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#biting you and biting you and biting you and biting you and breaking your fingers also so you can't type stupid entitled messages anymore
pucksandpower · 3 days
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Made with Love
Charles Leclerc x amateur baker!Reader
Summary: in which Charles would rather risk the entire paddock getting food poisoning (again) than break your heart by telling you that your baking is horrible
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You hum to yourself as you pull a tray of freshly baked cupcakes out of the oven. The sweet, chocolaty aroma fills Charles’ kitchen, making your mouth water.
This batch is sure to be perfect! You’ve been practicing your baking skills for months now, determined to get it just right.
Charles wanders into the kitchen, drawn by the scent. “Mmm, something smells good in here!”
He peers over your shoulder at the tray of cupcakes. They’re a bit misshapen, with cracked tops that deflated the second they were taken out of the oven. The frosting is glopped on unevenly.
To you, they look absolutely mouthwatering. To Charles, they look … well, he loves you too much to say.
“Try one!” You urge, holding out a cupcake. Charles flashes you a hesitant smile before taking it. He peels back the liner and takes a bite. His eyes widen and he forces himself to chew and swallow.
“Well? How is it?” You ask eagerly.
Charles clears his throat. “It’s, uh, it’s great. Your best batch yet,” he lies. In truth, it’s dry and dense, with a strange bitter aftertaste. But the delight on your face makes the fib worth it.
You throw your arms around him in a hug. “Yay! I can’t wait to share them with the team this weekend.”
Charles’ stomach drops. The thought of the entire paddock pretending to enjoy your baking makes him cringe internally. But he plasters on a smile. “What a nice idea! I’m sure they’ll love them.”
The two of you arrive at the circuit and you can barely contain your excitement as you carry a large container of cupcakes into the paddock. Charles trails behind you, backpack slung over one shoulder, his other arm wrapped around your waist. He presses a quick kiss to your temple before you flit off to distribute your baked goods.
You first approach Max Verstappen, holding out a cupcake with rainbow sprinkles. “Here Max, have one!”
Max eyes the treat dubiously but accepts it with a polite smile. “Thanks Y/N, that’s really nice of you.”
You beam and turn to Charles, missing the look of apprehension on Max’s face. Charles catches Max’s eye and draws a finger across his throat in warning. Max’s eyes widen but he nods in understanding. Charles won’t let anything ruin your mood today.
You make your way through the paddock, handing cupcakes to mechanics, engineers, PR reps, reporters, team principals, and drivers. Charles hovers behind you, keeping a watchful eye on each recipient.
Daniel Ricciardo visibly gags on his first bite when you turn away. Charles glares and shakes his head sharply. Daniel rearranges his face into a smile and gives a thumbs up.
Lando Norris takes an overly large bite and Charles has to pound on his back as he chokes it down.
Esteban Ocon discreetly spits his cupcake into a napkin when you’re not looking. Charles lunges forward and grabs his arm, squeezing tightly until Esteban wheezes out “Delicious!”
You remain blissfully unaware of the chaos that falls over the paddock in your wake, oblivious to Charles’ desperate interventions. All you see are your friends and acquaintances enjoying your baking.
When you finally offer a cupcake to Charles, he takes it and eats the whole thing without hesitation. Because even if it tastes like sugary sawdust, the delight on your face makes it the best treat in the world.
“Wasn’t that fun?” You gush to Charles afterwards. “I can’t wait to try out a new recipe soon!”
Charles just kisses your frosting-smudged nose and says, “I can’t wait either, mon amour.” As long as you’re happy, he’ll choke down all the questionable cupcakes you offer. Because your smile is the only thing that matters.
***
The paddock is bustling with activity as you and Charles arrive for the next race weekend, yet another batch of fresh baked goods in hand. You’re eager to share your latest creations — classic chocolate chunk cookies. You spent hours carefully following the recipe, determined to get them just right.
As you make your rounds distributing cookies, the reactions are the usual mix of forced smiles and discreet spitting. Charles trails behind you, glaring at anyone who doesn’t immediately rave about how delicious they are. The drivers and mechanics quickly catch on, showering you with praise and shooting Charles grateful looks when he turns you away.
You finally offer a cookie to Graham, a mechanic from the Mercedes team. He takes it hesitantly, eyeing Charles standing behind you. But Graham is new to the paddock and unaware of the baked goods situation.
He takes a bite and immediately grimaces. “Ugh, these taste terrible!” He blurts out.
You gasp, stumbling back as if struck. Tears well up in your eyes. Charles is at your side in an instant, pulling you into a comforting hug. Over your shoulder, he shoots Graham a look of absolute rage.
Graham realizes his mistake too late, shame washing over his face. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean ...” he stammers. But you’re already pulling away from Charles and rushing off, sobbing.
Charles turns on Graham, eyes blazing. “How could you? All she ever wants to do is make others happy!” Graham cowers before him, other mechanics backing away nervously.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Graham says miserably.
“Sorry isn’t good enough,” Charles snarls. “You stay away from her, you hear me?” Graham nods shakily. Satisfied the message is received, Charles races after you.
He finds you behind the garage, face buried in your hands. “Oh mon ange,” Charles murmurs, wrapping you in his arms. “Don’t listen to him, your cookies are perfect.”
You cling to Charles, sniffling. “I just wanted to do something nice for everyone. But I’m so horrible at baking!”
Charles tilts your chin up. “You listen to me. You have the biggest, kindest heart. It doesn’t matter if the cookies are a little, er, overdone. What matters is you put love into making them. Don’t let someone like Graham get you down.”
You smile tremulously. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best boyfriend ever?”
Charles grins. “Hmm, I don’t mind hearing it again.” Laughing through your tears, you tell him again, punctuating it with a kiss.
After ensuring you’re okay, Charles seeks out Graham. “I trust you’ll be more considerate going forward?” Graham nods meekly. “Good. But just so we’re clear, if you upset her again, you’ll be out of this paddock for good.”
The next day, the news breaks that Graham has been dismissed from the Mercedes team for “attitude issues.” You feel a bit guilty, hoping your cookies didn’t cause him to lose his job. But Charles seems strangely satisfied, so you don’t dwell on it.
From then on, Charles redoubles his efforts to protect your feelings whenever you provide baked goods. The paddock falls in line, fawning over your overly salty pretzels and dry banana bread.
The brightness of your smile makes it all worth it to Charles. Because keeping that joy and kindness shining in you is what matters most to him.
***
You step out of Charles’ Ferrari, the engine purring as he puts it in park. Taking his hand, you smile excitedly — today is another fan meetup organized by the team, and you can’t wait to connect with Charles’ supporters again.
“Are you ready, mon cœur?” Charles asks, squeezing your hand gently. His green eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at you adoringly.
“Absolutely!” You chirp, patting the large picnic basket hanging off your arm. “I made lots of treats to share today!”
Charles grins and leans in to kiss your forehead. “I’m sure they will love everything you made, as always.”
You beam, bolstered by his encouragement as you both make your way to the event. The meetup is being held in a local park, with tents and tables set up amongst the lush green grass and towering trees. You spot a long line of fans waiting eagerly for Charles’ arrival. Most are dressed in the familiar rosso corsa of Ferrari, holding posters and memorabilia for him to sign.
“Charles! Charles!” They chant excitedly when they see him. You hang back happily, letting him have his moment with his dedicated supporters. Charles takes selfies, signs autographs, and chats animatedly in Italian, French, and English. The fans are thrilled to interact with their racing idol.
After some time, Charles waves you over. “I would like you all to meet someone very special to me,” he announces, wrapping an arm around you. The fans erupt into cheers and applause. “This is Y/N, my love.”
You blush at the attention but manage to give a little wave. “Hi everyone! I’m so happy to be here today.”
Charles addresses the crowd again. “As some of you know, Y/N loves to bake and has brought some special treats to share with you all today.”
This is met with more enthusiastic cheers. Though none of them particularly enjoy your baked goods, the fans appreciate the effort and know Charles likes to reward them for humoring you.
You open up your large picnic basket, beaming with pride. “I made my favorite oatmeal raisin cookies, some lemon squares, and my famous rocky road fudge!”
The fans try not to visibly cringe, lining up politely with plates held out. You happily distribute your overly dry, burnt cookies and gooey, cloying fudge. The lemon squares are mushy and saccharine. But the fans accept it all with smiles and encouragement.
“Mmm, delicious!” One teenage girl forces out through a mouthful of your fudge.
An older man gives you a thumbs up as he chokes down a cookie, eyes watering. “So good!”
You beam, pleased that they enjoy your baking so much. As you chat with each person, you don’t notice Charles discreetly handing out autographed photos, caps, and other prized memorabilia to reward the fans for their efforts.
After you’ve handed out all your baked goods, Charles suggests a stroll through the park gardens. As you walk hand-in-hand admiring the flowers, he says softly, “You have such a big heart, Y/N. The way you care so much about connecting with the fans means the world to me.”
You squeeze his hand gratefully. “It’s the least I can do — they support you in everything, so I want to support them too.”
Charles stops and turns to you, his expression tender. “You are amazing, truly. I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He leans in and kisses you sweetly. Your heart flutters just like the first time your lips met.
When you return from your walk, the event is winding down. You say goodbye to the fans, who thank you profusely for the treats and making their day so special. You tell them you can’t wait to bake for them again soon!
After the last fan leaves, it’s just you and Charles. The late afternoon sun casts golden light on the empty picnic tables.
“Did you have fun, mon amour?” Charles asks, caressing your cheek.
“The best time!” You say enthusiastically. “I just love baking for your wonderful fans and seeing how it makes them smile.”
Charles’ eyes are full of love. He kisses the top of your head. “As long as it makes you happy, that’s all that matters to me.”
You snuggle into his chest happily. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
“I don’t think so,” Charles teases. “Why don’t you remind me again?”
You grin up at him. “I’ll tell you over dinner … I have a new donut recipe I want to try out.”
Charles fights down a grimace as he reminds himself that your love is more than worth suffering through another dreadful dessert. “I can’t wait!”
***
“Mate, you have to stop her before she poisons someone,” Max whispers urgently to Charles as you step out of the room.
Charles furrows his brow. “What are you talking about?”
“Your girlfriend. Her baking. It’s … it’s just terrible. I’m sorry, but it has to be said.”
Charles lets out a dismissive chuckle. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad?” Max raises his eyebrows incredulously. “I chipped a tooth on her brownie last week!”
Charles rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he avoids making eye contact.
“Look, I get that you don’t want to upset her,” Max continues, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “But we can’t keep lying and pretending it’s good! One of these days, someone is going to end up in the hospital.”
Charles sighs deeply, running a hand through his tousled hair. “What do you want me to do? If I tell her the truth, she’ll be devastated.”
You return to the room then, a bright smile on your face as you carry a plate of freshly baked apple tarts. “Who wants one?”
Max cringes almost imperceptibly while Charles shoots him a warning look. “They look great, ma belle!” He says with forced enthusiasm, taking one and bringing it to his lips.
The apple filling is gelatinous and tastes faintly of soap. Charles forces himself to swallow it with a strained smile. Max quickly declines when you offer him one.
Later that evening, Charles finds Max alone outside his apartment building. “I need your help,” he admits defeatedly.
Max looks at him expectantly.
“With Y/N’s baking … how do I get her to stop without completely crushing her?”
His friend contemplates this for a moment. “Well … you could try convincing her to take up a new hobby instead?”
Charles shakes his head. “I’ve suggested that before, but she’s dead set on baking. It’s her biggest passion.”
“Okay, then you’ll have to take a different approach.” Max strokes his chin thoughtfully. “What if … you told her a bunch of us were going vegan or something, so she couldn’t bake for us anymore?”
Charles raises an eyebrow at the suggestion, but then slowly nods. “You know, that could actually work …”
The next day, you eagerly bring a fresh batch of blueberry muffins to the paddock to share with everyone. Charles takes a deep breath before pulling you aside gently.
“Hey, can I talk to you about something?” He starts, trying to keep his expression neutral.
You blink up at him curiously. “Of course. What’s up?”
“Well …” He clears his throat. “I was talking to the guys and … Lewis has actually convinced a bunch of them to go vegan. Lando, Max …”
He lists off a dozen more names, watching as realization dawns on your face. Your shoulders slump slightly.
“Oh … I see.” You glance down at the muffins in your hands. “I guess that means I can’t really bake for them anymore.”
Charles feels a pang of guilt at the disappointment in your eyes. But then, your expression brightens again.
“I’ll just have to start baking vegan treats instead!” You declare happily. “This is so exciting, I’ve been wanting to experiment with more plant-based ingredients!”
Charles’s shoulders tense as the plan epically backfires. Of course you’d take this as an opportunity to bake even more.
Over the next few weeks, you gleefully embrace the vegan baking lifestyle. Charles has to smother his laughter when Max nearly chokes biting into one of your “chewy” vegan brownies. Lando spits out a mouthful of your gritty vegan chocolate cake when you’re not looking.
You, however, remain blissfully unaware of how dreadful your creations are. No matter how many hints Charles tries to drop, the problem only seems to be getting worse.
One evening, you set a plate of fresh-from-the-oven vegan peanut butter cookies on the coffee table, plopping down on the couch next to Charles with a proud grin.
“Try one!” You insist, picking a cookie up and holding it in front of his lips.
Charles hesitates for just a second too long. Your face falls and he scrambles to take a bite, barely suppressing a wince as he chews on what feels like a solid lump of chalk mixed with peanut shavings. He forces himself to swallow it down with an enthusiastic grin.
“Wow, these are incredible!” He lies through his teeth. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”
You perk up immediately, the dejected look vanishing. “You really think so? I tried a new recipe I found online.”
“Definitely a winner,” Charles affirms, trying his best to sound convincing. “We should bring some to the paddock for everyone to try.”
Your eyes light up at the suggestion and guilt twists in Charles’s gut. The last thing he wants is for the other drivers to have to suffer through these … confections. But he could never be the one to shatter your baking dreams.
The next day at the track, you eagerly pass around the plate of peanut butter hockey pucks to the drivers and crew. Charles discreetly pulls Max aside with a pained look.
“Please, I’m begging you …” he murmurs under his breath. “Just smile and nod, no matter how bad they are.”
Max grimaces as he takes an experimental bite of one of the cookies, his expression doing little to mask his revulsion. But he meets Charles’s pleading gaze and forces out a strangled, “Mmm … great!”
One by one, the others follow suit — fake smiles and strained praises as they choke down your baked atrocities. You remain obliviously pleased, unaware of their suffering.
Over the next few weeks, the vegan baking experiments only seem to get worse and worse. The paddock has become a silent circle of culinary martyrs — all sworn to an unspoken code to preserve your feelings at all costs.
You proudly present a tray of charcoal-colored muffins that leave the entire garage coughing from the plume of burnt flour. “Tried a new recipe for dark chocolate avocado muffins!” You explain brightly.
“Can’t wait to dig in,” Lando is close to crying, his eyes already watering.
Charles has to bite back a laugh as Max takes a heroic bite, barely managing to keep it together. He pats the Dutchman on the back firmly as the poor guy fights back a gag reflex.
“Two more words about her baking and you’ll be racing with three wheels next season,” he warns Carlos in a low mutter after witnessing the Spaniard nearly vomit up a slice of your “moist” vegan zucchini bread.
The sheer willpower it takes for the entire crew to maintain the facade is almost impressive. Technique and strategy meetings have now become immense displays of unspoken fortitude — everyone driven by the simple goal of not letting you catch on that your baked goods are, in fact, completely inedible.
Charles has started bringing backup protein bars and shakes to every race just to make sure nobody accidentally lapses into baked good-induced delirium.
He really has no idea how much longer this can possibly be sustained. But he also has no idea how to safely extract the situation without demolishing your passion and self-confidence in the process.
For now, his main objective is to ensure your bright smile and cheerfulness remain unchanged — no matter how many mouths he has to personally silence to make that happen.
At the end of the day, having you by his side, radiating that infectious joy and following your heart’s desire, is worth enduring all the subpar vegan muffins in the world.
He’ll take a bite of your latest abomination with an adoring grin, because that’s what partners who truly love each other do — they support each other through the good, the bad, and the burnt-to-a-crisp.
***
It’s the start of a new season, and Charles has been racking his brain for a solution to the ongoing baking saga. As much as he loves indulging your passion, the charade is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. The entire paddock is at their wits’ end trying to choke down your vegan torture devices week after week.
That’s when he has an idea — one he hopes will be a win-win for everyone involved.
“Surprise!” He says with an excited grin, presenting you with the envelopes. “I got us signed up for this baking course. I thought it could be fun for us to take some classes together!”
