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hedgehogsaretheultimatelifeform · 3 days

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More thinking about being assimilated into the retired 141 polycule.

[part one]

Soap opens the door, dragging you out of the bedroom’s soft dimness into semi darkness. The only way you know that you’re walking down a corridor is the light at the other end, coming from down stairs. Gaz is following so closely behind that he’s nearly catching your heels, his hands hovering by your shoulders in case you stumble as Soap leads the way downstairs.

You emerge into a kitchen, filled with the sound of a kettle about to boil. Soap glances back at you, making sure you made it down behind him okay, leaving Gaz free to brush past the pair of you, to greet the man waiting in the kitchen.

‘Morning, John.’ Gaz embraces John from behind, grabbing at his loose shirt to pull it tight around his body. Soap sees you swallow as Gaz shows off the muscles in John’s back, highlighted under the taut material of his sleep shirt.

‘Mornin,’ John grumbles, in the same husky voice as before. Soap pulls you close to him, leaning your heads against each other as you both watch John turn to kiss Gaz, the pair murmuring something between them as the kettle clicks, and steam curls out of the spout.

John is the one to break away from the cuddle, leaving Gaz take over the tea as he turns to face you. ‘This our guest, then?’

‘It is.’ You nod your head, feeling Soap step back as John approaches, his feet scuffing as he drags them on the floor.

John reaches out, gently cupping your wrist before sliding his fingers down to your hand, and lifting it to his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles. ‘A pleasure to finally meet you.’

‘Come off it.’ Soap pulls your hand free, replacing it with his own as he kissed John’s cheek. ‘Why don’t you go down and let Simon in?’

‘Why don’t you?’ Price pulls Soap close and makes him kiss him properly, twisting their bodies so you can see it all, before pointing Soap in the direction of the door.

‘Don’t wanna. Wanna stay here.’ Soap pushes back, reaching towards you.

Gaz chuckles in your ear as you watch the bickering begin to unfold. ‘Come on, you don’t need to see this. Come have a seat.’

Gaz guides you with a hand on your back, steering you out of the kitchen and into the living room. He sets you down on the well loved sofa cushions, hovering over you for a second too long for you to not ask.

‘Want a kiss?’

He doesn’t reply verbally, just taking what was offered, and then another, before the third is interpreted by a smack on someone’s ass, and Soap hurrying past, covering his flushing cheeks.

‘Aww, look at him…’ Gaz chuckles, glancing back as John emerges in Soap’s wake.

‘Aren’t you meant to be making tea?’

‘It’s brewing.’ Gaz grumbles, but slips back towards the kitchen, leaving you alone with John.

‘Hey.’

‘Hi.’

‘May I?’ He gestures to the seat next to you.

‘Yeah.’

He sinks down next you you, throwing an arm on the back of the sofa, just behind your shoulders. You tilt your head back, resting it in the crook of his elbow.

He chuckles. ‘You’re something else, aren’t you?’

‘I am.’ You confirm, meeting his eyes when he turns his head to look at you.

‘You know,’ he leans in close, and lowers his voice, ‘you sounded delightful last night.’

You gasp, covering your mouth as you scramble through the blurry memories of last night trying to remember what you had done for him to overhear.

He chuckles again, brushing a finger down the side of your face, about to say something else, when Gaz sets two mugs of tea down on the coffee table.

‘Think you’re mistaken, there. That was all Soap.’ Gaz passes a third cup to you, before sitting on your other side. ‘He gets real high pitched when you fuck him right.’

‘I wasn’t talking about high pitched...’ Price grumbles, reaching down to get his own tea as Gaz opens his arms and lets you lean into them.

‘Is that true?’ You whisper.

‘What?’

‘About soap.’

‘Course it is. We can show you how, if you want.’

‘You’d do that for me?’

‘Of course, for you. And for soap, because he enjoys it like nothing else.’

‘And we like watching him get fucked.’ John chimes in, sliding his arm down to rest on your thigh, gently squeezing.

‘All of you?’

They both nod.

‘We could ask Simon to show you, when he gets up.’

‘It’s…’ you glance around, spying a clock on the wall, reading half seven. ‘Too early for that, surely.’

‘That clocks broken, love.’ John flips his phone screen to you, showing that the time is closer to ten thirty. ‘But, we can always do it later, if you prefer.’

‘If you want to stay, of course.’ Gaz supplies, behind you.

‘You’ve made me curious, of course I’m staying.’ You sip your tea, gently blowing over the rim of the cup to cool it each time.

‘Staying?’ John glances at Gaz over your shoulder. ‘For today, or…’

‘I mean… however long it’s okay for me to stay,’ you hurry out, suddenly embarrassed to have overstepped.

‘No, no, it’s fine, love.’ Gaz hushes you, slowly getting you to sit up. ‘That’s not what he meant.’

‘Oh… okay.’ You settle, glancing between the two men to see who will speak first.

‘You might have worked out that we don’t exactly have a typical relationship.’ Gaz starts.

‘Yeah, I got that.’ You nod. ‘You’re… poly?’

‘Yeah. We’re all together in a polycule.’ John nods, seeming glad that you had already figured out something along the right lines.

‘Fuck, that is not what we’re calling it. We agreed on this, Price.’

‘It’s what it is, Kyle, don’t start this again…’

‘It just sounds so formal and pretentious…’

‘Wait,’ you gasp, ‘your name is Kyle?’

‘Yeah. Something wrong with that?’

You shake your head. ‘Just never saw myself living with a Kyle.’

‘So you’re in?’ John leans towards you.

‘If you’ll have me.’

‘Course we’ll fucking have you…’ Gaz kisses you, as John snags your tea away to our on the table before it gets spilled. Just in time, as Gaz shoved you back into Price’s lap, your arms thrown over his shoulders as you realise Gaz isn’t going to let you breathe, until John pulls him away, letting your head fall back on his chest as he pulls Gaz up for himself, cradling his face between his hands as he takes kiss after kiss after kiss from Gaz, before they lean down and take kiss after kiss from you, before the door bangs open.

‘We’re back!’ Soap hurries into the room, stopping short when he sees what’s going on. ‘Fuck, Si we interrupted them!’ He calls over his shoulder, before coming over for a kiss of his own, as the as of yet unseen Simon enters the room.

‘I have hunted and gathered.’ Simon holds up a plastic bag, the smell of bacon and chips slowly filling the room.

‘Oh get in.’ Gaz fist pumps the air, pulling you up as Simon comes closer to the couch.

‘Hi.’ He holds is hand out to you.

‘Hi. Nice to meet you.’ You shake hands.

‘It is.’ He smiles, eyes crinkling above the black surgical mask he’s wearing.

‘Come on, Si, I’ll give you a hand.’ John stands up from the sofa, taking Simon into the kitchen, as Soap eagerly takes his place.

‘So, what’s the word?’ He looks expectantly at Gaz.

‘You’re in, aren’t you, love?’ Gaz looks at you, and you suddenly wonder if Soap’s departure was a set up for Gaz and Price to give you that invitation.

‘Yeah. I’m in.’ You nod. Who gives a fuck if it was a set up. You’re in now, and you’re not leaving any time soon.

‘Fuckin beautiful.’ Soap presses a kiss to your shoulder. ‘Knew you would be.’

‘You did?’

‘Course I did. Just sauntered up, bought both of us a drink like it was nothing.’

‘You can’t call tequila love at first sight, Soap.’

‘You’re calling rum love at first sight, what’s the difference?’ Soap snipes back at Gaz over your head, and you break out laughing.

‘If I’d known it was going to lead me here, I would have sat on your dicks right there at the bar.’

‘What at the same time?’ Gaz mocks shock, before pulling you close, burying his face in your shoulder as he squeezes you tight. ‘Fuck I’m glad we met.’

‘Me too.’ Soap wrapped his arms around you too, sighing happily as you sank into them.

‘Oi, love birds. Food’s here.’ Simon breaks you up, setting sauces down on the table as he doles out the sandwiches. ‘Bacon, chips, chips, bacon for price when he’s done wanking in the kitchen, and bacon for me.’

‘You want me to spit in your tea, Simon?’ John calls out from the kitchen.

‘Don’t ask that, you might be surprised.’ Simon returns, before you all open your sandwiches and tuck in.

It’s quiet as you eat. Gaz and Soap on either side of you, Simon only looking away from you when John returns from the kitchen with his tea. Simon lets John sit next to him, the pair leaning on each other as they put away a bacon butty.

John does so quicker than anyone else, so as soon as Gaz and Soap are both left licking sauces from their fingers, he’s standing up. ‘Come on, you two. We’ve got to get a start on cleaning up.’

They grumble but go with him, taking paper wrappers and empty cups with them. You suspect that cleaning didn’t need three people, rather this was an excuse for you to be alone with Simon.

He leans forward, grinning lazily at you, the full expression visible now that he’d ditched the mask. ‘John told me that you’re in.’

‘John told me that you’d fuck soap and let me watch.’ The words spill out of your mouth before you’ve really thought about them, but it makes him smile more.

‘Did he?’

‘Yes, he did.’

‘And do you want me to do that?’

‘Yes. Very much yes.’

He sits back, spreading his legs wide. ‘Then you ditch those borrowed clothes, get on my lap, and earn it.’

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artdcnaldson · 22 hours

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smutty patrick +art +reader request!!!! ->

smut where both patrick &y/n r dominant and are constantly competing against eachother with who makes art cum faster/moan louder LOL☺️☺️☺️ patrick is like a rougher dom and reader is softer and she keeps praising art while patrick IS SUCH A MEANIEEEEE but he also loves art too obv(and reader). UGH i love them

HEHEHEHE <3

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT!! Threesome ft. Dom!Patrick, Soft!Dom Reader, Sub!Art, handjob, blowjob, ruined orgasm

A/N: god tier request, truly. something possessed me when I wrote this

Art Donaldson had never looked prettier than he did in that moment. The thin sheen of sweat that made his skin glisten, the pretty flush that burned pink down to his chest.

His back was pressed to your chest, your arms wrapped around him soothingly. It was the perfect angle to watch all the ways Patrick was torturing your sweet boy.

His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath— each exhale shuddery and rough. You pet his hair, brushing soft curls out of his eyes.

“How are you, baby?” You asked softly, teasingly. “Is Patrick being too mean?”

He shook his head, the muscles of his abdomen flexing as Patrick’s hand moved faster and faster. A strangled moan slipped past his lips, eyes squeezing shut as Patrick brought him closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m just doing what he asked,” Patrick said with a grin. The sounds of his hand was slick as it moved up and down on the blond’s cock.. “He wanted me to touch him, and I’m touching him.”

You pressed a soothing kiss to his jaw and grinned down at Patrick. The brunet was a co-conspirator in the agonizing, delicious torture you put Art’s poor body through. You were just nicer about it.

“Close,” Art whimpered, his lips spit slick and bitten pink. “I— fuck— I’m close”

Patrick smirked like the cat who got the cream, but you just ran a soothing hand over the plane of his chest, teasing his nipples, making him whine pitifully.

“Yeah, baby? You’re close, huh?” Your teeth tugged slightly at his earlobe and he moaned, loud and pretty. “Be polite and ask Patrick if you can cum.”

Patrick’s hand didn’t let up— slick and relentless. He raised an eyebrow expectantly and Art nearly sobbed.

“Please—“ was all Art could manage.

“Please, what, Donaldson? You’re a big boy, you know how to ask the right way.”

He groaned, shifting so he could squirm away from Patrick’s relentless touch. It was futile, though. Art was strong, but with your legs pinning his thighs and Patrick’s hand slung across the blond’s torso, all he could do was take it.

“Lemme cum— please let me cum,” he was practically begging, eyes shining with crocodile tears. It was so fucking cute. You wished your camera was nearby so you could’ve snapped a picture of how desperate he’d gotten.

Patrick met your gaze and smiled, like he’d just gotten the best fucking idea in the world. “Okay, baby,” he said in an unusually gentle voice. “You can cum.”

You could feel Art’s heart hammering against your palm, the surprise evident in his eyes.

“Hurry before Pat changes his mind, yeah?” You cooed in his ear. He nodded, face scrunched slightly as Patrick brought him closer and closer to finishing.

And god, Art could get loud. He had his tells here, just like in tennis. As soon as he went silent, you knew he was right on the precipice, ready to tumble over.

The second Art’s orgasm hit, Patrick moved his hand off of him completely. It was different than it usually was— Art was always messy. He’d shoot ropes of thick cum up to his chest, or his face if he was particularly backed up.

But then, he just whimpered pathetically as cum oozed out of his tip, leaving a puddle at the base of his cock. And— holy fuck— he stayed hard.

Art practically sobbed, his head lolling back against your shoulder. Tears of frustration welled in his pretty blue eyes. “What the fuck, Patrick?” He groaned pathetically.

