#v writes

[biblio-smia]

shy shy shy

a little insecure tasm peter parker x reader, early stages of relationship

masterlist | requests are open!

nerdy peter lovers rise

They were just glasses.

On, off. On, off. A clear reflection of Peter in the bathroom mirror, a few circles of color where his head and body would be.

Peter examines himself with the lenses on, pulls out a piece of his sweater that had gotten caught inside his plaid pajama pants. His hands run up through the damp hair that falls flat against his forehead in an attempt to give it a little volume but it's no use without his usual styling products. Peter slaps his palms on his cheeks, shakes his head and sends micro-drops of water sailing. He bounces in place, attempting to shake out the jitters his body has had trouble containing all day.

Peter pushes his contact lens case aside, gives himself one last glance over. He contemplates for a few seconds, biting the inside of his cheek. Peter sighs as he pulls the lenses off again, cradling them in his hands and blowing air through his lips.

Metal frames, thick lenses.

Couldn't have that spider fixed his vision while he was at it?

Okay, Peter's vision wasn't that bad. Maybe he could survive without the frames Peter felt altered his appearance so drastically (or at least, reflected more accurately the type of person Peter was in his spare time). Peter with Contacts was cool and confident - scaled back from the confidence he had while he was in his suit, but not as pathetic as he was back in high school. Peter with Glasses? Yeah, that guy looked deserving of wedgies.

He reaches for his phone to check the time (and make sure he hasn't left you alone for too long), but can't make out what the white numbers say through his cracked screen.

Okay, maybe it is pretty bad.

Peter sighs, picks up the mess he'd made pre and post shower, hyping himself up one more time before opening the door and flipping the light switch off.

Peter pads down the hallway and peers his head around the corner into the small living room. He squints and can just barely make out the top of your head sitting on his couch.

Even though he can't see you very well, Peter's heart makes a funny feeling in his chest, even through the eye strain.

It's like you can feel Peter's eyes on you (which, you probably can - Peter is working overtime to try and make out the details of you) because you sit a little straighter and turn your head. Peter pushes his glasses on just in time to see you smile. And then grin.

"You wear glasses?"

Your voice is curious, not at all condescending, though Peter can hear the smile in your voice as you come up to meet him.

"For the aesthetics," Peter grins, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms in an attempt to make you believe the false sense of confidence he's putting up. It's stupid, really, but a tiny piece of Peter thinks someone as consistently perfect as you should be with someone who is equally on par. And, at the moment, Peter feels like he's letting you down.

You stand close to Peter, too close (his heart can't stop fluttering and his breath has caught in his throat). Peter fights the urge to pull you close to him. Too much, too soon, though he'd really like to kiss you right about now.

You try to contain your smile, a part of you still not quite believing that you've been so consistently guilty of making Peter Parker flustered.

Your fingers gently pull Peter's glasses off with a glint in your eye and Peter frowns at the sudden loss of sight - only because he doesn't want to miss looking at you from so close.

"For the aesthetics, huh?" You grin, turning the glasses to measure the thickness of Peter's lenses. Your suspicions about the strength of his prescription are confirmed by the way Peter's eyes are squeezed together as he looks at you.

"A hundred percent," Peter persists, opening his eyes normally and looking straight at the blurred lines of your face.

You take a step back and flash your phone at Peter, tiny words melted into a block of black. Peter instinctively squints and leans forward, trying to distinguish what the small screen said.

"You're like a grandma," you laugh, fully now.

"You should feel horrible for making fun of the elderly." Peter's arms drop, reaching for his glasses with an easy smile. But you move your hands away and Peter's hands catch on the crooks of your arms as you carefully place Peter's glasses back on his face, taking care to place them behind his ears as comfortably as you can. Your fingers graze against Peter's hair, still damp from his shower, gently moving a few stray pieces back into place.

"Well, you can't go to sleep like that," you murmur. "You'll get sick."

"So I guess we have time to kill?" Peter asks, hoping the two of you will sit down for a movie - or anything that'd keep him close to you, really.

"I guess we do," you grin, hands falling to Peter's shoulders, savoring the feeling of his hands on you, unable to help the craving you have for more.

"Pete?"

"Hmm?" Peter is partially entranced, melted like chocolate with the sweet sound of that little nickname coming out of your mouth. His eyes flicker and he's trying not to stare at your lips, bottom lip caught in his mouth in anticipation.

"Could I put my stuff in your room?" You ask sweetly, trying not to laugh at the way Peter falters, blinking quickly.

"Oh, yeah, sure," Peter nods frantically, hoping he's not as red as he feels.

You bite back your grin as Peter stays there, not moving until you do, sweet brown eyes slightly magnified by his glasses. Oh, but it'd be so cruel to deny him.

You press a quick kiss to the corner of Peter's mouth. It's a little shy and you turn away immediately to grab the overnight bag you'd packed. Two pairs of cheeks are red and grateful for the excuse of it, trying to shake off the little bit of nervousness the two of you still have around each other. It's a little strange, neither of you quite used to having someone around to love so freely. It's new, too, both of you still a little afraid to do something that would scare the other off, each of you knowing you'd never be the one to run off.

But this tiny fear that lives in both of your brains is what had Peter picking over his appearance earlier and is what makes him nervous now as he leads you down the hall to his room. He'd cleaned it thoroughly, considering hiding all his trinkets and trophies, ended up shoving things that had littered his shelves into his closet.

Peter takes a breath before opening his creaky door, smiling as he welcomes you in, hoping you somehow wouldn't notice - or maybe, wouldn't care to ask about - any of the posters or books or medals or figurines that made Peter, Peter. He was partially embarrassed and entirely nervous about sharing more of himself with you. After all, Peter was an expert at shutting people out and not too great at letting them in.

He doesn't know if he's relieved or even more anxious as you stare in awe, bag abandoned near his bed. It's clear you're taking in every detail of Peter's room, eyes not missing a single decoration. Peter feels as if he's being dissected, fidgeting as he waits for you to finish your analyzing. He's about to suggest that movie when you walk over to the desk he has shoved against the wall. Peter doesn't think there's anything special about books and pencils, but you're touching the tops of the things on his desk with care and a fascination he doesn't quite understand.

You quietly move onto old trophies and medals Peter has displayed, only the ones he was proudest of.

"Princeton Math Competition? Wow, Pete." You only turn your attention to him momentarily, returning your eyes to the shelf with a grin.

Peter's heart flutters when you sound... impressed? It was an accomplishment he was proud of, but not something he went around telling strangers.

"Oh, that... that- that's old," Peter laughs, coming up behind you, sure now there'd be no chance of getting you to watch that movie.

"Tell me about it."

"W...what?" Peter laughs, glancing at you curiously.

"I wanna hear about it," you say genuinely, taking a seat on the edge of Peter's bed. "Tell me about it."

Peter doesn't have to tell you he's shocked for you to realize it, a small smile tugging at your lips as you look up at him. Peter's not sure he has the courage to ask why before you beat him, sensing his hesitancy.

"I wanna know everything about you Peter. I wanna hear about your math competitions. I want you to tell me what books you're reading. I wanna know what matters most to you," you shrug, face a little warm from the confession. You don't have too much time to be embarrassed before Peter is next to you, hands digging into the bed at your sides. His face is inches away, his breath warm on your lips.

"Please let me kiss you," Peter whispers.

"Please do," you whisper back, letting Peter take your face in his hands and pull you into a kiss. The surface you've chosen is a little unstable as the both of you shift around, neither of you quite able to let the other go until you're forced to, breathless and grinning.

Peter's glasses have fogged up and he groans, pulling them off exasperatedly. "God, I hate these things."

"Really? But you look so good in them," you comment innocently, picking up the frames and attempting to look through them, muttering something about how, wow, Peter is blind.

Peter's not paying attention, though, heart hammering in his chest. He takes you by surprises when he kisses you this time, glasses still in your hands as they rest against his chest.

"You're trouble," Peter says when he finally pulls away. "You're doing awful things to my heart."

"Should I make fun of you, then?" You tease.

"Oh, I think that'd make it worse."

"I didn't know you were into that."

Peter shoves you as you laugh, though he can't help but join you.

"I didn't know you were into nerds," Peter quips, letting you slide his glasses back onto his face - the ones that suddenly don't seem that bad anymore.

"Only the really pretty ones," you murmur, and really, how could Peter not kiss you for that one?

Peter tries to take his glasses off as your kissing grows heated, knowing they'll be useless when they eventually fog up anyway. But your hand stops Peter, lips puffy from plenty of kisses and still eager for more.

"Nuh-uh," you say, pulling Peter's hand back down. "Keep them on."

[sinful-skeptic]

Religious conservatives love talking about trans people “mutilating their genitals” and then go off to circumcise their children without their consent 😇

[bluewatersfairy]

could’ve been - j.p.

loosely inspired by H.E.R. & Bryson Tillers’ ‘Could’ve been’

synopsis: two exes run into each other at a night club and spend some time catching up

warnings: mature content, MINORS DNI! unprotected sex (carry a condom at all times in cases of emergencies), semi public sex (i guess?)

word count: 5.2k (thank you for your patience) 

p.s. i started writing this during the off-season last year so the timeline is a bit fuzzy.

•••

All-star break had a habit of coming around right when everyone needed it.  Though Jordan was still the same goofy dude he’d always been, he felt like he was walking around with a chip on his shoulder.  He had been stuck in the mindset that he had something to prove all season, and it was starting to affect his mental.

His friend had suggested a night out to try and get his mind right and though it wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, he didn’t see it being a bad thing.  He didn’t think it would be a good idea to drink so he volunteered to be the sober driver.  

He was pressed up against the wall with a glass of lemon water when he caught a glimpse of someone who could’ve been you across the club.  For just a moment, he felt his entire body freeze, pins pressing into the bottoms of his feet and nails dragged down the back of his neck.  He stood up straight and rolled his shoulders back before leaning his head back again.  He couldn’t pull his eyes away now, he was stuck doing this again. 

Again because he’d done the exact same thing in London over the summer.  Someone had slipped past him in a rush and for a split second he thought it was you.  He’d stopped in his tracks and scanned the street.  It wasn’t you, of course, he knew you were in New York for a work conference and still not returning his texts.  Or even opening them to read.  It just happened to be someone who was roughly the same height as you and wore the same perfume or used the same hair products.  It couldn’t have been you. 

San Francisco was a different story.  You could very easily be in his adoptive city without him knowing.  He was sure he’d heard your company’s name in passing a few times in the past two days, and he was sure he’d heard one of your co-workers talking on the phone as they skipped the line outside.  She had a very strong accent, talked very fast and made a habit of yelling to be heard clearly on phone calls.  Somehow she always called you when the two of you were together, and Jordan liked getting in on them.  He could hear the whole conversation and it was too easy for him to do impressions and make you laugh whilst trying to be professional.  

Once while on a video conference she was leading, Jordan had made you burst out into laughter that you’d have to cover with a coughing fit, excusing yourself and muting your mic.  The two of you ended up on the floor laughing at the same thing over and over again until your sides hurt and tears were rolling down your face.  Whenever he thought of your time together, it was a scene like that that stuck out.  You were always laughing, joking, or out of breath in his presence, like you were filled with light.  

It’s part of the reason why he was so blindsided when you showed up at his hotel door to tell him things had to end between the two of you; that this wasn’t what you needed, or wanted anymore.  Jordan swore up and down that he could adjust what you needed to make it work, that he’d pull your weight while you couldn’t but all you could do was shake your head and say no.  

Jordan had to chug his lemon water to make the thoughts stop.  Some of it spilt down his face but he didn’t seem to care, just wiped it off on the back of his hand and continued to stare straight ahead. He kept his gaze slightly higher than the average height to make sure he didn’t catch a glimpse of anyone that could be you.  But then the perfume you wear flushed his senses and forced his eyes shut.  This wasn’t happening.  It was all just wishful thinking.  And it would remain wishful thinking.

