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#that someone thought your gif was worth reposting......
thelassoway · 1 year
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Ted Lasso || For Science 🥼 Redux
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moumouton4 · 5 months
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Hello there! I was thinking if you want to write more for Mash but if you wanna write another characters, that’s fine! I’m sorry I just live my boy Mash🥺❤️
7 Minutes In Heaven || Mashle Burnedead x fem!reader
A/n : Finally made it omg it too me so much time but it really worth it. Hope you all enjoy it 🍦🥮
Warning : Fluf fluf fluff, I tried comedy since the first season gave us almost only this, still trying to make it a strong suit 😂
Masterlist ⚜
I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it
Word count : 2011
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You were all sitting in a circle on the wooden floor of Mashle and Finn’s dorm. It was only supposed to be a nice and chill afternoon gathering with all your friends, as y’all had the afternoon free for the first time in the year. Lemon had brought cup cakes, Dot a lot of candies, you the drinks and Lance, well, Lance only brought himself but it was the intention that counted. Of course a lot of puff creams were present at your little party.
The atmosphere was light and cheerful, everyone was talking and laughing. After a moment, y’all reached the agreement that it was time to play a game or two. After a few proposals, truth or dare was the first game to catch everyone’s attention.
“Come on ! Come on !” everyone cheered.
“I’m not going to answer this” Lance stated, as a pink hue spread on his cheekbones ( if you ask nicely I can tell you what question he was asked hehe )
“Okay… then I dare you to give me your necklace for the rest of the day !” Dot laughed loudly like an antagonist ( Light Yagami supremacy )
Lance’s hand flew to his jewel that he clutched in his hand “Fine fine I’ll answer” he said looking away “3 times…. Happy now ?”
“Yes very” smugly said the red haired man.
Then it was your turn and Lemon, who was in a very playful mood sing-sang “Y/n truth or dare ?”
You looked in front of you, you just knew by the tone of her voice that she was going to do something, your eyes met Mashle’s and then hers. She fricking knew ! And she was surely going to add her touch to it. You were focused on the truth part, thinking about all the possibilities of questions that could be asked. So you went with the dare.
“Dare” you said, half reassured about what was to come.
“I dare you too…” she thought about it looking everywhere around the room, and then her eyes landed - as if faith had decided it - on the door of the storage room of the dorm. A smirk appeared on her lips as she stated “I dare you to stay in there with Mashle for 7 minutes” her finger pointed towards the nearby door.
Your eyes widened “Huh ?!? Did you even go there ? It’s so narrow, we won’t never fit…” as you continued trying to find your wait out of this dare, Mashle sat there, looking at the people speaking, his head looking at one side and the at the other - as if he was watching a tennis game - a puff cream in his hand as he munched on it. He seemed… unfazed, true to his form.
“Nah Y/n it’s your dare. You don’t want to be a loser now, do you ?” she teased knowing that you were far from being someone to let herself be pushed around.
“Fine I accept the dare. But now it’s his turn to say if he is up to or not” you hoped he would refuse so that the next truth would be on him, but as much you wanted him to accept, find yourself in this enclosed space, so so close to his strong body…
“No no no !” a roaring voice abruptly stopped your train of thoughts “Why is he the one allowed to be in there with her ! He is already stealing all the girls’ attention ! That’s unfair ! I want to be with her there too !” Dot continued, his exuberant personality on full displated, making you all chuckle, Lance sigh and Mashle look at him with indifference.
“Why is being in a closet part of the game ?” he asked, his mouth still stuffed with the sweet pastry ( that’s a pleonasm lmao of course it’s sweet )
“It’s like seven minutes in heaven, you know the game” added Finn, who tried to explain to his friend.
“You mean seven minutes in a closet ?” the raven haired boy asked rather matter of factly.
“In heaven idiot !” chipped in Dot, who was still very unhappy that Mashle was the one who could enjoy the company of a female “It’s a gorgeous woman you’ll be with, not some brooms !”
His words touched your heart, making you blush, it’s been years you know him and yet you still can’t keep a straight face when he says this kind of thing.
“We don’t have any brooms”
“OOH COME ON JUST ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION !”
“Yeah it’s easy to stay in a closet” Mashle finally answered, making Lemon smile as she got up and rushed to you, ready to push you in the storage room with the boy she knew you liked.
With his long legs, Mashle was within a second in front of the door, ready to open it “Nooo !” screamed Finn “That’s fine Imma open it for you guys” he said sweating, he didn’t really want to have another door to be replaced again.
Mashle didn’t say anything and entered docilely in the storage room. You followed suit as Lemon literally threw you inside. You also almost crashed to him - and his huge muscles gahh - sending a wave of red on your cheeks. The door closed rather roughly, because of how excited your friend was.
“Enjoy your seven minutes in heaven guys” she shouted, so that you could hear her.
“Yeah but don’t get too cozy in there” Dot screamed from behind the door.
Now it was just you and him - and your over-beating heart. You wondered if he could hear it in this dimly lit room, though knowing him he wouldn’t have even noticed. You felt your face getting warmer, it felt like you were in a dream. Like how come you even got you and him in this narrow room. Your brain was working at full speed to manage and find something to talk about and not make these seven minutes the most cringy and awkward seven minutes of both your lives - again Mashle doesn’t even seem to know those feelings.
As you were about to say something he went first “What are we supposed to do in there ?”
Did he seriously not have a single clue ( of course not 😂 )
“W-well, usually people talk and see if they like each other more than friends… I guess” your brain was actually sweating, trying not to blurt out that you’re so in love with him since the second day - because seriously on the first one he looked pretty dumb.
“Okay…” he said, looking down at you. He was pretty tall, besides the narrowed space was close to pressing you together, so as he spoke to you you could almost feel his breath on your hair “And what happens if they do ?”
Your eyes widened slightly, you clearly weren’t expecting this answer coming from him, since when was he so invested in a discussion that wasn’t about puff creams. You swallowed hoping that your voice wouldn’t crack as you answer.
“T-they kiss ?” you said, rather as if it was more a question than an answer, your arms raising at your sides to show you weren’t sure 🤷‍♀️ - you were “O-of course they have to both agree about their feelings”
“Okay. Do you like me ?” he said bluntly. You choked on your spit “Huh ?!? W-why are you asking this ?”
“Well to know if you like me too, so that I can kiss you, like the game says” he simply said, as if he didn’t at all reveal to you that he liked you and wanted to kiss you. You hoped he at least knew the game wasn’t actually demanding him to act on his feelings if he didn’t want to.
“Erm- huh… you know… well… yes ?” you said, almost scared there could be a wrong answer to his question.
As soon as the words left you lips he somehow managed to come closer to you, his chest was now pressed against your, if you leaned you could set your head on his strong body.
“Can I kiss you ?” he asked. And now your throat clearly couldn't speak any words. You only nodded. He leaned in, his hair slightly grazing the top of your hair. You looked up at him, gosh he was breathtaking even in this closet. Leaning further down, his breath fanned over your lips “I’m going to kiss you now”
And with that his lips - finally - made contact with yours in a soft almost shy kiss, as if he was scared - in the back of his head - to hurt you in any way or do something that could be seen as wrong or inappropriate. On the other side of the kiss you melted against his mouth, his lips tasted like whipped cream and sugar. But then soon, too soon, he pulled away. His cheeks were somehow flushed and for the first time you’ve seen his gaze avert from yours as if he was being… shy ? about the whole thing, after everything he has said before.
You gently wrapped your arms around his neck, so as not to startle him and brought your head closer to his “Do mind if I ?” you didn’t even need to finish your sentence that his voice, now hoarse came out breathlessly “Yes”
You kissed him, your eyes closing ( I seriously his would stay open in the beginning and you’d have to be like “Mashle can you close them it's weird” lmao. Not saying you can’t keep them open if you want though ) This time, he wrapped his arms around you drawing you even closer, his kiss was a bit clumsy and seriously you were almost suffocating in his embrace but still it was an amazing moment.
He turned his head to deepen the kiss, your nose brushed, eliciting a quiet giggle from you. He smiled in the kiss. This was different from everything he has ever known, he silently promised himself to protect you with everything he could, just like he promised his father. After you broke the kiss he took a sharp intake of breath as his sole action put him in a state of out of breathness that he never encountered before. Maybe that was being in love.
Not long after the door opened as Lemon’s head picked inside, soon followed by Dot’s who was very eager to see if anything had happened and if Mashle had yet again stolen another woman of this damn school. You both jumped away from each other, Mashle almost went through the wall.
“The seven minutes are over !”
“No please don’t tell me you’ve got her too ?!?” in reality Mashle didn’t get any girl from the beginning of his curriculum. There was just Dot being overly jealous, because he didn’t attract any women like he would have wanted.
“Iiiiiiiih Y/n ! You did it girl !” she wanted to hug you tightly but three people couldn't enter the storage room at the same time, so she waited for you to come out. She almost tackled you to the ground.
Mashle went back to sit down, his cheeks still reddened from the kisses you shared in that enclosed space. Both Finn and Lance looked at him weirdly as if they had seen something totally out of the ordinary, and it was. The raven haired boy, even apart from you, couldn't keep his eyes from drifting to your form. Hugging you or kissing you more seemed very enticing and soothing at the moment.
“Y-you okay Mashle ?” asked Finn, looking at him and then back at you, who was coming to sit back down with the others.
“Yeah I just wish the game wasn’t called after seven minutes. It’s too short” he said, biting in yet another puff cream, as if he yet again didn’t confess something rather personal. The other boy blushed at the admission. Dot continued grumbling in the background and Lance was looking through the window, trying to act unfazed and tough. Your eyes met Mashle’s and he gave you a smile before extending a puff cream at you. Yes it was clearly his way of saying that he loved you.
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ilyluffy · 8 months
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𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟏: 𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐬 。°。° 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sebastian michaelis x afab!reader
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut {minors + ageless blogs dni!! you’ll be blocked}
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dom!sebastian, teasing, exhibitionism, sex under the table, fingering, reader wears a skirt, petnames “kitty”, implied cum eating/multiple orgasm
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 0.6k+
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𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐑. this was especially true when there were guests over. the last thing that was needed was to give visitors a bad impression of the mansion and those who resided there by doing something that could be considered indecent.
however on this evening sebastian was feeling more bold than usual. perhaps it was because you had the nerve to tease him right before company arrived on the phantomhive doorstep. you thought you were so sly trying to work him up when he didn’t have the time to absolutely ruin you. how cute.
you left him no choice. sebastian had to put you in your place and he chose to do so when everyone was sitting at the dinner table together. as everyone else engaged in mindless chatter, sebastian removed his black gloves from his hands. a few seconds later you feel his cold fingers glide up your thigh.
the action surprises you. turning away from your meal you turn to the butler next to you. you’re met with a smirk as sebastian’s tongue wipes across his bottom lip. “i would think carefully about what you do next,” sebastian warns as he pushes up your skirt under the table. your bottom lip trembles as he begins to rub your clothed clit. “wouldn’t want any of our guests to find out about any elicit behaviour”.
regret washes over you for what you did earlier. your lips part to apologize and possibly beg for mercy. before you can you feel your panties get pushed aside. the gasp that escapes your mouth catches the attention of the person sitting across from you.
sebastian explains away the noise for you, assuring the other guest that you’re simply enjoying your meal. knowing you’ll only get in trouble for doing such a thing again, you bite your lip to hold in any further sounds as sebastian slips a finger inside of you. he doesn’t waste any time, immediately starting to pump his digits.
you grip the end of your skirt so tight that your hands feel numb. not pausing his teasing for even a second, sebastian leans in close to your ear. “eat your dinner. it would be rude not to finish after the cook used so much of his time to make it”.
there’s no doubt that his words are more of an order than a suggestion. so you raise one of your shaking hands and pick up your fork. it’s a struggle to finish your plate especially with sebastian knuckles deep inside your pussy but it would be unwise at this point not to listen.
“good kitty” sebastian praises as you do what he says. “was the trouble you caused a few hours ago worth this result? does it feel good?” the butler purrs as you look up at him with pathetic watery eyes.
“s-sebastian i’m close” you warn him instead of answering his question.
in reply sebastian simply hums and curls his fingers. that makes you drop your utensil with a clang. by the time more individuals gaze in your direction to see what’s wrong, you’ve already made a mess in sebastian’s palm.
“i-i’m okay. so sorry” you apologize after some concerns were raised about your well-being. someone even asked if you were sick. of course you quickly reassured them that you were fine. meanwhile, sebastian’s cleaning your cum off his hands with the handkerchief he kept in his pocket.
“such a pity i couldn’t taste you” sebastian sighs once everyone was put at ease and their focus is off of you. “not to worry. later i expect you to come to my room. 𝐖𝐄’𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄”.
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2022–2023 © ilyluffy — do not repost or translate my work. likes, reblogs, and comments are welcome
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saetoru · 1 year
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tee do you ever think about how telling rich boy gojo you’re proud of him makes him caught off guard a bit? everyone just brushes off his achievements because they’re to be expected so the first time he hears it from you it makes him do a double take :(
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[ PROUD ] GOJO SATORU.
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you say it off handedly the first time, just a casual statement as gojo playfully boasts about acing a quiz he didn’t even study for. his head’s on your lap and you’re scrolling through your phone with one hand while absentmindedly playing with his hair with the other, and it catches him by surprise.
“guess how much of a genius your boyfriend is,” he grins, “i got an A on that quiz i forgot to study for. pure genius, huh?”
because that’s gojo, praising his own accomplishments for himself so no one has to—filling the void alone because no one will. you chuckle quietly as your nails rake over his scalp, moving your hand to gently pinch his cheek as you nod.
“very genius,” you agree, and he grins gleefully—because that’s enough. it’s a small acknowledgment, but he doesn’t dare hope for more. and then your next words make him pause, make him wonder if he heard you correctly. “i’m proud of you, toru.”
proud.
and in all honesty, it’s a casual statement. it’s almost like you said it without even fully thinking about it, but it sounds so sincere—so painfully sincere—that his breath hitches in his throat. it’s the way the words are so easy to slip from your tongue, gliding off like they don’t need a second thought, like being proud of him is normal, like it’s as involuntary as the beat of your heart.
you seem to notice his reaction too—because if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t soften your face like that, or cup his cheeks like this right now, leaning down to press gentle kiss after the other across his face. it’s like you’re making up for years worth of moments that have been brushed aside, like you’re making up for the hurt parts of him that yearn for just one time that someone really looks at him. you press a kiss to the tip of his nose, across his forehead, along the angle of his cheekbone until one final press of your lips meets his own.
