#leggings are essential. they need to be ripped up

[vitalfluidz]

picking out cute outfits to wear for when he chases you through the woods <3

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 4: Midnight Snack

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

3.5K words

Warning/Notes: Soap x Reader, oral sex (m receiving), hair pulling, messy make out

This is the video from where the photo is, if you haven't seen it, You have to and if you have already, you are welcome.

The drive back to base seems neverending. 

Once Price and Ghost managed to get you to stop crying and to breathe normally. The three of you pack the essentials, and by that, I mean you were hugged to Ghost like a koala while Price got what he could save from your house into a bag pack. 

Most of your clothes were ripped or cut, so in the end, only some pieces of underwear, a couple of shirts, some pants and the pyjamas you were wearing were safe. Plus your jacket and shoes that were behind the door. 

And that is how you found yourself now. Sobbing, sitting in the middle of the back seat, bag pack on your lap, Simon’s hand on your knee from the passenger seat as Price drives.

“Tomorrow morning, you are going to call your job, and tell them that you are going to take a couple of days off, okay?” Price asks looking at you through the rearview mirror. “And we will take everything you need, we will buy clothes, find you a better place to stay, anything you need.”

You shake your head feeling the tears come back and you hide your face behind your hands as you start to cry again. “I can't.” You cry. “What can't you do?” Simon asks turning his head to look at you.

“Miss more work days, I have already taken too many. I can't afford to lose more.” You mumble whining out of mental exhaustion.

“Hey, stop. Don't get carried away, alright?” Simon says rubbing your thigh. “Let's not think about that right now, tomorrow tell your boss the situation. Tell them that your house was broken into, that you need a couple of days to get everything in order. Depending on what your boss says, we'll work from there. Alright, birdie?”

You nod weakly as you focus on taking deep breaths. When you finally arrive, both men get out of the car and Price opens the door for you. You step out still holding your bag tight, either men try to take it from your hands and walk along between both men. 

Their hands find their way to your back, Price to the bottom and Simon to the top, reassuring shielding you from the chilly breeze of the night. 

“How about a cuppa?” Simon asks looking at you, a smile visible in his eyes, and you can't help it but to give him a weak smile back nodding. “Then, we will find you a room so you can sleep as much as you want.” 

Sleep does sound amazing, taking into consideration that last night you had little sleep and you have been on the move ever since. 

Price and Simon walk you to a lousy room, many recruits sitting together. The mess hall, you figure. In the middle of the room, there are a couple of sofas, and you quickly recognise Soap and Gaz, sprawled together in one of them looking at Gaz's phone. 

Most of the soldiers that are finishing their dinner, or just enjoying each other company before going to bed look up when they hear the door opening. Their gazes linger for a second too long on you until you can feel Ghost throwing them a warning sign in the form of a look and they peel their eyes away.

Gaz and Soap look up when they hear the door open, and just for a second, they smile at you before they furrow their browns when they see everyone's expression. 

“What happened? How come the wee lass so spooked?” Soap asks sitting straight and patting the seat between him and Kyle.

Price’s hand on your lower back softly pushes you forward to sit down before he answers: “She’s still a bit in shock, Soap. We’ll talk about it later.”

You sit down between Soap and Gaz, backpack still in your hands, and pull your knees up hugging your legs. Gaz points to your backpack and asks: “You sleeping over tonight? You should definitely sleep in Soap’s and my room. Ghost and Price have their own individual ones, but they snore.” He whispers the last part pulling a little smile from you.

You lean your head on Soap's shoulder when he lays his arm on the couch behind your back. The man is a living furnace and shortly after you find yourself seeking more contact.

Price sits on the second sofa in front of you and just a second later Ghost appears back, cup of tea on hand, as he gives it to you. You take it from his hands, yours still shaking just a little bit as you do, and you rest it on top of your knee for support.

Kyle's hand find its way to your other knee giving it a light squeeze. “How's your arm, luv?” You look at your elbow and shrug your shoulder. “I haven't even had time to check it, good I think, it hasn't bothered me.”

“You didn't get hurt today, did you?” Price asks focusing on your face after doing a quick check-up of you. You shake your head: “No, a headbutt on the ceiling if anything.”

Price nods, satisfied with your answer and shakes his head at the sergeant's questioning look. You look down to the tea, thoughts getting to you. You saw your neighbour get arrested, and if he had gotten free they would have told you. So it must have been someone who works for them, and if he wasn't arrested already is because they didn't really know who works for them. 

“What are you thinking about, birdie?” Ghost brings you back to reality with just a question. “Am I safe here?” You ask, with a shake in your voice. 

“Yes.” Price's answer is concise, full of trust in his own word, leaving no room for doubt. “As long as you are with us, nothing and nobody is getting to you.”

You look at his face, almost as if expecting him to burst laughing at you for trusting them. A voice in your head screams at you not to do it, you barely know them. But you thought you knew your neighbour and now he's trying to kill you, so. 

You nod and take a sip of the tea. Warming you inside and letting you relax just a bit. 

“How about a distraction?” Soap asks smiling at you. “Have we told ye aboot the time Gaz fell from a helo and was hangin’ from a rope like a yo-yo?”

“Fucking hell, Johnny. Shut up!” Gaz complains laughing next to you. 

The time went a bit more smoothly when Soap decided to talk about everyone's embarrassing stories, you could still tell he wasn't telling everything, keeping the classified information for himself, but still telling enough to have you laughing, gasping and asking with interest as he told.

By the time you finished your tea, you were already in a greater mood, the attack from today moved to the back of your head. Price lends you a hand to help you stand up while Ghost takes the empty cup from you. Gaz and Soap keep their word to share the room for the night against Price and Ghost's complaint that they should let you rest alone. Until the words “I don't really want to be alone.” leave your mouth and that's the end of the bickering. 

Soap and Gaz barracks are quite simple, two single beds against opposite walls, two desks, two little bookshelves and two closets. Almost as if there was a mirror in the middle of the room if it wasn't for the little trinkets and details on each side letting you know the right bed was Soap's and the one on the left was Gaz's. 

After a quick rock, paper, scissor championship, it is decided you will be sharing Soap's bed. And since you are already in your pyjamas, you get inside the bed quickly, ready to be done with the day. Soap lays behind you, hugging your middle and dropping a kiss to your temple. “Sleep tight, bonnie.”

A ray of light erupts from the bathroom door that is practically closed, almost as if whoever closed was afraid the click of the door closing would wake you up. At first, you don't think most of it, Soap must have gotten up to pee. But then you listen, and it doesn't sound like that's what he is doing in the bathroom.

Little grunts can be heard as well as the sound of skin hitting skin. You stand up from the bed, curiosity taking control of your body and walking you to peak at the door. You shouldn't, you really shouldn't. But once you lay your eyes on him, you know you are fucked. 

Soap is barechested, leaning against the sink with a hand supporting him while the other strokes his dick. He has his eyes closed, head low with his mouth open slightly, and small grunts and whines leave his lips. 

The grey sweatpants slightly lowered, allowing you to see the curve of his lower back as well as what you trust is the girthiest dick you have ever laid your eyes onto. The tip looks red, hungry for release, pearls of precum dripping from it making your mouth water. 

There is a turmoil of thoughts in your head, you keep repeating to yourself that you need to place some distance between yourself and these men. But the moment any of them show any skin or any emotion of want towards you, you throw yourself at them. 

Three times have you gone through this, your mind telling you is a bad idea and your pussy pushing you at their arms. This time is not different, and before you know it, you are inside the bathroom locking the door making Soap jump.

“Steamin’ jesus, bonnie.” He says shoving his dick inside his pants and turning his back at you to hide his tent. “Knock before entering, lass.”

“Sorry.” You mutter, not feeling sorry and you slowly walk to him. “I just wanted to help…”

“What? What you me-” He gets cut mid-question when he feels your hand grazing his tip, pressing your chest to his back and surrounding his waist with your arm. You use a hand to feel his abdomen and the other to softly caress the length of his dick inside his pants.

“But I can go back to bed if you don't want…” You say looking at the back of his head. “Don't you dare.” He answers grabbing your wrist when you try to take it back and he looks at you over his shoulder. 

“Ye dinnae have to do it if ye dinnae want… but if you want, I'll take anythin’ ye throw at me, bonnie.” He says turning around and cupping your face after lowering his pants again to free his erection. “I had to run to the bathroom cause ye were rubbing yer arse against me on yer sleep, I was about to explode.”

“Well then, I think it's only fair I fix it, right?” You ask looking at him cheekly. He leans down and kisses you smiling into the kiss. Little groans slide into your mouth as you stroke him and you can feel his hips thrust softly into your hand as well. 

For the last two days these men have only but given to you, and as much as you have enjoyed every single second of it, it is about time you give back. 

You pick Soap's hand from your cheek and push it up to your hair. “Make sure to keep my hair away from my face, all right?”

He looks at you confused but quickly gets the idea when you kneel before him. He quickly brushes your hair back with his finger, doing a ponytail at the back of your head and groans deeply when you give a kitty lick to his tip.

You pop his tip inside your mouth sucking softly as you circle it with your tongue. Stroke the rest with both your hands, unable to reach your thumb with your index because of the girth and slowly bobbing your head up and down.

Soap stays mumbling curse words under his breath, low enough to not be able to hear him and you wish you were not hiding in the bathroom and could hear him scream. You think back to when Price ate you out, did he get as turn-on satisfying you as you are getting doing it to Soap? 

He opens his eyes to lock into yours and you look up to him through your lashes as you start to get more inside your mouth. 

“Fokin’ hell, bonnie. Keep looking at me like that and I'm not gonna last a second.” He says struggling to keep his eyes open. 

You chuckle inside your head, and keep getting closer and closer to his hipbone. You must praise Soap's self-commitment to not cum, even though you can feel the grip on your hair getting tighter. When you feel his pubes brush against your nose you pull back taking a breath and look at him. When you lock eyes with each other, you smile and say before opening your mouth: “Fuck my throat, Johnny.”

For a second you get scared that Soap will just cum as you speak when you physically see the shudder that goes through him. But then he grips your hair back making you look up to him and he kisses your mouth in a sloppy kiss. Spit, drool and precum all mixing between your tongues and when he draws back to talk a threat of spit connect your lips. “You are going to fucking kill me, lass.” He mumbles and stands up to full height.

He doesn't let go of your hair and when you stick your tongue out he slaps it with his cock. “Gonna fuck yer throat raw, bonnie. Bite if it gets too much.” He smirks before shoving his dick down your throat in a single thrust and beginning to fulfil his word.

“Fuck, bonnie.” He says slurring his words between moans. “Taking my cock so well, such a good fucking lass, so, so good, fuck.” 

Your visions get blurry with the tears from fighting your gag reflex, your hands rest on Soap's thighs and you can feel them flex with each thrust. If it wasn't for your pants you know you would be literally dripping on the floor, never did you though it could turn you on this much. But seeing Soap becoming such a mess, not being even able to speak, just mumbles and curses leaving his mouth. 

“Let me cum inside, bonnie, please. I wanna see you drink it, please, please, bonnie, please.” He begs looking at your face with a pained expression, and almost as if he was waiting for your answer when you slightly nod he grunts and you feel his spent travel down your throat. He stays like that for another second and finally pulls out, you open your mouth showing him your work and he smiles as he bends down to kiss you again. “Fucking beautiful, love.”

The next morning you are woken up by an alarm and just a second later a door slamming shut. “I call dibs on the bathroom!” Kyle shouts making you jump.

You turn around on Soap's arms, nuzzling your face on his chest and sighing satisfied. “Eejit” Soap mumbles with his chin resting on top of your head.

“Do we have to share the bathroom the three of us?” You ask against his chest.

“Ye didnae seem to mind sharing it with me last night.” He mumbles back and you feel his chest tumble with a laugh.

“Aw, shut up, Johnny.” You say chuckling and yawning. “What time is it, anyway? I feel like I slept just two hours.”

“0540, not too far off to be honest.” He answers and when your half-sleep brain processes what time it is you look at him as if he has just insulted you. “What?”

“Why the fuck are we up before 6 in the morning? Like, seriously, the fuck?” You ask grumpy as you sit up pulling your legs over Soap's torso. He caresses one of your calves and flexes his arm resting his head on his hand. If you were not so bothered to be awakened so early, you would admire his physique. 

“This is the military, love.” He says smiling. “Ye look like an angry kitty.”

You pull the pillow from under his head and hit him with it making him laugh. “Do we need to be ready before six?”

“Yeah, actually, that's when we are supposed to have breakfast. We are meeting Lt. and Price there.” He says taking the pillow from his face. “Ye should get dressed.”

You groan standing up and picking your bag from the side of the bed. You pull your clothes out, and notice that you can barely form a full outfit; you sigh and sit on the floor looking at Soap who is now on his side, elbow on the bed and head resting on his hand. He looks at you with a confused expression and says: “That's all ye packed, lassie? I thought ye were staying more time.” 

He stands up, walks to his closet and picks something from inside just to throw it to your head. An uf sound leaves your throat and you pick it up to see it, it is a sweatshirt with MacTavish written on the back. “It is cold this early in the morning, we don't want ye freezing up. Get dressed.”

He bends down to drop a kiss on your lips leaving you a bit stunned and enters the bathroom without knocking making Gaz protest from the inside. “Stop screaming, it's me. I'm just giving the wee lass some privacy, Gaz.” 

You chuckle to yourself and quickly get dressed, putting on the only pair of jeans you have, and a weird t-shirt from some kind of ad you used to wear to sleep, feeling really grateful it is covered with Soap's sweatshirt.

“What are you doing here, luv?” Price asks standing up when he sees you enter the mess hall following Soap and Gaz. “Everything alright?”

The expression on your face must be portrait-worth because you can see even Simon's eyes twirl with a smile. 

“What do you mean what I'm doing here?” You ask looking at Price, until you hear a little snickering coming from both Gaz and Soap and you finally put two and two together. You turn to Soap and when you finally make eye contact with him, he burst out laughing.

“I'm sorry, bonnie. It was just too perfect of an opportunity to waste it.” He says raising his hand in false innocence. He tries to side-hug you, but you move quickly raising your chin offended and walking up to Price. “I'll fetch ye breakfast as a peace offering, all right, love?”

“That's the minimum you can do!” You exclaim still offended and stick your tongue out to him as you sit between where Ghost is sitting and where Price was sitting, him following you.

“Sorry about that, love.” Price says rubbing your tight. “I told them muppets to let you sleep in today. Did you at rest good?”

Gaz sits in front of you with a smirk, and you don't know if he knows, but you are sure that if he does he will snitch on you so stay on edge making sure not to break eye contact with him.

“Yeah, I did. The bed was surprisingly comforting, and Soap was a weighted blanket so.” You answer still looking at Gaz. You can feel Price's questioning look and Ghost's smirk.

“So Soap was comfortable?” Gaz asks smiling.

“Yeah, quite comfortable.” You answer.

He knows.

He fucking knows.

You don't know how, but he knows.

“Is that why you followed him to the bathroom when he went in the middle of the night?” He asks.

Fucking Garrick.

“I don't know what you are talking about.” You respond looking at your nails.

“I'm talking about when you into the bathroom and helped-”

CLANK

Soap puts the tray of food in front of you just in time, cutting Gaz's claim and starts to enunciate the food he bought. “I got ye coffee cause it's obvious yer not a morning person, I brought ye toast, some fruits and a little cereal cause I didn't really know what ye wanted. And I bought ye chocolate pudding.” He says putting the little cup on your hands, giving you a kiss on your head. “For sucking my dick so good last night.”

Gaz bursts out laughing, happy that he didn't even need to tell anything, while Ghost chuckles under his breath and Price sighs rubbing his forehead.

“I think there is a conversation that we definitely need to have.” Price announces. “For everyone's sake.”

Hiii 💗

Hope you liked the new chapter, please please drop a comment if you like it or if there is any scenarios you would like me to include 💗

Thank you again for all the support, you guys are the best

Taglist:@pagesfalling @thevoidwriting @darkangel4121 @tf141glory @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @ghostlythots @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @xinyiline @shadowtfpcod @infpt-zylith @renabear88 @lolliepopsicle @reap3erslov3

[crowgvts]

How to start a pair of punk patch pants

(a potentially really shitty tutorial)

I've seen a couple videos on this but a lot of them seem to skip out on some really key information and tricks so I thought I'd just write a probably really long and really rambly post about it!!!