“Can I stand here?” an index and middle finger touched just above his hip, the type of touch that he’d recognise anywhere.  Even with his eyes closed and his mind and heart fighting over where they should run to.

“It’s a free country,” Jordan answered as he bravely turned his head to meet your gaze for the first time in close to a year.  

It felt like something had hit his chest while he took you in, tingles spreading from his shoulder blades to his fingertips.  Your cheeks looked slightly fuller than the last time he’d seen you, and there were no longer heavy bags under your eyes, and your lips were smooth, unbitten and shiny.  You looked healthier, happier.  Your smile worked like a key in his chest; things were trying to turn again. 

“Hi Jordan,” you grinned with a glimmer of hope in your eyes, allowing yourself to take him in properly.  You were glad you’d decided to cross the room to see him closer.  You had no idea what you were starting, but you couldn’t stay away from him. 

You weren’t sure if he’d seen you on his way in, he was surrounded by his friends and they seemed deep in conversation.  You noticed him almost instantly.  Ever since you’d gotten off the plane you’d been searching for him in every room.  You couldn’t count on both hands how many times you’d hovered over his contact name over the past 3 days, but you’d somehow managed to stop yourself each time.  Seeing him in the flesh was a different story.  You could only be so strong. 

“Hi,” he breathed out as he dropped his head so you’d be able to hear each other.  

“I don’t think I can say your name, right now.”  He confessed, his heart pounding in his chest.  “I don’t know if you’re really here yet.”

You smiled as you wrapped your arm around his and slid your fingers down his forearm to tangle them in his own.  The action triggered a rush of endorphins and nothing could stop the memories that followed.  At various stages of your relationship, you'd used it as a silent communicator. 

Sometimes it meant that you were ready to go, or that there was someone you wanted to introduce him to, and occasionally that you were dragging him away because he was making too good of an impression on a coworker you did not want to have to invite around for drinks or worse, a meal.  Every now and again, it meant something less innocent, something the two of you rarely let happen outside the comforts of a bedroom.  You’d gotten into the habit of squeezing his hand gently to confirm the message towards the end of the relationship, so when you squeezed his hand in that club, it felt like he’d been hit in the chest.

“I promise,” you said into his ear, “I really am here.”  

He let out a deep breath and you watched as he glanced up for a few moments before relaxing into you.  He seemed to hesitate against your person, his fingers barely grazing the skin of your forearm.  When he did finally lay his hand on your arm, you could tell he was expecting to go straight through you.  

“Here,” you half laughed as you moved so you were standing in front of him, facing him, and wrapped your arms around his waist.  “You can hold me if you need to.”

Jordan half laughed in response but wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer.  You watched as his eyes scanned the room, his hands pressing into your lower back.  He tucked his head and you were properly connected for the first time in what felt like forever.  

“I was thinking about texting you tonight,” you confessed, “it would’ve been out of the blue but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”  Being able to look Jordan in the eye and hold him against you again felt a little too comfortable.  You shouldn’t have liked it as much as you did. 

“It’s been like that a lot for me too,” he licked his bottom lip, “there’s a lot I’ve been thinking about.”

“I’m proud of you,” you smiled softly, “I wasn’t sure if a text from me would ruin your celebrations, but I’ve never been more proud of all the work you’ve put in.”  your lips brushed against his ear lobe as he leant in closer with every word you said.  

“Nothing about you would’ve ruined anything,” he shook his head and tightened his grip on your waist, his thumb caressing your right hip, “if anything, it would’ve made things better.”  

He was grinning, cheesing, like you’d said something funny, like he did in some of those pictures you’d seen during the celebrations.  You scanned over his face again, taking time to look into his dopey eyes and cheeks to see if there was any sign of intoxication.  You couldn’t do this if he wasn’t sober, that wouldn’t be fair.

“Have you been drinking?” you asked with your hand instinctively reaching for his neck, “I’m not wasting my breath if you’re not all here with me.”

Another big grin and something of a laugh; he really had a habit of confusing you further when it came to clarifying things.  If it wasn’t for his hand’s grasp on your wrist, you would’ve given his face a little playful shove, and probably would’ve laughed too.  But instead you took a small step back, unwrapping your arm from his waist, and put some space between the two of you.  The desire to touch him remained, and you couldn’t bring yourself to lose his warmth, so your hand found itself resting on his chest.  The vibrations of his heart pounding against his ribcage spread throughout your body.  

“Jordan,” you raised your voice to make sure he could still hear you, “I’m being serious.”  

You couldn’t help but smile, couldn’t help but blush with the way he looked at you.  It was like nothing had changed in his eyes.  They were ever so hooded, sleepy looking, with that sparkle of joy you felt whenever you closed your eyes.  For a second there, you realised that this could’ve been reality if you hadn’t let him go, that this wouldn’t just be a passing moment, but a daily occurrence.  What’s worse is you knew you were looking at him with the same admiration you always had.  He still felt like your goofball guy, you still felt invincible in his arms, endlessly safe in his gaze.  

“I’m sober, I promise,” he laughed as he pulled you closer to him, your fingers entwining, “I’m Ms. Daisy tonight, I’m responsible.” 

“Responsible,” you teased with your head tilted and hands on his shoulders, “I’m not sure I’d use those exact words.”  

“See, I’m grown now baby,” he smirked, “I take care of people, keep them in line, you know, the whole nine yards.”  

Just like that, everything fell back into old patterns.  The two of you were smiling and laughing, joking around and teasing each other like the past few months never occurred.  In each other's embrace, quickly everything disappeared in the background and all you knew was each other.  

Tucked away together, no one could touch or bother you.  You were invisible to the rest of the world.  Except when Jordan cut you off mid-sentence to put a hand out to stop someone from bumping directly into you.  Well, a couple actually, they too seemed pretty caught up in their own world, just instead of catching up, they were making out.  

“Cmon bro,” Jordan clicked as he moved you and them out of the way, “get a stall or something.”  he looked annoyed and rolled his eyes before looking back down at you, barely even realising how he’d pulled you into his chest as if they were a true threat.  

“What?” he asked you in a softer tone, his hand cupping the back of your head, “you got that look on your face.”

“I dunno what you’re on about,” you shrugged your shoulders, “this is the way I always look.”

He rolled his eyes again and shook his head, “I know that look well, you’re thinking dangerous, dangerous thoughts, and I’m not about to comply.”

“I’m thinking nothing of the sort,” but you were, “maybe we should go somewhere more private to talk though.  I did not enjoy being involved in their very intimate moment.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, “sounds like an excuse, if you ask me.”

This time it was your turn to roll your eyes.  You pulled away, grabbing his hand in the process, and started searching for a bathroom.  

It wasn’t necessarily that you were trying to start something, but Jordan hit all your weak spots without meaning too.  He always looked good, but there was something about him that night that was more alluring than before.  It could’ve been that you hadn’t seen him in a while, or maybe that he was starting to fill out as he surpassed his scrawny teenage-like figure.  There was more to him, physically and mentally, and you wanted to get all in it.  

Which is exactly how the two of you ended up in a locked unisex bathroom at the back of the club.  You were sitting on the counter with Jordan between your legs.  His hands ran over your thighs, his fingers applying pressure every now and then.  There was little room between the two of you, heart-to-heart you carried on talking.  It was taking everything in you not to turn to the nasty corner of your mind that painted fantasies of Jordan part-time.  He smelt so good and he made you laugh.  Not to mention the flutter in your chest and the pulsing deep in you every time he looked at you.

It was all too easy, you pressed your lips together as you tilted your chin up to look at his face.  The lines you'd drawn were starting to blur and fade away.

“I’ve missed this,” you sighed as your fingers caressed his neck and shoulders.  

Jordan gave you a shy smile in response and cupped your chin in his right hand.  You kept looking up at him and slowly his hand travelled to your throat.  There was no risk, no added pressure in this gesture; just a reminder of what has passed and what still remained.  The two of you were putty, easily pulled and shaped into whatever the other wanted.  Stress free fun and a whole lot of love.  

“Me too,” he breathed out as your lips brushed against one another.  He was pulling you in with his entire being, but something was stopping him from making the connection.  Every part of your body burnt with anticipation, and you weren’t above begging for it.  

"Don't play games with me," you bit the inside of your lip, "you know what I want."  You could feel your cheeks and chest flush as each word passed through your lips.  

Somewhere between adoration, passion and pain, Jordan stared lasers into your soul.  His breathing deepened while he analysed what you had said and what you were doing.  Like you, he wanted to feel the fire that always came with your love.  The endless burn of lust and greed that dripped from every part of him the second he saw you undress.  He never wanted to lose you, never wanted to forget how good you looked on top of him.  Tonight was no different, except for the tightness in the hole of his chest.  He wanted to drink in the image of you in your little black dress and trace the curves of your body.  

Jordan never wanted to forget this moment.  He wanted you seared into his memory, let it be your silhouette he sees every time he closed his eyes.

The loss of contact surprised you as he took a few steps back.  Your thighs felt cold without him on you.  He crossed his arms and tilted his head at you, observing you, savouring you.  His hooded eyes dragged over every inch of your body and you followed him.  You leant back on your hands and spread your legs apart further.  Your hand fell to spot his eyes seemed to forget and you drew him in.  

Jordan felt like his mind was running 100 thoughts every millisecond that passed.  Memories, wants and needs blended together.  He needed to touch you with every part of him, wanted to drag his mouth over every inch of your skin.  Without a second of warning, echoes of the past rang through his ears, his head between your thighs as you swore to the Heavens.  There was nothing quite like you, nothing that he craved more on his tongue than your sweet pussy juices.  He could eat it for hours and never get bored.  There was always something new to try.  And he loved how he could dig his fingers in your thighs.  The small bruises from the pads of his fingers made him feel proud.  The red handprints and grips on your ass and thighs gave him a spike of confidence.  When he was inside you, he knew he was king.  He never questioned his actions or his success, you were never shy when it came to unholy acts.

"You wanna know something?" Jordan asked as he found your eyes again.

You nodded your head and watched closely as he dragged the tip of his tongue across the soft pink lip of his bottom lip.  

"This feels like the first time I'm seeing you all over again," he smiled shyly as he stepped closer to you again, his hands on your thighs.  "Like it feels like I've never touched you before.  I feel all giddy and nervous."

His tone didn't match his words.  He spoke low and with confidence.  He consistently had a demeanour that could only be described as smooth and it always sent a shiver down your spine when he got close.  He pulled you in mentally and you wanted to melt into him.

"You've always known how to touch me," you reassured him as you reached your hand out to hold his neck.  He tilted his head and smiled at you.

You could tell there were words that were better left unsaid at that moment.  His eyes, though playful, held that glimmer of doubt you'd left him with.  Neither of you could bear to address the elephant in the room.  Instead, you let the wants and needs of your body paint the fantasies the two of you shared.

You felt like Jordan was waiting on you.  So very gently you pressed a kiss to the right and then left side of his neck; just below his pulse points.  His eyes were closed when you guided his face so that you could place your lips to his forehead, then to the tip of his nose.  He hummed his approval of each touch, the sides of his mouth pulled up into a blissful smile.  

You pushed your lips together as you ran your thumb across his.  Jordan’s hands slipped up your body and wrapped around your torso, pulling you even closer to him.  

“Cmon baby,” he mumbled with you flushed against his chest, your lips with barely any space between them again, “you’re allowed to kiss me.  I’d prefer it, actually.”  his eyes flicked from your lips to both your eyes and it started to feel like it was all too much.

You reached out to him and let your lips encase his.  It was like an electric volt was sent down your spine and something switched in both of you.  In a matter of moments, your kisses became sloppy and rushed, the two of you trying to get closer.  You needed to feel Jordan on every inch of your skin and it seemed he felt the same.

The first time your lips separated, Jordan took his glasses off and immediately attached his lips to your neck.  His hand pulled your head back with gentle force and a gasping moan escaped your opened mouth.  The sleeves of your dress were pulled off your shoulders and Jordan’s mouth followed.  His teeth and lips dragged across your hot skin, hissing as he groped your breasts with both hands.  

