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#i’d kiss rusty on the mouth
rowanthestrange · 6 months
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We won’t, we can’t even let ourselves dream of getting Frobisher.
…But like Frobisher is a shapeshifter and what is more Trans Themes than a literal shapeshifter, and what’s more To Hell With Your Genders than choosing to be a goddamn penguin!
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feyascorner · 4 months
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Imagine Tav who has a thing for deep voices (ahem Astarion’s when he gets all low and breathy and AHHHHH) and he notices. I’d combust
AGLAGKJL I HAVE OTHER REQUESTS BUT I SAW THIS AND I HAD TO WRITE IT IMMEIDATELY HES JUST SOOO....also warning this is a bit suggestive nothing terrible but i also haven't written anything other than fluff and angst in ages so i might be a little rusty....
You have barely any breath left in your lungs, and you think you wouldn't mind dying this way. He shoves the door to your shared room open with his back as you push him through it, lips molding against his in a heated wave of passion. Your fingers entangle themselves in his white curls, pulling at them just gently enough to draw out a low groan from his throat, and in an instant, he has your back pressed against the wall, both hands holding either side of your face as if it's the last time he'll get to touch you.
And as much as you wouldn't mind dying from suffocation here, being ever so perceptive, he pulls away to lean his forehead against your own, watching as your chest heaves up and down in a helpless attempt to catch your breath. He pinches one of your cheeks. "It's a relief that one of us needs air to remain conscious. If you were to become like myself, I'm not confident we'd actually ever stop."
"I never said we needed to stop," you say breathlessly.
"You don't need to tell me," he leans forward to press his lips against the area where he usually sinks his teeth into your neck. Instead of the familiar prick, all you feel are his cool lips peppering kisses on your skin. "Your body, and how it responds to me...it does all the talking for you."
And much to your embarrassment, his words are sent straight to the hammering of your heart. It must be the way he says it---so softly, yet rough. Teasing, yet honest. Low enough to drop his voice an octave but not enough to take away its usual charm. And the worst is the breathiness adorning his very words. For someone who doesn't need to breathe, he certainly sounds like he does it a lot.
You feel him nip at a sensitive spot of your neck and practically yelp, earning a snicker from the culprit in front of you.
"Your heart's beating quite fast, darling," he says slowly, almost in a whisper. "Are just a few words enough to rile you up so much?"
You remain silent, afraid all sanity you have left will snap if you dare to speak.
"But that's not all, is it? No, my sweet, you only feel this way about my words because I'm the one saying it," you can hear the grin in his tone. He pulls away from your neck, lifting his head back where he can meet your eyes. "Do you like when I say things like this? Vulnerable? Sensual? Seductive?--"
You slap your palms across his mouth, heat practically radiating off of your face, as you feel his fangs through his smile. He knows, you think, face paling. He knows how you respond to just his stupid voice, and you know him more than enough to expect the worst from the power you've given him. It's humiliating almost---but more than anything, you want him to shut up. To stop talking to you in that way that brings butterflies to your stomach, to stop looking at you as if you're the most desirable person in all of Faerun, to stop just existing in the moment---
Astarion gently pries your hands away from his face, satisfaction more than apparent in his expression. "No use being bashful now. I'm not offended at all. If anything, I'm rather flattered to know you find even my voice as attractive as the rest of me."
"Please stop talking."
"You don't mean that, clearly."
You grab a nearby pillow and smush it against his cheek, pushing him away.
With a soft laugh, he takes the pillow from your hands, placing it beside him to look at you properly. You want to hide away in a hole forever, but you can't do much other than look to the ground, beyond embarrassed. His obvious amusement doesn't do much to soothe you.
"Look at me, darling."
"Hells no."
"Will you listen if I whisper it to you?"
You shoot him a glare, and he laughs again.
So instead of convincing you any further, he takes either of your hands. His voice is low again, and you swear he's doing it on purpose. "We all have our quirks, my love. I enjoy drinking your delicious blood in our nights of passion, and you enjoy listening to my wonderful voice during them."
"Did you just compare this to being a vampire?"
"This and that. Same thing."
The quirk of your brow is enough to tell him of your annoyance, making him squeeze your hand with a grin. You'd throw him out if he weren't so pretty. Those long lashes, the white curls, that irritatingly beautiful shade of his eyes...Gods, you're helpless. But something tells you that the feeling is mutual. Wordlessly, you find yourself leaning closer again, and his grin stretches wider. "So talking lowly does seem to work its charm on you."
You snort, rolling your eyes. "Shut up and kiss me."
"As you wish."
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lipglossanon · 10 months
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Because
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☆───── ⋆⋅🐾⋅⋆ ─────☆
puppy!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)
Shoutout to all of those who gave me the inspo! There are many anons and mutuals; the few I can remember are 🐶 anon, @rusty-phasma, and 🪷 anon
big kisses to everyone not listed as well; you guys are all amazing and thank you for encouraging me! 😭 💜
Warnings: 18+, puppy!leon, hybrid!leon, pet/owner dynamics, eager Leon, switch Leon, kissing, licking, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), collar and leash play, mounting, knotting, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, reader says no but doesn’t really mean it so slight noncon if that’s triggering
Not proofread ✍️
Title from Because by Alice Cooper (cover of the original Beatles version)
☆───── ⋆⋅🐾⋅⋆ ─────☆
“He’s so cute!”
“Oh, he’s just adorable.”
“What’s his name?”
You let the chatter of strangers disappear into the background when bypassing the mall’s pet shop window as you walk to the parking garage. 
“Thinking about adopting him?”
High pitched laughter, “With those list of issues, no way!”
“Thought you said he was cute!”
“He is, just not that cute.”
Frowning to yourself, you turn to see what new addition they added to the storefront to garner so much attention. 
Oh.
He is cute. 
You glare at the retreating backs of the group of people laughing and giggling as they walk away from the window.  You step closer, now that you’re able, and just watch the hybrid as he tinkers with something in his hands. He looks really sweet, blue eyes almost shielded by his sandy blonde fringe. 
You step a little closer and he tilts his head to the side before raising it all the way to look up at you. He smiles, floppy ears perking up on his head as his tail wags. Internally, you’re yelling at yourself not to do it, but you find yourself looking down at the little page of information taped to the glass. 
“Leon, huh?” you murmur, eyes glancing over at him before going back to the paper. 
You can understand why they were snickering to themselves; he’s never had an owner and looks like there’s still a lot of room for improvement since he’s not fully house broken yet. Your eyes skim through the rest, but it’s just height, weight, etc. 
Turning back to him, you see that he has moved closer to the glass, eyes watching you excitedly. 
“Leon,” you mouth at him and he nods, stepping up to the window and placing his hands on it. 
Sighing to yourself, you hope you don’t regret this later, you place your hand on the glass with him repeating the gesture. 
You smile at him and his tail wags back and forth so fast it’s almost a blur. 
“Hi.”
You adopt Leon on the spot, probably the most spontaneous thing you’ve ever done in your life. The clerk helps you with all of the paperwork, happy the hybrid wouldn’t be stuck here too long. He informs you of the do’s and don’ts of hybrid care, giving you a folder full of information as well as a little duffle of items.
“He’s excitable so you’ll have some issues with him trying to run off. I’d keep him leashed til you get home,” the clerk hands you a leash, leading you to the back where Leon was taken as you filled out the application. 
“Hi,” his smile makes one appear on your face. 
“Hi, Leon, you’re coming home with me today.”
He dashes across the room startling you as he pulls you into a bear hug. 
“I’m so lucky, you’re so pretty and smell so good, and—“
“Leon,” the clerk’s firm voice cuts him off, quickly slipping a collar on his neck. 
Leon’s ears droop and he scuffs the floor with his shoe, “Sorry miss.”
“It’s okay,” you murmur where the clerk can’t hear, “I know you’re just happy.”
His ears perk up and tail starts to wag, “Yeah, yeah I really am.”
Leon bares his neck to you for you to snap the leash clip on his collar. He preens as you lead him out of the store and through the mall. Luckily you were headed home to begin with, so taking Leon straight there isn’t an issue. He behaves the entire drive home much to your relief, a little worried about what the clerk meant by excitable.
You find yourself falling into an easy pattern with Leon; he’s a fast learner, so he adapted to your routine pretty quickly. The housebroken issue resolved itself (he just never lived with anyone before so they had to say that on the form). He enjoys having his own separate room and loves taking baths. 
Leon even helps with chores around the house so by the time you’re home from work, you can cook a light meal for the two of you and relax on the couch. He always waits for you by the door, eagerly pressing against you and licking your neck and face in greeting. 
Today’s routine jars you when coming home, there isn’t a happy Leon waiting at the door. Frowning to yourself, you kick off your shoes and drop your bag on the counter. 
“Leon?” you call out.
Walking further into the house, you pass by your half closed door and hear whining. You pause and peek past the door frame, surprise making your eyes wide. 
Discarded knotting toys from the pet shop lay scattered all over the floor— obviously used recently as they’re all dripping with jizz. Looking over you can see Leon completely naked on the bed, buried in a pile of your clothes as he ruts into a toy. He looks fucked out already, hazy eyed and tongue lolled out, panting. 
“Leon,” you murmur, stepping inside the room. 
“Miss owner,” he whines, tail thumping against the bed, tears making his blue eyes seem bigger, “‘m sorry for making a mess. Hurts.”
Your heart beats fast as you take in his pitiful face. 
“It’s okay, it looks like a rut or heat of some kind,” you keep your voice soft, stepping up to the bed to ruffle his ears. 
He whines again, pressing up into your touches as hips keep humping into his toy, before looking at you with big eyes, “Oh no, oh I’m—“
He growls and you watch as his cock knots the toy, cum bubbling out of the sleeve until it’s spilling down the sides and coating your shirts and panties underneath. 
“Leon,” you watch dumbfounded as he ruts down, smearing the cum across your underwear specifically. 
“Smell so good, miss,” he moans, dilated eyes staring at the hem of your skirt, “makes me wanna—”
“No, Leon,” your voice is firm, “the toys are okay, but you can’t be… doing this every time, okay? This is my bed and clothes and it’s just inappropriate.”
He whimpers, head ducking down as he shrinks in on himself. 
Your hand hesitates but you softly brush his fuzzy ears, “Hey, I’m not mad, Leon. We just need to learn boundaries, okay? This is a very,” you pause trying to think of a way to say it. 
“Personal moment,” you gently move his head to look up at you, “I don’t want you to feel bad for something natural.”
“Not mad?” he sniffles, tail sluggishly wagging. 
You smile and pet him more, “Not mad, baby. You’re such a good boy for me.”
He smiles through his tears, “Love being your good boy, miss.”
Your eyes drop to the mess covering your sheets and he flushes hotly. 
“I’m gonna clean it up, just,” he trails off embarrassed, “I have to wait for my knot to go down.”
“That’s okay,” you stroke his ears one last time and step back, walking to the door, “I’ll go make dinner, just clean up and meet me at the table.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmurs, tail beating against the bed. 
A week goes by and there isn’t another incident, although you’re sure you’re missing some clothing items but you can’t for the life of you figure out what. 
Leon’s whines and whimpers can be heard throughout the house late at night, disrupting your sleep but you don’t have the heart to tell him to stop. He’s already mentioned how painful it can be if he goes too long without any relief. 
After endless google and Reddit searches, you’re at your wits end on how to help. The answers are all over the place but all agree that the toys are a temporary fix. You stumble across a thread run by hybrids themselves with much more informative and helpful answers. You bite the bullet and post your question to the page under a throwaway account. In no time at all, you have dozens then hundreds of replies. 
Aside from the silly joke or meme answers, you get a lot of information, all of it basically saying you should offer your hybrid help with his rut. A simple handjob can stave off urges for weeks at a time. You bite your thumb nail as you read the more steamy answers, feeling a pulse of arousal throb in your clit at picturing Leon in such a way.  
You hold off but by the end of the second week of Leon looking miserable, you finally cave and offer to help him (your own bubbling arousal and curiosity peaking). His eyes light up and you gesture for him to sit down on the couch. 
“Only my hand, Leon. And if you misbehave then you’re going to be sent to your room.”
“Promise I’ll be a good boy,” he nods so hard one of his ears flip backwards making you giggle. 
He smiles at you and licks your cheek, “So pretty, miss owner.”
“Leon,” you roll your eyes feeling shy, “sit next to me so I can help you.”
He quickly undresses and sits down, thigh pressing against yours, legs easily falling open as his cock bobs and leaks everywhere. 
Whining, he nuzzles into your shoulder, “s’this okay?”
You hum, “Yeah, you’re okay, Leon.”
Your hand reaches out and grasps his hot throbbing dick, making him arch up with a sigh. Biting your lip, you try to ignore how much you’re getting turned on from this. 
“Thank you,” he mouths at your skin, “thank you so much, promise to be so good for you.”
You suppress the shiver those words give you and slowly stroke along his thick cock. 
“You’re really big,” you mutter out loud before thinking twice. 
He groans, “That’s good, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you laugh softly, “it’s very good, means you’ll feel good inside someone.”
His cock kicks in your hand, globs of precum dripping from the tip to coat your fingers. You lick your lips and tease across his fat tip, coaxing more precum to dribble out. 
He pants and whines into your shoulder as you tease him, dragging out your quick handjob into something that edges him for hours. 
He’s slurring and whining against you, shoulder and neck soaked with his spit as he laps and licks at the skin he can reach. 
“Miss owner, I wanna cum, I’ve been such a good boy,” he whimpers, “wanna knot your hand, please. You said I could.”
“Not yet,” you’re so turned out, your panties are wet and sticky with slick, “wanna see how long you can last.” 
He growls and whimpers but lets you keep teasing his cock, playing with the head before feathering your fingers across his balls and knot. 
You watch as tears drip down his cheeks when he clenches his eyes shut. Feeling a little bad for him, you pick up your pace and jerk him off, getting a little rougher in your movement. 
“Oh, oh, that’s so good,” he mumbles, “gonna knot you, gonna knot my sweet owner.”
Your thighs clench together trying to alleviate the want building in your core. He growls and grunts as he pushes up into your fist, knot bumping against your fingers as it gets bigger. 
Snarling against your shoulder, he humps the tight tunnel of your fingers until sticky cum spurts from his tip, coating your hand as it drips down onto his knot and sac. 
“Good boy, Leon,” you keep your voice warm and soft, “you did so good for me.”
He keens in the back of his throat and nuzzles your spit covered skin.
