#Swiss Air Force | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

little-worm-grant · 4 months

Text

Spicy Steven: Rainy Day

Steven Grant x You (Fem!Reader)

1,864 words / 18+ only, no minors

Masterlist.

If you like what you see, leave a like or reblog and follow me ♥

Summary: What if Steven got all embarrassed he couldn’t last?! It's far too easy to wind him up. But maybe you both girlbossed a little too close to the sun this time. Less plot, more smut.

Notes: Please be kind. First time publicly publishing smut. I was looking at my tame + wholesome masterlist thinking I should write something new for Steven. Then this filth was forced upon my innocent little swiss-cheese brain. You can take my keyboard away from me now. I’m sorry. But also you’re welcome.

Warnings: soft domme fem!reader, submissive Steven kind of but not totally??, teasing, fluff/praise, masturbation, piv sex, unprotected sex, premature ejaculation, creampie, cum play

You were lying naked on his bed. Rain pouring outside had caused you to stay over his place a few hours more. One thing led to another. You’d barely teased him but Steven was already crawling up your body. Kissing all the spots he’d missed going down. Tilting your head to catch sight of his thickened cock swinging between each movement. Your legs shift to squeeze against him in anticipation. You knew what was coming next and you couldn’t wait another second.

He was like some over-eager puppy given the okay to come up for air. That talented mouth of his became over-stimulation at this point. You once asked him what he thought about when he went down on you, expecting him to say something daft that would stop him from making a mess of the sheets. Instead, he told you he’d been writing how he felt about you in hieroglyphics. The sucking is just a bonus because he loved the taste of you. He didn’t need to do much to get your pussy to flutter. He never did make you work for it. If only he knew the power he held over you, he’d be downright dangerous.

Ever since the first time you’d gotten intimate with each of them, Steven was the only one to never tell you no. You sometimes worried you’d do something he wouldn’t like and he might not tell you as you cuddled together afterwards. When he looked back at you with those bold expressive eyes, it told you everything you needed to know. You realized all you wanted to do was take good care of him.

Steven clumsily crawled up to meet your lips. The taste of you on his tongue. His body shifted and an arm slithers between the two of you. A moment later, you feel him stroking his head across your soaked folds. Guiding himself home. You’ve been suffering through his fingers and his mouth already. More than ready to feel him fully.

When he takes a second too long for your patience, you order him to lie back.

Flipping positions. You help him down the last part of the way with a push and a smile. His cock had slipped out somewhere in the movements. Not a problem. You were up on your knees over him. Steven lay back, looking both entirely surprised to be there and not letting his focus up for what came next.

You reach down and give him a few exploratory pumps. Being gentle, starting from the head where most of the pre-cum and your fluids had accumulated. You use just your middle finger and thumb to smear it over his thick spongy head, dragging it down to the bundle of nerves to play with. Gentle back-and-forth motions. Steven jerked with his whole body. Quickly throwing his lip into a bite to hold back the noise. He wasn’t fooling anyone. You still heard it. Came out more like a whine.

“Pretty boy. How about another moan for me?” You coo. He looked back at you like a wounded animal. Those curls on his face framed him just right for the compliment.

“This ain’t on. You’ve been bloody teasing me all night.” He shook his head. His hands palmed at the bedsheets on either side of him. Even after all this time, he still never seemed to know what to do with his hands. Adorable.

You look away from him. Watching the rain beat down on the windows. Pretending not to know he’s there while you continue to stroke. He could tell you to stop if he wanted, but you both knew he wasn’t about to do that. Instead, he squirmed and tolerated it for as long as he could before his words managed to find the tip of his tongue.

“Please? I don’t want to be the twat that jizzes on himself because my girl’s stunning but she’s an absolute menace.”

Shuffling up a little more you stop stroking and kept your hand still around him. “Oh, I’m a menace, am I?” Offering a gentle squeeze. Steven squirmed without trying to move away, looking like he was about to burst then and there. His cheeks turn a lovely shade of red as he nodded and scrambled to find a comeback to say.

“Uh-huh. Yup- The kind that looks at a beautiful sunrise and tells it to buggar off for a few more hours sleep.”

“No-one needs to be making anything at that time my business. What’s that got to do with me being a menace?”

“It’s got everything to do with-“

You lined yourself up while he rambled. Sinking down on him without warning. Finding a way to shut him up. You slid down far as you could tolerate before you needed to slow down the last part of the way. The stretch tingled. You catch a stuttered breath in your throat.

“Oh- oh god.” He spluttered out. Hands flying away from the bedsheets to grip at your thighs, as if searching for some kind of stability. There was none. Him holding you like that wasn’t going to stop you. Hips wiggled slowly from side to side to fit yourself snugly onto him.

You grind down and start slow. Finding that pace you liked where his cock would hit the spot just right. Small noises came from him. Breathier ones from you. You’d barely started rocking against him before you felt him shudder. His eyes were rolled back and you felt his cock pumping a hot mess deep inside you.

Game over.

Steven held you a little tighter before releasing his grip. Face going pale. Surprising himself. “Shit- I am so so sorry.” He looked as mortified as he sounded. Hands coming up to cover his face he groaned.

You laugh lightly and shake your head at him. Stopping immediately to lower yourself down onto him to rest. Leaning down to bring your face in closer to his. Hands moved on his, guiding them away from his face to hold down against the pillow. Boy looked like he could use a hug. Instead, you squeeze his hands in yours. Rubbing your nose against his.

“Aw no, baby, don’t feel bad. It’s okay. I’m still having fun. You already got me off once, be proud of that.”

You shower his face in peppered kisses. His softer hands stroke up your sides. Could have mistaken him for Marc with all that guilt lining his features. You stroke his knuckles with your thumbs and kiss away his embarrassment once more. A little longer lasting this time.

“I’ll take the blame for that. I’ve been teasing you for ages. Or maybe I’m just that good you can’t control yourself around me.”

You move your hand away from him to pretend to wipe the glitter off your shoulder. Glitter was an inside joke you both shared regularly. That got a laugh out of him and you feel the movement of his softer cock slipping out from inside you. You shifted to the feeling of it. The mess he’d made coming with it. Pooling on his abdomen and leaking down your legs.

“You are so amazing.” He tells you. "Can I touch you?"

Nodding, you bite your lip when his hand wiggles out from under yours and goes down. Feeling his fingers immediately stroke over your used needy hole had you tensing up. You press into his touch. Steven leaned back up to meet your lips. Less desperate this time, more loving. You hear his words murmured against you.