You pushed your dress further down to expose your chest to him fully.  You were completely out of breath when he wrapped his lips around your left breast, his tongue catching your nipple and flicking it before he began to suck.  

You encouraged him with affirming words and louder moans.  Unconsciously, your hips rolled towards him.  The only thing your body knew was him and the only thing it needed was continuous contact with something warm.  Every inch of you ached for him, begged and pleaded for him.

“Jordan,” you gasped out as you tried to grab at his clothes, “I need you on me baby, take it off.”  

He nodded his head and took a step back to pull his shirt off over his head.  Your eyes fell on the tent he’d pitched in his pants and you couldn’t help but feel pleasure.  You pulled your dress off and slipped your panties off, no longer sitting on the bench.

You kissed Jordan and dragged your hands over his naked chest.  You pushed him against the spot you’d just been sitting and started to kiss down his neck.  You kissed a trail between his pecs and licked a line down his abdomen.  You smiled up at him, now on your knees as you worked to get his pants off.

“Fuck, you know me so well,” he moaned as you palmed him through his pants, “don’t play with me baby, I don’t have much patience tonight.”  he bit down hard on his bottom lip as you freed him.

You kissed the tip of his dick before spitting on it and using your hand to stroke him and spread your saliva.  He threw his head back, the veins of his neck strained and he let out a throaty groan.  With two hands, you stroked him and added more of your spit.  You’d forgotten how much fun it was to have this type of control over him.  You loved seeing him strain to contain himself and the rush it sent through him.  He would only let you do so much but you loved it when he let you decide how things were gonna play out.  

“I don’t have condoms,” you said with one hand reaching under his shaft to play with his balls, “do you care?”

“That depends,” he groaned out with his eyes squeezed shut, “you slept with anyone?”

“No,” you swallowed as your eyes met, “have you?”  his eyes were darker than before – you weren’t sure if it was because you were getting him off or because of what he’d just asked you.  Either way, you felt it down in your stomach.

“I haven’t,” he confirmed and you stood up quickly.  

Jordan grabbed you again, his strong arms lifting you so you were against the counter again.  He kissed you with a sense of urgency, his tongue dipping into your mouth.  Your moans mixed together and your legs wrapped around him, your hand reaching between the two of you.  

“God, I need you inside of me, Jordan,” you said, dripping with sex.  The two of you were focused on the space between you.  You pumped his length a few more times before running his tip through your slit.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he spoke with amazement, his voice breathy.

He grabbed your neck and turned your face so you were looking at him when you put him inside you.  His mind took a mental recording of the look and sound of relief that left your body as he filled you up.  

“My pretty baby,” he cooed with a devilish smirk, “don’t I feel good inside of you?”

You were speechless, nothing more than mewls and moans of joy were able to be expressed.  You felt so tight and you swore you could feel every inch of him.  It was hot, in every way.  You wanted to stay in the moment as long as you could, but there was little you could focus on other than how good it felt.

“You feel so good,” you spoke mindlessly, “fuck me please, give it to me.”

Jordan listened.  His hips pulled back and angled back into you perfectly for the first few strokes.  Each sound you let out egged him on so much so that he very quickly reached an erratic pace.  He was being fuelled by his own needs and unfulfilled desires and your constant confirmations of pleasure.

“Look at me baby,” Jordan found himself saying as he moved your leg so that you were now on your side, your head leaning partially on the mirror to keep yourself up as you fell into pure bliss.

You found his brown eyes as his hand came down hard on your ass cheek.  You gasped and reached for his hand, giggling a little.  He smiled and watched you move it to rest between your thighs.  He read your sign loud and clear and started to stimulate your clit.  You called out his name loudly and threw your head back.

“Oh just like that, yes.”  you felt like you were floating for all of 30 seconds before he moved his hand away.  You were about to protest, open your eyes and speak, but you were still getting fucked in the exact way you loved, and it was hard to concentrate.

“Look me in my eye,” Jordan said roughly, this time with his hand grabbing at your face so you’d actually make eye contact with him.  “Don’t that feel nice?”

“It feels so nice,” you responded loudly, his hand back on your clit before you could fully process it.  “You’re so fucking deep, I need you so badly.”

Jordan groaned in response, feeling your walls grip around him as if you never wanted him to leave.  He wanted to savour the beautiful feeling of you and never let it go.  He may have been caught up in the moment, but he hadn’t forgotten all his troubles.  The way he felt about you hadn’t changed, and seeing how well you fell back into old habits and how perfectly your bodies fit together, he was convinced this all meant something.  Something this good couldn’t get lost.  He wasn’t going to lose you again.

“Baby boy,” the nickname passed through your lips like silk, your hand reaching out to him, “stay here with me, don’t get lost in the other shit.”

Your words practically melted him into you, your bodies moving so his arms could wrap you in a hug.  He filled you to the hilt again and you squeezed your eyes shut, your mouth dropping open in a silent, all consuming moan.

“This better?” Jordan asked smiling, his forehead now resting against yours.  

“Mhm,” you hummed and caught his lips on yours as you pulled him even closer.  The new angle he thrusted into you was sending repeated shots of pleasure up your spine.  It was pure ecstasy and made your verbal reactions even louder.  “This is exactly what I needed.”

In Jordan’s strong grip, you were perfectly in rhythm with one another.  Though the composure of the sex was slipping, you were only growing more needy.  Your lips and teeth dragged over his soft skin and he did the same, his lips attaching to your neck at any chance he could get.  

“You feel so fucking good on me,” Jordan grunted out between thrusts.  

He was close.  The look on his face and the way his hips were starting to move without control or rhythm was enough for you to know.  You were too, ultimately.  When you told your friends you fit together, you never felt like it really sold just how good this could all be.  He could drag his cock over all the best spots inside your pussy, and give you enough friction on your clit to make you dance.  You wanted all of him, and nothing less.  

“Cmon baby,” you moaned, “keep going.  Please don’t stop.”

As if it was a trigger, Jordan’s rhythm was quickly lost and his hips started to move faster, chasing a high to fulfil your pleads.  His groans and thrusts pulled moans and curses out of you, your eyes squeezing shut as you opened up your chest.

“Nah baby,” he spoke roughly as he wrapped his hand around your throat, “you gotta look at me now.”  He grinned as you moaned again.  You opened your mouth to respond but he cut you off with his lips, his tongue licking into you.  

“Fuck,” he groaned as your walls clenched around him, “keep doing that and I’ma cum inside you.”

“God, I want you to,” you gasped as he somehow reached deeper inside of you.  “Cum inside me, please, please, please.”  

Your begging was enough to send him over the edge.  He filled you to the hilt and let out an incoherent string of curses and your name.  Your walls contracted with every twitch of his tip, spurting hot liquid into you.  When he felt he was finished, he pulled his hips back again and kissed you.  He moved with precise strokes that had you calling to a higher place.  He was dragging over your g-spot over and over again and it was exactly what you needed to send you over the edge.  

You threw your head back, your back arching the same way and said his name over and over again, praising him.   He scattered kisses all over your exposed neck and decolletage until he felt your pulsating core begin to subside.  

“I can’t tell you how much I missed seeing you like that,” Jordan cheesed with your hands cupping his face.  You looked him over, the same cheesy grin spreading across your cheeks.

His chest heaved in sync with yours and a layer of sweat covered his beautiful brown skin.  He looked ethereal and the way the light caught his sweat gave him a golden aura.  You couldn’t resist gently pressing kisses to his collarbone along to his shoulder where you rested your chin. 

“There really is no one like you.”

You gazed up at him and felt your heart skip a beat.  It wasn’t easy to accept, but you could see how you could have been wrong.  The best things in life were rarely easy.  And really, the more you thought about it, the more you knew that the difficult things that made you break things off with him were circumstantial and out of your control.  Maybe it wouldn’t be ideal, but you couldn’t see yourself living without him.  Plus, the last time you guys had sex couldn’t be in the uni-sex bathroom of a club you’d probably never return to.

“Hey Jordan,” you said softly after a peaceful silence of you both looking at each other, “I know there’s a lot to be said, but I was wondering,” you trailed off with a smile.

“Yeah?” Jordan encouraged, his smile growing wider.

“Do you wanna give us another go?”

[virescent-v]

Bars & Bets

A/N: A bar, a bet, and one night of absolute debauchery.

Emily Prentiss x reader (includes y/n). 18+ ONLY. Warnings: use of pet names, graphic detail of sex, some dom/sub themes, use of restraints.

Word Count: 5,798

You could feel the bass of the club music rushing through your chest, your heart galloping to speed up to match the pace. There was something so electrifying about being surrounded by people of all types, dancing, having a good time. You didn’t need to know their stories, hell, even their names, to have a good time. 

After the week you’ve had, all you want is a stiff drink (or four) and to let loose. If you found someone to spend a few songs with, or even the night with, that was fine by you. But it wasn’t what you were worried about looking for. 

Making your way to the overcrowded bar, you pulled on the hem of the little red dress you were wearing. It was shorter than you were used to wearing, but you couldn’t deny how sexy it made you feel. It showcased your strong thighs and made your legs look like they went on for days. Matched with the high heels you were wearing, your makeup a tad darker and smokier than normal, you knew you were going to turn heads tonight. Men and women. 

While you appreciated the hungry gaze of men, the way their eyes would travel over you, hopeful glints in their eyes that they would be the lucky one to take you home, you had no interest. It was the lustful gaze of women, the softness of their skin, the sounds you could pull from their throats, that made you a needy mess. 

Flagging down the bartender, you ordered a simple vodka cran. Easy enough to sip on while your eyes peered around the bar. While there were a few hopeful men looking at you, none of them caught your gaze enough to consider entertaining them for a free drink. As your eyes traveled back to the other end of the bar, you noticed you were being stared at by two people, together. 

One was tall, dark, and handsome. His eyes traveled over you, stopping to linger on your chest. You could tell he was the type to go after a woman, be incredibly charming, get her back to her place, and be gone before she woke up. Likely to never be heard from again. You could see other women in the bar mustering up the courage to even go talk to him, but he was staring at you. And while that was a nice thought, you were more interested in the stunning brunette beside him. 

She was breathtaking. Dark hair and even darker eyes. A killer smile. Slightly taller than you, but still fairly petite. She had this air about her that screamed ‘dominant.’ While her stance was confident, you could tell that she wasn’t really in her element in this place. She was more of a dive-bar, dimly lit, pool tables and beer kind of girl. She was wearing black pants that were incredibly tight and a white blouse, unbuttoned enough that you could see the edge of a lacy black bra peeking through. 

You could tell the two of them were friends. There wasn’t much exaggerated chemistry between them. While the man was staring at you, the woman kept glancing at you, but was talking to him. It seemed like she was egging him on, almost as if it was a dare. You couldn’t wait for him to make his way to you. Hopefully you could get a free drink out of him before you crushed his hopes of taking you home. 

Finishing your first drink, you turned back to the bar, flagging down the bartender. 

“How about I buy you your next drink, baby girl?” 

You smiled to yourself before schooling your features and turning around to face him. Bingo. 

You looked up at the man that you had seen staring at you from across the bar. A bright smile on his face. You could see how women wanted him. “That would be nice, thanks. I’m y/n,” you said, reaching out for his hand. 

“Derek. Nice to meet you, beautiful.” 

His hand was warm, but you felt nothing. You decided to have a little more fun with him before sending him on his way. “So, Derek, who’s the girl over there that was betting you to come over here?” 

His laugh was deep, barely audible over the loud music of the bar. He gestured back over to the woman in question. You caught her eyes, smiling as she blushed a bit, as if she knew you two were talking about her. “That’s Emily. She’s just a friend from work. She didn’t want to come out  alone tonight.” 

You turned back to Derek. “So, you came over here and left her alone? Not a very good wingman if you ask me,” you said, eyebrow raised. 