“Thank you, I feel better,” he sighs happily, ears drooping as he yawns, “gonna take a bath.”
“Okay,” you reply as he shuffles to his feet and makes his way to the bathroom. 
You listen for the door to click before you bring your hand up to your mouth. Just pure curiosity is what you tell yourself as you press two cum covered fingers into your mouth. A moan slips past your lips as Leon’s salty flavor coats your tongue. 
Your phone buzzing jolts you from your illicit deed, arousal and shame warring in your chest as you quickly head to the sink to wash your hands. You look into your own eyes through the mirror; you were just curious that’s all, you project to yourself. 
100% nosey curiosity. 
So what if you got even wetter at tasting Leon’s thick cum. 
Now that you know what it’s like in your mouth, you’ll never have to think about it again. 
Totally not a big deal. 
Period. 
Hours later as you lay in bed, glaring at your watch face reading 2:37am, that little voice of doubt chimes in that maybe it was a big deal after all. 
You muffle a groan into your pillow, tossing and turning until you can find a comfortable spot. That Reddit page said you could offer a lot more than just your hand.. is the last thought you have before you finally succumb to the sweet embrace of sleep. 
The next morning Leon is rousing you much too early for four hours of sleep. 
“But you said we could go to the park today,” he pouts, his blue eyes pleading.
“I did, didn’t I?” you sigh to yourself, scrubbing a hand over your sleep filled eyes, “alright, I’m up.”
“Thank you,” he jumps onto the bed, tongue lapping at your cheek making you giggle. 
“Leon!” you laugh harder as he crawls completely on top of you, pinning you down to lick across your jaw and ear. 
“Thank you so, so much,” he hums against you, mouth panting as he licks across the seam of your lips. 
“Leon, don’t—“
Your words are drowned out as he licks into your mouth, sloppy puppy spit dripping all down your lips and chin. Whining, you try to push him off but he has your arms pressed down into the blankets. 
He hums louder, tongue now slowly lapping into your mouth making you squirm underneath him. Moaning, you go limp as his tongue flutters against yours, drooling all in your mouth so much you swallow it down before you choke. He takes it as a sign you like it, making sure to drip even more puppy spit into your mouth. 
Your nipples tingle as he deepens the sloppy make out, Leon rocking his hips down onto you as he keeps up the slow motion of pressing his tongue in and out of your mouth. When you shift your thighs, you can feel how your wet panties cling to your cunt. 
Moaning, you start to suck on Leon’s thick tongue, crossing that imaginary line you drew for yourself. You want this so why not let yourself have it? Leon notices the change and excitedly presses his mouth closer, now using his lips to messily kiss you instead of just licking into your mouth. 
At some point, Leon shifts enough for you to move your arms, but you only bring them up to tangle in his hair—being mindful of his soft ears. You sigh and mewl as he gets more aggressive, teeth nipping your lips before fucking his tongue roughly into your mouth. After deep, sloppy, spit filled kisses, Leon finally pulls away. 
“God, you smell so good,” he pants and chuffs against your neck. 
“W-what,” you clear your throat, feeling all out of sorts, “what about the park?”
“Can we still go?” his ears perk up, making you chuckle. 
“Yeah, but I need to get dressed.”
“Will you wear that pretty dress?” Leon leans up to look at you bashfully. 
You squint up at him, a confused smile on your face, “Sure, I guess. If the weather is nice enough.”
His tail wags, “It is! I’m gonna go get my collar.”
He scrambles off the bed and beelines it for his room, leaving your door open. You sigh and stare up at the ceiling for a moment, feeling like you should take a cold shower. 
Lugging yourself out of bed, you grab your change of clothes and head into the en suite bathroom. You finish your ablutions and change—shooting yourself a thumbs up in the mirror as you leave the bathroom. 
Stepping back into your room, Leon’s already crowding you, collar on as he presses the clipped leash into your hand. 
“You’re so pretty,” he gives you a wide smile, blue eyes gazing down to your dress hem, “smell so good.”
He drops down onto his knees and presses his face under your dress, burying his nose against your panty clad pussy. 
“Leon!” you gasp, hand tangling in the leash and pulling, but he rears against the pressure, tongue lapping at the thin lace gusset of your panties. 
You pull harder and he groans, bringing his palms up to press on your hips, sending you stumbling back against the wall. He quickly shifts with your body, nosing your thighs before sloppily licking against your cunt. 
You shakily pull up the edge of your dress until you can see Leon’s face. His dilated eyes flicker up to yours, hair ruffled and messy, ears twitching. 
“Leon,” you whimper, feeling his teeth tug and nip the fabric until he’s able to rip a hole into it. 
His tongue slips into the tear, making it larger until you’re basically wearing crotch less panties. Tugging on the leash just makes him grunt and moan into your pussy, tongue licking up the slick dripping from your hole. 
“Fuck,” you rock your hips making Leon growl, tail wagging behind him as his tongue flutters in your clenching hole. 
He moves up, tongue dragging through your pussy lips to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves til you’re whimpering.  
“G-good boy, Leon, right there, oh god,” you grind your sensitive bundle against his mouth as he suckles it between his lips. 
He whines and teases your pudgy clit with his lips and tongue as you yank his leash to keep his face right where you want. He pants and moans, moving his mouth against your pussy, tongue fluttering in and out of your hole. 
You tighten the pull on his leash and ride his face with a moan. You can hear how wet you are from the messy sounds of Leon’s mouth. He moves back up to lap and suck at your clit, tail thumping against the floor as he groans against the sensitive bud like he can’t get enough of your taste.
He finally pulls away with a huff, mouth swollen and shiny with slick. Before you can say anything, he’s standing up so fast you lose grip on the leash and he’s shoving you over the edge of the bed and flipping your dress up. Your panties are ripped in half and you feel his thick cock pressing into your hole. 
“Leon,” you try to raise up but he snarls and boxes you in, sinking his cock into you fast and deep. 
You wail and thrash as he grunts, rocking his dick deep into your soaked pussy until the tip grinds against the opening to your womb. 
Clenching and moaning, tears bead your water line, “S’too much.”
He licks the shell of your ear making you shiver, pulling halfway out of your pulsing walls to fuck back into your cunt. 
“Been wanting to knot your pussy for ages,” he whines, the sound of skin slapping together making you clench against his dick. 
“So naughty, letting me fuck your hand, cumming all over you, letting other pups know you’re all mine,” he mouths and lick all over the back of your neck and across your shoulders. 
“Just wanted t’help,” you mumble, feeling your pussy throb as he bullies his cock against your g-spot, bottoming out on every thrust.  
“Mm but you are helping now, miss owner,” Leon chuffs the back of your head, hips flexing as he ruts his dick into your greedy cunt, “sweet pussy all wet and willing for my puppy knot.”
You clamp down hard on his thick cock with a loud whine, “Oh, f-fuck.”
He picks up on that instantly and growls low, “Like my puppy knot? Wanna feel it lock me inside your tight wet hole?”
Hot arousal curls in your abdomen, clit throbbing at the thought of Leon knotting you. 
“Leon,” you mewl, fingers twisting in your sheets, cunt squelching loudly around his dick as you get even more wet and tight. 
“That’s it, miss owner,” he rumbles low in his chest, sloppily licking your shoulders, “get that pussy nice and slick for my knot.”
You’re coated in puppy spit and precum at this point, nipples hard and pointed as Leon drags you back onto his cock. 
“Gotta show you how good of a mate I can be,” he nips at your neck, “show you I can fill you up how you need, give you lots of pups.”
“Leon,” you whine as he bullies into your soaking wet hole over and over, “n-no pups, you gotta pull out.”
“But I gotta give you my knot,” he licks across your shoulder blade, “gotta breed your pussy deep.”
Shuddering, your arms give out, forcing your back into a deeper arch allowing Leon to fuck your pussy harder. 
“Gonna make you my bitch,” he growls into your ear, drooling all over your neck, “gonna mount you whenever I want, knot you so good you’ll beg for it.”
Hearing him call you a bitch in that low growl makes you press back harder into his thrusts, pussy squeezing his cock like crazy. 
“Leon,” you drag out his name with a moaning pant, “we can’t.”
“Why? Tell me one good reason why and I’ll stop, miss owner.”
“Cause,” your mind’s foggy with arousal, “cause…”
You shiver as he ruts deeper into your slick pussy, bullying that spongy spot in your cunt that makes you clench on him repeatedly. 
“Why?” he licks your ear, “cause you like it too much? Don’t want my dripping puppy cock filling you up? Giving you a thick creampie to make you feel nice and full.”
“Yes,” you moan, “I shouldn’t—“
“Miss owner, just let me do it one time, just so we both can see how it feels,” his voice is sweet making your thoughts syrup thick, “just let my fat puppy cock knot you one time.”
You shudder, pussy pulsing and fluttering around him as slick leaks down your thighs, “Just once?”
He growls in satisfaction, “Yeah, just once. Promise.”
You both know as soon as he knots you, you’re going to like it too much to stop. It’s why he laughs into your shoulder making you moan. 
“Can’t wait to empty my balls in your fat pussy,” he grunts. 
You wail as his tip knocks against your cervix roughly. 
“Love the way you sound,” he nips your neck, “love the way you smell, love how sweet you taste,” his voice dips into a deeper octave, “love how your hot pussy grips me so fucking tight. She’s really working for that puppy knot, huh?”
Drooling into the sheets, you whimper in reply, walls fluttering and clenching around his thick cock. The way he’s thrusting into your hole grinds your clit against the bedspread, orgasm steadily building higher and higher to its peak. 
“G’nna cum,” you slur out, toes curling as your hips shake, “gonna cum, fuck, Leon!”
You bury your face in the sheets as you cry out, cunt pulsing and milking his cock as he keeps railing you into the bed. 
“Yes, yes,” he snaps his teeth over your shoulder, “feels so good, gonna make me pop my knot early, fuck, take it, take it, miss owner, take my fucking cock.”
You keen pitifully as he bares down over your body, pressing his knot past the wet, clenching hole of your pussy with a low howl. Feeling his knot seal you together, your cunt clamps down around him tightly squeezing around his cock and knot. 
“Mmm so perfect,” he huffs against your ear, “doesn’t that feel so good? So warm and sticky inside? So much puppy cum filling you up.”
You mewl pitifully as he rocks against you, cock grinding all against the spongy spot in the front of your cunt making a second orgasm wash weakly through you. 
“Can knot you all day, miss owner,” he kisses the side of your cheek, “instead of going to the park,” he licks the corner of your mouth, “can I? Promise it’ll feel so good.”
You turn your head to suck his tongue into your mouth. He moans and eagerly licks into your open mouth. 
“S’fine, Leon,” you pull away with a sigh as he grinds your clit against the bedspread, “this’ll help, right?”
His tail wags happily, “Uh huh, help me out so much. S’okay to knot you again and again right? As much as I need?”
Brain feeling like thick syrup from the best orgasm of your life, you nod, “As much as you need.” 
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honestsycrets · 1 year
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Amor y Respeto I: Mi Alma || [Miguel O’Hara x Latina!Reader]
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Chapter II: Corazón
❛ pairing | Miguel O’Hara x FB!Reader, platonic Hobie x Reader
❛ type | oneshot
❛ summary | the moment you want a sign of love from Miguel is the moment that your relationship is fucked. 
❛ tags | fuckbuddies, a very latinx piece, jealousy, jealous Miguel O’Hara, a sparse hobie appearance, spidey!reader, latina!reader, no translations of the spanish included, gif credit to the original owner, nsfw, female reader, some mention of blood and wounds, some creative liberties, slight spoilers.
❛ sy’s notes | not my usual fanfare and i’m a little rusty but miguel hit me straight in my heart. i consciously omitted spanish translations in this work. consistent pet names include mi alma (my soul) & muñeca (doll). this is not my usual fandom and i may have missed some fandom nuances, so i apologize in advance for creative liberties. lastly, emotions impact the reader’s healing capabilities, hope that's clear enough. thank you @lisinfleur​ and @ivarsrideordie​ for your help. i’ll be dropping an ivar fic soon, see you then!
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In your cultura, disrespect was unacceptable. 
You knew it. Your lover knew you knew it: but for you, there was something greater than respect. Amor. If he knew that you knew about her little escapade, oh, it would be unforgivable. It undercut the very foundation of what he did at HQ. But even between lovers, where the time you spent was fleeting and unstable, there were things you could not share. Besides... how would he know? 
The day had been long. Your body ached with the dizzying speed of patrols past the vine-covered high-rise apartments of your beautiful city. Your room was stuffy with the tropical air struggling against humidity. With dried blood on your skin, the perfect remedy was a shower. Its warmth soothed your aching muscles after a long day. You found your mind wandering to problems that didn’t immediately demand a solution. How you’d avoid cotton mouth the next time you saw him. Sooner than you thought.
The shower door whizzed aside, plumes of steam fading into the cool air. “Shit!” you shouted, reaching to cover your body. Miguel bent his head as he stepped into your cramped shower and cupped the frame. He shut the shower door. Did he already know? You nipped your lower lip raw and the taste of blood turned your tastebuds. Somehow, you knew that he hadn’t slipped off from HQ just to have you. Not tonight. He had that glazed-over look in his sharp eyes, considering you the same way he might consider anyone else. 
 “Miguel?” you fluttered your lashes at him which winked off plump droplets of water. “Mi alma, que paso?” 
“Did you know?” 
You reached out to turn the knob of the water off. It creaked to a stop. Despite tracing the droplets that coasted down your curves, he watched you with otherwise uninterested eyes. When you failed to respond, he stomped closer, kicking up the water that swirled under your bare feet.
“Did you know?” His fist pounded the side of the shower wall. Your heart leapt into your chest where it fluttered painfully, encased in your chest. Miguel bared his angular teeth at you. Teeth that usually marred your neck with possessive bites, loving kisses, and teasing scrapes. He never bared them at you like this. It was always a possibility, never the reality.
You met his eyes. The certainty you had moments earlier that oh, he wouldn’t find out, was gone. Of course, he found out. Your Miguel always found out. With that dead, blank expression, you knew the gravity of your situation. 
“Of course, I knew.” His chest swelled with forceful inhalation of air as you spoke. “But Gwen… I, they’re only kids. Kids who--” 
“Kids? They are not just kids. Coño, I’d expect this of them,” he prompted your name and took a step forward. You took one back. Then another, knocking your back into the shower walls. You were like a small bird in an even smaller cage. Nowhere to run and still, he wasn’t about to give you the luxury of personal space. You were pinned between his firm chest and the two stony walls against your back. His voice lowered dangerously low, barely a murmur against the shell of your ear. “But you? You know what’s at risk.” 