“What the fuck did you do?” You asked with wide eyes.

Patrick sat back and shrugged, wearing a shit-eating grin. “I saw someone do it in a porn. He got to cum, he just didn’t get the good part.”

“Switch spots,” you said quickly. Patrick let you settle between Art’s thighs, eye level with his aching cock. It was red at the tip, aching for a real release.

When you wrapped a hand around him, he whimpered and squirmed in an attempt to escape the stimulation.

“You good, baby?” You asked, pressing your lips to his thigh.

Before Art could respond, Patrick sighed. “Stop babying him— he’s fine.”

You met Art’s gaze, and he gave a tiny nod. His chest was heaving as he drew breath after shaky breath.

The mess of cum surrounding his base made each slick pass of your hand sound pornographic. Almost as debauched as the whimpers and moans that were escaping Art’s lips.

“Mmm… fuck, fuck— ah!” Like a goddamn pornstar.

“Shhh… let me clean up the mess Patrick made, yeah?”

You pressed a soft kiss to his tip, and his thighs twitched with the need to buck into the warmth of your lips. Your mouth trailed down, peppering the hard length of him with wet, slow kisses. You could taste his release, salty on your tongue.

“Jesus, baby— please—“ Art, desperate and wanting, was your favorite thing in the world. Besides maybe Patrick, desperate and wanting in a completely opposite way.

“Quit whining, Art, or she’s gonna stop.” Patrick murmured in the blond’s ear. You could already see a collection of red spots on Art’s throat that would turn into bruises.

You definitely weren’t going to stop. You loved every single depraved noise you could wring out of him. You took mercy on him, easing his sensitive cock into the wet warmth of your mouth.

You’re too soft on him. He likes when you make him work for it. You could hear Patrick’s complaints already.

It didn’t matter. You liked taking care of your boy.

He pulsed against your tongue as you took him deeper, his thighs tensing where your hands rested against him. He bucked slightly, brushing the back of your throat. When you gagged around him, he made the same whimpery noise that he made on the tennis courts.

“Tell her thank you,” Patrick said in Art’s ear.

You moaned softly around Art’s length as you felt Patrick’s fingers grip onto your hair, guiding your mouth up and down, faster and faster.

“Art, I’ll make her stop. Say thank you.” Patrick’s voice was firm, no trace of any sympathy. The same way he’d bark corrections that Art needed to make when they practiced together.

“Thank you,“ Art gasped out, like it took all the effort in the world. Patrick used his free hand to rake his nails over Art’s abs, and the blond cried out and bucked into your throat. “Fuck—“

You knew he was close to finishing— still so pent up from the orgasm that Patrick had ruined for him. So sensitive that it wouldn’t take much more effort to have him spilling onto your tongue.

You pulled off slowly, jerking him off with slow, firm strokes. “You wanna cum, baby?” You asked, lips just brushing the sensitive head of his cock.

“Yes! God, need t’ cum so bad,” he cried, desperate and aching for release.

“Jesus, you’re fuckin’ greedy, Art,” Patrick goaded. The hand that was in your hair had moved to your cheek, where he stroked along your skin sweetly. “You think you deserve it?”

“Yes, you asshole,” Art groaned. Patrick laughed, a smile spreading across his lips. You raised a brow, looking at the brunet expectantly for permission. He nodded and you smiled.

“Go on, baby, I’ve got you,” you said, hand moving faster. “I won’t be mean, I’ll let you get what you need.”

He cried out as he finished, painting your tongue with thick spurts of cum. You worked him through it, taking every drop he could offer you, until the feeling of your touch became too much.

“Don’t swallow, c’mere,” Patrick said. You joined him at the top of the bed, kissing him deeply, passing Art’s cum between your mouths with slow laves of your tongues against each other.

Art whined, reaching for your faces, wanting you to include him. Patrick leaned down, kissing him deeply, so he could taste the efforts of both of your attentions. You leaned in, tongue brushing Patrick’s, and Art’s, and you felt warmth flutter in your chest.

“You’re too nice to him,” Patrick said after he pulled away. “I would’ve made him beg for it.”

thank you for readinggggg <3 this was so fun to write 😁🩵

#art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson #challengers 2024 #challengers fanfic #challengers x reader #my writing

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2kiran · 2 days

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゛ KEEGAN P RUSS ⸝⸝ “damn, kid, who taught you that?”

synopsis. a man who's too starved of attention and a man who's low on patience. you two make a great pair, in spite of the prominent presence of your denial. | word count. 0,9k // 978 ◞

caution. bratty keegan. top male reader. mentioned spanking. gun play. degradation kink. dumbification. rough anal sex. no use of protection (wrap it before you tap it). namecalling (whore, slut).

3KVENT NAVI ﹑ MAIN MASTERLIST

keegan russ who's the epitome of need. he'll shamelessly yearn for your presence, grabby hands clinging onto your shoulder to feign friendliness with the gesture. he grips harsher than necessary, stepping a little bit too close. it's normal; unordinary out of sight, until his clothed cock purposely brushes against your thigh and you decide that act alone is your final straw.

his face nuzzling the pillow within his arms, muffling the high-pitched whimpers that fleed his quivering lips. “please- haah.. don' be a tease.” keegan russ who lazily pushes himself back into your face when your harsh hand relents it's assault on his ass, now replaced with your mellow and wet tongue tracing the red prints.

spittle dribbles down your chin, gathering on his lower cheek. it stung, tears prickling keegan russ' lashes. the angry head of his cock spat out pre, weeping at the feeling of the pink muscle lapping at him. you were right there, his muscles contracting around nothing as he felt your breath hit his hole. if only he knew how to make you move closer.

“or what?” cold and deadly. something so familiar trailing down and down until it heavily rested against the base of his dick.

he's internally panicking, heart skipping beats until his hips gently rock, pursuing that sensation. keegan russ' mouth is lost and locked on his face. “you're fuckin' pathetic. are you not ashamed? a man like you gets so wet from a gun.”

he loves when you use that tone on him. he tilts his head enough, eyes peeking above his shoulder and he nearly cums on polished wood when his stare lands on your kneeling form. your teeth grazes him, tickles his flesh, injecting into his skin and you're suddenly a drug that's inscribed into his being. engraved into that distant heart of his, pounding with life solely for you.

“that's your doin'.” keegan russ states, matter-of-factly. he lets out a drawled whine when you pull away, saliva sticking to him and it's concerning how he doesn't feel an ounce of disgust. the sight has you itching to snap an image of his ass matching the crimson on his flushed face. “did i say you could speak, whore?”

you rise to your feet, fingers wrapping themselves in his strands and tugging him closer to you. he's like an obedient dog, well trained to know the signal, locking his lips onto yours. an intimate tangle, shoving your tongue into his awaiting mouth and swallowing down his surprised moan.

pressing your straining cock against his sensitive backside, it's as if you're sucking the air out of his lungs. he's the first to free himself from the kiss, panting harshly to recover.

“you - hnnn - asked me a question, and 'm not ashamed. i want it, want you.” he's murmuring through dreamy breaths, hips gently rolling to wordlessly convince you to finally fuck him.

the muzzle of your gun coaxes out a bone-chilling pattern up his length, rubbing along the underside of his tip. your jaw tenses, clenches, attempting not to lose your temper and give in immediately. his teasing undeniably worked on you, the memory of that daring look he passed you too tempting for you to rid of.

the hard structures built in his mouth dug into the silk case of the pillow, drool seeping and smearing across the material. his groans barely dulled, sobbing freely to eradicate the blur in his vision. keegan russ reduced to a stupefied slut, bent to your will as he's teetering both on the edge and your last nerve.

“is that th - the best you can do?” he gasps, clenching around you.

you grind inside of him, cock caressing his prostate with slow, smooth motions. drawing out, rim taut around the thickness. “shut it.” your hips slam forward, jolting the man and it has pain striking his abdomen when the edge of the desk jabs him.

the pistol sits neatly within your hold, pointed to the back of his head. it sends an abrupt shiver to his spine, the sense of death overwhelming him. “shit, you're so tight. what, you don't want me to pull out that badly?” he doesn't get to answer. you don't let him.

keegan russ who almost shrieks when your other hand grabs his hip, the bruising grip failing to genuinely hurt as you force him to fuck himself on your dick. “hnnngh! it's—” he interrupts himself with a loud gasping-moan, muzzle pressing on him harder.

“not your fault? just look at yourself.” you guide him, hole clinging onto you desperately, as if he's keeping you in - begging you to stay inside of him. he's never felt so full, unable to form rational sentences that would defend his current state. “all dumb 'cause of my cock. can't believe it took a few touches to get you like this.”

the pace quickens, body numbing from the force. you wrap an arm around his middle, yanking him upwards. the weapon against his temple, reminding him of it's presence, a weak whimper falling in between the pleasure-blinding moments. “what a slut you are.”

your leaky tip repeatedly rammed his sweet spot, his walls carrying the shape of your size. keegan russ cries out, hands reaching your forearm to ground himself to reality. a zip of ecstasy runs through him and up to cut his train of thoughts. brain idly sensing how your finger was centimeters away from the trigger.

his dick twitches, pearly, thick ropes spurting from his neglected slit. he would've doubled over if it wasn't for your strong hold keeping him in place, lowering the gun and kissing his cheek whilst he comes down from his high.

keegan russ groans out, the sound mixing with a half-whine. he was needy, and you lacked the copious amount required of patience to tolerate it. he had to have more. “why'd you stop?”

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 days

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Aita for making my partner feel bad about sex?

NSFW Warning for this one, tl;dr at bottom. Sent in May 26th, 2024, goat to locate later

🐐

I (23FtM) have been with my partner “Jake” (25M) for about seven months now. We met at work, were friends for a while, and decided to start dating after we realized we had feelings for each other

Please let me say that Jake is a good boyfriend. He takes me out, we share big purchases, our families get along, and he’s always been super supportive of me in the ways he can be. I would also like to say that I haven’t medically transitioned yet and very much do NOT pass as a man. Despite this, he’s never misgendered me and he’s always been really good about making me feel masculine.

So not long into our relationship, I disclosed to him that I have vaginismus (or whatever it’s called), and it means that I can’t really be on the receiving end of penetrative sex until I do some muscle therapy for my downstairs. Like it hurts when I try to insert anything into myself, always has since I was younger. No tampons, no fingers, especially no penises. Jake said this was fine and that he had confidence in his ability to make me feel good in other ways

Well… it’s been six months and I’ve never actually finished. He bought me a little rose toy to use, but he never grabs it while we’re intimate and when he does try to use it, he fumbles with it and decides not to use it and that me doing oral on him would just be easier. I can understand that for a quickie, we won’t have time to find what buttons to push that’ll make me finish, but most of the time we’re home alone, my roommates are out, and we’ve got all night.

And before anyone says anything: I have brought this up before. First time was what led him to buying the toy. It’s a good toy, I guess, but it does what my fingers would already do and he never takes the time to learn how to use it properly without hurting me. Second time I brought it up, he got really apologetic and asked me to use the toy while he touched himself next to me. I think that was the first time I finished in proximity to his body in our entire relationship. It didn’t feel good. Several friends pushed me to talk to him again, so I did.

I went to his place, Jake lives with his mom still, and I was trying to find a good place to talk to him, but he kept talking about work or his sisters or would turn on an anime that he knew I liked. The day ended with me giving him oral and then me going home. It almost seemed like he was going to reciprocate, but he hesitated and rolled off me. It really hurt my feelings, but I chickened out of telling him since he looked so happy to spend time with me.

Yesterday, he came over and I was finally able to squeeze in a joke about him being a “pillow princess” and his reaction was to get worked up and initiate sex to “prove” he wasn’t. It went the same as every other time - oral - him receiving, fumbling with toy, and then giving up. But he was smiling like he had done something revolutionary in our relationship and I just. Stared at him. He asked me what was wrong and I said hadn’t finished. He had a sad face now and said that there really wasn’t “much I can do while you’re, you know” while gesturing to my genitals.

I felt like crying, but I didn’t want to be the boyfriend who started crying over every little thing, so I just agreed with him and we cuddled until I drove him home. Before meeting Jake, sex was never a large part of any of my relationships. Half because I’m on the asexual spectrum, half because of my condition, so this would be my first serious sexual relationship. I love Jake, I love him so much, he was there for my when my mom passed away last year, and he was there for my college graduation.

On the drive back, he was really quiet so I asked him if he was alright. He said he was really hurt by my pillow Princess comment and asked me if I could take it back, that it made him feel like a bad boyfriend. I apologized for him feeling bad, but I didn’t outright take back what I said. He got out of my car still sad and I returned home feeling like k was gonna throw up.