Step one: gathering supplies

In terms of supplies the main things you'll need are:

The pants

Approximately 4 rolls of dental floss (this can change depending on number of patches and your pant size)

A needle with a big enough eye to fit the floss through

Acrylic paints

Brushes

Scrap denim or other scraps of fabric for the patches

Pins

Some kind of marker or pencil that will work on the fabric you've chosen

I will be going into some detail below about why you need each of these items!!

The pants themselves

personally I prefer either using a pair of jeans I already own or thrifting a pair to be as sustainable as possible, however if you really need to go out and buy a new pair for whatever reason get a high quality pair, this will help in the long run with preventing them from falling apart as easily.

The second main point I want to make is that the pants should not be skinny jeans. This is because when you sew on patches it slightly cinches in the fabric, and with skinny jeans generally being stretchy, this is going to result in the thread of the patches stretching out and snapping. Your patches will all just start falling off and it'll ruin your hard work.

This is why I'd recommend using a pair of jeans or pants that are a bit looser of a fit, such as straight legged pants or a pair of pants a size up from your actual size if possible!

Dental floss

The reason it's generally suggested to use dental floss rather than actual thread is because dental floss tends to overall be a lot stronger than your average thread, as well as often being more easily accessible to buy.

Needle

This ones pretty self-explanatory, just make sure you get a needle with a long/wide enough eye (the hole the thread goes through) for your floss to be able to fit through without trouble.

Acrylic paints

You may be wondering why I'm suggesting acrylics over fabric paints and there are a few reasons!

The first is simply that they're both cheaper and far easier to purchase for the average person than fabric paints, and I want this tutorial to be as accessible as possible for as many people as possible.

The second reason is that fabric paints require a lot of fucking around with setting the paint, whereas acrylics can just be left to dry and be finished, and so long as your pants are hand washed, the paints won't come out (unless you layer it on super thick or are really rough when you clean them).

Brushes

Another pretty obvious one, these are needed so you can actually paint your patches!!!

Fabric/spare denim

You need fabric or scraps to be able to actually create patches for your pants, so this is essential.

Any kind of scrap fabric can do, a lot of fabric stores tend to have bins of scrap fabric that are either pre-priced or priced by weight and that can be a really good opportunity to acquire the fabric you need!

Another way (the method I tend to use) is thrifting a few pairs of jeans alongside the pair I want to patch and then ripping them up into patch-sized pieces!

Either way, I really advise against buying straight up new fabrics by the metre for this as it kinda goes against the entire idea of sustainability and reuse.

A really big tip I have for when you're cutting the fabric of your choice up for patches is to actually only cut a little slit, and then rip. This produces a really nice distressed edge and will help add some texture and more of a fucked up look to your pants a lot quicker than if you waited for the fabric to fray by itself!

Marker/pencil

This is literally just so you can draw your designs onto your patches! I've personally found that either a black or white (depending on how dark the fabric you're using is) pastel pencil is generally good enough to get the general gist of what you want down well enough for you to paint it on.

Pins

These are literally just to hold your patches in place and literally any kind from proper sewing pins to safety pins will work! (just don't forget they're in the jeans before you put them on I promise you it isn't fun to put on a pair of jeans full of pins).

Optional: a sketchbook

You may want a sketchbook or alternatively scraps of paper if you have any kind of original concept for a patch so you can draw it out a few times first to really nail it, and it's also helpful to have if you aren't as confident in your painting and drawing abilities!

Step two: patch making

I personally pre-rip/cut all of my patches before I paint anything on them generally speaking and then fit whatever design I want onto whatever piece I think it would fit on, however if you want to paint your patches and then rip/cut the design out that's also an option (and probably a much smarter one I'm just incredibly stubborn).

For punk pants you want a good mix of both punk bands, politics, and also maybe something a bit daft (I have the "he scream at he own ass" possum on the back pocket of a patched skirt for example). If you don't have bands and such, it kinda defeats the point of them being punk patched pants.

I personally generally pick a theme (eg. colourful patches, all black and white) when making anything patched because I think it makes everything look a bit more cohesive, but that is by no means a rule you actually have to follow I'm just autistic a fuck tbh.

Step three: the assembly

I personally put my main/bigger patches on first and put them on in a few different places until I get the placement I like, and then sew them on with the floss like this:

The main thing you want to do to make sure your pants don't wind up looking a bit weird or bare is to fill in any gaps between your painted patches with small, blank patches. Like this:

and that's pretty much it!!! I can't really explain via written text how to sew and how I personally tie off etc but if anyone would like a video tutorial lmk!!!

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

🎃 A Warm Body

Oviposition CW: egg laying Monster!Reader based on an Anon❤️ from a while ago, yandere!human, reader with male and female reproductive organs

Growling in frustration, (Reader's) long claws carved into the concrete flooring of the room they were kept prisoner.

Their swollen body ached with how full they were, going mad with how desperate they were for release. As soon as they emerged from the Earth to reproduce, a human shot them with enough tranquilizers to put down a herd of elephants, which is why (Reader) now found themselves in what was essentially a concrete box, locked in by a large steel vault. (Reader) cried out in need, craving release.

The metal door spun obnoxiously, multiple mechanisms whirring as it unlocked and squealed open. The man who shot (Reader) quickly entered, shutting the door closed again behind him. There were so many things he wanted to say, an entire romantic monologue planned for the creature he had spent his entire life obsessing over, researching and hunting despite no one else believing in (Reader's) existence. But before he could open his mouth, (Reader) had him by the leg, dragging him down beneath them.

(Reader) ignored the man's happy squeaks, ripping his clothes off to find a suitable hole. His face glowed with heat, blushing as he pitifully attempted to cover up his body. But his small, human body was no match for (Reader's), effortlessly holding the man up by his hips, unfazed by his weak flailing. With his ass presented to (Reader) they couldn't help groaning, nearly bursting just from the thought of being able to mate.

They pushed the man onto their large depositor, screaming in pleasure at how snuggly he fit on them. (Reader) slid him against them, animalistic grunts bouncing off the concrete walls as they mercilessly fucked him.

His smile and incoherent babbling was cute, but (Reader) didn't really care. It didn't matter that it felt good for their abductor, that he was in complete and utter bliss. Nor did they appreciate his erect penis twitching with his building climax, about ready to cum without touching it. The only thing that mattered was coating the insides of his ass with their protective slime, forming a type of pocket to protect their eggs from his bodily functions.

Squelching sounds filled the air as he slapped into (Reader's) pelvis wetly, creating strings of fluids stretching between their bodies. (Reader) could feel that they had pumped enough nesting liquid into him, with how round he was already becoming.

The man erratically spasmed as the first egg entered his asshole, hitting his prostate on the way in. Cum hit the concrete with the next egg, off-white droplets landing pathetically by (Reader's) feet and dripping onto his own face from the doubled over position.

But (Reader) wasn't done. Eggs continued pumping into his body, brushing past the overstimulated man's sensitive spot, bringing him to tears as his post ejaculated body was overwhelmed, fucking deep into his aching hole.

He couldn't stand or run away, his legs weak from his orgasm and his body tired from the sudden bloating from his unnatural impregnation. (Reader) carefully pulled out after finishing, satisfied from laying their first brood. The man wasn't a bad host for their offspring, still smiling through his drool and tears. His full body was cradled against (Reader's) protectively, feeling content with the new life laid inside of him.

(Reader) may have only needed a warm body, but they didn't mind using this one for the rest of their mating needs ❤️

[fungal-rot]

Pure Instinct - Surrender

okay so i've been seeing those tiktok ads about that Pure-Instinct perfume and I had A Thot- it was originally supposed to go a different route, but i kinda went everywhere with this LOL.

summary: no outbreak; you bought a new perfume, one that's supposed to entice the opposite sex. but just how well does it actually work?

warnings: MDNI- smut (unprotected p-in-v), joel being a bit of a horndog, semi-desperate sex, oral (f receiving), use of 'good girl' and pet names (darlin', baby, pretty girl, honey), a bit of bulge riding, slight dom!joel, established relationship, no age specification for reader- lemme know if i forgot anything! - also please note i’m getting back into writing. i’m a lil rusty and still getting back into the flow of things; apologies for any mistakes.

w.c.: 2.7k

    ⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

All over the internet you've come across different videos advertising some 'pheromone perfume-' a blend of essential oils that are meant to work with your own natural scent, enhancing your body's pheromones- or something of the sort. Seeing the men become infatuated with their girlfriends and wives, clinging to them with lust-blown pupils certainly had your interest piqued.

After an- albeit, quick- internal debate with yourself, you bit the bullet and looked up the seller's site, coming across different smells like 'Crave,' 'Lucky,' 'Fallen-'

And 'Surrender.'

Sounds sexy. With a smirk you click on it, reading the description,

'Surrender has a sophisticated and mature scent which designed for the woman who wants to feel confident, beautiful, and sensual. Own any room you enter in. You won't just be noticed — you'll make heads turn. Sexy, but not vulgar.'

Sounds dominant.

There were different layers of notes, like magnolia, mandarin, vanilla, sandalwood; the list went on. Seemed like a good choice. You were about to add it to your cart, finger hovering over the button, but then you hesitated. Did you really need this? Was it that important to find out if it was worth the hype? To see if Joel would be unable to tear himself away from you, kissing you hungrily while ripping your clothes off an-

Added to your cart!

It was for science.

You even opted to pay extra for express shipping, heart racing with a giddy bite of your lip.

The day it arrived, you were practically bouncing on your feet with glee. Joel was at work, wouldn't be home for another hour or so. That meant you had plenty of time to get things together and play around with it.

Taking a quick shower then pulling a low cut shirt over your head and shimmying a pair of leggings on, you grabbed your little container of liquid-luck, rolling it over your heat points; a little between your breasts, behind your ears, along the crook of your neck, wrists, and fold of your arms. It definitely smelled alluring upon first apply. Now to let it dry and wait.

-

Keys jingled outside the door, the knob twisting a few times before the entrance swung open followed by a rather exhausted looking Joel Miller who stumbled through. The man heaved a heavy sigh as he tossed his keys into the dish and toed of his shoes before padding to the couch where you sat, pushing your cuticles back as you watched a rerun of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer.

"Hi, sugar," you greet, flicking your eyes to him as he flopped down, making you bounce softly. His hair was damp with sweat from being out in the hot Texas sun all day, thick veins protruding from his work-callused hands, trailing up his arm.

"Hm," he grunted in reply and placed his palms over his eyes as he leaned against the back of the couch, chest expanding with a deep breath only to falter for a split second. Joel took in another breath, this one loud and deliberate. With hands lowering from his face, he turned his head to you, slowly, with knit brows.

"D'ya smell that?" He asked, sniffing again with a curious glance of the room.

Now, you had to play this right. You couldn't just outright tell him you bought perfume that would have him slobbering all over you, no. That would defeat the purpose of your little experiment.

So instead you played coy and sniffed at the air just as he did, nose turning up with a gentle shake of your head and small bob of your shoulders.

"I don't smell anything."

He nods slowly, eyes narrowing with a slight slack of his jaw, tongue poking through the side of his teeth while he studied you.

"You don't smell that?" Joel pressed further, almost exasperatedly.

"Smell what, Joel?" A quiet titter sounded with your words, brows arching as an amused grin toyed at your lips.

"Jus'..." Joel trailed off, wetting his lip with a quick swipe of his tongue. The scent wasn't too overbearing. It was sweet, musky, and a hint of something so conversant. Something that always managed to get him hot under the collar. A heat that not even the dry summers he endured on a frequent basis could compare to.

That's when you leaned over him- totally not at all planned- reaching an arm past to grab one of the magazines on the end table. Joel drew another quick breath and it hit him. Before you could retreat he snatched your wrist with a tight grip, pupils dilated widely with parted lips. " 'S' you..." He murmured, attention solely on you and you alone.

The corner of your mouth twitched up into a smug smirk, "Is it?" You hushed back, feeling goosebumps erupt across your skin as he pressed a kiss to your inner wrist, slowly trailing up your arm and to your shoulder. A curt chuckle sounded from his chest as his own lips turned up. "Mm, I think so, baby," Now his lips danced on the crook of your neck, taking another whiff.

'Oh, fuck, that's good.' He thought, emitting a low growl.

"Yeah..." He purred, teeth grazing over your pulse point and eliciting a quiet moan from you, "that's alllll you, darlin'."

Hell, if Joel was tired before, he was certainly up now- in more ways than one.

"C'mere, pretty girl," He muttered and sat back, legs spread as he motioned two fingers in your direction. He watched with hungry intent as you crawled into his lap, thighs straddling his. Joel pawed at your hips, rolling them forward against the bulge straining in the confinements of his jeans with a grunt.

"Got me so damn hard an' ya haven't even done anything," With another forced roll, he throws his head back with a sigh. "Ride." He ordered with a strained voice, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. You didn't move just yet, however, and took in the sight of him; eyes shut and brows knitted softly, plush lips parted.

"Ride," Joel repeated with a firm smack to the meat of your ass, making you yelp and rut against him once more. You could feel the warm thickness of his cramped length through the thin cloth of your leggings, each continuous grind against your clit made you writhe in pleasure.

Good god, you were doing a number on him. He bucked his hips up in time with yours, panting faintly before sitting up and wrapping his thick, strong arms around your body.

Joel buried his nose into your neck again, allowing your enticing scent to flood his mind. His stomach tightened, and he had to pull you off his lap before he came in his underwear like a damn teen. You whine at the loss of friction, expression forming a soft pout as he laid you down, head against the armrest.

"I know, baby, I know," Joel cooed and tenderly cupped your jaw, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, " 'M gonna take care'a ya." He leaned down and planted a quick peck to the side of your nose.

"Always do, don't I?"

The man lowered himself down your body, hands stopping to caress and grab every now and then before slipping his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, swiftly tugging them down and watched as a string of arousal pulled, connecting the fabric to your lips. He smirked, relishing the fact you were just as turned on as he was, but what really caught his attention was-

"No panties?" He quirked a brow, a shit-eating grin apparent on his face as he continued shimmying you out of your pants. "Y'had this planned, didn't ya?"

You chuckled, biting your lip meekly and avert your gaze. Whoops! Caught.

"So, what is it?" He asked, curling a leg into the couch as the other planted on the floor, his head dipping to your center and placed an open-mouthed kiss to the inner crease of your hip.

"Surrender," You answered breathily, peering down at him as continued lavishing you with loving smooches and pecks, his wiry facial hair scratching at your body that only fanned the flames in your tummy.

His brows drew together with a vague frown as he lifted his head, "Whaddya think I'm tryin' ta do right now?"

Even though his words made you clench around nothing, you still couldn't help but laugh and bring a hand to your mouth to stop yourself. With a shake of your head you say, "No, dummy. I mean, that's the name of the perfume I bought."

Joel tilted his head back in a slight nod, uttering a soft 'Ohhh.'

"I dunno how I was s'posed ta know that," his head lowered once more, breath fanning over your wet heat and flicked his eyes to meet yours, "but it's fitting."

He didn't even give you a chance to process what he said before diving straight into your folds, tongue lapping over every crevice and drinking you down.

"O-oh, fu-fuck!" You breathed out, thighs instinctively closing around his head as your hand grasped at his sweat-matted brown hair.

He growled into your cunt, bracing his hands on either side of the soft, pillowy flesh of your legs and forcing you open again. Normally, Joel loved using them as his own personal pair of earmuffs, but now? He wanted you spread for him, needed it actually. He'd drown in you if he could, and by god he'd willingly die trying.

His mouth detached for a moment, just long enough for him to stick out his tongue and let a string of drool fall over your labia, watching with a satisfied smirk as it slid down to your entrance. Snaking a hand from under your thigh, he brought two fingers to your clit, brushing the pads of them over it with teasing glides. Your hips twitched and bucked with a soft mewl leaving your throat.

Joel dragged his bottom lip between his teeth before lowering his fingers. Down, down, then circling at your hole and slowly pushing in. A sharp gasp ripped from your chest, back arching as you finally got that stretch; so achingly sweet.

His cock twitched at the sound, begging to be let free and seek shelter deep inside your pussy. He had enough restraint (for now) to get you off first.

And they say chivalry is dead...

He latched his mouth back onto you, slurping obscenely as he licked his way up, fingers curling into the spongy spot of your canal.

"Jo- oh- el!" You cried his name brokenly, hand closing a tight fist into his hair with a tug. You could feel the fucker- no pun intended- smirk against you as he pumped his fingers in and out, picking up the pace as he suckled on the sensitive button. Your whines grew more relentless, hips rolling against the flat of his tongue and holding his head in place as the coil in your stomach began to tighten.