“I feel bad I keep making a mess before you can finish.”

“Don’t be. Just means we need to try again, right?” You say more hopefully, a glint of a smile when you lean back to see him nod without any words. More concentrated on what he was doing to you.

You feel Steven’s fingers leaving you alone. Casting your eyes down to see what he was doing, you watch him scoop up some of the mess from his abdomen then bring it up to stuff back into you. The temperature difference was felt and caused you to shiver. The way his fingers lazily toyed with the cum on your pussy warmed you back up from the inside out.

He brought his other arm up behind his head to be able to watch better. Your hands stayed where they are, pressed into the pillow either side of him. His fingers caught cum drooling down your legs to spread over your pussy. Slow strokes before he’d go find some more, either from around you or inside. You were already wound up from everything, needing that blissful high he could put you into. Hips rocking, chasing his touch. A few more minutes of this had you trembling and him stiff as a rock again. Maybe he did know what to do with his hands after all.

This time. There was no waiting. No holding back. The moment Steven was aligning himself you were sinking down and seeking out that spot with more ferocity than you’d had before. Steven matched your rhythm with coordinated thrusts.

Pushing himself to sit up and catch your nipple in his mouth. He sucked sloppily, then moving up after your mouth. Hand slipped between you both again to play with you. Firmer. More in that way you'd shown him you liked. It was your turn to grip onto him for stability. Swallowing each other's moans and thrusting roughly until you both finished. You first, him following a few thrusts later.

The kisses turned softer. You lay back in bed together and stroked over each others bare skin. Air coming back to your lungs as you both come down from the clouds you were on.

You see him thinking loudly with that familiar distant stare. Off in his own world again. A moment later he was blinking as he snapped back into the moment, focusing back on you. You wait to see who it might be. His expression changed all shy and it made you laugh. Still Steven then.

“What?”

“I was just thinking. We should have more rainy days like this. But like, every day.”

“Yeah? I’d like that.”

“Wouldn’t need to leave if it was every day. This'd be your place too.”

“Is this your way of asking me to move in?”

“That’s uh- I think- I mean, yeah? I guess it is. What do you think?”

“Say it then. Ask me properly.”

“Alright.” He shifted onto his side. His hand in his hair to prop his head up and look down at you. “Will you move in with me?”

Without a beat, you smile and say, “No.” His face contorted up. You soften up your smile and squeeze him. “I need to talk to the others first. Otherwise, yes.”

“Had me for a second then… You flipping menace.” He dove down to tackle you with kisses and playful bites which have you squirming and unable to breathe through the laughter. Pushing back to try and pin him down. Wouldn't matter if it turned into something more. You both had all the time in the world. The perfect way to spend a rainy day.

#steven grant #oscar isaac #moon knight #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant x fem!reader #mcu fanfiction #steven grant smut #mcu smut #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfiction #open rp #open starter #stevens pov

460 notes · View notes

pnsteblnme · 7 months

Text

a slight headache ✿ k.m.

pairing: katie mccabe x reader

summary: katie's corner kick leads to a dramatic turn of events.

warning: injuries, blood, cursing, me trying to write angst

word count: 2.1k

a/n: this was a request from ages ago and i'm so sorry that it took so long! i don't really know how to write angst so i hope it's not that bad

It was the 89th minute, the score read 1:1, and Katie was ready to take the corner kick.

Even though it was tied right now, Arsenal clearly had the upper hand. It was a one-sided game from the beginning of the second half, with the gunners constantly creating opportunities and taking numerous shots at the goal.

Katie raised her hands, signalling to everyone that she was about to shoot.

You stood a few metres in front of the goal, waiting for the ball to come flying towards you. When you finally spotted it sailing through the air and barreling in your direction, you immediately moved forward before jumping as high as you could.

Feeling the ball connect with your forehead, you held your breath and saw it nestling into the back of the net.

Then, your head flew to the side. A sharp ringing filled your ears. Thousands of black spots clouded your vision. Everything went silent.

Katie let out an elated shout, running to the penalty box to celebrate with her teammates. Seeing you still on the ground, she thought you were just too exhausted to stand up.

Though when Lia leaned down to check up on you and yelled for the medics in distraught, the Irish woman felt her heart drop and rushed to your side.

The sight before her made a chill run down her spine, breath catching in her throat. Your head propped up on Lia’s thighs as gushing waves of red emerged from the side of your head and painted her shorts the same colour as her crimson jersey.

The brunette fell to her knees next to your still body, hand reaching for yours, praying that you would open her favourite pair of eyes and tell her you were just playing with her.

While the Swiss woman pressed her hand to your wound to minimise the blood that was still flowing out of your head at an agonisingly fast pace, Katie’s right hand cupped your cheek as she whispered, “Please wake up, Y/N/N.”

After the medics came rushing and ushered your teammates away, your girlfriend having to be pulled away by Leah, fury roared within her.

Noticing Zecira, whose fists had smashed into your head, standing a few metres ahead of her, the brunette’s hands clenched, knuckles turning white, as she bridged the gap between them with tramping steps.

“Are you sick in the fuckin’ head?” Katie spat, pushing the goalkeeper with such force that, despite the immense height difference between the two, the taller girl stumbled.

Nostrils flaring and jaw clenching, she continued to shove her with the vigour of a thousand flames until she tumbled to the ground, Katie’s finger prodding at her chest as she spewed more insults her way.

Before the altercation could escalate any further, a turmoil of Chelsea and Arsenal players separated them and tried to calm the hot-headed left back down.

When Katie’s breathing had slowed down, she cautiously let her gaze travel back to you, afraid of the sight she’d have to face. You were just being put onto the stretcher, the white bandage wrapped around your head tainted red as the referee called the brunette’s name.

Turning around with tears on the brink of cascading down her cheeks, she faced the woman who held up a yellow card - the second time it was directed towards her this game, consequently meaning she’d be sent off and banned from the next match.

Not caring about that in the slightest, Katie whirled around and quickly jogged to where you were being carried to the ambulance, her vision blurring with unshed tears as she could feel her heart break, the sight of your still unresponsive body making her stomach drop.

After she was allowed to ride to the hospital with you, the brunette sat next to you, one hand tightly gripping your cold one as the other was pressed against her mouth to stifle the sobs that so desperately wanted to come out.

Thoughts were running through her head at a thousand miles per hour, her shoulders slumped and her teeth digging into her bottom lip, nearly drawing blood. She didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how she could help you, how she could tell you that everything was going to be fine when you couldn’t even hear her.