“They love--” 
“Y que?” he snapped your name out again. “Tell me, when those kids destroy thousands of lives, what does that change? Have you ever stopped to think of that? Of the lives this will ruin?” 
“I just... wanted them happy. If even for an instant.” You hung your head. He set his clawed hand to the side of your head, combing through the stringy strands of your hair down with a false care that you wanted to believe in. But it was entangled in the strings of his manipulation. “Of course, you have, muñequita.” 
“Then can’t they--” His hand balled up into a fist and careened with the wall behind you. Your head snapped away as his claws unfurled and released crumbling bits of the wall by your naked toes. You’d have to clean that up-- later. You took a deep breath and exhaled the frustration that packed away in your belly. “Sabes qué? I am sorry that love isn’t enough for you, I am sorry that I have never been enough for you.” 
“No. No puedo con esto,” he looked down at you. As he leaned in, his forearm above your head supported his body weight. “Muñeca, por favor. This isn’t about us.” 
“Why can’t it be?” 
“You can’t be serious.” 
“I just want to be with you, but you won’t let me in,” you reached out. The soft pads of your fingertips hovered by his sharp jawline eased past his ear and into his ruffled hair. For a second, brief as it were, his eyes softened. He leaned into the touch. You had your window. “Why won’t you let me in?”
Whether or not he was past the anger, the disrespect, his thick arms wound around the small of your waist. In some bid to bring you back to your senses-- to him, he set his forehead against your own, dwelling in the soft scent of your floral soap that filled his nose. You tilted your head, capturing his lips in a kiss. His body became as sturdy: unmoving and guarded. 
“I can’t give you what you need.” He reached back to remove your hands from his hair and with care settled them back on your moist chest. As he made his way out of your bathroom, his warning echoed through your mind. “Stay out of my way.”
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Miguel’s love was unstable. Affection, not love. If you were honest with yourself, you would admit that you always knew it was bound to fail. You were lucky for what time you had with him. It made subsequent missions all the harder, wrapped up in this innate desire to be loved by a man who allowed himself to be loved by none. Without his affection, HQ felt barren. Its many corridors held no life, no love, and no prospect of a better future. Yet, for Miguel, there you were. Your ballet flats tapped furiously alongside the ringing stomps of your partner’s steel-toed boots.
“Ay bendito, this isn’t healing,” you dabbed your fingers in the blood at your shoulder, storming past a sea of red and blue that parted for the pair of you. Your neck was oozing-- well, not oozing so much as soaking your outfit. The mission could have gone better. Sometimes your mind wandered at the worst of times. It didn’t matter, not now. It was done, he would be happy, and it would be enough for today. All that you did you did for him-- and he knew it.
“Your man won’t be happy about that,” Hobie cut through the crowd while walking backward. He made it look so easy. Conviction, you guessed, made life much easier. 
“No,” you took the end of your silky rebozo and held it to your shoulder. “He only cares about results. We have good results. What does he have to be angry about? He has everything he wants.” 
“Hm.” Hobie hummed, span around, and leaned over your shoulder. He was on your tail with his aggravatingly long legs no matter how quickly you walked.
“Hobie, por dios.” 
“He broke up with you, didn’e?” 
You didn’t have to answer him. You didn’t even need to talk to him. You could just keep walking and leave it to his imagination. Yet, your face faltered. The perceptive man he was, Hobie twisted in front of your path. He leaned his hips back and sank his face inches apart from yours. Hobie quirked a smile in his lazy eyes and an adorable lip pout. Your eye centered on his piercing to avert your focus from his words. 
“Yeah,” he answered his own question. “Bet he did.” 
“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” you swerved around him.
“Maybe.” Hobie shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and sped after you. “But I’m with you.” 
“How sweet.” 
You knew your Miguel would be there: on that stupid platform, staring at multiple screens, at a lost life, departed from his reality in any other capacity but maintaining the happiness of others. Well, others that weren’t like you. You found him in that very same position when you pressed into his lab. 
“What is it now?” 
“We’ve taken care of it-- Hobie and I.”  
“Good,” came his dry response. “Is that all?”
“Not in the mood to talk to your girl, eh?” Hobie clicked, throwing his arm over your shoulder: not out of care, or friendship, but spite. No matter the institution, Hobie always seemed to harbor harsh feelings for those in charge. If it meant pissing him off a little, rattling up the flow of HQ, Hobie was always an eager volunteer. Hobie turned his lips to your ear and prompted your name, “C’mon, leave him. Let's go get a drinky drink.” 
You bit out a cry at the pressure on your neck, the damn thing wasn’t healing nearly as fast as it needed to be. You blamed the bundles of anxiety that rattled up emotions low in your belly. It was still open, soaking Hobie too. He didn’t mind a little blood on his shorn uniform. Good for the image, and all that.
“That hurt, Hobie!” 
Miguel threw a glance over his shoulder. Just a moment, but enough to spot something else that agitated him. Your normally white outfit, fluttery and light, splattered with the blood that painted your red rebozo a little redder. Or maybe it was Hobie’s lips on your ear, making remarks about beer-- or whiskey-- or-- Molotov--
“Get off,” Miguel pounced down from his kingly stoop and flicked Hobie’s wrist. He snaked his wrist away, shoving his palms back into his pants. You threw him a look knowing that it was not because Miguel told him to but because he felt like it. The devil’s advocate that he was. Miguel unraveled the rebozo from your neck. His hand grasped your chin and angled it one way, then the other, rumbling in clear agitation “You’re wounded.” 
“Déjame quieta. Don’t touch me.” 
“And you?” Miguel rocked back on his heels, setting his well-corded arms on his hips. Then, he angled his body toward Hobie. “Where were you?” 
Hobie lifted his pierced eyebrow. “He serious?” 
“I can handle myself.” 
“Can you? And you-- why are you still here?” Though Miguel asked the question, it was a statement. Hobie held his palms up, fluttering his fingers in mockery. You watched Miguel run his fingers down the bloody rebozo, counting its bloodied inches.  
“Vente conmigo.” He leaned into your ear. The trill of his voice danced down your spine, low and husky. Your mind wandered to the many nights he whispered just the same in your ear. You suppressed the shiver, your heartbeat trembling so violently you were sure you could hear its pathetic thumping, nearly a cry. It hadn’t been long but... you missed this.
“You told me to stay out of your way. I am staying out of your way. Give me--”
“I won’t ask again. Either you come or I’ll make you.” That was it then. A flash of disbelief snapped across your face. The gall of this man. Even though he told you to stay out of the way, he demanded that you leave the lab with him? You caught Hobie perking up to look your way with shiny curious eyes. He pointed to his chest and then yours, suggesting… something you’d ignore. Hobie slipped out a smug hum.
“I’ll catch up with you later, Hobie.”
There were no good alternatives. You knew he would make good on his threat. Not that you particularly would want to fight him anyway. Whether it was respect or obligation, you ran after your Miguel, who already walked away. You snatched the rebozo from his waiting hand, suspended in the air.
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Yes, your life was a delicate balance between love and respect. You weren’t sure which of those guided you back to Miguel’s dimly lit room. Only that as you sat on his bed, your once-was lover was behind you. His fingers worked swiftly on your neck, furiously tugging at your sore neck with what felt like a needle. No point complaining. It would eventually end. You could go find the boys. They could rail you about your dating choices as they always did. 
“Lyla will find you another backup partner,” he broke the silence. You rathered he didn’t operate in this limbo of false intimacy. Your lips parted into a sigh rife with agitation. The drawback of fucking your boss was this, you supposed. He controlled your life.
“No, she won’t. I like working with Hobie. I want him.” 
Miguel paused short of dipping the needle back into your skin. “What do you mean-- you want him?” 
“What does it sound like? I like working with Hobie. I trust Hobie. So I want Hobie by my side.” You slapped your lacey thighs and turned to gaze into those familiar eyes. “Así que, no, I do not need another backup. I don’t need you controlling every inch of my work life. I need you to hurry up.” 
“Muñeca. If you’re emotional, you’ll heal slower.” 
“Do not call me that,” you jumped from his lush bed. Your neck squealed for you to stop and let him fix what was clearly broken with the slack thread that connected your body to his. Oh, and what a metaphor it felt like. Your life was sewn together by a man who held all the strings in his hands. “You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore. You made it clear how little you feel about me-- and my feelings.” 
He lifted his eyes to yours. A long, slow look. The sort of look that made you question it all. As if the things you said weren’t really from your lips, no matter how sure you were of them.  You broke the exchange first and grasped the long strand embedded deep in your neck. 
“Your feelings,” he held out his hand and tugged the line, “tend to get in the way of what needs to be done.” 
Startled, you looked down at his open palm. You slipped your smaller fingers into the middle of his palm and sat back on the bed. He slid behind you, pressing his core against your backside-- because that was completely necessary. With soft care, he shifted your hair over the opposing shoulder and continued his work. 
“Apart from that, you shouldn’t have gone on that mission. You were distracted. If you weren’t so emotional,” Miguel murmured. “We wouldn’t be here.”
If you weren’t emotional? You screwed your eyebrows together in a pathetic attempt to ignore what he just said. To ignore the way that he demeaned the fuel of your abilities, what guided you through this traumatic thing called life. Meanwhile, Miguel functioned on minimal emotion-- the suppression of what he’d lost by protecting what he was. 
“It’s your fault I was distracted in the first place.” 
“You should be able to control your own feelings.”
“Fine. Apúrate. I’ll get out of your way.” 
Miguel snapped the healing aid thread and ran his clawed fingertips across the long streaks on your neck and shoulder. It was mere moments that he lingered there circling your neck. As your breathing evened out, you felt your body pull together fibrous strands of tissue and heal. Yet, you couldn’t care. 
“Done.” Miguel refused to address your gaze but opted to draw your top back into place to over your breasts. You stood and secured the buttons of your halter top behind your neck. That was it. You’d return to your duties, healed half by your emotions and half by Miguel. You would need to learn to ignore the love you had for him. One day, all this would be well. Miguel rolled up the excess thread around his reel.
Fine. If he was going to ignore you--
“Do you think,” you paused long enough to debate your words. Enough for Miguel to glance up with his stoic red eyes and lift an eyebrow at you. It irritated you how unemotional and consistently unbothered he could be when you stood there just the opposite. Always desperate for a sign of his feelings. “Hobie wants to fuck?” 
There were some lines you should never cross. While you would never actually fuck your partner, the mere mention of the thought ever crossing your mind was one step too far. It was terribly disrespectful. Miguel’s reel plopped onto the floor and rolled short of your feet.
You slid your palms over your hips before hooking at the bend in your waist. His gaze focused on the glide of your hands trailing slowly down your sides. Sides that he often snatched in the dead of night after a warm shower. Or that he’d cling to during lovemaking. Your following words caused him to lurch off the bed. “Qué piensas? He might still be in HQ, no?” 
“What,” His hand fit along your neck like a tight collar. The next moment, pain radiated from your skull and blurred your vision. The pain licked flames of excitement to life in your belly. A gasp slipped from your lips. Instead of shock, your cry was tinged with delight. With his wild brown hair slumping forward over his scarlet eyes, he was more beautiful than ever. His claws squeezed your neck, jerking and slamming your head once more. His breath tickled your cheek. “What did you say?” 
Of course, he couldn’t help himself: the control freak. He was a genius. You knew he knew it was bait. He had to. But your looming threat was enough for him to take the risk. Your lips curled, laughing your words rather flippantly. “I said-- do you think Hobie wants to fuck?”
You eviscerated his already thin patience. The searing pain of his fangs piercing your battered neck seared all thoughts of Hobie from your mind. Your hands choked out a pitiful cry. “Miguel, Miguel, Miguel-- calma.”
The familiar burn of his frantic biting, his violent ownership of your body, made your body slick. He lifted your hips onto his, legs dangling over his slim thighs. Crunched up against his massive body, you felt small but as if you were the focus of his world. Just how you loved to feel when you were encased in his arms.
“You think he could fuck you like I can?” His gravelly voice rumbled. His face pinched tight, daring your response. “That you can replace me— so easily?”
No, the answer was a resounding no. But he didn’t need to know that. If Miguel thought he could play games with you, you’d play games with him. The last forty-eight hours had been a blur of his rejection. It was only fair that Miguel felt the same.
Blood seeped down from your neck, a feeling you were accustomed to today. On the other hand, you weren’t accustomed to how he tore into your uniform as if it were as offensive as your harsh words. You calmly noted that you were glad to have multiple: a consequence of doing this work too long. 
That was it. You slid your hands up his forearms, around his firm biceps, to his broad shoulders. There you rested your arms, knocking your foreheads gently together. Past the rage, you recognized the slightest hint of fear in his eyes. The promise that you were lying. For security under another name. You refused to give it to him: he never gave it to you.
“He is Spiderman, isn’t he?” 
He shifted the pad of his finger between your lips. Your tongue slid over his thumb, crooked in your mouth to suppress any more words that he may regret hearing or that you may regret saying. 
“He may be,” Miguel rasped. His lips quirked into a wicked grin. With Miguel’s sudden sharpness, you weren’t expecting to see his smile. You welcomed it, a rare delight that you found yourself loathing the more he spoke. “But you’re mine.” 
His. The inklings of fear you previously spotted in the depth of Miguel’s eyes seemed to weaken, sliding his thumb from your lips, rolling past your nipple, and the muscles of your stomach. He slid past your vulva, trailing with expert care along your slit. It was barely a touch if even a graze. Words failed to form. They were a thick bolus in your throat, congealed and thick.
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I thought so.” 
Your eyes trailed Miguel’s strong jawline and ambled up toward his lips. Your gaze lingered there as his fingers slipped between your lips, finding your cunt soft and wet. His eyes flickered toward your shy gaze and danced his lips against yours by virtue of his words. “It doesn’t seem like you’re that interested in finding him.”
“How would you know?” you cried out when one of his clawed fingers dipped inside your body. Your hips jerked onto his hand to seek out more of him. Your traitorous, awful body. It wasn’t comfortable when he scratched you while stroking your velvety inner walls. But you always needed more of his touch.
“Oh,” Miguel hummed. He bent close-- your eyes now focused on his high cheekbones. You couldn’t look him in the eyes and know that he knew how weak you were for him. “I know. It’s the way you look at me.” 