Joel felt you clench around his fingers and took that, along with the way you fervently bumped against the bridge of his nose, as a sign you were close. With a wince he reached his free hand to his jeans, fumbling with the button before sliding the fly down, reaching in and finally pulling out his hard cock.

Said hand went back to its rightful place against your thigh while he rutted against the cushions, pre-cum making a mess into the leather.

"C'mon, darlin'," He murmured, taking a quick glance at you and reveled in the sight of your flushed cheeks, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back against the arm rest. "Give it t'me, cum around my fingers." You didn't need to be told twice. In an instant, that coil snapped. Your legs trembled and shook as your climax ripped through your body, eyes snapping open and mouth agape, but no sound came out other than a few breathy whimpers.

"Good girl," Joel praised, still subtly grinding against the couch, desperate for his own release. "Good fuckin' girl." You had made a complete mess of his hand, your spend dripping down his fingers, into his palm and down his wrist, dribbling onto the sofa.

After your body relaxed, hand releasing the harsh grip from his hair, Joel pulled his fingers from you, making a shudder run up your spine. He sat back on his haunches, pushing his hand to your mouth and said, "Open."

Complying happily in your blissed-out state, your jaw slacked, allowing him to slide his soaked fingers into you warm mouth, palming himself with his other hand while he watched your lips close around the digits, feeling your tongue lick and clean your slick off them.

With a satisfied hum, he removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, greedily shoving his way past your teeth and licking the roof of your mouth.

Joel backed away, staring deep into your eyes. He huffed, pulling his pants down further, stepping out of one leg. He was so fucking horny and desperate right now he wasn't going to bother with the other one. This would do just fine.

"Need t'fuck you, baby," He spoke in a hushed tone, and without further warning he grabbed your leg and hooked it around his waist just before sliding right in with ease.

The two of you moan in unison. Either he was fucking huge- spoiler, he was- or you were really fucking tight.

Joel collapsed, a hand splayed next to your head to catch himself so he wouldn't fall directly on top of you as he bared his teeth with a hiss.

"Chris' onna damn bike," He slurred, gently lowering himself further and snaking an arm under you as he lazily thrusted into you.

He glanced down to where you two met, watching as he delved in further, "She's jus' swallowin' me in."

An aquiline nose sought out your neck, the sound of Joel consuming your scent filled your ears once more. He simply couldn't get enough. Hips snapped against yours incessantly, skin against skin bouncing off the walls and drowning out the sound of the tv in the background.

The man above reached a hand under your shirt, groping and squeezing your tit as he lowered his forehead to yours, half-lidded eyes boring into yours intently.

"Fuck," He muttered, eyes widening, hips stuttering, "Fuck, 'm close." Joel was a little ashamed of himself. He couldn't remember the last time he made it to the finish line so quickly.

He was quick to remove his hand from under your shirt, finger dipping to the spot where his cock pumped in and out, collecting your slick before sliding it up to your puffy clit yet again.

"Y'think you can gimme another'n, honey?"

"Y-yeah," You nod, feeling that familiar flame lick up your spine. "Wanna cum on your cock."

Joel's lip curled into a snarl at your admission, eyes rolling back before fluttering shut. His movements blundered, then he pulled out, leaving just the tip slotted in your entrance.

"Please," he whined. Whined.

That fucking did it. Your body tightened for the second time this evening, eager to let go and milk Joel of every last drop he had to offer.

"I'm c-" He interjected with a slam of his hips, making you see stars as he fucked you through your orgasm, the head of his dick tapping your cervix as he pushed himself as deep as he could, jerking into you almost feverishly. Your name fell off his tongue like a mantra while he held you flush against him, your back peeling off the leather with arms wrapped around his back as you nestled your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the musky, sweaty scent of him- your personal favorite brand of 'pheromone perfume' he wears.

After his body lightened, he turned his head and placed a listless, yet tender kiss to your temple. You made a move to crawl away, but that made his grip on you tighten.

"Not yet," he spoke lowly and leaned back, pulling you with him. "Wanna stay like this. Jus' for a minute."

His hand smoothed back your hair, the two of you laid there in silence to catch your breath. After a good ten minutes or so, you lift your head to peek at him, "So, I take it you liked the perfume?"

Joel offered a lopsided smile, rolling his head to the side with a swallow, "Loved it, darlin'."

You'd have to remember to buy more in the future.

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

hi, hello, thank you for reading. as stated above, i’m still basically re-learning to write. i’m trying to get in the hang of properly pacing out the story, not too rushed but not too wordy either. feedback is appreciated! pls feel free to interact with a reblog or comment <3

[dollfacefantasy]

I want RE6 leon to fuck me until I pass out.

only a little drabble cause i'm having a hard time focusing rn but here you are cause this is real asf <3

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, overstimulation

You weren't sure what it was about tonight, or more specifically, what was up with Leon tonight. The past couple days he'd been clingier with normal, which was totally fine by you. You'd rather have him attached to your side than barely able to speak to you as was the case after a hard mission or a night when he had a bad dream.

But the clingy he'd been over the past couple days wasn't his normal clingy. It wasn't a hand constantly on your waist or swarms of gentle kisses landing at your hair line. A more accurate word to describe this would be need.

He was giving you tons of kisses, but they weren't gentle. They were open mouthed and sloppy up and down the side of your throat. His hands lingered on your body but not in a protective or loving manner. They groped and squeezed. The mere feeling of being so desired gave you the smallest spark of pleasure in your belly, but his desire for you nearly had burnt through an entire fuse.

It came no surprise to you that in the evening, his hands were snaking beneath your clothing, maneuvering your limbs around as if they belonged to a doll.

Needy kisses continued all along your throat and collar bone. Little murmurs of "just wanna feel you, baby" and "need to be inside that sweet little pussy" drifted up to your ears. Your fingers found his hair and gave it a little tug, a switch putting him into a state of no return.

Now his hand was wrapped around your throat. Your legs were bent over his shoulder. He was as deep inside you as physically possible without causing you an injury. You'd cum a few times already, pussy sore and aching but still sucking him like he was essential to your survival.

"Leon, fuck!" you cry out as his shaft continues sliding in and out of you raw, massaging all the pleasure spots that drove you wild.

He groans into the crook of your neck, biting at the skin as a way to not lose it. He didn't really know what was going on either. His stomach was doing flips at every tiny whimper you made, and his heart was locking up each time your walls fluttered around him.

"I know, honey. Just a little more. I'm almost done. I swear," he murmurs thoughtlessly.

The words were simply tools of placation. Another method to keep him safe and secure where he needed to be, balls deep inside of you.

Your back arches as much as it can in this position, and you whine like a desperate animal.

"That's my girl. I know, baby, I know. You're such a good girl, always giving me what I need," he coos in a strained tone.

His hips have a mind of their own, you know this well by now. You can feel them beginning to move like they're possessed. No regard for your pleasure, and in a way, almost no regard for his. They move purely with the drive to claim you. The deep primal part of him that ached to own you.

Your thighs quiver violently and the ability to speak with any sort of coherence is ripped away from you. It's all so much, and it's been so much for however long he's been drilling into you.

The noises coming from where the two of you connect sound throughout the room, wet and lewd. Unbridled and desperate.

You cum again at some point, but he's still fucking going. He's whimpering almost as if he's in pain. From what you can see with you're fading vision, his eyes are screwed shut and his breaths are coming out in ragged puffs.

"Baby, Jesus, I... ah- oh fuck, baby, my baby," he mumbles against your skin.

The bed below you feels as if it's on fire. Your skin burns with absolute overstimulation. Your head feels cased in a foggy container of lust. You aren't sure when it happens, but somewhere in the middle of all this, you pass out.

You're gone for a good ten seconds, head lolled back, eyes vacant, mouth parted and silent.

That's what clues Leon in that something's up. Your passionate mewls for him had abruptly faded to nothing. The hands clawing at his back had dropped away in favor of being limp on the mattress.

He pulls his head back, eyes widening when he sees your incapacitated state. But he can't stop moving his fucking hips. He so can't stop that the words "baby are you ok?" get tangled up into a whiny, humiliating groan that he's happy you most likely won't remember.

As you come to again, he cums inside of you. He throws his head back with a silent moan. Your gaze shows your disorientation but also the pleasure still coursing through you. He fucks that cum into you like it's his mission, and when he's done, you're pretty sure he's the one passed out now.

[fettuccin-e]

Flying to New Heights

Summary: A flight delay means you're spending your night at the hotel bar, praying for sleep to come to you. Instead, a certain Captain Francisco Morales shows up, tall and broad and far too tempting. With undeniable attraction burning between you, you can't help the way you fall right into his arms.

A/N: Alright! I know it's been a while, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Life has gotten a tad crazy, but the Frankie thirst never stops okay? And this AU has been buzzing in my head for a little while now, so I just needed to get it out there. I hope y'all enjoy the porn. (dividers are by the lovely @saradika-graphics!)

Tags: Frankie Morales x Reader, Commercial Pilot!Frankie, Flight attendant!reader, afab!fem!reader, alcohol consumption but barely, this is essentially an excuse for porn so, oral and fingering(r!recieving), unprotected piv (pls wrap it up I'm begging you), Francisco Morales and his dirty mouth have struck again (w/c: 4.2K)

You love your job, you really do. Deciding to actually train to be a flight attendant was one of the best decisions of your life. Gone were the days of short-lived stints in retail, and you’ve never been happier for it.

You’ve lived the attendant life for a few years now, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve met some of your best friends through this job, seen some of the most beautiful places in the world, met celebrities on their way to new production locations and concert venues. 

It’s the dream, you tell your family, during the rare moments you actually get to visit them. And it is. The perks far outweigh the cons in your profession, and you’re happy to be where you are.

That’s not to say there aren’t any cons though.

There are always rude flyers, unruly children, issues with luggage. The turbulence is never much fun, nor are the months spent without being able to go home at all.

There are always nights like tonight, where the rain made the flight arrive later than expected, and you’ve got another flight scheduled for the morning. Between jetlag and the copious amounts of airline coffee you’ve imbibed to remain bright and chipper over an eight hour flight overseas, there’s no way you’ll get more than five hours of sleep before you have to clock in again.

A nightcap in the hotel bar seemed just the thing to cool off. You haven’t even taken your uniform off, the thick fabric stretching across your skin, your legs exposed to the cool air as you sip on your drink. The alcohol burns a bit in the back of your throat, but you take comfort in it, trying to lean into the calming warmth it creates in your stomach.

“Can’t sleep?”

The unexpected voice rips you from your reverie, and fuck, what a wake up call. The voice is deep, a pretty rasp edging into the ends of his words, the warmth of his tone making you far warmer than the alcohol in your glass ever could.

Captain Francisco Morales. Even his name has heat swimming in your stomach, and you wish you had just gone to bed like a normal person instead of drinking at the hotel bar at midnight. 

You can’t decide if the pilot is a perk or a con of the job, only knowing that he seems to pilot most of your flights, and is a fucking distraction during every single one of them. With his big broad shoulders and patchy beard, the crinkles around his eyes when he smiles and his insistence that you call him Frankie, not Captain Morales. 

The whole “flight attendants fucking pilots” trope never really applied to you until you met Frankie. You’ve made it a point not to hit on him, no matter how much you desperately want to. It would be far too stereotypical, and with how fucking nice Frankie is, you’d feel like you’d be taking advantage of him. So you’ve kept your distance, talking to him kindly, trying to cross your legs discreetly when he flexes his damn hands on the plane controls, and doing your job like a normal person.

But as he crosses into your line of vision, sitting in the barstool directly next to you, you’re struck with the realization that you’re in unknown territory. There’s no distracting yourself here with other passengers, or your fellow flight attendants. You can’t excuse yourself to an airplane bathroom to splash cold water on your face and yell at yourself to get it together. No, Frankie is right in front of you, ordering a whiskey neat from the bored-looking bartender, and smiling at you so fucking prettily with those big brown eyes and big hands and oh god you’re not going to survive-

“Nah, the jet-lag is really getting to me this time,” you say casually, your voice working on its own accord. At least you aren’t staring at him dopily like some kind of imbecile.

He chuckles. “Same here. Flight go okay?”

“You got us here, didn’t you, Captain? I’d say that’s a success.”

“Then let’s hope I’m always successful,” he winks, and it takes effort to breathe normally. You giggle, and he smiles at you again, his eyes crinkling up.

“You have a flight tomorrow?” he asks, sipping at his drink. 

“Yeah, unfortunately," you sigh. "10:00AM, which is making the whole ‘no sleeping thing’ even worse. Y’know, it’s really the airline’s fault if I collapse on a passenger." You grin at him, and he laughs.

“Oh, they should be so lucky,” he chuckles, and you could swear that you see just a flicker of heat in his eyes. A heat that turns into a raging inferno inside of you, spreading from your cheeks to the tips of your toes. 

“How about you, Captain? Flying again tomorrow?” You need to keep your mind out of the fucking gutter, not that he makes it very easy.

“Yup. They’ve got me in the air at 8:00AM.”

“Oh man, and you’re listening to me complain about my 10:00AM?”

“Work is work, sweetheart,” he smiles at you, and you want to collapse into him at that very moment. Sweetheart. Coming from anyone else, it would sound smarmy, like a pick up line, but from Frankie, it just sounds warm and comforting. You want to be his sweetheart. “We’re all allowed to complain. We aren’t in any kind of competition.”

He sips his whiskey, his eyes feeling like they’re boring into your fucking soul. “And either way, we’re both in the same bar, at midnight, sleep nowhere in sight. We’re pretty much in the same boat.”

“If you say so, Captain,” you say, your body positively burning under his gaze. You hope that you can blame it on the alcohol.

He raises an eyebrow, “I thought I told you to call me Frankie, sweetheart.”

“Frankie, sorry.”

“No need to be sorry,” he says, taking another sip. You try to not watch his throat work as he swallows. You fail. “Think you just need more practice,” he mumbles into his drink, so soft you almost miss it.

“Practice?” you blurt, mind too distracted to think of an intelligent response.

“Practice saying my name.”

A laugh startles out of your mouth. “I have no idea how I’d practice that, Frankie.”

He hums, pretending to think. “I have a few ideas,” he murmurs, and fuck, you definitely aren’t imagining the heat in his eyes now. It’s blazing into you, and you have to press your thighs together to alleviate the ache between them, hoping that Frankie doesn’t notice. Or maybe you hope he does, as you watch those thick fingers wrap around his glass.

Fuck it. He’s hot, you’re horny, and God, you can’t take much more of this. “I’d love to hear all about them, Frankie,” you say, adding a little rasp to your voice that you hope sounds sexy.

Frankie chuckles, but it doesn’t sound like he’s making fun of you. No, he sounds surprised, like he can’t believe you’re flirting back at him. Confidence swims in your chest as red colors his cheeks. You gaze up into those warm, brown eyes of his, and fuck, he’s so pretty up close like this.

“You sure about that, hermosa?”

You don’t break eye contact with him, and his deep gaze burns into yours. “Positive,” you breathe, and Frankie’s smirk is absolutely devastating.

Captain Francisco Morales doesn’t do this often. No, he doesn’t do this ever. Fucking between flights is supposed to be a perk of being a pilot, but it’s a “perk” he rarely utilizes. One night stands have never really suited him; he gets attached far too easily, and with his job, he can never stick around for long.

But god you’re pretty. And you’re licking hotly into his mouth, and whining in the back of your throat like you’re fucking desperate for it.

He couldn’t help himself when he saw you, still in your little uniform skirt, nursing a drink at the hotel bar. He couldn’t help himself when he struck up a conversation with you, wanting to see your pretty smile and soft laugh that he only ever hears mid-flight. And damn it, he sure as hell can’t help himself from pressing you up against the wall of the hotel elevator, pressing one of his thighs between yours while your fingers curl into his hair and his arms wrap around your waist.

You wiggle down onto his thick thigh, and it creates the most perfect pressure on your clit. You whimper against Frankie’s mouth, and he groans with you, pulling you flush against him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and his voice is deep and gravelly, breathless from your fevered kisses. “I, uh, I don’t usually do this kind of thing.” His cheeks burn, but he doesn’t back away, just leans his forehead against yours and tries to catch his breath.

It isn’t a surprise, his confession. You’ve heard stories about every other pilot, about their conquests with flight attendants, or how someone saw one of them take their wedding band off when they got to their hotel. There are stories upon stories about every pilot you’ve flown with, except Frankie. And it’s intoxicating, knowing that he wants you enough to have you like this. 

