotta be louder than that.” He chuckles, flashing you a coy grin, before turning back to the movie.
“I said you’re kinda cute.” You repeat, this time louder. Suddenly you’re feeling a little brave. There’s an almost permanent smile on your lips, even as your heart thumps softly in your chest. Nic’s breathing stops for a moment, before his chest erupts into a light chuckle. He lowers his arms around your shoulders, and pulls you into his side. You can feel the vibrations in his chest from the laughter, and smell the smoke on his clothes. 
He angles his head down to look at you. “Aww thank you darlin~” You can feel his breath against your face and it makes your heartbeat pick up. He looks at your relaxed expression and chuckles again. “Is it hitting you already?” He asks, his hand squeezing your shoulder softly. “You really are so cute…”
You make no effort to push yourself away, but hide your face a bit. “Don’t make fun of me like that I might actually explode.” You mumble, flustered beyond all belief. He puts his fingers under your chin, and lifts your face up so it’s facing his. 
“Adorable…” His hand drops, but you stay looking up at him. His tone is soft, but there’s a hint of amusement on his face.  “If I tell you a secret, will you promise me you won’t tell anyone?” he lowers his tone to a light whisper, leaning in closer so his lips graze your cheek. “Just between us?”
“I promise.” You mumble oh so softly, taking in his scent. Your eyes are a little wide, staring up at him with red cheeks. This feels intimate. 
“Okay…I think I like you.” He whispers, his tone so soft. “It’s dumb and cheesy I know, but I just…” he trails off with a sheepish smile. “Wanted to be honest with you. I mean we just smoked together, and I’m a little bit stoned, and you’re cute and this just feels right to tell you how I feel about you.” He rambles, lifting his head away a bit so you can see that he is serious.
It hits you hard. Really hard. He likes you too. You should kiss him, or tell him you feel the same way. Instead though, you give a little dramatic gasp. “This is crazy, but I…” you trail off, your teasing tone becoming more serious as your voice drops down an octave. “I think I like you too.” And when you say those words, they come out serious. You’re being honest.
His eyes widen, and it looks like he’s letting the news settle before he leans in more. “How much?” he asks with a tiny, playful smile. You lean forward and press a soft kiss to his lips, closing your eyes as you do. It’s a small kiss, and before he can kiss back you pull away. “That much.” 
In an instant he sweeps you up into his arms and pulls you onto his lap, his lips connecting with yours again. It’s a heated kiss, one filled with passion. He pulls you against him, and you have to hold back a whine as you rub against him softly. His tongue swipes against your lips, and as soon as you part them he’s shoving his tongue right into your mouth. He takes a little while to explore every inch he can, before he pulls away. It leaves both of you panting. 
“Wow.” Is all you can say, dazed from whatever that was. Nic doesn’t seem to be doing much better, nodding with a smile. “That was…really nice.” He agrees. “We should….keep doing that.” You mumble.
You both lean in for the kiss, picking back up where you stopped. Your hands rush to his hair as your lips move in sync. He puts his hands on your  waist, squeezing your body softly. He pulls away from the kiss, and pushes his lips against your neck. He trails kisses down, nibbling and sucking slightly. “N-Nic-” you moan and grind down slightly. He gasps at the pressure and lets out an honest to god whimper. “F-Fuck darlin’- you’re driving me crazy.” he mumbles against your skin.
You whisper a curse, your body heating up at the little nickname he calls you. “I love when you call me that.” You murmur. You feel him smile against your neck, and his lips leave your skin as he pulls back. “Oh is that so?” I guess I have to keep calling you that then, Darlin’~” He chuckles, watching your reaction. He must like it, because the next thing he does is lean down next to your ear. “Does it just make you melt?”
You let out a shaky moan, and his laughter vibrates against your ear. “You fucking tease.” You shoot at him with feign anger. He pulls away from your ear and instead presses his lips to yours again. A sweet little apology kiss. You grab onto his face and deepen it again.
It turns into a lazy open mouthed kiss soon enough, his tongue twirling around yours as soft moans leave your throat. As you pull away you bite his lip softly which causes him to grunt. Next thing you know you’re being flipped onto your back with him hovering over you. His lips are on yours again, and he trails his hand up your shirt. His hand is warm, and calloused. The skin to skin contact sends a shiver down your spine.
He slowly pushes his hand up further, cupping your breast, massaging it through your bra. You whimper against his lips, and in return he moves his hand to your other breast and gives it some attention as well. The feeling goes straight down, and you buck your hips up in a desperate attempt for some friction. 