“As if--” You dropped your eyes, reveling in the pressure of his prodding fingers, the delight in having him here, with you, once again. It shouldn’t have felt as intimate, as comforting as it did, but it did. His fingers withdrew, pleased with his work. “You know I can give you what you need.” 
“You said you couldn’t,” Miguel slipped his fingers into your mouth: sweet and sour with your own excitement and the scratches of blood. His hands worked at the waist as you secured yourself on the wall with your hands, knowing what was next-- and expecting it. 
“I lied.” he drawled out, a long hum. He spat on his hand and rubbed himself as you watched, anticipating the soft prod of his cock’s head at your entrance. It hadn’t been long. Yet, as he buried himself in the warmth of your body, you inhaled a wealth of air into your chest, exhaling it in soft shudders. Perhaps it was the fear of never having this again. 
His large hands shifted underneath your ass and pinned you square against the wall. His claws drew blood to the surface of superficial cuts. Your hands snapped to his shoulders and clung onto him for some security. You found no rest between the wall chafing your back and Miguel’s long, pointed strokes into your body. Your body burned with the pull of his dick dragging in and out of your cunt, fighting to keep him inside with every squeeze and pull. He wasn’t lying, you knew. But it didn’t matter. Not when you were his complete and utter focus. 
Miguel let a word of praise slip free as he ground into you. With a wall of muscle before you and the sturdy wall behind, breathing was slight and hard to come by. It had to be what he wanted-- to make you focus on him and him alone. It’s what you deserved after antagonizing the man. Your hands found his hair, knotting your fingers in it, and accepting the ferocity of his deep, then shallow strokes into your core. Your eyes flitted shut as he bottomed out, grinding his hips in tight circles. As you came, your body furiously clenched onto his cock, slowing his sweeping thrusts. 
You craved it: the moment of Miguel’s weakness. Your body urged out his orgasm with a noise tempered by pleasure and annoyance. Your cunt milking earned you a particularly firm slam of his hips. Miguel would drag you down to take it all. He spilled into you with a deliciously unique warmth, grinding his hips until spent. His forehead rested on the crook of your neck. In place of another hard bite, he gently kissed your collarbone and throat. After he finished, he settled you down onto the floor. But your legs were sloppy, weak shaky things. Miguel snatched your hand as you swayed to keep yourself upright. 
“I have to go,” you held his hand begrudgingly for support. Then bent down to pick up strips of your clothes. Yet another victim of your relationship with him. You would have to... mend this. Somehow. Probably not. “They’re expecting me--” 
“Muñeca,”
“Cálmate, Miguel. You know I’m not going to fuck him,” you swiped the coursing fluids down your thigh. You dragged your hand down Miguel’s firm chest and danced your finger up his chest to flip up his chin. He glanced down, puffing air from his nostrils in protest. His eyes rolled, oh so slightly. “He’s not my type. I like them big, mm?”
“You would if he was?” he bristled.
“I never said that.” You said. Despite this fact, certain needs needed to be met. Ones that if he didn’t fill, someone else would. You both knew this. Your work was long and stressful and done in the name of the man who was before you. If for nothing but that love, you knew you would keep going. You believed in Miguel: his choices and his heart. 
“You didn’t need to.” 
“Mi alma--” you stopped, waving your hand at his pet name. “All this is fleeting. I need someone that will meet my needs. To tell me they love me. Can you?” 
He pressed his lips together and stewed on your request. You knew without a question in your mind what that answer was. In the aftermath of sex with Miguel, he was closer to you than ever. And yet, it was impossible to convince him of an actual connection. For him, it was easier to leave you than love you. 
He didn’t need to say it.  
“I know you, Miguel. You didn’t lie. It was the truth,” you slipped your hand from his. Instead, you opted to set a fleeting kiss on the side of his lip. For better or worse, he didn’t reciprocate. Your steps carried you backward. Then, you afforded him a small deprecating smile. “Other than sex, you can’t give me what I need.”
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clockwayswrites · 2 months
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Masked- unmasked After 'wrong'
Dick cupped Phantom’s cheek, brushing his thumb against the too pink lips.
“What?” Phantom asked. He shifted heavily lidded eyes from the t.v. to Dick. They were so blue. The hint of green was there, just around the pupil of one looked close enough, but Phantom’s eyes were so blue.
“Just observing,” Dick said. He didn’t know how to sum up even a fraction of everything going through his head right then. His mind scrambled to catalog every difference in Phantom: the lips pinker, the eyes blue, the blush redder, the skin warmer. He leaned down to kiss the scattering of freckles; freckles that were a rusty red rather than a pale scattering of light.
There was no faint glow that bled through Dick’s eyelids.
“I can go.”
Dick pulled back with a frown. “What?”
“If you don’t want to be around me like this, I can go,” Phantom repeated.
It still didn’t make sense to Dick.
He stroked Phantom’s cheek gently. “Why would I want you to go?”
“I just mean—” Phantom cut himself off with a huff of air. It was a long pause before he tried again. “I just mean, it’s okay if you don’t… like this version of me. I know that all this isn’t what you… agreed to have in your bed.”
“All this?” Dick asked, brow furrow. “All this is still you.”
“Sure, but it’s not special, not like my other form.”
Phantom’s sour smile begged to be kissed away so Dick did just that. He leaned in and kissed Phantom’s lips until Phantom gave in and opened up his mouth for Dick. Dick twisted, sitting up further so that he could press down into the kiss. He slung a leg over Phantom, mindful of the stitches and he settled lightly on Phantom’s stomach.
Phantom was the one who broke the kiss first to pant for air. Another difference.
“Boo, you’re beautiful. You’re beautiful in your other form and you’re beautiful like this. I was just enjoying taking in all the differences,” Dick tried to explain. “I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want you out of my bed. You’re still you.”
Phantom still looked unsure. “You might not like the differences.”
“I will,” Dick assured him. “Let me show you.”
“You might eat those words.”
“I’d rather eat you,” Dick said with a smirk. He laughed as Phantom shoved him, letting himself be pushed back. “I mean it. I don’t care that you look different. I still want to kiss you and blow you and fuck you and be fucked by you. I still want to spend time with you and talk to you and keep you close. You’re still you. It doesn’t matter that I haven’t seen this side of you yet. It’s just a whole new part to explore. So, let me prove it to you, okay?”
“You’re so fucking stubborn,” Phantom complained, though he was finally smiling again.
“Yep,” Dick said, popping the ‘p’. “So it’s best you give in and just lay there like a good pillow princess while I fuck you.”
“Don’t make me crush you next training.”
“Worth it,” Dick assured him with a roll of his hips that had Phantom groaning. “Are you really going to say no to me spoiling you.”
Phantom did his best to glare but there was no heat in the look. Finally he sighed as if giving in to the biggest favor. “Fine, just don’t call me pillow princess.”
“Pillow Prince?”
“N.”
“Bedroom beauty, sheet sultan, night—”
Phantom pulled him down into a kiss that Dick was certain was just a move to shut him up, but he went willingly. He’d never say no to those lips, whether they were tinged a cold magenta or a warm pink.
--- AN: tossing this up before I try to sleep. Pain is very bad right now so we'll see. I'm sure there are errors, but I don't need them corrected, ty. Hope all you darlings are being delightful!
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ellethespaceunicorn · 10 months
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There Is A Light That Never Goes Out
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Title: There Is A Light That Never Goes Out 
Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI 
Pairing: Syverson x Female!Reader 
Word Count: 951
Summary: When an unexpected pregnancy rocks your already uncertain world, you decide the best option is to run. Apocalypse AU. 
Warnings: apocalypse AU, accidental pregnancy, language
A/N: A submission for @the-slumberparty BINGO challenge. My bingo squares include beach day, family friend, accidental pregnancy, and apocalypse. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.  
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics 
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me 
My Masterlist  
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As you sit just past where the water rushes on the beach, you can feel the mist of the water on your face. Sea salt is in the air, and you relish the smell. You can remember coming to the coast with your family as a child. 
Of course, that was before the world decided to end. Before you had to change your entire way of life in the blink of an eye.  
Now, moments like this are but a distant memory. Your shoes are off. Your toes are buried in the sand. Saliferous wind from the ocean is blowing through your hair. Next to you is a duffel bag full of essentials, at least what you could grab on short notice.  
Escaping the compound turns out to be a bit trickier than you had hoped. But with a close friend at the guard station, you sneak by and out of the gates without a second glance. You make it out of town before dawn, watching the sun rise over the water. 
By now, you know that your superior officer will be conducting roll calls and noticing your absence. You did not care enough to go back, but you wish your brain would stop letting you worry about what was going through their brains. 
‘Is she alive?’ For now, yes. 
‘Did she go alone?’ Technically, no. 
The distant sound of tires on gravel does not surprise you. Neither does the noise of the rusty truck door opening and closing. The softness of sand being kicked up by big boots creeps up to the side of you. You do not have to look up to know who is next to you, but you do anyway. 
The dusty old camouflage pants with thigh holster and sweaty brown plain t-shirt gave him away in an instant, but your eyes continue higher. His unruly beard covers his irked expression, his mouth set to one side as he chews his inner cheek. You’ve known him long enough that he chews his cheek whenever he gets upset. 
He looks down into your eyes and you watch as they wander across your form. 
“Your brothers are worried sick about ya. I told ‘em I would come to look for ya,” He sits down in the sand next to you, “Runnin’ ain’t gonna fix our little problem.” 
“Our problem, Sy? First, it is not our problem. Second, it is not a problem. It is a baby. And this baby wasn’t exactly planned, I understand that. But I don’t expect you to do anything. We can get by on our own.” Your voice breaks and you hate that your eyes are blurry with unshed tears. 
“I wasn’t callin’ the baby a problem. And if ya think I’m lettin’ ya raise this little hellion on yer own, yer outta yer damn mind. Now, yer brothers are my best friends in this whole damn world. And yes, they’d kill my ass if they knew I got you pregnant. But they’d resurrect me and kill me again if they knew I’d let ya off on yer own. Shit, I’d kill my ass too.” 
You swallow the lump in your throat, but it does nothing to stop the fat tears that escape when you blink your eyes. The shuddering breath you take is enough to have Sy scooting closer to you and bringing you into his arms. 
“Don’t cry, Sweetness. We’ll figure this out. Together,” He kisses your forehead and snakes a hand down to your stomach, “Let’s give ‘em a chance, alright? Make a better world for ‘em and all that nonsense. I can’t fathom losing both of ya, let alone either of ya.” 
“We should have been more careful—” 
“Well, we weren’t bein’ careful. And now, we got a kid on the way. So what? Every time we face a little trouble, you gonna run?” He wipes away your tears, looking into your eyes again. 
“I’m really scared, Sy. What are we going to do?” The tremble in your voice has Sy holding you tight. 
“Well, to start, we tell yer brothers about the baby. Then, whaddya say we go over to the doctor, have everything looked at? Make sure he’s growing fine and everything.” 
You laugh, not able to hold your amusement. “He? You already know it’s going to be a boy?” 
“Well, ya know my folks had five boys. Yer parents had two before they had ya. Odds are it’s gonna be a boy, Sweetness.” 
“I’m a little shocked. What changed your mind about everything? You were not this verbal when I told you yesterday.”  
He bites his lip, looking out at the sea before answering. “I guess I was too scared to admit how I felt about ya. And then, outta nowhere, you give me the best gift in the world, and I didn’t know how to handle it,” He takes a shaky breath, then continues, “I’m sorry I waited ‘til now to say it, Sweetness. I love ya. I love ya, so damn much. And nothing would make me happier than to raise this little one with ya.” 
You climb into Sy’s lap, holding his face in your hands, and resting your forehead against his. “I love you too, Sy.” You lean in and slot your mouth against his. You allow him to take the lead as his hand tangles in your hair. 
Pulling back, you smile at each other. Nothing needs to be said. You turn in Sy’s lap and watch as the waves crash in and out. You have each other and you have this baby. With a love that burns bright like yours, neither Hell nor high water would be able to snuff it out. 
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A/N: Title taken from There Is A Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths. It seemed perfect for this story. 
**Tag List** 
@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @thabiddie23 @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @peyton-warren @raccoon-eyed-rebel @geralts-yenn @rebelangel1102
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stuckonthefiction · 2 years
Text
sweet dreams are made of this
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader AO3 Rating: Explicit 18+ Minors DNI Word Count: 2571 Summary: Eddie comes home late and finds you all alone in bed. Warnings: Smut, unprotected PIV, creampie, oral sex (F!receiving), praise kink, light choking, pre-established relationship, pre-established consensual somnophilia (always talk to your partners beforhand!) Author’s Note: okay i haven't written anything in a good hot minute so i'm a bit rusty. dedicated to my fellow whorefire besties (who know who you are)
Tonight had been a long one. It was a typical Saturday for the lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin which involved playing with the band until the bar closed. The crowd per usual wasn’t too heavy. Eddie didn’t mind when you didn’t come see the shows all the time. In fact, he insisted on it.
“My hearing is already going to be shot to shit with this stuff. I’d rather protect your lovely ears, babe”
But he would be lying if he didn’t miss seeing your face in the small, dingy bar crowd. So when he pulled his van into the small space next to the trailer, he couldn’t wait to crawl into bed with you. It was his favorite thing to do ever since you officially moved in a few months ago. Now Eddie had graduated, Wayne had decided to transfer to a different plant on the other side of Indianapolis, stating that he’d “had enough of Hawkins.” The trailer now was just the two of you.
Eddie quietly set his keys on the hook by the door, smiling to himself when his eyes trailed to the set of keys that belonged to you hanging next to his. He knew you would most likely be asleep by now so he made sure to keep his noises in the living room area to a minimum as he took his shoes and jacket off. Tiptoeing his way down the hallway into your shared bedroom, what Eddie found made him grin like a mad man.
There you were, laying in bed with the blankets kicked away, in only a t-shirt and only in a t-shirt. He stood there in the doorway for a moment, just taking in the scene before him. The small lamp on the dresser was the only thing that was giving the room any sort of light and it was just enough for Eddie to notice how every so often your thighs would squeeze together. Brows furrowed in sleep and a soft pout on your lips, you shifted from laying on your side to laying on your back, leaving your legs wide open. 
Ever so slowly, he undoes his belt and slips his jeans right off. He makes his way over to the bed, pulling his sweaty shirt off in the process. You shift a little bit when Eddie puts a knee at the edge of the bed. He pauses but you still slumber.