“Good. Me neither,” you whisper, and Frankie grins again. That boyish, devastating grin, and fuck, your clit is throbbing so hard that you could cum like this. You could cum, right in this elevator, Frankie’s thigh between yours and his tongue in your mouth, fuck-

The elevator dings, signaling your arrival to your floor, and Frankie jumps away from you as the doors slide open. You don’t take it personally, not when you’re instinctually tugging your rumpled skirt down. You glance up, and Frankie is already staring down at you, gaze blazing as he braces a hand against the elevator door, holding it open for you. 

“Where’s your room?” he asks, and the question is casual, but his voice certainly isn’t. There’s promise in it, and you have to make sure your knees don’t buckle. 

“Why don’t I show you?” you say, stepping toward him to press your bodies together. Frankie doesn’t answer, he only cups a hand under your jaw, dragging your face up for a sticky kiss. It’s so much better than a yes.

He breaks the kiss far too soon, but one of his hands makes its way down to your ass, squeezing the fat of it through your skirt. “Lead the way, princesa,” he grumbles, and how could you ever think to refuse him?

Maybe you’re a little too eager in your walk to your room, but Frankie doesn’t seem to fare much better. No, he’s just as desperate as you are, with the way he presses you against the door of your room the moment you close it. With the way he swiftly kisses down your neck, sucking your skin between his teeth as he unbuttons your blazer, shoving the fabric down your arms. The buttons of your white undershirt follow, and you keen as he sucks maddeningly at your pulse point, his mustache scratching at the sensitive skin of your neck.

As soon as you’re divested of your shirt, Frankie’s moving again, kissing his way down your chest. He drags his teeth against the soft skin of your breasts, and you dig your hands into his hair. 

“Fuck, baby, you’ve got the prettiest tits,” he murmurs against your skin. It doesn’t sound like a line, no, it sounds like a prayer. 

“Frankie, please,” you breathe.

He looks up at you from his position at your chest. “What, gorgeous?” he asks, coy, as if he doesn’t know what you want. What you desperately need. 

“Please, just,” you use your grip in his hair to drag him back up to your mouth, and he goes willingly, groaning softly as his tongue meets yours again. “Please fuck me, Frankie,” you whisper, and Frankie groans like he’s dying.

“Take- take your clothes off, baby,” he mutters, and it sounds more like he’s begging than he’s commanding. “Take your clothes off, and get on the bed.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

You have to make sure you don’t trip on your way to the bed as you kick off your heels. You tug your skirt and nylons down your thighs, making sure to wiggle your ass a bit more than normal as you bend over to tug them the rest of the way down your legs. You smirk at Frankie’s soft groan behind you.

The air of the hotel room is slightly cold, but as soon as you kneel on the bed, arching your back in a shameless display of your desperation, Frankie is burning hot above you, and you can’t feel the cold at all. Frankie’s thick, calloused hands palm your ass, and you moan as he spreads you apart, staring unabashedly at your aching cunt.

“Can I eat your pussy, baby?” he grumbles from behind you, and the fact that he’s asking permission to eat you out is making you so much hotter, making you clench around nothing. 

“Yes, yes, Frankie, oh please-” you whine, and Frankie barely lets you finish your sentence before he’s dragging his tongue in a long stripe up your dripping pussy. “Fuck, Frankie,” you groan, and he moans into you, sounding like he’s enjoying eating you out just as much as you are. 

His nose drags maddeningly through your folds as he brings his lips down to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it in circles that send pure pleasure sparking endlessly up your spine. You arch your back into it, pressing yourself into his mouth, and Frankie groans again. The vibrations of it against your clit make you jerk wildly, whining high as you clutch desperate fingers into the pristine white sheets of the bed.

Frankie tries to keep you still with one of his big hands pressing into the small of your back. His other hand makes its way to your pussy, and you don’t even realize, not when he’s licking into you so feverishly, until there’s a thick finger pressing into your achy entrance.

“Frankie, oh my god-” you gasp wetly, his finger so much thicker than one of your own. It’s been so long, too long, since you’ve had the touch of anything other than yourself. Your tiny, traveling bullet vibrator doesn’t feel like this. You can’t stretch yourself like this, you can’t drive yourself wild like he can.

He moves his finger around inside you, searching, searching, while he licks softly at your clit. “Where is it, baby?” he mutters against you, and you have to force your brain to work at least a little bit to decipher whatever the fuck he means.

His finger is still searching, stroking against your slick inner walls, and you can barely gasp out a, “up, up,” before he’s finally touching that sweet spot deep inside you. You can’t hide it when he does, gasping out a high pitched moan as pleasure rockets up your body.

“There it is, sweetheart,” he says, “good girl.”

And fuck, how do you hold yourself together when he says things like that. He licks again at your clit, but plays with that spongy spot inside you, abusing it. You’re so slick and hot, it doesn’t take long before he’s pressing a second finger into you, then a third. And his fingers are so fucking thick, breaking you apart and pressing into that wonderful spot inside you. Your vision is blurring at the edges as he plays with you like a practiced instrument. How is he so good at this? Your body barely feels like it’s your own, just Frankie’s; his to play with, his to fuck. God, he’s ruining you. It’s never been this good.

“Frankie, Frankie-” you whimper his name like a prayer, and his fingers move fast into you, jackhammering you into the mattress. You whine as he breaks his mouth from your clit, but he keeps his fingers pressed deep inside of you as he leans over your trembling body. 

“C’mon baby, c’mon baby,” he mutters, moving his fingers inside you so roughly that you could swear he’s trying to break you in two. “What do you need, sweetheart? What do you need to cum all over my fingers, huh?”

“Just keep-” you gasp between shuddering moans. “Just keep talking to me, fuck, please-”

“Talk about what, gorgeous? Talk about how hard I am for you right now? How hard you always make me?” You whine at his words, and you can feel his smirk against the skin of your shoulder. His fingers move into you even harder, if that’s even possible. “Fuck, princesa, you have to know how fucking sexy you are. Make me so fucking hard whenever we fly together. Fuck, watched you bend over to pick up your bag once, right in front of me. Had to fuckin’ jerk my cock as soon as we got back to the hotel. Can’t help it around you baby.”

You feel like you’re underwater. Frankie’s voice is deep and dark in your ear, and your pussy is so fucking sensitive. You can feel your orgasm burning relentlessly in your stomach. Just a little more, just a little-

“Thought about taking you to the back of the plane, mid flight. Thought about fucking you hard, stuffing this pretty pussy, making you go back out to work with my cum dripping down your thighs. You want that, sweet girl? Fuck you’re so pretty, so pretty baby, you’ve gotta cum. Please, please let me fuck this pussy. Be my good girl, cum all over my hand.”

You don’t think he means it like a command, but you follow it anyway. You moan, throaty and wet, into the sheets as your cunt clenches around Frankie’s fingers, hips twitching as he presses reassuring kisses to your shoulder. You turn your head blindly, and he leans forward to meet your lips in a bruising kiss, his fingers buried deep inside as you gush all over his hand.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you whisper against his lips, repeating it like a mantra, and Frankie whimpers, needy and so hot that it makes you want to cry.

“Okay, baby, okay, I’ve got you,” he says, and you know he does. 

When Frankie presses the blunt tip of his cock against the opening of your sensitive pussy, you both groan. You push your hips back just as he pushes his hips forward, and the tip of his cock is just as big as the rest of him. Which, of course, means fucking massive. You have to breathe through the stretch of him inside you as he sinks deep, deeper, deeper. 

“Doing so fucking good, sweetheart. Jesus fuck- ah- so fucking tight baby- fucking beautiful- oh fuck-” Frankie mutters, sounding just as overwhelmed as you feel. It feels like forever until he bottoms out, his hips pressed against your ass as he hunches over you, hot and big and all man. It’s a dream that you’ve had before, but the reality is so much better than anything you could have ever imagined.

“So- you’re so big, Frankie,” you whimper, and Frankie groans behind you. “Need you to fuck me, wanna feel it tomorrow, please, please-” and he does. He pulls his hips back, just to shove himself back in, and the drag of his fat cock against that spot he found earlier has tears springing unbidden to your eyes. 

“Yes! Oh my god, like that, just like that-” you’ve never talked this much before during sex. But his unyielding thrusts, deep, deep inside, have you babbling wildly.

“Christ, you can’t talk like that, princesa, gonna make me blow my fucking load-”

“Want it, fuck Frankie, want you dripping down my fucking thighs, wanna gape open after you fuck me, oh god-”

Frankie fucks in harder, and it’s like every thought you’ve ever had flies out of you. His chest and stomach press into your back as he holds you still, thrusting desperately into you, harder and harder.

The bed is creaking, a rhythmic squeak that mixes in with the endless sounds of your keening whines and Frankie’s moans, and the obscene squelching of your pussy around Frankie’s cock. Your wetness drips down your thighs as Frankie bullies his way inside. He’s hitting that beautiful spot inside you, so perfectly, so overwhelmingly perfect, and fuck, tears are dripping down your face as you clutch onto a pillow, only able to squeak out pitiful whines of “Frankie, Frankie,” as he destroys you.

“So fucking gorgeous for me, god, bebita, fuckin’- fucking tight, fucking strangling me. Been too long, honey? Too long since you got fucked like you deserve?” Frankie growls into your ear, fucking you like a god damn animal.

Frankie’s lost control above you, which he just doesn’t do. He’s always in control, always, he has to be in this profession. But it’s like you’ve stripped him bare, literally and figuratively, to the most primal parts of himself. You’re so fucking hot and wet and tight around him, whining and throwing yourself back on his cock like it’s the best you’ve ever had, and he’s losing it. Losing it far too quickly, and he’s going to cum far too quickly.

“C’mon, baby, give me another one,” he groans, “squeeze my cock with this perfect fuckin’ pussy, wanna, wanna feel it.”

“Touch my clit- oh please, please, Frankie, ah- ah” and he does, the moment the words leave your lips. He reaches underneath the both of you, not breaking the rhythm of his hips driving into yours, and rubs two of those thick, calloused fingers against your throbbing clit.

“Fuck- yes, just like that, just like that, oh my god.” You’re slurring your words, so stupidly drunk on the feeling of his cock filling you over and over, of his body radiating heat above you.

“Gonna take care of you hermosa, make you cum like you deserve, so fuckin’ beautiful crying on my cock,” Frankie says, rubbing your clit hard and methodical. “Never gonna get enough of you baby. Gonna fuck you in every hotel we ever get, fuck you at the terminal, fuck this pussy in the god damn cockpit, oh shit-”

And you’re screaming, outright screaming into the sheets as the thread in your stomach snaps, your pussy clenching and gushing all over Frankie’s giant cock. He’s still mumbling into the cook of your neck, mindless mumbles about how pretty you are, how perfect, as you tremble through the most powerful orgasm of your fucking life. It’s devastating, it breaks you apart and puts you back together all at once, and you just have to trust Frankie to hold you together in his strong arms.

“Where do you want it, huh baby? Please, please, you’ve gotta tell me, oh shit-” Frankie whimpers, and it’s a damned good thing you still have enough brain cells to understand what he means.

“Inside, inside, 'm on the pill, please, please fill me up.” It’s fucking risky that you both didn’t even think about a condom, but with a man like Frankie, it’s hard to think about anything.

His hips still, his cock pressed inside so deep that it feels like he could be in your lungs, as he fills your pussy with his cum. He bites harshly into your shoulder, but it doesn’t fully muffle his whimpers as he crashes through his orgasm. Your eyes flutter shut. You wish you could bottle those sounds and listen to them forever.

Your knees slide out from under you, leaving you laying flat on your stomach, and Frankie follows, holding himself against you as you wait for your breathing to slow. 

“That was…” you whisper into the quiet.

“Fucking amazing.”

You can’t suppress your giggle. “Took the words right out of my mouth, Frankie.”

He tucks his face into the crook of your shoulder, and you can feel his pretty smile, before he’s lifting himself off of you, and you realize how cold you are without his heat.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” he says, and you can’t bring yourself to do anything more than nod. Frankie rushes quickly into the en suite bathroom, and you can hear the sink running for a moment, before he comes back. A warm, wet rag makes its way down your back, over the curve of your ass, and between your legs. He’s ridiculously gentle as he wipes you down, and it’s wonderful. 

Once Frankie deems you clean again, he climbs into bed next to you. He wraps his arms around your placid body, tugging you close. “Didn’t take you for a cuddler, Frankie,” you murmur, but you only snuggle closer, relishing in his deep chuckle.

“I’m usually not.”

“You don’t do this often, though?” you say, dragging a finger down his chest, your eyes already fluttering shut.

You feel Frankie’s lips press to your forehead as he murmurs, “I think I’m willing to let this,” he hugs you against him softly, “become a new habit.”

You smile, and you lean up to kiss him gently. “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

[raitonsfw]

𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚜 | 𝚓𝚊𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗

synopsis: You adored beach days with Eren, it was one of your favorite pastimes. You two would lounge in the sun, basking in the afterglow of a tan. But when he’s got a remote controlled vibrator pressing incessantly against your clit… suddenly relaxing became much harder (or easier) than you expected.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, modern!eren, boyfriend!eren, exhibitionism, sex toy but more specifically a remote controlled vibrator woohoo, dirty talk, petnames (babe, baby), slight degradation but mostly praising, fingering, finger sucking, overstimulation, squirting, eren gets jealous over the vibrator, rip mikasas’s pink towel. 

a/n: my best friend requested a beach vibrator/exhibitionism type scenario and eren was the perfect character to write it with, literally having aot brainrot rn so enjoy me simping for this fucker in my writing! wc: 1.8k. m.list

now playing: good vibrations by the beach boys (obviously)

divider credit: @benkeibear

The beach was awfully cramped today. Dozens of families cluttered the golden sand and you instantly felt self conscious. Not because of the swimsuit you were wearing, but the oval vibrator that was nestled right against your clit, waiting to be switched on. You glanced at Eren who was casually setting up the umbrella into the soft patches of sand and you crossed your arms against yourself, looking back out towards the glittering ocean. 

It wasn’t your idea to wear the vibrator, Eren had insisted with a ‘it’s waterproof, you’ll be fine honey,’ and you took his word, thinking what could possibly go wrong? But now that you're actually standing in the middle of the beach, you weren’t so sure if you could play off your arousal as you anxiously waited for him to press the button. 

Eren had his hair pinned up in a small bun and when you glanced down to his body, you nearly went stupid. It was hot outside, so of course he was already sweating as he set up the beach essentials, the sweat gleaned from underneath his white shirt as it lifted up when he stretched over to move something. You didn’t have much time to soak it in though before his shirt was promptly pulled off and his muscles were on full display in front of you. 

And oh fuck, maybe you didn’t even need him to turn on the vibrator. 

“Y/N, come sit down.” You heard him say as he sat down and you obliged, patting the sand off of your flip flops and putting your belongings on the edge of the salmon towel. You pulled off the cover up you had on, revealing your swimsuit and your hand subconsciously grazed over your lower tummy, worried that people could see the vibrator’s prominence. Eren whistled sharply as he looked you once over from his sunglasses. “Damn, babe…”

You shot him a look but then your mind wandered off as you took a good look at him. You just wanted to know where he kept that devious thing. But seeing as he leaned forward with his knees up and his forearms resting on them, his hands were completely empty and he smirked at you when he noticed where your eyes landed. 

“Looking for the remote?” 

“N-No, I was just thinking about how funny you looked sitting on a tiny pink towel.” You stuttered back, sitting in between his parted legs. His hands came to rest against your shoulders and you sighed, leaning back into him. It was truly a beautiful day, the sun glistened onto the sea with the rays beaming against your skin. The umbrella didn’t shield you two much but it was better than nothing, the inch of privacy comforting you as you waited for the inevitable. He had propped the two beach chairs on either side of the towel as well so that added to the depth of what covered you two.

“It’s Mikasa’s towel.” Eren admitted with a chuckle, like you didn’t already know. He planted a kiss against your exposed shoulder as he rubbed his hands gently down your arms.

Your eyes slipped closed as he trailed his lips up towards your neck, but you shook off his teasing. You vaguely felt him shuffle behind you, unaware of what he was grabbing and you clenched around nothing as you thought of him pressing the remote. “Eren, there’s people around.” 

“That’s the whole point, duh. Besides, I’m only putting sunscreen on you.” He grinned slyly as you heard the click of the sunscreen bottle echo in your ears and the cold lotion basically felt like ice as he slathered it against your back. Your skin was already so unbearably hot, from the sun and from his constant teasing, and the fucking devil basically sitting in between your thighs. You flinched, earning another quiet chuckle from him. 