“‘m very proud of you,” you hum, rubbing a thumb over the soft flesh of his cheek, “always am. even if it was just luck this time,” you add teasingly, pinching his nose.
he grins, let’s the feeling bubble up his chest and spread until they reach his fingertips, let’s the warmth tuck itself under his skin and knit into his muscles as he relaxes against your hold. because here, when it’s just you, when the world’s not looking for gojo and he gets to just be satoru, you appreciate the small things no matter how trivial they seem to be.
even just doing well on a quiz.
“hey,” he defends, “it was a hard quiz.”
“it was over the first chapter. the easiest one, satoru.”
“but you’re still proud,” he winks, but you know it’s just to hear you say again, just to grant him one more opportunity to listen to the foreign words so he can really engrave them in his brain.
and maybe he thinks it’s the last time he’ll hear them, that it was just an accident and you’ll never repeat them again—because why would you be proud of him? why be proud of things that are expected?
but it doesn’t stop you from whispering them against his forehead once more. “yes, i’m very proud,” you murmur before pecking the skin.
“lots to be proud of when you’re dating me, sweetheart,” he says smugly—but if his voice is a bit strained and his lips are a little wobbly, you don’t mention it, and he’s grateful. “i’m a real catch, huh?”
“oh yes, i’ve won the lottery,” you nod, playfully flicking his forehead. and then your eyes turn tender, and your smile is sweeter, and the way you hold his face is as delicate as the love on your expression. “i love you, toru.”
“love you too, you sap,” he teases, but the look on his face is content, hopeful even, that maybe he has something to be proud of besides himself for once.
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© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok
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your honor i luv him :( he’s my baby :(
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juniperskye · 3 months
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I Never Do This.
Based on the following ask: Aaron wakes up naked in an equally naked stranger's bed after a drunken one-night stand (possibly leading to more?) but he's so embarrassed (and hungover) because he never does stuff like that. Reader makes him breakfast and coffee and tries to reassure him that it's okay, it's normal, etc. And that for a guy who was blackout drunk and doesn't even remember, he still performed very well in bed! @nyxwolph thank you for requesting this!
Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader
Smut/Fluff
Word count: 2909
Not edited - please be kind.
Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, language, explicit description of sexual activity, mentions of alcohol, intoxication, mention of the BAU team and a case (no details), mention of divorce (celebrating a divorce), let me know if I missed anything!
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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Aaron’s head was pounding, he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had happened last night. He rolled over in bed, stretching his arm out, to be met with the warmth of someone’s body. Aaron’s arm retreated back to his side and his eyes shot open, a new pain rushing to his head from the harsh morning sun. He found his gaze dragging down the expanse of this stranger’s body, she was laying face down, her hair sprawled across her pillow.
Aaron couldn’t help the heat that came to his face as he noticed your lack of clothing. He glanced down at himself and felt embarrassed at the fact that he too was stark naked. He tried his hardest to recall the details of last night, he didn’t do one-night stands. Hell, he didn’t do anything without careful deliberation.
He remembers going to the bar with the team after the case they’d just closed, they had all definitely deserved to let loose. He remembers the first glass of whiskey, and then Morgan bringing a round of tequila shots over, then the second round of shots from Garcia, then the next whiskey Dave brought to him and God, how many drinks had he consumed last night.
His thoughts were interrupted as you started to stir, rolling over to face him, your eyes still closed. The heat returned to his face as the sheet slipped, exposing your breasts as you turned.
“Mmm, good morning Aaron.” You mumbled.
Aaron couldn’t help but smile at your adorable morning voice, laced with sleep.
“Good morning...” He replied, mentally chastising himself for not knowing your name.
You could sense the awkward pause at the end of his greeting, like he wanted to say more, but didn’t or couldn’t. Your mind drifted to last night, he was drunk, truthfully you too had been pretty drunk…having gone out with your friends to celebrate the finalization of your friend’s divorce (her ex was a real piece of work, and it was truly a blessing). You had probably indulged in one too many green tea shots but this handsome gentleman in your bed had been a welcome souvenir of last night’s festivities. Ahh, that must be the reason for his pause… he probably didn’t remember your name.
You finally opened your eyes and scanned his face; he was absolutely gorgeous. You couldn’t help but admire his features as you reintroduced yourself to him. A small smile graced his lips as he heard your name.
“I’m sorry.” He let out a breath.
“No worries! You up for some breakfast? Oh, and there’s aspirin on the side table” You offered.
“Oh, um thanks, and yeah maybe. I just, I think it’s worth mentioning, I never do this sort of thing.” Aaron sat up and rubbed the back of his neck as a blush creeped its way onto his cheeks.
“That’s okay! I don’t really either. Pancakes?” You moved to get out of bed, grabbing a t-shirt and slipping it over your head.
“No, I mean it. I don’t think I have ever had a one-night stand.” Aaron reiterated, visibly cringing at how crass it sounded.
His comment probably should have offended you, implying that perhaps this was a common occurrence for you. But you couldn’t help but sympathize with the man in front of you. Not only was he clearly embarrassed about the fact that he’d engaged in casual sex, but also that he seemingly put his foot in his mouth.
“Aaron, it’s okay, seriously.” You moved to sit at the foot of the bed, reaching gently for his hand. “First of all, you have just as much right as anyone else to let loose and go home with a stranger. Secondly there is no need to worry, this is a judgement free zone we are both consenting adults. And third, despite being three sheets to the wind, the sex was amazing.” You smiled softly.
Aaron let out a breath he had no idea he was holding. “Thank you. Truly.” Aaron said, his gaze shifting to your hand clasped in his own.
“So, how about that breakfast?”
“That would be great.” Aaron moved to get up, looking for his boxers.
You reached to grab them off the floor, handing them to him before making your way to the kitchen, wanting to give him that bit of privacy.
“Alright I have everything to make pancakes, eggs, and bacon! Does that sound okay?” You looked back to the bedroom.
“That sounds amazing.” Aaron came to sit at one of the bar stools resting at the kitchen island.
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Aaron watched as you flitted around the kitchen, grabbing all the necessary ingredients to make the breakfast you’ve promised. Reaching for various pans and mixing bowls. He glanced around your apartment, taking in the space. It was pretty eclectic, you had books, trinkets, jewelry, and clothes strewn about, not in a messy way, but in a way that everything had a place. You had clearly worked hard to make this home and he had to admit, it was really cozy.
As his gaze shifted back to you, he noticed you struggling to reach the box of pancake mix on the top shelf. He stood and made his way to you, his front pressing against your back as he reached for it. A soft gasp escaped you as he brought the box down in front of you.
“Thank you.” You whispered.
“Yeah.” Aaron nodded in return. “How can I help?”
“Oh um, do you want to cook the eggs?” You turned to meet his gaze.
“Absolutely.”
The two of you were in sync, working around one another while preparing breakfast. You had been making casual chit chat with one another and it had felt so natural to be here with him, no awkwardness in this moment. The two of you plated everything up and moved to your small dining table.
“You know, I didn’t mean anything by my comment earlier. About one-night stands. There’s nothing wrong with them, it’s just I don’t typically participate in them. I just, I don’t want you to think I was judging you because truly I wasn’t.” Aaron rambled.
“Aaron, it’s okay! Honest. I don’t typically go home with strangers either. Last night I was out with friends, I saw you and then they all suggested I take a chance and approach you. And well, here we are.” You let out a quiet laugh.
“I’m glad I’m here.” Aaron smiled. “I appreciate that you’ve been so understanding and patient with me this morning.”
Aaron and you ate while exchanging information about yourselves. He was an incredible listener and you felt so comfortable talking with him. You had to remind yourself that this might not go any further than today, so you needed to enjoy it while it lasted.
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You had decided that Aaron’s laugh was your new favorite sound, and it pains you to know that sound are the first memories to fade, because his laugh was sweet like honey, and you so wished to savor it. You’d have to settle for the wrinkles on the outer edges of his eyes as they squeezed shut, how his head would fall back just a bit, and how the corners of his lips would tilt up ever so slightly as his laugh rang out – that would be enough to remember how wonderful he is.
Aaron’s stomach dropped thinking that perhaps his time with you was nearing its end. Your face had grown quite serious, and he wondered if you were ready for him to leave you in peace. He had been having so much fun, more than he’d care to admit. He figured he could buy himself a little more time if he offered to help with the dishes…then he would leave. He’d have to hold on to the warmth and comfort your presence brought to him, savor it for as long as he could.
“Let me help you clean up!” Aaron said standing and taking your plates over to the sink.
“Oh, thank you! You don’t have to do that, but I appreciate it.” You smile at him.
“It’s the least I can do.” He returned your smile.
The two of you had silently agreed; Aaron would wash, and you would dry. This went on in silence for a few minutes, your fingers brushing every time Aaron passed you something…each one sending a shock throughout your nervous system.
Aaron moved to pass you a handful of silverware, his hand enveloping yours as he hands them over. You allow your gaze to meet his and felt all resolve slip away.
“Fuck it.” You said dropping the silverware in the sink, crashing your lips to his in a passionate kiss.
Aaron’s hands wrapped around your middle as he met your pace, you were relieved by his physical response to you. One of his hands was wrapped securely around your middle and the other found its way up to the back of your head, tangling itself in your hair. He gave a gentle tug, causing you to gasp, allowing his tongue access to your mouth.
The kiss continued on for a few moments before you pulled back for air. Aaron let his hands slide down your body stopping only to give your ass a gentle squeeze before landing on the backs of your thighs, he gives you a knowing look before lifting you. You wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, allowing your hands to explore the hair at the nape of his neck and your lips to travel the expanse of his jaw.
He brings you back to your room, gently setting you on the bed before pulling your shirt over your head. You move to lay back, completely bare before him. He allows himself to admire your form.
“You’re perfect.” It comes out as a whisper, like a secret meant only for you.
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He slides his boxers down his legs and makes his way up the mattress to you, scattering sweet kisses across your skin along the way. You reach for his face, bringing him up to meet your lips once more, losing yourself in him. His hands are caressing your breasts, cheeks, hips, thighs…they’re everywhere all at once, his touch leaving your breathless. Aaron begins to trail his kisses downward your jaw, your neck, your collarbones, breasts, stomach, hips, moving in to where you wanted him most.
His lips ghosted over your clit pressing so lightly. It sent a shock through your system, your body arching into his. He slid his arms under and around your thighs, holding them in place as he dove in, licking a stripe over your glistening slit before finding purchase on your clit he switched between licking and sucking, causing you to whimper in pleasure.  Aaron releases one of your legs, bringing his fingers to your entrance, carefully slipping two in, curling them upwards at just the right moment.
You couldn’t help but cry out his name, if he was good last night, then he was a professional today – you were sure that you’d never experience anything this good ever again (not if it wasn’t with him). Aaron picked up his speed at your cry, which he’s decided is the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. You can feel your orgasm fast approaching, so much so that you don’t even have time to warn Aaron. Though he’s not exactly surprised when your release gushes over his fingers, having felt your walls tighten around his fingers, legs shaking, fingers tugging his hair and your back arching up off the bed.
He removes his fingers from your wet heat with care and licks one last stripe over your slit before coming face to face with you. You’re a mess, skin glistening with sweat, hair simultaneously stuck to your forehead and in tangles at your neck from you writhing. Aaron sweeps the hair off of your forehead and behind your ear, he captures your lips in a sweet kiss. You utilize this moment to guide him by his shoulders to lay on his back.
You wedge yourself between his legs as you let your tongue drag over his tip, catching the bead of precum that’s gathered there. Aaron hisses at the brief pleasure – sensitive and so ready for you. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock, the corners of your mouth stretching to accommodate his size. You lower your head down until your nose bushes the patch of hair at the base, holding still there momentarily. You let your hand softly grip his balls, sure to tend to them as you find a rhythm, moving your head up and down Aaron’s thick cock.
He was struggling to compose himself; grunts, groans, hisses, whispers of your name all escaping his lips as you took him down your throat. He needed you to pull away soon, or this would all end way before he wanted it to. With that being said, he tapped your shoulder gently to get your attention and motioned for you to come closer to him. He sat up to lean against your headboard and you found your way into his lap.
“As amazing as that was, I would really like to make up for last night.” Aaron said before leaning in to kiss you again.
“Aaron last night was amazing! But I’m not going to say no to you fucking me…” You said, blush creeping up your neck.
“Is that so?” He challenged.
“Yes.” You replied, lifting yourself to align his cock with your entrance before slowly sinking down.
The stretch was delicious as he was fully sated inside you. You started to move your hips as Aaron’s hands met your hips, helping to catch on to the rhythm. This position was so intimate, your chests pressed to one another, wrapped in each other’s arms, eyes holding contact, connected as one, moving in sync.
Last night had been sloppy. Getting tangled in clothing, drunken giggles, quick, messy, sex. This though, this couldn’t have been further from that. Slow, methodical movements, with a veil of vulnerability as you observed one another’s every expression, keen on making this last…making this a wonderful memory to be held onto for always.
It had started to become overwhelming to you, all of your senses were being consumed by Aaron and with such intense pleasure filling your soul, you couldn’t help the tears that slipped from your eyes. Seeing a flash of panic in Aaron’s face had you leaning in to steal a kiss, expressing to him that you were okay, hell, more than okay.
Your rhythm began to faulter as the two of you neared climax. Aaron could tell you needed a little push before you could meet him in extasy, so he slid his hand between you, letting his fingers brush over your sensitive bud. It was all you had needed before the wave crashed over you and of course the grip you’d had on Aaron allowed for his own release, filling you with his warmth.
You sat there for a moment before Aaron shifted the two of you further down the bed, so you were laid on top of him, still filled with Aaron’s cock. Neither of you moved, save for Aaron’s hand that was tracing patterns on your skin, for what felt like an eternity.
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“We should get cleaned up.” He whispered, his lips pressing to your hairline.
“Do we have to?” You asked, fully knowing the answer.
You were careful in removing yourself from Aaron’s embrace, not wanting to hurt him or make even more of a mess in your bed. You motioned for him to follow you into the bathroom, and you started up the shower.
“We can rinse off, get dressed, then I can walk you out…” You suggested trying to hide your disappointment.
“Okay.” Aaron agreed.
The shower hadn’t been sexual, just the two of you washing one another’s body and letting the hot water soothe your muscles. Once you were clean, Aaron exited the shower to grab your towel, quickly wrapping it around you as you stepped out. Aaron used the other hanging towel to dry himself off quickly, both of you heading back to the bedroom.
You each dressed yourselves, not daring to make eye contact, both afraid to say goodbye. Neither wanting this to end, this little bubble you’ve found yourselves in far too warm and cozy to pop…not yet. Not ever. You didn’t want this to be all the time you had with Aaron. You couldn’t let the opportunity to see him again pass you by…take the leap.