Lightly, he leans down and kisses you just above the knee. His deep eyes peer up to gauge your reaction. His lips begin a small trail of kisses along your thighs. He hears a small hum come from your own lips but nothing alerts him to you having woken up. Eddie keeps his eyes on your face as he starts to move his mouth closer and closer to your center. His hands come up your legs to lift them slightly up to rest on his shoulders.
He gives you an experimental lick and almost moans when he realizes just how wet you are. You must have had some fun while he was out. Or at least tried to. He gives you another lick, causing your hips to jerk up a little into his mouth. And as much as he loves how peacefully serene and unaware you are of what he’s doing, Eddie loves it even more when you areaware. He loves hearing you, loves it when you grip your hands tightly into his curls.
He knows you’re somewhat of a light sleeper depending on the situation. And so he latches his plush clips onto your clit as he slowly begins to slip his middle finger into you. Your body reacts before your brain does, thighs squeezing just as you contract around the finger that’s moving at a snail’s pace in and out. A good swirl of his tongue to your clit is what causes you to release a low moan, blinking your eyes open.
“E-eddie?” You whimper out the question, “That you?”
“Mhmm.” He moans into you. The vibrations and his movements are all so much. Your hands scramble to find purchase in his hair. Your hips arch forward into his welcoming mouth and it’s almost as if your hands are pushing him into you even further. He takes this moment to slip a second finger into your wet center, moving both digits out at a faster speed.
“Oh my god, Eddie.” You can feel his smile. That smug bastard. He nudges his nose against your clit in the way he knows you like and pulls back a little bit. His deep, dark eyes glinting in the lowly lit room as they move up your body locking onto your own lids that are still heavy from sleep. The way he looks at you in these moments, sometimes they’re enough to make you combust right then and there.
“Miss me, sweetheart?” He gives your inner thigh a small nip here and there before moving to let his tongue move in small circles on your clit once again.
“A-always, baby.” Your eyes squeeze shut as your back arches up when his fingers hit a particular spot in you. “H-hate being here without y-you.”
Eddie can tell you’re getting close from the way you’re squeezing tighter around his fingers and the way you’re stuttering when you speak. You must have been edging yourself the entire night just waiting for him to get home. And though it sounds weird on paper, it touches him to know just how much you missed him even if he was gone for just a moment. The idea of someone missing him that much? He never thought he’d have it. He never thought he’d have someone like you.
“I-I’m,” You start. You feel like you can’t form words. Eddie knows your body like the back of his hand. He just knows exactly what you want, exactly what you need.
There’s so much happening. There’s the pace and the curl of his fingers inside you. The softness of his lips, the circles from his tongue, both over your clit. He’s using his other hand to keep your thighs open, to keep you from closing them tightly around his head which you so desperately want to do.
Your eyes squeeze shut. Your jaw drops open in a silent scream. Your back arches just a bit and your hips are lifted. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire. And at the same time, you feel like you’ve just jumped into a freezing cold lake because if you weren’t fully awake before, you most certainly are now. The only thing you can think of, the only thing that’s able to cross your mind is Eddie.
And you don’t realize how much time has passed since you hit your highest peak. Your eyes open again slowly and look down at the end of the bed. Eddie is still between your legs. He’s pulled back so his head is resting on one of your thighs, softly looking up at you. His messy hair tickles your skin, making you shiver in your post orgasm state.
“Hi.” He says, kissing your thigh before moving so he's crawling up your body. He places his arms on either side of your head.
“Hi.” You managed to breathe out. Though your body is limp, legs feeling like jelly, your hands move to hold his waist. “How was the show?”
“Eh,” Eddie leans down to kiss your lips, “the same as usual. What were you doing while I was gone?”
“I-” You start as he’s moving his lips against your neck. Nipping at the spot just below your ear that drives you crazy. “I-I missed you.”
“Mm.” He hums. “I could tell judging by how wet you were when I only just got home.”
Your hands move up his body and pull at the back of his neck so he brings his lips back to yours again. This time the kiss is heavier. Eddie slides his tongue across your bottom lip, asking for permission which you gladly give as you moan into his mouth. You feel one of his hands move to cup your cheek in a sincere way that is just Eddie in the best way possible. Your hands are threading through his hair again, tugging lightly in a way that communicates you want more. More of him.
He’s grinding his hips down against your thigh and you can feel how hard he is through his boxers. His lips have moved to your neck again, finding the spot just below your ear that drives you crazy.
“Eds,” You manage to get out. Your body is still so sensitive and the way he’s moving against you right now, the way his cock is pressing against your clit through the thin fabric that separates the two of you, is almost enough to get you to your second orgasm if he just keeps going. But you need him. You need him now.
“Please.”
Eddie can hear the neediness in your voice when you say that. So he pulls back from you much to your dismay but it’s so he can quickly shuffle off the last bit of his clothing. You proceed to slip the t-shirt you were still wearing off. You swear you hear your boyfriend groan as soon as he catches sight of your tits. He leans over to the nightstand next to the bed and quickly grabs a condom from the pack that had been scattered across the piece of furniture.
He manages to get it on himself, hissing slightly as he feels his hand slide along his length. Your arms are out in front of you trying to grab at him so he’s close to you again. Back in position above you, your legs wrapped around his waist, Eddie holds his base as he lightly taps your clit with the tip of his cock. You whine impatiently at him. He shoots a grin down at your pouting face before he lines himself up with your entrance.
The both of you let out moans as Eddie enters you slowly. The heels of your feet are pressing into his backside, pushing him in deeper as he goes. When he bottoms out, Eddie pauses for a moment. His head is pointed down so he can look at where the two of you are connected. His wild hair hangs like curtains around his face.
“Baby,” You whine again, your body aching for him to move. “Fuck me.”
“Gimme a second. Because I swear to god, sweetheart, you’re gripping me so tight that I could finish before I even get started.”
And after a few quick breaths, Eddie slowly moves to where only the tip of him stays in you before quickly slamming back in.
“Fuck.” He groans out, his head dropping down so it lays in the crook of your neck. His hot breath sends shivers down your spine. Or maybe it’s the force of his hips slamming against yours that’s making your body convulse as it is.
“You feel so fucking good, Eds.” You moan out, tilting your hips up to meet his thrusts. “So g-good.”
“Christ, sweetheart.” His lips are right next to your ear. “I swear this pussy was made for me. So glad you’re mine. So fucking glad.”
“Ah, always, Eddie.” You moan out just as he hits a particular deep spot inside you. “A-always been yours.”
One of his hands moves to grip your head and turn your face to his so he can pull you into a searing kiss. His pace is picking up now, chasing his own release. But Eddie pulls back again, just resting his forehead against your own. His hand moves from your head to slip between the two of you, finding its home right on your clit. It causes you to cry out in immense pleasure. The tight warmth in your stomach is increasing. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You know Eddie can sense it too because his fingers are moving faster against your clit.
“Eyes on me, sweetheart.” He pants, moving his other hand from keeping him balanced above you to your neck. He holds your gaze on his own. Somehow his deep eyes look even darker at this moment.  “I want to see you come undone for me. Show me what only I can do for you. Show me what’s mine.”
The movement of his hips, the slide of his length moving in and out of your core, the pressure on your clit, the way he’s holding your throat in such a way that isn’t restricting your breathing but in a way that says you’re mine, the intense eye contact he’s holding with you right now. All of it is too much and you’re teetering on the edge. He knows it too.
“Be a good girl. Cum for me.”
And that undoes you. You think you let out a scream but you’re not sure. You feel like you’ve gone deaf, like you can feel your heart pumping at a rapid speed. Your body goes limp. Your head wants to roll back but you can’t. Eddie’s grip and the fact that he’s so intent on making sure your eyes never leave his. Your chest is heaving. You can feel droplets of sweat sliding down between the valley of your chest.
“God. Eddie.” You murmur. Your voice sounds so unfamiliar. You feel like you’re out of your own body. “God, you fuck me so good.”
“Y-yeah?” His hips haven’t stopped moving. The vice grip you have on him is making it harder and harder for him to keep up his pace. It’s starting to get erratic as he chases his own release. “T-tell me more, baby, please. Please.”
“You’re so, so good, Eds. Fuck me so good. I love it so much.” The corner of your mouth curls up slightly into a smile, hearing how desperate he now sounds. “No one else can do this to me. Just you.”
That’s what pushes him off the edge. He groans so loud as you feel his cock twitch inside of you. Eddie thrusts into a few more times as he cums. He practically collapses on top of you. But it’s okay. You’re used to it by now.
You both lay there, letting your heart rates slow back down to a normal pace. After a moment, Eddie pulls his softening cock out of you. You release a small whine when he does it, missing how full he made you feel. He removes the condom and tosses it in the small trash can you insisted on having next to the bed.  
Finally, he turns to where the two of you are laying side by side, facing each other. Your eyes are already closed again. He softly runs his hand down your arm, gently lulling you to slumber once again.
“Falling asleep on me already, babe?” Eddie mumbles softly. “I fuck you that good, huh?”
“Damn right.” You murmur back, moving to snuggle into his chest. His arms move to wrap around you. “Wore me the fuck out, Eds.”
He laughs a little as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. His eyes also start to feel heavy as sleep pulls him in as well.
“Love you.” is whispered quietly into his skin. So quiet he can barely hear your voice.
“Love you more.”
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hayleythesugarbowl · 8 months
Note
So I was gonna ask for another Angela Giarratana x reader but your request are closed 🥲🥲🥲 but I think we can talk this out *slides you the 1.04$ left in my bank account* but fr if you feel up to it or wanna save this for later feel free to and you don’t have to do it but I was thinking maybe Angela gets jealous when someone from the cast flirts with reader but it’s part of a bit Angela doesn’t know about and maybe they were playing legacy, betrayal or something idk that’s up to you and I know you don’t write smut so maybe like Angela gets jealous and leave hickeys and bite marks on readers neck when there having a water break or something 💁‍♀️ idk just a lil something or write what you want bae it’s up to you not me ❤️❤️ remember 1.04$ has your name on it 😉
Jealousy, Jealousy || Angela Giarratana x reader
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
summary: oneshot where angela finds herself jealous when another member of the cast flirts with you and she decides to let you know that you’re hers
word count: 1.3k
warnings: hickeys
a/n: ahh sorry this took so long babes but i’m so happy to get this request out for you. this is a little bit out of my comfort zone so keep that in mind but i hope you enjoy this!! also im ashamed to admit my smosh games lore is a little rusty so i didn’t include legacy betrayal hope that’s ok!! also i wouldn’t dream of making anyone pay for a fic so forget about it 💋🎀 enjoy!!
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“Ok, I’m working on a character,” Amanda said to you as you waited on set for filming to start. 
     “You? A character? Never!” You teased her, feigning shock. You’d been at Smosh since long before Amanda and ever since you’d known her she was always working on one character or another. 
     “Her name’s Annabelle Charlemagne,” she said, already adopting an accent, “and you are absolutely stunning darling, can I buy you a beverage?”
     She was fully in character now, so you played along.
     “I’d be honored,” you batted your eyelashes at her.”
     “I just have never seen such exceptional beauty. I am charmed.” She grabbed your hand and kissed it. 
     You glanced over and saw Angela watching you from afar. Catching you staring  at her she quickly looked away. But not before giving you a wink and a smile. 
     Angela. You two had been dating for a few weeks now, and you couldn’t be happier. But you hadn’t exactly told the rest of the cast yet. You were planning on waiting for the right time, but you hadn’t found it yet. 
     You knew it was killing Angela. You had no problem keeping your relationship a secret. It was easy and safe and you didn’t want to deal with your friends’ thousands of questions just yet. 
      But Angela was not as great at keeping her mouth shut about everything. You knew she wanted to let the cat out of the bag. Or rather, couldn’t help herself from accidentally giving everyone a sneak peek at a paw or whiskers. More than once you’d had to cover for her calling you ‘babe’ or her absentmindedly reaching over to touch you.
     Not that you two didn’t have your hidden moments. Sneaking off in between shows or volunteering to go work on something together. You couldn’t stop a blush from forming on your cheeks at the thought of all the things the walls had seen here that all of your friends hadn’t. 
     Now, Amanda’s voice brought you out of your thoughts.
     “Anyways darling, I’d love to get your number but—oh, I’ve forgot my cellular, one moment, let me fetch my husband’s.”
     She stared at you, losing the accent. “Get it, cause I’m flirting with you… but I’m married? And British!”
     You laughed, “Right. Well I’m still waiting on that beverage.”
     She fluffed her hair, “In due time.”
     “Alright everyone, quiet on set.”
     You shifted away from Amanda, preparing to start filming. You looked around at the rest of the cast—you loved your job here. Glancing over at Angela, you tried to catch her eye, but she wasn’t looking at you. She was looking down, a troubled expression on her face. You’d talk to her after this shoot, you told yourself. Maybe you two could even get lunch together later. It seemed like forever ago since you’d done that last. And you hadn’t even been dating a month yet! The director’s booming voice brought your attention back to the present. 
     “Rolling…and action!”
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
     “Alright everyone, take 10,” the director called. Everyone in the cast began filing out of the studio, taking a break before they had to finish filming this show. You joined them, heading to the next room for water.
     You had just stepped towards your bag and began to rifle through it when you felt someone behind you.
     “Guess who?”
     You didn’t turn around right away. You knew who. 
     “Spencer?”
     “Try again,” she said, quieter this time with a hint of amusement in her voice.
     “Chris Kattan?”
     “Ok, if one more person tells me that—” she started incredulously.
     You turned around, smiling at her “Kidding.”
     She reached out and brushed a strand of hair back from your face. “Hey beautiful, I haven’t had time alone with you all day.” 
     It was true. It felt like you spent less and less time together—what between filming and trying to not seem like you were dating.  You leaned into her touch, and she stepped towards you. 
      You remembered yourself and spun back around, “Angela, not here.”
      You felt her breath on your hair as she leaned towards you and said, “I don’t see anyone here.”
     “Angela, what are you—”
     Without warning, you felt her mouth on your neck. She began trailing kisses down your shoulder and you suppressed a shudder, leaning into her. 
     “Ange, what if someone sees us?” You whispered, glancing around nervously.
     She kept her lips on you, biting down softly as she sucked at the skin on your neck.
     You closed your eyes, savoring this stolen moment despite yourself. 
     “Angela—”
     “(Y/n)? You want me to stop?” she looked up at you.
     “No, definitely no.”
     She continued, bringing her lips to your ear. She was silent for a while, and then—
     “Still thinking about Amanda?” She breathed, her voice hoarse.