You’re beaming as you throw your arms around his neck. “That’s such a thoughtful idea! I would love nothing more.”
Of course, Charles being Charles is hardly fully forthright about his motivations. “To be honest, I’m the one who really needs the help,” he fibs sheepishly. “We all know I’m a disaster in the kitchen. But with your talents guiding me, maybe there’s hope!”
Over the next few weeks, you and Charles diligently show up for your baking classes. The instructor walks you through fundamentals like properly measuring ingredients, controlling oven temperatures, and mastering technical skills. Slowly but surely, your creations start emerging looking (and smelling) better and better.
One evening, you return home with a fresh tray of beautifully baked chocolate chip cookies — the first delicacy you’ve felt confident enough to bake since the lessons. You present them to Charles with bated breath.
He takes one tentative bite, his eyes widening in surprise. These are actually ... edible! More than edible — they are legitimately delicious! The dough-to-chip ratio is perfect, the texture is chewy but not dry or crumbly. He quickly stuffs two more into his mouth with an appreciative moan.
“Ma belle … these are incredible!” He gasps out between bites.
You clap your hands over your mouth, eyes shining with glee. “Oh my gosh, you really think so? I was so nervous!”
“Are you kidding? I could eat this entire tray all by myself!”
The two of you dissolve into celebratory laughter and hugs, the sweet taste of success quite literally on your tongues.
“I think it’s time for the real taste test,” you declare one day, rolling up your sleeves as you start prepping an array of fresh baked goods. “We’re taking these bad boys to the paddock!”
The next race weekend, you stride in carrying bakery boxes of your fresh chocolate chip cookies as well as some decadent fudge brownies.
“Fresh out of the oven!” You announce proudly, setting them down with a bright grin. “Who’s hungry?”
For a long beat, nobody moves. The drivers exchange wary glances, their self-preservation instincts kicking in as they recall the many baking debacles of the past. Lando bravely reaches for a brownie first, his face scrunched up preemptively-
Only to blink in surprise as the rich, fudgy flavor hits his taste buds. His eyes widen comically as he takes another bite. “Bloody hell ... this is actually good!”
The words seem to shatter the suspended tension. Soon the entire paddock is swarming the trays, devouring the fresh baked goods with delight. Charles watches on in disbelief, his own taste buds experiencing flavors he didn’t even know were possible from your former creations.
He sees Max take a bite of one of the cookies, freezing in place as his eyes slip closed with an expression of pure bliss. When they open again, Charles is alarmed to see they’re glistening with unshed tears.
The Dutchman wordlessly holds up the cookie, gazing at Charles reverently as a lone tear trails down his cheek. Then, to everyone’s astonishment, he brings the baked good to his lips and takes another sensual bite, savoring it like it’s the first good thing he’s ever tasted.
From then on, it’s like a switch has been flipped. The paddock that once dreaded your baking now seemingly can’t get enough of it. Every race weekend, they await your fresh creations with unrestrained enthusiasm, like kids on a sugar bender.
Charles has lost count of how many times he’s caught drivers and crew sneaking off to wherever you’re prepping the latest batch, nostrils flaring as they try to scout out that heavenly aroma.
It’s gotten to the point where Max’s performance coach has had to implement strict rules about his treat consumption to prevent indulgences from derailing his season.
“Easy there, Max!” Rupert calls in a booming tone, swooping in to physically restrain the Dutchman as he makes a mad dash toward where you’re unpacking that week’s fresh delivery. “You know you have a limit on those.”
Max strains against his performance coach’s grip, eyes zeroing in on the platter of goodies being unloaded with unrestrained longing. “I don’t care, she brought triple chocolate cookie dough brownies this time! Let me go!”
Rupert grunts in exertion, struggling to keep his driver in check. “This is for your own good! Think of your diet!”
“That’s irrelevant!” Max practically snarls, pupils blown wide like an addict suffering from withdrawals. “Do you have any idea how long I waited to have real baked goods again?”
It’s a battle of wills and metabolism that quickly becomes a weekly sight. Charles can’t help but chuckle fondly as he watches Max and Rupert’s familiar tug-of-war happen like clockwork every Sunday.
As much as he’d love to intervene, he knows better than to come between Max and your heavenly baked creations. He’s just thrilled that this baking journey took such a delicious turn — both for your invigorated culinary passion and for the safety of everyone’s tastebuds.
Honestly, he’ll take the sight of a feverish Max drooling over freshly baked goods any day over having to choke down burnt muffins and brittle biscuits. This is the sweet upgrade everyone had been dreaming about.
The true recipe for happiness was sticking by each other’s side through all those halfbaked stumbles.
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trashmouth-richie · 2 days
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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞
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꧁ eddie x female reader
a multi chapter mini series— based on thoroughfare by ethel cain
listen here (apple music) + here (spotify)
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summary: jumping into his truck at seventeen, eddie takes a journey in hopes to find love. years pass with no such luck, along the way he stumbles across you, a timid drifter who reluctantly agrees to join him, heading west. you’ve never trusted men, but something in those kind, deep colored coffee eyes stirs up a feeling you’ve never felt before. strangers to lovers trope, one bed trope.
triggers: 18+ smut
author’s note: no upside down, eddie was raised by his mom and dad in florida and they were in love.
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The wet shell of a sunflower seed stuck to the tip of your finger. Slicked with salted spit and the tart bite of cherry chapstick, you hung your hand out of the passenger window, waiting for the western wind to blow the husk from your finger.
His thumb rubs against the rough edges of the flint wheel of his zippo, the sweet tang of tobacco invading your nose as the flame sparks leaving a burning cherry on the white paper. A slight chap to his lips from too much sun yesterday at the motel pool in BullHead City, you had supposed. Still, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. The only time you could was when his eyes caught yours, daring you to look away.
The way he stared at you with a smirk twisted on his mouth took every bit of breath from your lungs. Holding your gaze in a cozy embrace with the deep warmth of his russet colored eyes until you finally forced yours to break away and look out the window instead. Bottom lip bit between your lips as a growing heat travels over the apples of your cheeks.
If you would have looked back at him you’d have noticed the way he licked his lips as he watched you sigh as if you hadn’t been breathing. Snapping another sunflower seed between your teeth before putting them on the crest of your lips to put them out of the window— he had your movements memorized. Each more tantalizing than the next.
Neither of you were able to deny the tension between you lately, letting it build and fester, aching for relief in the form of pleasure.
The last eight weeks had started to wear heavy on your chest, and you found yourself daydreaming about the beginning of this adventure, like a record on an endless spin to your favorite song.
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Not a single radio station would come in wherever the hell it was in Texas he was right now. With every crank of the tuning dial, only the agonizing noise of static strained through the speakers to keep him company as he drove along this highway that never seemed to end.
He cursed himself for not buying a map at the gas station he filled the truck up at this morning. His gut instinct usually guided him on which roads to take, and today was no different. Only today felt like he was pulled by something else, something deeper within himself.
The sky was a mix of cyan and cotton clouds, already hot for May, he was just about to give up on the radio before he popped over a hill and an oldies station came in clear as could be. And something else came into view, plenty far away yet.
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Hot wind whipped at your shirt, providing next to nothing for comfort as you trudged along the broken asphalt. You now understood why this place was called the Lone Star State, because you haven’t seen a damn soul in miles. For today, you didn’t mind the loneliness. Leaving home, years ago, you didn’t have a destination in mind, only the knowledge that you needed to get the hell out.
Whatever highway you were on looked to be deserted. As if the state built a multi-laned monstrosity elsewhere and gave up on this slow, lonely stretch, leaving it to the elements. Prairie grass poked through the splintered road, tumbleweeds swayed in the ditches, collecting and tangling as one like a tawny bundle of barbed wire.
Looking behind you, a vehicle showed in the distance like a wavy mirage in the desert. You had half a thought to stick your thumb out and catch a ride to the nearest bus station, but when the vehicle got closer your conscience took over, and anxiety thumped in your chest.
Please don’t stop, please please.
The engine hummed to a lower gear, and you automatically put a hand on the pistol at your waistband. Moving further over to the side of the road where whoever was driving could see that you weren’t interested in their good deed, you kept your head down and kept walking.
Tires slowed and you went into a small panic, wishing you had something sharp to hold between your fingers, but the barren highway offered no such vice.
You heard faint music as the vehicle got closer, crawling almost to a stop as you quickened your steps hoping they would just keep going and leave you be.
“Pretty hot out today… need a lift?”
The voice felt like velvet on your skin, a warmth you’d never known. Endearingly charming, no southern twang like someone from Texas would have. You ignored him, letting the crunch of gravel on your worn boots answer instead.
You had never been given the luxury to trust someone, and you’d be damned if you were gonna start today with some stranger on the side of the road. Heart rate kicking up, you all but bolted to avoid him.
“Baby don’t run, I’ll take you anywhere,” his drawl wrapped around you like a vice, soft and pillowy, and finally your curiosity got the better of you, as you came to a halt. You wanted to look this asshole in the eyes and flash him the pistol you kept, maybe fire a warning shot over the hood of his truck so he’d get the message. That no, in fact you did not need a ride, not from him.
Stopping so his passenger window lined up with you in the center you eyed the only other beating heart on the side of the road.
His hair was past his shoulders, brown and wavy, more than likely frizzy in high humidity. Eyes that were shaped like Bambi’s colored like a bottomless cup of coffee without creamer. His nose sat with a fading sunburn painting along his cheeks, each dwelling a poked dimple in the center. And you swore the key to Heaven was buried in his smile.
When he spoke it was clear that his intentions weren’t to cause you any harm. Minutes ticked by as he waited for your answer.
“Hey, do you wanna see the West with me?”
It was a simple question asked from the quirked mouth of a guy you’d never met before, you would have remembered those eyes in any setting. He leaned an elbow out his window as he threw the truck in park, twisting in his seat to face you a little more. A cigarette dangling from his large hand.
The butter colored sun shone against his caramel curls like a breakfast roll full of sticky sugar, the same light changing his eyes into a whiskey auburn.
He was a complete stranger, but what was even stranger was your one word answer that spread that million dollar grin further onto his face than you thought humanly possible.
You moved your hand from that handle of the gun in your tattered jeans, bearing more holes than actual threads of denim. It was meant for situations just like this, and you had nabbed it from your dad right before you walked out the front door for the very last time.
Instinct told you to run, but something in those dark eyes brought you a wave of calm, whispering out as if you’d known him for years. Your boots had already blistered your heels from walking this far, so what the hell?
Pressing a thumb into the release of the door handle, you swung yourself and your knitted bag into the moth-bitten navajo rug that covered the seat.
His smile didn’t fade, never so much as creased into a frown as he waited for you to get situated. Before he put his truck into drive he explained where he was going.
He was making the grand gesture of looking for love like the kind he grew up watching with his own mom and dad. Explaining that love like that was out there waiting for him, and he was determined to find it, no matter the distance.
Suspicion jumped to your brow, and you tried to stifle the scowl on your lip. “What?” he chirped, a little twist to his lips, “don’t believe in stuff like that?”
This bastard clearly didn’t know heartache the way you were practically related to it. You sigh lazily before looking over at him. Trying not to break his dreams before he even had the chance to realize what a waste of time it was, you simply murmur, “honey, love’s never meant much to me, but I’ll come with you if you’re sure that’s what you need.”
After years of living and growing without being loved, it had become almost useless, something heard in songs or read in books, surely it wasn’t real. But hell, you’d humor this man whose smile danced like a western sunset against a salty ocean breeze, what was the worst that could happen?
A large calloused hand reached across the cab of the truck, and you shook it with a small grin as his voice rubbed like silk across your soul, “I’m Eddie.”
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And so it began, the journey to find a love daring to be something greater than anything he’d ever known, hell bent and determined it was out there, wherever that may be.
He had asked about your life. Never pushing when your answers were too short, or ended the conversation entirely. Letting you have your space, he built a trust between the two of you that you weren’t sure about at first.
The roads were desolate, and you couldn’t imagine walking along them alone. You thanked whoever cared that your thoroughfare crossed into his, almost as if destiny had placed you there. Knowing you needed a friend after leaving the only thing you’d ever known and not having a single soul to rely on.
But as time went by, you realized just how much you could rely on him.
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That first day, he drove until the windshield bled to ink. Stars dotted across the sky once the sun went to rest, and he encouraged you to follow suit, pulling a hooded sweatshirt from behind his seat and tossing it towards you. Your hesitation told him all he needed to know, that the uncertainty of him was rooted deep. Too deep for you to let your guard down around him.
That pearl handle poked out from your hip and his kind eyes met the scared look in yours. He rubs his lips together before he speaks calmly, “you uhm,” he looks over at you to show how serious this was to him, even if you couldn’t see it in the dark, “you don’t have to worry about using that with me… I’m not that kind of guy.”
His innocence spoke through his eyes in words he hadn’t said, showing you that he wasn’t lying, that you could trust him. You took a deep breath, wondering if you were insane for feeling comfortable with a guy you just met, but it wasn’t long before you whisper, “okay.”
When you snuck a peek over at him, his face was lit by the dim lights of the dash, a smirk nestled on his lips, cheeks welled with the deepest dimples you’d ever seen, and your shoulders eased for the first time since hopping in.
Neither of you spoke for the rest of the night. Your head resting on the window, his sweatshirt rolled under your neck as you fell into a sleep so tender and warm you felt like a baby being lulled to bed as he sang along to the radio.
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The heat from the window warmed your cheek when you woke, leaving a less than glamourous mark. Letting out an embarrassingly long yawn, you stretch your arms above your head, feeling your back crack into submission.
“Shit, ‘m sorry, how long did I sleep?” you ask, covering your mouth again from another yawn.
Eddie smiled tiredly, his hair was wrapped into a bun at the base of his neck, sunglasses topping his nose, pushing up from his cheeks as he grins, “don’t apologize for sleeping when you’re tired,” he said, shrugging, “besides, you probably would’ve woken up if I crashed.”
A chuckle hits your dry throat and you cough, “where are we?”
“Still in Texas believe it or not,” he groans, turning it into a long yawn, holding a hand to his mouth, swallowing a bit, “I hoped we could’ve made it to New Mexico before I pulled over but I’m starting to think that ain’t gonna happen.”
You figured he would have stopped to sleep at some point in the night, even if it was just for a few hours. Guilt throttled you at the thought of him staying up while you were asleep. “I can drive while you take a nap.”
“Nah,” he says with a lazy smile, looking over at you, “not that I care if you drive my truck or not, I just think we could both use some decent sleep, watch a little tv, eat, plus… I need a shower.”
Taking a whore’s bath in the gas station sinks had kept you clean, but you almost cried outright at the thought of water, cold or hot you couldn’t care less, running down the length of your body. But the lack of money burning in your pocket stopped that dream in its tracks.
You had a couple hundred bucks left after selling off your car before leaving home. The cost efficient option would be to drive while he slept. “It’s really not a big deal, I promise I’m a good driver.”
The charm you tried to emanate when pulling out your license to show him that you indeed weren’t lying, fell flat as Eddie waved you off, “deodorant only lasts so long before we’ll have to ride with our heads outta the window.”
He laughs in your place as you stare out of the windshield, mind racing over the trouble of being able to afford a motel room.
“C’mon,” he smirks, that same lazy smile stretched on his face, you wondered if he ever got mad. “We survived almost a whole day together, if I was gonna rob you I would’ve done it already.”
“It’s not that,” you say, picking at your nails, fighting the urge to bite them to shreds, “I wasn’t walking because I wanted too…”
Wheels turn in a tired mind as Eddie nearly chokes when he realizes what you meant.
“Don’t worry about it,” he confirms, brushing you off as if it wasn’t a big deal that you’d be bunking with him for free, and when your facial expressions didn’t change, he lowered his voice, and took off his sunglasses, “seriously sweets, you’re doing me a favor keeping me company, ‘m not gonna make you pay for a trip you didn’t plan, okay?”
You sighed, and shook your head yes.
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The nearest motel was a hole in the wall type of place. Adhering to the kind of people that either paid by the hour or stayed for weeks at a time. The perk being it was next to a gas station where you refused to let Eddie pay for the armful of snacks he had carried to the counter. Including two hotdogs that you couldn’t be bothered wondering how long they’d been spinning in the warmer.
His boots clunked against the sidewalk as he jumped from the bed of the pickup hauling his duffle bag over his shoulder, the hotel keys wrapped around his forefinger. Outside of you both relieving yourselves on the empty shoulder of the highway last night, this was the first time you’d seen just how tall he was.