“Aaron, would you um, maybe want to do this again?” You asked, hopeful.
“Like I said before, I never do this kind of thing.” He shook his head.
You felt totally embarrassed, having must’ve misread the whole interaction. But there is no way, right? After all that, he’s going to pretend like there’s no spark at all. You could feel the heat taking over your face, anger and mortification alike taking hold of your body. But then he continued…
“One-night stands aren’t exactly my thing. I’m more of a formal date kind of guy so, could we exchange phone numbers, and then perhaps I can take you to dinner some time?”
Relief flooded your entire being so quickly, the tension falling from your shoulders. The heat slowly fading away from your face.
“I would really love that.”
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demonwoman · 10 months
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shared controllers - chapter 1 [a jjk streamer au]
plot summary: gojo satoru is one of the most famous faceless gaming streamers in the industry. under the pseudonym 6 eyes, he constantly dominates ranking charts and enjoys a life of relative ease and comfort. you are an up and coming streamer who decides to raid his stream one day - but to her demise, he brushes her off. or so she thought…
cw: suggestive content. smut in later chapters (minors DNI). female reader intended (but no descriptions of body type, hair, etc.)
wc: 3.6k // pairing: streamer!gojo x streamer!reader
a/n: this is a rewrite of my first ever fanfic that i posted in january 2023. i’m working on rewriting and reposting them in a queue, probably in batches of 3 chapters at a time. no y/n use (i put ___ to denote reader). some usernames have spaces between the @, i did that to prevent actual ppl with that username from being tagged lol
stream lingo: a stream deck is a piece of hardware that allows you to transition between stream presets and apps on your computer. raiding someone means taking your viewership and dropping them on another person who is currently streaming, signaling you’re done for the night. mmo is short for massive multiplayer online game. moba is short for multiplayer online battle arena. vod is short for video on demand, which is when someone’s stream is saved for later viewing
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Enter Player 1 … loading … @pastelvoid // ___
“That’s all it took?!” 
You cursed at your screen before sighing and setting the controller down. After several hours, you had been struggling to grind levels in the underwater mines of your favorite farming sim Reef Village, and you managed to hit the last miniboss and complete a checkpoint. You smoothed your hair over and reached back to grab your controller and enter the save screen. 
“Ahhh, finally!!! I can end my stream now knowing I’m in a good place to come back to.” You smiled, made eye contact with your webcam and waved. “Well, thank you so much for staying with me! I hope you had a fun time watching me die over and over again because of my god tier skills.” You rolled your eyes slightly - your online brand of humor leaned on the self aware side, which your viewers appreciated. 
“Let’s find someone to raid, shall we?” You hit a button on your stream deck, transitioning to the “end of stream” screen and scrolled through the available list of followed users. Your eyes scanned through the icons, some grayed out due to inactivity, and some saturated to show their online status, and your breath got stuck in your throat. 
Well…I guess I could try.
You glanced at your viewer count, this was one of your more successful streams with 57 active viewers. And you knew his minimum raid viewer count was 50, so you barely squeaked by with enough to be able to raid his stream. But was it worth it though? 
“What do you think guys, should I raid @6eyesdomain? He’s active right now.” You started to swivel nervously in your office chair. “M-maybe…I don’t know.” You mumbled and scrolled through your chat.
Chat – 
@tenderhammer - do it girl!!! He’ll totally see you and say something!! 
@2brothers1sisterdoll  - yea i second that, this is your chance >:3
@strongestkiller6002 - ngl, he might blow you off
That last comment had you sit up a bit straighter. “Yeah, ‘strongest killer’ he could do that. But it doesn’t hurt to try right?” You sucked in a breath. “Well, what the hell. Let’s do it!” You typed in your chat your standard raid message you always left for your viewers to announce their arrival.
“Howdy folks! Your stream has been invaded by the void, and she’s staring back at you!” 
Your message was modeled after your gamer tag, @pastelvoid. It was a slightly cringy username you came up with in high school, but you grew to love your little name and designed your entire streaming and gaming brand around it. 
“Now you can copy paste that and spam his chat, but don’t go overboard please! I don’t want to make Mr. 6 Eyes or any of his mods mad. Let me add some of my emotes too.” You copied in a few of your favorite emotes to make the message less threatening. “I’ll see you on Friday now, 6pm sharp!! Bye y’all!” You waved more vigorously at your screen for a few seconds, and then hit the end stream button and the raid button consecutively. 
Phew…you finally took off your headphones and relaxed back in your chair. You needed a bathroom break from sitting in the same place for several hours, so you got up, took your leave and grabbed your phone on the way to your bathroom. But before you did, you tuned into @6eyesdomain’s channel just as your raid notification hit his stream. 
User @6eyesdomain, known colloquially as 6 Eyes, was considered a god of gamers in human form, and one of your favorite streamers. He was and is one of the strongest competitive gamers in the nation; famous for his former affiliation to Team Jujutsu, one of the highest ranked esports teams internationally. As one of its star players, he always placed first in every solo match of Gogol Arenas, League of Tartarus - every mainstream MMO or MOBA game you could think of, he could secure a top ranked spot. But he largely remained a solo streamer, never opting to play cooperatively with his fellow Jujutsu members. He retired after two years on the team, and remained a fully independent entity. The biggest reason for his solo game style was simple: he never plays with his camera on, so no one publicly knows what he looks like. He never attended public events either, the most he would do is show up as a tv screen with a big picture of his avatar displayed on the screen while he talked. His only indicator of a “physical appearance” was that he always played with a shittily-drawn chibi avatar of a man with white hair and black sunglasses. There were many speculations as to why he never revealed his face on stream, but no theories were ever substantial enough. 
6 Eyes wouldn’t know how much he meant to you. It was the nature of parasocial relationships, and you understood that. Especially after you worked so hard to develop your career as a streamer, it took you 2 years to surpass 10 average viewers! But nonetheless, you turned up the volume on your phone and heard on full blast:
“Oh, @pastelvoid is raiding me? Lol ok.” A short pause. “Thanks I guess.” Another short pause. “OH SHIT! Thank you so much for the $150 dono, @himebluehair!!!” And he continued on with his game. 
You sat on the toilet, feeling your heart sink. Damn, that’s all I get? I mean yeah, I didn’t have like 500 or 1000 viewers, I get that. But he could’ve at least been more enthusiastic. Maybe he didn’t like my raid message. Maybe my viewers spammed too much. Strongest killer was right. Ugh –
You weren’t really in the mood to watch the rest of 6 Eyes’ stream anyway - while you understood he didn’t hurt you directly, the way he brushed off your viewers still kinda hurt. 
Your night was pretty much over anyway, so you began your normal nighttime routine, watched a few episodes of your favorite comfort anime and went to sleep. What you didn’t know however, is what was happening on the other side of that screen at the same time. 
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Enter Player 2 … loading … @6eyesdomain // Gojo Satoru
There are two types of high-ranked players in the gaming industry. Humans who play with gods, and gods who play with humans. Gojo Satoru is the latter. He grew up with a cushy lifestyle, constantly being attended to, never having to worry about a thing. But he didn’t care for a life of being catered to. He wanted to carve out a life where he could earn respect by toying with an unconventional creative outlet. Hence, video games. Male gamers are traditionally seen as scrubby edgelords, fishing greasy chips out of a bag, yelling slurs and living in their mom’s basement with no hope of achieving a normal healthy life. 
Not Gojo. 
Gojo could have it all, if he wanted. He understood that intrinsically, but he held back. He never showed his face, not for fear of appearances, or any of the common fan theories. He just wanted to distance himself from the weight his name carried in the real world. He loved the attention, and he loved toying with his viewers and engaging in a fair amount of vocal fan service. He knew the ethics were messy at best, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to remain the best, and he didn’t have to work very hard to maintain that #1 status across all the games he touched. 
When the initial message popped up in his chat “user @pastelvoid has raided your stream with 57 viewers!” He brushed it off. But only for a split second. On a second monitor, he right clicked on your username, opened your channel and profile in a new tab where his stream couldn’t see and set it aside for later. He thought the message was silly - a void? Staring back at me? He huffed as he continued to steadily gun down a line of infected military officers in the story-driven apocalypse game he was playing. 
I’ll check their profile later. After stream. 
He continued to spray pixel bullets on screen, fingers calmly and quickly spamming buttons left and right to maximize the hit combos. After another hour of streaming, he ended the way he usually did - a brief “Thanks for joining everyone. I’ll see you around, six times over. Bye!” And shut down his stream. Gojo pushed his chair out, stretched his legs and arms, and grabbed the tab from his second monitor with your profile and channel and dragged it into his primary monitor. He went through your most recent VOD and scrolled up until the point where you were about to raid his stream. 
Oh. Yikes. 
He realized his aloof nature did not pay off this time. He saw the moments where you were nervous on camera, your hands fiddling with your hoodie straps when you asked your chat whether it was a good idea or not. Every micro-expression you made on camera, down to the fidgeting, the anxious lip-chewing, he picked up on all of that. A slight pang hit his chest, and Gojo realized he made a severe error. He went through his chat settings, and found your chat history. 
@pastelvoid stats loading … 
Four year follower. 10 month tier-1 subscriber. 99+ messages. 
He read through almost every message you had ever sent in his chat. Most were supportive, some were really funny - he actually cackled at some of your jokes, they made him remember times that brought him genuine joy. A few were cringy, but hey, every viewer has some dumb moments. Gojo cracked a small smile at his screen, before reality set in. 
I must’ve ruined her night. Fuck. He sucked a breath in between his teeth, before running a hand through his bright white hair in frustration. Gojo averaged anywhere between 2500-7000 viewers per stream, so while he was used to the blinding speed of his chat (even with slow mode enabled), he didn’t have time to emotionally dedicate himself to every single message. When he was a smaller streamer, pre-Jujutsu team fame, he used to be very enthusiastic about every donation, every raid, and every new subscriber. Now, because viewers and donations were in abundance, he didn’t care to celebrate every milestone. 
Seeing your past messages made him nostalgic for a simpler time. Gojo ended up scrubbing through a few of your recent stream VODs. While your streams were not centered on competitive play like his, you were clearly engaged with your few dozen viewers and you seemed to enjoy yourself with the games you chose. Your streams were typically centered on farming life and dating sim games, taking on a more “cozy gamer” vibe with your pastel purple and white setup in your room. Gojo ended up watching through several more of your uploaded clips and highlights from previous streams, and when he glanced at his clock again, the time read 2:37am. 
“Holy shit! Time flew by, huh?” He mumbled to himself, as he went to click out of your profile. But as his mouse hovered over the X button on the window, he rubbed his eyes and his hand snapped back on his mouse. He wanted to watch more, but he had to sleep. He ended up minimizing the window, but not before he checked your upcoming stream schedule. 
Friday, 6pm. Got it. 
Gojo set a reminder on his phone, and canceled his stream that day so he could watch. He pulled off his t-shirt and jumped right into his messy, unmade bed and curled up in the covers. 
She seems nice. Wonder if she’s like that in real life or just online. His eyes slowly fell, and before he realized, he was totally unconscious. 
As Friday rolled around, you came back from your work shift at 5pm, dropping your bags at the door of your apartment.
When you headed to your room, you dropped everything in your hands, and went through your initial setup before going back into the kitchen. You didn’t have enough time to cook, so you microwaved and scarfed down a container of leftovers from the other day, and headed back into your room. After peeling off your work uniform and bra, you changed into some comfier shorts and a tank top. You peered at your chest poking through the thin top, and realized you were gonna be on camera in less than 30 minutes. 
“Yeah, I should probably throw a hoodie over this.” You dug through your closet, found an old hoodie and without looking at it, you threw it on. After retouching some of your makeup from earlier in the day, you turned on your ring lights, opened up your broadcasting software, and hit the “begin stream” button. It was customary for you to begin your stream off camera with an animated welcome screen, so that gave you a couple minutes to finish up some last minute preparations and for your viewers to pour in. 
A few minutes after you had everything set up, you changed the scene on your stream deck, and your normal layout appeared online. “Howdy folks, Pastel Void here. If you’re new, you can call me by my full username, or Miss Void or PV. I don’t mind either!” You continued on with your regular welcome message, you had no need for rehearsals - introducing yourself was an effortless task for you. “I see some regular viewers, hello ‘tender hammer’! Hi ‘strongest killer’!” You stopped to greet a few of your regulars before continuing. “I apologize for my appearance today, I just wanted to be comfy honestly. Had a long week of work and yesterday really tired me out.” You began to create a poll in your stream for your viewers to choose your upcoming game. 
“Let’s see, more Reef Village or shall we try this new game I got? A new dating sim by Todo Smiles was published recently and I finally got around to purchasing it!” You waited for the responses to collect in. “Ok…it’s looking like we’re going with the new game! Let’s gooooo!” You said as you loaded up your console and made sure the capture card was working. “It’s called “The Curse of Infinity, and it’s a harem game! You know those are my favorite!” You giggled to yourself, adjusting the microphone so it was closer to you. As you checked your chat you saw a message float through that got your attention.
@yojogurt: nice hoodie! A sixeyesdomain classic I see
You glanced at your chat and saw Yojo’s message and your heart stuttered. That’s when you glanced down and saw you were wearing an old merch hoodie of Mr. 6 Eyes himself. It was a black hoodie with an embroidered panel in the middle, with a really fancy vintage-style anime drawing of his avatar. You laughed uproariously, and it was at this point that Gojo tuned into your stream. He settled into his luxury gaming chair and put you on fullscreen, right as you in the middle of your laugh. 
“I didn’t realize, oops! Well whatever, pssh. That bitch doesn’t care about me, I raided 6 Eye’s stream the other night and he didn’t really acknowledge me at all.” You replied nonchalantly as you pulled up the loading screen for your dating sim. 
Gojo’s eyes widened and somewhere, he felt a distant stab in his chest, followed by a flash of anger. “Wow, right back at ya bitch.” He grumbled, ready to exit your stream. He was glad he didn’t follow you yet, he almost clicked out but then you continued. 
“Well…that’s not totally true. He did read my raid message, but he only gave me like 2 seconds before someone gave him a big donation. So obviously he’s gonna prioritize that over me.” You felt the tendrils of insecurity begin to creep in, but you did your best to brush it off and continue. “I shouldn’t have been so optimistic, you know? He’s so famous he doesn’t really have time to be excited over a 50-something viewer raid. He probably gets hundreds more viewers from his former Jujutsu partners if they raid.” You sighed. “But it is what it is. I don’t hate him for it, but I have to admit, it stung.” As you were talking, you began a new save file, inputting your gamer tag and customizing your character to look like you. 