     “What?” You managed. That was the last thing you’d expected her to say. 
     “I saw you…earlier,” for the first time, you detected a hint of uncertainly in her voice.
      You tried to recall what she was talking about. 
     “You know, with the ‘oh you’re gorgeous darling’ and ‘why thank you take me home with you’,” You could tell she was trying to keep her tone light. You tried not to smile at her dedication to the character, even in a situation like this. 
     “That? Angela, she was showing me a bit,” you couldn’t help but smile now. “I—Wait, is that what this is about?”
     “What a girl can’t kiss her girlfriend without having ulterior motives!” You raised an eyebrow at her and she looked down sheepishly. “Ok, fine maybe I was a little jealous.”
     You marveled at the fact that Angela Giarratana was jealous. Because of you. You’d made her jealous. “Well, you don’t have to worry about anything. I love you, remember.”
     “Yeah you do,” Angela waggled her eyebrows and leaned her head against your shoulder. You rolled your eyes at her—she was impossible—but you realized you were grinning.
��    “I love you more.”
      You looked at her against you, this beautiful woman who cared so much about you, and kissed her. She kissed you back wrapping her hands around your neck. 
     “Thought you were afraid people will see us?” Angela mumbled against your lips. 
     “I don’t care,” and as you said it, you realized it was true. You didn’t need to wait for a “right time” to tell your friends about your relationship. “I don’t care if they find out.”
     “Glad you felt that way, because if we didn’t tell them that hickey sure will.”
     You looked down at your neck where a mark was already starting to form, evidence of Angela’s jealousy. 
     “Good, let them know I’m yours.”
     “I like the sound of that,” Angela said, “Shall we?” She gestured to the doorway.
     You nodded, taking her hand and walking into the next room and over to the center  where all of the cast was mingling, taking advantage of the break.
     When you towards them, all eyes eventually turned to you and Angela, settling on your interlocked fingers. Your friends traded looks. 
     Amanda spoke up first, “(Y/n)? Angela? You, and you?” 
     “And is that a hickey?”
     “You wanna take this or should I?” Angela asked you, her eyes twinkling. Everyone stared at you and Angela, awaiting an explanation.
      “Nothing much to tell, other than you all should know Angela’s a possessive, jealous—”
     “Well if you’re not going to tell it right—” she interrupted loudly. 
     You looked at her, letting her know you were only teasing. 
     “Well, they always say actions speak louder than words,” you said before kissing her again. This time in front of everyone else. “Besides,” you whispered, only to her, your lips trailing down her jawline “it’s only fair if I return the favor and make you mine.”
     “Oh, (Y/n), I’ve been yours for a while now.”
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ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed this!! i have another angela x reader in the works so keep your eye out for that and as always feedback is always appreciated even negative i swear <3
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jobean12-blog · 1 year
Text
Fair Grounds for Love
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Cowboy AU)
Word Count: 1,772
Summary: Joel takes you to your first real state fair
Author’s Note: This is for @the-slumberparty June Writing Challenge and my item is lemonade and my setting is festival/fair as well as a Summer Bingo Event and Choose your own AU box. I also did one with Biker!Joel and since my friends are super supportive and kind I decided to do Cowboy!Joel too because both are the best! Thank you to Navy and Roo for hosting and thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️ All dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: lots of fun and fluff and sweetness, it gets flirty at the end ;) 
This photo below was taken by Iglesias Mas for Strange Way of Life 😍
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Joel Miller Masterlist
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Joel insists on picking you up for your date to the state fair, ever the gentleman and loving any excuse to spend more time together.
He knocks and waits, his smile growing when he hears you start to unlock the door.
You open it just enough to say, “close your eyes, Cowboy.”
He takes a step back and pulls his hat off then puts it over his face.
When you step out you rest your hand on his arm. “Okay.”
He takes his hat down and it tumbles from his fingers as he focuses on you, his gaze sweeping from your head to your toes.
“My god,” he says.
You grin and bend down to grab his hat before standing and placing it back on his head.
“Does that mean you like it?” you ask, tone cheeky.
You step closer and press yourself against him. “You look pretty good too…if you can stop drooling and close your mouth.”
He pulls you closer. “You are the sexiest, most beautiful woman I have ever seen darlin’.”
His arms circle around your waist and he kisses you hello, the sweet gesture quickly turning heated as his hands smooth along your curves and he drags your hips into his.
When he releases you he let’s out a sigh, kissing you one more time, quickly, before taking your hand and walking you to his truck.
“If we don’t leave now I’m gonna march you right back into the house and we’ll never make it to the fair.”
You giggle and hop into the truck when he opens the door. The ride is short and it almost takes you as long to find parking.
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“Wow,” you whisper as you enter the fairgrounds, “I’ve never been to anything like this before.”
You look around at all the rides, tents and booths, a vibrant array of colors and sounds, and try to take it all in.
“Let’s go have some fun darlin’.”
You nod excitedly and keep hold of his hand as you wander toward some of the booths, stopping at the first game you see.
Joel tips his hat back and gives you a wink before he takes the toy rifle and gets into position to shoot the target.
You try not to giggle when he leaves just a shred of black on the star-shaped target, failing to win you a big stuffed toy and grumbling something about poor mechanics.
“I thought all you cowboys knew how to shoot!” you tease.
“Gimme something with a decent lever action and I’ll shoot the feathers off a duck’s butt at five hundred feet! This thing…”
He looks at the old and rusty toy. “Sucks!”
“Yeah…yeah,” you continue to tease. “And that poor duck!”
You make a pouty face and he smirks, taking your chin between his fingers and pulling you in for a kiss.
“Don’t worry darlin’,” he murmurs against your lips. “It’s just an expression.”
He slips his hand into his back pocket and hands the guy working at the game booth another dollar.
“One more try.”
You keep still, watching the target intently as Joel readies himself and starts to shoot.
With a squeal you throw yourself into his arms. “You did it!”
“Just needed to warm up,” he says with a triumphant grin.
You tap your chin as you try to pick out your new toy. “I’d like the stuffed dog please, the brown and white one.”
The guy at the game booth pulls it down and hands it to you with a smile.
You squeeze the dog to your chest and smile over it at Joel.
He reaches for your hand and you take it.
“Can we go on a ride now?” you ask, tugging on his arm.
“Sure darlin’.”
You spot the Viking swing ride; it’s squealing and creaking motor making Joel grimace as you approach.
“This has gotta be older than me,” he jokes.
“I’m scared but I want to go on!” you tell him.
Pressing yourself into his side the entire time you’re waiting on the line you finally move up to take your seats, suddenly unsure if you want to hold onto the railing or Joel.
“I apologize in advance if I scream really loud and squeeze the life out of you.”
He presses his lips together to stifle a laugh and you narrow your eyes playfully, startling when the ride jerks forward. Without a second through you wrap both your arms around his bicep and smash yourself against his side.
Now you feel his laughter and you would scold him except the ride starts getting into full swing and the only thing you can do is scream with terrified glee.
He tucks his hat away so it doesn’t blow off his head and gives you a reassuring squeeze.
When you step off the ride you lean into Joel’s side to steady yourself.
“Did ya have fun?” he asks.
“Yes!” you squeak. “Everything is a little wobbly though.”
“I got ya darlin’,” he says softly, tucking you under his arm. Let’s get something sweet.”
He leads you over to the food area and you look around the bustling fairgrounds, trying to decide what to get. The air is filled with the aroma of various foods, each one tantalizing and you finally choose something, deciding first to have lemonade.
“The booth is a lemon,” you giggle as you wait on the line. “It’s so cute!”
“Wait ‘til you get a taste darlin’.”
You take a moment to peruse the menu, and your mouth waters with anticipation as you read the enticing choices. Classic lemonade, freshly squeezed and tangy, is available for those seeking a traditional experience. But there's also a selection of tempting twists on the classic, such as strawberry lemonade.
Taking Joel’s advice you go for a classic lemonade, your eyes widening when the vendor hands you a cup so large you can barely close your fingers around it.
Joel takes it from you, the cup looking like a regular size in his large hands.
“Here,” he says, holding the straw up to your lips.
The cool, tangy sweetness dances on your taste buds, instantly refreshing and invigorating. The combination of tart lemons, the subtle hint of sweetness, and the chill of the ice soothes your senses on this warm day, making you feel rejuvenated.
“It’s sooooo good. Oh my god.”
You take a second long sip before he does the same.
“Shit,” he agrees with a chuckle. “I’m almost forgot how good this is.”
You reach for another drink but he swipes the cup away and instead plants his lips on yours.
“Mmm,” he hums. “Sorry darlin’…just need some extra sugar.”
He adjusts his hat and winks.
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“Where are we going now?”
You’re back in Joel’s pick-up, resting against his shoulder, your stomach full and your feet tired.
“It’s a surprise.”
He pulls off the road and into a small clearing, stopping the truck at the edge of a cliff.
Before he opens his door he holds up his finger, signaling for you to wait, and jumps out, running around the truck to help you.
“We’re so high up!” you say, peering near the edge. “It’s so beautiful!”
The cliff offers a panoramic view, stretching far and wide. Below, the vast expanse of the earth unfolds, revealing a tapestry of rolling hills, meandering rivers and lush greenery.
While you’re admiring the view he lowers the tailgate and sets down a blanket in the truck bed.
“Come ‘ere darlin’,” he says, placing his hands on your hips to help you hop up.
Once you’re comfortable and resting in his arms he threads his fingers through yours, idly rubbing his thumb across your knuckles.
The sun, now hovering low on the horizon, casts long, dramatic shadows that dance across the landscape. The golden light bathes everything in a soft glow and the distant mountains are silhouetted against the radiant sky.
You stare out at the breathtaking scenery, but every time your eyes slide to Joel he’s looking at you.
Slowly he brings your hand to his lips, kissing your fingertips before releasing them and curling his arm around your waist to tuck you against his chest.
You push his hat off his head and run your hand through his hair then dance your fingers across his jaw and over his beard.
He closes his eyes and hums, leaning into your touch. His hand moves from your waist and he slips it under your top, rubbing softly and slowly, making the heat in your body build.
Your hand drops to the collar of his shirt then slides inside the open buttons, his skin warm and smooth. You move lower, popping open the next button, then lower to the next, revealing more of his skin.
“Darlin’” he murmurs, his lips pressing to your neck, lightly nibbling until they meet the shell of your ear.
With a shiver you hook your thigh over his, the thick muscle settling between your legs and creating the perfect friction as you shift against him.
He reaches forward with his thumb and sweeps it across your lips, leaning in to kiss you. At first it’s tender and soft but when his name falls from your lips, desperation in every syllable, he rolls over and covers your body with his, deepening the kiss until you’re a panting mess beneath him.
When he pulls away for air he rests his forehead to yours and squeezes his eyes shut.
“Fuck woman,” he groans as he pushes himself up and slides out of the back.
He extends his hand toward you. “Get in the truck. I’m taking you home.”
You crawl closer and grab the front of his shirt, dragging him back to you and chasing his lips.
“Nope. I can’t wait.”
“Darlin’,” he says softly, but it’s gritty with restraint. “I’m taking you home to bed like a proper fucking gentleman.”
Your hands slide up his chest and wrap around his neck so you can bring his mouth back to yours.
“Right now, I don’t want a proper gentleman,” you whisper along his lips. “I want you, Cowboy, fucking me in the bed of your truck, under the sunset.”
You slip from his grasp and lie back on the blanket invitingly. He sucks in a curse and stares, taking you in, the golden setting sunlight catching like little sparks across your skin, lighting you up like an angel.
With purposeful movements he charges back into the bed of the truck.
“You’re gonna miss one hell of spectacular sunset darlin’,” he simpers as he settles over you. “But I promise I’ll make up for it.”
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@sstan-hoe @laineyreads @justkinsey @beccablogsthings @pedritosdarling @lorilane33 @blackwidownat2814 @littleseasiren​
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daisies-daydreams · 1 year
Note
Hello hello. I’d like to request some Alejandro x F!Reader fluff where he makes her something homemade after she had a really rough day? 🥺 Ty!
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Pairing: Alejandro Vargas x F!Reader Category: Fluff Warnings: Slight Angst, Toxic Work Environment/Verbally Abusive Boss, Swearing Word Count: 1,370
Author’s Note: Hi! Thank you very much for your request. My Spanish is pretty rusty, and I apologize for any mistakes (feel free to correct me). Also, I couldn't help but think of this song ("Mi Ancla") while writing this. I hope you enjoy!
MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI
You rubbed your eyes as you yawned, exhaustion seeping into your bones. You had just gotten home from a long day at work, sitting on your bed while you listened to the raindrops patter against your bedroom window. You cringed when you thought about today. Apparently, you made so many mistakes that your boss called you into his office. His harsh words still stung, venom seeping into your heart and leaving a bitter taste on your tongue.
"Are you fucking stupid? We've been over this several times."
"You can't do anything right"
"I've never had an employee make this many mistakes. Are you trying to make me look bad?"
Your nostrils flared as you released a heavy sigh. You desperately wanted to leave your job, but you didn't want to burden your boyfriend, Alejandro, with supporting you while you searched for a new one. Your fists clenched as hot tears stung your eyes. You wanted to kick and scream and punch your pillow, your frustration boiling inside of you like lava. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn't notice the front door closing. Suddenly, a pair of muscular arms suddenly wrapped around you. You squeaked before whipping your head around, your boyfriend’s warm features greeting you. His grin slipped when he saw heavy tears streaking down your face.
“¿Cariño?¿Qué te pasa?” Alejandro asked, his brows furrowed. You shook in his hold.
“Nothing,” you stated dully. He tilted his head down and gave you a knowing stare.
“(Y/N), you know you can tell me anything,” Alejandro said as he moved to sit by your side. Your bottom lip quivered before you released a pained wail. Your boyfriend was silent as he drew you in even closer. “Shh, estoy aquí,” he repeated softly, his hand coming around to stroke your frizzy hair. You sniffed and pulled back.
“I-I’m such a failure, Ale,” you sobbed. His face fell, shattered by your own words. “I can’t do anything right at my job,” you cried. Alejandro shook his head as his hands gripped your upper arms.
“Mi vida, you are far from a failure,” he assured you. Alejandro's face suddenly hardened, his eyes darkening. "Wait...was it your boss again?" he asked. You sniffed, eyes sinking to look at your lap. "Culero," Alejandro hissed through gritted teeth. His grip on you tightened as he held you close, as if to shield you from the events that occurred today. Your body trembled as he rocked you gently.