So now I’m writing this to see if I fucked up. Maybe I should have been more assertive with my needs, maybe I should be more compromising so that everyone feels good. Idk.

TL;DR: I called my boyfriend a pillow Princess because he’s never made me finish during sex while I’m always serving him. He got upset and said I was calling him a bad boyfriend. Aita?

#aita #am i the asshole

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divine-donna · 3 days

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body talk

seeing challengers was a mistake guys because all i can think about is challengers and how much i love challengers and how cinema is back after people declared the death of cinema like three years ago and how much i wanna go see challengers again—

anyways uhhhh did challengers make me hop onto the mike faist train? yes. because i love a man that clearly worships his wife and kisses boys.

character: art donaldson

for vibes: "physical" by olivia newton-john

context: stanford university. 2007.

if you had a choice, you wouldn't be working as a receptionist in the gym. instead, you'd work in the infirmary. it was more in line with your desire to pursue sports medicine.

your father himself was an athlete who sustained a career ending injury and went into sports medicine. you wanted to follow in his footsteps.

but for now, you were working as a receptionist at the gym for your federal work study. college wasn't going to pay for itself unfortunately and your parents could only provide so much support.

art donaldson recognized you while you guys were at a party. "you're the person at the desk in the gym!" he sounded so excited. almost like a puppy.

"yeah..." you look down at your red solo cup. "you're like a regular. with tashi duncan."

"you know her?"

"well, i've talked to her a few times. she's great." who wouldn't like her honestly? you weren't the biggest fan of tennis but whenever tashi duncan played, she always managed to make it magical.

"you're also in my bio class, right?"

"you're in my bio class?"

"oh don't tell me you didn't notice."

you shrug. "i didn't. you're not very...noticeable, i guess."

art took personal offense to that statement.

okay not entirely. because to some extent, you were right. he wasn't as noticeable as some of the other people in class, like the lacrosse player on the guys team or the girl from the basketball team, both of whom you seem to be close with.

growing closer to art was just a matter of being in a lot of classes together, something you didn't realize during the first month of college.

to be fair, it was a lot.

but the good thing about having a lot of classes with him was that it meant you always had a go to person for group projects. and god were professors adamant about assigning group work.

at the very least, you had a workout buddy when you guys were free. sometimes, you were even joined by tashi duncan. so it was cool to be able to work out with a famous tennis player.

perhaps the gym is where you started to notice art's...physicality.

he wasn't entirely imposing, aside from being quite tall. but he had a surprising amount of muscle. perhaps the tank tops he wore didn't help much. it left little to the imagination.

because of your familiarity with the body and your desire to go into sports medicine, art called you when he was feeling a bit sore.

he opens the door with a smile, seeing you with your bag and clementines. "what's the fruit for?"

"just in case you get hungry." you step in and remove your shoes. "just lay down."

"bed or floor?"

"whichever you prefer. the bed might be more comfy. we'd have to move stuff around if you were on the floor. oh and take off your shirt."

"what?" he could feel his cheeks beginning to heat up.

"take off your shirt. a massage won't be that effective with your shirt on."

"alright. umm..." art just does what you ask of him, taking his shirt off and setting it aside on his desk chair. he gets on the bed and lays down, front side down.

you pull out a bottle of lotion and crawl onto the bed, straddling him at his waist. you are unaware of how red he is feeling you against him.

you feel around his back for bit, asking him where in particular is tight. once you got a good idea, you squirt some lotion onto your hands, rub it a bit, then begin to massage.

art would be embarrassed from the sounds that came out of him. but he was craving for the relief from his overworked and tired muscles. he could feel just how deep your hands went in, twisting and rubbing. your hands felt so good. they glided smoothly and your touch soothed him greatly.

"damn dude. when was the last time you massaged yourself?"

"don't know." he mutters, burying his lower face into his own pillow. he could feel himself growing warmer all over his body.

your palm pressing into him, dragging itself through his muscles, rubbing baby lotion into his skin so he's soft.

your hand reaches a part of his lower back, your palm rubbing through the muscle. and he moans.

you stop for a moment. "something wrong?"

"no...nothing's wrong..." he mutters.

"you sure?"

"yes. keep going."

he enjoys the way your hands move lower, and lower. he wants them to sneak to the front. massage him a different way.

your hands linger on a particular spot of his back though, feeling the defined muscle. there's something particularly...satisfying, about running your hands over his body. you were tempted to feel more. especially his arms.

art's arms were utterly gorgeous, as if sculpted out of marble by a renaissance artist themselves.

"i think you're all good."

"all done already?" he smelled like baby lotion. whatever that mean.

"unless you want me to massage elsewhere." you get off of him and he turns on his side to look at you.

the tank top you were wearing was a little bit tight.

art gently grabs your wrist. "magical hands you know."

"it's beneficial to learn how to massage. for your own betterment and health. though i will happily help you with the spots you can't reach."

he rubs circles into your wrists. "are they tired?"

"a little. it was because i took an exam yesterday. writing in those blue booklets is absolute torture."

"that's fair." his eyes flicker up to yours. the room was warm, the atmosphere right. "do you...like my body?"

"it's nice. you're very beautiful." you smile.

art pulls you forward, your legs hitting the wooden bedframe of the shitty college provided furniture.

"do you want to feel it?"

you bite your lip. "i think i do."

#gender neutral reader #female reader #male reader #x reader #challengers #challengers 2024 #challengers fic #challengers fanfiction #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader

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witerh · 23 hours

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need each other || boyfriend re4rleon

warning: nsfw, fluff, mention of leon's ptsd, dom/soft leon! phone handjob, on distance, dirty talk, animal names, caresses, orgasm, consolation, comfort.

rating: mature

plot: your boyfriend's long absence from home makes you miss him not only mentally but also physically.

Long-distance relationships, no matter what temporarily or forever, are always an unbearable longing and need. Thoughts are filled only with when he will return and worry about one rustle at home because he can will return at any moment. A couple of days, weeks and months have already been passing for too long, hours and minutes are like honey — they are slowly tormenting you with its slowness. Joy knows no bounds when you hear a notification on your phone, you hope that it’s your boyfriend, but it turns out it’s just a notification about the weather forecast. At night, hiding a pillow between your legs is simply unbearable because the desire to feel real touches is much stronger. Memories of his hands on your body, wanting to console you and calm you down from bitter tears that you don’t deserve make you sad while he consoled himself with a glass of whiskey at the bar. The atmosphere in the house just suffocates you like never before. You are used to coming home from work and smelling the cooked dinner, comforting yourself in the arms of the blond talking about your day. But now it’s deathly silence, broken by the jingle of your keys in the lock.

A stream of cool air blows into your bedroom through the slightly open window while you lie in bed and chat with Leon. The corners of your lips turn up as you can you hear his voice as if it were some kind of treasure. His words through the phone speaker feel like they are say from the heart. Admitting how much he misses you and will be back soon with a gift in the form of a new dress that you saw on Instagram makes your heart beat faster than before. You tell how things are going on with you at work and, in general, the upcoming news in your life. You haven’t seen him for a long time, you haven’t felt his comfort and the warmth for a long time which now replaces blanket. Fleeting conversations with him on the phone warm you more than any fireplace in a harsh winter that does not want to be consoled. This mission is too long for both of you and your cunt is already getting wet from his message: “How is my girl coping there alone at home, hmm?" It torments you, but at the same time it gives you pleasure like never before. Sweet torture that you are ready to endure on your own skin with defeat and hand in panties.

While talking about something new at your work, you didn’t even not right away notice how Leon was half naked and with rosy cheeks. He often worked out in the gym, because you always need to keep in shape, just as you always need to keep the bookshelves in order from dust in your house. He carefully tried and trained his muscles, so that veins almost burst under his slightly tanned skin. I can’t say that you didn’t admire his muscular body, his chest, his abs, but still it was too much. It was too beautiful a sight for your head to see his strong hands, that a pool had already formed in your mouth from your saliva. You didn’t even ask your boyfriend whether he was home from practice or not, because you still knew the answer: “Yes, I was, baby, otherwise it wouldn’t be me.”

— You think so, what if were you at home and touched me right now? Explain yourself for me. — you reproached into the speaker feeling a rather familiar knot inside your lower abdomen. The sound of your voice so alluring made him root for you even more. Leon could imagine the playful smirk on your lips as you teased him. His strong hand ran over his aching cock, which needed you more and more. Kennedy's imagination is simply clouded by excitement and he cannot think right now.

— I would lie between your thighs... and eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner... I'll make you scream my name until you forget yours... — he sighed softly lost in my imagination. About how you squeeze his skull with your plush hips, how you will cry for release while his tongue carefully works over your body, how your hands grab onto his strands of hair as if it were a sheet that was stained with your juices and his saliva. It makes his skin crawl. Leon threw his heavy head back onto the pillow, which eventually flopped from the big fantasies of your entertainment after his mission.

He will definitely make your pussy happy.

His blond hair sticks to his forehead due to sweat because it's so hot in the hotel room! With every statement and request from Leon, you felt that there was already a lake of your fluids under your ass. There is no point in resisting the temptation, and your hand is already under the lace fabric and circling over your clitoris, caressing you while you imagine that these are his fingers.

— Oh, Leon, — you mutter for him and only him — I want you... — your words were a request and a plea with heavy breathing. Your words and the sounds of your cunt squelching against your finger made the fire inside him flare up. His hand lowered his sweatpants freeing his already hard cock from its confines. Leon's movements were desperate when he heard this symphony of your sighs and sounds.

— What a good girl, — he answered, frowning from the tension in this situation. With every stroke he imagined that you were doing this to him which brought him to an uncontrollable state. Your shared muffled chorus of arousal and moans was heard only by both of you and no one else. — What do you want, baby, now?.. I will do everything I can in my power, —

Your fingers began to tremble due to the way you were squeezing them with your walls. His voice and words were stuck in your head for a couple of seconds while you thought about them while your boyfriend continued to console himself and you heard it perfectly. — Fuck me, Leon... Рlease... I need you so much.. right now, — your thighs began to tremble involuntarily — a sign that your fingers were doing their job well.

— I'm close.. very.. Oh God.. — Kennedy's slight muttering that you couldn't quite understand. Leon was quiet that there were almost no moans for you, but for him your moans were very often. His hand increased the pace of movement, smearing precum from the red tip with his thumb. You both lost your breath and the approach only increased without stopping for mercy. The tension in the lower abdomen tormented him greatly, as did you, constantly reminding him of the long-awaited release. With each passing moment, the intensity of your pleasure grew until it became almost unbearable. It's too much.

— Cum for me, baby, be a good girl for me... — he coos and his voice was hoarse with his desire and need for you. You succumbed to temptation with a hoarse cry, feeling like a knot was untying in the lower abdomen and your pussy ached and ached while your hips stood up slightly in trembling. You are lost and your mouth is dry and there is not enough saliva while your body is all wet from sweat and your own fluids, not to mention the sheet under you and now dirty pajamas. You could only hear his moans and low growls of his release with your encouragement. Thick strings of sperm released into his palm also staining his clothes and his skin.

You both walked away and breathed heavily without saying anything. — You liked it baby, huh? — his murmur was heard with the slight rustling of a napkin as he removed dirt from himself. Kennedy wanted to hear your approval or to hear what he did wrong in this unusual meeting on the phone. — This is not just “good”, it is ideal and only ideal, — you quietly whispered back.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon scott kennedy #older leon kennedy #re4 #comfort #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy fanfic #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut

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daenysx · 2 days

Note

Hi hi! Can I request a smutty modern aemond x reader where reader just need some time to wind down from all the stress so aemond tries his best to be sweet and romantic but when reader asked for a neck massage, aemond kinda lost it.. lol

thank you for requesting ♡

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, smut

you're trying to finish the last paragraph on your essay when aemond comes out of the bathroom.

he has a towel wrapped around his waist, his long hair curling on his shoulders. you know he likes them straight but the water coats them so nicely, the curls fall on his body gracefully. he has another towel in his hand, he starts drying off his hair with it.

you can't help but stare at him.

"enjoying the view?" he asks smugly. he's in a good mood this evening, smirking to your direction when his eye meets yours.

"kind of." you reply. you try to get back on your paper, it needs to be done in 8 hours, before deadline. you try to catch up on your work before the end of the term but it's a bit hard on you, your shoulders feel like they are stuck in the same position. you write another sentence as aemond finishes up with his hair. he wears a pair of boxers quickly before coming to your side.

"kind of?" he asks, kissing the skin below your ear. "that's rude."

you smile, typing a few more words. "i'm sorry." you mumble. "i'm almost finished with this."

aemond kisses your cheek as he glances at the screen. he likes what you write, he'll definitely want to read it when you finish editing it, and he'll give you his honest comments with lots of compliments. you tilt your head back to kiss him when you see him reading, a cracking noise comes from your neck.