Feeling the teeniest squeeze on her hand, she picked her head up so fast, that she was surprised she didn’t get whiplash. Heart bursting with relief when you let out a quiet groan, Katie cupped your cheek, softly tracing her thumb over your skin as she soothed, “Everythin’s gonna be fine, love.”

“You’re gonna be alright, I promise,” she continued, pressing a feather-light kiss on the back of your hand as a few tears that had gathered at her chin dropped to her thighs.

When they arrived at the hospital shortly after, the doctor told her to stay in the waiting room until they informed her about the next steps.

After ten minutes of nervous pacing and anxiously chewing on her nails in the dull room, which reeked of antiseptics and had excruciatingly bright lights, the brunette was joined by a few of her teammates, only a handful of girls having come in order to not disturb you.

They had sat there for another ten minutes before the door was opened by a doctor, “Y/N Y/L/N?” he questioned as he looked at the clipboard in his hands.

Chair scraping against the ground and almost tipping over, Katie stood up in the blink of an eye and rushed to the door, “Is she alright?”

Flipping a page on his board, he looked up with a comforting smile and nodded, “She suffered a grade 4 concussion and we had to stitch up the cut on her temple. She may have a few complaints like nausea, headaches and sensitivity to light and noise but in a couple of weeks she should be perfectly fine again.”

The Irish woman let out a huge sigh of relief at hearing the doctor’s words, a weight being lifted off her shoulders.

“Okay, so there is a very big chance that this is not the case, but because it’s not a hundred percent impossible, I need to inform you that she could suffer from post-traumatic amnesia,” noticing the woman’s face fall again, the doctor added, “I’m certain though, that if that should happen, it’d only be temporary.”

Nodding her head, Katie took a few breaths and tried to take all of the information in, “Can I see her?” He hummed in agreement before advising, “I think it’d be good if only one or two people went in because she’ll probably feel a little dazed and sensitive to noise et cetera.”

“Okay, thank you so much,” she exclaimed, sending him a grateful smile as she made her way to her teammates and told them everything he had just explained to her. Knowing that you’d be absolutely exhausted and thankful for the tranquillity, the others decided to visit some other time, leaving just Katie to enter your room.

When she closed the door behind her and turned around to face you, the brunette let out a huge breath, corners of her mouth tentatively turning upwards as she sat down on the edge of the chair next to the bed you were sleeping on.

Reaching for your hand, her smile brightened, finally relishing in the feeling of your warm skin against hers. The urge to kiss you became too strong to resist and she leaned over you to gently press a kiss against your forehead.

The sound of rustling bedsheets filled the room as you groaned, eyes fluttering open, Katie’s face twisting into a grimace, “Sorry love, I didn’t mean to wake ya.”

It took you a moment to answer, having to get used to the brightness of the room and the ache throbbing in your head. When you finally locked eyes with your girlfriend, your eyebrows furrowed, “And you are..?”

Suddenly, Katie’s whole body went rigid, a shiver colder than the worst winter storms in her hometown spreading from within her, looking at you with eyes that held more heartache than anything else you’d ever seen.

“I- uh… god, I-,” she tried to get words to come out of her mouth, but the thought of the love of her life not knowing who she was, filled her whole being with an all-encompassing heaviness.

Noticing how affected the brunette was, you hastily grabbed her hand, “No, I’m just kidding, Katie!”

“This isn’t fuckin’ funny,” she grumbled, slapping your arm, a glare stretching across her face, “I was worried about you, dickhead!”

“Ow! How dare you hit an injured woman?”

When the sound of your laughter filled her ears, all of the previous darkness inside of her vanished, warmth spreading through her chest as the sight of your bright smile ignited one of her own.

“Shut up,” Katie groaned, face pressed into the mattress next to your thigh. Your gaze travelled to her hunched-over form, eyes twinkling even under these horrible hospital lights as your hand tangled in her hair, gently scratching at her scalp.

The Irish woman’s breath evened out, the first time since that godforsaken corner kick that she felt something akin to peace.

“Come here,” you cooed after she lifted her head and you patted the space next to you.

Crawling under the blanket with you, Katie wrapped her arms around your waist, tightly squeezing your body against hers as if she were afraid you’d slip right through her fingers.

Head laying on your shoulder, she leaned back a bit to look into your eyes, breath fanning across your face as she softly questioned, “Does it still hurt?”

You brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, leaving your hand on her cheek and gently tracing her skin, “I do have a bit of a headache but other than that it’s like nothing happened,” you assured your girlfriend with a grin.

Katie visibly relaxed at your answer, her tense shoulders relaxing as she pressed her lips to your cheek, the simple action being enough to get your stomach doing somersaults.

“Except,” you winced, dragging out the word at the end, “what happened exactly? I only remember you being about to shoot that corner but after that, it’s like-,” you gestured with your hands.

“Ya headed the ball into the goal and then that daft cow punched you,” your girlfriend grumbled as her face scrunched in anger.

Your fingers drew random shapes on her hips, where her hoodie had revealed a tiny bit of her tanned skin, “I’m sure that was just an accident.”

“An accident?! She should get her arms cut off for that and-”

“Please tell me you didn’t do anything stupid,” you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes of your little devil having controlled herself. When Katie unintelligibly mumbled something under her breath and avoided your gaze, you knew you were wrong.

“What did you do?”

Still not meeting your eyes, the Irish woman conceded with a small voice, “I may have pushed her,” eyes now scanning the ceiling as if it was the most interesting thing in the world, she added, “and I may have gotten another yellow card.”

“Katie!” you exclaimed, smacking her head as you sat up and glared at her, “Why would you do that? Now you’re banned from our next game!”

Turning to you with a smirk and a shrug of her shoulders, “She deserved it.”

Being met with an onslaught of your hands, she quickly grabbed your wrists and gently pinned them to the bed. When you continued to struggle in her hold, the brunette straddled you - carefully as to not hurt you any further, “Maybe it was wrong but I was just so mad at her and seeing you losing so much blood, it just- I couldn’t contro-”

You leaned up and pressed your lips against hers, a sigh escaping your mouth when her hands wandered to your face and gently cupped your cheeks.

Katie instantly relaxed, tingles running through her whole body with just a brush of your lips.

The brunette couldn’t put into words how relieved she was that you were here in her arms, out of harm’s way, with just a concussion and on your way to recovery.