“You’re so on edge today, it’s cute.” 

You didn’t respond as you tried to relax in the way he massaged the sunscreen into your skin, but all you could think about was the pressure you sat against and you couldn’t help but subtly grind against it. It barely did anything but you still sighed as you felt a tiny ripple of pleasure erupt throughout your body. You felt Eren’s calloused fingers stop rubbing the sunscreen in and you stopped your hip movements with a shudder as he sucked a slight hickey into your neck. 

“Someone’s excited, hm?” Eren hummed as he gave you the sunscreen bottle, a smirk buried in the crook of your neck. “Here.”

You lathered the sunscreen over the rest of your body as he turned on the speaker you two had brought, not very loud of course; you didn’t want to draw too much attention to yourself. Your music playlist came pouring through the speaker and you relaxed a bit more, the bass of the song thrumming into your veins. It distracted you from the vibrator dilemma and you happily sang along to the tune, watching some kids near the water make a sandcastle.

And then the fucker pressed the button. 

“Eren!” You gasped out suddenly, dropping the sunscreen bottle in your hands. They flew to his forearms that had wrapped back around you and your legs clamped shut as it seared pleasure into your clit. It buzzed viciously against you and you couldn’t do anything but take it, shaking lightly in Eren’s arms. He had put it on high too, that goddamn bastard and a moan threatened to spill from your lips. 

“What is it, baby?” He asked, his voice almost mocking your high pitch. The remote was wedged into his left hand and you wanted to snatch it away and throw it into the ocean. You were much too close already, the comfort of the song you sang falling away and you leaned back into his chest with a tremble. 

Your fingernails dug into his forearms and you felt him hard against the small of your back, pressing into you there as you got off on the incessant vibrations. You tried to keep your mouth shut but tiny whimpers forced their way out and you swore you felt him grind up into you with a breathy laugh. Eren flipped the remote in his hand, toying with it and your back arched into the droning sensation. 

You squirmed against him, trying desperately to stay still and to stay fucking quiet. But it was insanely difficult, especially when Eren parted your legs again as he threw your disposed cover up between them. His free hand slipped underneath your arm and down your chest, straight to your swimsuit bottoms and you keened at the way he pushed the vibrator harder onto your clit. He kept it there as his middle and ring finger plunged into your slick without warning. He gathered some of it onto them and then pulled them out with ease, tutted quietly as he examined with a furrowed expression.

“All because of this damn vibrator, huh?” Eren sucked them into his mouth like a fucking whore, tasting you on his tongue and you whined at the action. “How come this doesn’t happen when I’m fucking you?”  

You didn’t know if anyone was looking your way and honestly, you didn’t care anymore as your orgasm came bubbling up to the surface. Eren clasped his hand over your mouth, muffling the moan that came from you as you convulsed against the softness of the towel. It crashed over you harshly and you almost bit the remote that was pressed against your lips as the vibrations overstimulated you– it was too much, all too much and you gasped for air as he switched it off with the press of his thumb. 

“Shhh, it’s okay baby.” He shushed you, kissing the back of your neck as you came down from your high. “Breathe.”

His palm fell from your mouth, dropping the remote near your leg and you audibly sighed out in relief until you felt his other hand back between your legs. His fingers slid back into your wet heat and your breath hitched, discomfort circling in your abdomen. You were so, so sensitive and all you could think about was how to get your thighs to stop twitching involuntarily. “I’m not fully convinced. How the fuck did you get so wet from a toy?” 

“Eren, hold on, please hold on…” You pleaded, your entire face flushed red and you panted as you felt pleasure seep into the pit of your tummy again. You felt the cover up fall from your waist and you knew you were exposed now, his hand inside your bottoms and-

“Don’t worry, no one’s looking. I promise.” His words flew out in almost one breath as he felt the flutter of your walls against his fingers. He was so fucking hard in his swim shorts, he needed to get his hand on himself so badly but he wanted– needed to watch you squirt from just his fingers. How could such a little toy be so enticing to your pussy when he was right here? In the back of his mind, Eren knew it was probably just the scenario he set up for you, his control over a toy looming over you like a dark cloud. But it still made him fucking jealous.

God, he really wanted to make you squirt in public. He wanted you to fall apart all over his fingers whilst families sat a few feet away, tending to their screaming children or drinking from beer bottles without the slightest clue as to what’s going on right behind them. 

He curled his fingers into you headily, right against your sweet spot and you moaned at the overwhelming feeling hurtling up your spine and fuzzing your mind over. The music had been turned up a notch, you vaguely realized, for your sake. Because you just that fucking loud, mewls and whines coming from you. Eren pressed his dick up against the small of your back harder, grinding into it as he kept pushing into you quickly.

“C’mon, baby...fuck, I know you can squirt.” He groaned into your ear, watching over your shoulder with darkened eyes. He fumbled for the remote again, aiming to turn it on to rush you along but it was too late as you leaked all over his fingers, against the polyester fabric of your swimsuit, and all over Mikasa’s towel. It gushed out of you with a high whimper and you bucked his hips into his fingers in ecstasy. 

“Yeah, that’s it, my God. So much for me…” He cooed, pulling his fingers out and covering you up again with your pull over. He patted your thigh lovingly and you scowled at him, smacking him on his leg hard. 

“Mikasa’s gonna kill me!” You whined out, still out of breath and all Eren did was laugh. 

“Mikasa’s not going to get her towel back.” 

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐄

ㅤㅤdieter bravo x f!reader

genre: smut, pwp, minors dni, friends to lovers? kinda

word count: 1.4k

summary: you and dieter get high on gummies.

warnings: edibles (gummies), heavy petting, high talk, for the sake of this fic the gummy shows affect very quickly, oral (fem receiving), nipple play, dirty talk, dieter is a menace, lots of grinding, also when i say pwp I REALLY mean no plot, just friends making out essentially, everything is %100 consensual

Your eyes widen gradually as you witness Dieter lean closer, his smile boyish as he holds a red gummy between his teeth. 

"Come on," he says, brows curling upwards. "You take half, I take half." 

Your eyes move between the gummy and the gorgeous brown of his eyes. It hadn't been long since you and Dieter started hanging out, not a lot had been shared between you two, other than your love of movies and, surprisingly, tabletop games. 

Staring at his expectant gaze, you burst into a giggle when he wiggles his brows. Finally, with an exasperated exhale, you shake your head and lean closer. 

"Fine, you dork. I don't have work tomorrow anyway." 

"Perfect," he grazes the sugary surface of the gummy against your bottom lip. "Bon Appetit."

You feel the softness of his lips as you bite down into the flesh of the sugary delight. You expect him to move back, for him to immediately chew and swallow, but instead, he lingers, keeping his lips flush against yours as you take half the gummy into your mouth. The sugars dissolve, leaving a bare and imperfect surface. It tastes a bit like strawberry, but it is overwhelmed by the taste of cannabis. 

Wrinkling your nose, you pull away, he laughs. “You’re so dramatic.” 

“Says the Queen of Drama,” you snap back, sticking your tongue. “Also you can’t convince me that this tastes good.” 

“Hey I never said it tasted good, I said it’ll get us high as fuck.” 

“Those were your exact words,” you mutter, leaning back. “So what now? We just wait for the hit?” 

“Pretty much.” Your eyes follow him as he nestles closer, the warmth of his body seeping into your own. A shudder runs up your spine, an involuntary sound escapes your throat. He’s a charmer, that’s for sure. Easy on the eyes. 

He lays a palm over your tight, spreads his fingers. Another shudder. “You like it when I touch you?” 

It’s phrased as a question but, for some reason, you don’t feel like he needs an answer. His thumb begins to draw shallow lines, up and down, over and over. Slick gathers between your legs and without a second thought, you instinctively rub them together. You start to feel it then, the delightful buzz from mother nature. A giggle rises from your throat. 

“This feels really good,” you say, he gently presses his nails down, liquid heat drips from your spine. 

“Which one?” 

You think you don’t understand what he means, but you do. “Both. Both feel good.” 

“Good,” he mutters, his voice dropping. “Come’ere. Let me make you feel even better.” 

He tugs you along until you’re firmly seated on his lap, without a second thought you roll down your hips, feeling the hard line of his cock. Your breath hitches, a tiny moan escaping. Dieter grins as his hands dances along your arms, only stopping to pull you down against his clothed cock. You gasp, a buzzing sensation shooting up your spine. You feel his soft lips on your chin, he nips the skin softly before traveling further down to take a hearty bite from your neck. 

Your hips twitch, your eyes rolling back, “F–Fuck, Dieter—” 

“Feels really good huh?” he licks the salt of your skin, more slick gathers between your legs, your cunt pulsing with need and want. “You’re so sweet—tell me how good I’m making you feel.” 

The words are caught in your throat, your body a live wire as it becomes nothing but melted metal underneath Dieter’s touch, only for him to mold. 

His hands sneak underneath your shirt and with one swift motion, he pulls it off, leaving you in nothing but your bra. You expect him to rip the lace off with the same hunger but instead, he holds the cups and tugs them down, exposing your breasts. He dips down mouth open wide, he sucks a hard nipple into his mouth and moans, his hips sharply thrust up. 

Your eyes flutter closed, he feels too good, every patch of skin tingling. He sucks hard as he rolls his hips over and over, making you feel every inch that you don’t have inside of you. Some part of your heart feels rage for that. You want him. Every inch of him. His fingers begin to play with the other nipple. 

“Tell me what I want to hear baby, or else I’m stopping.” 

“You’re amazing,” you gasp. “I can’t get enough of this…this feeling. Fuck, Dieter—I—I need—” 

His mouth is flush against your ear, you shudder, “I can feel how soaked you are through your sweats, sweetheart. I know exactly what you need.” Momentarily you let out a breath of relief, he would give you what you want, what you need— “Too bad you’re not getting it until I make you come like this first.” 

It’s almost as if someone dropped an icy bucket of water over your head. It clashes with the agonizing warmth he’s making you feel, a cry ripping from your throat, he smiles. 

“W-What? What?” 

“I know this feeling, have experienced it myself,” Dieter grins. “Sit still and enjoy the ride, sweetheart.” 

You choke on a whimper, buckling down against him. Dieter continues his torturous movements, his lips now biting and nipping at your neck while his hands wander down to your soaked sweats. He pulls them down, exposing your throbbing clit to the cool air. Without hesitation, he tightens his fingers around it, his movements hard and fast. 

You can't contain the moans and gasps that escape your lips, your body trembling with pleasure. Dieter's lips move to yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth as his fingers work you into a frenzy. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building up within you. 

Suddenly, he stops, leaving you panting and desperate for release. 

“Please.” 

“Please what?” 

“Let me come, please. Please Dieter.” 

Your begging is getting closer and closer to sounding like dying whispers, tiny dots are starting to appear. You’re on the verge of passing out, in ways you’ve never thought someone could pleasure you. Hypnotized by his eyes and his hand movements as he plugs away yet you can’t help but think about how you’re stuck on pause, yet he looks like he could keep on going. 

"Is that all it takes to get you going?" Dieter's voice is low, his lips red and plump from kissing every patch of skin. He looks at you with a sense of satisfaction, like he's accomplished something great. "I can make you come just from touching you like this."

You moan in frustration, unable to form words as you try to push your hips forward, seeking any sort of relief. Dieter laughs, a dark and hungry sound that reverberates through your body. "I told you, baby, you're not getting to the fun part until you come like this first."

"Dieter, please," you whimper, your voice laced with need. 

He simply grins and stands up, taking you with him. He leads you to the bedroom, pushing you down on the bed before crawling over you, his eyes dark with desire.

"I want to taste you," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. 

He lowers himself between your legs, his tongue flicking over your clit and causing you to writhe beneath him. His tongue moves expertly, teasing and flicking until you can't take it anymore. With a loud cry, you come undone, your body shaking with the intensity of your release. 

Dieter keeps lapping up your wetness, making sure to draw out every last drop of pleasure from you. When he finally pulls away, you're left breathless and sated.

As you lay there, panting and trying to catch your breath, Dieter cuddles up next to you, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. 

"Wow," you say finally, still trying to recover from the intense pleasure he just gave you. "That was...amazing."

"Remind me to get high with you more often," you laugh, finally able to form coherent words.

"Oh, I will definitely be reminding you," Dieter grins, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your back. "But for now, let's just enjoy this high and each other's company."

With a sly smile, you roll on top of him, ready for round two. Dieter's playful smirk mirrors your own as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for another kiss.

You can't help but think that this was just the beginning of a wild, passionate, and exciting journey with Dieter by your side. And you couldn't wait to see where it would take you next.

[catfern]

Cowboy!ellie

Save a horse, ride a cowboy 😉

so um yeah um this was.. yeah

“fu-fuck.”

the bottle of cider clicked and rolled along the floorboards, the drink fizzing and dying in the cracks. ellie’s fingers had nested in your hair, pulling and prying as she lost herself in the taste of you.

the horses needed rest, and the ground was too cold and arid to break camp. ellie cursed under her breath - cheapskate - at the luxury of a hotel. but you had begged, so sweetly, and promised to make it worth her while. 

but she was mean. honey whiskey on her breath, you could hear her smile through the ragged feeling of her hands on your waist, callouses digging bruises into your hip bones. her leg slides up to drag your velvet slick along her thigh and you whine, syrupy and lost.

“what’re you doing?” a teasing whisper against the crook of her neck, the vibrations of your voice run along the ridges of ellie’s body like electricity. she laughs, breathy and wild and rough, and you let yourself fall into its comforts, mistakingly.

“jus’ having my fun, flower.”

“that all i am to you? fun?”

“oh, honey,” ghosts of her hands run along the back of your neck, swimming in your hair. you sigh, before a sharp yank sets your nerves on fire, pulling your face from hiding. her gaze is wildfire, running along the contours of your face, your shape of your cheeks and lips with a molasses, lopsided smile, “you’re everything to me.”

you can feel her heartbeat drumming against your chest, a nervous arrhythmia that traces up and down your body, settled in the base of her palms. it feels like a song, wicked and savage, echoes on your skin. your eyes fall to the arc of her breathing, the swell of her chest and the silhouette of her shoulders against the pillow.

you feel her looking at you. something threatening. her breath is low, “now, what’s goin’ on in your pretty little head?”

her hand is a cage against your cheek, control. desperation pools against your thighs, spreading it along her clothed cunt, a soft gasp falling from her lips as she slowly - painfully slowly - lifts you, watching your slick web from the tone of her leg. her touch runs through you like ichor, and her name rocks from you in distraction.

her charm is lost to the heavy air, and nothing but the rasp of her voice remains, “move.”

her leg shifts against your clit and you nearly scream, collapsing in on yourself and digging your nails into the flesh of her shoulders. ellie holds you steady, letting you gently twist yourself around her existence as you straddle her thigh, your need dripping on her skin, riding the soft burn in your stomach with unaired caution.

ellie wants to play nice, almost desperately wants to, but she’s ever impatient, and she can feel how much you need it. so why aren’t you taking what she’s giving you?

you’re going too slow.

it’s like she possesses you, her hands no longer a guide but a demand as she rocks your body against hers, her fingers pressing into your waist like a brand. your head throws back and a guttural sound rips through you as the tone of her muscle brushes your clit, again, again. ellie has lost herself at the sound of you, to her own abandon. she watches how your pussy slides against her oh so well, a saccharine warmth melting against her skin like gold, chasing more like it was essential to her survival.

“jesus,” her voice is breathy,manic and pussydrunk, “that wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

her question, however mocking, falls on deaf ears. your body is drowning, soft and slow, letting yourself revel in the effervescent role ellie has taken in your life, her feeling everywhere. you surrender yourself to her, let her body rush you as you feel her start to move beneath you, her voice descent to pure desperation as she ruts, and you’re withering. you’re almost bouncing on top of her, her hands moving you relentlessly against her leg as she becomes wretched for her own release.

“ellie, sweet-fuck, it’s too much-too much,” you choke, your voice a pathetic wobble, your clit is stinging as the knot ever-so-tightens in your stomach. pressure, pressure, you’re pushing back against her, trying to give yourself a reprieve from the woman you so foolishly entangled yourself with. her grip is strong,

“jus-shut up! fuck! you feel so good, flower. so fu-ucking good.”

you’re exhausted, but ellie’s hand continues, pushing and pulling you against her like the tide,

“don’t you dare fucking stop.”