Derek raised his hands a little. “She can take care of herself.” 

You glanced back over to the beautiful brunette. “I’m sure she can,” you mumbled. 

You turned back to Derek as you felt his hand settle on your hip. “So, baby girl, how about a dance?” 

You almost felt bad for what you were about to do. Almost. 

“Derek, while a dance sounds lovely, I’m actually not interested.” You said, removing his hand from where it was starting to caress your side. 

His eyebrows scrunched up adorably. He looked utterly confused, as if he wasn’t used to women avoiding and denying his advances. 

You looked at him, giving him a little smile as you said, “While I enjoy your company, Derek, I am far more interested in that beautiful coworker of yours, if you catch my drift. Plus, there is a stunning blonde on the other side of the bar that has been staring daggers into my head since you walked over here. I think she might be the better option for you tonight.” 

Derek laughed loudly, his head thrown back a little. “Fair enough, y/n. It was nice meeting you. And tell Emily I owe her twenty bucks.” 

“I will,” you laughed. “Have a great night, Derek.” 

“You too, y/n. Take care of her, yeah? It’s been a rough week.” 

You raised your glass to him, sauntering over to where he’d left Emily. She was sitting at a table, watching you with curious eyes as you approached. She hadn’t moved from her spot and no one had joined her. For that, you were thankful. 

“Derek says he owes you twenty dollars,” you said with a smile. “I’m y/n.” 

Her face immediately lit up with a smile as she tossed her hair back from her face with a laugh. Now that laugh, it did something to you. But nothing like her voice did. “I love betting against him. I hardly ever lose,” she said. Her voice was deep enough to send chills down your spine.

You took a sip of your drink, your curiosity getting the best of you. “And what was this bet I was seemingly a part of?” 

Emily smirked at you, looking you up and down a little. You felt your cheeks heat up a little under the scrutiny. “I bet him that he couldn’t get you to dance with him. That you would turn him down in under five minutes. I was right.” 

You laughed, not surprised that she was able to read you so well. Something about her told you that she was great at reading people, just like you were. “That’s a good bet. If you had only bet that I would much prefer your company than his, you could’ve doubled your win,” you said, letting your eyes travel down her body, lingering on her chest, before sliding down to her pants, which you could now tell were leather. You licked your lips. You wanted to touch, slide your hands up them. 

When you looked back up, Emily was looking at you with a mix of awe and lust. Like she didn’t think you’d be so forward. It made you giddy with the anticipation of what could happen tonight, if she was willing. You were curious to see if she was as dominant as you thought she’d be, or if she’d surprise you and let you take control for the night. 

“Do you want to dance with me, y/n?” 

You smiled as you finished off your drink. “After you, Emily.” 

She grabbed your hand and led you out onto the dance floor, pulling you into the sea of people already out there pulsating and sweaty to the thick beats of the music. You started off facing her, your arms coming up to wrap around her shoulders, moving your hips to the music. You could feel how tense she was, as if she’d never really danced with another woman at a club before. Leaning in, you whispered in her ear, “Relax for me, Emily. Feel the music, feel me, and let go.” 

Emily’s hands shot up to your hips, feeling them sway left and right. Eventually, she started to move with you, her movements a little choppy at first. You grinned at her, pulling her closer to you, essentially forcing her hips to move with and against yours. You could feel the goosebumps erupt over her skin at your proximity. As the song progressed, you could feel Emily start to fully relax into the music, letting her body lead you both in a dance that was leaving you breathless. 

As the song transitioned from one with a heavy bass line to one with much sexier r-n-b vibe, Emily leaned in close to you and said, “turn around,” with such a note of authority that you didn’t imagine saying no. 

Once you turned around, Emily grabbed your hips and pulled you back into her. Your ass nestled tightly against her front, your back pressed against her chest. You could feel her hardened nipples through both layers of your clothing. Your chest started heaving. You knew she was dominant and you were excited to see more of her controlling side. 

You started moving your hips, whining and grinding against the solid body behind you. Your one hand gripped Emily’s thigh behind you, pulling her impossibly closer to you. You could feel her  breath on your neck, it sending shivers down your spine. You let out an inaudible gasp as Emily leaned closer and started kissing her way up your neck, stopping to whisper in your ear, loud enough to be heard over the music. “Such a tease, wearing such a short dress. Tell me, y/n, are you even wearing anything underneath it?” 

Your head leaned back against the strong shoulder behind you. Emily’s one hand remained on your hips, forcing you to keep up with the music, while the other started to roam. Thankfully, with how packed the club was, no one was really paying attention as her hand ghosted over your chest. You moaned out loud when her hand constricted around your throat. “Answer me, pretty girl.” 

From where your head was leaned back against her shoulder, you just turned it to the side to whisper in her ear. If she wanted to tease, you could, too. “No, Em. No panties. You would’ve ruined them by now anyways.” 

Emily quickly turned you around to face her, an almost evil glint in her eyes, her tongue wetting her lips. Her hand came back up to your face, running her thumb across your lips. Emily’s breath caught in her throat as you intensely connected your eyes, sucking her thumb into your mouth, running your tongue around it. Emily moved her hand back down to your throat, squeezing gently, while looking at you. “Naughty girl, going commando under this dress. What if someone sees what is so clearly mine?” 

You looked at Emily faux-innocently, batting your eyelashes. “Well, maybe, you should take me home and prove it is yours, then.” 

Emily smirked at you, before turning you back around in her arms. She forced your stance a little wider, thrusting one of her legs between yours. You could feel the heat of her leg pressed up against your uncovered pussy, knowing you were leaving a trail of juices on the leather of her thigh. It made you whimper as you started to grind against her. 

“Or, y/n, how about I make you so wet, so needy, right here in the middle of this dance floor, that you’re begging for me to take you here in front of all of these people?” 

You grinded down harder against her thigh, your movements sped up to match the pace of the beat of the music and the thumping of your pulse. If that’s what Emily was intending to do, you knew it wasn’t going to be long before you brought truth to what she said. 

Emily’s hands started trailing lightly across your body, the pressure never enough to satisfy, only to leave you wanting. When her hands gripped your hips and forced you down harder on her thigh, you couldn’t help the salacious moan that left your mouth. You could feel the dark chuckle Emily let out even if you couldn’t hear it. “Such a greedy little slut. Rubbing yourself against me in a room full of people. I bet you want them all to watch you come undone against me.” 

Oh, god. You didn’t have an exhibitionist bone in your body, but the thought of other people watching you as you came apart at Emily’s hands was enough to make your arousal pound throughout your body. 

This time, you did hear Emily laugh. “I knew it. Such a whore. Too bad no one will watch you come except for me, understood?” Emily growled at you. 

“Yes, ma’am, I understand,” you panted, trying to turn around to catch her lips. 

Except Emily had such a grip on your hips it was impossible to turn around. All you wanted right now was to kiss her, have her smother your moans with her lips.

“Em, kiss me, please,” you said, still trying to catch her in a kiss. 

She laughed against your neck, her lips slowly grazing over the sensitive skin there. “That’s what I’m doing, pretty girl.” 

You let out a frustrated groan, “that’s not what I mean and you know it.” 

“I know, baby. But be a good girl for me and keep dancing against me,” Emily said, as she pulled you tighter against her. 

Every sense of yours seemed to be heightened. You could feel the music in your chest, you could smell Emily’s perfume, feel her hands gripping tightly to you, feel the whisper of her breath on the skin of your neck. All of it was beginning to be almost too much. You could feel yourself getting wetter as each moment passed. All you wanted was for Emily to kiss you, take you home, and then take you. 

You were hardly able to get any friction from grinding against Emily’s leg, her pants being coated in your essence. You tried to grind down harder, faster, anything to get you some relief, but nothing was working. 

As if she could feel your frustration rising, Emily finally turned you around towards her, breaking the contact between you and her leg. “You look so pretty when you’re desperate, y/n,” she said, winding a hand into the hair at the base of your neck, pulling your faces closer together. Her breath was hot against yours, both of you worked up, your panting almost matching the thumping of your racing pulse. 

“Emily, please-” you started. 

Before you could finish begging, Emily crashed your lips together. The kiss was sloppy, teeth and tongues crashing against each other. You only pulled away once you needed some air. “Take me home, now, Emily. Please.” You didn’t care about pleading anymore. You just needed her to touch you. Make you come. However she wanted to, it didn’t matter, as long as you got to. 

Wordlessly, Emily grabbed your hand, dragging you from the bar. Before you made it out of the club, you caught a teasing glint from Derek. He raised his glass to you in a silent cheers as Emily pulled you through the door. 

—-- 

The ride back to Emily’s apartment was littered with tantalizing touches. She kept it pretty tame, all things considered, as not to alert the driver. But, with how worked up you’d been at the club, every little touch drove you closer and closer to insanity. 

Emily had snuggled up close to your side, her breath hot and provoking at your ear. She kept whispering indecencies as her hand started teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You subtly thrusted your hips forward, trying to get her fingers closer to your core. 

“Tsk, tsk. Trying to get my fingers to touch your needy cunt in this cab? Such a bad girl, y/n,” Emily whispered. 

You had to catch the moan in your throat otherwise the driver would’ve definitely known what was happening in his backseat. You looked at Emily, a knowing, sinful grin on her face. It made you needier. “Please, Emily,” you whispered back, thrusting your hips more aggressively towards her fingers. She was right there. 

Emily growled, her grip on your thigh almost bruising. “No. Now stop before I have to remind you who’s in control tonight.” 

While you knew it would probably end in punishment, you couldn’t take the build up of pressure anymore. Your own hand started to travel down, teasing the skin on the opposite thigh that Emily had a grip on. The combination of slight pain and enticement of your feather light touch  was enough to force your hips to move again of their own volition. Your hand had just creeped under the edge of your dress before Emily grabbed your wrist in a forceful grasp, making you wince in pain. 

“I said no, y/n. You’ll pay for that when we get back to my place.” The look in Emily’s eye was dangerous, but you couldn’t help but be even more turned on. You were sure your juices were staining your dress at this point. 

When the cab pulled up to Emily’s, she almost pushed you out of the car. Grabbing your hand, she pulled you up the stairs and into her apartment, slamming the door behind her. Emily shoved you into the wall beside the entrance way, gripping your throat in her hands. While it was a little rough, it wasn’t anything you didn’t want, didn’t need. 

“Such a desperate, needy whore you were being during the cab ride. For that, you’ve just earned yourself a spanking, little one. Come with me,” she said, pulling you with her toward her bedroom. 

She stood at the end of her king size bed and turned to face you. “On your knees, princess.” 

You walked up to her before slowly lowering yourself to the floor, head angled down, palms up on your thighs. You decided not to try your luck tonight. You’d be Emily’s good girl by the end of the night, no matter what it took. 

Emily gripped your chin, tilting your face up to look at her. “You look so pretty on your knees for me, princess. You gonna be my good girl tonight?” She asked, thumb rubbing across your cheek. 

Your face heated up with a little blush from the way that she was looking at you. Like you were her favorite possession. You hadn’t known her long, but you were lucky your eyes met in that club tonight. You nodded before softly saying, “yes, ma’am. I want to be good for you.” 

Emily smiled so genuinely that you couldn’t help but smile back at her. It didn’t last long, however, once she gripped your hair in her fist tightly. She brought your face close to her leg, the one you had been grinding on at the club. “Look at my pants, y/n. Look how messy you’ve made them,” she tsked, sounding utterly disappointed. 

Looking up at her from your position on the floor, you couldn’t help but whimper at the look on her face. Emily was in control. She owned you. “What can I do to make it up to you, ma’am?” 

She smirked at you, for just a second, before bringing your face closer to her thigh. “Lick. Them. Clean.” 

The moan you let out was filthy. You quickly stuck out your tongue, not wanting to displease her. At the first contact, you could taste yourself. You knew you were wet at the bar, but you hadn’t realized it was so intense. Your tongue swirled around her thigh, licking up every leftover trace of you. The hand that had lifted your chin was now tangled in your hair, guiding your face around her thigh. She only pulled your head back once her leather pants were glossy with your saliva. “Stand up, pretty girl.” 