He squints in the sun and cocks his head, “bet you a dollar the carpet is orange.”
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Room 8 consisted of two full sized beds, a lamp between the two, an arm chair and a small television. A stiff neon brochure for adult channels lay next to the remote, and you scrunched your nose as Eddie pushed it to the floor with the heel of his boot.
Laying out the snacks neatly on the table, you hand him the other hot dog, licking a drop of mustard from your palm. He thanked you, and took a bite consuming almost half of it before dropping onto the bed closest to the door, laying flat on his back.
Having four walls around you gave you a sense of peace you hadn’t been expecting. Slipping off your shoes you wiggled your bare toes and sat on the bed facing away from him, rolling your socks into one another.
“How’s the hotdog?” you asked over your shoulder, moving your bag between the side of your bed and the wall for the bathroom.
A muffled sound comes from the other side of the room as he shovels another bite in, “rubbery, but not too bad for having been made at midnight.”
You snort and swing your legs into the bed. Grabbing the hotdog from the comforter and peeling back the white paper around it, taking a small bite. It was warm, and tasted a hell of a lot better than the moldy ham sandwich you ate yesterday. A satisfied hum leaves your mouth and you giggle.
“Hotdogs for breakfast… don’t think I’ve ever had this before.” You laugh again before taking another bite of the squishy snack. Eddie looks up as he chews the remaining bite, realizing this was the first time he’d ever heard you laugh loud enough for him to hear, what a beautiful sound.
“Stick with me, we’ll have breakfast for dinner, too,” his tongue pokes out to lick a smear of ketchup from the corner of his lip, and he yawns loud and proud.
You cross your feet beneath your legs, a content little smile on your face. “Do I still owe you a dollar if the carpet is also brown and green?”
Your combined laughter echoes across the wood paneling and the pictures of dogs playing poker. The two of you joke about the severely dated room, agreeing that this was probably the place to stay in its prime. But the sheets were clean and that’s about all you could ask for at this point.
Eddie’s eyes were nearly closed as he scrubs large hands down his face, his voice strained, “mind if I shower ‘fore I fall asleep?”
“Not at all,” you say, jumping from the bed and looking through the snacks to find the licorice, “take all the time you need.”
He tosses the remote to your bed and unzips his bag, pulling out a toothbrush and a clean pair of boxer briefs, a minute passes and he scratches his head before diving back into the bag, yanking out a folded pair of sweatpants.
Sighing as he peels off his boots, he walks to the bathroom door and before shutting it, he pokes his head back out, a curious little grin on his lips as he asks earnestly, “you’re not gonna run away, are you?”
You swallow the bite of licorice and smile back, “think you’re stuck with me, if that’s cool with you?”
His grin broadens to a cheshire smile and he says he won’t be long, promising to save some hot water.
Neither of you can quit the grin on your lips until the door unlocks, and Eddie mutters “cool,” to himself before leaving the steamed bathroom.
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Diners with smudge stained windows and siding that was warped from the sun's rays, came few and far between on those lone, dust covered roads. Eddie had pulled into almost every one. “Never know when the next one will pop up, sweetheart,” he smirked, sending a wink your way that had your stomach fluttering.
Each menu, although stickier at some places than others, was relatively the same. Eggs, Bacon, Toast. Waffles at the fancier joints or maybe a bowl of fruit alongside a flapjack.
He watched you intently as your eyes scanned the menu, keeping his promise of having breakfast for supper a few week into your trip. His own stomach had been grumbling since you packed up from the last motel somewhere on the border of Oklahoma and New Mexico. A wrong turn near McCamey had taken you North to Amarillo, three hundred miles in the completely opposite direction.
Instead of screaming about the wasted fuel, Eddie had only shrugged. He was excited to cross into the panhandle, and to make a check along the list of states you’d scribbled onto a napkin a few days into the trip to cross off as you came through them.
That quiet, suspicious drifter he had picked up three weeks ago seemed to blossom with life the more he peeled back the bricks that you had surrounded yourself with. But Eddie was charismatic, easy to talk to, and you found yourself deep in the throes of explaining things to him you haven’t talked about in years.
When your cheeks would heat and embarrassment creeped up your neck, you apologized for talking too much. He only shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he said that he didn’t mind, he wanted to know more.
The waitress strolled back over with a cigarette hanging from her lip, a gray ash practically a mile thick on it as she grumbled about the specials and set glasses of water on the table—ice already melted besides a sliver of a stubborn cube.
“I’ll take a cup of coffee,” he charmed, folding the menu placing his hands on top of it, “two eggs hard fried, a couple of sausage patties and wheat toast, also one of those slices of lemon meringue pie I saw in the display window.”
Without so much as a grunt, the waitress lifted her eyes to look you over. Setting down the vinyl menu, you place your order and lick your lips at the thought of the homemade lard crust on the rhubarb pie.
Looking out the window to the dry landscape, you sigh with a breath of content. You had never been this far west before, never been anywhere really besides the small town you grew up in.
Two coffees sit in front of each of you and Eddie thanks the waitress, a dimpled grin on his cheeks as he opens a packet of sugar. Warm eyes look at you as he stirs the coffee into a swirl, “Nothing like home, huh?”
A smile presses to your lips and you sip the bitter liquid, chipped porcelain against your front teeth, “definitely not, the air is dry here.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, slipping the spoon into his mouth to clean the coffee up, taking a big gulp of the burnt— probably microwaved— concoction, “it is, but that’s the beauty in the journey, exploring different places, meeting new people.”
He tucks a curl behind his ear, a tiny silver hoop in his lobe, you hadn’t noticed before and you ask, “you keen on picking up strangers on the side of the road?”
A laugh bubbles from his throat, and he smiles big showing all of his teeth, “in all the years I’ve been on the road, I never have, not until you,” he takes a sip of his coffee, a pretty blush rides on his cheeks, “guess I haven’t run out of luck just yet.”
You hide your own smile, itching your nose, “how long has it been?”
Eddie thinks for a minute, “well, I left Florida when I was seventeen..,” he adds up the years on his fingers with this thumb moving to each one, “… shit,” he says with a smirk, “almost nine years now.”
He was older, not by much, but you had both left at a younger age. Calling the open road and warm air home for years. Living like a Steve Earle song sporting a two pack habit and a motel tan, it seemed like fate put you on the same road that he was traveling that day.
But you push that thought away, Eddie was looking for love, and you were just tagging along like a pet, a friend at best.
“Do you ever miss it?”
He stretches himself across the booth, arms on the back of the peeling seat, pearl snaps straining against the denim from the broadness of his chest, and you find it hard not to look, “Nah, I’ll go back someday, me and my girl.”
That flutter happens again in your stomach and you feel almost nauseous at how infectious his smile is.
You spend the rest of dinner that way, trying to shove down a grin with each bite of breakfast food as the sun fell behind the mountains. Letting the butterflies swarm, with each time he looked into your eyes.
Not knowing that Eddie was also slowly losing his own battles, leaving with something more in his stomach that was sweeter then the stiff meringue on that damn lemon pie.
🌵 taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @micheledawn1975 @dashingdeb16 @hereforshmut @welc0me-t0-hellfire @aropodcastfuck
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thatwriterchick222 · 2 days
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snakebite (arthur morgan x f/reader) oneshot
summary: you get bitten by a snake and arthur has to suck the venom out... what could go wrong?
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“Shit…” You cursed under your breath, clutching at your thigh as you fought to push down the pain of the snake’s venom coursing through your veins. It was a deep bite, and you barely caught a glimpse of the thing before it slithered away. But the throbbing in your flesh was enough to know it was venomous.
Your horse had gotten spooked by the snake and bucked you off, fleeing for the treeline. The wind was knocked out of you as you hit the ground and unfortunately landed right on top of the reptile. Deciding it had had enough, it lunged and bit your thigh, rightfully so. Its fangs shot through the material of your skirt and bloomers, down into your muscle. 
Thankfully, Arthur wasn’t too far behind.
“What the hell?” He asked as he pulled his horse to a stop, seemingly confused by your horse running off and finding you lying on your back in the grass.
You were lightheaded. Nauseous. “A damn snake bit me.” In an effort to sit up, you pressed down harder on your bite, hoping to at least slow the venom as it seeped further into you.
What an embarrassing way to go. Especially in front of Arthur, of all people. 
“Christ.” He said, quickly stepping down from his horse. He made his way over to you as you managed to sit up against a tree, breaking out into a sweat. 
“I don’t feel too good.”
Arthur knelt down to your level, his eyes scanning yours with a sudden urgency that made your throat close up. “Don’t look too good ‘neither.” 
“Thanks.” You chuckled.
He reached forward and felt your forehead with the back of his hand, and your heart fluttered in your chest.
Even on your deathbed, you could not suppress your lasting crush on Arthur Morgan. Pathetic.
“Where’d it getcha?” He asked, looking down to where your hand clutched your leg. 
You lifted your hand, “My thigh.”
“Okay…” He thought for a quick moment, scooting closer to you. “Lift your skirt up.”
You froze, swallowing thickly with your dry mouth. “I- Alright.”
Trying to ignore his wording and the pit in your stomach, you did as he said, pulling your linen skirt up to expose the small patch of blood on your white bloomers. 
Without a word, Arthur grabbed the fabric, pulling at the holes where the small fangs had broken through, and ripped them wide, exposing the wound. 
“What are you doing?”
“Gettin’ the venom out.”
You blinked, feeling the warm pads of his fingers brush your skin. “How?”
His hand reached under your knee, pulling your leg up, and you nearly flinched. Not because you were scared, but because you didn’t want him to know how much you liked it. 
His eyes darted up to yours. “I gotta suck it out.”
You took a sharp breath in, adjusting your body awkwardly. “Oh.”
Then, as quickly as he had ripped your bloomers apart, he bent down, gripping your thigh tightly as he brought his mouth to your bite. 
And it stung like all hell. He created a suction and you felt as if you were being bitten all over again, a searing pain overcoming the area as you gasped. 
But there was still something very erotic about all of this. And you scolded yourself for thinking it. If someone were to pass by, they would see a cowboy with his head buried in your lap, and that brought a blush to your cheeks as he pulled away, turning to the side and spitting the venom out into the grass.
When he went back in, it hurt even worse, the numbness from your adrenaline wearing off. He sucked especially hard, and you grit your teeth, instinctively reaching forward and grabbing his arm. “Arthur–”
He pulled away again, spitting into the grass. When he turned back, he looked at you, his eyes strangely dark and his brow furrowed in concentration. Why was his face so close to yours? Maybe it was the venom. It had gotten to your head. Your skin was heating up, and your heart pounded hard in your ribcage. His hands were on your thigh, your fingers digging into the arm of his shirt, and you only stared back at him.
He broke the eye contact and went back down, this time only sucking lightly. You assumed he had gotten what he could out of your body. But your belly was warm and you felt the overwhelming urge to get closer to him, your body pulsing with pain and… arousal.
You pressed your lips together in pain, and when he sucked one last time, a whimper fell from your lips. But he didn’t suck anything out of you like he did before. His lips were on your skin and then they weren’t, and then they were back, landing higher up your thigh. Your hand loosened on his bicep and you didn’t know why, but you started rubbing him with your thumb. 
You couldn’t see his face under the brim of his hat, but you felt him move his mouth higher, his teeth grazing you and his beard scratching against your skin. It tickled. His fingers dug into your thigh, and you drew in a breath, a suspenseful silence overtaking you.
A sudden bravery took over your body. You scooted closer to him, and he moved even further up, his lips pressing lightly against your skin. Was he… kissing you?
You swallowed when his nose brushed your inner thigh. And then you spread your knees further apart.
Any pain you had was replaced with the burning ache for him to touch you. 
“Arthur.” You finally got the willpower to croak out his name, but you didn’t know what else to say. You said his name like a question, but also like a request. A demand. Like you wanted him to stop, but you also never wanted him to stop.
He halted anyway, lifting his lips from your skin, the coolness of the breeze on it telling you that you were wet with his saliva. He didn’t look up. He kept his face hidden by the brim of his hat. 
You could slice the tension in the air with your knife. But why would you want to? You had been waiting for a moment like this for the entire time you had known him.
He was always shy, and barely ever spoke about how he felt. You figured you would have to make some move or give him some hint… but now, at such an inopportune time… he seemed to want something from you too.
Were you drunk on adrenaline and snake venom? Probably. Was he taking advantage of you in a vulnerable state? Maybe. 
You lifted your leg, shuffling even closer. You couldn’t speak. And neither could he. But somehow there was this silent agreement that you both wanted something. You lifted your skirt higher, and he finally looked up at you.
He almost looked like a different man. His jaw was clenched, his pupils large and his eyes burning into yours like a wolf hunting its prey. There was a smudge of your blood on his bottom lip.
You nodded. Please don’t stop.
With just as much urgency as he had when trying to potentially save your life, he quickly reached for the waist of your bloomers and pulled them down. If it had been any other man in any other scenario, you would have hidden yourself in embarrassment and covered your eyes so you didn’t have to see him see you.
But it was Arthur. And he was quickly lifting your legs, pulling your hips up and closer to him, and burying his face in between them. He didn’t have time to take it slow, and you didn’t care, your insides pulsing and your face going hot. Your bloomers were still around your ankles, and his hat was still hiding his face as his breath was on your cunt. 
You lay back against the tree and he dove into you, his tongue exploring you aggressively, drinking you in with such passion you thought you might pass out. It suddenly occurred to you as you cried out that you were only meters away from the dirt road, barely hidden by the grass. Now, if someone passed by, it would look like you had a cowboy’s face in your lap because… you did.
Your hand flew to your mouth when he began to suck on you, those same lips that had just been sucking snake venom out of your leg moments prior. Your thighs clenched around his head, threatening to knock his hat off, but you kind of liked it on. He couldn’t see you, and you couldn’t see him. There was some level of anonymity to this act, like maybe for just a moment you could be different people and not have to deal with the aftermath of your actions.
But fuck, he was good. It made you question if he had been practicing on someone. Who had he been practicing on? He could practice on you for the rest of your life if he wanted.
You bucked your hips into his mouth when he groaned into you, already finding yourself nearing your breaking point. His tongue was rough but rhythmic, and it was so quiet outside you could hear the squelching of your wetness against his mouth. 
The feeling was building up inside you. You were floating, you were grinding yourself on his nose. Your eyes darted to your snake bite, red and swollen, and to your torn bloomers around your ankles, and to Arthur’s arms holding your legs as he bent over, doing something fucking incredible with his tongue.
You cried out as you came in his mouth, your hand finding his forearm, digging your nails into it. Your back arched and your hips bucked, shuddering with the feeling of it. He groaned into your core, seemingly just as pleased to feel you come as you were to come, and he slowly let you ride it out.
Catching your breath, you looked around, slowly coming back into yourself and realizing where you were. What you both had done.
Arthur’s grip on your legs slowly loosened, and when he pulled away from you, his eyes avoided yours. He lifted your leg and untangled himself from you and your bloomers. You wanted to rip his hat off and look at him. You wanted to kiss him. To taste yourself on his lips.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, clearing his throat. “Sorry.”
You sat up, your bare ass scraping against the dirt. And you couldn’t help but laugh. 
Sorry? He was apologizing? Like he didn’t know what came over him. Like he couldn’t help but make me come on his tongue. A simple mistake. Oops. You laughed harder, pulling your bloomers up. The pain of your bite suddenly came back to you, and you winced as the fabric rubbed against it. 
He finally looked up at you from under the brim of his hat as you managed to get your bloomers back up. Then he let out a chuckle.
You wanted to return the favour. You sat up and were about to reach for him, grab him and touch him and maybe provide him with an ounce of the pleasure he just gave you, but suddenly a voice came from the road.
“What the–”
You and Arthur both quickly looked up, seeing a man on his horse staring at the two of you with confusion. 
You were still flushed, and coated in a sheen of sweat, and your skirt was pulled up as Arthur knelt beside you. Oddly enough, it actually was exactly what it looked like.
“Snakebite.” You fought your smile, looking down at your leg as you spoke to the man.
Arthur nodded, “Had to… suck the venom out–” He stood up, and you noticed the bulge in his pants. Thankfully, he turned away from the man before he noticed. 
“We should get you to a doctor,” Arthur said, reaching his hand out to you as if nothing had happened. You were still burning from your orgasm, but you pushed your skirt down and grabbed his hand, allowing him to pull you up.
“Well,” The man cleared his throat. “Good luck, then.”
###
You both rode back to camp in silence. 