[ranticore]

you mentioned wyrms retract the human-ish head to eat, do you have an idea of how that works, anatomically? I'm trying to imagine a cross section of those necks with separate tubes for air, food, the head and the spine. does the head get packed tight in some kind of sleeve? It would be really cool to see that cross section

(also would love to know more about the time Rev spent as a disembodied head, that must have been really weird)

well i was meaning to draw it anyway

the "human" portion (referred to as the head yes all of it) has its own heart, lungs, and accessory oesophagus, though it doesn't have its own stomach. there's a little crop which is the remains of the human stomach, kind of like an appendix now really. the accessory oesophagus (green) connects to the main crop in the chest area, running parallel to the dragon oesophagus but not attaching to it. when the head is out, the dragon mouth is occupied anyway so it doesn't need to eat and the oesophagus is a squishy tube that is collapsed when not in use (unlike the trachea) so there's no issues with space here, it's fine.

the lungs in the head area are only minorly used for gas exchange - they provide very little oxygen, really, but enough to keep that human part running in a very hypoxic state in the case of decapitation. Mostly they're just used to draw air over the vocal chords. If the lungs in the main body were compromised somehow, the wyrm would straight up cease to function (not death. but comatose), while if the head lungs broke, eh nbd it just means no voice until they heal. there is a syrinx inside the chest cavity which provides additional vocals - deep infrasound rumbles. the main lungs are gigantic and in larger wyrms will extend further into the body. in the case of multiple heads, there are multiple syrinxes where the tracheas connect to the lungs and that means they can produce polyphonic rumbles :) breathing is done through the dragon nostrils, there's a sizeable cavity there for their good sense of smell. in case you are wondering how they sync up their breaths when there's multiple heads, the lungs are birdlike in that it's a series of air sacs and a passive inhalation, and an active exhalation governed by different lobes of the lung at once (using the air sacs). each head has its own lobe. so the wyrm is in a constant state of inhaling and exhaling at different rates (if there's multiple heads)

the dragon oesophagus is the main one and it leads to a crop, which is where the wyrm denatures the powerful toxins of their prey and forms a pellet out of the inedible mandibles and spicules found within a crawling beast. this is spat up later and buried (no longer poisonous so nbd). edible portions go to the stomach. the liver is very big and very strong, it's almost impossible to poison a wyrm in any way (including drugs, alcohol, etc)

so the thing about the wyrms is that the number of legs is variable, Revelation obviously has two, Onozar has four. But the two that Revelation has are actually its forelegs! The torso extends quite a bit into what we would consider the Tail area, it's rather snakelike.

as a disembodied head, Rev had no heart, no functioning lungs, and was also completely paralysed because of the severed nerve cord in its (human) neck. literally from the jaw down it couldn't move, which is what made it such a convincing corpse. life was very underwhelming for it since it was essentially running on extreme battery saver mode, always watching and sensing the world but never truly perceiving what it saw and heard and felt. animals made nests in its chest cavity, and it was infested with scavenging worms for a while, but its own flesh is distasteful to other living beings and nothing did enough damage to actually cause decomposition. just some nasty wounds.

Rev needed Wildfire to literally rip up a crawler and put the meat in its mouth before any attempts at healing could be made. when it finally got its lungs working again it found they were full of detritus - dust, spores, roots, random stuff. growing back the lower body would have taken decades more if it continued at the same pace, so it used a little bit of magic and Wildfire's other tiercels' flesh to construct the most basic shape of its lower body, and once it had those bits intact it could start properly gaining strength and growing.

[iliketangerines]

desparate bunny

a/n: for @spacepl4ant and @partycatty

pairing: bunny!johnny x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), pussy eating, creampies

you open the door to your home, kicking off your shoes and throwing the keys onto the counter as you shrugged your bag off your back and onto the floor

Johnny was immediately by your side, ears upturned and tail wagging furiously enough that his hips wiggled, and you let out a little laugh as he falls down to his knees and nuzzles into your stomach with his face, breathing in your scent

you bring your hand down to ruffle his hair, and he whines into your shirt, pleading with you to please please please let him fuck you, his hands gripping onto your thighs like a lifeline as he tries to part them to nuzzle into your crotch

his hips rut against your leg, and you can feel how hard he is even through your pants

you sigh, frowning a little bit, you had a few things you had to get done, namely the laundry, but you suppose it could wait considering how desperate Johnny was right now

and well, it was a bit of a treat to see him so desperate for you

conceding to him, Johnny brightens up, picks you up, and throws you over his shoulder effortlessly, making you let out a little squeak as he hurries back to the bedroom

his little tail wiggles furiously, and you reach your hand down to squeeze it as a warning for Johnny to slow down and listen to your orders

you hear him give a little whine and mumble an apologize as he lays you down gently onto the bed, immediately going to nuzzle his head into your neck and scent you

his body lays into you, pressing into you as if he was trying to become one with you, and he grinds into you desperately, moaning loudly as he finally relieves the pressure he had been feeling

your hand comes up to tug on his hair as he scents you while your other hand traces shapes into his clothed back, and you spread your legs just a little bit so he can settle his hips into you a little further

Johnny ruts against your cunt, and he finally parts from your neck to look at you

it’s a beautiful sight, watery eyes, a slightly pouty look, and he looks at you as if you’re the only one in the world for him

you smile up at him and cradle his face, pulling his head down for a quick kiss, and he whines into your mouth, his hands coming down to tug on your pants and pull them down your legs

parting from the kiss, you laugh and move your hands to pull your pants off, barely kicking them off before Johnny was on you again

he buries his face into your cunt, licking at you like a man starved despite your panties still clothing you, and he uses his arms to pin your thighs to your stomach, essentially folding you in half and completely spread you for him

he mouths at you, wetting the cloth further, as he presses his nose into you and his tongue further in, making the cloth stick to you

it intensifies every feeling as your panties rub against you, and you let out a small whimper as he continues to mouth at you through the cloth

but finally, Johnny grows impatient at the barrier, and he moves one of his hands down to rip it off, making you gasp and bring your hand down to tug harshly on his ears

he lets out a high-pitched keen, staring up at you with glossed over eyes, and you stare back at him with a growl, telling him that he owes you a new set of panties and an apology

almost immediately, he says sorry, saying that he’s just so desperate for you, please he won’t do it again, please please please, he just needs a taste of you first

satisfied with the apology for now, you let go of his sensitive ears, and tell him to make you cum on his tongue and only his tongue, or he doesn’t get to fuck you tonight

Johnny immediately dives in, nosing at you and burying his tongue deep, and he moans at the taste, his hums sending vibrations through you and making you bite your lip to suppress a moan

you wanted to hear his whimper and whines, how needy he was for you right now, and he was making the sweetest sounds

your challenge for him wasn’t that hard to be honest, he had made you cum countless times with barely a touch, and this time was no different as you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge

he brings his mouth up, sucking on your clit and staring up at you with tears falling down as his hands squeeze at your plush thighs, and it’s enough to make you clench around nothing and cum, drenching his chin

he eagerly drinks up your release, lapping at your sweet taste, and you listen to his whimpers as he finishes cleaning you up and finally move

his hands take off his pants quickly, throwing them to the side, and his cock feels heavy as he lines himself up and ruts against you, his hands pushing you back into the folded position to expose you to him

his just slides his cock through your folds for a minute, panting into the air as he moans, and his little bunny ears downturn as he continues to rut against you

finally though, he lines himself up, and he presses into you, whining at the feeling and nearly cumming into your pussy immediately

he stays still for just a moment to calm himself, and you look up at him with adoring eyes, admiring the blush on his cheeks, his shut eyes, and the slight tremble of his bottom lip as he tries to control himself

the moment of calm passes quickly, and he starts rutting into you, hips obnoxiously slapping into yours

every thrust bumps against your clit, and it sends stars through your vision, making you struggle to keep your eyes open as you watch Johnny completely lose himself in the feeling of you

he’s desperate to cum inside of you, and he whines into the air pathetically as he lets go of your legs to pick your hips up into the air and bounce you in time with his thrusts

the angle makes him hit deeper, his cock abusing that one sweet spot inside of you to make you feel like stars are exploding along every nerve, and he seems to know because he’s fucking into you faster and harder than before while begging you to cum

his hands dig bruises into your hips, and the filthy sound of your fucking fills your ears, making you go over the edge another time

you clench around him, and Johnny whimpers at the feeling, burying himself deep into you and cumming inside

he stays there for a while, just letting himself soften inside of you, and you let him hold himself inside as he gently lays your hips back down onto the bed

Johnny slides out, climbing down and lazily lapping at your pussy to clean you up, his arms pinning your hips down onto the bed as he thrusted his tongue in and out of you to get every drop

it brings you another lazy orgasm, one to end the night with, and you moan into the air as he makes you reach your high once more

finally he climbs back up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and cuddles up to you, and you smile up at him, reaching your hands up to massage his ears as he nuzzles into you

though you do have to say, you were a bit surprised, typically Johnny lasts a lot longer than just one times

you climb out of the bed to start the laundry and take a shower, and as you look at your clothes, you find the reason why he only came once tonight

your panties laid on the top of the pile, each of them stained with his cum, and you look back at a guilty looking Johnny sitting up on the bed

his ears down turned, and his nose twitching as you let out a controlled sigh of anger

you tell him to wash your panties thoroughly, cum stains were hard to get out of clothing, and you’re off to take a relaxing shower, without Johnny

he whines at your order, but you send him a glare and he shuts up and gets moving

you were definitely going to get him back for this later, but for now, you needed a hot bath

[emhm]

Coffee? Please?

Let me preface this by saying; I am not disabled and this is not about 'urgent' vet bills.

[I have an outstanding debt to pay in that regard, but the monthly payment is small and the service was already done. It was the amputation for our kitten Lucky's dead front leg.]

I do have a job and the pay is too good to quit. I work 40 hours a week and I spend almost 13 more hours just driving to and from work because our boss 'can't find a work assignment closer to where I live.' Up until about two weeks ago my partner was also working 40 hours a week on an opposing shift. We were just starting to get on top of our crushing pile of monthly bills. Then she lost her work assignment [not her fault] and he couldn't find anything else for her to do. So she lost a whole weeks pay. He found her a place, but now she's only getting 24 hours a week instead of 40. And we were already struggling to pay for the bare essentials. I was hoping so hard to just have something left when the bills were paid. But my entire tax return was used to pay for overdue bills and it still wasn't all of them.

-We have not had a working washing machine since September. Almost all of my ancient towels have rotted and ripped apart from trying to hang dry them to avoid killing the dryer too.

-Our house does not have central heat or air so we've been freezing for months with no money to buy wood for the stove. [It's warmer now but still in the low 40s at night where I am.]

-We have been flushing the toilet with buckets of water for almost a year because hiring a plumber is not happening.

-For over a year we have been fighting the flea infestation caused by the deadbeat trash-pit roommate we had to force to move out. They're biting me as well as the cats and I'm allergic to them. So I constantly have a rash on my feet and ankles. We never have money for flea drops consistently enough to get rid of them and I do not have a working vacuum to get rid of the flea eggs in the carpet.

-I just had to take on $1200 worth of debt because my tires were bald from my ungodly commute and they told me the brakes need replacing very soon.

-Our youngest cat Lucky will need to be fixed soon because she's almost old enough to go into heat. [She's indoors only but I don't want to deal with the screaming.]

Our predatory mortgage payment is almost $2000 a month with all their shitty add-on fees. My car payment is $334. The internet is $87. The power is usually $125. Car insurance is about $115. Garbage is $65. Our car is shared and I go through 1 tank +1/4 tank of gas EVERY WEEK. I owe both Sunbit AND Carecredit. We're both estranged from abusive parents and have no other family to turn to in an emergency.

I can't ask for money for fanfic. I know that's unethical and illegal.

But I can tell you that I write better/faster/more when I'm not distracted by gut-wrenching despair, crippling anxiety attacks and the bone-deep fear of quickly losing my home because I'm always two missed paychecks away from disaster. I know pretty much everyone is in the same boat, and my problems aren't unique or special.

But anything helps.

I have several hundred dollars in overdue bills from last month and it's already time for the next month's to start arriving. I feel so hopeless and I don't know what else to do besides resorting to begging.

I just set up a Ko-fi account - https://ko-fi.com/followmeontumblr

My Paypal is attached to this old email address - Nightshade518@yahoo.com

I have an Etsy shop with some things for sale - https://www.etsy.com/shop/PatchworkLaboratory

I also have a Spoonflower shop with fabric featuring my designs. [I only make $1.50 per yard that people buy though.] - https://www.spoonflower.com/profiles/infamousdoctorf

And for anyone who was kind enough to read this whole thing- I do have some NSFW sketches I've drawn for "Eclipse Meets His Match" that I have nowhere safe to post. If you're bold enough to direct-message me with the line-

"I swear on all I hold holy that I am not a minor. Show me the art."

I'll let you see them. Thank you either way.

-Doc

[h-c-u]

No handlebars

Summary: A brat being a brat by finding a loophole in the rule. 

Pairing: Toto Wolff x fem!reader

W/C: 4.1k

Rating: +18, age gap, dom/sub, oral sex (male receiving), cumplay, slight humiliation kink, dry-humping, tiny bit of aftercare

A/N: No plot. Pure filthy smut, so obligatory you are responsible for the media you consume. It's literally just a blowjob with some humping, nothing else. You have been warned <3

Masterlist | List of tags

You hated waking up alone, but you accepted it due to how different your sleep schedule was from Toto's, and you loved him, so it was a small sacrifice. While he was often up with the first rays of the sun, you could kill someone if they woke you up before 10 AM. And even that was pushing it if they didn't have a fresh coffee or something sweet as a bribe. So you weren't exactly happy when the loud sound of the doorbell ripped you from the blissful arms of Morpheus and plunged you into a much too cold and too empty bed. Usually, you would just go back to sleep, but today was one of those days when your need to touch and to be held was just too high. 

Even though there was no one there to hear it, the loud, annoyed groan left your mouth. You kicked your feet to throw the duvet from your body, exposing yourself to the cold air, because of course his damn Austrian ass just had to open the window. You could almost hear "Lüften is healthy for you, Schatzi" in his voice when you were closing it. Your bare feet on the hardwood floor didn't help your mood. Your face was donning a sour look when you came downstairs in search of the attention you craved, so when you saw an opened laptop and the cell phone in Toto's hand, you weren't exactly pleased.

He was fully dressed, even though it was well before noon on the weekend, which meant that he had already left the house, but now he was back, and it was all that mattered. With making as little sound as possible, so the microphone in his phone wouldn't pick it up, you stepped behind the couch, first making sure he wasn't in any sort of virtual meeting.

You gently grabbed his attention by rubbing your cheek on the top of his head and placing a soft kiss on his temple. He hummed, acknowledging your presence, but his focus was still on the many, many graphs on the screen. But today you were feeling bratty, so instead of leaving him alone, you playfully bit his ear, which resulted in him giving you a warning look. However, in your head, it was a success, because he turned around from the laptop, so not only you did do it again, this time a little bit harder, but you also pulled the neckline of his shirt down and slithered your hands under the blue material in search of more skin-to-skin contact. When you did that, Toto roughly grabbed your wrists and pulled you by them over the backrest of the sofa. With a quiet yelp, you landed on the seat on your back, with your legs draped over the pillows. But despite his abrupt reaction, there was no anger or even annoyance on his face, so you knew you could push back even more. 

You stayed still for a moment, letting him think that you were subdued, and his grip on your wrists loosened, which was exactly what you were waiting for. With a devilish smile (which he, fortunately, didn't notice), you quickly parted your wrists, forcing his fingers apart and freeing yourself. His gaze instantly snapped to you, but you were already conducting your sneaky attack. You rolled down the couch, landing on his lap, essentially straddling him. You smushed your face against his chest and wrapped your arms under his shoulders, pinning him to the couch with your body. He could easily overpower you, but instead, he just sighed with resignation, leaned back, and put his free hand in between your shoulder blades, keeping you where you were, while he continued talking over the phone. You didn't even pay attention to his words, focusing on the low timbre of his voice and how it vibrated deep in his chest. 

You were absorbing his warmth like a sponge, and you could feel your body relaxing against his, the annoyance and frustration from before melting away and slowly being replaced by something else because the heat you were stealing from him seemed to be pooling in your abdomen. Without looking at Toto's face, you experimentally rolled your hips over his. He quickly moved his hand to the back of your neck, where he gave you a warning squeeze, but your brattiness won, so instead of behaving, you slowly moved your hands down in between your bodies and started gently pulling out his shirt from his trousers. When there was enough space to slither under the material, you did just that and ran your fingernails over his stomach. And that was enough for him. 