She knew that you didn’t like the way she handled a lot of things, but she also knew that you accepted her the way she was, because you loved her just the way she was - as you made sure to tell her daily.

#woso #katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #arsenal

761 notes · View notes

nocternalrandomness · 4 months

Text

"Draken Diamond"

#Swiss Air Force #Saab #Draken #J35 #Military aviation #Fighter #Interceptor #Aviation photography #Dragon #Kite

69 notes · View notes

eyestothe-skies · 1 year

Photo

F/A-18 Hornet, Swiss Air Force

Source: Michal Jeska

#F/A-18 Hornet #F18 #F-18 #my uploads #Swiss Air Force

27 notes · View notes

ismaeljorda · 2 years

Video

flickr

F/A-18 (2013) by Ismael Jordá Via Flickr: Axalp 2013 - www.ismaeljorda.com - Nikon D800 + 600VR @ 1/2000 f4 Iso640

#F18 #Hornet #Military #Fighter #Axalp #Swiss Air Force #Mountain #Alps #TopGun #ismaeljorda #Nikon #600VR #flickr

2 notes · View notes

divine-misfortune · 9 months

Text

Swiss had reached out and playfully ruffled his sweaty hair after Phantom pulled his helmet off. He grinned broadly as he praised him for his first ritual, and like his enthusiasm was contagious, Phantom found himself smiling, smiling stupidly at that. The little chuckle Swiss spared made something warm settle in his chest. Easily warding off the pinpricks of doubt.

When he withdrew to continue on backstage, Phantom physically sagged. He almost reached out to grab Swiss by the wrist. But he didn't. He had enough self control to keep his hand at his side, even if his fingers still twitched with a pitiful need. Despite that restraint, Swiss still noticed the poor bug's face fall when he moved on from him, the flicker of disappointment from the corner of his eye was almost missable.

And later on the bus when the buzz of adrenaline in the air had seemingly died down as most of the other ghouls had either slipped off to bed or were forcibly dragged into a bunk for, as Mountain called it, mandatory cuddle time, Phantom couldn't even think of sleeping.

The quintessence ghoul was wired. He'd barely forced himself to stop pacing the length of the bus, brain far too busy for rest. Without the distraction of the others, Phantom was left in a weirdly sharp silence. There was too much room for him to think, and nothing coming to mind was remotely pleasant.

Mistakes, too many of them to be acceptable. All of his sharp notes and missed cues were digging away at him, leaving a gaping pit in his gut. He'd been warned that there were big shoes to fill, but it felt like he'd hardly even stepped into them. Disappointment itched under his skin and he busied his hands repeatedly combing through the ends of his hair in an attempt to self soothe. It barely did the job but it was something to focus on.

Padding up and down the narrow aisle between the bunks eventually earned him the attention of a very groggy multi ghoul. The thin, and honestly sorry excuse of a privacy curtain was tugged back and Swiss' head poked out. He looked just as tired as Phantom felt.

"Hey," Swiss whispered as he propped himself up on his elbow, head lolling heavily towards his pillow like he just might sink back into it at any second "Surprised you aren't sleeping, Rora straight up passed out the second we got on the bus."

"...Can't sleep." Phantom shrugged and twisted a loose strand of white hair around his index finger, "sorry if I woke you."

"Hadn't nodded off just yet..." Judging from the lazy way he blinked, he was lying. "You okay?"

Phantom opened his mouth but felt his throat unwillingly tighten before any sound could get out.

I fucked it up. I ruined the first fucking song. Copia hasn't said a word to me since before we got on stage.

He didn't trust himself to speak like this. Not while his brain felt like tearing itself apart. He bit the inside of his cheek and shrugged again, a feeble smile forced onto his face. It surely didn't meet his eyes.

Swiss frowned.

"Wanna talk about it?" He shook his head abruptly and Swiss's brow furrowed for a moment in thought before patting the edge of the bed. "Okay, we don't need to talk then, c'mere."

Phantom paused fully, even the restless way he combed through his hair stilled. He tipped his head.

"Trust me?"

For a moment Phantom rocked back on his heels. He could very well shake his head again and slink back to his own bunk. Curl up against the wall and keep his problems to himself. There were a dozen or so more rituals to get through, he couldn't just go crawling back to his pack mates like some sad kit every time he made a mistake. He needed to learn to live with it.

But Swiss looked at him kindly. He waited patiently in the silence that Phantom was allowing to drag on. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took a step forward and felt a faint heat in his cheeks when that same grin made a reappearance. More lopsided this time, but it held the same sort of warmth to it.

It was an awkward fit, getting them both in such a narrow space when Swiss was bigger and broader than Phantom in most senses, but Swiss dutifully pressed his back to the wall and allowed him the space to get comfortable. They'd never been close like this as far as Phantom could recall, and he hoped Swiss couldn't hear the way his pulse rattled in his rib cage. Even in the dark, he could see the fine details of the older ghoul's face. Most notably, the way decades of joy had etched soft lines around his eyes and mouth. Part of him wanted to reach out, touch them delicately, and hope for the same in time. He chose to keep his hands clutched to his chest instead.

Phantom inhaled shakily as he settled under the blankets and tried not to pay much attention to the sweet musky smell that washed over him. Gentle waves of something oddly comforting pulling the tension from his shoulders.

"Hi," Swiss hummed. He seemed pleased with himself, watching the quintessence ghoul through heavily lidded eyes.

"...Thought we didn't have to talk."

The multi ghoul chuckled under his breath with a nod, "I did, didn't I? One more question and no more words, deal?"

"I guess."

"Is it okay if I touch you?"

Phantom felt his stomach flip in the hollow space it seemed to exist in. There was a sudden spike in his gut, not exactly anxiety but close enough to panic for him to notice. He fidgeted with the collar of his shirt.

"Y...Yeah."

Uncertainty left a sour taste in his mouth, but the quintessence ghoul held his breath and waited. Waited for the wandering hand that was inevitably find its way past the elastic of his boxers and to where he was most vulnerable. Would that make him feel better? To let Swiss guide him towards exhaustion with a loose fist and a certain brand of filth he wasn't accustomed to? The idea did nothing to ease a swelling anxiety but Phantom was certain Swiss knew best. At least knew better than him, and he trusted the older ghoul to care for him in his stint of weakness.