"I-I want to leave so badly," you confessed.
"You can leave, no one is going to stop you," he said innocently. You shook your head violently.
"I can't," you muttered. His brows knitted together.
“¿Por qué? Cariño, this job is making you miserable!" Alejandro said exasperatedly. You sniffled, your words caught in your throat. "(Y/N), it makes my heart ache to see you hurting this much. Whatever reason you have for staying, I'm sure its nothing compared to finding a much better job," Alejandro explained.
"I can't because I don't want to be a burden to you!" you suddenly snapped . You clasped your hands over your mouth. Alejandro leaned back, his brows raising and lips curved into a deep frown.
"A burden? Cariño, you never have to worry about being a burden to me," he cooed. You sobbed as he kissed the top of your head.
"I just...I don't want you to feel the pressure of me relying on you while I'm trying to find a new job," you sighed. He hummed.
"Even if it takes months for you to find another job, I will always be here for you," Alejandro murmured into your hair. You gripped his white shirt, as you soaked his shoulder with your tears. He placed a chaste kiss on the top of your head. “Te amo, (Y/N)," Alejandro whispered, his husky voice unwavering. You pulled your head up to look at him. A small, tired smile grew on your face.
“Gracias por todo, Ale. Yo también te amo,” you murmured. "Te amo, te amo..." you whispered like a tired, broken record. Both of you exchanged quiet glances before he leaned his head down. You sighed as he latched his lips onto yours. Alejandro was usually a very passionate lover, his words and actions always full of vigor. But now, all you felt was a soft, sweet tenderness as his lips caressed your own. You slowly closed your eyes as the rest of the world faded away with your kiss. Your head felt dizzy as he pulled away, a blissful eternity passing in a few seconds.
"Have you had dinner yet?" he asked. You nodded.
"I picked some up on the way home," you said. He hummed to himself.
“Me too. In that case, why don’t you take a shower? I can make us a little treat in the meantime,” Alejandro offered. You smiled.
“That sounds lovely,” you said. He exhaled through his nose, his hands squeezing your arms as he rose to his feet.
“Take your time, hermosa,” Alejandro said, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. You nodded before he slipped through the bedroom door.
***
You took the longest shower you've ever had in your life. The warm water was a welcoming sensation, calming each and every one of your tired and aching muscles. You slipped out of the bathroom and changed into some comfortable clothes. A savory smell of something being fried wafted in from the kitchen. You smiled when you walked into the open area of your apartment. Alejandro was humming along to a song while he busied himself at the stove. Alejandro turned when he heard you enter, flashing a wide grin.
“Hola, hermosa,” he whistled, his eyes scanning you up and down. You rolled your eyes as you came around to stand at his side. You rested a hand on your hip.
“So, what delicious treat have you prepared for me tonight, Chef Vargas?” you piqued as you eyed the pan on the stove. You gasped as he grabbed your hand, twirling you around suddenly. “Ale!” you squealed. He chuckled before pulling you to him, your body flush with his. Alejandro gazed down at you, his hands coming down to gently rest on your hips. Your eyes flicked up to him.
“Bailar conmigo, cariño,” he husked into your ear. You nodded slowly, allowing the music to take over you as you rested your head on his shoulder. The rhythm was slow, gentle and steady, just like the way he guided you through the kitchen. It was so relaxing, you could’ve fallen asleep in his arms right then and there. Alejandro kissed your temple as the music began to dissipate.
You smiled as he moved some of your wet hair from your face. Your heart fluttered as you locked eyes and kissed again, this time angling your head to capture his lips more deeply. Both of you remained in your embrace before the timer suddenly screeched. Alejandro groaned before turning back to the stove. He flicked the burner off and flipped the fresh sopapillas onto a paper-towel covered plate. Your mouth watered at the sight of the golden-brown pastries.
“Is that face for the sopapillas or for me?” Alejandro teased with a cocked brow. You slapped his arm playfully, both of you chuckling as he reached into the nearby cabinet. Alejandro pulled down two containers and dusted the sopapillas with powdered sugar, then cinnamon. You were one step ahead of him, grabbing the honey from another cabinet as he whipped around to you. "Muchas gracias," he smiled before drizzling the liquid over the warm pastries.
Alejandro took you by the hand, leading you over to the couch. You smiled as you snuggled next to him, happily taking one of the treats and savoring every bite that melted on your tongue. A small smirk made it's way across your face.
"¿Qué?" Alejandro laughed. You leaned over, pressing a kiss to where some powdered sugar and cinnamon dusted the side of his mouth. He froze, eyes trained on you as you licked your lips and giggled. Needless to say, you were soon bombarded with kisses sweeter than any sopapilla.
____
Thank you for reading!/¡Gracias por leer! ❤️
A/N: I'm kind of tempted to make a Part 2. 👀
____
Translations:
¿Cariño?¿Qué te pasa? - Honey? What’s wrong? Estoy aquí - I’m here. Mi vida - My life Culero - Asshole ¿Por qué? - Why? Mi amor - My love Sí - Yes Te amo - I love you. Gracias por todo, Ale. Yo también te amo - Thank you for everything, Ale. I love you, too. Hermosa - Gorgeous Hola, hermosa - Hello, gorgeous. Bailar conmigo, cariño - Dance with me, honey.
Muchas gracias - Thank you very much.
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cordeliaflyte · 6 months
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The Monster in the Lake
By Martín Espada
A city boy, I always wanted to go fishing. The DiFilippo brothers brought me
to a secret lake where we cast our lines into the dark, the barbed lures
spinning. I snagged a monster in the lake. I fought the monster and my reel
jammed. One of the DiFilippo brothers said: That’s not a fish. We waded
into the water and dragged a rusty box spring onshore, festooned with
the lures of failed fishermen. We plucked them off the coils and dragged it
back. Whenever we went fishing, we would have more treasures to collect.
Late that night, I felt the monster swimming beneath my feet. I walked
down to the basement and saw my father hunched over a table in his white
T-shirt and boxers. He flinched as if I’d caught him whispering on the phone
to a woman who was not my mother. What are you doing? I asked. I saw
the pages of a Spanish dictionary and a legal pad where he had copied down
the meaning of the words in longhand. I’m learning Spanish, he confessed.
My father the rabble-rouser with the bullhorn, my father the Puerto Rican
who spoke for other Puerto Ricans in the papers, my father who left his island
at age eleven and kissed the runway when he flew home at age thirty-eight,
my father who had the Spanish slapped from his mouth like a dangling
cigarette by teachers and coaches in the city where I grew up, could feel
his Puerto Rican tongue shriveling, coated with gravel, drained of words.
I left him in the basement, riddled with the hooks no one else could see.
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ejzah · 6 days
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A/N: Celebrating (mourning?) one year of our little show ending.
***
To Date Nights
Deeks wandered out onto the patio, finding Kensi curled up on the loveseat under the setting sun. He leaned over the back, pressing a kiss to her neck. Sighing, Kensi tipped her head back, catching his lips with a quick little move.
“Hi.” She grinned up at him and smoothed her thumb over his bottom lip.
“Hi. You want a beer?” he asked. He held out a pair of Modelos, rounding the loveseat to slide in next to Kensi.
“I already pumped, so definitely,” Kensi said with a grateful smile. Deeks popped the top off, handed it over, and kept the other for himself.
He spent a minute just staring out at the reddish hues of the sun. They’d put the twins to bed 20 minutes ago, then he’d cleaned up from dinner. It had been a long day; good, but long and exhausting as most days were.
With another sigh, this one content and a little sleepy, Kensi slid over a few more inches, tucking her arm through his and resting her head on his shoulder.
“You know, today is exactly one year since we found out,” Deeks murmured, twining his fingers through hers. He drew a small circle in the center of her palm.
“Mm, found out what?”
“That you were pregnant.”
“Oh my god, has it really been that long?” Kensi gasped, suddenly sounding more awake. Deeks chuckled at the mild shock in her voice.
“It’s ok, we’ve been busy.” He shook his head slightly, turning to meet her gaze. “It’s crazy how much has changed since then. We got two more kids, new jobs—”
“A few more grays,” Kensi teased, gently tugging at a stray curl.
“Hey now!”
“Oh you know I like it. Especially since you grew your hair back out.”
“Still crazy for the fluffy hair,” he teased back.
“Always. Even when you’re 90 and completely gray.”
“Aw, I love you too.”
Kensi snorted, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth, and Deeks joined in. They giggled for a couple minutes—the result of nearly six months with twins and general contentment.
Eventually, they settled down again. It was nearly dark by now, twilight bringing a romantic air with it.
“Hey, does this count as a date night?” he asked, mostly as a joke. Kensi shrugged.
“We have drinks, we’re together, and technically there aren’t any kids in sight, so I’d say yes,” she decided. She tucked herself a little closer. “You know what happened last year when we had our first date night,” she reminded him suggestively.
“Yeah, we made Donut and Croissant.”
“Exactly.”
He lowered his eyebrows and Kensi answered by raising one of hers. “Are you saying we should try for a round two?” he asked slowly.
“Maybe not with the same results just yet, but there’s no harm in practicing,” Kensi said. “You know, so we don’t get rusty.”
“Yeah, no, definitely. We want to stay nice and limber and lubricated,” he agreed.
“You are so ridiculous,” Kensi murmured against his mouth. “To practice.”
“To date nights,” he added as Kensi climbed into his arms.
***
A/N: The show may be over, but Densi will live on if I have anything to do with it.
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coffeecakefanfics · 4 months
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Home with You ~ Astarion Smut/ F!reader
Summary: Basically, just the grave scene inspired by In A Week by Hozier.
Warnings: Fingering, oral (f receiving), PiV, mild fluff.
*I haven't written smut in probably three years so bear with me being rusty lol.*
Also the biggest of thank you's goes to celestialoutsider for beta reading and editing for me <3
~
The moonbeams that danced between the branches illuminated the cold stone in front of Astarion and (Y/n).  His name etched into the stone was still covered in a thin layer of dirt, but for the first time his grave was adorned with a single flower.  A gentle, loving hand had placed it there.  So many emotions swirled through the pale elf’s mind at the gesture.  The one that stuck out to him the most was the one that sent warmth through his chest, if he thought about it for more than a second, he might have recognized it as a mix of love and gratitude.
“I have a gift for you” the voice next to him drew his gaze to her face.  We watched with curiosity as she untied the small bag of holding from her side and rummaged inside.  “Ah there it is!” she beamed as her fingers finally grazed what she was looking for.  The dark red liquid splashed against the glass.  Astarion cracked a smile and gingerly took the bottle from his lover. 
“This looks expensive,” He commented, turning the bottle over in his hands.  The gold lettering shimmered in the moonlight, and the wine inside looked deep and rich. 
“It was,” (Y/n) bit back a smile, “But I thought it was worth it.  I was saving it for when we finally got these worms out of our heads,” she took the bottle from him and popped it open. The sweet smell went straight to his taste buds, saliva gathering in his mouth.  It had been so long without a good wine. 
“This however feels like a much better occasion to celebrate,” She smiled at him, and held the bottle out to him.  With a bowed thank you he took a sip.  Gods it would have paired so nicely with a creamy cheese or tender steak.  It was in fact rich, and sweet, it was a wonderful change from the vinegar they had at the grove party.  
“That really must have cost a fortune,” he smiled and took another sip before passing it off to her. 
“I’d argue that your taste is the reason it was so expensive,” she smirked and took a sip.  Astarion laid a hand on his chest in mock offense. 
“I can’t say you’re wrong, but it still hurts,” his grin was spreading wider. 
 The pair sat and drank over half of the bottle before the giggling started.  It was a wonderful change of pace from the fighting for their lives.  Here, under the moon, wrapped in the warmth of a good wine it was just the two of them, safe and happy.  The emotions swirled in his head now, everything else was clouded by the woman sitting next to him giggling over a dumb joke that he couldn’t bother to remember.  It was loud and unbothered, followed by a sush and giggles from him.  The smile on his face never faltered.  His ruby eyes took in (Y/n) fully, how she threw her head back when she laughed, how her eyes softened and pupils blew wide at the sight of him, how the wine had flushed her cheeks, how the sight of him made his undead heart leap. 
“You’re perfect.” the words had slipped out.  (Y/n) pursed her lips, her cheeks flushing more. 
“Well, you’re amazing,” she smiled at him, scooting closer to him till their knees touched. His nails scraped against the side of her scalp gently as he pushed her hair away from her face. Her own eyes took him in now.  His face softened as she scanned his features.
“Thank you,” his voice was hushed so that only she could hear the words spilling from wine touched lips, “for everything.  You’ve given me a second chance at life, and I want to live it with you at my side.”  
She placed her hand over the one holding her head, the other finding its way onto his chest, right over his heart. “I’m here with you, for as long as you want me,” she spoke tenderly. 
He captured her lips in a gentle kiss in response.  They moved as one, perfectly in tandem.  He slid his body over hers, laying them down onto the damp grass of the cemetery.  She sighed into his mouth as his leg slid up to spread her legs in order to rest between them. (Y/n)’s hands slid into his silver curls tugging him impossibly closer, earning her own groan from the man above her. He leaned his weight onto one elbow and used the other to cradle her face in his hand. He held her so gently, like she would spook and run away from him still.  After what felt like forever they parted for air, moving back just far enough to look each other in the eyes.  Their chests heaved, eyes were blown wide, lips wet and swollen, and smiles plastered wide across their faces. 
(Y/n) tugged his tunic off of him, running her hands down his torso after he was free from the garment.  Her fingers were so warm against his cold skin.  They ignited a fire in his belly as they softly roamed the expanse of his chest down his belly and toyed with the band of his pants.  He pressed his lips to hers again as her hands continued to explore his body. Her lips danced across his throat and up the edge of his ear, biting gently causing a moan to fall from him.  
“What a tease,” he said through a grin. 
“I learned from the best,” she breathed with a matching wide smile.  Her fingertips ran up his sides and over his shoulders using the position of her arms to tug him down to her.  His desire for her pressed down onto her clothed heat, earning a small sound from them both. Their restraint was chipping away at every roll of their hips against each other.  Astarion slid his own hand up (Y/n)’s shirt, he pulled away from her embrace to remove it from her body. 
“Look at you,” he let his eyes rake over her frame hungirly.  It was his turn to explore her body.  He pressed soft kisses to the sides of her jaw and down her neck, sucking over her pulse and nipping at the faded spot he feeds from, and she moaned in response.  Gods how he wanted to drink from her, to feel her blood coursing through his veins, becoming one in a different way for a little while. 