"ow." you say, rubbing your neck.

"i guess that was a warning from your body to stop."

"just- one minute." you murmur, one hand on keyboard as your other rubs your poor muscle.

aemond waits for you to finish, and then he takes your hand. you save your writing, stand up from your chair to wrap your arms around his neck. your back hurts when you lift your arms, you frown against aemond's shoulder. he gives you a good kiss on the side of your head, his hands go over your shoulders.

"can i ask you something?" you say, still hugging him.

"of course." aemond replies. you take a step back to see his face.

"can you rub my shoulders a bit? and my neck?" you ask kindly. aemond couldn't love you more.

"i-" he starts, kissing your lips in between his sentence. "can totally do that."

you smile and let him take you to bed. he stays behind you as you sit on the edge, exposes your back to him by taking off your shirt. you hand him the massage oil from the nightstand, it smells so nice. he takes some on his hand and starts massaging your neck.

"try to relax a little for me, sweetheart." he whispers. you love his voice so much, and he's so close to your ear. "you're so tense."

you can't help the little noises coming out of your mouth. you've been so tired and tense lately, your body starts loosening up with a little care. the stress of everything stays on your shoulders, aemond rubs them with his thumbs. he's being so gentle, warm fingertips going over your muscles. you like it so much, you're almost asleep under his hands.

"'m not." you mumble. "you're so good, i could never be tense when you're doing this."

"flattering." he says, kissing your hair. "do you wanna lay down?"

you nod, quickly laying facedown on bed. aemond keeps massaging, your muscles loosen up really well. this is the best your body feels in almost a week, you think you've been too cruel to yourself.

he takes his hands all over your backside and when he gets too close to your shorts, your sleepiness leaves you. he rubs your waist, fingers skillful on you as he drags them down on you. you squirm under him, is he doing that on purpose? knowing aemond, the question is probably mistaken, he definitely knows the effect of his hands.

"aemond-" you say when you feel him play with the waistband of your shorts. you lean on your elbows to turn your head, his face is full of concentration. his eye meets yours and you squeeze your thighs for a second, definitely unintentional but he doesn't miss it.

"does it feel good?" he asks with a dangerously low voice. "when i do this?" his hand is on your waist still.

you can barely nod. "yes."

"do you want to continue?"

"i want more." you say, sure of yourself. "please."

aemond smiles slightly, his girl is the kindest. he sits on bed properly, leaning against the headboard and pulling you on his lap. he pulls your shorts and panties down, you take your bra off and sit completely naked on his thighs. you let your hands touch his chest and his stomach, he is flawless. he looks at you with a lovestruck eye, his lips parted only a bit.

he puts his fingers inside his boxers to take his cock out, and this might be the hottest thing you've ever seen. his long fingers stroke himself only a bit, he adjusts the fabric with his other hand. you can feel the newly forming wetness between your legs, you press yourself on his thigh unconciously.

"there you are." he says, one hand on his cock and the other one on your leg. "ready for me?"

you nod, move yourself forward. the tip of his cock touches your swollen clit, you can't help but lean against his chest. "it's okay." aemond whispers to your ear. "i'll do it, you lovely thing. hold onto me."

you do as he says, he holds your waist to support you as his other hand pushes his cock inside you. "slowly." he says. "don't hurt yourself."

you take him inside you with a breathy moan against his ear, he almost goes insane. the stretch is always nice but you are so turned on by his hands, he easily slides inside. you put your head on his chest, he kisses your hair too many times. you catch your breath, your lips are pressed on his bare chest. you give him a long kiss.

aemond holds your neck gently, he uses his thumbs to massage the spots he's been dealing with as he settles down deep inside you. you tilt your head back with a moan, he rubs your neck so well you almost come. he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, leaning down to suck it as his hands work on your neck. your hands stay on his chest, your nails digging into his skin. he lifts his hips a little, it only makes you want more.

"aemond-" you start, breathless by his hands. how can he be so good with them? "please, i'm- i need it."

"i know." he says, kissing your chest. "you can come anytime you want, don't worry about me."

"no, n- please." you say. "can you get on top of me?"

he does as you say, strong arms putting you on bed as he stays inside of you. "is that what you want?" he says, sucking a bruise on your neck. "wanted me to fuck you like this? oh- you're so-"

"please, please." you wrap your arms around his neck. "keep moving. i'm so close." you whisper the last part to his ear, he kisses your collarbone.

"you're so pretty." he says, totally losing himself inside of you. he moves back and forth, one of his hands starts rubbing your clit. "so pretty like this."

he rubs harder, his mouth on yours. you kiss him nicely, not letting him pull back by holding onto the nape of his neck. his hair envelopes your face, you can smell his shampoo. the tiny moans you let out during the kiss drags him to the edge, he doesn't think he can stop himself.

"come for me." he demands. he kisses you sweetly on your cheek as you obey, he comes right after you do. the sounds of him get carved in your brain, you feel numb under his body as your peak washes over you.

it feels good, having aemond so close to your body. the release is both physical and mental but your favorite is definitely the way your muscles feel relaxed. he groans as he comes inside you, you squeeze him hard when you reach your peak and it never fails to make him let out loud noises. you hold him on top of you when he finishes, trying to catch your breathing. he's the only thing in your world right this moment.

aemond buries his face to your neck. he doesn't think he's strong enough to pull himself back right now, your warmth is addictive. you draw shapes on his back, indicating him to stay just like this.

"i should clean us up." he whispers, his lips are sucking the skin below your ear. he feels worn out in the best way possible.

"later, baby." you say. "stay here."

he can't resist anything when you call him baby.

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delicatebarness · 2 days

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cry baby | chapter eleven

Summary: “You’re the heart of the family, Sweetheart.”

Warning: Fluff. Crying, it's Cry Baby after all.

Word Count: 1572

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A/N: I'm so so so sorry. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

About a week passed since the latest bar incident, and life had slowly begun to return to normal. Rumlow wasn’t embarrassed to show his face around the bar anymore and everyone stopped staring at you and whispering when you walked in.

Tonight, you decided to head back to the bar again. The familiar establishment was filled with the usual crowds, creating a lively atmosphere. Your friends greeted you with warm smiles and hugs.

The conversation flowed easily, yet as the night went on, you began to notice once again that everyone in your friendship group was wearing their matching ‘Avengers’ leather jackets. You hadn’t gotten one, and it always made you feel a bit left out, a pang of sadness tugged at your heart.

Bucky was the first to notice the sudden shift in your demeanor. “Something on your mind?” he asked, his knee nudged against yours gently under the table.

You hesitated, looking up at him. “It’s silly, really,” you paused, taking a deep breath. “But, I can’t help feeling a bit… left out, I guess.”

He furrowed his brow, concern flickered in his eyes. “Left out? Why?”

You glanced up toward the ceiling, trying to stop the tears from flowing, you felt foolish for even having these thoughts never mind speaking them. “It’s just… you’re wearing your jackets, and I don’t have one. At least, not my own.”

“That’s not silly,” Bucky replied. He reached his hand under the table, rubbing his thumb over the exposed skin of your thigh. “I get it, you want it to look like you’re apart of the group, not just seen with us?”

You met his gaze, giving him a small nod. He squeezed your thigh while sending you a smile. “Well, then. I think I have a solution.”

Before you could respond, he stood up and shrugged the jacket off his shoulders. “Here,” he said, holding it out to you. “Now you match.”

You shook your head, surprised by his gesture. “Bucky, I can’t take your jacket.”

He hesitated for a short moment, disappointment flashed over his eyes before he shook his head back at you. “Consider it a loan, just until we get you one of your own.”

You held up your pinky finger, forgetting where you both were for a moment. Your pinky promises had never happened in front of anyone else but each other. Only ever in your apartment, never in public.

Yet, his pinky finger tangled itself with yours. “Thank you,” you said softly, accepting the jacket and draping it over your shoulders. That familiar scent envelops you, like a protective embrace.

“Anything for you, Sweetheart,” he said, widening his smile before taking a sip of his beer. As he did, his muscles became defined by the dim light of the bar. Shadows cast over them, accentuating their contours. You found yourself gazing at his arms for a lingering moment, as though you were seeing them for the first time.

A couple of days later, as you were getting ready for an evening at home, you heard a knock on your door. You stopped what you were doing instantly, opening the door slightly to see who it was. No one was there, yet you found a small wooden box sitting on the doormat. Intrigued, you picked it up and examined it closely.

The box was beautifully crafted, with familiar delicate cravings adoring the cedar. You traced your fingers over the patterns. Inside the box, there was a note attached to a wrapped parcel, written in Bucky’s handwriting.

Opening the note, you read it carefully. It simply said, “You’re the heart of the family, Sweetheart.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you kept rereading the note. It was a simple message, but it meant more to you than your emotions could let you express. With a shaky breath, you unwrapped the parcel and found a soft, cozy, pastel pink cardigan neatly folded.

As you inspect the cardigan, you notice the patches on the back, taking your breath away.

You ran your fingers over the embroidered designs, tracing the outline of each patch: the Avengers logo, that you sketched years before, and your initials. The tears that were previously welling now spilled down your cheeks.

With trembling hands, you reached for your phone and pressed Bucky’s name. As the call connected, his face appeared on the screen, immediately softening when he saw you.

“What’s wrong, Sweetheart?” his voice filled with concern as he noticed your puffy eyes and flushed cheeks.

“I just…” you tried to find your words between hiccups. “I just wanted to… I wanted to thank you for the cardigan. It’s… it’s perfect.”

Relief washed over his face, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’m glad you like it,” he said softly. “I thought you’d feel more comfortable with a cardigan than a leather.”

Looking at him through the screen, you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice catching in your throat.

You took a deep breath after the call with Bucky ended, taking the note, you made your way to the kitchen. Carefully you attached the note to the door of your fridge. It felt like an important reminder.

Stepping back to admire the note, you wrapped the cardigan tighter around you.

A few days later, you were settling into your nightly routine, getting ready for bed, before another knock at your door. You hesitated to answer it, yet another knock came with a ‘It’s me,’ mumbling behind the door.

Answering it, you found Bucky standing on the other side, looking worse for wear again.

“Dare I ask?” you asked, making room for him to enter as concern filled your eyes and a small frown tugged at your lips.

He shook his head as he made his way to his usual seat at your dining table. “Just a little scrap, nothing serious,” he replied, giving you a weak smile.

You weren’t convinced, it was never just ‘a little scrap’ when Bucky was concerned. “Let me take a look,” you insisted as you made your way into the kitchen to fetch your first aid kit.

As you worked on tending to his wounds, cleaning and bandaging his knuckles, his gaze froze and fixated on something behind you. “Wait, who is this?” he asked, his voice filled with confusion as he stood, making his way over to where he had looked.

You turned to see what he was looking at, you blinked feeling a rush of guilt wash over you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?” you said, trying to play it cool as you reached out to take the tiny white kitten from his arms.

He raised an eyebrow at you, his expression skeptical. He moved the kitten out of your reach. “Sweetheart, the cat? The cat I am very clearly holding…” he trailed off, his eyes narrowed at you.

“There’s no cat here, Bucky,” you replied, trying to keep a straight face. And, still trying to reach the kitten.

Bucky started at you for a moment, an unreadable expression over his features. “Are you okay?” he asked, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

You glanced around nervously, a pang of guilt rushed through you for keeping the truth from him. “I, um, I’m not allowed to have pets here, but I couldn’t say no to her…” you whispered in a rush.

His eyes softened. “You are the sweetest thing,” he said, a smile playing on his lips. “But, wait… does that mean? Little Miss Rogers… the cities Cry Baby… my Sweetheart? Are you breaking a rule?” he added with a mocking gasp and a teasing tone.

You nodded sheepishly, a flush of heat creeping up your cheeks. “I know, I know,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. “I couldn't just leave her.”

Bucky shook his head, “Well, I won’t tell if you don’t,” he admitted, the hand he wasn’t using to hold the kitten reaching out to cup your cheek.

As the night began and ran into the early morning, you and Bucky found yourselves lost in conversation, the kitten purring between the pair of you on the couch. Amidst the laughter and the warmth of each other’s presence, there was a subtle shift in the air.

Bucky tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered as he looked at you, the way your glossy eyes sparkled with excitement over any small gesture the kitten did. He couldn’t deny the surge of affection washing over him, he had an overwhelming urge to reach out and pull your face toward his.

He wanted to hold onto this moment, but he knew he couldn’t. As painful as it was to admit to himself, he knew he had to leave.

Bucky stood up from the couch, forcing a smile as he tried to hide the rage inside him. “It’s getting late,” he said softly, “I should probably head home.”