You wanted to pretend nothing happened, but you couldn’t help but watch Arthur keep adjusting himself in the saddle, clearly uncomfortable with how hard he was. To be honest, you had never experienced a man do something like that and not expect you to return the favour. But, you liked the idea of it, the taste of you in his mouth making him harder than ever. It clearly wasn’t going away, either, because he probably couldn’t stop thinking about it.
You smiled, kicking your horse to ride up next to him. “Need a little help there?” Your eyes flicked down his body, and he looked at you out of the corner of his eye. His cheeks were adorably red, and he looked away again. 
“Let’s just get back to camp, first.” He reached down and moved his belt slightly, trying to ease the pressure. “Make sure you ain’t dyin’ on us.”
You smirked. “And what if I am?”
“Then we’ll need to work fast.” He shot you a look.
You felt your cheeks go just as red as his. “I can do fast.”
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nomazee · 2 days
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Hello, congratulations on your milestone! 🎉
May I have (for the mix-and-match 😚) Dr.Ratio and the word-concept "bathtub"? 🫢
Take your time! ❤️❤️
this one was fun to write too (as per usual with ratio) i've written for dr ratio so much in the last two weeks i think i am becoming him.... Im slowly morphing into veritas ratio please save me... THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING this was lovely :3
my 1k event!
—°+..。゚。゚+.*.。.—
“No way. You take bubble baths with a rubber duck?” 
Veritas freezes for no longer than a millisecond before whipping his head around to see you in the doorway of the bathroom. He’d been relaxing just moments ago, sinking into the hot water with his eyes closed, and yes there was a rubber duck in the bath with him but that was not by choice. It just happened to be there when he ran the bath, and he opens his mouth to argue but is quickly cut off by your endless rambling. 
“Anyways, I came to wash your hair. One of your assistants told me you just left in the middle of your usual work hours, and I thought, ‘wow, how odd, the Ratio I know would never do that!’ And then I thought, what better way to cheer my dear friend up than keep him company and wash his hair! It did look a little greasy today.” 
“I am not your dear friend,” he argues mockingly, but the bite in his voice falls short when you circle around the bath and set down your paraphernalia on the tiles next to you (a microfiber hair towel, shampoo, conditioner, some miscellaneous hair foams and sprays that he really does not trust you with). “You are the most insufferable person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. Get out of my bathroom.” 
“This is our bathroom now, Ratio. We’re a community, you and me.” 
“It’s ‘you and I.’”
“Exactly! You and I, a community. You’re getting the hang of it now.” 
Veritas sighs, surrendering any potential of a relaxing evening to your whims. This is, unfortunately, how it usually goes, and he has yet to make a real effort to stop it. A voice in the back of his head taunts him because at his core, he has zero desire to stop it at all. 
“Come on,” you keep babbling, threading your fingers roughly through his already-damp hair. It’s not a pleasant sensation at all, and he winces and holds back a pained yelp. “It’s kind of like going to a spa, or whatever. I’m trying to pamper you. Be grateful!” 
“There’s nothing to be grateful about when you’re trying to scalp me,” he could push your hands away easily, bat you off and make you leave. Instead, though, he gives you a minute to tame your inelegant movements into something gentler. He hears the sound of a bottle uncapping, and then your hands are back on his scalp, lathering honey-scented shampoo into the layers of his hair. 
“Is this better?” you ask cheekily, tracing circles in his hair, digging your fingertips in and scratching just a little bit, hard enough to feel it but light enough that it’s still soothing. Veritas sighs through his nose, deep and heavy and sinking back into the water. There’s no mocking retorts, no quips, no sarcastic tone, just the even cycle of his breathing and the rhythm of his heartbeat thudding in his ears. If he tries hard enough, focuses enough, he can hear yours too, but it makes his stomach twist with an uncomfortable, unnameable feeling. 
In your bundle of things that you brought, there’s an empty plastic cup, and you use it to scoop water from the tub and rinse the foam from his hair. Veritas feels wholly exposed, for obvious reasons among others, and the urge to kick you out still sits heavy in his chest. Right next to it is a warmth, though, something holding his sensibility hostage, something that finds this more comforting than it would be if he’d sat in the bath until the water went cold, all alone, without your hands washing his hair clean of oil and grime and the weight of his research. 
You break him of his reverie, but the sudden sound of your voice isn’t as intrusive as he anticipated. “You know, you should start using this oil thing for your hair, I got it from one of my coworkers,” by now, his hair is completely rid of any remaining shampoo, and your hands are rubbing a thin layer of conditioner into the ends of each strand, “and it’s supposed to help your hair grow. I think you’d look great with long hair, Veritas, don’t you agree?” 
“What, do you think about that often?” It’s supposed to be something snarky, something to shut you down before you dig too deep, but you never catch the hint—it’s your best and worst quality. 
“Maybe,” you admit, heft in your words, a density that needs to be cut open and examined. He’s good at that—good at looking and prying, but he’s the worst if he’s next to you. You’re nowhere near as thorough of a researcher as him, but he thinks (with a sense of embarrassment) that when the subject is him, you’re the most qualified person around. “Wouldn’t it be nice? With your hair all down to your shoulders, maybe. And if you really think it’s a hassle to take care of, I’ll just do it for you.” 
He’s perfectly capable of taking care of his own hair, thank you very much, but the idea of having you wash it for him, brush out the tangles in it every other day is appealing to a starving man like Veritas. He aches, and the skin at the nape of his neck itches. 
“You’re saying nonsense,” he says, and he can feel the way his brow has tightened and he instinctively goes to chew at the dead skin on his lips. “My hair is perfectly fine the way it is.” 
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” you respond, “just giving you options.” Your hands finally leave his hair, and suddenly the water in the bathtub feels frigid and icy, and Veritas represses a shiver. “Your hair is squeaky clean. Now, get out of the bathroom! It’s my turn to hang out with the rubber duck.” 
“Would you—?!” Veritas turns to glare at you, but the impish grin on your face makes him falter. You’re incorrigible. “The duck isn’t mine! And you have your own bathroom. Stop invading my space.” 
“Sigh,” you say aloud, because you’re corny and theatrics are written into every part of your personality. “Oh, grandest Ratio, I really did think we were friends, but you wound me so deeply! All this time has meant nothing to you! All this new shampoo that I bought just for you, gone to waste…” 
“For gods’ sake,” he mutters, reaching for a set of pajamas that you’d so conveniently taken from his own dressers and brought with you while on your mission to wash his hair. “Turn around so I can get dressed and then you can use the bathroom. So annoying.” 
“Not annoying enough to kick me out, though,” you say, and you’re completely right, and Veritas will admit that one day, but certainly not today.
—°+..。゚。゚+.*.。.—
gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin @hanyi-writes
275 notes · View notes
splataii · 2 days
Note
thigh fucking with ayato to relieve his stress from work so he bends the reader in his desk while degrading him (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡
ayato x reader
cw: domtop character, subbottom reader, degradation, minor feminization (use of the word cunt), minor voyeurism, minor sir kink, petnames
lmk if i miss anything!
<3
“sir.. please,” you squirm under ayato as his body keeps you bent over his desk, hand on the small of your back as he feels around for a small bottle in his desk.
“what? this where you want it?” he smiles as he traces a finger up your exposed hole watching as it winks back up at him, leaning back to spread the lube all over it, “in this slutty cunt a yours?”
“‘m not a slut..” you slur, biting back a moan as he laughs, your face too cute to ignore. i mean your body is practically jumping at his touch while your poor cunt tries to take his fingers in, desperate to be filled.
it had been another regular day in the office before you were called up for another one of your lil “private meetings”, the angst on his face clear as day the moment you stepped through those grand doors.
the man is in desperate need of an actual break, what with the commission beating down his door 24/7, and ayato couldn't think no one better than his favorite boy..
his boy, to give it to him.
you were just made to take him. your desperate whines and moans music to his ears as he slowly jerks off your sad cock, spreading the lube all between your thighs and back up to your eager hole. honestly, he can't imagine how he ever makes it through the day without you
if he could just pay you to look all pretty bent over his desk, filling that pretty boycunt a yours up like it deserves to be filled, he'd do it in a heartbeat.
“oh, puppy, look at you,” he coos sweetly in your ear, his dick jerking against the curve of your ass as he bends over to take your dick in his hands, dirtying it with your precum, “this is all it takes to get you wet? a whore like u cant go two minutes without having his hole stuffed, hmm?”
your ass perks up to his touch on instinct, rutting against him for some friction on your rim. you needed him inside you so bad.
“no baby,” ayato hums, small frown on his face as he presses his finger into the skin of your hip to hold you still, “none of that,”
his hard cock slides in between the warmth of your lube slick thighs, groan escaping his lips as you clench around him from the sensation. your hips stutter as you rock against him, the feeling of his cock against yours just too much to handle.
“what a slutty little ass you’ve got,” he gropes, “what did i tell you?”
“please,” you shake your head, hole winking up at him everytime he prods, begging for any sort of attention, “please put it in, please sir,”
and you make it so hard to resist what with the sweet way his name falls off your tongue.. but only good dogs get treats he reminds you, all gentle smiles as he runs his hands down your back and squeezes at your thigh, finally starting to fuck you in earnest.
“stay tight. don't let up till i finish,” he grunts, keeping you bent over his desk as your hands grip onto the edges of the table in an attempt to keep balance against the smack of his hips against your ass. the tip of his dick pokes through your thighs as he uses them like a fleshlight, spreading his pre all over you and the underside of your abandoned cock.
ayato's all up on you, chest pressed against your back as he groans in your ear so you can know personally just what you do to him. it has you fucking yourself back on his hard cock, begging for him to just touch you already, but the sudden ringing of his old desk phone distracts you.
ayato reaches for it, your eyes widening as you glance up at him shaking your head, but he just holds a single finger to his lips before sliding the phone onto his shoulder, giving his fingers full freedom to slide back into position on the small of your back as he slows his thrusts to a slow grind of his dick. you've got nothing to worry about, really. he's gonna make sure to fuck all those useless thoughts out your pretty little head all the same.
“yes?” he doesn't do much to hide the annoyance in his tone, his hands pressing into your warm skin, using you like some cheap toy as he forces you to stay down and take it.
“two pm? no, cancel that, thank you. yes i’m sure,”
it feels like his stupid talk could go on for forever, but he still manages to stay cool on call as he draws the softest moans out of you, pulling out from your thighs to see how you flinch when he slaps his dick across your unused hole, lightly tapping the side of ur ass so you can arch for him some more just like a good toy should. it all has your mind falling away, uselessly rutting yourself back onto his cock as he plays with you, making sure to stay all pretty laid out on the desk for him.
“i’m a little busy at the moment,” he leans down to press a kiss on your shoulder as he squeezes at your ass, voice almost a low whisper, “isn't that right?”
all you can do is nod your head, body too hot and aching to say no. so thoroughly fucked out you don't even notice hes ended the call already, phone disgarded somewhere on his desk as he picks up his pace again, watching his cock dissapear into the folds of your thighs as his free hand reaches around your middle.
“gods, youre so fucking filthy, look at you,” he laughs, pinching at the head of your cock, spreading your pre all over his fingers, “you really get off from being used like that?”
“‘m not,” your words break off what with the way your body betrays you, thighs clenching as he starts jerking off your pathetic cock,
“i wonder how everyone would react,” he leans down to your level, lips warm on your ear as he keeps his hand tight around you, “if they saw how wet you get from just the touch of my fingers,”
you rut back into his hand, silently begging, but he keeps his touches light, laughing at how desperate you get.
"use your words, puppy," he gently hums before squeezing your chin in his hands and forcing your mouth open with his fingers. his face is so close to yours you can feel his words on the skin of your neck, but his body keeps you pinned against the desk stuck from facing him, "cmon, tell me what you want,"
“please, sir,,” your body jerks as you cry, way too focused on chasing his hand. the feel of his fingers tracing over your tip, the rhythmic sound of his skin on yours, it leaves your head too empty to think of anything but release.
“a slut like you can do better than that”, he moves his hand from your dick, the smile on his lips clear as day as he listens to your incoherent moans, rubbing your mess all over your tummy.
“please let me cum, please,”
you can feel the smile on his lips as he takes your wrists in one hand, lifting you from his desk and exposing your fucked out body to the empty office.
your head falls back against his chest, body almost giving out when he finally takes your cock in his hand and finally gives you what you've been begging so prettily for.
“that’s it, let it all out,” your legs shake as you jerk your hips to try and match his pace, head too dumb to do anything but whine as you finally cum, voice caught all up in your throat, ayato's lips on yours silencing you as he finishes all over your thighs, and you all over his hand.
323 notes · View notes
latenightdaydreams · 2 days
Note
König thought
Him walking past a recruits' room, hearing them moaning his name.
Honestly think he'd go a little feral if their begging for him to let them cum.
😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 König would absolutely die if he heard this.
Late Night Walk (fem)
MDNI🔞
Master List
>cw: fem/afab, voyeurism, masturbation
1.0k word count
.
.
It was way past midnight and König couldn’t sleep. He put on grey sweat pants and a tight black shirt, his sniper hood over his head as he leaves his room. The halls are quiet as he walks along, only the sound of his footsteps filling the empty space. Turning the corner, something catches König’s attention.
A tiny pathetic little moan; his cock instantly tingles. He slows his steps so that they can’t hear his footsteps and accidently interrupt them. He hears them whimper his name. A small little “König” and he feels like his mind is melting. He walks close to your door, realizing it’s you. His jaw drops. You? He had no idea someone like you could desire him. You’re so…perfect.
He hears small wet sounds, most likely the sound of your small fingers going in and out of your tiny cunt. Fingers so small, they probably aren’t even pleasing you. Just one of his fingers would probably fill you…
“Mmmm, König, please.” You moan from your bed.
König’s eyes flutter as he hears you moan his name again. He quickly looks around the hallway to make sure no one else is around. Once he is sure he is truly alone, he slips a hand under the band of his sweat pants; his hand grasping his cock. He presses his ear against your door to hear things better.
His large calloused hand wraps around his leaky cock, pulling back his foreskin before rubbing his palm around the tip. His breath shutters from the pleasure. He closes his eyes and focuses on your sounds. His hand grips himself tightly as he begins to stroke his cock. Picturing in his mind that he was fucking your pretty pussy instead.
He has an overwhelming urge to knock on your door and just go in and fuck you. You’re literally moaning out to him, yet he can’t seem to find the nerve to. You’re a recruit and he is your Colonel. That would be breaking the rules, but fuck that cunt sounds deliciously wet.
Pumping his fist over his cock faster as he hears your little fingers begin to move faster. Your moans becoming slightly louder and more intense. You’re getting ready to cum. He listens intently.
“König, please, I need to cum.” Oh fuck, his brow furrows as he stops breathing. “Please, make me cum König.”
My god how he wishes he was the one making you cum, not your pathetic little fingers. His cock would ruin you for any other man, you’d be his forever; addicted to the way he fucks you. You’d never have a lonely night again.
Eyes closed and three fingers deep into your pussy, you’re imagining König’s massive body over yours. Legs spread wide apart to accompany his body, three fingers because you know his cock would be fucking massive. The man is a behemoth. You imagine him relentlessly fucking your cunt until you wouldn’t walk. You’re close. Moaning out to the König you’re envisioning.
“Please, can I cum Colonel?” Your free hand moves to rub your clit.
Please cum for me. König is losing his mind. Begging him to let you cum, calling him by his rank. König bites his tongue to stifle his moans as he begins to jizz in his pants. He couldn’t hold on any longer.
On the other side of the door your moan out in a soft melody, thanking König for fucking you. König in disbelief of what just happened, quickly snaps out of his lust trance when he hears you get up from the bed. He withdraws his hand and wipes it on the side of his sweat pants.
With a wet spot on his pants, he quickly and quietly turns and goes back to his room. Quickly changing out of his cum covered bottom, he gets into bed, excited to see you tomorrow.
The next morning you had training bright and early. You got showered, dressed, and ate before heading off. Once entering the room, your eyes instantly go to König, like always. Except this time, his icy blue eyes were already on you. Instantly you blush and look down to the ground. König smirks under his mask and continues to watch you.
As recruits are filing into the room König takes the time to slowly approach you from behind; he can’t stop replaying you moaning out for him in his mind. He towers over you and stands closer than he has to. You smell wonderful, he wonders how your pussy smells.
Feeling a presence behind you, you turn. Jumping when you see König. He just looks down at you for a while not moving.
“Hallo,” Why am I so fucking awkward?!  
“Hello, Colonel.”
“How are you today?” His voice is stoic, hiding the lust he feels for you.
“I’m well sir, yourself?”