He grabbed you stronger by your neck and pushed you from his lap to the floor, so you were kneeling in between his legs. 

- Keep. Your hands. To yourself. - he growled, covering the microphone in his phone with his hand and you pouted in response. You wanted to touch him, to have his skin rubbing against yours, but instead, he was mean and refused to give you that. Well, maybe if you asked nicely for it, he would be more lenient, but now... Now you couldn't do anything with your hands.

But he didn't say anything about other parts of your body... With an almost theatrical flair, you moved your hands behind your back, where you crossed your wrists, indicating that you were planning on following the rule he just established. You remained still for a good moment, yet again lulling him into a false sense of security, and when you realized he was about to make a longer comment about something he heard on the other side of the line, you finally made your move. 

Still kneeling in between his legs, you shifted up and forward, so your face was getting closer to his crotch, but he didn't stop you, even though he definitely could. Instead, he just raised his eyebrow, curious about how you will proceed. With your teeth, you grabbed the thick leather of his belt and with very small moves at first, you started pulling it out of the buckle. It took you a good minute to achieve that, but you did it without breaking a rule, so it was worth it. And if by keeping your hands to yourself, you rubbed even more against the material of his trousers with your cheeks and chin... Well... You were just abiding by his words.

With a smug smile, you finally pulled the leather out of the metal bar, but there was still a long way ahead of you, and you could already feel him growing because of the additional stimulation. Now it was time to pull the prong out of the hole it was nested in. You knew it would be much harder, so you adjusted your position a little and moved even closer, sliding your head in such a way that the freed part of the belt was resting on your cheek, giving you more access. You tried to dislodge the prong with your tongue, but there was too much pressure on it and even though you could do wonderful things with your tongue, it wasn't strong enough to completely unbuckle the belt, so you tried again, this time with your teeth, but there was not enough space for you to properly grab that stubborn spike. You huffed with annoyance and retreated for a moment, trying to come up with the best strategy.

Eventually, you got as close as possible to the buckle and grabbed the leather there with your teeth and pulled; it put more pressure around his waist, but less on the prong, to the point, that when you angled it correctly, you were able to dislodge the spike with your nose. You instantly let go of the belt, grabbed the prong with your teeth, and started pulling, eventually freeing the belt from the buckle. You would lie if you said that you weren't pleased with yourself, but you were far from done. 

When you looked up to see his reaction, there was a very tiny smile in the corner of his mouth, which meant that he was enjoying your struggles and desperation, so you dove right back in, this time giving your full attention to the button. You grabbed the material just next to it with your teeth and tried to pull it back on an angle to see if the button would be able to slip out on its own, but unfortunately, it didn't, so you pulled in the other direction, putting your tongue to good use. It took you a few tries, but eventually, you were able to push the button through and get to the zipper, which was the easiest part of the whole challenge. 

With your teeth you moved the now redundant material down and to the sides, exposing his pants, but you didn't remove it right away. Instead, you rubbed your cheeks over it, exposing a small wet patch of precum, over which you almost immediately closed your mouth, and started sucking, not caring that you were soaking his underwear. You chased his faint taste for over a minute, feeling him grow and harden under his pants, until the band was no longer flush with his abdomen, which almost instantly made you grin, but you didn't move it just yet. Instead, you traveled with your mouth down his shaft, until you got to the base. With the material already stretched around his length, it was hard to close your mouth around his balls, but after some maneuvering with your tongue, you were able to do so, and you started running your tongue over them, soaking the thin cotton even more. 

You chose this moment to look up again... Toto was lazily leaning back on the sofa, resting his head on the pillows. Even from this angle, you were able to tell that his lips were parted, and his breathing was much shallower than it was around fifteen minutes ago, but he still had full control over his reactions. His voice was steady, his thoughts were clear, and he was simply enjoying the ride you were taking him on. So, you slowly moved back up, grabbed the edge of the material with your teeth, and pulled it down, fully exposing his cock. 

Only now he reacted. He held the phone to his ear with his shoulder, and with both hands started gathering your hair into a ponytail, which he tied with a hairband that was permanently on his wrist just for this reason. He loved getting you messy, but he also knew that you hated when your hair was sticking to your face, so he was happy to compromise if that meant more blowjobs. With an innocent smile, he ran his thumb around your mouth, gathering the excess saliva you managed to smear, brought his finger to his lips, and licked it clean without breaking eye contact. You truly didn't know how the hell he managed to stay so collected, composed, and able to carry a conversation about the aerodynamics of the front wing, and you just knew it would take a while, so there was no reason for you to hurry. 

His pretty dark pink tip was almost begging you to close your lips around it and lick a drop of precum that already managed to gather on the top since you freed him, but instead of focusing on it, you placed a row of wet, sloppy kisses down the whole length until you reached the balls again. This time without any barrier, taking care of them was easy. With his cock pressed against your cheek, you focused on each one individually gently taking them in your mouth and slowly running your flattened tongue over them. You took your time carefully licking them, softly sucking, running your pointed tongue in the especially sensitive places. You even lifted them with your nose at one point and sucked on that soft spot just underneath. But as much as you loved playing with them, they weren't the main attraction, so you gave a few long licks from the base back to the tip, where you gathered the precum with your tongue and swallowed those few drops, enjoying the slightly salty and sweet taste. 

With your hands still behind your back, you loosely closed your mouth around the head. Without using much pressure, you ran your tongue over the tip, trying to scoop as much of the white fluid as you could, and only when there was nothing left, you started sucking. Gently at first, but soon it wasn't enough, so you closed your lips tighter and ran your tongue around the whole head in chase of his taste, flicking a few times on that specific sensitive spot. Careful not to accidentally scratch him with your teeth, you started moving a little bit lower, but not much; you wanted to have some fun too, after all. You could easily get him off much quicker, but that was not the point of this whole ordeal. It was about finding fun and pleasure within the rules. Well... Maybe pushing them just a little bit... 

You let your saliva run down his shaft, but you quickly followed and smeared it around, so your lips could slide easier up and down when you eventually decided that it was time for that. But for now, you came back up and let him slip out of your mouth for a moment, allowing the tip to catch on your lower lip and roll it down a little. And when you looked further up, the head of his cock slid over your chin. You couldn't help but smile when you saw the way he was looking at you, because there was no more powerful feeling than the knowledge you were being desired by the person your whole heart belonged to. 

Without breaking eye contact you gave a few short licks under the tip, tracing the edge of the head with your pointed tongue and then you finally dove down. You let his cock slide down your tongue only closing your lips around it in about half of the length. As much as you wanted to swallow it whole in one go, you knew your skills well enough to know that you still needed some preparation, especially without your hands acting as a buffer as you were getting more comfortable with him deeper. So, for now, you took your sweet time giving him a slow and sloppy blowjob, careful not to put too much pressure, because you didn't want your playtime to end too early. 

You knew Toto loved getting you messy, so besides taking him as deep as you currently could, you were also placing rows of wet kisses down his length letting the top part of his shaft smear your own saliva mixed with his precum around your mouth, cheeks, and chin. You knew you must have been a sight like that... With pure desperation and want in your beautiful doe eyes, face glistening from the wetness of your own doing, lips stretched around his girth and around three-quarters of his length buried in your throat. He just couldn't help himself and put his big hand on the back of your head. His touch made you inhale sharply, which with his cock breaching your throat made you choke, so you quickly retreated and gasped for air; you were just hoping that the microphone in his phone wasn't sensitive enough to catch it, because up until now, you managed to keep all the noises to the minimum. 

There were strings of drool connecting your lower lip to the tip of his cock, and you followed them, catching everything on your tongue and diving back in. This time you were prepared for his hand guiding you deeper than you would have gone on your own, so you timed your breathing accordingly, but then he pushed your head harder until your nose was smushed against his abdomen, and he kept you there. At first, you didn't mind, but with every passing second your heart started beating faster, because you realized that it was only a matter of time before you start to gag. You did your best to hold your breath for as long as possible. The tears slowly gathered in your eyes while you wordlessly begged him to let you go up for air, but he continued the conversation as if you weren't getting lightheaded with his dick completely sheathed in your throat. 

You were losing a battle with your own body, but you still didn't use your safety gesture, having complete trust that he wouldn't put you in any true danger. But eventually, your body lost and gasped for air. Only there was a foreign object blocking your airways, so you immediately started choking and gagging, producing a river of saliva that ran down your chin and soaked in the material of his trousers. After about five seconds of this torture, he pulled on your head roughly and when you looked at him all messed up, your face read, tears streaming from your eyes and covered in your own drool, he just smirked and raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

And just for a second, you hated yourself for how your body was reacting, because now not only your face was wet. You groaned and nodded, answering the unasked question. In response, he pointed his chin towards his foot, glanced at it for a very short moment, and you understood immediately what he meant, so you shimmied closer until you were able to grind on that place where his ankle met his shin, and when you rolled your hips for the first time, you just couldn't stop the breathy moan that left your mouth.

Instead of scolding you, he just guided you toward his cock again to silence you. This time he let you keep control over the tempo because you already got what he wanted from the previous interaction, but he didn't move his hand from your head; its heavy weight was weirdly giving you comfort. This time muscle memory took over and you instinctively relaxed your jaw and throat when slowly taking him deeper, but you were too horny and too greedy to toy with him, so you quickly picked up speed. It took you a good minute to find a good rhythm between moving your head and grinding your hips, but when you did, you started moving even quicker, not even realizing that Toto ended his phone call and threw his head back, fully enjoying what you were doing. Your hands were still behind your back, which he secretly admired and cataloged in his head for future use. 

You were so focused on chasing your own release, that you lost your balance for a second, which resulted in you gagging again, but you were so close that you didn't care and allowed your throat to spasm around his cock and buried your face in his pubic hair, now focusing only on grinding your hips in erratic movements. You were so desperate to cum that you didn't care that you couldn't breathe and that you were in pain, so when Toto grabbed you roughly by the hair and pulled you back, you cried out loud, because you wanted... no, needed that to cum. You wanted to protest, to argue that you were a good girl, that you followed instructions just so he could let you finish with your mouth closed around his beautiful cock, but before you managed to say a word, you felt the first load of his cum landing on your cheek. And then another... And another. Until almost your whole face was painted with his sticky, warm release. 

You didn't realize that you closed your eyes, so completely lost this near the edge so you yelped in surprise when he angled his foot up, putting more pressure on your clit, and you resumed grinding almost instantly, now focusing only on chasing your own orgasm. You didn't even know when, but you wrapped your arms around his leg as you were helplessly humping it like an animal in heat, without a drop of care about what others would think if they saw you like that. Because all that mattered was what Toto thought, and the adoration in his eyes when you were so broken and vulnerable, with all the inhibition thrown out the window told you everything you needed to know. 

He leaned down and started gathering his own cum from your face with his tongue, and when he got enough, his hand traveled from the back of your head to your throat, where he put pressure on your artery, cutting the supply of oxygenated blood to your brain. He didn't have to tell you to open your mouth, because you were breathing heavily so close to orgasm, so he was able to latch onto them and through a sloppy kiss, feed you the first portion of his load, but you barely registered the familiar taste. He didn't even wait for you to swallow before he went back to gather more. And then again. Until there was nothing left on your face, and you were able to look at him without fear of cum dripping into your eyes. Your pupils were blown wide open from the arousal and the lack of oxygen; you were so close... You just needed...

- You can cum... - he said just as he released the grip on your throat, allowing a fresh wave of oxygen to flood and overload your brain. You came almost immediately after he said those words. Your eyes rolled back into your skull when a wave of intense pleasure rushed through your body and pulled you under the surface, but your hips rolled a few more times without your control until you drenched Toto's food and the carpet underneath with your release. His low chuckle reached you in the darkness of the semi-consciousness you were currently wrapped in. Your still twitching body was leaning on his leg, with your arms tightly wrapped around his knee, your torso bent and your head resting on his clothed thigh. You were breathing heavily, and you had to close your eyes again, still processing what just happened.

The first thing you consciously registered was a familiar, slightly salty taste on your tongue and a faint smile crawled onto your lips, while you gently rubbed your cheek over the material of his trousers, grounding yourself back in reality. And when you eventually did, you looked up at the love of your life with a silent request in your eyes. You didn't have to say anything more, because just as you relaxed your arms and reached for him, he was already reaching to pull you up onto his lap, not caring about the mess you made from his clothes, the couch, and the carpet. In the end, it didn't matter, it all could be cleaned or replaced, but you... There was not a chance there was another creature in this world so perfectly made for him. 

You rested your head on his chest, right under his chin, while his hands were tracing unrecognizable shapes over your body. Eventually, your breathing calmed down and you could no longer feel your heartbeat in the tiniest parts of your body, so you closed your eyes just for a moment, allowing yourself to enjoy his closeness, his touch, his scent, which was what kept you awake in the first place. So, when that need was satisfied, it wasn't long before your exhausted and pushed to an extreme body drifted right back to sleep, in the environment your mind considered as the safest in the world. 

Your consciousness resurfaced just once, when no part of him was touching you, and you groaned in protest, slowly realizing that he carried you back to bed and laid you in it.

- Don't leave me... - you whispered so quietly, that in your still fogged-up mind, you weren't sure if he heard it. But the shifting weight on the mattress behind you told you that he did.

- Never... - he placed a soft kiss right behind your ear, as he got closer, so his now naked torso pressed against your back, and his arms wrapped tightly around you. - I love you. - you heard just before you drifted away again, but it was too late for you to reply. 

Normally he wouldn't be caught dead in bed this late in the morning, but it was what you required, and he would always take care of you in any and every way you needed, no matter how twisted or soft. 

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.

[wosowrites]

Against All Odds (Jessie Fleming x Reader)

warnings: none

prompt: in which reader is a super buff boxer but gets all soft around Jessie, making Jessie’s teammates tease her.

a/n: for @woso-scotland

Growing up with 5 older brothers meant one thing. Chaos. The only time you all got along was when you were watching boxing on the TV. However, when you were 11, the middle child, Jacob, died. You had never heard the house so quiet, it haunted you to this day. He had only been 15.

But, 11 year old you wanted to make your family feel better, she wanted to give her family back the five boxers for children they had before the accident.

That’s why when you told your father you wanted to take up boxing, he didn’t say no. Your dad was your biggest fan. He came to every game, gave you tips until you were too good for them, and supported you through everything including your coming out. You were the only person in the family that had continued boxing, your brothers turning into architects, police officers and family men while you stayed nose deep in the world of boxing.

By the time you were 20, you were incredibly well known in the boxing world, and at the same time, a certain 20 year old was growing a name for herself too. Only in the football industry. However you would only meet Jessie Fleming years later at a gym…

You were ripped, to say the least. But not the kind of ripped that would go noticed to everyone. You wore hoodies and sweatpants and it made your build discreet, but the second you were in a sports bra and shorts it was undeniable you could take anybody in a fight.

Jessie met you at the supermarket in London. It was the middle of COVID and your boxing season has been cut short. You were wearing light blue Columbia sweatpants and a matching crewneck with a black mask. Your sneakers were white, but just barely as you only left your house for essentials.

You had always lived in LA which made the sudden move to London, England shocked to your family. But you knew you needed to get away from the world during this virus thing.

You turned the corner, holding a basket in your hand which was filled with vegetables, milk, fruit and some protein bars. As you did, you felt a cart come crashing into your legs and sending you flying backwards, landing on the ground.

"Oh my god! I’m so sorry," the young woman squealed, quickly leaving her spot behind the cart and rushing to your side. "It’s okay, i’m fine," you laughed, rubbing you knees and standing up. "I’m- Im so sorry I was just lost in my own mind and I didn’t see you," she apologized again. "What are you, Canadian? Enough apologies. I’m okay," you teased. "How did you know?" she asked, helping you place your own groceries back into your basket. "Know what?" you questioned, only realizing now how beautiful the girl in front of you was, or at least what you could see of her was. "That i’m canadian?" she said.

"Oh. I didnt. I was just kidding, but that makes sense now, and the accent," you laughed. "Okay American," she clapped back, rolling her eyes teasingly. "I feel like i’ve seen you somewhere," you said to her, narrowing your eyes. "Uh- no. Probably not. I’m your average girl," she said.

"So am I," you said.

The next week, you saw her again. This time, you had just come from the gym so you had on shorts and a tank top, showing off your features. Jessie was there too. "Hey!" she said to you as you met her in. the dairy alley. "Hi. How are you?" you asked her. "I’m good. And you’re jacked," she said, not so discreetly passing her eyes over your body. Usually, someone staring at you like that would make you self conscious, but the way Jessie did it made you feel good.