Confusion and a hint of sadness flickered across your face, you assumed he would have been spending the night at your apartment, like the majority of the nights recently. “Oh, okay… I guess you’re right,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

As he made his way to your door, he paused a moment of hesitation before turning back to look at you. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”

You smiled weakly, a lump forming in your throat as you watched him leave. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

---

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#cry baby series #cry baby #bucky barnes x cry baby #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #biker!bucky #biker au

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blossom-hwa · 3 days

Text

manège | k.th

pairing: Taehyun x gender neutral!reader genre: fluff, a little angst and comfort, ballet dancer!taehyun and pianist!reader warnings: n/a word count: 1.4k notes: — this pairing's been on my mind for a good year or so, so I'm very happy to have finally written something for them :) please note that I've only been doing ballet for a couple years now, so if I've used any terms incorrectly, I'm very sorry! — for some clarification, mc and taehyun go to an arts school, and mc volunteers as one of the pianists for the ballet studio Taehyun finds his way back to you, again.

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manège: a classical ballet term for “circular,” which describes a series of steps done in a circular pattern around the stage

. . . . .

"...Taehyun?"

The question of his name is quiet enough that if he hadn't noticed the opening of the door in the corner of the mirror, he would have missed it. As it stands, his mind barely processes your voice emerging from behind the door, and it takes a moment to shake off the double tours and pirouettes before he can even recognize the face appearing in the mirror. He blinks sweat away from his eyes. "Y/N?"

"It's late," you say, stepping into the empty studio. "You're still practicing?"

As one, you both look at the clock hanging on the wall. It's long past eight, when Taehyun initially told himself he'd stop—long past nine, even.

Suddenly all of the exhaustion of the day seems to hit him at once. His muscles ache, sweat keeps dripping down his face no matter how much he wipes away, and there's a small but consistent flare of pain in his calf that he should really stop and massage out. Really, he wants nothing more than to just sit down against the wall, or maybe even flop onto the floor and stare at the ceiling while seeing nothing at all. He's been here since eight in the morning and his body clearly knows it.

"Yeah," is all he says in lieu of articulating all of this, though, because his throat feels gravelly and words are hard. "What are you doing here?" he asks instead. It's at least as fair of a question for you as yours was for him.

"I had class," you say. Taehyun takes in your leggings, the loose T-shirt almost covering your shorts, and remembers yes, there was a lower-level class held almost immediately after you got off your shift. "I stayed after to practice."

He frowns. "For almost five hours?" You were playing the piano for his company class until it ended at three. Your adult beginner class ends at four thirty, and it's past nine.

"Not ballet." You shift the weight of several books in your arms, and only then does Taehyun see their worn paper bindings, the music markings on the covers, and remember that people practice things besides dance. "Evaluations coming up. There was a free piano in one of the empty studios."

Ah. Taehyun nods. And then the room falls into silence again, broken only by the sounds of your breathing.

"So." You walk to the empty piano in the room, placing your books on the top before looking at him expectantly. "What are you working on?"

It takes him a moment to register your words, to understand that you're not telling him to leave or go home or get some rest. All of which he should do, but the looming specter of the showcase next week won't let him. "You're not going to tell me to go home and rest?" he asks regardless, and even though his throat squeaks a bit after spending so many hours in silence, you don't laugh. Not at that, anyway.

"Well, would you have gone home if I'd said you should?" you reply, raising an eyebrow. He shakes his head and a smile curves his lips when you give a little laugh. "See?"

"Point taken," he says, and when you laugh again he laughs too. "Grand Pas Classique," he answers your original question. "For the showcase. Next week."

Your mouth parts in a little 'o'. "This one?" you ask, playing out a short melody. He nods. "Can I see?"

He should. He shouldn't. He at once wants to but doesn't, wants to let the melody sing in his blood as he double tours and entrechats around the room, spinning and leaping across the floor, but he also knows that you're here. And if Taehyun is his own harshest critic, he becomes even harsher when someone else is in the room.

You look at him, though, and he looks at you, and he knows that you see him for himself. See the sweaty hair matted into clumps, see the muscles aching behind his skin, see the work put into every effortlessly pointed toe and graceful finger as he takes his beginning position in front of the mirror. And when the music begins to play, the melody spilling into his ears and then into his blood, he looks into the mirror and smiles not because he has to, but because your watchful eyes will never hold judgment. Will never hold disappointment. Will only ever see him, see Taehyun Kang the person and not Taehyun Kang the dancer, and will cherish him for it.

When he's done, the applause of one person cuts through the labored silence of his breathing, and it's enough to keep the smile on his face, to let his muscles finally relax, to wipe the sweat from his brow and sit down. Or—not really. He's still a little too wired to sit, but he leans against the wall of the studio and gestures to where you sit at the piano like it's the most natural position in the world, ready to play but not. "Show me something," he says when he has enough breath to speak. "What are you working on?"

There's a moment when you're flipping through your books, skimming pages filled with music and your careful notes, where Taehyun loses himself, for a moment, in you. When you squint at a few pages, then put the book back on top of the piano, then position yourself at the keys. The preparation—the careful placement of your fingers just as deliberate as his pointed toes and graceful hands—the moment where time holds still, before you give in to the song in your mind and your heart and allow the music to flow through your veins.

It all comes back to you, Taehyun thinks as your fingers waltz and whirl across the keys, dance in enchanting patterns of black and white. From him, to you, back to him and then to you again—in manège, arabesques and jetés leaping about the stage, coming away from the center only to reach it again the way everything always returns to you. Your voice, your music, always there. Always constant. Pulling him back to earth when he threatens to topple over the edge, never once wavering in your strength or patience even when you see the worst parts of him over and over.

He's sitting down by the time you stop playing, fingers gentle yet unyielding against the piano, coaxing a last, wavering echo from its depths before your hands rise, suspended in the air, then fall to your lap. When you look up, the fluorescent studio lights seem to burn your figure into his vision, like the afterimage of a lightning strike behind his eyes. "That was beautiful," he says, and he means it in more ways than one.

And you accept the praise in more ways than one, in the smile on your lips, in the twinkle in your eyes, in the moment where you sit down next to him, back against the wall, and let him lean his sweaty head on your shoulder with no complaint about how gross it must feel. "Thank you," you say, and when you do, the melody racing through his veins finally calms.

It's almost ten, now, the clock still ticking away on the wall. But you make no move to get up and neither does Taehyun, even when you murmur "Home?" in a voice that only makes him lean further into you, even when he makes a noise of agreement in the back of his throat. In the end, it takes nearly twenty minutes for you to finally pat his knee and say get up, Taehyun. And then he disappears to change and wash up and collect his things, and maybe in the shower he can feel himself beginning to fade away again, but then you're standing right outside the locker room and when he slips his hand into yours, he comes back to earth. Manège. Circling you, always. Leaving. Returning. Orbiting. Joining.

Music dancing through his blood and yours, a song that he will always be able to follow back home.

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

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yandere-sins · 1 day

Text

The Orcas' Tale - Krill's Story II

a/n: And finally! The finale of the series! It was two years in the making and still didn’t finish in time, but I’m glad I got to finish it at all. The stories didn’t all turn out as I planned but I’m glad I got to tell you about these three. I am almost certain that they’ll make an appearance on this blog sometime in the future, perhaps next year to next Mermay’s where we might have some very different kinds of mermaids showing up. But until then, I only have a few more asks to reply to and this chapter is closed. Thank you everyone who supported this story and stuck around for over a year to wait on the closure, and please enjoy the last chapter! ♥

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: Yandere!Orca Merman x GN!AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere... with a twist, Sexual Content (Mostly dub-con, Jerking someone off, Kissing, Attempted deep-throating, Rubbing against each other, Copious amounts of cum, Non-human cock, Mention of non-consensual mating, Magical relaxing cum), Violence (Major Character "Death", Fighting, Gunfire/shots/wounds, Mention of blood), Description of drowning, Animalistic behavior, Mention of claws/sharp teeth, Mention of Slavery, Mention of Abuse, Very long post (7k)

You weren't sure if you felt encouraged or even more appalled as you watched Krill's face contort, pleasure and frustration mixing as blood ran from the corners of his mouth.

He was biting his lips so hard, tearing the flesh with his sharp fangs just so he could hold back from giving any audible cue about how he was feeling. It felt like he wasn't doing it for himself but rather for you, considering how reluctant and unwilling you were to actually put your hands on him. But it also made your job harder, as you did not get any feedback on whether you were on the right track.

Even with two hands, you could barely close around his shaft, his massive cock pulsing and jerking in your grip violently, demanding more than you could give. You only had two human hands, so how were you supposed to handle all of this need in front of you? Krill watched you intently, following every movement of your gloves rubbing against his skin obsessively. The muscles in his body twitched ever so often, tensing and stretching to receive more or shy away from your attention, you weren't sure which.

"Krill," you called out, watching the crimson blood drip from his lips as he gnawed them, his gaze instantly snapping upwards to meet yours. "Don't hurt yourself."

That was enough for him to make a conscious effort to unlock his jaw and peel his teeth out of his own flesh. You were tempted to turn around and grab a towel to wipe off the blood when a guttural groan resounded from the depths of his body, unleashed through the opening of his mouth. You felt it shudder through your own body, piercing right to your core and starting a fire there, spreading the warmth from your cunt to the tips of your ears.

A mating call.

"I tried…" He winced when your hands stopped moving, holding on to his cock for support like you would to a railing. Every cell in your body was heating up, overcome with need after being exposed to this trick that the sirens had up their sleeves. I tried shielding you from this—you wanted to believe his words even though he didn't finish the sentence, but the effect had already rattled you to the core. It would have been sweet of him if this had been any other situation, but you two didn't have that kind of relationship. You had to act with the tools you had, and he couldn't deny the parts of him that were feral; those were just the facts you had to come to terms with.

"I didn't want to come back. Didn't want you to see me like this."

"But you did," you mumbled, regaining some of your composure. His groan had caught you completely off-guard, the overwhelming influence of a siren's call not something anyone could get used to. But for some reason, it made you even more determined to get this over with.

"And I told you I'd help you. So try not to knock me out again."

Your scolding was as light as a jest as you returned to stroking his cock. Krill let his head fall back, chortling some merman sounds and buckling his hips to help you. As the friction grew, you realized the gloves were more of a hindrance. Although you were reluctant to discard them, as the intensity was picking up, you decided to go skin-to-skin.

Every time you pulled your touch from him, Krill snapped his teeth at you, but you began to understand it was out of frustration rather than fury, forgiving it. "Watch it," you warned him once, his attitude a thorn in your side. You were trying to help, after all.

Strangely, he took your words for more of a command rather than you trying to get him to be less intimidating. And watch he did. He watched as you spit into your dry palms, his cock jerking upwards like a spring as you did. You furrowed your brows in abash nervosity as you caught his shaft between your hands again, smoothing over the skin. Without the gloves catching on every ridge, your strokes became much more even and longer, going from his bulbous tip to the slit the cock emerged from.

Out of purely scientific interest, you slid two fingers along the shaft into the cock slit, feeling around the hiding spot of such a massive instrument carefully while your other hand dutifully kept stroking him. A thick liquid spread over the hand that was closest to his tip alerted you to the stimulation you were causing with your inquisitive exploration of the merman, gel-like precum coating your hand. You looked up at Krill, who was back at biting his lips, unsuccessfully, as he whined through his teeth. It was hard to read him, but you thought he was in pain by his expression, so you immediately retracted your hand.

"No…" he sighed, rolling his head in the brace, a long, exasperated sigh deflating his body. "I was so close."

You could not help but feel frustrated by the lack of understanding of what you were doing. It was so hard to determine what felt good and what wasn't when you didn't really know the… man you were working with. So as you tried to build up the pleasure for him again, sinking your fingers into the slit and stroking his cock at the same time, you felt yourself discouraged by everything around you.

It was a feeling you knew too well. Having spent days and nights crying after you realized your life was over, that you'd be caught here forever as punishment by this corporation that neither cared about their researchers nor the creatures they were trying to exploit, you started to curse yourself for the smallest things. Sure, times had been rough ever since; years of bullying and scorn laid behind you. But you found yourself blaming every little mistake on the skills you lacked. Here you were, forced to jerk off the creature that had caused all of this, and you still failed at even that simple a task.

But you had always adapted so far. And this was your time to finally shine, you just needed to utilize it properly.

"Krill," you called out to him, and he immediately reared up to pay you his undivided attention. Albeit with a strange form of adoration in his eyes as you slowed your stroking pace. "I'm not your mate," you clarified, and he let out a weary chuckle.

"You're so cute, trying to deny it," Krill mumbled, sounding much more relaxed than before, although his cock was still jerking against your hand.

"No, I–" You felt your face flush with heat as his words registered, unintentionally gripping his cock hard and causing a blissful moan to echo through the laboratory. "I refuse," you finished your sentence, shaking your head at his horniness and softening your hold.