Emily helped pull you up from the floor, which you gave her a grateful smile for, since the hardwood left your knees a little aching. “Turn around.” 

Once you had, you felt Emily’s hands brush your hair to one side. Her lips ghosted over the back of your neck as she started to slowly pull down the zipper of your dress. With each click of the metal zip, her lips would brush your skin down your back. It was making you needy in a different kind of way. You could feel the affection of her kisses on your overheated skin. It made you wonder if Emily was a romantic as much as she was a domme. 

Once the zipper was completely undone, Emily pushed each side off your shoulders, letting the dress hit the floor. She turned you back around, taking in your completely nude form. The dress was too tight and too revealing to wear any sort of undergarments. 

Emily’s eyes traversed slowly across all of your exposed skin, taking longer to linger at your ample chest, the swell of your stomach, and the light curls between your legs. It was such a heavy gaze, you could feel the hunger in it, a fire spreading across your nerve endings. You weren’t sure what Emily was planning to do to you, but as long as you got to come, you really didn’t care. 

Making eye contact with you, Emily stripped off her own pants and shirt. She sat on the edge of the bed, gesturing at her lap. “Bend over, y/n. It’s time I make good on that spanking.” 

You took in a shuddering breath as you felt yourself grow wetter in anticipation. Laying yourself over her lap, you flicked your hair to one side, looking back over your shoulder at her. Emily’s heavy gaze was zoned into your tight ass. Her hands started to grip and pull at your cheeks, getting used to the feel of you in her hands. She glanced quickly at you, “Count them. If you stop or miscount, we start over.” 

You weren’t expecting the first smack against your ass to be so hard. You felt the ripple of your skin and knew that if she kept that pressure, you were going to have trouble sitting tomorrow. Lost in your own thoughts, you felt the next smack come down on your other cheek. “Looks like you just want more, don’t you, y/n?” Emily asked, smacking you hard on the same cheek she’d just hit.

“Shit,” you hissed. “One!” 

You could hear the devilish grin on Emily’s mouth. “Good job, princess.” 

You almost rolled your eyes at how arrogant she sounded. Before you could fire back, a swift slap against the bottom of your left cheek, close to your inner thigh reverberated throughout the room. “Two,” you groaned. 

The pain was intense, almost pushing the edge of being too much. You wiggled your hips a little on Emily’s lap, trying to rid yourself of some of the sting. Before you could really get too much relief, you felt a finger at your core. 

“Jesus, you’re so wet, baby.” Emily said, starting to play with your dripping juices. She rubbed her finger up and down, gathering your essence from your opening, spreading it around your lower lips, stopping only briefly to rub at your clit. The pressure was more playful than anything, not enough to get you off, but it was still welcomed. “Just a few more, sweetheart. Then I’ll make you come so hard you forget your own name,” Emily said. She pulled her hand away from your cunt, using that one to strike you again. The slickness of her finger adding to the sting against you. 

“Three,” you panted. You really hoped she was done at five. 

The next slap came down hard on the spot she’d already hit, the pain slicing through you quickly. You could only imagine how red your ass looked. “Four!” Your voice starting to turn hoarse from screaming. 

The last slap caught you the most off guard. Instead of striking you against the skin of your ass, Emily’s hand had mostly made contact with your sopping pussy lips. That one made you mostly moan out of arousal rather than pain. “Five, ma’am. Thank you.”

Emily used both hands to rub against your ass, massaging the reddened skin. “Good girl, taking those spanks so well.” She gripped both of your cheeks in her hands. “Your ass looks so good, pretty and red with my hand prints,” she whispered, admiring her own handy work. 

Emily helped pull you up, settling you down against her sheets, you wincing a little at how tender your backside was. Emily caught it. “You okay, y/n?” She looked a little concerned, which you didn’t want. 

“I’m good, Em,” you cleared your hoarse throat. “More than okay. I’ll let you know if it’s too much.” 

Emily smiled at you, before disappearing off the bed and into her closet. She returned with a shoe box of what you could only assume was fun things. 

Emily first pulled out a satin sleep mask, holding it up for your perusal. At your slight nod, she placed it over your eyes, rendering you unable to see. “If, at any point, you do not like what I am doing, I want you to safeword out. What do you want to use for your safeword?” 

You took a deep breath, licking your lips. “I use the stoplight method to check in, but ‘vanilla’ is my hard stop, ma’am.” 

“Good. If, at any point, you want to stop, you say vanilla or red or tap me anywhere on my body three times and I will stop. There will be no punishments for stopping or using your safeword. Understand?” Emily asked. 

You appreciated the check in. It wasn’t needed; you knew you could just say ‘stop’ and she would. Even with only knowing Emily for a few hours, you trusted her. “I understand. If I want to stop, I say vanilla, red, or tap you three times.” 

“Good girl.” 

Emily lifted your hands above your head, fastening them to the headboard with something soft, likely padded cuffs from what you could tell. 

Once she made sure they were secure, you could hear the snapping of a closure or bottle of some sort. Shortly after, you could smell something minty. Before you could question her, you felt Emily’s hands on your body, starting at your shoulders and quickly moving downwards to your breasts. “Peppermint oil, princess. Relax.” 

You could feel your body loosen with each pass of her hands over you. With your eyesight being taken from you, it felt like all of your senses were heightened. The smell of the oil was strong, but not overpowering. Mint was one of your favorite smells. It also forced your mind into overdrive, trying to figure out where Emily’s hands would end up next, what they would be doing to you also being a mystery. 

As Emily’s hands slid over your breasts, you released a lung full of air. You’d never been so turned on from such a simple massage before. “Please, Em,” you said, wiggling your hips a little, trying to get some traction between your thighs. 

“Patience, baby. I’ll get you there, don’t worry,” she said. 

You almost groaned in frustration. You knew Emily would be good on her word, but you wanted to come now. 

When you felt her hands leave your body, you could hear her shuffling around in the box she’d brought out with her. 

“You can come when you want to, princess. But once you start, you’re not stopping until I say so,” Emily said, immediately putting the wand against your clit and turning it on. 

You had to stop yourself from screaming at the vibration on your oversensitive clit. She hadn’t even really touched you yet, but Emily knew how to play your body so well. She made sure to never keep the pressure in one spot for too long, finding entertainment in watching the way your hips gyrated to get the vibrator right where you wanted it. 

You could feel your wetness seeping out of you, pooling onto the sheets below you. You hadn’t been this keyed up in so long. “Please, ma’am, please touch my clit,” you begged, trying to press down harder on the vibrator. 

“Hm, you’re so pretty when you’re desperate for me, baby.” 

Your next words got choked on a grunt as Emily finally put the vibrator against you, turning the speed setting up a notch. Your head rolled back against the pillows as you thrusted your hips down, increasing the pressure. You knew with just one more second, you were going to come. 

But you weren’t so lucky. Right before your body had a chance to contract and let go, Emily removed the vibrator. 

The whimper that left your throat was embarrassing to even your own ears. You have never been so ready, so desperate, to come for someone before. You could feel the tears of frustration welling in your eyes. 

“Aw, princess, don’t pout. Edging always makes the orgasms that much sweeter…that much stronger,” Emily said, rubbing the outside of your thigh, hoping to ease the discomfort of your missed finish. Her hands traveled lightly over your skin, keeping you worked up, but settling the fire within you just a little. 

As Emily’s hands made contact with your breasts, squeezing, pinching, and rolling your nipples between her fingers, her mouth made contact with yours. The kiss was slow, gentle almost, but sinful enough to make you see stars. Emily kissed you intensely, her tongue making passes against yours; she tasted like her drink from the bar and something else, something her, that drove you wild. 

After kissing you breathless, Emily trailed one of her hands down, lightly circling your clit causing your hips to jump. She did not linger at your swollen bud long before moving down to your pussy, thrusting two fingers inside quickly. 

“Fuck, Emily,” you moaned. 

“I love hearing my name from that mouth of yours, pretty girl. Make sure to say it when you come for me.” 

The pace she set was just what you needed; fast, hard, and deep. She was scissoring her fingers back and forth making you stretch to fit her. Within a few strokes, she found that special spot inside of you that had your back arching off of the bed and pulling at your restraints. 

“Hm,” Emily chuckled. “You’re going to come so hard for me, princess.” 

Your mouth opened as if to moan, but your voice wasn’t working. You could only focus on the feel of Emily inside, thrusting, twisting, and stretching you open. With each brush of her fingers against your g-spot, you could feel the pressure tightening, threatening to snap. “Ugh, Em,” you panted, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Like you couldn’t get enough air. 

“I know. You’re almost there. It’s going to be so good, baby.” 

With the click of the vibrator, the incredible fucking Emily was doing, and the fact that you just needed to come so badly, you almost lost it right then. 

“Aw, honey. You’re so close, aren’t you? You gonna come for me?” Emily sweetly said, each word emphasized by a hard thrust into you. 

You couldn’t speak, opting to just aggressively nod in confirmation. You were almost there. 

“When you’re done coming, I’m going to sit on that pretty face of yours. I’m going to ride you until you make me come. Now come, y/n,” Emily growled, pressing the vibrator harder against your clit, rubbing at that sweet spot inside of you faster. 

“Emily!” 

Your back bowed so hard it felt like you were bent in half. Your legs clamped together, holding Emily in place. But that didn’t stop her from continuing to rub your g-spot inside, flicking her fingers back and forth quickly. 

“Let go, all the way. Give it all to me.” 

The pressure was all encompassing. Overwhelming. With a quick bite to the swell of your breast, you came. Hard. Fluids gushing out of you, soaking Emily’s hand, her lap, and the sheets below you. “Fuck! Emily!” 

Emily brought you down from your orgasm gently, rubbing your body to bring you down. But you were so worked up you couldn’t control the shaking. Quickly undoing your restraints and blindfold, Emily gathered you up in her arms, holding you close to her, whispering sweet words of encouragement in your ears. “Good girl, honey. You came so well for me,” she said. 

You snuggled in closer to her chest, trying to catch your breath. You don’t think you’ve ever been fucked so well before. Never had someone read your body the way Emily did. 

“Was that the first time you’ve ever-” Emily started. 

“Yes. My god, Em. I didn’t even think that was possible,” you chuckled, still breathing hard. 

You could feel Emily smile against the top of your head. “Well, it was definitely possible. I’m glad I got to be your first.” 

Hopefully you’ll be my second…and third…and last.

You paused, tensed a little. 

Whoa, where did that thought come from? 

“Y/n? You okay?” 

Of course Emily could feel your muscles contract. “Yeah, Em. Just realized I still owe you that orgasm, but I don’t think I can move,” you tried to hide behind another little giggle. 

“Oh, don’t worry, princess. You can sleep. And repay me in the morning.” 

You tilted your head up, searching for Emily’s eyes. When you caught them, you almost gasped at how much affection you saw in them. You wondered if she was having the same thoughts that you were. The genuine smile on her face made you smile back. 

“I look forward to it, ma’am,” you smirked. 

Cuddling back into her chest, you sighed with contentment. 

Thank god for bars and bets.

[v-thinks-on]

Phoenix is nudged into awareness by the feeling of someone stirring underneath him. He’s sprawled across the wine red sheets, with Miles Edgeworth pinned underneath his heavy, sleep-laden limbs, awake and struggling to extricate himself.

Phoenix frantically retreats to his side of the bed. This wasn’t exactly what he imagined for their first morning together - he’s not even sure that it really counts.

Miles recomposes himself after being nearly crushed, but to Phoenix’s surprise, he stays lying in the center of the bed - it is his bed, after all - half-curled toward Phoenix. He won’t meet Phoenix’s eyes, but he hasn’t turned away either. Phoenix is hopeful that Miles’s expression is awkward, not annoyed, but it’s hard to tell.