In all the months Phantom had been topside, this was the first true unguarded moment he'd allowed himself in front of another ghoul. It felt like showing his belly, an uncomfortable display of submission and weakness. He couldn't keep Swiss' overly warm gaze when he slipped an arm over his waist. Large hand laid flat on the space between his shoulder blades, an almost laughable reminder of how small he was - how small he felt. What little space had been between them was closed, and suddenly Swiss was encompassing him fully. There was nothing to focus on besides Swiss. Heat pulsed in his cheeks and he opted to hide behind his eyelids.

Phantom wasn't sure what was coming. His skin prickled underneath Swiss' touch as it drifted. Even through a barrier of fabric the sensation was too vivid. Surely Swiss could feel his muscles going tought.

But Swiss didn't mention it, and his hand found a home in the little ghoul's dark hair. Unglamored claws grazed the nape of his neck before scratching lightly at the base of his skull. He braced himself for the mean grip that he'd been told Swiss liked to take but that firm hand never came.

There was something cautious in the way Swiss held him, like he was fragile. Valued, even.

He kissed the space between his horns, and Phantom realized he was shaking. Kindness was not a foreign concept to the little ghoul. It still somehow took him by surprise. Such a slow and careful display of affection. How was he supposed to react? All he could think to do was clutch onto Swiss' shirt like a lifeline.

"Oh bug..." The multi ghoul was frowning. He could hear the sad cadence in his voice. "I've got you, you're okay..."

It was like he'd given Phantom the permission to break because it hit him like a train. A sob tore out of his throat, eager to escape the confines of his vessel. Swiss only shifted closer and allowed him to bury his face into his chest.

"I can't do this-" Phantom hiccuped through his tears and Swiss gently carded his fingers further into his hair. "I can't, I can't, I'm not meant for this. I fucked up, I'm gonna keep fucking up."

"Hey, hey," Swiss squeezed him lightly. "These things aren't meant to be perfect. Nobody expects them to be."

"I ruined it from the first note, and it only got worse from there..."

"We've all made mistakes, I mean...Hell, I sang the chorus during an instrumental section during one of my first shows. And Dew? Dew once fucked up the start of ritual so bad Copia literally mocked him on stage. Little guy was damn near ready to spike his guitar into the ground."

Phantom only attempted to hide further.

"...You know why Rain's name is Rain?"

"No?"

"Because he slipped during his first show, and rain falls down."

He couldn't help the way his quiet laugh made his shoulders shake. Swiss kissed the top of his head this time.

"I'm sure Dew's shown you the video of me falling off my platform at least a dozen times by now."

"...Once or twice."

"See? Mistakes happen. It's your first time, little shadow, you did amazing...We're so proud of you."

Phantom sniffled. His eyes stung and his throat felt tight. Swiss continued the comforting and repetitive drag of his nails over his scalp, a low rumble kicking up in his chest. The quintessence ghoul felt himself truly melting into him.

"You okay?" Swiss asked and rubbed little circles into his back.

"...Tired."

"You wanna go to sleep?"

"Mhm...Can I, um, stay here?"

"Course you can, whatever you want."

Phantom breathed in shakily, peeling himself off of the multi ghoul long enough for him to wipe his eyes. Swiss still looked down at him fondly. Exhaustion present on his face, but fond nonetheless.

"Thank you," he mumbled and allowed Swiss to pull him back in with a tuneless hum. He was just as tired, and Phantom easily slotted himself back into the other ghoul. Wrapped up in his arms, legs tangled together, Phantom could finally let himself rest.

#writing #void writing #phantom ghoul #Swiss ghoul #multi ghoul #nameless ghouls #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost the band #phantom/swiss #swiss/phantom

470 notes · View notes

ghostchems · 2 months

Note

giving terzo a “hand” 👀

a/n: so this ended up being 1k words haha def had a fun time writing this one!. mndi! 18! it's a good ol' fashioned handjob, fellas.

The meeting has gone over and you’re desperately itching to do something other than review the budget for the upcoming tour leg. There’s a tasty swiss roll, a reward, sitting in your fridge waiting for you to gobble it up. Your knee starts to bounce beneath the table and you’re doodling in your notes, your attention far away from the conversation at hand. Something pokes into your leg, a feather light nip, so you don’t think anything of it. Maybe you bumped something. But it persists, digging further into your tights. Your gaze snaps to the man next to you — the only clergy member you know has pointy gloves. Terzo is grinning from ear to ear, his other hand propping his head up beneath his chin and his eyes half-lidded, sleepy. You shoot him daggers, a warning shot.

He completely ignores it, widening his eyes suggestively as he drags the tip of his golden nail up your stockings, the fabric tearing in a neat line up to the hem of your habit. What a brat. You squint at him, your lips pressed into a thin line to try and hide your frustration. Cooler heads always prevail, which may just be Terzo’s motto. The tips of his nails linger on your soft skin and he tilts his head ever so slightly on his hand, challenging you. What could you do? You can’t interrupt the meeting to tell everyone what he’s done. You don’t tattle, plus that would be too easy a way out of the situation he’s put you in. The chair creaks as you sit back, plotting your next move. It would have to be something just as discrete, wouldn’t it?

You rest your hand in his lap beneath the table and shy your gaze away from him. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, dropping his hand from his head and moving to grip the table. You feel him stir beneath his chasuble and you’re surprised that he hasn’t grabbed you by the wrist and put a stop to this… so you keep going, your fingers brushing along his growing length. Terzo sucks in a breath and delicately falls back in his chair, spreading his legs further. You chew on your lip, eyes feigning interest in the continued conversation on the pros of increasing the snack budget. He’s fully hard now and you give him a squeeze, causing his nails to scrape along the tabletop. You still can’t look at him, afraid that his knowing gaze will cause your undoing, your grip tightening on his cock as you give him long, languid strokes.

“ENOUGH of this!” Terzo’s voice suddenly explodes from beside you, his fist landing hard against the table. You jump in your seat and your immediate reaction is to wrench your hand away from him but his free hand quickly has you by the wrist, forcing you to stay put against his strained cock. A hush falls over the room, thick tension in the air. “You are supposed to have made the decisions prior to the meeting and now you are wasting everyone’s time, yes?” The thrill you feel as all of these attendees sit in fear of the man you’re pleasuring beneath the table is indescribable. “Va a fartate fottere!” With an angry wave of his hand, everyone stands to exit, including yourself but he immediately coaxes you back into your seat and you can tell he’s pleased with how you’ve played your part.

Soon, the two of you are alone and he claws at you, desperately needing you closer. You squeeze his length again and he hisses, baring sharp teeth as his hips buck against your hand. Terzo has you nearly on the arm of his chair, having one of his arms slipped around your waist while his other hand starts to work up his chasuble.