"But whatever it is, I'll help you. I'll make sure you don't get treated as badly and that you can live somewhat… normal. I'll spend all my time with you, so… promise you'll help me make this all possible. Promise you'll not try to kill me or anyone."

Although you saw him bare his teeth at the last part of your speech, his answer didn't take long. "I promise," he snarled, sounding less convincing than you would have liked, but you nodded firmly, grasping at the slight chance of a mutual understanding you two had. It was hard enough to have all these enemies around you. Perhaps you could make an unlikely alley out of Krill, who needed you just as much as you needed him.

"Okay," you whispered. The first step was made, and you went to the next one. Letting go of his cock, you stepped down the platform, Krill's brows furrowing as he tried to look after you.

"Where are you going?" he asked and you stepped up to a panel on the wall, staying silent as you pressed an inconspicuous button. Krill was twisting in his holds when you disappeared from sight, but when the metal lock around his neck sprang apart, giving him much more freedom than you should be comfortable with, his eyes widened. You held your breath as you picked up the wet towel from before and walked up to his head.

Krill let it fall back once more, watching you with suspicion in your eyes. Communication is key, you thought as you lifted the towel in your hand, taking another step. "I will wipe the blood off your face," you explained, and his eyes narrowed, sharply watching every step. You couldn't begrudge him for also having trust issues after the dose of drugs you gave him, causing his agitation. You were unable to stop yourself from glancing up at his cock, still perked up, waiting, needy. You'd be returning to it soon, but first, you needed to know if you could trust him.

"It won't hurt," you whispered gently, knowing he could hear you well no matter how loudly you spoke. Sacrificing your arm over your throat, you stretched it out, waiting with bated breath on his reaction before you dabbed the towel to the side of his face, clearing up some of the blood. Krill hesitated, perhaps just as tensely as you were, and you stepped even closer to properly wipe his cheeks.

"That's a good killer whale," you teased, lips curling into a cheeky grin, when you noticed the corners of his mouth twitching as well. He was trying so hard not to laugh along with you, but you used your free hand to steady his head before going to work on his lips and cheeks, wiping off the sticky blood. It could have been fatal to be too immersed in your work, but you wanted to believe that this cooperation could work.

"I need you to tell me if something hurts or upset you. With your words, preferable." Establishing some ground rules was your main objective as you cleaned him up. Trust would be harder to earn, but if you could show him how much better it would be to work together, that would be a big step.

"I can't hurt you," Krill replied, and you flinched as you didn't expect him to open his mouth, these sharp teeth still as daunting as they were the first time you saw them. You knew it hurt him that you were scared just by the tense expression on his face. But to your surprise, he turned his head to the side, kissing your wrist with an unfamiliar gentleness. "I could never hurt my mate."

"Krill, we–"

"Yeah, yeah. Not mates." He let out a deep sigh, all of the tension leaving him. When he finally pried his eyes from you, you quickly wiped off the last smears of blood of him, not wasting his distraction. It made you feel better to have cleaned up the mess you caused, even though you knew there was still the biggest mess to make. Undeterred, you brought the towel back to the table so you could examine the remnants of his blood later.

"So you need me to tell you how I feel."

You whirled around, finding him staring at you absentmindedly. You didn't even feel his watchful eyes on you this time, which was getting concerning. Were you growing comfortable?

"Yes, please," you answered, nodding encouragingly. "We need to understand each other if we want this to work."

This time, Krill gave you a small, brief nod. A human gesture that looked a little clumsy coming from him, but he tried, and you counted that as a success. You stepped up to his head again, placing yourself between his restraint arm and his free head. For most researchers, this closeness would be way too dangerous. There were so many vital organs he could bite, but you'd bring results here, even if you had to put yourself at risk. "We are… a team now. Not mates, but a team. And we'll get through this together."

"Pretty words," he mumbled, exhaustion in his smile. "You keep denying it, but you smell absolutely delightful for someone not interested in me."

You felt your face flush from heat, realizing there must have been remnants from that mating call from before. It didn't help hiding your arousal when his head was perfectly in line with your crotch, and you immediately wished to abandon this plan of yours and go back to being hostile with him.

"Don't be such a smartass, Mr. Having-abnormal-senses," you chided him, reaching up to pinch his nose like one would while joking around with someone you were close to. This time, Krill was the one to close his eyes in wariness before snapping them up again, clearly unamused. "Is that how you treat your subjects?" he asked. His wording felt weird, making you question the meaning of the word 'subject' for you and him. But maybe you were overthinking it. Clearly, Krill wouldn't put himself below you in the hierarchy and must have picked it up somewhere in a context more related to experiments.

"Focus," you alerted him, forcing yourself out of your thoughts. It was easy to get lost in foolish banter—he was so fascinating, after all—and joking around with him felt more natural than with most people you knew. "I need you to tell me how to make you feel good so we can move on from this."

Turning away from him, you missed the grimace on his face as you gestured to his cock. "What do you do for pleasure? What do you like?"

"I…" he drew out the word for as long as he could before avoiding your eyes, and you scoffed in horror as you realized he didn't know.

"You never had sex before?"

"Of course I did," he snapped back. "It's easy with other mermaids. You catch them while they are in heat, do your thing, and it's over. We don't need to know what we like or don't like. It's just easy like that. They are… they're not like you."

You should have been relieved to hear he wasn't a virgin, but at the same time his last words made you panic. If he didn't know, you two would have to start from the basics, and there simply wasn't any time for that. His words also implied that you might not be able to satisfy him, making you worry even more. Now, it was you gnawing on your lips, unsure of how to proceed. You thought you were making progress, but alas, it was all for naught.

No. No, you couldn't give up yet.

"I will try something," you announced, and looking into Krill's eyes, you felt a shiver run down your spine. It was either one of fear from the intensity that served as a warning or pleasure from the keen interest he was showing you—undiluted, enamored interest. "I don't know if you'll like it, but try not to hurt me."

Before he could react and diminish your feeble confidence even more, you pulled off your facemask and leaned down, awkwardly smashing your lips against his. It could barely be called a kiss, but although you felt weird initiating it so suddenly, he immediately caught on. Parting his lips in a hot breath, his tongue lapped out, demanding entrance from you. And caught off-guard as you were, you gasped, giving him what he wanted. The taste of blood lingered, but it was overtaken quickly by the intensity of the kiss. His tongue was choke-worthy, but as much as you wanted to get away, you tried to endure his inquisitiveness, allowing him a taste as he rubbed it over your tongue and blunt teeth that would never be able to hurt him.

Only when his tongue threatened to slip down your throat did you react, jerking away faster than Krill could respond. There were signs of frustration as he rattled in his holds, hands curled into fists while his head tried to follow. "Why did you stop?" he asked as you coughed from the unwanted penetration of your throat.

"It can't go that deep," you explained. "You have to be gentle. I am not as big as your kind is."

His frustration was expressed in a growl before Krill snapped, "Again!" at you, and you took a deep breath.

"Gentle," you urged, and he brought his lips together thinly as if to restrain himself. It was almost comical, considering you would kiss him again, but this time, his effort paid off. Although his tongue kept lapping out, and you refused to get yours anywhere near the fangs, you two actually managed to kiss properly, the smacking of lips paired with unfiltered moans and sighs ringing out in the laboratory, making this almost intimate.

You reached out your hand towards his chest, a muffled groan resounding against your lips as you applied feathery touches to his nipples. Krill arched his back into your touch, and you flicked the nub, causing some of his muscles to spasm.

"I like this," Krill muttered in between smooches, quickly trying to find your lips again after speaking. You felt like a bad teacher, always stopping when things got intense. Still, there was only so much you could endure, and in Krill's eagerness, he had more stamina than you. "It feels good."

Seeing his lips curl into a cheeky grin following his words, the 'good' was nothing more than an approving purr from his lips.

"Good," you whispered as you moved away, caressing his cheeks gently. His body moved behind you, but the arm against your back remained utterly still, giving you a chance to rest against it. "That's a kiss. It's supposed to make you feel good."

Your explanation almost made you feel stupid, but you had no time to fall into your feelings of shame and defiance. Not when you had a purring merman demanding more of your attention. "Are you going to kiss me down there, too?" Krill asked, and you looked over to his cock, not needing more guidance to figure out what he meant.

"Would you like that?"

He nodded, and you bit your lip. You should have just said no. Letting your hands fall from his face, you didn't pull them from his body, feeling the smooth, taut skin beneath your fingertips. His gills flared, and now you were much more aware of the eyes following you as you stepped away, facing your fear head-on.

After all this time, his cock should have been dry like a fish out of the water. But you found even more spilled precum all over it and Krill's stomach. You gulped, searching for reassurance as you looked back up at him. There was something core-heating about the confident smirk on his face, the knowledge that he could make you act as he wanted, all for the farce you two were trying to build. If you really were his mate, you were screwed. But you didn't want to know the amount of aggressions and defiance that letting him down would rise between you two. He was your ticket to a better life, and at heart, you were still a softy when it came to these poor creatures captured here.

Catching his twitching cock in your hands, you led it to your mouth. Another gush of precum bubbled out of it, coating your hands and almost splashing on your face. You wiped over the tip with your thumb, hearing the soft moan coming from Krill just from this small gesture, before you brought your lips to the heated flesh, kissing the side of the tip once briefly before catching yourself and doing it properly.

This time, the sound coming from him was anything but restraint, your kisses trailing along his shaft. You couldn't take it into your mouth for even an inch with the massive tip befitting Krill's size. Regardless, you used your lips and tongue to stimulate parts while massaging your hands, sometimes harder, sometimes gentler, into it.

"Does it feel good?" you asked, leaving a few more pecks around the gushing hole at the tip, more and more fluids collecting there, making it hard not to have a little taste of it.

"Yes… Yes!" Krill confirmed, somewhat impatient yet completely enamored. It was just a small win, yet it boosted your confidence more than it probably should have. Growing bold, you drew closer to the top, swiping more of his fluids away as you planned to conquer this sensation with Krill. Pressing your own legs harder together, you tried to deny the wetness you felt when you first tasted his cum, both salty yet alluring on your tongue. It had a strange relaxing effect on your body, one that made you not care so much about everything that made you hesitant. And although you cautioned yourself, you found yourself sucking on the sensitive, aggravated skin of his tip, more precum gushing onto your lips until you realized you were licking it off with your tongue.

Immediately, you recoiled, unbelieving about what you were doing. You weren't supposed to enjoy this… or were you? It would make things easier if you didn't hate it so much, although the shame was hard to conquer. A strangled whine escaped from Krill, and you looked at him, his eyes once again glazed over. But not with relaxant. With lust.

He was holding himself back, and that wouldn't work for you anymore. "Use your words," you reminded him sternly, and he took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Do that again," he demanded, thrusting his hips into your hands.

"I'm sure you could ask a bit nicer than that."

You watched, stopping your stroking when he didn't react. Dominance and need fought with each other in the flaming red of his eyes, and the sight of it was mesmerizing. No matter if you denied being his mate, everything pointed to him wanting to give you the world. Even his questionable motions, the way he'd rather bite his lips bloody than to moan, it all seemed so profoundly ingrained into him to not want to put himself beneath anyone's authority. And yet, you witnessed first hand how much he wanted to give up by the way he uttered his next words—reverently.

"Please do that again. It felt so good."

And you did. You didn't care that endless amounts of juices soon invaded your mouth as you suckled his tip. You didn't mind the way he kept bucking the soft flesh of his tip into your face every time. Your hands slid back down to the slit where you danced your fingertips around the entrance, teasingly dipping it in and out. This time, there was no holding back as Krill yelled, "Yes! Yesss!" the further you two were going. You felt him getting close, a knot building in your stomach knowing you got him to a point of release, and you moaned softly into his tip, the sound vibrating on the surface, finally pushing him over the edge.

His hips went completely rigid as heavy strings of cum exploded out of him. You drew back just in time, moving away a bit too abruptly as you watched the eruption that was Krill's climax. It was beautiful, mesmerizing, accompanied by the sounds of the ocean breaking out from his throat.

Watching the cum drip out of his tip and down his body, you couldn't look away, couldn't focus on anything else but Krill's relief. His face was a mesmerizing show of shame that quickly turned into pure, unfiltered joy. You realized much too late that you let the samples go to waste as they sloshed on the floor. But Krill wouldn't let you down. Virile and perhaps still under the influence of the drugs, his cock immediately sprang back to life the second it had spent itself all over him, and you felt your core clench with admiration as it stood ready, just like before.

You should have been mad that it wasn't over. You wanted to. But in that moment, Krill being ready for another round was so much more exciting than you ever thought it would be.