On Gojo’s side of the screen, he shrunk away and didn’t click out after all. “She has a point.” He mumbled to himself. She’s actually being pretty mature about it, she could’ve easily held it over me and unsubscribed. At this point, he switched over to his secret alt account, one that not even his former Jujutsu members knew about, and continued watching. Plus she’s cute in my merch.
“Well anyway, let’s see what our protagonist has to choose from.” You pulled your hood up and began your gameplay, narrating in your silly voices you used to entertain your viewers. In a quieter voice, you mumbled “To be honest, I only pulled on the hoodie because I didn’t want to wear a bra haha.”
Now that made Gojo’s heart leap. Oh, so you talked like that on stream? How bold. His lips curled into a smirk, and he pulled his chair into his desk so he could close the distance between himself and the monitor. 
“Let’s see what we’re working with, ok?” You sped through the lore so you could get to the cast of male characters who could be your potential love interest in-game. Since the game was fantasy themed, all the characters had elaborate outfits and were beautifully rendered. “So we have this guy, he looks like your typical samurai warlord. Mysterious, long black hair in a bun, a classic.” You scrolled through each character’s stat sheet to get a sense of who you wanted to pursue. “A dark gnome warlock, ooo tempting. And he has a purple and white color scheme, love that.” You continued on. “Umm, who else is calling me–?” You stopped at the last character in the lineup. 
The character had stark white long hair, and deep azure eyes that sparkled when you hovered over his artwork. He was wearing a loose, navy and gold-accented tunic with his chest half out, covered in intricate black tattoos and you almost drooled over his immaculately drawn pecs. “Hmmm…this one seems like a man slut. But in a good way. What’s his bio?” You hover again. “His character info says he’s a high elf banished from his tribe. Sounds fun! What else? He’s intensely charismatic publicly, but has difficulty opening up to people privately…yeah. Let’s pursue him!” You glance at your hoodie again, realizing the irony. You take this opportunity to stare directly at your camera. 
“Well, if I can’t get Mr. 6 Eyes in real life, I’ll just have to settle for this guy!” You laughed again, and began grinding away in your game. 
At this point, Gojo is metaphorically (or perhaps literally) shaking in his boots. He knows you don’t know what he looks like. But the character you picked, it was too uncanny. And your brazen nature…well, he wasn’t thinking clearly anymore. He grabbed his computer mouse and violently clicked the follow button with his alternate account. 
On your screen, your follower notification popped up - 
@hallowedpurpleGS followed you!
“Oh, hi hallowed purple GS! Thanks for following.” You smiled and continued on with your game. “Hope you enjoy my stream, I just found this fun dating sim and will be playing it for the rest of today.” You coughed slightly, briefly interrupting the flow of your speaking. “You know how it is in anime and dating sims, it’s always the white-haired guys who get the most bitches. And I’m no exception.” You cackled out loud, sounding more like a gremlin than anything. 
Gojo could feel a second heartbeat beginning to develop in his jeans. His breathing became shallower and he dug around on his desk for a water bottle, grasping it and chugging the rest of its contents. As soon as he finished it, he gulped a couple deep breaths of air and tried to clear his head. 
“You’re really testing me, huh? Fine. Two can play at that game.” He fished around for his wallet, and scrolled on your profile finding the donate button for your stream. On your side, you heard an unfamiliar notification sound and your eyes bulged out of your head. 
@hallowedpurpleGS donated $100! 
Message: You’re right, white-haired guys do get the most bitches. Wanna prove it? 
Your competitive streak kicked in. “Hell yeah I do. Thank you hallowed purple for the donation, that was incredibly generous. For that amount of money, you could get me to do some crazy things haha.” You smirked and crossed your legs and the camera angle caught a bit of that bare skin. Gojo gulped again, and he felt his mouth begin to salivate. 
Oh…crazy things huh? We’ll have to see about that. 
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dividers by @cafekitsune, @saradika and @benkeibear
taglist: @public-safety-network @dearestgojo @drunkenlion @kazushawty
send me an ask or reply if you want to be added to the taglist!
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luxesiren · 8 months
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⸻ 𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀 :: connie springer x model!reader
synopsis :: falling in love with one of your models was probably insane or unethical but he didn’t care
cw :: 501 word count, modern au, black fem!reader, established secret relationship, kissing, fluff, work relationship, friends to lovers trope
a/n :: this is inspired by @cybercandy1 ‘s thought on artistic connie, i haven’t really written for connie but i thought this idea was so cute😭 based off this post
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𝑵𝑶𝑾 𝑷𝑳𝑨𝒀𝑰𝑵𝑮 :: fashion killa — a$ap rocky
you never expected to fall in love with your designer but it was hard not to fall in love with the unserious goofball that was connie springer. you were only supposed to model his newest collection but the months working with him had developed into something more and you didn’t regret it. 
it was hard keeping the relationship out of the media but it was nice to have something to yourself, he was the sweetest to you and you loved him dearly. “connie! baby, have you seen my bag?” 
connie was upstairs in his loft designing a new pair of jeans, he looked over and found your bag sitting next to him. “yeah, ma! it’s up here, i’ll bring it down.” he got up and walked downstairs towards your shared room and he found in front of the mirror admiring your outfit. 
he placed your bag on the bed and walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and planting a kiss on your neck. you instantly smiled at the gesture and rested your hands on top of his, “hi baby.” 
“hey mamas, you wearing the new jeans? they look good on you.” he said as you turned around to face him, his hands moving to rest on your ass, you rolled your eyes playfully at him. 
“you just like the way my ass looks in these jeans.” you giggled, kissing his cheek — your nails scratching at his scalp, the designs on his hair bright and colorful matching the pink dye. 
“mm you’re right.” he said with a smirk, kissing you again. he never expected to fall in love with someone like you but he wouldn’t change that for the world. he loved everything about you, your always changing attitude, how boujee you were and he would cater to every need you had. you appreciated everything he had to offer. “where you gotta go today? hm? you should be spending the day with me.” 
“con.. you know i’m going to lunch with my girls.” you said, trying to pull away from him but his grip on you too strong, not that you wanted to leave anyways. 
“c’mon ma, spend the day with me.” he reasoned, his eyes practically pleading.
“uh nuh, don’t you have something to finish?” your eyebrow raised and your arms crossed. he snorted and looked at you, laughing slightly. 
“baby, I can finish that tomorrow. c’mon spend the day with me. come on, please?” there it was, the thing that would always get you, you relented and smiled and he knew he had you right where he wanted you. 
“fine.” you responded, his answering smile was enough to make you stay with him for the next week. “you better make it worth my while too.” 
“don’t i always, ma?” his slight cockiness is always attractive, he picked you up and carries you to the bed, laying you down and kissing you softly. “i’ll always make it worth your while.” 
you were so lovesick over connie fucking springer.
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© 𝐥𝐮𝐱𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧 | all rights reserved to me, please don’t repost, steal, or copy to any other websites
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demiguisemoon · 2 years
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private lessons - billy hargrove
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gif by @id4ni3​
© demiguisemoon 2022, do not repost, modify or translate!
synopsis: Taking up Billy’s offer to teach you different swimming styles was dangerous for a good girl like you. Yet you didn’t even hesitate to stay with him at the pool after closing hour.
a/n: wow, this one was so much fun to write and idk what got into me at times. pure filth, the build up is a bit longer but bear with me, it’ll be worth it. i think lol.
warnings: reader is a lifeguard, shameless flirting, teasing, SMUT, semi-public sex, handjob, ejaculating in a public pool & on someone’s back, face sitting, overstimulation, bj, no protection, p in v
wc: 5.8k
The sun shone mercilessly down on you as you arrived at the pool for your shift. It was one of the hottest days of the summer in Hawkins today and you were more than ready for someone to nearly drown only so you would have a chance to dive right into the water.
Instead, you got to share your shift with none other than Billy Hargrove today, who already sat on the lifeguard chair, looking perfect as ever in his short red swimming shorts and… no shirt.
Fuck.
“There she is!” He exclaimed when he saw you enter the pool area dressed in only your bathing suit, your hair up in a ponytail. “My favorite coworker in the entire world.”
He climbed down the tall chair and walked towards you with the usual smirk on his face, chewing on his gum with an open mouth as he took off his sunglasses, giving you a more than obvious once over.
Billy never wasted a single opportunity to check you out. He didn’t even bother to hide it, he loved the way it made you all flustered and shy.
You were known to be Hawkins’ little miss perfect, a sweet girl that couldn’t even hurt a fly. And everyone in Hawkins also knew that Billy was the exact opposite. Maybe that’s why the pool’s manager loved to have you two work together on such busy days like these.
Billy came to a halt in front of you, visibly checking you out.
“And just when I thought my day couldn’t get any better, you come walking in,” he shamelessly flirted, but still managing to put a smile on your face.
You cursed yourself for it, for the way he could make you all nervous and flustered so easily.
“You can take the seat, I’ll go check the water pumps for you,” he explained, then leaned forward, his eyes darting down to your tits for a split second. Whether he tried to be inconspicuous about it or not, you didn’t know. But you certainly noticed it every single time.
That boy couldn’t and wouldn’t stop looking at them.
“Wouldn’t wanna let you go down to the dark basement on your own,” he added, then winked at you before he put his sunglasses back on his nose, almost ready to go when he stopped one more time.
“Tststs, forgot your whistle again,” he noted, shaking his head. “Little miss perfect is slacking, I see.” He chuckled, still playing with the gum in his mouth as he removed his own whistle to pull it over your head.
His hands wandered down the band to the metal object, grazing the hills of your chest as he played with it for a few more seconds. The feeling of his fingertips brushing against your breasts made your breath hitch in your throat, your mind becoming hazy for a while until you forcefully pulled yourself out of the fantasy inside your head, and back to reality.
“Thanks,” you said nervously, quickly walking past him before he could do even worse, and more dangerous things to you.
What you didn’t know was that he turned around once you walked away from him, his eyes glued to your ass, hanging out of your bathing suit just enough. You felt his eyes on you, no doubt, but you were too afraid to turn around and see for yourself.
Too afraid of the consequences of both your and his actions.
The first hour of your shift was fairly uneventful. You remained up on the lifeguard chair while Billy walked around the pool once he got back from checking the pumps, yelling at kids jumping into the water from the edge every now and then. He didn’t even need his whistle, using his fingers instead to make a shrill sound that directed everyone’s attention at him in no time.
It shouldn’t have been so attractive to you. But it was.
Anything Billy Hargrove did, was.
Countless of girls and women, older than him or not, flirted with him, shooting their shot regardless of the outcome, and he loved it. You, on the other hand, didn’t.
But you’d never admit that to yourself. You weren’t jealous of other females receiving his undivided attention, weren’t jealous whenever you saw the way he was checking out other girls’ bodies, and certainly weren’t jealous when you overheard him complimenting them.
You tore your gaze away from him and his perfect physique, trying to concentrate on your job as  lifeguard of Hawkins’ Community Pool. Attempting to distract yourself, you made your way down the tall chair to collect some pool noodles scattered on the ground and took them back to the equipment storage room.
You forced yourself not to look at Billy when you walked past him and some woman in her early forties, trying to focus on the general hustle and bustle of the pool when you didn’t wanna hear another pathetic attempt of hers at making an impression on him.
Billy, however, didn’t even listen to the woman as his gaze followed your delicious frame, watching you walk towards the storage room.
You put all noodles in the bucket as your back faced the door. You didn’t even notice him walking up to you until you heard the door snap shut. Almost getting a heart attack, you quickly turned around, half relieved but half on edge to see Billy standing right in front of you.
“Billy, Gosh, you gave me a fucking heart attack,” you chuckled, trying to shake off the tingling feeling that being alone with him in such a small space sent all the way through your body right to your stomach.
“Sorry, doll. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, that stupid smirk never leaving his face. “I was wondering if you could take my class on Friday. I have… places to be,” he said the last part with a raised eyebrow, his smirk widening to a mischievous grin.
God, Billy Hargrove was so full of himself. Yet you couldn’t resists his charm, no matter how hard you tried.
“What class?” You asked, totally ignoring the part where he basically told you he’s got a pussy appointment that’s obviously more important than his job, yet him calling you ‘doll’ sent tingles down your spine.
As if you were the only one he used that name for.
“Well, you know. Teaching the kids all those swimming styles. Butterfly, backstroke, sidestroke, crawl… and breaststroke.” His eyes once again wandered down to your chest when he named the last stroke.
Heat immediately shot up your torso, and all the way to your cheeks, as you struggled to hold his intense gaze. Even though the storage room was the coolest place in the pool, it felt like a sauna to you right now with him looking at you like that.
“I umm…,” you hesitated, fidgeting with your fingers as you looked around the room, feeling embarrassed for what you were about to admit. “I actually don’t know all of these. I umm… I only know breaststroke… And maybe a little bit of crawl.”
His grin only widened at your confession, and he cheekily licked his lips as he chuckled. “A lifeguard that only knows breaststroke? And a little bit of crawl? How on earth did you even get that job, doll?”
His comment challenged you for some reason, and you felt a small boost of confidence as you realized how easy it had been for you to get hired when he probably had to show off all his skills to be even considered a suitable candidate.
“Well, I guess they just knew I was the right one for this job. Besides, I don’t teach lessons here anyways. I only do lifeguarding.”
“You could certainly use some lessons for yourself, though,” he laughed, walking closer to you in long, slow strides. He kept chewing his gum in a provocative manner, casually adjusting his swim shorts as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband. Your eyes immediately fell down to his perfectly toned abs, and the V-shaped muscles trailing down into his pants.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, but only after you swallowed the lump in your throat. Billy Hargrove was dangerous, intimidating even. You knew exactly what he meant, and you told yourself you wouldn’t fall for that cheap trick of his.
“Well, you know. I can teach you. After closing.” His fingers once again played with the whistle hanging in front of your chest, his eyes following his hands down your body to your chest, then back up to your face.
“Give you some private lessons… If you don’t got other plans tonight, of course.”
“Tonight?” You repeated, your nerves fluttering.
“Sure, why not? It’s always good for a lifeguard to know their strokes. And since we’re gonna close together anyways… What’s wrong with having the pool to ourselves for a little longer?” What was wrong with that? Your mind could name countless reasons, the most important one being that Billy Hargrove had anything in mind but actually teaching you swimming styles.
However, your body had other plans.
So you said yes before you even had the chance to think about the consequences of your answer. He smirked with a pleased look on his face, and left the equipment room, leaving you a wreck consisting of nothing else than jumpy nerves and fast-moving butterflies.
The hustle and bustle of the pool slowly calmed down during the last hour, giving Billy way too much time to flirt with literally any female walking around the perimeter. You hated every single one of them for getting all the attention that should’ve been meant for you.
But you had to remind yourself that Billy Hargrove was nothing more than a player, and you deciding to play his game was gonna get you hurt sooner rather than later.