“No. No.” You press your hand down firmly in his lap and he groans, letting it fall and slinking back next to you.

“Bossy today, eh?” Terzo purrs and tilts his head up to look at you, his lips wet and parted with soft sounds spilling from them. You peer down at him and you can’t help but blush at the look on his face and the dark fire that burns in his eyes. Warmth blossoms in your core and you cup him through his chasuble, drawing a deep groan from him. He drags his fingers through his hair, back arching and hips rolling into your touch.

“You love it.” You whisper as you lean down to brush your lips along the bridge of his nose. “Besides, I’m allowed to be bossy after you ruined my tights.” Your mouth hovers above his. Terzo whines, desperate for your lips to connect but you keep yours just far enough away, out of his reach. You adjust your grip on him, his cock fully tented in his chasuble. Your strokes become stronger, confident, the fabric around him providing more friction with each fluid movement. His legs tense and feverish groans pour from his throat, intoxicated by your touch and craving more and more of you. Your touch is firm, greedy even, wanting nothing more than to take him all the way to the precipice as you rub your own thighs together, wetness growing between your legs.

Terzo’s hand snatches the collar of your habit, yanking you down so that he can finally capture your lips. You swallow his urgent moans, his tongue hot in your mouth as you settle your body against his, practically in his lap now straddling his waist and adding another hand to worship his throbbing cock. His body jerks beneath you, giving a rumbling groan against your lips, his nails digging into the fabric of your habit and poking through to scrape at the skin along your chest. Your own hips grind into him once, moving in time with one final stroke as he gives a blistering growl, spilling his seed into his chasuble. Sitting front row for his undoing is enchanting, seeing Papa come apart all from you touching him through his robes is exhilarating. Terzo slumps against you, his head falling into the crook of your neck, feeling the warmth of his gasps.

“I, ah, must repay you with more than just new tights.” He murmurs hotly, followed by a dark chuckle.

You certainly have something in mind.

send me a drabble request here!

#papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo x reader #terzo #papa emeritus iii #terzo request #drabble request

154 notes · View notes

opelman · 3 months

Video

flickr

T-316 / 2334 - Aérospatiale (Airbus Helicopters) AS 332 M1 Super Puma by Laurent Quérité Via Flickr: Meeting Aérien Airshow Super Puma Display Team Swiss Air Force AIR14 Payerne (LSMP) Suisse IMG_0338

1 note · View note

molly-ghuleh · 10 months

Text

Honeysuckle - Mountain x gn!reader

Mountain's rut is coming up soon, and the only thing he can think about is you.

~*~

Contains: smut, MDNI!! ghoul heat cycles, masturbation, breeding, oral (both receiving), penetration, knotting, soft Mountain uwu, pining

Notes: Reader is intended to be gender neutral, so I tried to use non-specific anatomy as best I could. Enjoy!~ AO3 link

It’s hot. Too hot, and Mountain can’t sleep. He always gets like this just before his rut–as if his body is saying, in case you didn’t have the whole week blocked off on the calendar already, it’s happening soon–and more often than not, he ends up jerking himself off anyway.

Dew and Swiss call it his ‘pre-rut nut’.

He feels all the aspects of a rut. His body burns, his dick is sore, and his tail whips around faster than usual, but he doesn’t have that animalistic urge to breed anything that walks yet.

Yet.

Hence, pre-rut nut.

Mountain sighs and throws the thin blanket off his body. The cool air from the window flows over his bare chest, raising goosebumps in its wake. His nipples pebble slightly at the sensation and he shudders. He can live with hard nipples.

His aching cock, though, is a different story.

When he’s this close to his rut, he has to jerk off every night. During the day he can assuage his urges, distracted by his duties. But at night when he has nothing else to do, the full force of his unholy urges hit him like a tidal wave, a near-orgasm in and of itself. In the days before his rut he edges himself all day without even realizing it. Usually it’s his pants constricting around his crotch just right, or he sees a perfect ass filling out a pair of pants that makes his dick twitch, but lately… Lately, the only thoughts making his dick twitch have been of you.

Oh, Lucifer, he’d made his way down to the gardens this morning and had been greeted with an eyeful of your ass as you bent down. The sight nearly made him trip over his own tail. He just wanted to grab your hips and–

His cock jumps in his boxers and he groans. He slips his legs out of the material but keeps them close, so he can clean himself up after he blows his load to the thought of you.

Mountain knows it’s wrong of him to think of you this way, but sweet Satan, he can’t help it. Not when your scent is the most tantalizing thing he’s ever smelled. Whenever he’s around you, your essence wraps around him and inside him, tugging at his heart as if you know it beats only for you. Just the smell of you, so strong and enticing beneath your perfume, is enough to bring him to his knees, and it has. The first time he’d smelled your scent after a day working in the gardens together, he’d pinned one of his pillows between his knees and rutted down into it like a rabid dog.

He briefly considers doing that now, but he decides against it. He’d ruined his pillow so thoroughly that he had to throw it out.

Mountain wants to ruin you instead.

He brushes his hand down his neck, over his collarbone, and down to circle one of his sensitive nipples. Oh, he just knows you’d treat him so well. Your hands, so small and soft compared to his, would explore every inch of his skin as you exposed it. Your hands would accidentally brush his nipples as you unbuttoned his shirt, but when you heard how his breath hitches at the touch, you’d do it on purpose. Maybe you’d even tilt your head down to take one of them into your pink lips and pull just to see how he’d react. Ah, the sweet little sound you’d make when Mountain’s hips grind up into yours…

Mountain palms his length, only applying a light pressure. No fingers yet, no–in his mind you’re still wearing clothes. He can’t slide himself inside you before he’s made you cum at least once. He knows his size is daunting. He’s been humbled in the past by potential partners who’d gotten one look at his hard cock and fled for the hills. But you would see it as a challenge. He can practically hear you purring into his ear, Come on Mounty, how many inches do you think I can take before I beg you to stop?

Mounty, Mounty, Mounty…

You’re the only one who calls him Mounty. Satan, it makes his knees weak. He wants to know how it sounds in his ear, against his neck, in his mouth. He wants to know how it sounds muffled around his cock. He wants to know how it sounds when he drags it out of you, the last syllable spilling from your lips in a pathetic little whine. He just knows you’d take him so well, all the way to the hilt, and past it when he’d knot you– That thought makes a low growl erupt from his chest. He finally, finally takes himself into his hand, giving himself a few slow, firm strokes. He can’t decide if he wants to imagine it’s your own hand, your lips, or your dripping hole wrapped around him, but his mind lands on your mouth. You’d insist on trying to take him as far as you can down your throat. That’s another challenge you’d pose–how long you can keep him in your mouth until your jaw starts to ache. If you can even fit him.