There was no denying that you were aroused. Aroused by a creature other than your own kind. Aroused by the way he pleaded with you, how the strain in his body showed you all the ways he wanted more of you to make him feel good. The taste in your mouth and the memory of his mating call shuddered through you. You were lucky he was restraint, otherwise you weren't sure if either of you could have held back. And your body certainly wasn't made for being penetrated by this massive cock twitching impatiently as it waited for your return.

A new idea popped into your head. One that benefitted all.

Honestly, it was a stupid idea, but you were hopeful you'd be able to get control of all these thoughts in your head that were growing out of control.

After stripping off the apron and lab coat, you were left in the obligatory wetsuit, which was the standard uniform for everyone since you worked with aquatic lifeforms. You were supposed to get wet, although probably not the way your own slick stuck to the inside of your thighs.

Pushing off your shoes, you swiped one of the test tubes, sticking it safely into the chest pocket of your suit before you stepped closer. Krill's eyes were back to his sharp focus, studying every twist of your body with a burning passion. His body wrung impatiently in The Fisher, upset that you left him, but his eyes were so fierce with their adoration that you felt another gush of heat rake through you.

"I can smell you, Human. Let me out of here so I can make you feel good, too."

There was something uncanny about the way he was able to quickly catch onto things. You let out a shuddering breath before forcing your lips into a smile, shaking your head. "There's still more for you to learn. I think it's best if you stay where you are."

A growl escaped him, but you weren't scared anymore. It wasn't a threat to your life, though perhaps to your pussy as it reminded you of all the savage things he'd do to you if he could. You were feeling strangely aroused and relaxed now. You could only blame the precum that you swallowed for feeling so much more chill about what was happening, and you knew you'd have to study this thoroughly if you ever snapped out of it. You believed in yourself more now, and you had made him beg for you more than once at this point, which boosted your ego. Krill only had to sit back, and you'd take care of him—just like you promised.

Not letting him know your next move, you stepped up to his side, the movements in his body ceasing—the expectancy of your what you were going to do was high. With your hands dancing over his body, you gave his nipple one more flick, chuckling as Krill let out a strained sigh. Steading yourself on his hips, it wasn't too hard to climb on top of him. Since he was more or less situated beneath you, all you needed to do was find some hold on his slick body and climb on. Krill unintentionally did the rest.

You didn't mean to fall down onto his cock, but when he bucked his hips unexpectedly from surprise, you slipped and crashed down. It did nothing to hurt him, though, and you both ended up moaning as your weight pinned his cock down, the pulsing shaft pressing into your cunt.

"Well, fuck," you muttered, already feeling like this could have been enough to push you over the edge.

"You should have let me lift you up," Krill complained, a slight pout puffing his lips, and you laughed, feeling strangely cared for with this comment.

"And let you miss this experience? I don't think so. Tell me what you feel."

There were very little words actually leaving his mouth as you rocked your hips forward, rubbing your pussy along his shaft. It was wet enough that the clothes standing between you two only added to the friction, not caused the same mess as the gloves. You felt the heat catching up to you as his cock twitched against you eagerly. A constant reminder of how much it wanted to be smothered in your walls, invade you deeply until it would spill its seed deep inside. But this was as far as you two could possibly go without destroying your body, and it had to be enough for that impatient cock of his.

"Harder," Krill ground out, his hands flexing in their holds, endlessly frustrated with the lack of freedom.

So, instead, you slowed down.

"I'm sure you can say that nicer," you challenged him, raising a brow as you slid your hips back and forth at a snail's pace.

"Fuck you," Krill growled, but when you gasped at his defiance, sliding your pussy up to his tip without looking, you both mewled in pleasure, immediately forgetting about his brattiness.

"You liked that?" you asked, unable to hold back your own ragged breaths as you pressed your pussy over the curve of his bulbous tip, all the way to the top and then back again. This was the closest you'd ever get to penetration, but it was damn good, just as it was.

Krill let his head fall back, groaning loudly as he bucked his hips. Luckily, his body was too massive to make you fall off, but you did feel like he was restraining himself more now that you were on top of him.

"I like it," he mumbled. "I like it a lot. My mate is fucking my cock—it drives me insane. Are you feeling good, too? Is it because of me?"

Krill looked back at you pleadingly, wanting so desperately to be the reason for your horniness, and you were unsure how to react. However, unable to deny it, you nodded and he let out a groan, more precum spilling out of him, wetting your thighs thoroughly. The Fisher was aching as Krill's arms flexed, and you became painfully aware that although it felt good—the ridges on his shaft teasing your clit, his cock pushing against you eagerly as he wanted the same as you did, while his precum warmed every inch of your body—it had to end soon. Lest you risk Krill being the first mermaid to actually break free from The Fisher and hurting you in the process.

"Krill," you mewled, feeling yourself get riled up as he pushed his hips upwards, allowing his cock to be rubbed against you rather than the other way around.

"Are you going to cum? Am I making you cum? Gods, you are so beautiful like this. I can't wait to watch you cum so prettily on my cock, Mate."

You knew better than to lose yourself in the pleasure, but to an infatuated merman, you must have looked like quite the wonder, disheveled, and horny as you rode him to the finish line. "You must cum, too," you gasped out as you were so close to your orgasm, knowing you were one mere push of his hips away from cumming from the intense friction and heat that tingled all through you.

"I am! I'm cumming with my mate, you can bet your pretty pearls on that!"

Krill was no liar. Because the moment you panted breathlessly, a single ridge flicking over your clit as Krill bucked his hips upwards, you both came fully undone. Your orgasm was overwhelming as you felt the cum travel through the long shaft, pushing its swelling into your pussy before exploding from the tip that you had worshiped before, but you were prepared this time, grabbing the test tube that you had hid in your wetsuit to hold it in front of the eruption happening before you. It filled with more ease than getting rid of the post-orgasm mind fog was for you, but even when you sacked down on top of him, you held the tube steady, not spilling a drop.

"Fuck…" you muttered, unable to remember the last time you came this hard. Certainly not from playing with yourself, that much was clear. Tasting his precum had to be an unknown aphrodisiac that you didn't know about; testing was inevitable. But for now, you had to get off and get your act together again.

"You good?" you asked, patting Krill's loin—the closest body part you could reach—before getting off him, classy like a cowboy but with a pussy aching and pulsing for the warmth it had experienced.

All you heard was Krill's low chuckle as a reply. He truly was awful at using his words, but you'd teach him that, you were sure now. Quickly, you stored the test tube with his sample in the fridge, jogging all the way over to keep it as fresh as possible. And from the workstation, you returned with more towels and a sense of stickiness all over your body. You hadn't noticed just how much of his cum had splashed onto your chest and stomach as well, nobody being safe from it, it seemed.

You were relieved to find his cock shrinking again. It was still massive, but it surely was going back to where it came from, and you had finally fulfilled one of the promises you had made. "You look pretty like this," Krill commented as you gave his stomach a good wipe down, semen splashing to the ground in unholy masses.

"Covered in your cum?" you asked mockingly and he chuckled. He sounded the most peaceful ever since you encountered him that day. No wonder, after having spent his essence in copious amounts twice.

"You look like a mate now. If I had you in my cave, I wouldn't let you wear anything but my seed ever again."

You grimaced. "Sounds mighty unhygienic."

"You'd come to like it."

The banter felt less aggressive now, although the topics were far from normal. Wringing out the third soiled towel, you sighed, announcing your defeat. "I give up." You dropped the towel, walking up towards his head again to press the buttons so Krill would be put back into the water. Once it had cleaned him, the filters could do the work of cleaning out the pool.

"Wait," he called out, and you stopped in your tracks, raising a brow at him.

"I want a… a kiss. I think I deserve that."

"I'm sorry who did all the work again?" you asked, faking your anger and Krill thought hard for a second.

"Then… you deserve a kiss. But I can't move, so you still have to come to me, Human."

You let out a laugh, but seeing how serious he was, you realized it wasn't a joke. You grew quiet as you thought about not wanting to but not wanting the mood to go sour after all that happened. It was all for the team building. Another trust exercise.

Capturing his head in your hands you didn't need to lean down much as he had enough mobility now and an idea of what to do, so Krill took the initiative to kiss you. He wasn't aggressive, didn't choke you with his tongue. But you quickly realized why you felt so icky doing it, its gentleness and the added trilling that reminded you of giggling too intimate to be between teammates. But you endured it for the sake of this experiment. The sake of reclaiming your future and actually be someone again and regain your freedom little by little. You did it only for that!

The sound of the door unlocking, the metal screeching as it swung open, made you recoil violently from the kiss. Krill hissed sharply, swinging his body helplessly in the restraints—but not against you.

A slow clap rang out through the laboratory, and you turned around, frightened, unable to hide the mess that was still everywhere and evident all over you. How were you going to explain this? Your worst nightmare had stepped into your new workspace, smiling from ear to ear, looking almost… proud?

"Wonderful! What a wonderful demonstration of bonding between mates," the Professor exclaimed skillfully ignoring Krill's aggression towards him. "I always knew you could do it, we just had to wait for the right moment."

"Professor, I…" you wanted to explain yourself, try to talk yourself out. Ignoring Krill's whining as you stepped away from his body, which could have been a protective shield to you, Krill quickly returned to hissing and threatening your superior as you moved towards him, desperate not to leave the wrong expression.

"No need," the Professor cut you off. "We saw everything and we are very impressed with your achievements."

He pointed towards the corner of the room, and you could have punched yourself for not realizing there was a camera with a red blinking light on the ceiling. Of course, they wouldn't have left you alone, even though they made your work out to be unimportant. "Fuck…" you muttered, defeated, knowing they had heard and seen everything.

"We aren't mates. He's wrong about that!" you explained, frustrated at the situation, but more angry at yourself. Your supervisor was behind the Professor, grinning like a kid on Christmas Eve about the development of the situation. Behind him, guards. Soldiers who were definitely underpaid but felt overly important in their role here at the facility. And they undoubtedly weren't here to guard you.

"Surely you don't mean that. Look at the poor guy. You've been breaking his heart every time you say it."

The Professor didn't touch you, and you couldn't begrudge him. He just raised his hands to your shoulders and you turned around on your own towards Krill, your eyes meeting. However, there was no such thing as disappointment. Just pure anger and restraint. It was your fault. You made him promise not to hurt anyone. And now he had given up, too.

"Let's put the fish back into the water and discuss your promotion. Matehood is so exciting, I can't wait to introduce you to another special mate of this one's cousin. I am sure you two will become best buds in no time!"

The cheery voice of the Professor did nothing to lift your spirit. You wanted to break free and do as he said, not wanting Krill to hear about these things and see you in this shameful moment. Tears were welling up and your supervisor went to push the buttons instead of you, feeling almost like you were betraying Krill's trust as his handler.

However, at the sound and motions of the machine's working, something inside Krill changed. He began struggling again, thrashing in The Fisher. "Don't you dare," he hissed, but at the Professor, rather than you. He began focusing his strength on one arm, The Fisher making an aching sound as the metal was strained.

"Stop it, Krill!" you called out, scared he'd hurt himself again, and his attention shifted to you.

"And let you be taken from me? I'd rather die!"

His heroics were admirable, but when the soldiers cocked their guns, you jumped forward. "No! No, wait! He's just confused from the drugs, he won't hurt you! Please don't shoot him!"

"Ah," the Professor sighed, much too relaxed in this kind of situation. "Young love. It's so sweet how far you two would go for each other."

This helped nothing to calm down the soldiers or Krill who was getting increasingly agitated as he hovered above the pool, waiting for the floor to open up fully. It was then that complete chaos unfurled itself. The sound of metal snapping next to you, followed by a heavy body falling to the ground. In an instant you were surrounded by darkness as Krill completely enveloped you, and you yelped, hearing gunshots ring out violently and the pained groan of your merman.

"No!" you screamed, thinking the worst. But as you lurched towards catching him from collapsing—a truly rash move as he'd easily bury you beneath him—Krill grabbed you by the waist. Before you knew what was happening, you were pulled into the water. You neither had the time to hold your breath nor to assess the situation as you sank to the depths, caught in Krill's hold while he was an unmoving mass weighing you down. You wanted to cry, thinking he was dead and so would you be. No one would fish you out of here, especially without knowing if the merman was still alive. And by the time they figured that out, you'd be long gone.

All you could do was wait out the inevitable drowning, and you commiserated this fateful meeting with the creature that destroyed your life in the first place. No… no, that wasn't fair. It wasn't Krill's fault. It wasn't even your own. You kept blaming yourself all this time, but in reality, it was the fault of greedy people and this facility that catered to them. Neither Krill nor you deserved what they were doing to you two. Had the circumstances been different, you might have come to an understanding and built a genuine, scientific relationship on trust. Although he was a handful, you had to admit.