“Y/N,” he called for you, sitting on top of the tall lifeguard chair. “Come here for a sec!”
You stopped cleaning the few empty loungers and walked over to him, trying to ignore the bitchy comments from the group of heartbroken girls that were salty only because Billy gave you the attention they so desperately craved. Arrived at the bottom of the chair you looked up at him, waiting for him to either say something or get down.
Instead, he just sat there, manspreading, one hand hanging loosely over his crotch while the other played with the frame of his sunglasses as he simply observed you. You couldn’t see his eyes but you saw the minimal movement of his head, telling you he was once again checking you out from head to toe.
“Come on, Billy, what is it? I gotta get back to work,” you whined. “Seems like you’re not interested in helping me anyways.”
“Well, someone’s gotta watch over the kids, doll,” he remarked, sending a challenging smile down to you. But you just rolled your eyes at him.
“The kids? Sure, Billy,” you turned around and looked at the pool, not finding a single child in the water. “So what now? Either you say what you want or you’re gonna come down here and help me.”
“I want you to come up here for a sec,” he said, a demanding tone in the way he spoke to you.
“Are you insane? Billy that thing isn’t made for two people, what the fuck.” “I won’t let you fall, doll. Promise.”
You waited for a few moments longer, looking around the area and seeing more and more people leave the pool. Even the group of heartbroken chicks had left by now. And even though you found Billy’s idea extremely unprofessional, you just couldn’t resist his captivating charm, finding yourself on the chair’s ladder before you could even realize that something like this could get the both of you fired.
You swore you could feel your heart in your throat as you climbed one step after the other until you ended up between Billy’s legs and had nothing to hold onto anymore.
“Told you I gotchu,” he chuckled smugly, grabbing your arms as he practically lifted you up and onto his lap, both hands wrapped around your waist as he held onto you with a tight grip.
You felt his toned abs against your back, and the thought of sitting right on his dick had you already clenching around air. His touch sent your mind into overdrive, every little sensation making it harder for you to concentrate.
Fucking hell. You were at work. You couldn’t be sitting on your coworker’s lap like that when there were still guests walking around the area.
“I’ve seen the way you look at every woman here. But don’t you realize they don’t even compare to you, doll?” His lips brushed against your ear with every single syllable he uttered, sending shivers down your spine, making the little hairs on your body stand up straight.
“I’m not looking at anyone, Billy. I don’t know what you’re on about,” you tried to brush it off, but the way he shifted in his seat underneath you, wrapping his arms even tighter around your middle whenever he’d move — you were already putty in his hands.
You had been for a long time.
“Whatever you say, doll,” he said, his hands wandering down your upper body until they rested comfortably on your lower stomach, his fingertips dangerously close to where your legs meet.
You needed to get out of his grip, literally and figuratively. Right now, before he could do even more to your already struggling determination to resist him.
“I need to finish cleaning, Billy,” you announced, moving to free yourself from his grip as you climbed off his lap and down the ladder again.
You didn’t turn around as you walked back to the loungers you’d been cleaning, trying to focus on your task at hand as the last few minutes of the pool being open passed, your shift slowly coming to an end, too. The last few guests left the area, leaving a silence behind that certainly didn’t help your turbulent state of mind.
The sun began to set as you finished your last tasks. Billy was nowhere to be seen. You assumed he went downstairs to check the water pumps one last time as you took the remaining pool noodles and other toys to the equipment room, your shift having officially ended now.
With that, you slowly began to realize that while your shift was over, you wouldn’t be leaving the pool anytime soon. Nervousness started to creep up inside of you at the thought of Billy’s offer.
Private lessons, sure. You were just curious to see how long he would actually be teaching you. Or if he would be teaching you anything at all…
You quickly walked over to the employee’s changing rooms, suddenly feeling the strong urge to take a thorough shower before you’d walk back out to the pool.
And Billy.
Feeling fresher but still not ready to face him, you eventually made your way back to the pool area where Billy was already sitting on one of the clean loungers, leaned back on his hands as he casually spread his legs, his ankles crossed.
“What took you so long, doll?” He commented when he saw you approach him, his signature smirk gracing his outrageously pretty face. “Not ready for your lessons? Scared perhaps?”
“Sure, Billy,” you remarked, faking annoyance, but it was difficult for you to stifle the smile slowly creeping up on your face. You knew he was right.
“So what is the great Billy Hargrove gonna teach me first?”
“I don’t know, I’ll do whatever the pretty princess wants to do first,” he replied, standing up and walking towards you as he held out his hand. “May I take you to the pool?”
You officially couldn’t hold back a stupid smile as you placed your hand in his, letting him lead you to the edge of the pool.
“I’d say ladies first, but a gentleman should test the waters before letting her in,” he announced. “You know, making sure there are no dangerous fish in the sea.”
You laughed at his cheesy comment, shaking your head as he dove head first into the water.
“I think you’re the only dangerous thing in there,” you chuckled as he came back to the surface.
“Oh yeah? Well then how naive of you to jump right into the arms of danger,” he challenged you, holding his arms wide open as he waited for you to join him.
You took one big step forward, letting yourself fall into the water and the arms of Billy who easily caught you before your head got underwater. You intuitively wrapped your arms around his neck, looking into his blue eyes, perfectly framed by those long and dark eyelashes.
His hands grabbed the back of your thighs as he hooked your legs around his middle to steady you, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh. The feeling of being so close to him, and having the pool all to yourself, without any distraction from other girls that felt like unfair competition, made you as nervous as you’ve never been before.
It was just you and Billy now, under the almost completely dark sky, the only light coming from the emergency lamp that stayed on overnight.
But the lack of competition also gave you another strange boost of confidence, knowing that Billy asked you to be here, offered it even — he wouldn’t have done that to any girl. Still, you knew he was a player, and felt like he deserved some teasing about it.
“So, do you ask every girl to come here?” You blurted out and broke the silence.
He didn’t answer at first and the pause immediately stole that confidence from you, scared you even. Made you feel silly for feeling special, even if just for a single moment.
He’s probably taken countless girls here already. What would be different about you?
“Lemme guess. You probably think I’ve already fucked countless girls on every single surface here, don’t you?”
He hit the nail right on the head.
“No,” you scoffed, acting offended as you avoided eye contact.
“See?” He said. “I mean, aren’t we here for some swimming lessons after all? What makes you think this is about sex anyways?”
He moved his hands behind his head, grabbing your wrists as he removed your hands from his shoulders to slowly let you down into the water. Your legs still hooked around his waist, he placed his hands on your hips to steady you as you were floating on your back, your middle pressed firmly against his.
“I guess we’re gonna start with backstroke then.”
Much to your surprise, Billy did actually teach you backstroke, and you were a quick learner, so you moved on to butterfly next.
His hands were on your sides as you practiced the arm movements, struggling a lot more compared to the other style. Billy, however, would take every single opportunity to keep his hands glued to your body.
And that certainly didn’t help your learning process.
The longer you practiced, the further up your chest his hands wandered. Until they were so close to the hills of your breasts that you just couldn’t take it anymore.
“Wait a second,” you said, stopping your movements as you faced him again.
His touch still lingered on your body, making it impossible for you to stay focused any longer. And your mind eventually said fuck it.
You swung your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against his in a moment of crazy courage. He immediately reciprocated it, his kiss much hungrier than yours as he fully claimed you.
He swam back to the edge of the pool, pushing your back against the wall, his arms on either side of you. He licked along your bottom lip and you didn’t hesitate to let him in, being consumed by his tongue in an instant, not even standing a chance to fight for dominance.
One hand of his moved back to your body, pulling on the strap of your bathing suit. Billy surely wasn’t wasting any time. You moaned into his mouth, earning a smug chuckle from him.
He knew he had you right where he wanted you in this moment, compliant and needy for all he had to offer. He pulled the other strap of your bathing suit down, removing the fabric from your chest and exposing your breasts to him.
“What a pretty little thing you are,” he commented, eyes glued to your chest, then moved his hand to grab a handful, pinching your nipple and pulling on it as he went back to kissing you.
His other hand moved to the back of your neck, burying it in your hair as he suddenly tugged on your ponytail, eliciting a surprised shriek from you that quickly turned into a desperate whine when Billy’s lips wandered further down your jaw, then your neck, until he quickly found your sweet spot, sucking on your delicate skin and chuckling at the way you made it so easy for him to turn you into a little pathetic mess.
His mess.
“Billy,” you whimpered when his hand just wouldn’t travel further down your body to where you needed him the most. “Billy, please.”
You tried to move his hand yourself but he was too strong, easily withstanding the little strength you had in you.
“Why don’t you show me first if you have it, doll?” He said once he pulled back, looking right into your eyes with a challenging look on his face. “Everyone says you’re Hawkins’ sweet, little angel… but be honest with me, doll, and tell me I’m right about you.”
He leaned forwards, his lips lightly grazing your ear as he continued talking. “You’re anything from an angel, are you?”
He grabbed your wrist, moving it down to his dick as he pulled it out of his swim shorts, then looking back into your eyes, waiting for you to start jerking him off. “I’m sure you know exactly how to make a man happy, don’t you?”
You didn’t even bother answering his question, instead opting for taking on his little challenge when you started to move your hand up and down his shaft. “Yeah,” he chuckled. “That’s it, doll.”
But soon, his chuckle turned into a low, stifled groan as he tried to keep it together, not wanting to let you win by being the one to turn him into putty in your hands. Billy Hargrove was in charge, always. He had to be.
His breathing got quicker, more uneven as his dick began to throb in your hands. He could barely keep his grunts to himself now as he held onto the edge of the pool behind you, so hard his knuckles turned white.
“Oh, fuuuck, “ he cursed with a strangled voice as he came in the water, quickly engulfing you in a hard, passionate kiss to stifle any more moans. You made sure to keep pumping him until the very last drop of cum, smiling into the kiss when the realization hit you.
You had just given Billy Hargrove a handjob. But not just any, no. A handjob in the middle of the night in the water of Hawkins’ Community Pool. If your swimming lessons were off to a start like this, you could not wait to find out what else he had in store for you.
“Fuck, who taught you this, doll?” He mumbled against your lips as he slowly came down from his high.
“A sweet, little angel doesn’t share her secrets,” you replied with a sheepish grin on your lips, looking into his now much darker eyes as you wrapped your legs around his middle and your arms around his neck again.
“So, tell me, teacher. What else are you gonna teach me tonight?” You asked, surprised about your newfound courage, albeit proudly using it to your advantage. “I don’t think you need any more lessons, doll. However, I do have something in mind,” he remarked teasingly, pulling your bathing suit all the way down before letting it sink to the bottom of the pool. “Can’t do that in the water though. I don’t wanna drown.”
He helped you out of the pool, hungrily staring at your naked body once he skillfully pushed himself up on the edge and out of the water, quickly walking towards you. He lifted you up without warning, two strong hands underneath your thighs as he walked you over to the loungers and sat down on one of them with you straddling his lap.
His hands moved up your legs to your ass, squeezing your flesh as his tongue was already back in your mouth, twirling around yours with a remarkable passion that nearly took your breath away. He slapped one of your cheeks, the contact leaving a sweet sting in its wake, as he chuckled at the fact that his little slap had such a big impact on you.
Even though he had just come in the pool not even five minutes ago, you could already feel his cock starting to press through his shorts against your throbbing core. You were aching for him, needy for any kind of touch, but most desperate for his dick inside you, as you felt your wetness dripping onto his lap.
“Fuck, Billy,” you whined, dragging out the last syllable of his name as you moved your hips against his crotch in a pathetic attempt at finding at least some kind of relief.
“Uh-uh,” he warned you, hands on your hips as he stopped your motions. “I’m in charge.” He lay down on the lounger, pushing your hips up as he guided you up his body until you were sitting on his abs.
“I know I said I didn’t wanna drown, but I don’t think the odds are in my favor with you,” he commented, then took your hands in his as he motioned for you to sit on… his face.
Nervousness spread through your veins. You were scared of hurting him. This was certainly something you’d never done with anybody, not even dreamed of doing actually.
Even though Billy had always challenged the filthiest of dreams your subconscious could produce. “Don’t be afraid, doll. I’ve done this a hundred times. You’ll be more than fine, trust me.”
He pushed your hips down until you were kneeling right above his face. His hands had a strong grip on your ass in order to keep you from trying to hover.
You could already feel his nose brush against your pulsing clit, flinching at the shock of pleasure the contact sent up your spine and all the way through your body. Once he had you all situated on top of him, he licked a broad stroke through your folds, humming against your throbbing cunt at the taste of you.
Billy wrapped his lips around your sensitive bud, sucking on it first before skillfully flicking his tense tongue back and forth at a ruthless pace, not stopping once or slowing down in order for you to catch your breath.
“Oh, fuck, Billy. Fuck!” You cried out, your body shaking from the intense pleasure as you buried your hands in his hair, tugging on it in a desperate attempt at somehow surviving his merciless attack on your aching cunt.
Your juices dribbled down onto his chin, running down his jaw as he kept going on your clit, his hands keeping you steady and continuously pulling you down onto his face whenever you tried to pull away.
“No, Billy, fuck! Stop! I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” you whimpered, begging him to stop as tears started running down your hot cheeks.
Shortly after, you choked on your own whines, merely letting out weak sobs as Billy pushed you to the very edge of the precipice, the highest you’ve ever been on. Soon, the pleasure turned into sweet pain as you came all over his face, the relentless flicks of his tongue making you scream when the orgasm that washed over you became too much too handle.
Your legs threatened to give in underneath your trembling body but Billy made sure to hold you as he coaxed you through your orgasm, not even considering to slow down on your clit. It felt like everything turned around you as you found yourself in this sweet euphoria.
You were a total mess like you’ve never been before as you slowly came down from that devastating high, your orgasm sending the last few subtle shock waves through your body. Eventually, your breathing slowed down, too, as you came back to your senses.
Billy pushed you off his face and back down on his lap as he got up. He wrapped your arms around his neck for you as he scanned your absolutely fucked-out face. Your vision slowly became clearer as you looked into his face, your eyes immediately darting down to his glistening mouth, chin, even his jaw and a little bit down neck.
“I think I actually nearly drowned, doll. Impressive,” he commented, pushing a loose strand of your hair back as he played with your ponytail. “You’re fun.”
But you still couldn’t talk. You barely even registered his words as your body fell almost limp against his defined abs, the afterglow debilitating as you kept waiting for your heartbeat to slow down.
A few moments later and with your breathing finally back to normal, Billy helped you off his lap, making you kneel in front of him. He placed two fingers under your chin, tilting it up to look at you.
“I think it’s only fair for you to return the favor,” he said, pulling his dick out of his shorts with his other hand. “And show me what else you got.”