He nods softly, his eyes dropping from your eyes to your soft lips and then back up. He is thinking about kissing them, wondering how you taste. Imagining what they would look like wrapped around his fat cock. “I’m also well.”
You both stand awkwardly, both wanting to say something but not daring to say anything. Instead, you gaze into his blue eyes and take in his true size and smell. As he studies your face, trying to imagine how it looked when you were moaning out his name.  He was going to find out. Leaning in a little more so he can whisper in your ear, his proximity sending chills down your spine.
“You know, Liebling, if you were to ever find yourself unable to sleep again…my door is always open.”
König leans back and looks down at your stunned expression, clearly embarrassed but he can see the excitement building behind your eyes. He simply turns around and walks away, as if he was totally chill about this. In reality he can’t believe he just did that. His heart beating a million miles an hour and face bright red, but the mask hides it all.
He only hopes that you take him up on that offer.
277 notes · View notes
taestefully-in-luv · 2 days
Text
Summer Heat
Tumblr media
Summary: You run into your ex Taehyung at a bar and go home with him just to keep hanging out. But perhaps Taehyung wants more. And so do you.
Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader
Genre: exes au, exes to lovers, fluff, smut. 
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, dialogue heavy, communication, fingering, mention of oral, unprotected sex.
Notes: An exes to lovers Taehyung drabble request!!!! sorry it took so long...hope you enjoy anon! (and whoever else hehe)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Why did we break up?”
Did he ask that? Or did you? You aren’t sure who asked that. You just know that it’s been asked by one of you. The question floats in the air, the words growing bigger until they pop next to your ear. Your stomach stirs uncomfortably when the words echo a little, and finally, you realize it sounds a lot like your voice. You gulp.
“You don’t know?” Taehyung leans against the door frame, wood creaking before his arms cross over his chest. “If you don’t know then I definitely don’t know.” He suddenly smiles.
You’re wondering how you two ended up in his guest bedroom at his house. How you find yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, a towel neatly folded in your lap as you wait for Taehyung to leave the room so you can shower. You glance at the dresser where his clothes lay on top, ready for you to borrow. Wearing his clothes is… 
“Sorry.” You look down, “I shouldn’t have asked honestly.”
“Why not?” His voice is teasing.
You look up again, “Because we spent the whole night talking about how the past is the past and I don’t know, it just felt nice to hang out. I don’t want to ruin any,” You motion your hands in the space between you, “Like…vibe we got going on.”
Taehyung laughs, his back relaxing more against the wall. “It has been fun, right? Who would have thought I’d run into you tonight.” 
“I can’t believe its six in the morning.” You glance towards the window, a dark blue sky beginning to light up. “Thanks again for letting me crash here.”
“I’m the one who insisted we stay up.” Taehyung stretches his neck, a small smile still on his face. “We had, what was it? 5? 6 years to catch up on?” 
“Something like that.” You smile back, shrugging a little. “Lucky tomorrow is Saturday and we don’t have to work.”
Taehyung gazes at you, the softness in his eyes hard to miss. “I think I would have stayed up no matter the day of the week.”
Your stomach tightens, “Oh yeah?”
“So why did we break up?”
He asks this time. The question now echoing in his voice.
“I don’t know really.” You answer, “We weren’t ready?”
Taehyung separates his back from the door frame, his legs taking him to the end of the bed where he sits next to you. “We were young?”
“And not ready.” You emphasize this time. “Right person, wrong time.”
“So are you going to let me know when it’s the right time?” Taehyung asks you, his voice quieter as he looks ahead. “Because who knows, maybe it’s still right person.” His eyes slide towards you, curiosity sitting in them. 
You can’t help but quietly gasp to yourself, his curious eyes sharpening the more he gazes at you. You’ve been wondering all night. You’ve been wondering if there’s still something between you, especially because something electric has been bringing you closer the past few hours. But you didn’t know if it was your imagination. 
Taehyung’s gaze drops down to your hand that rests against the mattress. His eyes trail up your bare arm and it feels as if his fingertips are grazing your skin. 
“You think we’re still a good match?” You breathe out your words, your eyes falling to Taehyung’s bottom lip. “Or do your interests only lie in getting laid tonight?”
Taehyung’s eyes grow round, shocked at first before he chuckles, “Can it be both?”
You bite back another smile. “Maybe.”
It’s been five and half years since you and Taehyung called things off—well, since you called things off. In your eyes, it really was right person, wrong time. You aren’t sure if Taehyung agreed at that time because you didn’t really give him the chance to. That still stings a little. Probably more for him than you but seeing how lighthearted he’s been all night, you guess he’s over it.
Are you over it?
You kind of have to be.
“I remember you being a really good kisser.” Taehyung’s fingers crawl over to yours, his skin warm as he subtly touches you. 
You bite down onto your bottom lip, another smile forming. “So this is about getting laid tonight.”
“Not at all. But maybe a part of it.” Taehyung taps his fingers before weaving them through yours. Then he pulls back. “But if you don’t want to do anything…”
“Who said that?” You find his dark eyes, “I might just be teasing you.”
“You’ve always loved teasing me.”
“Maybe I still do?”
“So, some things haven’t changed.” He teases back, shaking his dark hair from his eyes. “I wouldn’t mind if some things were still the same. There’s some things I’m hoping are very different though.”
“Like what?” You can’t help but ask, your hand sliding closer to his again. 
“One, I hope you stopped being such a picky eater. And two, you let me have an opinion about us.”
You feel that sting. It shouldn’t be you who feels it but you do. “Us?”
“Yeah.” He hums, his fingers suddenly between yours again. He leans closer to you, “I want to decide things too.”
“Like what?”
“Like,” Taehyung naturally grows closer to you, his body suddenly pushing up against your side when he leans down and presses his lips against your bare shoulder. “If I should be in your life or not.”
You slowly close your eyes when you feel his warm breath before he places a kiss on your shoulder. Then another. And another.
He continues, “Last time, you decided without me. This time I want a say.” Another kiss.
You feel your stomach turn upside down, his lips confusing you while his words make you feel guilty. 
“Taehyung.” You say his name, your voice uncontrollably insecure. “Are we talking about this now?”
Another kiss. “No.”
You open your eyes, your back straightening when you feel his arm wrap around your waist. It feels good and familiar. Yet you aren’t sure how to react.
“Is it crazy to say I’ve missed you?” Taehyung sighs out, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “It is, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have thought about you so much in these last few years.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
Your stomach flops again, but this time you feel intrigued. “What did you miss? Me? Or my lips? My mouth? My—”
“—Can’t I say everything?” Taehyung lifts himself, his eyes urging you to look at him. He stays close. “I missed your overthinking too, believe it or not.”
Your lips curl at the thought, his teasing working. “Oh yeah?”
“But I missed your hugs the most. When we hugged earlier…I swear I wanted to give you me right then and there.”
“Your vodka sodas make you chatty, don’t they?”
“Oh yeah.” He chuckles, “You aren’t used to it, right?”
“Considering you didn’t drink when I knew you, no. But it was fun drinking with you tonight.”
“You got kind of chatty too.” Taehyung decides to create space between you both, his body suddenly laying back on the bed. “Never been in love with anyone else since me?” He sounds proud. “Feels like that should have taken longer to admit—”
You hit his thigh with your fist, embarrassment hot on your neck. “Shut up, I didn’t think it was a big deal. Also, it’s the truth and I can’t change it.” 
You’re turned to eye him, but you quickly look away before laying down yourself. You keep your hands together, resting on top of your stomach.
“I’m not sure I’ve really been in love either. Maybe. Maybe not.” Taehyung tells you. “I’ve definitely thought about you over the years though.”
“Like what?”
“Your mouth—”
You hit his thigh again.
He laughs this time, “Okay, okay. Like for example, I saw someone eating skittles a few weeks ago and it reminded me of you. How you eat them all except the purple ones.”
“I still don’t eat the purple ones.”
“Great.” Taehyung huffs out dramatically, “You’re still picky.” He turns his head towards you and you do the same, meeting his eyes. Your stomach flops again when he smirks at you. “Somehow I missed that, too.”
“Liar,” You can’t help but laugh. “You—”
“We still click, you know?” Taehyung cuts you off, his gaze sharp again. “I’d like to hang out again. But not as friends or anything…as…I don’t know,” He turns his head, eyes on the ceiling while he smiles sheepishly. “I want to see if we can make this work. Possibly.”
“Vodka sodas make you so loose-lipped.”
“Thank God, too. I’m saying all the things I want to say so I’m thankful for it.”
“Well….” You turn your body towards him, lifting yourself on you elbow, “What else do you want to say?”
“You’re very pretty. And I want to kiss you.” Taehyung mirrors his body to yours. He looks confident as usual but you see the nerves in his eyes. “I’m not kissing anyone else at the moment, if you’re worried about that.”
“I wasn’t.” You weren’t. 
Taehyung has never been known for being a player, or messing with more than one girl at a time. If he’s showing interest in you then you know you’re the only one.
“I’ve been single for like 8 months already.” He tells you, “So I’m clean, too.” 
“I…yeah, it’s been a little while for me too.” You glance towards the open door, “But also, you sound real hopeful this is going to go in your favor.”
“Please.” He playfully rolls his eyes. “I know the way you’ve been looking at me all night. Catching up has been nice but there’s more going on here, right?”
He’s right.
“No.” 
“Now you’re the liar,” Taehyung smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “But like I said, we don’t have to do anything. But I still want to see you again.”
You’re both sat up on your elbows, the distance small between you before you decide to be brave.
“Can I kiss you?” You ask.
Taehyung blinks at you for a moment, his dark eyes surprised. 
“Just a kiss.” You assure him, your lips curling into a smirk. “One kiss.”
Taehyung holds his breath, seconds that feel like minutes pass. A small laugh finally leaves his mouth and his eyes fall to the bed. “Why am I suddenly nervous?” He admits. “As if I forgot how to kiss.”
“You were so confident earlier?” You tease him but you were positive you saw the nerves in his eyes and you were right. 
“I think the vodka sodas helped and they’ve worn off at this exact moment.”
“How convenient.”
“It really is, isn’t it?” 
You stare at Taehyung, his eyes going from yours to the mattress every few seconds before the strap of your tank top slides off your shoulder and his eyes glue to that extra inch of skin. It was a hot summer night, and a white tank top with some shorts is all the night called for.
You didn’t think you would run into Taehyung at a bar neither of you have been to. A night out with a couple of friends that happily ditched you to catch up with your ex. 
“Why did we break up for real, y/n?” Taehyung’s eyes are back on yours. “I know but sometimes I doubt and question it.” 
“Still?” 
“You expect me not to?” He laughs a little but his voice is now the one that sounds uncontrollably insecure. “I was in love with you for so many years of my life. You were my best friend…”
You feel a sharp poke in your heart. 
“I know.” You decide to sit up, your body slumping over a little. “I’m sorry.”
And you are. You’ve wanted to apologize for years. 
“I know you’ve been sorry since the day we broke up.” Taehyung sits up too, his side pushed up against yours. Suddenly space isn’t necessary. “Don’t feel bad. I just want to hear you confirm your reason.”
You glance at Taehyung, eyes studying him. “I got scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“That I didn’t know myself yet. That it would have been better if we were older…more mature. I should have just talked to you. But I thought you’d agree. I just…” You stop, ripping your eyes away from him. “Wanted to make it easier for both of us at that time.”
“Okay.” Taehyung nods to himself. “It wasn’t because you stopped loving me?”
“No.” You don’t find the courage to look at him yet. “I still loved you.”
Taehyung bumps into your shoulder with his and you hear the lightness in his voice again. “We’re older? More mature? You think we could look at one another the way we did before?”
You straighten your back again. “You really want to try this again?”
“I really want to kiss you at the least.” He sounds teasing once more. “But yeah, I’d love to continue getting to know you and see where this might lead.”
“I offered to kiss you already but you chickened out.” You bump into his shoulder now. 
“I know.” He laughs, “But turns out I did want to have the conversation now. Kind of want to kiss you even more now because of it.”
“Then kiss me now, if you want.”
You’re older now. More mature now.
Yet you’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, towel still folded in your lap, eyes on the floor and nerves surrounding you both.
Taehyung’s breath leaves his mouth in a warm puff and you feel it glide over your bare thighs. His nerves make you brave. You grasp the towel in your hands before placing it next to you and you turn your head towards the man you used to love. 
He mirrors you, eyes still unsure. 
“You’re cute.” You murmur. “And—”
Taehyung leans in closer, his eyes stuck on your lips. “It’s okay, right?”
You nod.
The warm breath you felt on your thighs now lingers over your lips. It makes you stop breathing.
He comes closer, his hand softly landing on your lower back, fingers slowly digging into your tank top as he grows closer and finally, you feel the skin of his lips touch yours in a kiss that becomes firmer the longer he stays. His kiss is so familiar that it will haunt you later. 
Taehyung detaches for only a moment, catching his breath before he leans in again more confidently and you finally give him a response. Your lips slowly moving over his as you kiss him back, your hands sliding up his chest. So familiar. His tongue pokes out and you open your mouth just the slightest to grant his wish. You taste him now, and it’s also hauntingly familiar.
You feel your lower belly swirling and swirling, a tension growing between your legs and it makes you ache. You wish a few kisses didn’t make you this desperate already but when Taehyung feels your fingers slide up into his hair, he knows you desire more. 
His tongue explores more freely and you moan into his mouth, the sound quiet and soft but it creates a stirring in Taehyung’s pants. He can feel himself grow harder. So, he kisses you harder. 
You break away for a moment, lips wet and tingly. “You have a condom?”
“Already?” He asks, breathless. “Let me at least eat you out first.”
“I haven’t showered yet.” Your eyes slide to the side, feeling slightly embarrassed.
“I don’t care.” 
“I care.”
His hands go to your shorts, fingers fiddling with the button. “Fingers?”
You think about it for a second, thighs squeezing together at the idea. “Okay.”
And his fingers are quick to undo the button on your shorts, and he pulls down the zipper. You quickly wiggle out of them, kicking them off of you, while they land somewhere on the floor.
“Cute underwear.” He tickles the skin above the band with his fingers, before they slide lower and you gasp. He begins rubbing them over where you ache. Your panties grow damper and damper, making it easy for him to move your underwear to the side, and his fingers dive into your wetness. 
“Ah, Taehyung…” You become tense. Teeth digging into your bottom lip. “I—”
His fingers swirl over your clit, making you sigh out in content. They play here before he uses his middle finger to dive where you really want him. Finger massaging your entrance, before he adds another. Entering you, making you immediately relax once the moment you’ve been anticipating is over. He works to stretch you out, his eyes focused on yours, his tongue wetting his lips as he watches how you start to fall into a daze.
His fingers feel so good. They’re long and reaching the right places. He curls them, making you whine, head falling to his shoulder and he chuckles.
“Feel good?” He whispers, fingers working harder and all you hear is how they fuck into you.
You nod against his shoulder, a breathy laugh leaving your lips. 
“I want you…” You admit, “Now.”
His fingers stop moving, his head suddenly nodding quickly and he slides them out. “Yeah.”
Taehyung brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them proudly and you don’t have it in you to tell him to stop. He wanted your familiar flavor. So, it can haunt him later too. 
You stand, eyes on him as you take your tank top off. He stands too, helping you take off your bra and his eyes are glued to your chest, clouding over with lust. You reach for the bottom of his shirt and he helps you take it off his body. Shorts and boxers are next. You stare at his cock, the head of it throbbing and you feel your mouth water. Another time, you tell yourself. 
You finally slip off your underwear and you stand here, gazing at one another and you both become dizzy. 
“You’re so beautiful.” He tells you, hands reaching for your hips and he guides you to the bed again, laying you down. “I’ll show you what you’ve been missing.”
“Me too.” You tell him, breathless and heated. 
Taehyung crawls over your body and you feel how he moves his cock to enter you, moving slowly until he’s snug between your legs. You both sigh. Your walls tightening around him. He feels so good. And so familiar. He pushes himself further into you, your legs wrapping around his waist until you gasp to yourself, eyes shutting in contentment. 
“You feel…” You can’t finish your sentence.
“Yeah.” He agrees, sliding out of you before thrusting back in. He repeats this motion a few, slow times. Letting his cock get soaked and pulled into your sweet core. He can’t remember the last time he felt this entranced. Maybe it was with you. 
He starts fucking into you, the repeated motions are smooth and calculated. He’s trying his best to fuck you at the angle that is going to make you whimper. And he finally finds it. He moans into your neck, his hot breath making your skin moist. He starts kissing your throat. 