Your thoughts flashed by like many others in your last moment, and it brought a smile to your face, remembering the stupid banter and even his insults and calling you 'human' desperately. You two were definitely even with you calling him creature and the like. Krill was a boisterous idiot and too cocky for his own good, but he could be sweet and caring. He listened, and he even protected you in the end. Reaching up, you found his neck, the air getting thin in your lungs as you hugged him tightly. He didn't deserve this. He really didn't.

The splashing of water was the last thing you heard before you lost your conscience, only for it to be immediately beaten into you as someone slapped your back over and over hard enough until you coughed up all the water in your lungs.

"And that's why we don't give them any freedom," the Professor's voice rang out, murrs of agreement echoing after. You felt his presence as he kneeled before you, the old man grunting from the strain. His finger dipped underneath your chin, raising your head to face him even if you vision was blurry still.

"Have you learned your lesson, [Name]? You'll never escape from here. I've made you into the amazing researcher you are, you are a product of my teachings. And you will provide me with the results we need. Only you can find the eternal life hidden in these creatures. I don't care what you have to do to get it. Mate him, fuck him, get your needs met by a monster, but afterwards you'll come to me with a product that will give you back your freedom, alright?"

"Krill…" you coughed. "What about him?"

"Oh, he'll be fine. A few doses of adrenaline and his body will regenerate."

Letting go of you, your head fell forward to cough out some more water that burned in your nose alongside the tears in your eyes, but you couldn't grasp the situation in front of you properly.

"I am so glad we fished you out there before it was too late," the Professor exclaimed, always thick on the dramatics. "What would we have done if we lost you two, huh? It would have been such a shame to lose our best researcher and their mate to such a little mishap, right, [Name]?"

This time, when you looked up, you couldn't help but glare at the person you had so admired when you were still studying under him. He was nothing but an insane maniac who would do anything to get an end to his means. Sacrificing merfolk, sacrificing humans. It didn't matter, but he made it clear that there would be no escaping him. No escaping at all… hm.

How did you set the orcas free in the past?

"Right," you mumbled, your lungs still hurting from the water.

"I'm glad we are on the same page," the Professor laughed, but all you could do was try to remember how you escaped before. The memories eluded you, but there had been a way for sure. For now, you had to admit your defeat as you watched Krill's barely alive body being transported away and out of sight. The door to the laboratory remained open as everyone left you behind, but you didn't feel like going at all.

You had to.

Getting to your feet, you had to follow wherever they were bringing Krill. And you had to remember how you managed to let them escape before. And when the time came, you'd go with them. But you needed access to the mermaids until then, perhaps some more companions. You lost your freedom, your new position as 'mate' hanging over your head like the blade of a guillotine. But even so, you had to push on, fight for what you wanted.

You lost the fight but not the war.

And when the time came, you'd make sure that this time, no one would stand in the way of your freedom.

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phrogfungi · 1 day

Text

The Love of Winter

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Afab! Reader

MDNI

WC: 2.3k

Notes: unprotected sex, creampie, glove kink, nipple play, sensual massages (I think that's in but I'm not for sure.)

There was the coldness that was usually brought on along with snow that pricked at the tip of your nose and fingertips. The cold metal of the heart that was embedded in your choker caused a stinging on your skin.

The room's couch you were lying in did next to nothing to combat the coldness of the winter month as you wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself.

You had skipped out on training, being too cold to continue, and your lieutenant offered you to lie down in his office after seeing you so pale. You were supposed to do patrol today, however, you thought deeply about skipping out on patrol, fearful that you may get sick.

You chattered your teeth at the coldness building in your skin and thought about returning to your quarters so you could grab some things that would help with the cold and continue training, or at least go to patrol. You closed your eyes. Taking a deep breath in, the coldness stinging your lungs, you swung the blanket off your body. You instantly shivered as you stood just as your lieutenant walked inside the office.

His usually cold eyes landed on you and his brow furrowed. " Where d'you think you're goin'? I told you to lie down. You're going to get sick," he stated sternly.

"Trying to go to my barracks." You stopped in your tracks and shifted from foot to foot trying to put together your words properly. "D'you think I should go on patrol, Ghost?"

There was a long pause of silence, the silence making it now obvious he was soft for you. He wasn't going to stop you from doing something you wanted to do. You sighed and walked out his office.

You clutched your jacket tighter as your teeth chattered. Your shoes were leaving footprints in the snow and you looked back from you. You sneezed, feeling the cold prick at your nose, and coughed from your throat, covering your mouth. You suddenly stopped as you exploded into a coughing fit, seeming to have something in your throat but not able to get it out.

You started panting when you stopped and you rubbed your neck, your hands seeming to soothe the pain felt in your muscles. You could feel yourself sweat and you wiped your forehead only to see nothing accumulating, making you confused.

Having felt like this since you started your patrol hours ago, you decided to ask someone to do your patrol for you and went to the medic. You sniffled your nose and hugged your arms as you opened the tent. After describing how you were feeling, he proceeded to take your temperature, check the inside of your throat, which he saw was red and inflamed, and decide you had a cold. He recommended you rest for a couple days and that he would contact my lieutenant. He radioed him in front of me, telling him I was unfit to do anything and that I would be resting in my barracks for the next few days.

I could feel a pounding headache forming in my head as I walked out the tent and to my barracks. Nobody knows how long I lay there, in bed, sniffling. I could tell it was night by the time I heard a knock on my door, the window telling me as I woke up from the slumber I seemingly dozed off to.

I opened the door to see my lieutenant, and I could see his face almost drop by how I looked. My muscles were too sore to even cross my arms, so I just kept them hanging. I probably had eyebags due to just waking up, and my hair was probably a mess.

I stepped to the side after he indicated he wanted to come inside and closed the door. "Jesus, you look like shit." He shook his head as he crossed his arms.

"Wow, thank you so much," I spoke, the sarcasm in my voice obvious. I walked over to my bed and plopped down, the bed sinking under my body as I laid back down on my pillow.

"You doin' okay, though?" I gave him a look, as if it was stupid he even asked. All I did was groan in response as he climbed on top of me, as he had done many times before.

Expecting the massage he'd usually give me when I wasn't feeling well, I felt his hand roll up my shirt. "Why don' I just help with that, huh?" He asked, and I sighed, stretching my arms up so they reached the headboard so he had better access.

He pushed my shirt up until it reached my shoulders and started by rubbing my back with his fingertips. Granted, his hands were calloused, but ever since I complained about it one time, he's opted to not take his gloves off.

I felt him start rubbing with the palms of his hands, and I instantly let out a quiet moan. He instantly stopped what he was doing. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, no, It just feels really good," I spoke.

He then spoke in the softest tone you ever heard him in, along with a few panted breaths. "Good. You deserve to feel good."

His words echoed in your ears, and you wondered if he knew you heard them or not. I now felt tension at my core, and I wasn't sure if Ghost knew it was there or not. However, I still heard him let out a breath when I pressed my thighs together.

His hands traveled to the upper part of your back, and you felt him now rubbing your sides. Another shy moan exited your mouth when the tips of his fingers brushed your nipple. He didn't say anything about your moan this time, and he instead kept massaging you until no part of your aching muscles was left untouched.

The second time his fingertips brushed your nipple, you were sure he was doing it on purpose. For a second, you thought about his hand massaging your breasts under your shirt, and the thought made you press your thighs together again. You were sure Ghost noticed what you were doing this time, as your hips started moving ever so slightly, desperate for friction between your legs.

You heard him let out a groan and you stopped for just a moment to look behind you, looking at him and his member straining against his pants, making a prominent print. You watched as his hooded eyes jerked up from your back to your face and he tilted his head. "Don't stop." He paused a moment before moving his hands back to your sides. "You look pretty humping against me like that."

Your mouth opened slightly as you watched his muscles flex while he brushed the tips of his fingers against your nipple again. You squished your head against the pillow as you let out a moan, trying to hide your sounds, as he leaned forward and pressed his hand against your breast.

One of his hands moved from your breast, however, and moved to clutch your hair between his fingers. Pulling on it, arching your head away from the pillow, he spoke, "Don't hide your sounds from me, you know better." Despite his encouragement, you moved one of your hands to your mouth as he pinched your nipple between his fingers, muffling your moan.

He moved the hand clutching your hair to your hip, pulling it up flush against his. As you felt his clothed member pushing against your core, he ground his hips against yours. "Not following your lieutenant's orders now?"

"No, I am, I am," you said, almost as a chant, wanting him to continue. You clutched the pillow in front of you as he brought both his hands to the hem of your pants, pulling it down along with your panties, revealing your dripping cunt to his grateful eyes. You felt a moan coming up from your throat as you felt his gloved fingers play around the hole of your entrance, coating his fingers in your essence.

His hand went against your ass, rubbing it just as he did you back, with the palm of his hand, then his full hand. He watched in awe as the plush of it spilled between his fingers. You looked behind you once again, watching as his hands went off you for a moment to mess with his tactical belt, taking it off and throwing it to the side of the bed.

Your eyes widen in surprise before looking back in front of you at the headboard. You heard him unbuckle his pants and wait as he took them off. The sudden feeling of metal rubbing against the entrance made your breath hitch in your throat. You looked back at you again, clutching the pillow between your fingers as you saw his eyes glued to you, mesmerized at the area you two were connected, almost as if he didn't believe this was happening.

He slowly bucked his hips, having himself sink in. It was just the tip, only the head, but it was enough to let out a moan from my mouth as I pulled my head back forward. Almost as if he was urged by my moan, he darted his hips, pushing them flush against mine, sinking his full member inside me in one quick motion.

He panted for a moment, his cloth-covered chest rising and falling as his hands gripped my hips. His grip tightened for a moment before he bucked his hips, urging a moan out of you.

You felt his movements stop as you heard a rustling sound, his hands off your hips, just for a moment, before he placed them back into the same spot. You were about to look behind you before one of his hands pushed on your head, pushing your head into the pillow, urging you not to look.

You felt the kiss of his lips on the spine of your back as he stuttered his hips once again, making a shiver run through your spine. Your fingers moved from gripping the pillow to his hips, urging his thrusts. His hips met yours with a wet slap every stammer of his hips.

You felt his hand grip your hair and pull your head up, pulling your body up so your back was flush against his. Both his hands moved to your breasts, massaging them as they jiggled with each thrust. You moaned at the new position, and he let out a groan as you squeezed his member.

Feeling his breath hit your neck, he kissed the crook of your neck, and one of his hands moved from your breast to your throat. "Taking my cock so well, sweets." You moaned in response and threw your head back against the crook of his neck. "And, god, those moans."

You whimpered at his praise, feeling yourself clench around him. You looked at his face before your eyes rolled back. God, he was beautiful. His short blonde hair rubbed against your face, and the scar on his face added the bit of discourteous he had.

"You're so pretty." My hand rubbed against his cheek. I was sure it was the fuzzy part of my brain that said that, the little romance making his hips falter.

As if not to accept it, he pushed you back against the pillows, his hips pushing against yours faster, making the fat of your ass jiggle with each thrust. You felt one of his hands grab onto one of your ass cheeks, smacking it before rubbing the redness out.

You felt the thrusts of his hips stutter, and you gripped him once again, eager to throw your lieutenant over the edge. You felt a tightening in your abdomen. You clenched around him one last time as you felt his warm semen spill into you, a groan leaving his lips, a warmth spreading underneath your skin.

He halted his movements, letting himself stay inside you until your mind was clear before pulling himself out. He watched as his white seed spilled out of you, you whithering and shaking underneath him as you came down from the high your orgasm had brought.

You plopped yourself down onto your stomach, and he laid down beside you, letting out a heavy breath. Without another second, he reached for his mask and pulled it over his head, covering his face. He lets out another sigh as he faces you.

He pulls the blankets over you and, rolling into his side, swings his arm over you. You breathed a deep breath and closed your eyes, crossing your arms in front of you as you stared at him. He stared back and, getting slightly embarrassed, you swayed the blankets off your body, the shirt you were wearing falling over your body as you stood.

Your legs were wobbling as you made your way to the bathroom. You came out a moment later, having gone piss and made your way back to bed. You pulled the blankets back over you and climbed into Ghost. Laying yourself onto him, your arms swinging over his burly body, you straddled him.

You lifted your body, and one of your hands went to his cheeks. "You really are pretty." Lifting his mask, his mask coming up to and resting on his nose, your finger moved from his cheek to his lips. A look came onto his face, a look that said he wanted something, as he glanced at your lips before looking into your eyes.

Obliging, you leaned your face closer to his, your lips just barely brushing his in a teasing kiss. He let out an aching sigh before he put his hand on the back of your head and pushed your head closer, interlocking your lips with his.

After he pulls away, you let your head rest on his chest, hearing his heartbeat against your ear as it lulls you to sleep, his hands resting on your sides as he closes his eyes, falling asleep himself.

#ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x y/n

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