“Miles…?” Phoenix says cautiously.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Miles doesn’t sound too pleased about it.

“I didn’t give you much of a choice.”

“I-I wasn’t trying to get up… just get comfortable,” Miles mutters so quietly Phoenix isn’t sure he hears it right.

Phoenix can’t tell if the pink tinge on Miles’s cheeks is a reflection from the red sheets or a blush.

“Oh,” Phoenix says.

Before he has a chance to try to figure out where to go from here - what wouldn’t be too much - Miles abruptly brushes his hand across Phoenix’s cheek, only to pull it away just as quickly.

“Ngh. How did you do it so smoothly?” Miles demands.

Phoenix bites back a laugh. “I, uh…”

Instead of trying to come up with an answer, he gently reaches out to cup Miles’s cheek. His skin is warm and soft, and Phoenix is pretty sure that is a blush. Miles’s expression immediately softens as he leans into the touch, probably without even knowing he’s doing it, but there’s still a crease in his brow. Phoenix trails his fingers across Miles’s forehead to brush aside some stray hairs, in soft disarray from the night’s sleep.

“That’s how,” Phoenix concludes with what he admits is probably a smirk, his hand lingering at Miles’s cheek.

With a determined expression, Miles reaches out toward Phoenix’s face and brushes aside the stay hairs on Phoenix’s forehead, and then he runs his fingers fleetingly down Phoenix’s cheek.

On an impulse, Phoenix catches Miles’s hand before he can pull away entirely. Maybe Phoenix shouldn’t be surprised that Miles’s muscles, from his fingers to his palm, are all taut with tension that probably never goes away, though his obvious nerves probably don’t help. Still, Miles lets Phoenix intertwine their fingers, like a subtle embrace. He wonders if it’s Miles’s heart he can feel racing, or just his own.

It takes longer than Phoenix expects before Miles turns away again, flustered. “W-we should probably-”

Phoenix can’t help but be a little disappointed, but he disentangles their hands without complaint. “How about some breakfast?”

“It’s almost noon.”

“What do you mean, almost noon?” Phoenix can only wonder how long Miles has been awake. “Lunch then?”

“I can make us something.”

That’s not exactly what Phoenix had in mind, but he can’t exactly make Miles breakfast - or lunch - in bed, when he’s stuck hobbling around on crutches.

They’re still both a little reluctant to get out of bed, but eventually they can’t excuse delaying any longer, and Miles helps Phoenix up. Phoenix wonders if it’s just his imagination that Miles is a little handsier than usual and his touch lingers a little longer. By the time they’re both dressed and ready, it’s after noon.

Phoenix hobbles after Miles into the kitchen and sits down at the bar. “When my foot’s better, I promise I’ll do all the cooking and cleaning for a month.”

Miles pauses mid-step, and Phoenix belatedly realizes what he just suggested.

“You don’t have to,” Miles says, without looking at him. “I’ll have to help out anyway so you don’t mess up my kitchen.”

“Hold it!” Phoenix says on principle, but he’s not sure it’s actually a no.

“Objection overruled,” Miles says as he crosses the kitchen.

“You’re not the judge!”

“It’s my kitchen.” Miles smirks like he knows he’s won the case.

Phoenix has some impulse to kiss away Miles’s smirk, but he’s all the way on the other side of the room, and things are going so well, Phoenix is hesitant to push his luck.

[rain-ghoul-appreciator]

in honor of trans visibility day, i present to you some trans ghouls shenanigans.

they/them transmasc rain, he/him transmasc swiss, she/her transfem mountain, and she/her transfem aurora

under the cut or on AO3

"rory, get me that lipstick, will you?" 

aurora looks up from her nails, seeing rain holding a hand out towards the lipstick. she sighed and looked towards swiss.

"swissy, my nails are still wet, can you get it, pretty please?" she asked, giving him the biggest, saddest, wettest puppy eyes ever. swiss groaned.

"but im not done with mounty's hair," swiss whined, tying off another little braid. mountain looked over her shoulder, shooting swiss a playful glare.

"who are you to deny rain of their wants," she teased, reaching for the lipstick. she tossed it rain's way, a wide smile on her lips. 

"at least someone in this room appreciates me," they muttered, popping the cap of the lipstick off. 

"excuse me? who just bought you those new shoes?" swiss retorted, "and i got you taco bell last night! oh, and don't forget that lotion thing you wanted!" rain laughed, rolling their eyes.

"whatever," they mumbled, turning to face the mirror. aurora watched the two bicker, her brows furrowed.

"so you'll get rainy taco bell but you wont get me chicken nuggets?"

"oh, come on, it was one time," swiss argued, his lips forming a pout. 

"one time to many," aurora countered, checking to see if her nails were dry yet. 

"if you two keep arguing about some damn chicken nuggets i will lace my next batch of brownies with laxatives and hand feed them to you," mountain butted in, a playful smirk on her face. both aurora and swiss instantly went quiet. 

"will you at least make a normal batch for me?" rain asked, looking over at mountain with a pleading look. 

"of course i will," mountain replied, "anything for my little prince." a shit eating grin spread across rain's face as they look at swiss and aurora's betrayed expressions. 

"traitor," aurora mumbled, looking into her little handheld mirror. "also, i meed help with my hair."

"what did i ever do to you?" rain muttered, rolling their eyes and moving to sit behind aurora, their nimble fingers already tangled into her hair before she could even respond. 

"nothing," aurora sighed, lightly powdering blush on her face. rain giggled quietly, grabbing the curling iron from the vanity. 

"im gonna need that soon," swiss said after a while, gesturing to the curling iron. 

"okay, almost... done," rain replied, a smile on their face as they handed the iron off to swiss. aurora smiled at her reflection, messing with her freshly curled hair. 

"thanks rainy-" her and swiss said in unison before turning and glaring at each other. 

"jinx! fuck! jinx again!" they, again, said in unison. mountain giggled, poking swiss to make him stop. 

"im serious about the laxatives," mountain warned, leaning her head back against swiss's chest. 

"right, sorry, mi amor," swiss mumbled, leaning down and pressing a kiss to mountain's forehead. she smiled, reaching back to tug swiss down for a proper kiss. rain rolled their eyes playfully.

"i thought we were gonna celebrate swiss's dick, not your marriage." rain looked over at the two, trying their best to hold back a giggle. 

"aww, are you jealous that i have a dick and a hot wife?" swiss teased, getting up and wrapping his arms around rain.

"no," rain lied, busying himself with putting away the unused makeup stuff.

"i'd give you my dick if i could," aurora teased, leaning her head back against rain's stomach. rain giggled and leaned back against swiss. 

"mountain, help! im being bullied," rain whined, reaching out for mountain. mountain laughed and shook her head before standing up. 

"what do you want me to do about it?" mountain teased, leaning against swiss's back. rain pouted, trying their best to look back at mountain. 

"anything, just get me out of this dick sandwich," rain begged. both swiss and aurora broke out into a fit of laughter.

"a dick- a dick sandwich?" aurora wheezed, leaning back further against rain. 

"what the hell is a dick sandwich," swiss questioned, his voice broken up by giggles. 

"i don't know," rain whined, giggling quietly. "mountain- ahh!" they yelped as aurora leaned to far back in the chair, sending them all toppling backwards. they were all silent for a second before bursting out into laughter. 

upon hearing the loud thump, aether poked his head into the room, surprised (and a little unsettled) to see all 4 ghouls tangled together on the ground, staring at him like a bunch of deer in headlights. he blinked once before slowly backing away, shutting the door quietly.

"why am i never invited to these things," he murmured, flopping back down on the couch next to a sleeping cumulus. 

"cause you're gay!" aurora jokingly shouted from the room before being consumed by the giggles again. 

legend says aether never recovered after that. 

[signoraviolettavalery]

Another snippet from another bokris fic

[Jere is in Thailand vacationing and posting all those stupid videos, which Kris has watched and laughed at in Bojan's presence, also Kris thinks Bojere are dating]

"Yeah, his poor girlfriend, having to film all those," Bojan snorts, and Kris' brain short-circuits.

"He has a girlfriend?"

Bojan looks up at him, amused. "Yeah?"

And Kris knows it probably isn't his business, if Bojan hasn't told him it's for a reason, but his brain is too busy short-circuiting, and all that comes out of his mouth is "are you guys like, polyamorous?"

This time, when Bojan looks up at him, it's clear he needs a second to figure out what Kris is talking about, but then his face clears with understanding.

"Oh my god, Kris, he and I aren't together."

"You're not?"

Bojan is looking at him weird now. "No, we were just playing all that up for the cameras and the fans. I thought you knew." He gives a small, sad smile. "Nah, I'm still your perpetually single friend."

And Kris doesn't get why. Not with how brightly Bojan shines, how outgoing and charismatic and goodlooking he is.

"Yeah, I don't understand that," he says. "You could have anyone."

"Not anyone," Bojan says, and Kris' breath catches.

"So there is someone?" he asks He probably shouldn't ask, save himself from the knowledge that Bojan likes - maybe even loves - someone else. But all he finds himself thinking at this moment is: how could anyone not want Bojan? How could you not want the sun?

"Kris, don't..."

Right. If Bojan hasn't told him about it, it's probably because he doesn't want to talk about it. Though it does hurt that Bojan doesn't trust him with this, seemingly, when they trust each other with everything. But on the other hand, perhaps it's better that he doesn't hear any details about this inevitably perfect person who has managed to capture Bojan's heart.

"Right. Sorry," he agrees. "So everything with Kaarija was really....fanservice?"

[heylittleriotact]

Open Invitation - Twenty (Alexa, play Chandelier by Sia)

In which:

Wyll starts asking the right questions

Tiefling party oh my

Echo is basically white-girl wasted and crying on a curb into her chicken nuggies

Soft Astarion

accidentallovemaking.exe

Excerpt:

They eyed each other silently for a time, and Echo decided that even if this was entirely for her benefit - a pity fuck - she was going to pretend it wasn’t a complete farce: she would let herself fall in love with him for the night, and tomorrow morning she would let him go with the rising of the sun… and that would be that - a nice simple plan. The side of his nose rubbed against hers as he closed the space between their lips so that they were breathing the same air. He leaned closer, hesitating for a moment before capturing her lips with his. She opened her mouth, whining softly into the familiar and comforting feeling of his tongue brushing against hers, sending small shocks through her as he gathered her against him and pushed his fingers through her hair. He pulled her hips flush against his, and she was certain she’d never been closer to anyone in her life. She lifted a hand to palm his cheek, mapping the unforgettable geography of his marble-like skin before softly trailing her fingertips from the lobe of his ear to its pointed tip. He sighed at her touch and angled his head into her hand.

 Pairing: Tav (High Elf Feylock) x Astarion

Rating: Explicit

Themes: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Cycle Breaking, Happy Ending (but not without a lot of pain first), very involved archfey patron.

Disclaimer: Complex trauma delving with direct and implied reference to various forms of abuse, including rape/sexual assault, as well as implied self-harm, including suicidal thoughts/behaviour. Explicit violence. Smuuut.

[aprettyweirgirl]

ITS HEREEEEE

THE LINZUMI SERIES HAS STARTED. ENJOY

[biblio-smia]

some fake dating with peter parker plzz<3

"Can I have your number?"

The horrifying question pulls you out of your work and into a waking nightmare as your eyes fall onto a boy, around your age, standing over your lonely library table, phone held out towards you expectantly.

You laugh, because it's your first instinct to, forced and too loud.

"Oh, I'm okay," you say nervously, hoping it's enough to wave him off.

The boy stands, stunned, wondering if you'd misheard. "I asked for your number," he repeats through his own forced laugh, inching closer to you, his phone only inches from your face.

Discomfort pricks at your skin as you bite your lip, unsure now of what to do. Your eyes stare directly at your now dim computer screen, your own reflection visible, your eyes not daring to look up at the stranger's.