You feel yourself growing tighter and tighter the more he firmly pushes in. You’re going to cum. 
Taehyung starts thrusting faster, his kisses growing sloppy and he forces himself to slow down, his body trembling above yours. Oh, he’s really close.
“You’re so pretty…” He moans, his thrusts getting harder. “I fucking missed you, your pussy…everything.”
“Taehyung…” You wrap your arms around him, nails clawing at his back. “Fuck, just like that…I’ll cum.”
“Yeah. I know.” He smirks against your neck before he lifts his head and locks eyes with you. “Let’s cum together, y/n. Fuck,” His pace grows faster and you feel your insides crumble. He feels too good. 
“I’m gonna—” You choke on air when he thrusts particularly hard, pushing into you so deep it makes your stomach tighten. He fucks you so deep you wonder how you could go without this any longer. 
“y/n.” He chants your name, head falling into your neck again, whining against your skin and that’s all it takes for the band inside you to snap. You feel warmth gushing around his cock, dribbling out of you as you cum all around him and his hips thrust forward a few more times before he releases every drop of cum he can offer inside you. 
Your body becomes limp, legs falling from his waist as you catch your breath, silently laughing as the euphoria continues to overtake you. Taehyung laughs too, breathing heavily above you, his eyes shining with happiness. You can’t miss it. 
“We forgot the condom.” He tells you.
“I know.” You bite your lip, hiding another smile. You aren’t worried since you’re on birth control. “Maybe you can shower with me?”
He leans down to kiss you, smile all over his face. “Okay, and then I’m eating you out.”
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munsonsfairy · 14 hours
Text
🍒🐦‍🔥 LICK ME LIKE A LOLLIPOP • PAIGE B.
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warnings: fem reader, dom paige, strap on, paige receiving, clit play, fingering, 69, no description of reader but has hair to grab on to, lollipop is immortal, praise, aftercare
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to everyone in the room you were just eating a lollipop, but paige knew what you were doing. the way your lips puckered and licked the cherry candy made her think of the night before when you were on your knees in front of her.
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“aww, look how pretty you look with my cock in your mouth,” paige had a handful of your hair and fucked into your throat.
“fuck, rub your clit for me baby.” your body shivers just thinking about doing it again tonight.
at first you were not trying to give her a show until you noticed her staring at your lips. her licking and biting her lip made you want to see how far you could go until she broke.
you could feel her eyes on you the entire night. the silent eye contact had you squeezing your thighs. you could see the effect you had on paige but she was not breaking.
when the current song ended, you put your lips around the lollipop and moaned loud enough that paige could only hear you.
“keep playing your little game and see how far it gets you,” paige whispered against your neck then kissed leaving you wanting more.
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she had you sitting on your knees in front of her. she sat with her manspreading with her cock out of her pants.
the lollipop you once used to tease her with was in her mouth. paige leaned towards you to put her thumb in your mouth. you closed your lips around her and sucked while looking into her blue eyes.
“fuck, i don’t even need to ask you to do something. gonna show me what you were doing earlier?”
you nodded and swirled your tongue around her thumb. “let me see that tongue, ma.” paige slapped the tip of her cock on your tongue. your lips wrapped around the head of her strap to tease her. she smirked and licked her lips watching the show you were putting on for her. you relaxed your jaw and slowly pushed your head down.
her fingers tangled the back of your hair and slowly fucked up into your throat. she lets out a breath when she sees her cock fill your mouth. you look up and see her eyes dark filled with pleasure.
you gag around her cock making tears fall down your cheeks. “don’t cry you’ll only make it harder to stop, baby.”
you rubbed your thighs trying to release some pleasure from your clit. seeing her head thrown back with her hair a mess made you whimper around her cock.
“look at you so desperate. play with yourself, baby. want you to cum with me.” you pushed your panties to the slide and started rubbing your swollen clit. the pleasure plus paige rocking her hips into your mouth made you so dizzy.
she hissed and stopped, “sit on my face, i need that pussy in my mouth.”
you slipped your panties off and hovered over paige’s mouth. she slapped your ass and wrapped her arms around your legs to bring you right on her mouth.
“suck on this too, doll,” you suck the cherry red candy before her strap goes back into your mouth.
with every grunt that came out of her lips almost sent you over the edge. “just like that, baby. let me use that mouth, fuck.”
you rolled your hips on her tongue hitting your clit on the right spot. you felt yourself getting closer when paige used her tongue to fuck your hole.
her hands tightened around your thighs letting you know she was close too. her hips quickened making you gag around her cock. “are you close, baby?”
you could only nod and hum with your mouth full of her. paige used her thumb to rub your clit and her tongue to tease your hole.
“fuck, baby doing so good for me. gonna let me cum in that pretty mouth? i know you’ve been wanting all night.”
paige’s words and tongue make you whimper around her and send you over the edge. it doesn’t take her long to follow. she uses one had to keep your head down on her cock while she rides out her orgasm.
once she released your head, she tapped your thigh signaling to get off. you sigh as soon as your body hits the bed. “you did so good, doll,” paige kisses your forehead and lips with a soft smile. her blue eyes filled with love.
her praise always made your cheeks heat up. “how are you feeling?”
“fuuuuuck! i’m feeling so good baby,” she nestled into your neck and kissed up to your jaw to your lips.
she sees the lollipop in your hand still, “and for this, we’re going to need to by some more so i can see your pretty lips around it.”
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042502 · 2 days
Text
Owen // C. Sturniolo x Reader.
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SYNOPSIS: You have a small feeling of jealousy after seeing your boyfriend give guitar lessons to a pretty girl, he will fuck you hard to give you security.
WARNINGS: Jealous reader, Chris guitarist, rough sex, delicious touch, music band, among others.
NOTES: My first language is not English, so if you find any grammatical errors you already know why :) MASTERLIST!!
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You made your way to the front row, getting a clear view of the stage, with a nearly empty beer. After a few more minutes, the announcer introduces the band once more and the curtains slowly rise. He sees the drummer banging his sticks yelling "3, 2, 1!" and the music starts playing.
You were sweating from all the jumping, but it was still fun. Sure, the people around you bumped into you and at times made you want to yell at them, but it wasn't anything too dramatic. Chris managed to spare a couple of glances at you, nothing out of the ordinary. Oh and you couldn't forget the flashing lights and smoke coming out of the sides every time the tempo dropped, it really was a great performance.
After a few more songs, the band called it a night and everyone returned to their groups. You checked your phone for messages from your father, but that attention was quickly interrupted by a group of girls chatting behind you.
"Ugh, Chris is getting hotter and hotter!"
"I know, I'm dying to talk to him, but he's always in that room."
"I'm sure if you make a move towards him he'll bite you, you're super sexy!"
"Yeah! Believe me, He will sleep with any girl who talks to him, it worked for me!"
"Wait seriously? Girl, I don't believe you!"
"Are you serious? Show me the bracelet!"
You heard the girl in question jingling around the bracelet, that damn bracelet. It made your blood boil, it was so hard not to hit this girl. How could it be so easy? Why did he have to sleep with almost every girl here?
Before you could continue listening to these comments, you ran to the band's private room to join them.
"Hey! Did you like the performance?" Nate asked you, blowing a cloud of smoke in your face.
"Yes, it was definitely one of your best." You laughed nervously and there was Chris, sitting with a girl. Before you thought twice, you walked up to him and gave him a nasty look.
"Ma, this is lynn"
"Lynn...?"
"The girl I give guitar lessons to is a bartender here."
The girl was super hot, enough to worry you. He stood up to be at your eye level and smiled at you:
"Hello! Nice to meet you! Your boyfriend is really talented and a great teacher".
"Ahhh yes, it sure is!" You masked your face with a gentle smile and watched her move out of your sight so you could be alone with Chris. He motioned for you to sit on his lap and you obeyed, his hand moving up your thigh.
"Ma... Do you want to smoke outside... take a break from everything here? I know you said it's okay, but maybe some grass will calm you down."
"Sure, I'm fine, I promise Chris." You lied "That Lynn girl seems nice... and strangely close to you."
"I knew it, you're jealous."
"I am not."
"Ma she's just a friend, don't get any ideas."
"If you say so."
"Hey look at me."
You turn your head to look at Chris, his blue eyes practically glowing under the dim lights of the room.
"Nothing is happening, believe me", He reaffirmed with a sincere look, now moving his hand to the back of his neck. Trust him, he says, I have nothing to worry about.
"It's ok, I'll do it" You smiled and found your lips with his.
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"Be quiet! My dad is going to listen to us"
"Like I give a shit"
You laughed uncontrollably and the two of them burst into your room. You desperately clung to his clothes so he could take them off and he mirrored your actions. You lay on your back in nothing but your pink lace panties, being attacked by Chris's wet kisses. Your breathing grew deeper by the second as he caressed your breasts while kissing you hungrily. He began to gently pinch your nipples between his warm fingers as he licked and bit at your tongues, your low moans working as fuel for him.
After managing to leave hickeys all over your neck, he pressed his aching cock against your clothed clit, growing impatient with the idea of fucking you mercilessly.
"I want it... Chris" you whined, desperately clinging to him for as much contact as possible.
"What do you want, ma? Tell me," he growls, his voice husky and deep, his fingers hooking into your underwear.
"You, all of you"
You watch Chris smile seductively, dragging the flat of his tongue across your abdomen.
"How much do you love me...?" She teased, stretching her grip on your soaked panties.
"Really fucking bad" You moaned, and he kept his eyes on you as he took off your thong.
"Someone's wet" He chuckled as you felt his thumb press against your heat. Chris lowered his head and his thighs closed around the sides of his face.
You shuddered once you felt him kiss your folds a few times before eating you out, quickly swirling his tongue up and down and around your clit.
You were seeing stars, you grabbed a fistful of his black hair and humped his face in an attempt to come.
"Yes, yes~" You bit your lip feeling your face heat up with so much pleasure.
He grabbed your thighs to steady himself and began sucking on your clit, making loud popping sounds. You were too overwhelmed to even try to shut him up and instead let him do his magic.
He drew a moan from you once he stopped eating your pussy and buried his knuckles into the bed, lining himself up with your entrance. Your hands reach out to caress her cheeks, giving her a smile that made her cheeks redden.
"Can.."
And it was like he read your mind in an instant.
"yes"
"Owen~ Fuck!" You moaned as he suddenly slammed into you. He slid in almost effortlessly, given how wet you were. Hearing his name come out of your mouth drove him crazy and turned him on even more.
You felt his length brush against your velvety walls, and he looked at you as you rolled your eyes. You spread his legs wider so he could move his hips forward and hit yours.
The bed creaked, your skin slapped against his, and both of your pants were all you could hear. Your body would go numb and limp every time he touched your cervix. He quickly found your weak spot, making you meow shamelessly.
"Right there, ma?"
"Just there, Owen"
He began abusing your sweet spot, hitting you like you were all he had left. He was also starting to make noise with her moaning, which was weird. You made sure to keep your eyes on him and vice versa as you placed a hand on his face. He rests her head on your hand, drilling his cock deeper, beads of sweat gathering on her forehead.
"I'm coming, Owe... Can I please?" She pleaded at this point, unable to form proper sentences.
"Say it another time"
"Owen"
"Again"
"Owen~ oh my god... I can't, I can't"
"Cum for me, baby"
You arched your back, letting the orgasm course through your entire body. He pulled out too and came onto your stomach, throwing his head back and moaning softly. He held your trembling legs, leaving a trail of kisses all over your body and to your lips. Chris took a washcloth and cleaned you before pulling up his boxers and getting into your bed.
You hugged him under the covers, your fingers brushing his cold skin.
"Chris..." you murmured his name.
"Owen is fine, for tonight." He says and you hummed with a small smile, tracing a line down his chest.
Say.
Say it or you'll regret it
"I love you, Owen"
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NOTES: Remember to hit the heart and share it with your friends! Thanks for reading^^ If you want to be part of the taglist leave a comment!
TAGLIST: @luverboychris @alexandernvr @prisciliin @sturncakez @imwetforyourmom @hotreaderliin @tillies33ssss @sturnioloxlver
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rhadamanthes · 1 day
Text
Ice cream chillin. Sukuna x reader
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word count : 1k
warnings: food play(nothing gross) humping, biting, established relationship, missionary, oral play breeding kink
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You come back from the kitchen carefully closing the door not to wake your boyfriend up. Treat in hand you walk to the bed planting a sweet kiss on Sukuna's cheek and lay next to him your head at the foot of the bed facing the tv hanging on the wall. You unwrap the ice cream humming when it makes contact with your tongue. It was not a particular hot day but having a frozen treat sounded like the right thing to do. 
As you keep eating the sorbet you do not think it would melt that fast. You catch a piece of the ice cream with your finger putting it back in your mouth squealing at the fact you now have a drop down your chin. Before you can do anything to stop it from going further down you feel a tight grip on your jaw, from the side of your eyes you see Sukuna now wide awake, his eyes more crimson than you ever saw them. 
He then approaches his face to lick you clean off the trail. You close your eyes shut at his gesture his tongue is so warm. you take the stick heavy with the remaining ice cream out of your mouth asking him "Did i wake you up?" he huff taking the ice cream from your hands straddling you in a way that you can feel his crotch against your ass "did you ? sucking on that thing like a slut? i think that yes you did" he says tapping your cheek twice silently asking you to open up. And you do, which makes him let out a satisfied groan , pressing his nose into your hair and letting his free hand slide to your throat, grabbing it lightly. 
His hand that's holding the treat approaches your mouth filling it with what is left on the stick; you groan at the fact that he is pushing it so far in your mouth almost making you choke "now you're going to do it properly" he whispers, with your positions his voice his going straight to your ear making you blush and you body hot all over, already feeling the heat pooling at your panties.
Sukuna starts trusting the stick in and out of your mouth, smearing it all over your lips and making saliva drip at the corner of your mouth. You can tell that he enjoys what he is doing to you as he is grinding against your ass making you feel how he grows harder and harder.
Soon there's not a single drop left on the stick. Your boyfriend notices this and throws it somewhere in the room, you yelp trying to reach for it thinking the way he discarded it is gross. But he is quick to turn your body around, laying on your back now he pins you down with a kiss. A gross kiss his tongue is moving like it's searching to get all the flavour from the ice cream, gosh he is even licking  your teeth. 
Out of breath you push on his shoulder to break the kiss. the both of you are panting in each other's face and before you can say anything he bites your cheek not hard enough to leave a bruise but enough to sting. 
Sukuna's way of loving you is carnal, you're used to this so you're not really surprised when he starts biting down from your face to your chest harder and harder. with his hands he starts kneading at every part of your body slowly starting to undress you from the little clothing you're wearing ;a tank top and a coton short. You can't help but moan his hands are warm and so much bigger than yours, you're getting wetter too. He must feel it because he presses his nose right on your crotch and takes a deep breath "Sukuna!" you cry in embarrassment hitting his head lightly. 
Your boyfriend gives you a cold stare for your gesture, his hands still on your hips he gets them closer to your pussy and rip out your panty. you gasp in shock but don't react to it this time you guess that you deserve it. quickly getting rid of his sweat and boxer he starts stroking his cock in front of you it's fully hard and already leaking the sight makes your mouth water. Before you can make any move he spreads your legs wider and puts them at the side of his waist. He rubs his thick length up and down your entrance making you arch your back from the bed at the anticipation. Sukuna leans on his forearms giving you a chaste kiss before entering all the way inside of you making you moan in the process.
His head now rests in the crook of your neck, hands being your head keeping you in place,  you can hear him growling at the newfound sensation. He moves slowly at first making you frustrated, you claw at his back only making him louder. Sukuna's whole body weight is on you, you feel closer to him like that you feel safe. "Sukuna please" you beg in his ear digging your nails in his back a little more. 
Taking the hint he let his hands slide to your waist once again holding you tightly as he start pounding you into the mattress finally picking up his pace. you moan uncontrollably finally getting what you wanted. The friction of his cock inside of you drives you crazy. It feels so good tears start forming in your eyes you close them shut, gripping even harder on his back at this point you're gonna draw blood but you know he likes it. Sukuna alternates between giving you kisses and biting you softly, never letting his pace slow down pushing out your gummy walls.
The sound of you two fucking fills the room with heavy moans and squelching sound from how wet you are for your boyfriend added to the sensation you feel your orgasm building up quickly locking your legs behind sukuna's waist as you feel your release approching. taking his face out or your neck he hovers  you looking at your face he loves to see your expression when you are cuming. And you do, filling him with pride as you call his name with tears down your cheek.