Another time he thought to himself, dragging his lips across her collar bones and down the valley of her breasts.  His fingers were ice against her perked nipples.  A gasp left her lips as her chest arched into his touch.  Astarion smirked at how responsive she was to him already.  His mouth found her other nipple causing another moan to tumble out of her mouth.  He took his time toying with each breast before kissing his way down to her waistband.  His lips followed behind the garment kissing down her right leg and crawled back up her left leg after discarding it into the dirt. 
“You’re so beautiful my love,” his voice was low and Desperate.  His eyes looked so dark and hungry, the sight above her made (Y/n) shudder with anticipation.  His fingers traced the tops of her thighs, teasing. “You’ll let me taste you, won't you?” she couldn’t tell if he was begging or wanting her to beg but she nodded her head furiously either way. 
“Please Star,” her voice was soft and dripping with a need that made his cock impossibly harder in his pants. “Please touch me, I need to feel you,” she begged.  How could he say no to such a pretty thing?  He found his way down to meet her sex.  The sight of her dripping for him had him licking his lips before spreading her and licking a wide strip from her entrance to her clit. (Y/n) threw her head back and loosed a loud, lewd moan.  The feeling of his mouth on her finally aiding in the burning desire that had been dancing in her belly since he laid her in the grass.  The sounds she was making as Astarion circled her clit were music to his pointy ears.  The way she was gripping his hair and grinding onto his tongue made his head swim.  
Astarion pulled away from her heat for a moment, earning him a whine.  He licked her essence from his lips and leaned against her left leg, using his middle finger to toy with her entrance.  Her moans filled the air again as she ground against him. “Come on sweet thing, I know you can use that pretty voice to ask” he teased.  She whined in response but managed to find her voice. 
“Please make me feel good. Want it so bad,” her hips rolled as his fingers brushed her clit. “I can take it Star, please,” her voice cracked slightly. He bit his lip at her honeyed words, his fang slightly dug into the skin.  His own need was growing unbearable at this point, and maybe he felt a little guilty at ripping her from the edge.  He slid his finger into her.  Thank yous tumbled out of her lips, more sweet music as he added another.  His dexterity quickly brought her back up to that peak.  Astarion growled and brought his lips back to her clit.  With a loud moan she snapped, white hot pleasure surged through her body as she gushed on his fingers and mouth. 
“That’s my good girl,” he praised, working her through the pleasure. He gently ran his hands up and down her thighs, coaxing her back to him. She looked so beautiful fucked out below him.  Her hair splayed messily around her like a halo, her cheeks ever flushed, and her lips parted as her chest rose and fell with deep breaths. 
“Can you give me another sweet girl?” he asked tenderly.  She simply nodded at him with hooded eyes and croaked a “Yes.”  Her throat was raw from the moans that had ripped through it.  He moaned at the feeling of his cock finally being let free of his pants.  (Y/n) licked her lips at the sight of him kneeled over her.  He gave himself a few pumps before lining himself up with her entrance.  He let his head and eyes roll back and he sunk into her, relishing in how warm and wet she was for him.  
“Is this all for me darling?” he asked, pulling his hips back.
“It’s all for you, always” Her mewls fed his ego. He held the backs of her knees holding her legs open as he thrust back into her.  The snap of his hips had her crying out in pleasure and rolling her head to the side. Throwing all caution to the wind he didn’t hold back his moans, letting her know just how much he was enjoying himself. 
She was surrounding him, her cunt, her smell, her touch as her hands gripped his shoulders.  He felt her flutter around him.  The way she was squeezing him was enough to make his thrusts falter.  He released her legs and wrapped an arm around her back, pulling her into him, the last bit of self-control he had gone.  He laid his head on her shoulder breathing in her scent.  “You’re gonna make me cum,” his voice was no more than a whimper.  
“Please, with me” was all she managed to let slip before he gave her a particularly deep thrust, spilling ropes of his cum in her.  Her own orgasm hit her right after, causing her walls to flutter and her legs to squeeze his hips.  They lay there tangled together catching their breaths for a minute before he pulled out and laid on the soft grass next to (Y/n).  She turned onto her side and brushed a curl that had fallen out of his face.  She gave him a tired smile.  He found her hand and pressed a kiss onto her palm.  This felt right to him, laying with her, loving her.  He decided that he could die there again and die happy.  He didn’t care if they found them decomposing under the wisteria tree, he was with her.  He was where he belonged.  He was home.
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lenreli · 8 months
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Day 6 - Restraint
[AO3]
Groggy, Hob hears screams outside the room he’s locked in, frowning as he sits up and ― stops, handcuffs and chain tying him to the spot and he sighs. If they didn’t take his shoes or bag, he’d be able to easily get out, and sure, breaking a finger or two to get out of restraints is doable, but he’d rather a cleaner way. 
The door opens and black mist pours in, and Hob can only watch in tired amusement in seeing his partner eventually coalesce into his humanoid form, eyes somehow black and yet showing a raging inferno. Dream walks up to him, heels clacking as the entity looks down at him. “Can I have a bobby pin?” He crooks, words rusty from the days stuck in here with only minimal food and water. 
“Out of all things, a hair implement?” Dream says, raising an eyebrow as Dream kneels down next to him, frowning as the entity catches sight of the cuffs. There’s a sigh and a black pin appears in Dream’s hand, then put into Hob’s. 
“Easy to use,” he mutters, stretching his fingers as he uses the pin to open the cuffs, smiling as the cuffs fall to the floor, Dream’s eyes blazing as they stare at his wrists. “Love, I’d love to do whatever elaborate story you’re building in that huge mind of yours, but I’m tired,” Dream’s eyes flash, and his words are swallowed by Dream kissing him deeply, clawed hands digging into his jaw. “I also feel horrible and would like a shower, and food and―” he manages between Dream’s devouring mouth, somehow catching sight of his bedroom, and his bed as Dream sits on top of him.
“Sleep is most important,” Dream growls, velvet voice making him shiver, and Hob chokes down a laugh. 
“Course you’d say that,” he wheezes, grabbing onto soft black hair as Dream’s hands go under his shirt, black nails dragging down chest hair, down to his pants. “Even like this? Next you’ll be telling me that you wanted me carnally in 1689,” he jokes, and Dream’s pause is telling as Hob laughs, feeling almost delirious, “really?” 
Hob gasps as a hand grasps his cock, pressure making him moan as Dream stares up at him. “Perhaps this will be easier for you in the Dreaming,” Dream intones, slithering up his body as Hob giggles, and there’s a press to his temple and the world clears as he stares at the huge stained glass, the expansive Gothic throne room. “You did need the restful sleep,” a voice says behind him, and Hob sighs.
“And definitely no ulterior motives for a certain King,” he teases, moaning as Dream bites down onto his neck, hands roving down to his cock, clothes disappearing. Hob groans, arousal clear and bright as Dream strokes him as he sags into the other’s hold, hands reaching behind him to hold onto Dream’s hair.
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tabooiart · 3 months
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i’d kiss your rusty and cb on the mouth btw no big deal y’know
OMG THANK YOU ANON!!!!!!!!
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VERY quick lil ceeb for you <3
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heli0s-writes · 2 years
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Idk why but I have this theory that stevie boy prays when his girl is going down on him.
a/n: this took so long! i hope you like it, i feel kind of rusty with writing lol. enjoy the catholic guilt <3 1.5k words of deepthroating & Please stop reading if you are not 18+
brooklyn after dark masterlist
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“blessed”
He’s got it bad.
He stuffs it behind his stern face and resilient body and a collected, competent demeanor but at the heart of it, in his heart, Steve is truly, embarrassingly, a lovestruck boy and intimacy is a hurdle he’s having a hard time clearing.
He doesn’t want to hurt you. He’s always afraid he’ll lose control, so he keeps it as vanilla as fucking possible and it is probably driving you just as crazy as it is him.
But then you kneel down in the middle of the floor and there’s nothing he can possibly hold on to, he thinks you must be out to kill him.
You tell him he’s pretty, and that he’s got these gorgeous, long legs, and when you start kissing up his knee and rest your face at the crease of his groin, his head is so cloudy he might as well be floating.
He’s smack dab in the center of the kitchen this time, condemned to yet another instance of helplessness. His hands have nowhere to go, and he begins to stutter for alternatives, but you shake your head, already on the move.
He shudders. You want him and you can’t wait another second. You want him here, now, with your bare knees on tile, the pre-heated oven and its dinner plans shelved for later because you. want. him. And that’s the end of that.
You begin unbuckling his belt, fingers pulling apart the leather, unclasping, unzipping, and then you lift your mouth off him long enough to let the denim fall to the floor.
He groans, already beginning to breathe harder, his abs flexing as you nose your way up one thigh. You sigh as you go along, eyes shut as if trying to concentrate on the mere scent of him. You take deep breaths, moan lightly, and the barest hint of a smirk begins forming on your face when you press your forehead to him and murmur, “I want it so bad, Steve. I’d let you keep me like this all night for it.”
His entire body jolts and he thinks he should get more furniture just for the safety of surfaces alone. You don’t seem bothered by his muteness—you’ve done this so many times with your special talent for making him ache all over with just a few dirty words. He’s stil learning how his body can move now that he’s in love—now that he feels safe giving himself over to someone.
You slip your fingers over his erection, fully hard now because you look like that.
“I love the way you smell.” You breathe him in, rubbing at him like a cat, lewd and devoted in equal measure. “Love how it feels on my face.” You show him, looking up now, your cheek pressed against the curve of his shaft, eyes reflecting of the overhead light and his own breathless face back at him.
“You’ll let me suck you here, right?”
His head falls back, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as the heat in his face runs down his neck and chest. Why do you have to say things like that? Why do you have to make him feel so much?
You mouth the tip of his cock, tongue lapping at the damp spot of precome through fabric before taking it in, as if you could put him in just how he is. He’s so hard at the entrance your warm mouth, your breath huffing over his cock, the cotton layer catching moisture like an inescapable wall keeping him from feeling the rest of you—but it’s hot. It’s so fucking hot and you keep on doing it, suckling and moaning and grabbing at him. You pant, watching his expression, taking in how he responds.
He worries the heel of his palms to his brow—but he can’t help staring. Can’t help the way he keeps twitching every second. Can’t help the low whine that falls out of his mouth when you finally spring him free and let him bounce on the tip of your tongue.
“Baby you’re leaking,” you tease, flicking at the slit where he dribbles out, “Mmm, it tastes so good.”
“Christ,” he grunts, face burning.
You grin, giving him a firm suck, and then a soft kiss at his tip. You show him your wet, pink tongue, your open throat. And then you swap all that chatter for work. You take him in, easing him past your back teeth, his cockhead rubbing at the entrance of your throat, pressing into the soft muscle there as it grips around him weakly.
Your eyes roll back and— you look— so pretty.
“Oh, god…Oh, hell..”
You keep your jaw slack and bob your head steadily as if suggesting that he take the lead. Your hands cup his sac, rolling the sensitive skin between two fingers, letting the rest lie in your other palm. He feels so completely taken, all of him, warm and encased and throbbing.
To your delight, he slowly begins rolling his hips. Experimental at first, half-hearted and worried about startling or choking you, but at the first reflex of a gag, your eyes light up before fluttering half-closed and you practically mewl.
Fuck.
He pulls away, “Sorry��I’m sorry—” but you grab him by the back of his thighs and swallow him down, opening up more, letting the saliva collecting around his dick dribble out down your chin. You look so easy and vulnerable, entirely receptive to however he wants to use you.
His cock is pulsing, making squelching sounds as it rubs against your tongue and slicks itself up with spit, pushing some out with every pull. You’re arching your body into the correct position for him, and he places one hand on the back of your neck to hold you steady as he tries to get—ah, right there, just a little more—
He practically shouts when he stuffs himself into your throat. The tip of your nose is pressed into his groin, chin warm on his balls as he shifts, feeling crazed about it all. The resistance, the squeeze of your muscles—he reaches around to your neck and blindly feels for the bulge his cock is creating.
“Holy shit,” he blurts, “holy fuck, holy fuck, baby—that feels so good—oh my god—oh fucking god.”
And then he starts spinning off in his head, all his Catholic upbringing like an unstoppable flood—those stupid prayers for serenity and grace—lead us not into temptation—racing across his mind because if he doesn’t cling onto something he’ll lose it completely. He’ll choke you—he’ll choke you over and over with his cock and he’ll love it.
There are tears in your eyes, but you don’t pull away and you don’t make him stop. Your fingers are digging into your legs, but you keep looking at him, asking silently for him to see—for him to notice how much you want him like this, all the time.
The noise is filthy when you yank free, and you look wrecked, leaned back on your haunches. Your breaths are ragged and weak, and you bite at your lips in a daze.
“Again,” you say quietly, hoarse. “Please, again.”
And all those prayers flit away. He forgets every sacrament. The only blessing he’ll ever need is you, uttering again.
He shoves himself back in, forcing a loud gag out, and he feels insane for it—feels utterly crazed for more of this sensation. Shocks are sprinting up and down his spine, his toes are curling, his body tense and loose at the same time. He doesn’t want to stop feeling you, doesn’t want to stop seeing you attached to his cock, worshiping it with your tongue, tears brimming in your pretty eyes from the effort.
“Your fucking throat,” he grunts, too rough now with his hand on your head to force you down, but unable to stop, each thrust bringing him closer and closer. “Fucking incredible. So—dirty—you naughty fucking girl."
There’s spit everywhere. Down your shirt, long lines of it dripping from his dick to your mouth when you gasp for air. Your lips are swollen so pretty and bright.
Steve hauls you up, bullies you against the nearest surface and fingers your cunt until his fingers are coated. He gets behind you, makes you taste your own pussy, and then fucks his way in, choking off your cry with his hand.
And it doesn’t take long. You squirm and clamp down and sob when you come, and Steve barrels headfirst into it soon after, his cock pulsing and unloading inside.
“Steve,” you gasp, turning your head to mouth at him instinctively. He’s still hard, fucking gently into you.
He paws at your breasts, your face, belly, feeling every inch of you now that he’s cleared this hurdle. Now he knows what he wants, knows how to get it.
His cock is filthy with slick and semen. He’ll need you to clean it off.
“I’m not finished yet,” he says, certainty firmly in his chest. He smiles into your hair, pulls out slow and sloppy and fingers the inside of your mouth. He'll do exactly what it is you wanted-- what he wants, too.
He’s gonna keep you here all night.
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