As the screen of your laptop finally turns black you catch the glimpse of another stranger behind you before your head snaps to the shuffle of movement beside you. Another boy, this one tall and brunette, slides into the chair next to yours comfortably. Two pairs of eyes have fallen on him, yours particularly wide in surprise.

God, why you?

"Hey," he says with an easy smile, eyes focused solely on you. "Sorry I'm late." His hand reaches for yours, fingers linking together too naturally.

You recognize him now - you've seen him around campus a few times, definitely, but you're sure you've never spoken to each other before today.

"It's fine," you say softly, trying to wipe the shock off of your face to not flush all this new stranger's efforts down the drain.

"You could've just said you had a boyfriend," the boy standing over you scoffs, phone finally tucked away and arms crossed.

Words falter as he walks away - though your attention is brought back to your hand, still interlocked with a stranger's. Your intense gaze makes the boy next to you redden and suddenly retract his hand, nerves beginning to pick up now that he has no audience to act for.

"I'm so sorry," he begins immediately. "You looked really uncomfortable, I'm sorry if I made you more uncomfortable." His hands are raised in surrender while his knee bounces nervously, eyes glancing for a quick escape.

"That was pretty quick thinking," you offer with a small smile. "Thanks for getting rid of him."

The boy smiles back, just slightly. There's still guilt in his eyes as he looks over you and your makeshift work station, hands moving to grab his few personal items.

"I'm sorry, I totally interrupted your study session," he laughs awkwardly, shouldering the bag he'd dropped on the table so carelessly earlier.

"Well, technically..." The rest of your thought fades as you focus on the sudden flinging of a bag back onto the table.

Your eyebrows furrow as you tilt your head, ready to ask the boy why he'd thrown his bag back down immediately before you notice how intensely he's looking at you.

"I don't think it's safe for me to go yet."

Something about his gaze tells you not to look behind you despite how badly you want to; you're sure it has something to do with a certain guy from earlier.

"I can take care of myself," you defend.

"I'm sure you can," he says in a tone so genuine it catches you off-guard. "I just can't, in good conscious, leave until he does."

Your lips part slightly at how much care a stranger holds for your well-being. It's a little strange, but not in the way that makes you shiver; strange in a way that makes your eyes wide and your cheeks warm.

"We could leave first," you suggest, closing the lid of your abandoned laptop. "I'm pretty much done anyway." It was a blatant lie, but there was no way for him to know that. Really, your motivator was not wanting to hold up any more of his time; how indebted would you be?

"Are you sure?" He only moves to pick his things up when you nod, accepting the interlocking arm you offer with red cheeks. He walks with you out of the library, stopping a good distance away from the primary doors and hopefully, any onlookers.

"Thank you..."

"Peter," he all but laughs, finding too much humor in the fact that you don't even know his name. "Peter Parker."

"Thank you, Peter. That was very nice of you."

"I try," Peter grins easily at you, taking a few steps backward as he waves goodbye. "See you around?"

"Yeah!" You call, though it's not certain; you don't have his number (as ironic as that is). "I'll see you!"

As Peter's back turns towards you and yours eventually turns towards him, you can't help the tingling of your fingers where they had been interlocked with his.

Nothing is certain. As far as you know, you may not see him for another couple of weeks.

Your next meeting will just have to be written in the stars.

masterlist

[sinful-skeptic]

I think it’s weird how there’s a double standard when it comes to atheists. So if i tell a religious person that i’m atheist, they’ll start interrogating me about my life. They would just assume that my atheism is because of some trauma that happened to me.

And then they would assume that atheists know everything about the universe. They would show you a phenomenon or whatever and tell you to explain it. And if you don’t know, they’ll think it’s a “gotcha” moment. Yet they allow it when people who identify with their religion barely know anything about it.

Like you can’t expect an atheist to debate with you anytime. We’re not omnipotent. We don’t know every single thing about the world, just like they don’t know every single thing about their religion. They’re holding us on a higher standard. And the reason is obvious.

[bluewatersfairy]

homebody - l.b.

loosely inspired by homebody by kalin white (a/n: i've been wanting to use this song for a longgg time)

synopsis: requested by @bemybinarystar! two people meet by chance on an app that thrives on anonymity and begin an x-rated relationship with one another filled with late night video calls.

warnings: mature content, MINORS DNI!! depictions of sex work, mutual masturbation.

word count: 3.2k

•••

Melo grabbed his laptop and climbed on top of his bed, checking one last time that there were no tell-tale signs in view that would make him identifiable.  This had become a part of his routine and what was once him being cautious was now a natural habit.  He originally didn’t care, it never even crossed his mind, but she had told him he needed to, she didn’t want to know who he was.  That was weird for him to hear too, it reminded him of how different this relationship was.  If you could call it a relationship.

When he had first discovered her, he was doom scrolling on the type of site that was created for late-night rendezvous.  He’d convinced himself he was just curious, he’d laugh about it later and go back to the more traditional way of fulfilling his needs.  But then he saw her smile and he had to stop scrolling.  Her description was limited, her height, tag name, and that she was drawn to the anonymity of the site; tell me something good and maybe we can figure something out.

The only reason Melo had even caught her attention was because his profile looked like a cheap bot: 2 tall, 2 long, fire’n’ice, was all his profile said.  His request sat in her inbox for two days until he sent her another message, ‘you ever think about castles?  they got pretty ones by the lakes in lithuania.’  It was a bizarre opening, but it got him out of her requests and into her inbox.

They messaged back and forth for a full week before anything remotely sexual was discussed.  Melo liked that she wasn’t jumping at his every response and that it looked like she had a life too.  During that week, they hadn’t shared much about themselves, but he felt like she was investigating him, despite the very few questions she asked.  The first time he received the app notification that she’d sent him a picture, his palms started getting sweaty.  

He locked himself in his room, something that would become routine, laid back on his bed and opened her message thread.  It was a tasteful shot of her full thighs and ass peaky out of a red silk slip.  Her deep amber skin against the scarlet made him gulp.  It was so little, nothing he hadn’t seen before, but it pulled his interest and ignited his curiosity.  She had waited for him to see the message before she sent the follow up, ‘your turn…”

Melo had spent the next 10 minutes cleaning his floor and checking that nothing could be seen in the background from his messy room.  He spat in his palm and stroked his hard-on till it was raging and grown.  He held the base of his shaft with one hand and took a photo with the other before sending it through.  

That was two months ago and though neither of them had asked many personal questions, there was this unspoken bond between them.  She didn’t need him to say when he’d had a rough day, and he knew how she needed to be talked to.  He found himself thinking of her at the worst of times and turning to her when he needed a boost.  In return, he’d transfer undisclosed amounts of money to her account.  Again, this was something they hadn’t really talked about, it was an unspoken agreement.

Of course, she never expected him to be so generous.  

At first, she assumed that it was an attempt to impress her and keep her interested in him.  She had told him after maybe a week of exchanging racy pictures that she offered more, but for it to be fair to the other people she entertained, he had to pay a small fee that he felt reflected their time together.  The beauty of the site that she considered her secret life was that she got to choose her clients and could easily report and block people if they ever became aggressive or obsessive.  She’d always managed to attract men who exhibit something she’s attracted to, but she knew “fire’n’ice” was closer to her age and clearly in a high position, and that image was addictive to her.  

When he had first sent her a large sum out of the blue, she’d been 3 hours deep in official documents.  She imagined him in a similar position, probably in slacks and a white button up, trapped in his office thinking about taking her at his desk.  She’d quickly excused herself, citing lady problems, and clicked off to the employee bathroom.

Melo, who was standing in his kitchen heating up one of the several protein-based meals he had made weekly, received a message with 3 attachments.  She was spreading herself open for him, and had framed her tits in such a way, he just wanted to latch on.  He’d groaned loudly and abandoned his meal in favour of his room.  His cock was tight against his pants and the second he freed it, he felt the ache take over his body.  

He squeezed his eyes shut and pictured her, imagining how she posed.  He thrust into his fist and straggled words flew out of his mouth.  In the haze of the moment, he grabbed his phone and opened the camera. 

“Look at my fuckin’ cock, babygirl, look how hard it is for you.” He spat as he finished his sentence, needing more moisture so he could fuck his hand better.  “I bet you’d love to choke on my big fuckin’ dick, aye baby?  I’d fuck your face and finish all over your tits.”  

He paid no mind to what he was saying, he was just talking shit as he thrusted harder and faster into his hand.  His cum spurted all over his desk, some of it landing on his phone screen.  He swore and stopped the recording before bending over, his chest heaving.  He’d never thought to do something like that before.  She hadn’t even made a video for him, she’d only ever sent pictures.  What had she done to him?

The video worked in Lamelo’s favour in more ways than he could have possibly known.  She already had a growing soft spot for mr. fire’n’ice but that video sent him to the top of her list.  He was the first client she reached out to during the days and his sessions were always top priority for her.  It didn’t have much to do with the money, she was just drawn to him in every way a person can be to someone they’ve never met or even seen properly.  He even had her questioning if she should take a step back from her other clients and just entertain him.  

It was bad.  Unprofessional even.  But she couldn’t stop herself.

LaMelo was still checking his background when her call came in, popping up on his screen with her explicit profile icon highlighted with a red ring.  He pressed the green button and did one final adjustment to his laptop so all she could see was below his neck.  He always wore a black wife-beater so that his chest tattoo was mostly covered but so she could still get a good view of his toned torso and the ever growing bulge in his shorts.

“Hi pretty boy,” her ruby red lips pulled into a grin on his screen.  She looked like she was laying on her stomach, her tits pushed together under a slip of vibrant material.  

“‘Sup baby,” Melo swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, “you lookin’ edible.”

She giggled as she ran her hand down her neck before reaching somewhere off camera.  She was sitting up, he realised, before she brought something of a prop on screen.

“I was gonna say I found these today and thought of you,” she giggled again, “I know you’re much bigger, but you can’t tell me that’s not a close match.”  Melo smirked as he watched her twirl two rainbow lolly-cocks in the camera.  

“They not that girthy, you could still fit them in your mouth easy,” Melo felt his dick twitch as she rested her pouty lips on the tip of the lolly.

“Are you saying your dick won’t fit in my mouth?” she bit on her bottom lip and dragged her hand down her chest as she spoke.

“I’m sayin’ it won’t be easy.”  Melo’s hand moved to the bulge in his pants and he gently palmed it.

“I like a challenge,” she smiled, “I’ll make sure it fits baby, you know I’m a good girl for you.”

“Show me.” 

His voice was raspy, and his dick was hard.  She’d caught him at the perfect time and he knew she could tell just how desperate he was for her.  He didn’t care that she knew anymore.  Truthfully, he thought it showed how well they knew each other and how much he trusted her.  

“Of course baby,” she grinned before adjusting her laptop camera slightly.  

Melo watched closely as she spat on the tip of the lolly cock and used her tongue to glide it down.  Kitten licks and teasing kisses quickly turned into her pouty lips wrapped around the head.  The wet sounds her mouth made against the hard lolly did nothing but strengthen the pulse in Melo’s cock.  He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip before readjusting himself, watching as she pushed the lolly further into her mouth.  

“You’re such a good girl, baby,” Melo pushed out with his head leaning back.  He watched her through his eyelashes, picturing her wrapped around him.  His chest rose and fell at a steady pace and his skin flushed pink.  He was getting caught up in the thick of things, he barely processed her transitioning from the lolly cock to one of her dildos.

It was one they had purchased together.  It was a late night call, much like they were currently on, and she had wanted to find something a bit different for the two of them.  Her screen was shared with him as they scrolled through an adult website.  Every now and then Melo would point out one, whether he was being serious or joking was always up for interpretation.  

“I want something that’s like you,” she said sheepishly when Melo had asked why he was involved, “it’s like torture seeing such a pretty and big dick and not be able to ride it.”  