He calls you a good girl while wiping the hair out of your face he is close too, keeping going until he finishes inside of you not caring to ask you if he can you always beg for him to fill you up not now your to limp, watching him eyes half close with a lazy smile hanging on your lips. Sukuna his panting slowly catching his breath he returns your expression. leaving kisses all over your face you hear him chuckle as he starts licking sweat off your forehead you grunt in disgust laughing a bit too. 
When the two of you catch your breath you kiss his collarbone softly. resting for a bit he then takes you to the bathroom cleaning you up a bit between soft kisses and head pat. making your way back to the bedroom you lay on the bed with a bag of chips as a snack, he is less likely to get carried away by that you think of chuckling to yourself.
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pandoraslxna · 3 days
Note
Congrats on 10 K ,Luna!We're all so proud of you,thank you for contributing to our whole community😊🎀
As for your asks,could I request 📝? I was thinking Neteyam being submissive (because I just love how you write him, especially in Unwinding Together and on the Cockwarming prompt from Kinkmas,that always makes me crazyyyy😩)
Here's a cake to celebrate!!🎂 So proud of you!!!
-🦅
Thank you so much, pookie!! I hope you like it 🥹🩵
Neteyam x female human reader, minors dni 🔞
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He has never seen a silk dress before, but great mother do you wear that little piece of tawtute [sky people] clothing well.
Neteyam closes his eyes and inhales shakily as you leave a red lipped kiss on his lips. The next time he opens them, it’s all darkness behind the fine woven cloth you’ve bound around his head, taking away his sight. Now your fingers are trailing down the exposed skin on his abs, lower and lower, before they suddenly stop and he lets out a whine. That earns him a mean little bite to his earlobe. It stings, but makes him quiet. The night has just begun, anyway.
The warmth of your mouth wandering from his ear to his throat makes him shudder, but he doesn't make a peep. He’s not ready for another bite... yet.
Five solid minutes of silence, safe for the sound of his heavy breathing as you kiss up and down his face, throat and collarbone, before Neteyam begins to hear something wet. By your following heady breaths, he realizes you must’ve started touching yourself, right in front of him. Silence falls again but is quickly broken when he feels your moist fingers against his bottom lip. "Taste", you tell him, and his tail whips against your mattress in excitement.
"You want more, hm?" You purr and he moans around your fingers, and that‘s all the approval you need.
Neteyam feels the silk of your thighs framing his head just before you push your wet cunt down harshly against his mouth. With one hand tangled in his braids, and one against the wall behind your bed to support your balance, you begin to ride him. His mouth sets to work immediately, tongue swirling around your clit, lips kissing and sucking wherever you guide him, and you let your head fall back as you enjoy the ride.
"Good- Fuck, N-Nete!" But then you push yourself away just as he's about to push you over the edge. The groan of protest earns him a tug to his tail, that has been trashing around right next to you this entire time. This time it’s enough to elicit a complain from his parted lips that you couldn’t quite understand.
"What was that?"
"Nothing", he mumbles, then hisses when you tug on his tail again, harder this time. A reminder of his manners. "Thank you, yawne. I'm sorry, yawne."
You reach behind yourself then, fingers slowly tracing the tip of his cock, dipping down to teasingly stroke the thick girth of his shaft. You can practically see him vibrating with the force of staying still, but you know he's strong enough to break the ropes around his wrists at any moment. He doesn’t, though. He just loves this game just as much as you, and he’s not ready for it to end yet.
"What do you want, Teyam? Do you want me to take you in my mouth, choking on you even while I deny you permission to come? Or does my filthy little pet want to get his dick wet, hm? Want me to ride you nice and slow, see how long it’ll take you to beg for it? What do you want? Speak." You command, squeezing especially hard around his base and he groans.
"I want... you, yawne." You giggle, oh so sweetly, as he stiffens in your hold. "Hmm, that's not an answer. Why don’t you show me, baby?"
The last thing you see before he rips those leather ropes to shreds and takes you, are his fangs poking out from under his slick covered lips as he grins at you. He’s strong, almost too strong and your heart races as he drills his cock into you in one fluid thrust. He still can’t see through that blindfold, but he has your knees over his shoulders and you sandwiched between him and the mattress.
"Take. It. Off." Though the pleasure coursing through your veins you finally figure out he’s talking about the blindfold. Pulling it down his face, you see the fire in his golden eyes a split second before his tongue is down your throat, probing and tasting as he fucks you hard enough to make you cry out. You cling to him, his cock brushing against your g-spot flawlessly as he slams into you like a jackhammer, all feral rage and passion. He bites down on your neck and you scream as your orgasm makes you tighten around him. He only follows after the final tremors of your orgasm have been forced out by his length.
When he finally stills, all cum successfully planted deep inside your core, he’s laying himself down on top of you, panting against your hair with his face buried against your throat.
"Did I please you, yawne?" He asks coyly, tail wagging behind his back in anticipation.
"God, yes," You respond in a hushed giggle, a little short of breath, "You did good. So good."
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colonelarr0w · 2 days
Note
I love your writing so much!!
Can I request some comfort Sukuna where he finally breaks down the walls around readers heart who has been hurt previously years before…reader made him wonder why they didn’t ever let him see them cry before and that bothered him.
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Sypnosis - Love wasn't for everyone, you had long since accepted that fact. But ... were you really okay with being alone?
Warning(s) - None besides mature themes and some foul language.
A/N - Oh my god I loved this request so much. Reader is definitely a little bit too much like me in this one, but it's okay because at least she somewhat fixed her issues!
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
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Love wasn't for everyone. 
That was a hard pill to swallow, but it was one that you had swallowed after so many years of being constantly disappointed. One after the other, it was as if the heavens above were taunting you. Either that, or they were punishing you for some heinous crime. 
Even though you wanted so desperately to experience what everyone else did; stolen glances, random flowers, gentle kisses, passionate sex, late-night dates … you had just come to the conclusion that no matter what you did, it just wasn't for you.  
And you were okay with that. 
Yet, it was annoying to then hear others come to you spewing their bullshit. 
"You just haven't met the one yet!"  "Don't worry, love will come to you when you least expect it." 
"Trust me. The moment that you stop looking for love, it comes to find you." 
"You're quiet," Sukuna says harshly, dropping his finished cigarette onto the ground and snuffing out its orange hue with the toe of his boot. Your head jerks upward, blinking for a moment before you clear your throat – you hadn't meant to fall into a daydream.  
"Hmm? Oh, no, I'm okay," you answer quickly, lifting your own half-finished cigarette to your lips and inhaling. You hoped that the smoke would ease your nerves, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.  
Sukuna's eyes roam over your figure, his mind taking notes on your expression and body language. Your eyebrows are pinched together, eyes flickering to look at anything but him, your lips are turned downward in a frown that he somewhat wishes would go away. Your shoulders are stiff, back standing as straight as a line. Your hands are shaking. 
"Tch," he clicks his tongue, turning his body and half-stepping towards you. His fingers close over your wrist, pulling the cigarette away from your lips. "You're a shitty liar." 
Your eyes cast themselves to the ground, embarrassment heating your cheeks. He falters, but he toes out your cigarette anyway, then turning to face forward again – he doesn't want to make you any more uncomfortable than you already are.  
"What are you thinking about?" he asks after a beat of silence, hanging his arms over the railing of your apartment's balcony. Your eyes flicker to him for a moment, silently admiring the way that the moonlight illuminates his face and the tattoos inked into his skin.  
"Nothing that would interest you." 
Not when it comes to you. Talk to me, he wants to say. But the words fall dead on his tongue. He doesn't turn his head to look at you, only humming in acknowledgement.  
Another beat of silence passes over you and Sukuna. It gets you wondering … did he even like being around you? After all, the only reason why he kept meeting you after work was because he had offered you a ride home. In return, you offered him cigarettes. A fair trade. 
"Interesting or not," he hesitates, biting his tongue, "'s not good when you keep all that stuff in." 
You freeze, hands tightening their hold on the railing as you stare out at the cityscape. Already you can feel tears beginning to gather along your waterline. You try your hardest to swallow them away, but nothing.  
"I-I said it was fine," you manage to choke out, trying to subtly wipe at your eyes. Sukuna notices … he always did.  
He reaches into his pocket for something, then nudging your arm with a handkerchief closed between his fingers. You take it, mumbling a quiet thanks before wiping your eyes with it. "I'm sorry." 
Sukuna doesn't answer, he doesn't have to. It's more of a silent understanding that yes, something is bothering you, but in your own time you would open up to him about it. Maybe it wouldn't be tonight, maybe it wouldn't be tomorrow … but eventually, you would.  
He shrugs in response to your apology. "Nothin' to apologize for." 
Another beat of silence passes over you both, this one more comfortable than the last. Sukuna reaches into his pocket, taking out the cigarettes that you had given him. He opens the box with his thumb, hesitating on taking another one out.  
You eye the box out of the corner of your eye … it was the only reason he even came into your apartment, wasn't it? 
To your shock, he drops the box off of the edge of the balcony, watching it through half-lidded eyes as it falls out of sight. You turn your head to look at him, finding him already staring at you.  
Neither of you say anything.    
One minute turns into two, two into four, four into six.  
"Y'know, I get the whole … wanting to be alone thing," Sukuna says, turning away from you so that he wouldn't have to look at your slightly pained expression. He leans further against the railing, gaze focusing on the blinking lights of a nearby billboard.  
"You can tell yourself all you want that you want to be alone," he finally turns to you, "but do you really want that?" 
You freeze, eyes wide like a deer that had been caught in headlights. Blankly, you stare at him, mind struggling to mull over what he had just asked you.  
Did you really want to be alone? 
"I-" You pause, swallowing the lump that had settled in the center of your throat. "I don't." 
With that, Sukuna swallows all of his pride and tugs you into his arms. You fold into him, nails biting into the back of his leather jacket – the one that reeks of smoke and of must. But at the same time, those two comforting smells remind you that right now, in this moment, you aren't truly alone.  
Do y'all want a part two of this? Or like a series of Sukuna and !Non-Trusting girlfriend? 
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mr-inkslinger · 1 day
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Arthur gripped your hips, he suggested this position, not really suggested. He mostly had lifted you off him the second you had clenched around him, he took advantage of your orgasm to reposition you. His hand held your hips, keeping you up. He gave the curve of you ass an affectionate pat. "You're alright.." His voice was soft, the roughness of it soothing your nerves as your thighs trembled. "Arthur.. please." You weren't even sure if you wanted a break or more, the please seemed to go either way. "You okay?" He mumbled, that rough hand that was always gentle with you smoothed up your spine to the nape of your neck as he leaned over to kiss your shoulder. You panted as you nodded, soft hairs stuck to your forehead. "Want more?" It took you a second to process what he was asking and before you even processed what you were doing, there was a faint nod. He smiled against your skin, "Atta girl.." Arthur had never ending praise for you. For even the simplest of things. A good job for eating dinner or waking up in the morning. Any act of living earned praised, you were his world. His girl. His everything. During these tumultuous times, he found solace in the tiny hotel room he was able to steal you away in. He was able to pretend it was all different. Maybe you two had a home or at least the gang wasn't falling apart.. he snapped out of it as he leaned back, bringing your hips up again.
He eased into you, a breathless gasp followed by a higher pitch moan left your throat. He kept your back arched with one big hand pressed between your shoulders as his other gripped your hip. His blunt nails biting at your skin, leaving little crescents. He wasn't being particularly gentle but nonetheless paused to catch his breath. Your velvet walls were clenching around him, almost painfully tight and too hot. He let out a throaty groan, it came from up in his chest. Almost a breathless noise. Arthur threw his head back, his fingers drumming on your back lightly. He huffed, pulling his hips back, he could feel how you suctioned around him, so he didn't pull out completely. He didn't was to lose that. He snapped his hips, grinning at your breath hitching, nice and loud. You had abused your pussy riding him, until she was puffy and soaked. He offered occasional help, but he mostly thrusted upwards to surprise you when he felt you getting close. He liked watching you do all the work, so it was time to return the favor. Each time he pulled out and rolled his hips forward, they got faster and stronger. He leaned over you, slowly pressing his chest to your back. It was strong and warm, damp with sweat and his hair soft. His hand flew to the headboard, caging you between one arm next to your head and his firm bicep. Built like a piece of sinewy lumber, strong and unmoving, he had you trapped. The noises coming from your dripping cunt were filthy. How could you be soaked for him? A tough, gritty man. A killer. An outlaw. A bad, bad, bad-
"Arthur..!" The way you squeaked his name caught his attention, he could feel your walls around him, shit, your poor pussy never caught a break. He could feel you clenching and writhing and your nails dug into his thick wrist. But he didn't let up, even when you were pushed forward by the sheer force of his thrusts. "Don't- run from me." He gritted out, teeth clenched, his head pressed to the back of yours. His arm shifted, his forearm pressed to the front of your shoulder, keeping you from jolting forward. You were ruining the sheets, his thighs were sticky and slick with you, his dick coated in your cream, his hairs frothy. He wasn't even attempting to quiet himself now. "God.. damn it." Your legs gave out without his hand holding you up, you pressed flat on your stomach, feeling the sheets sticking to your wet skin, beads of sweat sliding down the column of your neck.
"Look'atchu.. You're a good girl.." His praises deep and guttural, he pressed you further into the mattress. Your moans had progressed into soft screams, your face half hidden in your pillow, hair messed. His hand that wasn't white knuckling the headboard slid between the mattress and you, finding your clit. Poor thing was twitching at just the slightest touch from him. "There ya go.. Takin' me and lookin' so pretty.." His lips pressed to the crown of your skull, your hair tickling his nose. With just a few soft circle from his finger, he ripped another orgasm out of you, you soaked his cock while he pounded you into the mattress. You were a sobbing mess, choking on your words. A mix of please, Arthur, I can't do it and don't stop, harder, deeper. He liked fucking the brains right out if your pretty head. Feeling your cunt drenched him and constrict around him so perfectly, like your pussy was made to take his thick cock and keeping it nice and tight and warm, seated so deep within you, made his stomach taught. His own legs trembled at the way his release hit him like a damn freight train.
"Fuck-" he had no words, nothing to describe how it felt, rutting his seed deeper in you with his dick twitching. He collapsed, mind empty, body numb, nearly crushing you and keeping the wind knocked from your lungs. Your hand patted his head. "Good job.. I can't breathe." Arthur's laugh was soft, his eyes closed. "Sorry, sweetheart."
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Text
Nightingale 🕊
Dick Grayson x reader
《A/N》: first piece for Dickie bird!! Truthfully, I just whipped this up really quick for my dear friend @allysunny . There isn't much I can do, but I hope this helps a little bit <33
If it's too personal, let me know, and I'll take it down 🫶🏻
~Fi 🐝
《Content》: lots of comfort from Dick. reader is stressed bc of school work. Dickie being the best boyfriend 🩷
《Word count》: 1.5k
Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──☁️── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
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─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──☁️── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Not only the moon that hung high in the sky but the burning light of your laptop illuminated your face as your tired eyes ran over the words again. With a shaky sigh you closed the device and dragged a hand down your face before a frustrated groan left your throat.
Your forehead rested on your desk as you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to ignore the salty sting in your eyes and your closing throat.
"Stupid grading system, stupid classmates..." you forced through your tightened throat, hoping that your wrath and frustration would somehow reach your fellow students on a spiritual level and make them stub their toe or spill their hot drink.
Or accidently end up in crossfire from the many shootings taking place in Gotham. You weren't picky.
Your fingers threaded through your hair and tugged at the roots, trying to get the blizzard of feelings out of your chest.
Before you had any chance to stop it, a few hot tears of frustration trickled down your face, adding to the overwhelming state you were in.
The hard wooden surface of your desk started to hurt your head, pressing unpleasantly agaisnt your forehead. A dull and pulling ache ran up your neck as well, courtesy of the weird twisting position it was in. You couldn't find it in yourself to care, pulling at the strands of your hair.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
Dick sighed out in relief once he slipped through the window of your shared livingroom. Patrol wasn't too rough tonight, but he could feel the soreness in his muscle setting in.
A fair consequence after being a bit of a show off with his gymnastic skills.
Your warm apartment was a welcome contrast to the biting cold Gotham nights he knew all too well. Dick wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with you and be enveloped by the love that never failed to warm his heart.
He took his mask off his face and ran his hand through his black locks, trying to distract himself from his buzzing skin. The Nightwing suit felt all too tight right now and he couldn’t wait to get it off.
His eyes fell on the bedroom door, slightly ajar, and he cocked a brow. You should be asleep. He let out a sharp breath. He'd told you to sleep. But deep down he knew you'd be up and about the second you heard the window close.