But Mountain would only let you touch him after he gives you pleasure first. He wonders how you would taste at the first lick. A little salty, maybe? After your first orgasm, you’d be sweeter, slicker, and because he knows you would be so good for him he’d give you another one. He’d make you scream for him, beg him with incoherent little pleas of your nickname for him. Oh, he can almost hear you in his mind. Oh sweet Satan, Mounty, please…

Only then would he let you test your little theory. Such a sweet thing for him, crying and drooling around his thick cock and telling him you can take more.

Mountain grips at the sheets underneath his naked body as his hand slides languidly up and down. He knows he needs sleep, but the visions of you are too delicious to rush. No, you deserve to be revered. Worshiped like the unholy being you are. He prays to you, kneels at your altar, communes with your divinity through his lascivious fantasies of your body under his. He wants to make love to you. He wants to take you so, so slowly at first, stretching your muscles around his dick when he enters you for the first time. He wants you to feel every thick, prodding inch of him inside you. He wants to watch your body arch under him when his tip drags against the spot on your inner walls that will, eventually, make you scream his name. He wants to swallow your moans and whines of discomfort with his lips and shush you and tell you that it’s alright, the stinging stretch will go away in a few seconds. He wants to lean down to your ear and whisper that he loves you, and he wants you to say it back.

Lucifer, he hasn’t even kissed you yet.

Mountain would wait until you say you’re ready for him to move, and then he’d pull out nearly all the way just to angle his hips upward and push back in. He imagines the way you’d gasp in surprise that the uncomfortable stretch has turned into pleasure. You’d wrap your arms around him, tugging at the hair on the base of his skull the way you know he likes. Your fingers would brush against the base of his horns by accident. He’d shudder at the contact, rutting his hips into you harder than he meant to, and then you’d do it again on purpose.

His free hand absently raises to his head to touch his horns the way he imagines you would. The hand wrapped around his leaking cock begins to stroke faster, harder. “Oh f-fuck, petal, that’s so good…”

His own words echoing in his room make him blush. Mountain knows you like it when he calls you petal. You haven’t explicitly told him so, but he notices the way your eyelids flutter and your mouth quirks up whenever he says it. Once, he’d groaned with soreness from kneeling in the gardens all day and said, you’re killing me, petal. It had sounded more lewd than he’d meant. He had to pretend that he couldn’t smell your arousal suddenly flaring up in you after he’d said it, but oh, you smelled delicious then. He’d had to excuse himself for a few minutes just to rub one out to your lingering scent before he came in his pants.

Mountain knows you like him, too. Your scent has started to change over the last few months, after you’d started working in the garden with him. You smell sweeter now. Sweeter means your heart pounds a little faster, a little harder whenever you see him.

The endorphins your body releases at the sight of him make you smell like honeysuckle.

He grips the base of his horn tighter and pulls. He can picture you riding him like your life depends on it, holding onto his horns for stability and because you’d know he likes that. Your lovely hips would feel so plush and warm in hands when he digs his fingers in to drag you up and down his length. You wouldn’t have to do the work, no... Mountain would take care of you. He’s the biggest, strongest ghoul, but also the most gentle. He’d lift you like you weighed nothing and guide you back down onto his cock without you having to put an ounce of effort in. He’d treat you so well, petal. So well.

He fists his cock faster now. He can tell he’s going to cum soon, but fuck, he doesn’t want it to be over so soon. Not when his mind is conjuring such sweet pictures of you.

The ghoul wonders how you’d sound when you get close. Are you loud? Would you get louder? Would you start to beg him to make you cum, or would you go silent? Would you whine out his name for him? His full name or the nickname you gave him? Could you cum from just his cock, or do you need him to help you? Do you need his hands? Oh, sweet thing, you can have his hands.

He meant to tell you. He wanted to tell you how he feels about you, and then show you, and show you again. But he wants your first time together to be slow, passionate. He wants the only thing on his mind to be you. When he’s in his rut, he can only focus on his primal need to breed, and he doesn’t want that for you. Not yet. Would you like it, though? Mountain imagines what you would sound like begging him to breed you and his knot begins to swell at the base of his dick. He wants to explode inside of you, over and over, until your belly is swollen with his seed. One of his loads will take, right? It must, after he’s fucked his cum into you more times than you can count. His thick knot will keep it inside you until it takes.

Pre-rut nut, his ass.

Mountain moans your name like a prayer. He’s sure the other ghouls can hear him call out for you, but he doesn’t care. “Yes, petal, take my knot. I—fuck—I know you can take it all, sweet thing. You’re so good for me, taking my knot so well—”

He imagines you crying out for him, cumming on his cock so hard like he knows you can. He’s not finished yet. Not yet. Just a little longer, please—

You would bring his head down to yours and kiss him so tenderly while he thrusts into you like a man dying. You’d whisper in his ear that he feels so good, fucks you so well, and that you want him to cum inside you. Inside, Mounty, you’d plead, gasping and moaning from his cock still dragging over your walls. He obliges.

Mountain cums with a loud groan. His hips buck up into his hand and spurts of his viable seed—wasted when it’s not buried deep inside you—land on his stomach and chest. The shocks of pleasure roll through his limbs, making his toes curl and his back arch off the mattress. He wishes he had your body to hold onto when he cums. You would anchor him to the world, even though you were the one to send him to space with pleasure in the first place. Briefly, Mountain squeezes his knot with his hand to imagine what it would feel like stuck inside you, but it’s bittersweet. The rest of his dick is exposed to the cool air of his room. No, it wouldn’t feel like this. You’d hold him inside like a warm, soft cocoon.

He opens his eyes and the illusion fades. He’s alone in the ghoul dens without you, with drying jizz on his stomach and a rut that came two days early.

He wants to hold you.

He wants you close to him, to soothe his aching muscles in between the long periods of fucking you. He wants to massage you too, because he knows he’s big and you’ll be sore for days after his rut ends. Next year, he thinks ruefully. Next cycle, after he properly confesses to you, and then properly makes love to you, many times. He wants to make sure you know he adores you before fucking you like some feral beast.