They’d found a dildo similar to his size and when it came in the mail a week later, Melo received a video of her putting it in her mouth, popping it out and pushing it between her tits.  She said she wouldn’t to anything else without him, but he was out of town and sharing a room so it would be a minute until he was going to be able to be alone with her.  It ended up being one of their better calls.  Melo could barely keep his eyes open by the end of it, he felt so fucked out and exhausted, you’d think she had actually been there to suck the soul out of him.  He’d jokingly texted her the next morning saying he had a sore wrist.  It wasn’t a complete joke though, many coaches commented on his shooting being off that day at practice. 

“Oh baby,” she moaned through the camera as she pulled the rubber cock out of her mouth, “touch yourself baby, show me how you stroke it.”

Melo was rock hard.  He hissed as he ran his hand up his thick shaft and circled his thumb over his throbbing head, spreading his leaked pre-cum so she could see it.  She spat on her dildo as he squirted lube on himself.  

“Follow my pace baby,” she instructed, “you know how much I love to push you.”

“I’ll do whatever you say baby,” Melo swallowed and began to stroke his dick as she jacked the dildo.  She switched between going fast and slow, bringing different sounds out of Melo as she encouraged him.  She moaned at every twitch of his dick and felt herself growing hotter and hotter with each stroke.

“Fuck,” she spat out as Melo had to let go of his cock, his head thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut, “you wanna cum don’t you baby?”

“I don’t wanna,” Melo groaned as he smacked his cock, “you just drive me crazy Ma.”  His eyes refocused on his screen to find she’d changed positions.

She was sitting now, her thighs spread so her pussy was on full display.  Melo cussed at the sight of it.  Even through the camera he could tell she was just as heated as he was.  She was visibly swollen and practically dripping.  She giggled as she slipped her fingers through her folds, a visible tremble running through her at the same time.

“Look how ready I am for you,” she moaned as she fingered her clit, “you’d stretch me out so good with that big cock.”

“I’d give you the fuck of your life,” Melo gripped his cock again, “have yo ass screamin’.”

She picked up the dildo from her side and rubbed the tip against her entrance, “tell me baby,” she hummed, “tell me how you’d do me.”

“I’d fuck you in so many ways,” he started to jerk his cock again.  “God, I’d fuck you into your mattress baby, giving you the deepest strokes of your life.  You’ve never had a dick like this.”

“No I haven’t,” she whined, pushing the dildo inside her, “you’d have to go slow with me, I wanna make sure I feel every inch of you.”  she let out a gasp of a pet name, her free hand gripping on to her tit.

“God just the sight of your cock makes me feel crazy,” her hips were moving against her hand, pushing the rubber cock in and out, trying desperately to match Melo’s pace.  If he could function enough to think of anything at that moment, he’d appreciate her commitment to making it feel like they were together, fucking.  But his brain wasn’t working anymore.  Everything that came to mind was nothing shy of filth. 

“It’s all yours baby, and you’d look so fucking good bouncing on top of it.”

She moaned at his words, her tits bouncing as she fucked herself harder.  

“This big fucking dick is all yours, whenever you want it, I don’t care where, it’s yours.”

His room filled with a mix of her moans, his heavy breathing and the sound of his hand beating his cock, slapping with how fast he was jerking.

“Oh and this pussy is all yours daddy,” she moaned loudly, “I’m all yours baby.  You can put that pretty dick whereever you want and use me for whatever you need.  I just need you all over me daddy, your big hands wrapped in my hair, around my throat.”

“I’ll slut you out baby,” Melo groaned as he chased her words, “I’ll make you cum so much the whole world gon’ hear.”  

“I’m gonna cum,” she all but screamed, “keep talking, tell me baby, I want to hear you.”

“I’ll fuck you from behind in the mirror, baby.  Smack yo’ ass and pull your hair and make you look me in the eye while you cum all over my big dick.”  Melo repressed a loud moan and swallowed hard.  “We gon’ fuck all night, baby, the second you cum, I’m sticking it right back in there.  I’ll make it so you won’t be able to walk in the morning.”

Melo watched her body react to his words and struggled to process the sight. Her chest was heaving, fucking the dildo in and out of her hole with her hand tight on her clit.  She swore over and over again until her words were nothing but moans and Melo saw everything reach it’s peak.  She pulled the dildo out of her and did everything she could to stop her thighs from clamping shut.

“Holy fuck,” she gasped with her head thrown back and her hands jammed between her thighs.  She collasped against whatever was behind her and Melo watched her spread herself open and squirt.  “Oh baby, I’m cumming so fucking hard.”

Melo just about double over, letting out the loudest moans and groans he’d ever made as his load spurted out of his tip.  He massaged his balls and watched his seed cover his lower stomach and parts of his laptop.

“Fuck,” he sighed as he leaned back and let his dick stand to its own want.  

For a minute, the two of them didn’t move, just panting heavily staring at one another.  Occasionally, he’d stroke his shaft and rub his balls at the same time to see if he had anything left.  She was the first one to move, laying back down to the position she’d been in when the call started.

“Every time I think we’ve reached our peak, you go and do the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” she giggled as she put one of her fingers to her lips.

“Tell me how that pussy tastes babe,” he said, his voice audibly strained.  She smirked and put her fingers in her mouth, sucking them off.

“It tastes sweet and creamy,” she let her wet fingers drag down her naked torso to her nipples.

“You’re a fuckin’ problem,” Melo grinned and shook his head, reaching for the rag he washed for this call.

“I’m a problem?” she giggled, pointing to herself, “you’re the one who’s got me thinking of throwing all the policies out the window.”

“Policies?” Melo asked, suddenly brought out of his post-nut daze.  “What are you tryna say?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted with a shrug, “but don’t you feel it too?  Don’t you want to see my face?  Know my name?”

“I want all of the above, baby,” Melo pulled his laptop closer to him.  “Are you saying there’s more we could do?”

“I’m just thinking out loud here,” she hesitated, “you’re the first person I feel like I’d be safe sharing my secrets with.”  What was she saying?

It was a big confession, she wants to elevate things.  Melo couldn’t decide if it was his money or him but he really didn’t care.  He wanted to have her name and he wanted her to know his name.  But it’s unique, and she’d know exactly who he was if he said it.

Fuck it.

“LaMelo,” he rushed to say, spitting it out before he could think twice.  “I’m LaMelo.”

She smiled wide and he watched as she reached out to her laptop screen and pushed it back slightly.

“I’m Y/N,” she giggled.

LaMelo repeated her name, letting it pass through his lips to see how it’d feel saying it.

“So Y/N,” Melo smiled as he pushed his laptop screen a bit too, showing more of him, “if I offered to fly you out, would you say no?”

“Oh baby,” she smirked, “I’d be there in a heartbeat.  I want all that dick in real life.”

“Aight, bet,” Melo picked up his phone from beside him, “you give me a date and I’ll work out all the rest.”

[killedbythegroove]

hi friends if any of y'all have been keeping up with my funky little story on ao3 you know its been a Hot Minute since i updated but she's finally done and i figured i'd post it here too bc im pretty proud of her tbh :')

[virescent-v]

Masterlist

Hi ya'll! I'm V. I write Emily Prentiss x reader fics (most of which are smutty and 18+) and I was told to do this. For easier access.

*snap me, emily pt 1

*snap me, emily pt 2

*bars & bets

*phone tag

*phone tag pt 2

*definitely not friends

*office hours

school yard bully

*school yard bully pt. 2

*except me *except me pt 2 bad day

*like a prayer

*aftermath siren call

french kiss oh baby

bossy

Secrets and Stakes:

s&s pt 1

s&s pt 2

*smut :)

[v-thinks-on]

It’s so obvious now that the other Yugi—Atem—is his own person, it’s amazing none of them realized it before. Even just hanging out on the Mutos’ couch playing a video game, they’re sitting so close together they might as well still be sharing the same body, and they’re always perfectly in sync. Joey can’t compete with that, and he doesn’t want to compete exactly.

Joey puts down his controller as his cart crosses the finish line and stands up. “I should probably go, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Two pairs of brilliant purple eyes framed by impossibly spiky hair turn to look up at him in unison—it would be equal parts uncanny and funny if they didn’t pierce straight to his heart.

“Joey,” Atem says, as grave as ever, “there is no reason for you to depart. You should know that your presence is hardly an intrusion.”

Yugi makes an exasperatedly fond face without even glancing at Atem, like they’re still sharing a body, and grabs Joey’s arm to keep him from leaving. “What Atem means to say is that you belong here as much as we do. Please stay.”

Joey never could resist those wide purple eyes.

(Read More on AO3)

[rain-ghoul-appreciator]

I would wish it all away, if i thought tomorrow, they'd take you away

kinda nervous but first little ficlet thing on good old tumblr dot com

just 744 words of swiss being so incredibly in love with mountain and rain that it hurts

✭✭✭✭

under the cut or on AO3

if you were to ask "what would you change about your life?"

swiss would simply answer with a laugh and say nothing. which is true. so incredibly true.

why would he change anything in the first place? he already has everything her could possibly hope for. 

every morning he wakes up next to the people he loves the most in his life. every morning he traces his thumbs over the spattering of freckles that adorn mountain's cheeks. every morning he plays connect the dots with the moles and rain's arms.

he wouldn't trade them for the world.

and when mountain eventually wakes up, swiss smiles and tells him good morning, giggles at his half conscious mumbling, and knows that it's gonna he a good day. 

the two bask in the rays of sunlight peeking through the curtains for hours until rain finally rises from the dead. 

swiss tells him good morning, kisses the tip of his nose, and smiles when that lavender hue spreads across the water ghoul's face. 

mountain reaches over eventually, brushing the hair from rain's face before rain eventually rolls over to fetch mountain's glasses. and swiss smiles and the familiarity of their routine. smiles at the familiarity of his mates, curled up next to him, sunbathing in the morning rays. 

coffee is the next most important thing on their list, after kisses of course. mountain grabs their mugs from the top shelf, specially hidden there so that a certain mr dewdrop ghoul cant steal them; while swiss grabs the coffee he knows rain would turn into a puddle without, the tea mountain made himself out of the flowers and herbs in his greenhouse, and hot chocolate for himself because he's already too awake for caffeine. 

they all have it down to a science now. rain gets to use the coffee maker first. it's always been that way. swiss refuses to watch rain stand there all grumpy and tired when he has to wait to make his coffee. 

only once the coffee is brewed and the princess is happy will swiss touch the machine. mountain watches the two work around each other in perfect harmony, content with just waiting for his water to boil on the stove instead of getting it from the coffee maker. 

they all sit in silence afterwards, save for the occasional sniffle or tail thumping against the ground, sipping their chosen drinks in peace. 

swiss loves mornings like this. when it's just them.

he still loves the others, of course. he cant go at least one day without terrorizing a grumpy little fire ghoul in the mornings. and he obviously will still reluctantly leave bed when he smells the signature scent of aether making pancakes. and who is he to deny cumulus a night of cuddling after a hard day of mindless ministry chores. 

but it doesnt stop him from loving, needing, craving, mornings like these. morning where him, mountain, and rain just exist. mornings where he can curl up on the couch sandwiched between the two. 

and even on days when he knows it's gonna be bad, he still won't deny mountain his snuggles or rain his kisses. and if he where to deny them of their wants, he knows they'll be waiting for him with open arms when he finally comes around. 

because even on the days where nothing seems to go quite right, he knows that once he is in his favorite earth giant's arms, or his favorite siren's nest of pillows, everything will be fine.

so if you were to ask swiss what he would change about his life, he would say absolutely nothing.

even if you were to offer him the most appealing prize in the world, he would shake his head and move on. 

swiss loves mountain, and rain, and his pack, and all the little things they do to piss him off, make him cry or smile. 

he wouldn't trade his life even if it were to save the world. 

but if it were mountain, or rain, or his pack, or his papa, then he would give all he could just to know that they would be okay.

because a world without mountain is a world without warmth. because a world without rain is a world without knowledge and beauty. because a world without his pack or his papa is dull and bleak. because a world without the ones he loves is a world that is not worth living in.