He moved the hand underneath your chin to the back of your head, guiding you forwards until your lips touched his already leaking tip. He didn’t push you any further but waited for you to start instead.
You didn’t let him wait for long, almost instantly wrapping your lips around his dick, circling your tongue around his tip first while you jerked the rest of him off with your hand. Billy leaned back on one hand, leaving the other one buried in your ponytail as his breathing slowly got more and more rapid with each passing second.
You took more of him in, so far until it reached the back of your throat, making you nearly gag around his throbbing cock. The hand in your hair moved your head to the rhythm you set, slightly pulling on your roots when he tried to somehow handle the pleasure you sent all the way through his body.
Low grunts and curses escaped his throat as you looked up into his face, observing how it contorted even more when you tended to his balls. You couldn’t help but smirk around him for a short moment as you watched him close his eyes, fighting to keep it together somehow.
“Fuucking he-,” he rasped, and both of you felt how close he was. “You fucki-“
However, you didn’t stop sucking him off just as mercilessly as he licked your clit, wanting to pay him back for the way he absolutely tortured you just moments ago.
But he wouldn’t be Billy Hargrove if he wasn’t in charge. So he abruptly pulled your head away from him before he would come, his dick throbbing and glistening from the small drops of his cum mixed with your saliva.
His thumb brushed along your bottom lip as he looked down at you with a pleased smirk on his face. “Good girl.”
He then moved, standing up to push you back onto the lounger, not saying a word as he pressed your chest down against the surface, holding your hands behind your back as you were once again on your knees for him.
He also didn’t warn you before he pushed into you, rough and fast, without giving you any time to adjust — he knew you were wet enough for him anyways, leaving trails of your juices everywhere you went.
His pace was just as rough and fast as he mercilessly stretched out your walls, pounding into you from behind like he owned your body. His pace stole all the air from your lungs, and being pressed into the lounger didn’t help either — all you could utter were strangled cries and whimpers.
And all you could do was wait for a second push off that obliterating edge.
But also Billy was past the point of keeping any lewd noises to himself now, grunting and groaning as his hand dug deep into the flesh of your hip which continuously slapped against his, filling the silence of the pool with even more lewd sounds.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he rasped, his thrusts slowly but surely feeling a lot more uneven as he strained against the way your cunt gripped him like a vice.
And you, too, felt your body recklessly chasing the euphoria once again, sensing the arousal shooting through your veins as you headed straight for that sweet high.
“Fuck! You gonna come for me, doll?” Billy asked. “Fuck! I’m fuck- ugh. I’m so fucking close.”
His hand moved from your hip to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he finally pushed you over that sweet edge once again, the sheer enormity of your orgasm sending destructive pulses through your body, echoing in your ears as you slumped into devastating obliteration.
Your cunt clenched around him, ultimately pushing him off his own edge, too, as he suddenly pulled out, leaving you feeling empty as you continued to clench around nothing.
Soon after, his hot cum spurted out and onto your back, marking you as his, never letting you forget all the things that he had done to you on this fateful night of private lessons.
Once you came down from your high, you turned around, sitting on the edge of that lounger, however, rather uncomfortable from the soreness he’s left in his wake.
“Thanks, doll. Damn, didn’t think you had it in you, not gonna lie,” he eventually commented, all dressed again, placing a peck on your forehead. “See you next week.”
And with that, Billy Hargrove left you sitting on that lounger.
Once a sweet girl, now turned into a filthy mess, her bathing suit still lying on the bottom of that pool, waiting to be rescued before business would continue as usual in just a few hours.
All just so Billy Hargrove could finally tick you off his list.
THANK YOU FOR READING <3
i’d be more than happy to receive some feedback, so leave a comment, send in an ask or reblog to share it with others!
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karteinss · 9 months
Text
Maid Cafe | 02: Second visit
Dom! Male reader x Sub! Childe/Tartaglia
Part 1
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Repost from my Wattpad Collection
Nsfw, Dom! Male reader, Sub! Childe/Tartaglia, Handjob
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Second Visit
A few weeks passed by ever since that "encounter" in that maid cafe but you couldn't stop thinking about it every goddamn day, even at work you got all these erotic thoughts about the indigo haired worker named Scara.
He had always been on your mind, when you woke up, when you took a shower and even when you're taking a piss. He was always on your mind, a part of yourself thought about how disgusting it was but your inner self couldn't help but enjoy all those erotic thoughts about the said worker.
You said you hated having those thoughts about him but you secretly jerked off with the image of him beneath you.
-
It was 10PM as you sighed at yet another dirty thought of that worker crossed your mind. It was getting annoying by each passing day but you couldn't help but enjoy and get aroused at those thoughts. You leaned back against your office chair, another day of doing overtime- At least you get paid fairly well for this. As you closed your eyes to take a minute of "break", your co-worker that was next to you said his goodbyes as you nodded. Now, you were all alone in the still lighten up office. You looked around the office to see how no one was there, this was your chance to palm at your secretly growing erection. You palmed in-between your thighs, as you let out a soft groan of relief, but you quickly removed your hand from it as you realized you still haven't finished the work you were assigned to.
You let out an exaggerated sigh as you leaned over the desk. This is going to take a while.
-
After what felt like hours, you finally finished your work as the clock hits 11PM. You packed up your work bag and tidied up your desk, you shut off the lights as you went down the elevator, it was already really dark outside, only a few janitors were seen at the extravagant lobby as you said your goodbyes to them as a way to be polite. You walked through the automatic door, the nightlights were shining at you as you squinted at the sudden flash. You made your way to the other side of the unusually empty road as you remembered that you promised yourself to walk home everyday to save some money, well it was worth it- The calming scenery of the city and crowded areas made you feel sort of relaxed.
You walked and walked as you finally made it to the busy parts of the city, the flashing and colorful lights and the active people wandering around the place always made you safe. You hummed as you wander throughout the busy streets but as you walked passed by a familiar cafe, you stopped on your tracks as you take a second to look at it- It was the Maid Cafe, where you paid to get a blowjob from a stranger, it was just like those memes of horny guys paying their friends to give them a blowjob for 20 bucks but you never thought about having to experience it yourself.
You sighed as you closed your eyes, you're definitely NOT going back there, and why should you? Pornhub and other Porn websites exists for free, so why pay when you could just jack off in your tiny apartment room? Well, the answer is that you can't lose your virginity by jacking off can you? Your virgin ass never touched a man nor a woman explicitly, except for that one encounter of course- but that doesn't count. You paid for it.
As you kept rambling inside a head, you sensed someone was behind you as you looked back to see a familiar ginger haired man- Ah, it was one of the workers from the maid cafe..
The ginger haired man looked at you with a soft smile visible on his pretty face as you felt your cheeks heating up slightly. "Hi again! Are you here to visit us again? We have a special promo so all of the food, drinks and special services are all 30% off!" The man said excitedly as he advertised you to what it seems like fairly good deals- wait, what are am i thinking!?
No, I promised to never go here again so why am i-
"A handjob would only cost $7, how cheap is that?" The ginger haired man said with a giggle but his eyes were looking at you like he was trying to convince you to come inside the cafe again.
$7...
Was it worth it?
You could buy a whole chipotle burrito with that money...
As you kept thinking about it, the ginger haired man noticed that you were trying to decline the offer as he smirked and placed his fingers on your palm "I can reassure you I'm good with my fingers, sir. I can make you..." He leans in to your ear "Feels things you haven't before, how's that, hm?" Then, something inside of you snapped as you didn't care anymore. The way his finger was tracing over your palm and his seductive voice was too much. "Fine, I'll do it." The man smiled at your answer as he went back to his usual happy expression as he leads you inside the cafe. The cafe's lights immediately flashed your eyes, you'll never get used to such flashy lights, ever.
Without much waiting, the man immediately leads you to a room and unlocked the door, you looked around the room as it was no different from the one you were in last night. As you placed your work bag on the bedside table, the man bends over Infront of you as he pulls out a condom from the drawers.
You could see his ass and damn, he was flat as hell.
As he finally rips out the condom packet he stared at you and hinted to you to unzip your pants as you did, you slowly unzipped your cheap pants and pulled down your boxers as they both pooled underneath your ankles.
Like Scara, he too was surprised at your size and length as he whisteled and sat next to you. "You're a big one, aren't ya?" The blue eyed man teases as he slowly puts the condom on your now hardened cock "I wish I could fuck myself on that cock." He teases yet again as you blushed at the comment, you just smiled at him as he begins to slowly pump your cock with his soft hands skillfully. "Call me Ajax, by the way."
Ajax? What a pretty name for a pretty boy, you thought.
As Ajax kept pumping your cock with his skillfull hand, you couldn't help but groan at the sensation, it felt so fucking good to feel such a skillfull and soft hand around your cock. Ajax seemed to notice you were enjoying this as he smirked and pumped even faster, making you groan even louder. "Angh- A-ajax, slow down.." You let out between your groans and moans as the way his fingers were around your cock felt so goddsmn good, Ajax just smiled at your request as he leaned in "Hm? I thought you were enjoying this?" He asks innocently as his pumps became faster, you let out the loudest groans you could, your hands gripped Ajax's thigh and bedsheets as all you could do was thrust back into his hand.
Your cock was fucking Ajax's hand, close for release as Ajax's smirk grew wider at the sight. He placed his thumb on the slit as he rubs it slowly, making you let out an unexpected whimper. "F-fuck! Let me c-cum...ajax-!" You whined as Ajax refused to do so, his grip and press tightened as you fucked his hand faster "P-PLLEASEE!" You let out another groan as you begged him to release his thumb, You felt your eyes starting to tear up at such torture. Ajax's eyes glitens in Glee as he leans into whisper the most erotic things into your ears, "Your cockhead is so red..it's like its going to burst any moment now...ah~ it makes me need your cock stuffed in me more, master.." He whispers, his voice became a bit more high pitched as his words felt like moans- You couldn't help but thrust faster into his thumb, "Mmh~ You're so big, master...i want you inside of me and release deep inside of me...~" Ajax moaned sluttily into your ear as you fucked his hand faster.
Finally, Ajax released his thumb from your slit as you finally released inside the condom, you breathed out heavily, still not covering from the high yet. Ajax lets go off his hand on your cock as he smirked at the sight, of what he just made you to be. "Mm, you did so good..I wished you could've fucked me instead though~" He teasingly said as he pulls out the used condom and threw it in the trashcan as he opened the bathroom door and washed his hands. Meanwhile, you were just recovering from the high as you still breathed heavily, well- that was a new experience. You never felt this good while jacking off. It truly was addicting.
-
After you finished paying at the cashier, you slipped your phone back to your pocket as you sighed.
Fuck, that felt so goddamn good.
You walked over to the door to leave but suddenly, Ajax stood right next to you when you were just about to leave.
"Come back soon, yeah? I can't wait for you to stuff your huge cock inside of me, master."
You felt your pants tightening again.
Oh, this might start to become an addiction.
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carlos55edits · 1 year
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Peeping Tom
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader
Warning: Smut
PLEASE DO NOT TAKE MY STORIES AND PLAGIARIZE THEM OR REPOST THEM! THANKS! ❤️
A new neighbor has moved across the street from you and Carlos’ shared home. You took it upon yourself to walk over and introduce yourself to welcome him into the neighborhood. He introduced himself as Lando. While talking to him about what was around the neighborhood, you were getting a sense that he was checking you out. You kindly dismissed yourself and mentioned that you had to go home and start dinner before your husband arrived home. Little did you know, Lando was looking at your ass as you were walking away.  
Different smells of seasonings poured out of the kitchen as you swayed to the music making your favorite dish, chicken alfredo. Carlos walks into the kitchen with his black t-shirt and navy jogger pants.
“Smells amazing in here baby” He kissed your lips as he moves behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you stir the pot.
“I thought we could have my favorite tonight since we haven’t had it in a while.” You turned around in his arms and held the fork up to his lips with a small piece of chicken and a few noodles handing off the fork. Carlos takes the fork into his mouth, closing his eyes to savor the flavor.  
“Mmm. Damn, you never miss when you cook dinner.” His brown eyes met yours.  
“Good right?!” Smiling, you turned back around to put the fork down on the counter beside the stove and turned the pot to a low simmer.
“By the way, I met the new neighbor today.” You turned to look at Carlos, crossing your arms against your chest and leaning back on the counter.  
“Oh yeah? How did that go? I know I have to introduce myself to him.” He says while letting go of you and leaning against the sink across from you.  
“He seems like a nice fellow. His name is Lando. I recommended some places for him to check out around here...while he was checking me out.” You rolled your eyes and shook your head.  
“Well, I don’t blame him babe. I would check you out too.” Carlos smiles and bites his bottom lip, looking at you up and down. He reached for you and pulled you towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his hands on your ass. Giving it a light squeeze.  
“No Carlos. I caught him looking across the street into the house today while I was cleaning the living room and we made eye contact. It was very awkward as hell.” Carlos leaned his head back and laughed.  
“Why don’t we give him something that’s worth looking at. Something that he won’t be able to forget?” He motions his head towards the window.
“For free?” You gave him a confused look on his face. He laughed at you while a huge smile spreads across your face.
“How about we be adventurous and make someone’s night. Let them have a happy ending too, no? Carlos leans down and kisses your lips.
“And you are okay with letting another man see me in all my glory? You uncross your arms and wrap them around Carlos, pinching his ass.
“I don’t care if he sees you naked just this once. We trust each other and you know who you belong to.” He stares into your eyes with lust growing in them.  
Carlos leans in to kiss you, each kiss becomes deeper. His hands leave your ass, moving down to your thighs, picking you up as you wrap your arms around his neck.  
He walks you over into the living room, laying you down on the couch. He stands back up, taking off his shirt. You bite your bottom lip as you take in his tone chest and abs. You reach out to him, rubbing your hand from his chest down to his abs. His tan skin is smooth and warm to the touch. You move your hand over to his v-line, tracing it down to the top of his jogger pants. Carlos put his hand on top of yours, stopping you.
“I want you to strip for me.” He helps you off the couch, switching places.  
You stand in front of him. You lean down and kiss him, pushing him to lean all the way back against the back of the couch. You stand up slowly, your hands sliding down his shoulders, chest, stomach, and over his thighs. You stand tall in front of him, starting to take off your shirt slowly, your curvy breast becoming free. Carlos watches your every move, taking in your beauty. No matter how many times he has seen you naked, it’s like seeing you for the first time, breathtaking.
You continue to strip for him, moving your hands gently over your breast, down your stomach, reaching the button of your shorts. You slowly unbutton them, letting them fall to the floor, your lace panties following.  