He hums, and starts moving his lips down. He places phantom kisses over your clothed nipples, and keeps moving down. Your eyes widen at the realization of where this is going. His fingers dig into the waistband of your bottoms, and he pulls them off quickly. Now completely bare- he stares down at your exposed pussy. His pupils dilate with a hunger you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. He flicks his eyes back up to your face. “This okay?” He asks- voice soft.
You nod, but he doesn’t move. “I need a yes darlin’.” He mumbles. You can tell he’s excited, especially with the way his fingers dig into your thighs, but he’s still taking the time to make sure you’re alright. Cute.
“Y-Yes.” You manage to get out- despite being helplessly speechless by the situation. At your consent, his fingers trails down your stomach. Your breath hitches in your throat as he takes two fingers and dips them slowly through your folds. “So wet for me, and I’ve barely done anything…” He trails off, smirking as you twitch below him.
“I can’t wait to taste you.” He growls softly, lifting your legs into the air. He starts trailing kisses down your thighs, lowering his head between your legs. It takes everything within you not to scream at him to hurry the fuck up. He bites the inside of your thigh ever so softly, before his face hovers your cunt.
His eyes meet yours and he smirks before letting out a warm breath against you. You whine and try to lift your hips up to meet his face, but he’s holding you down. “Now, have some patience. I promise you it will be worth it.” He coos, softly.
The noise you let out must tell him how desperate you are, because right after he chuckles and licks up your folds, never breaking eye contact. 
“Nicholas- oh my god!” You arch your back up and cry out. He smiles and slowly inserts a finger into you, soon joined another. “Let me hear all those pretty noises.” His mouth moves against your cunt. You sob out his name again, and he presses his tongue against your clit.
He licks and sucks at the sensitive bud, while his fingers curl inside of you. The noises you let out are loud, and rather sinful. You’re not sure if your neighbors are appreciating the symphony of lewd screams as much as Nic is- but you honestly don’t care much right now. Your hands drop to his head, gripping onto his hair as he eats you out. 
He moves his fingers in a certain way that has your toes curling, and it becomes clear that you’re already close to the end. “Nic I’m close-” You warn breathlessly.
He speeds up his fingers in response, mumbling praise against your folds. It’s enough to send you over the edge- and the orgasm hits you fast. 
“FUCK- I’m coming- oh god I’m-” You squeeze your eyes close as you yell out for him. The pleasure waves through you, causing your body to jerk around a bit. He works you through your climax, lapping up everything that flows out of you like a starved man.
You fall slack against the couch as he sits back up, wiping his face. He’s got this lazy, satisfied smile on his lips as he looks down at you. 
You reach your hand out to his dick, still trapped in his pants but he shakes his head. “Tonight is all about you.” He mumbles, grabbing your hand to intervene. He brings your palm up to his lips, and kisses it softly. He pulls you up and has you sit with your face rested against his chest. He wraps an arm around you lazily, and goes back to the movie.
“Hey Nic?”
“Yeah?”
“I thought I was the one who got the munchies while high”
“Shut up.”
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eliecasa · 1 year
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summary: simon has had it up to ⬆️ here with y/n and johnny’s PDA. the two can’t just ever kiss and leave it innocent.
warnings: obv a little tangy :>
wrdcnt: 1.8K
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Simon Riley had a lengthy list of reasons as to why he’d never visit your and Johnny’s house once everyone had a break from missions and assignments given by other nations in need.
If not all of them, the majority of them lacked the seriousness that he often appeared to possess. One of those petty reasons read: ‘Y/N likes the smell of lavender too much’, while another read something such as: ‘Food poisoning is imminent. Lack of cooking skill from both’ though the second part was merely an assumption due to the mere fact that he’d never eaten any of your food before.
Those two reasons didn’t mean too much and Simon would agree and still visit often regardless of the judgment. However, the reason sitting at #1 would probably make him come over only on holidays due to the suffering that he suffers when seeing it.
Reason number one: ‘Too fuckin’ randy’— or in American terms: ‘Too damn horny’.
And here you are, proving his point.
You would think that after nearly getting your legs blown off, one would be rather deterred and rattled. Whereas here, Johnny couldn’t be any deeper within your mouth, totally disregarding the fact that Ghost was standing with a bandage in hand, trying to patiently wait to wrap it around the man who’d just been shot.