Mountain sighs and cleans himself up with his discarded boxers. He doesn’t bother putting another pair on.

#mountain ghoul #mountain x reader #mountain x gn!reader #ghost fanfic #ghost band fic #ghost x reader fic #nameless ghoul x reader

456 notes · View notes

ladylooch · 7 months

Note

(Ik your requests are closed so pls don’t feel super pressured to write but you write Nico perfect everytime so I choose you :3)

So we all know neeks isn’t into anything super hardcore or kinky when it comes to sex. But when he’s particularly frustrated with hockey or the media he can get a bit rough, needing to take his emotions out on something. (Here’s the angsty part? Idk if this even counts as angst but) maybe one night after a rough game you’re kind of just letting him use you as he needs, but he kinda ‘blacks out’ for a sec and gets a little too rough with you. Nothing super dramatic but you have to say something about it and he’s instantly reeling himself back in and profusely apologizing and completely shifting focus to make it up to you. Poor baby is in near tears over hurting his girl.

His Superstar- Nico Hischier

A/N: I just love the way I was selected for this blurb. Hahahah! I love you anon 🤭 fluff my feathers, bby. You know it works. Also, you know I have to be big sis here and address this theme: communicate with your partners. Keep it safe and respect boundaries.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Content, sexual boundaries talk

If one more reporter asks Nico if he’s frustrated with his lack of scoring so far this season, he might have to show that reporter just how frustrated he actually is by popping them in the face.

Day after day, he stands up there in front of their cameras and microphones, answering questions he really doesn’t want to.

It never gets easier. The vets told him it would in this first season as captain. It doesn’t. He still has to resist hulking out at some of the dumbass questions and comments he gets in his media scrums.

But when he gets home to you, none of that matters. He falls into your world where he isn’t an NHL captain. He isn’t a multimillionaire who is underperforming. He isn’t an international superstar.

He’s only yours. Y/N’s Nico.

You, his sweet girlfriend, were waiting for him in the kitchen with fudge brownies using the chocolate his mom sent from Switzerland. He knew exactly what he wanted from you when he saw you in those tiny, red shorts you know drive him nuts.

And it wasn’t food.

You were unsuspecting, chewing on your bottom lip at the outward frustration you saw gathering in Nico’s eyebrows on social media that morning. He was at the rink longer- getting treatment. But the wildness in his eyes when he walked in did not prepare you for the position you were currently in.

Nico slams into you deeply again. It feels incredible. You moan out your approval to him again. He has you on the kitchen table so he can use his thick thighs to pound at full throttle. Nico rarely gets like this and the excitement of it all has your nipples piercing the air, meeting his groans. His hands come up, groping your breasts as he leans over you more. He is so far gone, whispering in Swiss German, losing control of himself completely as he pushes harder into you. The table moves slightly. You reach out for his arm for safety, holding and rubbing at him while moaning his name.

Nico grabs both of your arms, pinning you down with his palms on both your forearms. You are so close to reaching your climax. You open your legs wider, taking him deeper. Your breathing stutters and you move to pull your arms from his grip to hold his shoulders for security. Nico forces his fingers deeper into you. You’re eyes snap open in unease. You try again. Now his grip is uncomfortable.

“Nico let go.” You stutter abruptly, feeling panic close your throat. It takes him a moment to hear your words. His head is knocked back as he begins to dribble into you. The reaction of his impending orgasm has him tightening further. “Nico! Stop!” You yell suddenly. Nico snaps to immediately, releasing your arms. You push at his abdomen until he falls out of you.

“What!? What happened!?” You are still splayed beneath him, completely exposed. You suck in a shaky breath, trying to ground yourself. You can tell he didn’t mean to, but you suddenly feel very naked and uncomfortable. Nico can see that. He grabs his jacket on the chair to his right, draping it over you. His expression is worried. He tentatively reaches out for your hand. You lace your fingers together. “Did you say something and I missed it?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry. Oh my god. Baby, what did you say? I didn’t hear. I’m so sorry. I’m so…” He trails off, dashing a hand through his hair. He looks around the table frantically, trying to find the pants you both dropped on the floor in haste.

“Nico.” You call, reaching for him to come back to you. He is berating himself internally. You can see it with every twitch of his facial features. His shoulders are slumping inward as he leans over you, reaching out for your cheek then recoiling his fingers. You grab his hand, placing it there and leaning into his touch. “Can you please calm down so we can talk about it?”

“I hurt you!”

“No you didn’t.”

“I crossed a line!”

“Yes, but unintentionally.” You sit up, very aware of your naked core settling against the kitchen table. You open your arms and Nico steps in. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, his jacket still covering most of your naked body. You turn so you can brush comforting kisses along his stubbled jaw. “I asked for you to let go of my arms.” Nico shakes his head.

“I didn’t hear.”

“I know.” You murmur, “That’s why I yelled.” He nods.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I am okay. And I want to finish, but can we not do it this way anymore?”

“Of course.” He nods. He pulls away to look at your face. “I’m so sorry. I did not hear you. I would never keep doing something you weren’t comfortable with.”

“I know, Neeks. Now let me finish you off on the couch.” You smile, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He lifts you up, walking to the leather couch. He chuckles as you shiver when your back hits it, like always. The air of safety returns as you straddle his lap, sliding down until he’s fully sheathed inside of you. He grips your hips tenderly, creating a line for you to buck yourself into.

When he came into the apartment, he wanted to take you his way. But now, watching you ride him so good, he thinks about how much better this is. You always have better ideas than him. The bed you picked. The apartment you moved into together. The bedding. This couch.

And this fucking tempo. His head falls back; his belly burns with fire. Your inner walls suck him deeper and he releases white ribbons into you.

“Baby.” He moans against your mouth as you wetly kiss him in praise. You’re not quite there yet. He sinks deeper into the couch cushions as you use him for your own pleasure. He watches with heavy and lustful eyes, biting his bottom lip when you shout his name to the ceiling. He curls forward, groaning, gripping himself into your chest as you pulse around his sensitive cock. He shivers when your nails drag along his shoulders, leaving red scratches as you bounce up and down once more.

“Oh god.” You croak out when you find your voice. “That was… Fuck.”

“You’re a superstar, baby.”

“Thought that was you?” You murmur, raking a hand through his mused, brown locks.

“No… Right now I’m only yours.”

#Nico Hischier X Reader #Nico Hischier Smut #hockey writing #NHL imagine #NHL fan fiction #my writing

383 notes · View notes