Carlos moves his eyes up and down your body like a lion looking at his prey. He moves his hand up to your breast to massage them gently. You lean your head back with your eyes closed. His hand moves further down your body, stopping at where you want to feel him touch you.  
“Mi amor, you are so fucking beautiful. I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He pulls you down, straddling his lap.  
You kiss his lips, taking in his tongue to play with yours. You bit his lower lip as you pulled away from him.  Moving over to his neck, you leave little kisses on a certain spot that shoots straight to his dick. You hear and feel the vibrations of his groans in your ear and under your lips. You move slowly on top of him, feeling his dick pressed against your already wet pussy.  
“I want your dick in my mouth.” You whispered in his ear as you kissed him one last time on the neck and slid down his body to your knees.  
You move your hand over his bulge, feeling him take in a deep breath. You look at him with hungry eyes as you slid his joggers off him, his dick springing free. You took his dick in your hand stroking him, feeling the smoothness of his dick. His girth and length are perfect. You lean down and lick him from the base of his dick to the tip, putting the tip in your mouth.  
You looked up as Carlos, his eyes meeting yours as you take him deeper into your warm, wet mouth. His head drops, resting on the back of the couch.  
“Joder, your mouth feels so good on my dick baby.” Carlos groans as he feels you start to move your mouth up and down, setting a pace. He places his hand in your hair, pushing you to go further down on him. You take all of him all the way down your throat, keeping him there for a few seconds.
“Just like that mi amor. So good.” A moan escapes his mouth as you ease off his dick and move down to suck on his balls. His dick is now slick enough from your spit so you can stroke him. You start to suck on his balls gently, licking them, reaching up to them to massage them. Carlos reaches down and pulls you up to swap places with him. He gets on his knees between your legs.
“Spread your legs for me mami. I want to taste you” He helps you put your legs on his shoulders.  
“Damn baby. Look at you. All wet and ready for him.” He licks your juices that have gotten on your thigh.
“You taste so sweet babygirl. I rather have your pussy for dinner tonight.” He starts to fully eat your pussy, focusing on your sensitive clit. You grab a handful of his hair, closing your eyes and arching your back off the couch.  
“Your fucking tongue feels so fucking good. Shit.” The moment you opened your eyes, you were met with another set of eyes that were not your boyfriend’s. You locked eyes with Lando, the new neighbor on the block. At that moment you didn’t care because Carlos was sending you straight into the clouds.  
“Car-Carlos. He’s watching.” You say in between breaths.
“Good. He can see how good I am at devouring this pussy of yours.” He dives back in with a newfound eagerness, this time slipping two fingers into your pussy. You feel your climax approaching as you start to ride yourself on Carlos’ face.  
“I’m so close. Don’t stop. I’m gonna come!” Your climax hits you like an earthquake. Your toes curl as you shake all around Carlos’ head. He reaches up to hold your hand. Your moans are sweet music to his ears.  
“Fuck mi amor. You almost drowned me.” He looks up at you as you settle down from your climax.  
“I want you to fuck me in front of the window so he can get a closer look.” You tell Carlos as you motioned your eyes towards the window. Carlos helps you off the couch kissing you all the way to the window.  
“Bend that ass over for me.” He turns you around and bends you over the table that is in front of the living room window with a little force. He bends down to your ear and whispers something you thought you would never hear out of his mouth.  
“While I am fucking you, I want you to look at him in his eyes.” You look at him as you shake your head up and down.
“I need you to use your words babygirl.” He moves your hair from your face to get a better look at you.
“Yes sir.” You make contact with his doe brown eyes. So much want filling them making them to appear darker.  
“Good girl.” He kisses down your back. He lines himself up to you entrance, pressing the tip of his dick in slowly. You both let go of a sigh of relief as he pushes himself halfway in. ��
“Baby, you are so damn tight. I know you can take all of me.” You push back against him wanting to feel all of him inside you.  
“I want all that dick inside me daddy.” You push back against getting all of him inside you. You could feel him stretching you to the max. He waits a little before he begins to thrust, so he doesn’t hurt you.  
“Please don’t make me wait any longer.” Carlos took that as an order and started to fuck you with force, taking you by surprise.
“Is this what you want baby? You want the neighbor to see how good I fuck that tight pussy of yours hmm?  He grabs your hips tightly as he fucks you. The sound of skin slapping against each other filling the room.  
“Yes! Yes! Fuck! Just like that!” You opened your eyes and made eye contact with Lando across the street. You wanted him to know that this is for him. As you focus a little better you see that he is having a little fun himself. You can’t see too clearly but it looks as if his hand is moving back and forth, as if he is stroking his dick.  
Carlos grabs your hair, making a ponytail before he pulls you up against his chest. He continues to fuck you with such a steady pace. He grabs your breast, giving them a squeeze.
“You like him watching, don’t you? Hmm? Pleasuring himself to us fucking. Look at him babe.” You and Carlos make eye contact with him as he moves his other hand down to your pussy, playing with your clit.
“Fuck Carlos, I can’t hold on much longer.” Your breathing becomes shorter.  
“I don’t care how good it feels, you better not come until I tell you too.” Carlos moves his hand from your clit and moves his arms around the front of your thigh for leverage. He starts fucking you with need. He wants to feel you tight pussy come on his dick.  
“Mmm I feel you getting so close baby. I want us to come together. Can you do that for me baby?” Carlos whispers in your ear.  
“Yes Sir. Make me come on your dick.” You and Carlos’ moans and groans filled the room. His hand leaves your breast and wraps it around your throat.  
“Come on my dick mi amor. I’m almost there. Fuck! Carlos moans in your ear.  
“I want you to come inside me daddy. I want you to fill me up.” After those words came out of your mouth, Carlos' comes inside you with a groan.  
“Ahh fuuuck! I’m coming!” Carlos holds on to you tightly against him, making sure he is getting all of his cum inside your pussy. The feeling of him filling you up brought you to your second climax of the night.  
“Fuck Carlos! I’m coming! Fuck! Shit! You started to scream as you feel your juices squirt out of you, some dripping on the floor and some rolling down Carlos’ dick, falling off his balls onto the floor. You shake uncontrollably in his arm, the feeling of your legs become jelly. Carlos wraps his arm around your waist, holding you up to make sure you don’t fall as you ride out your high. He slowly pulls out of you, some of his cum dripping out, hitting the floor along with your puddle of juices.  
“Damn baby. That was...” Carlos leans his forehead on your shoulders trying to catch his breath.  
“Different?” You say as you turn to him kiss him on his lips. You both smile at each other. You turn back around and look across the street to see if your one-person audience had a good show. He was just standing there looking back at us with a euphoric look on his face. There were some streaks on the window. You are not sure to make of it, but it looks like he got his happy ending for the night.
“Why don’t you go get the shower ready for us so we can eat this wonderful dinner that you cooked for us?” Carlos kisses your temple before he lets you walk away. He walks up to the window, putting his hands on the curtain’s fabric. Before he closes the curtain, he gives Lando a little wink before shutting them closed.  
528 notes · View notes
milkycottoncandy · 1 year
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Give Yourself To Me And More
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Attuma of Talokan x Female!Reader
Warnings: SMUT, 18+ content, obsessive behavior, somewhat dark!Attuma, rough (consensual) sex, choking, tit slapping, breeding kink, dirty talk
Minors Do Not Interact!!!
Summary: Attuma liked to think he was a patient man. Being Talokan's commanding general has taught him how to stay composed in stressful situations, and for the most part he knows patience is a virtue. However, you test his limits everyday with your lingering touches, bright smile, and kind words that make it hard for him to hold back, to leave you untouched and still pure. But like all the strongest of men, eventually they must fall.
Word Count: 2,895
Skip to the three *** if all you want to read is the smut (I'm not judging at all lol).
Translations:
Ma', in querida- No, my darling
In yakunaj- my darling
Author's Note: Hello my Attuma sluts!! Decided to give you guys this and I hope y'all enjoy it. This is my first time writing smut so please, be nice! I will only accept constructive criticism and no hate will be tolerated. Besides that, please enjoy!
Do not steal, copy, plagiarize, or repost my works. Reblog's are fine.
🌊🦈🌊🦈🌊🦈🌊🦈🌊🦈🌊🦈🌊🦈🌊🦈🌊🦈
It felt like Chaac himself was testing him.
He was solely focused on making the surface world and all who inhabited it, who forced his people into the dark, cold, unforgiving depths of the ocean, pay for their crimes, all while being confronted by the dangers that were at every corner. Dangers like you.
To him, you were a radiant goddess, and this world was unworthy of your existence. You were always beautiful from the beginning, and it seemed like each time you both interacted with each other, his feelings became even stronger. What made it worse is you always focused your attention on him. You would bring him homemade lunches, offer to massage the aches in his body after he was done training, be the first to welcome him back after a successful mission, and so much more. It was a miracle he hadn't died from a heart attack with the way it always swelled when he was near you.
You were the light in his life, and it didn't help that you started to appear in his dreams and late-night fantasies, making him feel shameful the morning after. In his mind, he had taken you many times, taking pleasure from you like a lover. You were begging him, touching him, letting him touch you, making him feel less lonely when you weren't near him. You were the reason to keep Talokan safe. You were something worth fighting for. In his mind, you were his, and he was yours.
But reality would reel him back in, like a fish attached to a hook, and he would remember you were simply being the kind person you always were. You laughed and smiled with everyone, you were amazing with children, and you never hesitated to offer help when asked. It's like you were taunting him with your gentle affections, always holding his hand and pulling him to somewhere more private so you both could indulge yourselves in each other's lives. He loved when you would hug him, you felt so soft in his arms, and he would kill a thousand men if that meant never having to let you go. He adored you. If you told him to jump, he'd say how high.
You were enchanting.
You were mesmerizing.
You were a danger to his sanity and beyond distracting.
Attuma wondered how long this would go on. How long he would pine for you, yearn for your attention, for you to say his name like you loved him, pretend like the thought of someone else sweeping you off your feet wasn't possible. That was his worst fear, waiting too long and someone taking you from him. He would kill that person with no hesitation. Would there ever be an end to this madness? Was he doomed for eternity to feel this way about you? Would he be forced to act like you weren't the first thing on his mind when he woke up and the last thing when sleep would finally overtake him?
One night, he decided it was enough. You pushed him to the limit, and he was going to be honest with you about his feelings. On the way to your house, his mind was a sea of questions and doubts.
What if she doesn't feel the same way?
What if I ruin what we have?
What if she thinks I'm unworthy?
What will I do without her? Without my light?
By the time he got to your front door, he had thought of everything that could go wrong. For a moment, he wanted to turn back. He didn't want to lose you. He didn't want things to change in a way that would make you feel uncomfortable around him. Despite his uncertainty, he gently knocked on your door and waited.
You swiftly opened the door, and it was like all his thoughts drifted away into nothingness. You were wearing a blue silk nightgown that outlined your body perfectly, and Attuma had to control himself from staring at your cleavage. Your eyes brightened, and that smile that made him feel weak slowly adorned your face.
"Attuma!" you squealed in excitement and hugged him, digging your face into his neck. You smelled amazing, like vanilla with a hint of cinnamon.
He hugged you back and, for a moment, felt like maybe the world wasn't so bad since you were in it. He felt you pull back, and he looked to see you admiring him. You both stilled, and, in a way, were speaking to each other with your eyes. You both had been friends for so long that verbal communication wasn't always necessary.
"Please, come in" you slide your hands down his arms to his, gently pulling him into your house. He followed willingly, and once he was fully inside, you closed the door behind him.
 Attuma loved your house. The beautiful decorations, the smell, the atmosphere. Everything.
Your light touch to his back shook him out of his thoughts, and you led him to the familiar couch you both have sat on more times than he could count. You relaxed into the cushions while facing him with a smile, which he returned.
"What brings you here, my warrior?" you asked, taking his hand and delicately tracing his palm while you waited for his answer. Namora and K'uk'ulkan were right. You were going to be the death of him.
Attuma felt like he had fallen into ice water. He remembered the reason why he was here, to tell you how he felt. At this rare moment, the fearless general was scared. A part of him wanted to lie, come up with an excuse that he wanted to simply talk with you, and that was all. But you didn't deserve that. No, you deserved everything and so much more. He quietly swallowed, and he braced himself for all the possible scenarios that could happen.
"Y/N, I have to tell you something," he stated, taking your hands in his and scooting closer toward you on the couch.
He never took his eyes off yours, and you felt your body tingling under his gaze. He could sense your nervousness and continued with his confession.
"I have strong feelings for you, Y/N. Feelings stronger than love. Feelings I can't hide from you anymore."
The room was silent. You looked at him with a mix of shock and surprise. His face was serious and unchanging. Attuma didn't like this, and the doubts started to rear their ugly heads back into his mind.
You idiot, you really thought she would feel the same? Now she's gonna hate you forever, and there's nothing you can do about it.
Attuma wanted to leave. Leave and never come back. He knew this was a bad idea. He shouldn't have let his selfishness get the better of him. And now he was going to lose you forever. He was going to lose you, and it would be no one's fault but his. Why would he ever thi-
"I feel the same," you whispered. He thought he was dreaming. He had to be. He was going to wake up in his empty bed and realize none of this was real.
Oh, but it was real. Here you were, looking at him with nothing but love and understanding. You smiled, not in a mocking way, but in a genuine way. You had felt strongly about Attuma since the day you laid your eyes on him. You dropped so many hints that, to you, went unnoticed. The soft touches, the persisting looks, the sincere compliments, and so much more. In your mind, he was yours, and you were his. Your body felt like it was on fire, excitement slowly bubbling inside you.
Attuma didn't know what to say. The girl of his dreams admitted that she felt the same about him. He was like a deer in headlights, still and unmoving.
Say something, you fool.
"…You do?" he breathed, his eyes slowly softened.
Chaac, you're hopeless.
"I do," you answered, your tone was nothing but sincere.
The sight was laughable, two love-stricken fools gazing into each other's eyes like lovesick puppies. But you and Attuma didn't care. He loved you, and you loved him, and that's all that mattered.
Attuma paused. He didn't think this would happen. He knew every battle strategy, where and when to strike the enemy, how to keep them in a position where they couldn't win, but being with you, it's like he forgot everything. But he did know one thing. He wanted you.
He wanted you bad.
"May I kiss you, Y/N?" he pleaded desperately. Of course, he was a gentleman, and if you said no, he would be perfectly fine with that. For you, he would wait as long as you believed he needed to.
"Yes," you replied, ecstatic and smiling so hard your mouth started to hurt.