"Uh, yeah," you laughed. "Oh my god. When I left here last week I thought i recognized you too. That’s because you… box, right? On TV! A few of my teammates have a crush on you. They hate boxing but they love watching you," she laughed. "Oh really now? Well I don’t really care what they think but I care what you do. Because I recognize you too. Jessie Fleming, olympic athlete, two times world cup attender, and Chelsea player," you said, listing her honours.

"Stalker," she accused. "Yeah," you smiled. "Okay well how about I get to know you through another mechanism than google," you suggested. "You mean a date?" she asked, clearly blushing. "I do,"

But then the whole world went into lockdown again and your dates were more like king calls till midnight and face time dates.

Everything worked out though, because on this day of April 14th 2023, you were dating and more in love than ever.

Jessie’s Canadian teammates found out first. You had travelled to Ottawa with her for the celebration tour of winning the Olympics. Jessie had a video of you screaming your guts out by yourself in your apparement when they won the games. You were yelling, crying, and got a noise complaint the next day. But you didn’t care. All you wanted to do with your life was support your girlfriend, and that’s all she wanted to do with hers.

So, that’s how you found yourself front row in tiny little place TD stadium, sitting on a chair that was a little tight on your quads. Jessie scored a penalty, mimicking the one she did at the Olympics and you yelled for that too. You were probably the only American that loved the Canadian team more than anything.

After the game, the team walked around clapping to the fans and when Jessie got to you she stopped and hugged you over the barrier. "Come down, the security here is light," she said to you. So you climbed over the railing and hopped onto the turf. "Janine!" Jessie called, ushering over a blonde who had been talking to a man who looked like her brother. Janine jogged over and looked at you with wide eyes. You were pretty menacing to people who didn’t know you. "This is… y/n, my girlfriend," Jessie said. "You’re- your what?!! How long have you been together?" Janine asked. "Um, well we’ve been taking it slow a year but we made it official like six months ago," Jessie said. "Six. Months?!" Janine whisper yelled. "Hi, I’m y/n," you said, sticking your hand out.

Janine had clearly forgotten you were there as her her snapped towards you in confusion. "Oh, sorry. Hi, I’m Janine Beckie," she said. "Y/n Y/l/n," you smiled, shaking it. "Like the boxer?" she asked. "Uh, yeah," you laughed.

The introductions were then made in the Canada locker room which was even scarier as what felt like hundreds of pairs of eyes were on you.

"Okay. So I don’t do this… it’s not my thing but I thought after keeping our… relationship… secret for months you guys deserved to know. This is my girlfriend, y/n. And yeah she’s the boxer," Jessie said.

You blushed furiously and smiled at the girls who started asking questions all at once. "How did you meet?"

"She hit me." you said. "Okay woah! You need to add context there," Jessie laughed. "She hit me with her shopping cart," you added.

"Okay and what are your intentions. Because this is Baby Canada right here and she can’t play with a broke heart," Chappy said, summoning her motherly side. "My intentions are to never let her go a day without feeling loved and supported. My intentions are to… watch her play with a smile on my face and make sure she knows that she is the most wonderful person I have ever met. My intentions are to go broke because I buy all of her jerseys," you said, ranting a little bit.

"Okay softie," Stephanie said, winking over at Jessie and giving her a thumbs up. "Sorry to do this y/n but the post game talk is just for players. Gotta kick you out," Bev said, heading towards the door. "Oh right. Okay well it was nice meeting you all," you said. You turned to Jessie and gave her a quick kiss on the lips which she responded by placing her hand against your abs and kissing back before you left the room.

The second you closed the door chatter erupted in the room. "Okay Fleming I see your type now," Vanessa teased.

Teasing and more teasing echoed in the room, Even Bev chipped in.

But eventually calm settled over TD place and Bev started the post game talk.

The Chelsea girls found out about Jessie’s relationship at the start of the season… by accident.

You had called her after practice to let her know that your car had broken down on the side of this little street in the middle of suburb London and you were lost. She answered your call in the changing room.

"Hey Jess, can you come get me? My car broke down and the car repair people came and got it but they couldn’t give me a ride. I’m literally standing in this random street that looks like it’s in the middle of a forest," you groaned down the phone. "What? Are you okay?" she asked. "Yeah. Im fine, just… it’s gonna rain soon Jess. I was coming home from visiting a friend and-"

"Babe, I’ll be there as soon as possible. Send me your location," Jessie said and then hung up.

"Babe?" Magda asked, the whole room silent. "Yeah. I have a girlfriend by the way and her car broke down so I gotta go get her," Jessie said, quickly putting on a matching adidas hoodie and shorts and stuffing her belongings into her gym bag. "Jessie! You’re giving four people a ride home. It’s your carpool day. Which means…" Niahm started saying.

"You are not coming with me." Jessie said sternly.

"Road trip!" Niahm, Lauren, Sam, Zecira and Emily said at once. "Wait. We want to come too, meet the girl," Pernille said, pointing between her and Magda.

"Please no," Jessie groaned. "Wait, who doesn’t want to come," she asked.

No one raised their hand.

"Everyone get in a car and follow mine," the Canadian exhaled.

Turns out you were thirty full minutes away, but that didn’t discourage anyone within the four cars trailing behind Jessie’s honda.

There was music blasting in every vehicle and when rain started pouring, Jessie knew you would be in a bad mood.

"Someone grab my phone and text y/n telling her i’m almost there," Jessie said, fumbling with her device and tossing it to Emily in the backseat.

Jessie saw you the second she turned the curve in the road. You had your hood up, your arms crossed and you looked ready to kill. She knew that you were just pissed off and would never hurt a soul, but to the other girls, you seemed positively menacing.

Jessie jumped out of her car and ran towards you, hugging you tightly. "I’m so sorry, everyone wanted to come and-"

That’s when you saw the four other cars behind your girlfriends, but you didn’t care, you just kept hugging her and let the tears of frustration mix with the raindrops on your face. "It’s okay baby, they were bound to meet me one day," you said, brushing her now wet curls out of her face.

You had excepted everyone to stay in their cars due to the insane amount of rain, but before you knew it, the entire Chelsea Women’s roster was in front of you in the street. Magda and Pernille hugged you gently, giving each other a wide eyed look as they both felt your muscle mass. "Holy shit. You’re the boxer. I watch you on TV like all the time," Guro said, eyes wide.

"Well so do I- I watch you, I mean. Not myself. I watch all of you guys," you laughed.

"Your Guro’s celebrity crush is what she’s saying," Jessie teased. "Well not anymore!" The Norwegian laughed.

You spent dozens of minute talking in the rain, the cold downpour not seeming so bad when you had Jessie’s hand in yours.

Eventually, you got into the front seat and banished Sam to Magda and Pernilles car to make room for you.

You talked to the girls in the car and answered questions that the Canadian team had already asked. But you didn’t mind because those questions just meant you were lucky enough to have Jessie Fleming sitting beside you.

"She gets super focused when she drives," Emily said. "I know, I think it’s because she’s a bad driver," you teased. "I’m not! It’s just the whole reverse thing is confusing. The cars go the opposite way then they do in Canada," she said, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.

You kept on looking at her, your eyes full of love. Jessie knew you were staring, but she just let the blush creep onto her cheeks and gave you a quick smile, returning the lovey dovey eyes.

Zecira snapped a picture from the backseat. The forest was clear through the windshield, and so were the droplets of rain. You could see Jessie’s blushing grin but not who it was directed too. She posted it to her story and closed her phone, enjoying the sound of the rain… and the one of Emily and Niahms arguing.

[comfortless]

for your consideration, dearest syl: hybrid Flemish giant rabbit!König 🐇💭

flemish giant rabbit hybrid! König x fem, coyote hybrid! reader

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. hybrids: König is (mostly) human! he just has bunny ears and a cute lil tail & the same goes for reader!, kind of dark- mentions of what is essentially cannibalism, violence, scent & breeding kink, dubious consent to everything. please heed the warnings!

hello lil wisp! sorry!! this veered off a bit from what i usually write. there is still some fluff and sweetness here if you squint real hard…

Winter is setting in.

You could feel it on your bare skin, the chill that sweeps past the trees like breath from a ghoul’s rotting throat: something dead and wretched, so cold it steals your breath and halts the blood in your veins. If you weren’t careful, staying ahead of yourself and the rest of the things lurking in the woods, that ivory death would creep up, grab you by the neck and drown you out in the snow.

With the season comes the need to feed. You don’t have the luxury of hibernation settled into the primitive roots of your brain. While everyone else tucks themselves into dens carved out from mountains or beneath the earth, settled in with the roots of vast trees, you’re still left in smothering snow, heavy as the weight of the hunger.

You were born for this, the hunt: to feel your fingernails dig into the fallen leaves and forest debris, curl in carving your name into the earth, bite and rip and tear. “Little coyote,” the birds would call, seated up on tree limbs so, so far above that the sunlight would burn your eyes if you dare to look at them, “let us watch.”

You always put on the show, always stage the fight with grace. A lost, blubbering sheep one day; the wool ‘round her ears dried your throat, her mournful bleating only died down when your teeth found her throat. The canopy above echoed your pride, they were always grateful to have something to scavenge later, whether it be finger or eye or ear; your hunger wasn’t the only that raged out here in the forest.

This winter would have to be your last alone. You could feel the way a life of roaming without pack or anything to settle with had eaten away at not just your body, but that little illusion of a soul somewhere tucked a long way down inside of you.

It would be a simple one, too— drag some creature to your den to keep your flesh warmed and your stomach full, survive this loathsome season and flourish with the spring. When the leaves returned and the lakes thawed, you could settle into some foreign pack. Flash your neck, hide your teeth and hope they wouldn’t rip you apart as you have so many others.

You think to yourself that a deer would do, some meek little doe that would bat her eyelashes and plead that you only wait the winter out with her, curling against you to keep you warm as you keep her safe until finally…

You didn’t like to think about it too much.

As much as the chase and the thrill had a hold on you, thinking about the loss of life, the ghosts that cling to your shoulders and wail, waiting for your turn to join them was far different. You couldn’t fight your nature, but you knew well enough you could never entirely swallow down the guilt that came with it, either.

There was a pain in your legs as you walked, exhaustion that would go unsatisfied until your plan had been laid out proper. It begins to feel dismal when you realize you have not seen another creature in miles, no prints, either. The only thing that brings you any companionship are the first flakes of snow, sifting down from far above, the great bone white and gray of an falsified sea.

You crouch and wait, curling your arms around your midsection as you shiver. Time passes, but you can’t be certain of just how much… mere seconds, maybe hours. The sky gives nothing away.

Now, there’s a rabbit.

You catch the scent of it on the breeze, musky and floral. Poor thing has probably only basked beneath evergreens, lived in sprawling gardens its entire life, kissed the sun and held flaking petals in its hands. So very unlike you who only knows the shade, the blood, and the hunt.

Your charge is determined, the soles of your feet torn and bloodied from angry thorns springing up from the crushed leaves on the cold soil; teeth bared as you hurtle through the brush of dying plant life. Its so close, so terribly close you can already feel the way your teeth will rend its flesh, feel saliva pooling up on the back of your tongue.

Reaching the forest’s edge you spot… him.

The rabbit is huge, stood in the midst of the deadened field with his back turned to you. The tall, decaying grass just barely brushes against the backs of his knees, low hanging fog veiling his face. If not for the puffy, fawn-colored tail situated just past the expanse of the pale, toned back, you would have assumed you were faced with some sort of bear.

This is not your usual prey.

No matter the sharpness of your claws or the ferocity of your bite, you know well enough that someone like this could never be brought down by yourself alone. It’s too risky, even as your belly aches and you itch to be back in the warmth of your den, surrounded by the pelts of the four-legged imitations and the fire roaring in its pit…

Rabbits were simple, at least. You press your face against them and cuddle, whisper sweet things in their ears and they melt, begging to be swallowed whole without any idea that you’ve only ever meant it literally.

You approach him with cautious, gentle steps, allowing your body language to remain open and friendly as you present him with the view of you bare, claws turned inward into your own palms and teeth hidden away by soft, warm lips. Your ears lie back to rest against your head, tail tucked between your thighs: all a display of utter submission, and a trickery that has worked time and time again.

“It’s getting cold..,” you murmur, voice low and as pitiful as it can get. “Will you keep me warm?”

Your rabbit cocks his head at you, one flopped ear lifting in curiosity. And he doesn’t move, doesn’t startle… The poor, stupid thing remains in place as his stare drinks you in, almost adoringly as you pad right up to him. There’s no hope of your faces being level, you merely use that to your advantage, putting on a cute pout and placing your palms flat against his bare chest.

“Ja,” he murmurs, gently coaxing your chin up to look him properly in the eye. Cute prey was easy, but never… never in your life had you found your prey to be handsome. Even with those silly ears bouncing with each cloudy puff of breath he takes, his face is still something of a myth. The old humans would have made statues in his honor from his build alone, but that face would have given him the look of a warrior of myth— brutish, yet charming with the wide grin he gives you when you meet the sea holly color of his irises. “Come here.”

He lifts you into his arms with ease and your shivering immediately ceases, he’s warm like the summer sun.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispers into one of your triangular ears, causing it to involuntarily flick from the rush of his breath and press tighter to your skull.

Your intent was to take him to your own den, but as he begins to move it winds up being the opposite; there are mountains, an ice covered stream all laid out before you as he huffs more sweet words in a foreign tongue against your temple. It takes some time to understand that what you had intended to do and what he intends are entirely different. The mouth of a vast cave comes into view right as he dips his head, huffs several breaths against you, panting like a dog.

You’re only dropped when he kneels down to enter the den— his, ripe with the scent of sweat and musk and something floral. The rabbit has supplies stowed away for the winter, an array of preserved food, ample pelts likely stolen away from some other poor creature. He has weapons scattered about, stolen away from what remained of the old humans and their buildings, some sharper and more deadly than even the claws that crest the peeks of your hands. Your heart only plummets… you’re not in the presence of some stupid bunny, but a behemoth.

You begin your protests in a hiss, only to have your lips met with dried fruit, something sweet and red laid out on your tongue that tastes of sugar. He pulls you up and over his lap as he fits you both into the bed of animal skins and feeds you by gently guiding the food to your lips. The only think still spitting and crackling is a fire pit at the center as you allow yourself to somewhat settle.

The rabbit man only hums his contentment against your throat as your back presses to the expanse of chest behind you, and his hands trail away from your mouth, down further until they’re spreading your legs for him. Your pulse races as your eyes map the daggers across the floor down to the fur he’s seated you with him upon.

There’s only a hiss of breath that leaves your lips when his already leaking cock does press against the heat of your core. You don’t fuck prey— that would only spoil it, and you suppose that you are satisfied in knowing that he has no intention of harming you, only filling you with his seed, perhaps even his kits…

As his tip snags at your entrance, he purrs finding you already wet, bared open for him with his hand still steadying your thigh.

“Coyotes mate for life, hm?,” he rasps against the back of your neck, his own thigh trembling with the sheer excitement of the prospect of breeding you, tethering you to him for not only the rest of this winter.

You can hardly bite back the moan as he pushes through your folds again, nudging your bud as he spreads your arousal over the girth of him.

“Answer,” he commands in a sharp whisper, using his free hand to guide your chin up again. And you do, only in a weak nod.

He stuffs you full then, leaves you a panting heap as he repositions you onto your knees and covers you in himself. The furs smell of him, not the animals they’ve come from. Just the scent of lonely nights and a bitter, masculine stench that you whine and whimper into; all while he grunts his approval and praises about your tightness, your warmth, how you look somehow prettier now, capsized in his bed. Even has the audacity to whisper how long he’s watched you dart through the forest and waited for you to come to him as you sink your claws into hay and fur to steady yourself from the punishing pace he sets.

He only seems more fervent and adoring when he brings you to a rapturous bliss, keening whines and and tight praises pulled free from your throat as your cunt drools around him.

“You want kits?,” he purrs behind you, around you, everywhere as his voice lowers to an almost growl with each word spoken. In your trembling state, addled by sheer bliss as his cock soars into you to grind against your deepest places, you’ve barely the mind to refuse him anything. You merely mumble into the fur, something akin to a yes that has him grasping at your hips as though you’re his last tether to life itself.

When he’s finished, your stomach full of fruit and cunt full of him, he whispers into your ear about how the old humans believed in fate. His hands trail over your back, your waist, every curve only to rise and cup your cheek. His ears raise when he kisses you then, tender, as if trying to push his faith that you belong here right past your teeth.