“Alright,” he says, more so meant as a ‘Stop’
Still, to no avail as he adverted his eyes to avoid the sight of Johnny taking your ass in handfuls.
Simon was understanding that you were beyond worried after Gray’s betrayal caused your man to get shot but to an extent, the pair were just a bit too callous about their surroundings. It’s not like the area had been checked since they’d only agreed to rendezvous here and the only person not sucking face was forced to keep looking over his shoulders every three seconds.
A rather submissive noise slipped from your lips, causing Simon to full on grumble in annoyance before he madly cursed up a storm.
Nobody knew what Simon was on about when he complained about it the first one billion times but they were rudely awakened once your wedding day came.
That’s right, as shameless as ever, they were.
He can vividly recall the looks on the faces of attendees while the two of you were basically molding yourselves into one single body, feverishly kissing like there was no tomorrow.
Whilst your parents were somewhere in the house and hidden, he and Johnny knew that you’d only forced them to go inside just so that you wouldn’t have to hold back any lust that seemed to flow through your blood like a virus.
He had to wonder what made Johnny look like a piece of fresh meat in your eyes but today, he found himself wondering no more and decided to put a stop to it!
“You have a lovely home, Simon,” you marvel in awe, stepping inside with your hand wrapped around Johnny’s.
“The cabin look really is cozy,” He agreed, smiling and taking in the wide interior of the home.
Simon, quiet and moody, stood with a list in his left hand while the other held a half-empty beer. The handwriting on the note is rather nice and written in-between the wide ruled blue lines, showing just how serious he was about this.
Johnny is first to see it, even chuckling as he points to it and asks, “Whatcha got there, Simon?”
“Rules,” he affirms, mean eyes staring at you as he handed the list to Johnny.
A small smile spreads across your lips as you leaned into Johnny, reading the list alongside him.
The new house rules aren’t too strict and turned out to be fair.
1. Wipe your feet on the mat.
2. Don’t drink my beer.
3. Keep your feet off my tables
Before reading four, your lips find the stubble of your husband's jaw. The chaste kiss doesn’t stop there and even inched up to his ear before Simon snapped his fingers.
“That there, not in here.”
Johnny pointed to the fourth rule listed, sparing you a feigned look of cringe as he read aloud, “You broke the ‘No kissing if your name is y/n or Johnny’ rule.”
You blink, looking at Simon with an offended look on your face.
“Wow, and to think you were a friend.”
“Do it at your house, keep the air fresh here,” he said, walking off and sipping from a Budweiser that he’d been nursing over the afternoon.
In your mind, Simon was being too ignorant of the fact that this was the rain after a drought. It was so normal for soldiers to come home and love their person more than ever but in this case, it was two soldiers who couldn’t find any time together thanks to the hellish assignments brought upon them.
He needed to understand that you were partaking in a much calmer version of the baby boom.
Pleading, you elbow Johnny only for him to meekly raise his hands in surrender.
“Hey, his house, his rules.”
3 hours elapsed, 23:34
Joy was just coursing through you like electricity just because the three of you were lookin’ like best friends again. The two had their beer and their occasional banter whilst you begged for caramel candies sitting in the middle of the coffee table which Simon kept telling you no despite Johnny giving them to you anyway. All was tranquil while they watched football (Non USA) but you suddenly stand up from the couch and turned to Simon with a rather strained look on your face.
"Where's your bathroom?"
He gave Johnny a calculated look before pointing down the hall, "It's the only door left open, you shouldn't get too lost."
You silently thank him and dash down the hall, trying to hide the fact that you’d maybe been holding it for an hour just so that you wouldn’t have to get up.
Johnny watched you hurry down the corridor before mindlessly turning back to the television, which didn’t last too long due to a semi-aggressive punch that Simon landed on his shoulder.
The scottish man gawked at him with wide and glossy eyes, thanks to the multiple beers that he’s had. His lips open to either swear or to let out a sound of pain but Simon is quicker, shaking his head at him as he spoke.
“I know what you’re doing.”
Johnny immediately laughed and sat his now-empty beer bottle down on the table.
“What are you talking about, mate?”
Simon doesn’t say anything and instead shook his head, turning back to watch France once again score against Croatia. Very few beats of silence pass before Johnny hit him back and asked, “Hey, can I have another beer?”
“Five pounds and maybe you can,” Simon nodded at the five empty bottles that Johnny had already swallowed down.