"Stubborn girl..." he grumbled, albeit with a soft and worried intention behind his words.
You could see the door being pushed open from the corner of your eye as a big block of black and blue stepped in.
"Honey..." he said softly followed by a sigh after seeing your hunched over and distraught form at your desk.
"Hi Dickie." You replied, absolutely defeated. The feelings of anger and frustration had faded and left was only the deep sadness of being treated so unfairly.
"Hey, pretty..." his brows scrunched together, not liking how sad and tired you sounded.
"What's wrong, hm? 'Told you to get some sleep." He spoke quietly, prying your hands away from tugging at your hair and replacing them with his, gently petting your locks.
His touch made it even harder to fight the tears you've been trying to hold in. All you wanted was for him to hold you and make everything go quiet, even if it was just for tonight.
You stayed silent for a moment, Dick kneeling next to you.
"Got an e-mail about that presentation.." you explained, ready to break into tears at the mere thought of it. He gently turned your head so you could see him.
"Give me five minutes to get out of this suit and I'm yours, alright? You can tell me all about." He pressed a soft kiss to your temple and you nodded your head.
His comforting touch left you in the blink of an eye as he whisked off to the bathroom. With a quick rummage through his drawer, he was already prying at his spandex prison.
Luckily, he had nimble fingers and was back at your side within the promised five minutes, much more comfortable and ready to be your shoulder to cry on.
"C'mon, sweetheart. Let's get tucked in, yeah?" His voice was gentle and soothing, drawing you in like it always did.
Dick took your hand and helped you into bed, knowing well that you didn't need his assistance physically but that you needed to be cared for right now.
You were cuddled up next to him, wrapped in his embrace and your cozy blanket while he stroked your cheek. He frowned slightly at the couple of salty streaks that had ready dried on your skin.
"Are you okay to tell me what happened?" He asked carefully, not wanting to overstep. You took in a shaky breath.
"D'you remember that project I told you about? You know, that hig presentation with lots of other people?" He hummed in response, listening attentively.
"Well... they fucked it up. None of them were prepared, they were sputtering like a rusty engine- one chick even finished her text while one member was already presenting." You complained, feeling the distaste for such unreliable people bubble up in your chest once again.
"And now..." there was a slight crack in your voice when you spoke, making Dick holding you just a little bit tighter," they're dragging me down with them. I was prepared, I did good, but I get a shit grade too now. It's not fair."
You choked on the last word, finally letting the tears spill. You were already so overwhelmed with work, with things you needed to do that you had no time for, you didn't need a grade you needed to fix just because studying was such a foreign concept to some people.
"It's not fair, Dickie..." you cried, head resting on his shoulder with his head on top of yours. His heart cracked a little. You were such a hard worker, always going above and beyond to achieve your goals. Only to be dragged down due to a chain reaction.
"I'm sorry, baby, you don't deserve that. I know how hard you worked on that. Those assholes didn't even try.." he huffed, wiping at your ever flowing tears.
"A-And now the teacher sent an e-mail which is basically just her saying how disappointed she is and that we're doing terrible." You sobbed, needing all that stress to go somewhere. Dick maneuvered you even closer to him, stroking your back at a comforting pace.
"If anything, they're doing terrible. You did great, honey, okay? You'll figure it out. And I'll be here to support you, you know that. I'm sure you can contact the teacher and work something out. But I just want you to know- look at me.." he said softly, tilting your head to look at him. It pained him to be see you so upset.
He much preferred your pretty lips pulled up into a bright smiled instead of the wobbly pout with tear stained cheeks it was in now.
"I want you to know... that everything will be okay. You will be okay. I promise you." His voice was clear but quiet and soft as he gently bumped his nose against yours.
"You will be okay." He whispered, holding you tightly as you got the last of your sobs out and your breathing evened. They were sweet murmurs against your temple as he had you pressed against his chest, stroking your hair.
Dick held you as the moon shone through the window, he held you until it was covered by clouds and you were plunged into a grey darkness. He held you and wiped and kissed your tears away even as faint peak of colors emerged from the horizon. You were exhausted with puffy eyes as you laid in his embrace, the burden on your chest lightened for now.
You glanced up and saw how dark the bags under his eyes were, but despite that, he was still smiling down on you with a look so sweet and loving you could feel your teeth ache.
"How 'bout we make ourselves a cozy day tomorrow, hm? I'll read you Pride and Prejudice, we can have some cake, cuddle all day.." he trailed off, have of it in a slur as he struggled to keep his eyes open.
"I'd love that." You sighed with a sleepy smile, tangling your fingers together.
"You can sing for me, too.." Dick yawned, scooching further down the bed and tucking himself under the blanket, with you tightly held to his chest, of course. You giggled softly, craning your neck to press a kiss to his cheek.
"My lovely, little Nightingale..." he murmured, a dopey smile on his lips.
"I love you, Dickie bird." You said softly, bringing your lips to his in a sweet kiss before sleep took you away.
"I love you more, honey." He mumbled against your lips, content as ever, with his beloved Nightingale snug in his embrace.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──☁️── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
You're gonna be okay, I promise <3
More of my works --> 💫
《DC taglist》: @certifiedredhoodlover @allysunny @hellonheels-x @gaozorous-rex-blog
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aly4khq · 2 days
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✰⋆⁺₊⋆ - i always win. - ⋆⁺₊⋆✰
- xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ -
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today was you and xavier's day off. the wanderer activity lately has been very low compared to a few months ago, signifying that it's that time of year where you guys can take a little break once in a while.
in the fresh morning of april, a lovely tuesday, the sun shone through your blinds blinding you as your eyes opened. turning to the other side to wrap your legs around xavier, they plopped onto nothing. in concern, your eyes sprung open, you hands lifting your body up.
he was gone. but where? turning back around slowly, still infected by sleep, the light from your phone presented '8:15'. now in your how many years you've know xavier, he never wakes up this early unless it's forced (by you) or he has a very early mission do to at the base. stretching as you moaned from the feeling of the heat, your ear picked up the noise of the door opening.
there he was, in nothing but his boxers walking around the house as he sweats from a possible workout. smiling, you sleepily waved at him, too tired to be speaking. chuckling in return, he ruffled your hair before pecking your neck softly. moving your neck due to the tickly sensation, a small whine escaped your mouth.
"..why are you awake so early..?" your voice was tougher than normal, a slight rasp involved too. he tried to drag you out of bed properly but you resisted. he sighed.
"you know. it's actually not that early. i'd say 6 is early."
shaking your head no, you tried to pull him back into bed. your eve wrapping around his arm as you used your horrible morning strength to get him down. he watched you, just admiring you before you gave up.
"come on. let's shower together." he won the fight, grasping your hands in his as he kissed them, running around and kneeling down. he looked back, silently telling you to get on his back.
slowly and steadily, you shifted your body to his back, holding onto his neck your legs clinging onto his waist. he slowly rose to his feet, holding the bottom of your thighs to secure you tightly. walking to the shower, he tried to to wake you up more after hearing your cute little snores.
"hey hey hey! no more sleeping." you practically scoffed at his words, rising your head and biting the back of his neck.
"coming from you...master...sleepyhead..." a yawn separated most of your sentence even though he understood it all.
after making it to the bathroom, he placed you onto the toilet, making sure that you were leaning on the wall so you didn't fall. your tired eyes slowly tracked his steps.
putting the water on...grabbing a few bubble maker bottles...making sure it was warm...looked at you..
"come on darling. bath time."
holding your hands out to be carried, he used that to take your his shirt off leaving you only in your underwear. the soft black lace absorbing his light heart. you stretched as the morning sun started to wake you under before a sharp feeling came from your hip.
your eyes shot down to stare at xavier's long fingers snapping the side of your underwear against your skin before going onto his knees. his hand rushing up your thighs gently, caressing the soft skin.
"...xav...what r you doing.." your hands rested on his shoulders, his hypnotising baby blues trapping yours. he had his cheeky face on. his hand slowly pulling your underwear down. his fingers patting at the wetness of your pussy.
"so wet..this early baby?" he teased,biting your thighs as your head flew back, your hand covering your eyes. a slight giggle running out of you.
"for you of course. you can't be so hot and not expect me to- OH! my gosh-"
you gasped, instantly grasping at his hair. the sensation of his tongue fighting with your flaps, sucking harshly of the flesh as he pulled you closer by your thighs.
you whimpered, crying out as he continued to eat your out, harshly yet so deep you couldn't even breathe before he was back at it again. the digits of his fingers in you increasing by the minute. your legs clenching around his head as he sucked harder, his normally soft persian blue eyes now stern and dull.
"don't...move." he growled into your pussy, making sure you couldn't move as he went faster and faster.
" wait!- wait, baby please- xavier! i can't!!-"
you squealed trying to catch a break, you weren't prepared for this. your legs trembled violently around his head, your head nearly banging against the bathroom wall behind you by the force of his tongue.
"xavier i'm gonna-" the cool in your stomach was intense but he didn't slow down whatsoever, you squirmed and begged in his mercy. but he didn't stop. he wanted to see you squirm. he wanted to see you struggle to take the pleasure he was giving you.
suddenly, his face was coated in your liquids, and he didn't waste a single drop, if he wasn't always pussy drunk than this would be a different type of hungry.
after taking all of your results off his face, he went back to your core, desperately looking for more. taking every ounce of you into his mouth.
"okay! okay! we get it...we get it..." you huffed.
he picked you up, slowly placing you in the tub before situations himself right behind you making sure that your were stable.
"your pussy is such a delicious dinner, you know?" he whispered in your ear as you bit his hand softly.
"stop it..you're so cringe eww- ow!"
he pinched your side as you bit hi harder. soon enough, water was everywhere and you were scrapping inside the bathtub. slowly you gave up as he started tickling.
"OKAY! you win!-"
"see? i always win."
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do not steal my work even tho they are trash!
date made: 21-25/4/24
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st4rgzer · 3 days
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now playing…FORTNIGHT (spencer reid)
-“ˈfɔːtnaɪt: a period of two weeks”-
summary: in which your unlawful affair with fbi agent spencer reid must come to an end
genre: angst, flashback of fluff
cw!: allusions to cheating, kissing, inappropriate innuendos
a/n: this is acc so long but i promise its worth the read, first of many to come!
you watched as spencer methodically fiddled with his tie, a sign that no matter how loose he’d get it to be, it felt like he was choking. you grinned reminiscent, this had brought back to your mind the memory of your first date with him. except he had shorter, neater hair and a less bitter smile.
“how’s your wife” you said, pettiness laced in your words. your arms crossed over your chest, putting up invisible walls, distancing yourself mentally from him. pretending you weren’t thinking about how pretty he’d look under you.
“she’s…well.” he had given you a short, wary response. his eyes studied your face, landing on your lips, he licks his. most likely, he was trying to memorize everything, as if you were a fleeting moment. but you were. you were uncertain about his intents when his eyes wandered for a few seconds.
“how’s dan?” the word ‘dan’ came out with a petulant smile, and sour tone. flourishing the little likeness he had toward him.
the conversation bored you out of your mind. he was holding back. he could’ve said about a million things by now but he chose to keep silent, neglecting your tortured heart even more.
“i think he’s cheating on me, though im still not sure. but i have strong points on the subject, good reasoning” you say dismissively, looking down at your nails. the issue didn’t seem to faze you. after all, some could say you had committed certain behaviors that could allude as cheating.
spencer tried to bite back the grin that was forming on his face, he looked down to try and conceal it.
“i’m sorry about that…” his tone seemed untruthful. he wasn’t sorry about it, because he knew the things he’d done with you while both of you had a ring on your fingers.
you gnawed on your bottom lip. thinking of an ingenious comment that would make him laugh. a quip to start some friendly fire. something that could break through the crushing tension that lingered between the both of you, like thick vines wrapped around your neck, making you unable to speak.
‘i love you, it’s ruining my life’ was all that your brain could come up with, but of course, this wasn’t exactly the best thing to say given the setting and circumstances. but it was how you felt. you treasured every touch and every word, hanging onto every detail desperately. every fortnight that his wife would be out of town. it was unlawful, but, who were you to neglect an invitation with spencer reid? until then, your mornings are all mondays. stuck in an endless february. unable to move on from what should be yours.
you meet his gaze, regretting it almost immediately. knowing the lethal effects he had on you, like some sort of drunkenness that had turned you into a barely functioning alcoholic. his eyes change, his smile differs. he swallows, clearing his throat.
“we can’t do this anymore.” he speaks, his voice sounds brittle and unsure. you don’t break eye contact. you listen intently to his words.
“my wife…my wife knows that i don’t stay late at the BAU as much as i say i do.”
“im a profiler, i can lie but- it doesn’t take away from the fact that this can’t happen anymore.”
“i mean you know how i feel about you, i just- i just can’t keep up with the ruse. i love you and it’s ruining my life.”
your eyes widen at the last sentence, appalled. you tried to decipher spencer’s words. reading between the lines, seeking for some sort of clue that hinted towards the truth. if he loves you, why can’t he stay?
“okay…can we at least stay friends?” you ask him cautiously. even if it meant no more sneaking around, his eyes would at least stay in your life.
spencer swallowed harshly, your eyes lingering over his adam’s apple as he does so. he looks uncertain. you figure maybe his wife was the one with the real issue, not him. you wanted to kill her.
“sure” his voice was slightly above a whisper. he looked away. almost as if, if he continued to hold your gaze he’d had no choice but to give in. that’s what you wanted him to do, to cave in, like always. you wondered if this would be the last fortnight spent with him, and suddenly, realization hit you like a 10 ton truck. you looked down as well, confidence derailing.
“but you’re still my best friend, spence” your voice was nearly a whimper, sounding like a wounded dog. you look up at him with glassy eyes. tilting you head to the side slightly, eyebrows furrowed as you try to control your emotions. you look down, hands fidgeting nervously.
“yes, of course…we just can’t have those benefits anymore” he wants to do nothing more than to grab you and hold you in his arms. to say sorry for everything he had put your through. instead he looks to the waiter.
“check, please” he clears his throat and hopes the sound of his tearing heart isn’t too loud as you look up to look at him with tear rimmed eyes. you bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. spencer pays the tab, leaving a generous tip. you get up from your seat, incapable to look at spencer in the eye.
you don’t notice him stepping towards you. your breath hitches as you stare up at him, the closest you’ve been to him all night. his calloused hand cups your cheek, fingers tracing your face, to your under eye. you blink, cursing yourself internally as a tear slips. you look away. he sighs, wiping the tears carefully with his thumb.
“im sorry, you know what i’d do if i could…if things were different” his words are just more salt to fresh cuts. even if he sounded regretful, even if he was sorry, you still had the right to be sad.
“it’s fine, you aren’t mine, i shouldn’t be this sad” you harshly take a step back, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. his mouth stays slightly agape at your sudden movement. he bites down at his lip, sighing, admitting defeat. you were right, he was never yours and you were never his. two parallel lines who never got the chance to see what could’ve been if the circumstances were different.
he had corrupted you, nights that belonged to only you would fade into a memory. the touches that lasted a fortnight. the feeling of his hands in your hair, your clothes on his bedroom floor.
you loved him, and it was ruining your life.
“goodbye, reid” you tone was purposefully cruel, and the choice of using his last name. you looked at him for a second, fighting the instinct of kissing him as a goodbye. he stared with pitiful eyes as you walked away, bell chiming as you opened and closed the door. for a moment he regretted everything said, wishing to just run away and live in the mountains, to follow through on that quiet life you had both talked about when the night passed 3am. tangled in bedsheets. he curses his eidetic memory for remembering your tearful expression, comparing it to the soft, sweet smile you had on every time you left him. can he erase every curve, every dimple he knew you had, every tiny change in your expression he could read like a book, over and over? no, he will be cursed with the gift of knowing, just like you’ll be cursed with the sound of his voice. soft and tender, the sound of his whispers of foreign words against your ear.
“Я тебя обожаю.” his voice is quiet, nose brushing against your neck as he places soft kisses against it. you giggle at the ticklish feeling, grabbing his face delicately to stop him.
“what does that mean?” you ask with a smile, pressing gentle kisses to the bridge of his nose, his face heating up in your hands.
“i adore you” he grins, leaning against your hand and kissing it.
“i know that but what does the sentence mean?” he rolls his eyes as you break out laughing, throwing your head over his shoulder, giggling as if it was the funniest joke you had ever told. you look up at him, both of you grinning widely as he places a proper kiss against your lips.
he loved you, it was ruining his life.
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