“Oh buddy, you’re such a jokester sometimes. Be back in a sec,” Johnny laughed, tipsy and totally disregarding Simon’s warning of “You’d better not.”
Still, he made a small hum of acknowledgment before going to get another one anyway.
Once his friend is out of sight, Simon looked down at his beer and wondered if he looked silly enough for his friends to not listen to a word he’d said since getting off of active dirty.
Back in Simon’s new and shiny bathroom, you stood at the sink and lathered your hands in the vanilla scented soap not once, but twice because how would he know that you were the one using up all of his nice soap?
And just because he won’t find out by himself, you’ll make sure to tell him just to see the pissed off look on his face when you got back. You even try to mimic the frown of his brow in the mirror but a flash of dark hair passed through the hall, crossing the threshold of the bathroom without as much as a glance.
And knowing that hair anywhere, you giggle and peak your head out into the hall and call his name.
“Johnny? You know the bathrooms here, right?”
A few quiet moments pass before Johnny backtracks by literally walking backwards in the hallway before stopping to stand right in front of you. The crows feet at the corner of his eyes has you smiling wider than he was— even without the alcoholic influence. You can only imagine him getting cuter with age.
“Right, because I was looking for you.”
He settled his hand on the frame, causing the taught and solid muscles of his arm to pop with a teasing emphasis that dares you to break rule #4. Something tells you that he was in-fact not looking for you but the possibility is quickly ruled out by the look in his icy, intense, and refreshing look in his eye. The gaze sent your figure a chill as it brought you to become freshly aware of the aura surrounding the two of you.
The bathroom is dimly lit with shadows casted across the bend of the walls whilst a light hum came from the massive lights in the bathroom ceiling. Johnny couldn’t help but step past the invisible threshold barrier, tugging your body into his by pressing his palm right on the curve of your back where two of his favorite dimples would be.
You’re illegally close to each other, smiling faces inches apart. Johnny didn’t need to take a breathalyzer test to tell you that he was tipsy. It was in the way his smile worked more like a smirk, making him look all the sexier when he shouldn’t, and it was also in the heaviness of his heart beating against your chest. The area rumbles in a hearty chuckle after placing a loving kiss on your warm cheek.
“Simon said we can't kiss in his house, but he didn't say anything about the bathroom,” he dares, his voice just carefully balancing humor and lust.
You tilt your head, looking somewhat cheeky whilst you awe at the innuendo, the lower pit of your belly getting warmer by the second.
“Oh, you sneaky guy. What if he catches us?”
He smirks as if you were testing him.
“He’ll go easy on us, won’t he?”
But before you can fix your lips to answer Johnny gently cupped the area underneath your ear and tugged your parted lips in a passionate kiss that took your breath away. It’s quick to escalate into a small stumble of moving back and forward as the two fight for the upper hand. And to win this fight, his strong and finely built arms lock together behind your back to trap you in his heated embrace. The strong and aggressive feeling feeling hands coming down to grasp greedy portions of your ass caused a rather loud noise to come through your lips. The intensity of the kiss can go no more after you’d slipped your hands to grasp at the chiseled columns of his belly, trying to get even without totally disrespecting Simon’s wishes.
Johnny is so lost in your taste that you have to literally pull your head back to release your lips from his, only to instantly come back in for another suave caress of his tongue which stopped to turn into a small bite of your bottom lip. The heat was dizzying and nearly making you nauseous from the overflow of adrenaline.
And just as a hand came to pull your thigh around his waist, a different and hefty hand slapped onto Johnny’s shoulder with not the slightest of strength being spared in the process.
This time, you don’t even have to tug your head back— thanks Simon Riley pulling him off while standing in the doorway with… both of your jackets in hand.
Dark eyes lifelessly watch as the two of you separate to adjust your clothing.
“Couldn't contain yourselves for one bloody night, could you?”
“You didn’t say the bathroom, to be fair,” you said, shrugging and scratching the back of your head whilst looking at the shiny tile underneath your shoes.
Your husband standing next to you playfully punched Simon’s shoulder.
“C'mon, mate. It's just a kiss.”
Simon looked between the two of you for just a moment before tossing the jackets to Johnny without warning.
“Get your coats and get out. I don't care where you go, but I don't want you two snogging in every corner of my house,” and he walked off.
Y/N rolled their eyes before taking Johnny by the hand and making a hand puppet out of Simon and making it say, “I’m a vibe killer and I hate seeing love~”
“I heard that.”
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