***
He gently grabbed your face, and your lips collided with his, moving in perfect sync like waves against the shore. It started off innocent but gradually became more animalistic and primal, and soon you were straddling his waist while his large hands cupped your ass. You decided to tease him by grinding on his manhood, causing a low groan to emit from his throat that made your pussy shiver. He teased you back by pulling your hair, revealing your neck, and started to litter the area with kisses and love bites, going lower and lower. You uncontrollably moaned, unaware of his hands drifting up toward the straps of your nightgown. He suddenly yanked down both the straps and massaged your breasts, uttering a groan while massaging the soft skin in his hands.
"So beautiful for me," he praised, his large hand wrapping around your throat, making you whimper. 
You moaned like a whore. A dirty, filthy whore. And Attuma wanted all of it. He wanted all of you.
"Attuma," you whispered, eyelids growing heavy as you struggled to stay conscious. It felt like he was squeezing the life out of you, and you felt your vision start to cloud until he roughly pulled you towards him.
"Ma', querida, you're not getting out of this that easily," he slapped your breast, making you scream. He then kissed your hot skin as an apology.
Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted by the giant brute and quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs, somewhat around his large waist. He swiftly made his way towards your bedroom, eyes never leaving yours. When he reached your room, he gently laid you on your bed, and you shivered, questioning what his next move would be. Silently, he slid your nightgown off your body, leaving you in your blue panties that were soaked with your arousal. For some reason, you felt self-conscious, and your hands were attempting to shield your body from his gaze. 
"Don't you dare," he warned, and you listened without hesitation, your hands retreating back to your sides.
Attuma then made his way on top of you, touching and kissing every part of your body. He eventually made his way to your underwear, and he bit down on the material, slowly pulling them off and revealing your wetness. You gasped at the sight. You couldn't believe this was happening. Without warning, he raised your legs and rested them upon his shoulders, his mouth only inches away from your pussy.
Just as you were about to beg him, you shrieked as he licked your cunt. Your eyes widened, and you screamed as Attuma clamped his mouth around your clit and sucked relentlessly, rolling the bud with his tongue and making your legs shake. You were instantly wet, juices gushing out of you. Lewd noises filled the room as he devoured you, mixed with your vulgar profanities while you desperately grinded on his tongue. 
You trembled under him, reduced to nothing but a panting mess as you could do nothing but take it. You held onto the bed sheets for dear life and sobbed as he gave you the best orgasm you've ever had. 
Attuma drank every drop of your wetness, feeling your pussy shake against his lips. He could've stayed between your legs forever, but he had bigger plans to get to. 
Begrudgingly, he released your clit from his mouth and laid your legs down. He slowly moved back to the edge of the bed and stood tall, admiring his work. He wiped his mouth and started to undress, and you caught a glimpse of his battle scars covering his body. He truly was magnificent. 
Your eyes moved further down to his cock. It was hard and girthy, and you noticed precum oozing out of the tip. You swallowed. This was going to be a night to remember. He climbed back onto the bed and hovered over you, rubbing his dick against your pussy. Nothing could brace you for what was about to happen next.
You screamed as he slammed himself inside you, stretching you open and filling you up. You looked to see your belly bulging with the shape of his cock, it was completely obscene. 
Attuma groaned; you were so deliciously tight around him, your soft walls pulling him in as he rutted up against you. He grabbed your hips with a bruising force and pulled you impossibly closer, your tits flushed against his chest. He fit inside you so perfectly, and you took him so well, it made him wonder why he had waited. He should have done this a long time ago.
He set a brutal pace as he repeatedly pounded into you, causing the bed to shake and your eyes to roll back. He couldn't take his eyes off the way your pussy engulfed his dick with each thrust. You looked so dumb and pretty, just like in his fantasies he imagined and touched himself to in the late hours of the night. Your moans were sweeter than any siren song, and Attuma wanted to hear you sing for him more.
"You're so wet," he grunted,  pulling out and slamming back in.
"You're a little slut, aren't you? This is what you wanted all along, isn't that right?" You shook your head and cried, it was too much, and you screamed as his dick continued smacking against your womb.
"A-Attuma, please slow down. You're going to break me!" You wailed, trying to push him away.
"I. Don't. Care", he snarled, pounding hard into you after every word. You felt a hand on your throat, and your pussy squeezed him even more. 
"Naughty little girl," he teased as he kissed and sucked on your neck. "Wanting my cock like the dirty slut you are. I'm gonna make sure you're pregnant with our babies. That's what you want, isn't it?" 
"No! N-No, please!" You begged. That wasn't true. You marveled at the thought of having his children. You felt so horny, feeling his dick pounding into you. Attuma leaned forward and held you in a tight embrace, forcing you to look at him as you slowly surrendered to your desires.
"You're mine," he growled. "Only mine. Say it!"
"I'm yours!" you shouted. You didn't care if everyone in Talokan heard you. You only cared about who was on top of you, who was worshiping you, who was inside you. You were so painfully close to another orgasm, and Attuma knew it. 
"Cum for me, in yakunaj," he pleaded, resting his forehead against yours. You could barely speak, barely form a coherent thought as that familiar ache started to build up in your core. You were getting closer, and you loved it, the feeling of coming undone in front of him. 
Attuma bit into your shoulder and you threw your head back and came. Your pussy squirted around his cock, and you almost passed out from the pleasure. Your back arched as he came inside you, filling you up with his warm seed. You moaned his name as your body twitched against him, trying to regain some sense of normality. That was the best sex you've ever had in your life. 
For a while, you both stayed like that, gasping for air while he remained deep in your warmness. Sadly, he pulled out, and you whimpered at the empty feeling. His cum felt dangerously good inside you, and you shivered, basking in the fact that he claimed you, ruining you for anyone else. You looked up to see your lover, who was also coming down from his high.
Attuma looked beautifully wrecked, his hair a mess and sweat glistening on his body. You didn't look too bad either, but you weren't complaining. You pulled him down for a kiss which he gladly reciprocated. You were both tired but happy.
"Attuma," you sighed exasperatedly, "that was amazing," you praised. He smiled and caressed your cheek with his hand. You giggled and kissed his palm, running your thumb over where your lips once were. He returned the action and held your hand to his heart. You felt your body heat up at the gesture. You sat up and started peppering his face with kisses, and he did the same to you. 
"I love you, Y/N."
"I love you more, my warrior."
And at that moment, Attuma's world shined even brighter now that you were his.
End.
Thank you so much for reading!💙
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downbadf0rficppl · 2 months
Text
still be here in the morning?
Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader
Summary: You drive Nikolai wild. You want him to see you, to see you, but you're scared. If you give in to your desires and you let yourself fall, will he still be there in the morning?
Word Count: 2.9K
Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, lots of teasing, a lil bit of angst, and some fluff. Also the reader's nickname is Mouse - but it's not a size thing, it's an occupation thing *thumbs up emoji*
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It was safe to say you drove Nikolai wild. You hardly listened to his rules, questioning your Captain in his every decision and driving him crazy with your constant bickering. You knew that you could, you were Nikolai's star crewmate and he would never risk firing you. No one was a better diplomat, marksman, or sailor - except perhaps Nikolai himself. You were a good detective too - you were the only one of his crew to have figured out his true identity.
You had teased him about it on a brief visit to West Ravka - an old family painting had given it all away.
"You'll never guess what I found, Cap." You said, waltzing into his quarters and jumping up onto his desk. He tilted his face up to you - indicating that he was listening - but kept his eyes focused on the maps laid in front of him, studying new routes out west. You were only docked in Os Kervo to collect a round of new supplies - enough to keep you afloat to Novyi Zem or even further.
"Tell me, Mouse. What have you found that is so worth sharing that you break into my quarters?" He used the affectionate nickname you had picked up since joining the crew - you were quiet, almost undetectable when need by. Of course, Nikolai knew how annoying and boisterous you could get when you were comfortable. Still, the nickname had stuck. In fact, you were almost certain that aside from Nikolai, and the twins, no one could remember your true name. It didn't matter. You had moved on from that life.
"Well, Tolya and I spent most of our afternoon in the galleries in Os Kervo-"
"-leaving Tamar to collect the supplies? Yes, I heard about that. Just because you keep us out of trouble with the law does not mean that you get to delegate all your duties to someone else. We work together, Mouse, you'd do well to remember it."
"Yes, yes, she said she was fine with it. Something about getting Tolya's poetic arse off her back for a few hours," Nikolai chuckled at that, "And anyway, the interesting thing is what I found in the galleries. You see, despite the Fold, West Ravka is still a united nation-"
"I'm aware."
"Stop interrupting me!" You swatted him with a loose piece of paper on his desk, "It's rude. You'd have thought that you had some manners - what with your pretentious nature."
"Is there a point to this, Mouse? Because I suggest you get there soon."
"Well, what I was saying was, I came across a portrait. A new one - well, sort of. It had the King - Pyotr, that is - and his wife, and their sons. Did you know that they had 2? I had simply forgotten." A cheeky grin had snuck onto your face and Nikolai was now looking directly at you. You leaned in close to his ear, "I'd say they did the younger son a disservice, wouldn't you? Your Highness?"
Nikolai moved swiftly, clamping his hand down over your mouth. "Does Tolya know?"
You move his hand off your mouth, "Of course not. I'm not one to be going around spreading rumours that are not mine to spread."
"Good. And you're going to keep it that way. Especially if you want to stay on this ship."
"Oh, Nikolai. You're not going to fire me. You won't risk having the biggest threat to your secret not on your side. I'm a diplomat - I know how intimidation works," Nikolai fixes you with a stare, "Ok, I was a diplomat, whatever. Semantics. Point is, you're not going to fire me. Your secrecy depends on it."
After that day, your teasing had increased ten-fold and Nikolai's patience with you had decreased just as much. He hardly spoke to you if he didn't have orders to give you. And it pissed you off.
To be perfectly honest, you made his blood boil. Nikolai didn't know what it was about you, but you knowing who he was had tipped him over the edge. He thought that he was untraceable - a new persona, a new look. He'd made a point to never dock in Ravka - but needs must and there was no way they'd survive a trip to Kerch. They'd been running on fumes. To be honest, the trip had gone better than expected. But of all the people to find out, it just had to be you. He stewed alone in his chambers. They were currently in Novyi Zem, planning to head further west. Ravka had no power further west than Novyi Zem, a notion which many - including you - were grateful for.
He'd never taken the time to understand what you were running from - almost everyone in his crew was running from some demon, but you had never once let slip who you were before you joined Sturmhond's crew. He knew that you were a diplomat of some kind and that you were half-Ravkan, but beyond that, you were a mystery to him. Perhaps that's what pissed him off. That you knew exactly who he was and who he had been and he knew nothing about you.
A knock came at his door. Who the fuck could that be? To his knowledge, everyone was out partying in the taverns. Who could resist a peaceful night out when you spent every other night on a ship sailing in the middle of an ocean? Nikolai could. And so could this mystery person apparently. Nikolai opened his door before the guest knock again, groaning when he caught sight of who it was. You were standing at his door - coat and boots discarded and your shirt haphazardly untied. You pushed past him and made yourself comfortable in his chair, smiling as he ran a hand over his face.
"Awhh, don't look too happy to see me, Sturmhond. Or should I say, Nikolai?" You'd taken to teasing him in the privacy of his room, where you were sure no one could hear you.
"What do you want, Mouse?"
"I just wanted to see how my dear Majesty was holding up. It has been a rough week for us all."
"Cut the bullshit. I know you're here to piss me off. Not tonight, Mouse. Please."
"Ooh. I like it when you beg. Do it again." You grinned at him. You knew you were getting under his skin.
"I said not tonight. Get out, Mouse. Go piss off some drunkard in a tavern." Nikolai said, nearly pushing you out of the door. "Maybe he can fuck the attitude out of you," he whispered under his breath.
"Make me."
"I'm sorry, what?" Nikolai said, turning around to face you again.
"I said, make me, Lantsov."
"I told you to stop fucking using that name," Nikolai growled, pushing you up against the wall, his arm pushing under your boob. You flushed pink, heat pooling in your stomach.
Nikolai grinned, "Oh, I see." He looked you up and down, scanning your figure. You could feel your underwear soak with every second of his gaze.
"What do you see, Captain? Need me to get you a spyglass. Could help you-" You were cut off by Nikolai's lips on yours. They were soft, gentle, and yet demanding at the same time. It was nice. This was nice.
"Is that what you wanted, Mouse? Attention from your Captain?" The honourific felt dirty coming from his mouth. You felt the desire to push him further - to piss him off until he gave you what you wanted. What you needed.
"Are you sure it's not what you wanted Captain? You seem to be a lot more excited by this than I am."
Nikolai nearly growled at that, attaching his lips to yours again, before slipping your belt off. He slipped his hands down to your core, feeling the wetness and smirking.
"Not as excited as me, huh?" He rubbed a circle around your clit and watched your defenses crumble. You grabbed a fistful of his jacket in your hand as your hips bucked away from him.
Nikolai lifted you up easily, depositing you on his desk, "I wanted to fuck you that day. When you hopped up on this desk and threatened me the first time. Should've done it. Should've shown you exactly who the boss is around here."
He grabbed the small knife he kept in his breast pocket off the desk and flicked it open. You gasped. Nikolai grazed the knife against the outside of your hip, slicing cleanly through your underwear. You were glad you'd taken off your stays earlier - you weren't sure if you could survive him ruining your most comfortable stays.
He placed a gentle kiss on your throat before pulling your shirt off. He gazed at you, momentarily starstruck, before latching his mouth onto your nipple. A hand came up to toy with the other, and you dissolved into a moaning mess.
He pulled away from your nipple to grin at your state. You looked at him breathlessly, grinning, "Is that all you've got, Lantsov."
His stare turned dark. He dove down and buried himself in your pussy. He licked and nipped, flicking your clit with his tongue. He played you like a well-tuned instrument. He fucked your hole with his tongue - alternating between stroking your walls with his tongue and sucking on your clit.
Your orgasm washed over you unexpectedly, sending waves of pleasure through your veins. You clamped your thighs around Nikolai's head, throwing your head back as you cried out.
Nikolai lifted his head up, eyes glinting dangerously, wetness smeared all around his lips. He looked devious. In that moment, he was not Nikolai Lantsov, spare to the Lantsov name, but Sturmhond, masterful privateer, Captain of Volkvolny. You loved him for it.
"You've caused me a lot of trouble, Mouse."
"What are you going to do about it?" You bit your lip, hiding a smirk.
He threw his coat off, carrying you towards his bed. You were lucky that no one else was on board - if they heard what was going on you'd never live it down.
Nikolai laid you on the bed, stripping his clothes off at extraordinary speed. He was quickly inside you, eliciting whimpers from you at every movement. He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to thrust. His hips snapped into you at an ungodly pace and it was all that you could do to not fall apart on his cock.
Nikolai grinned at your silence, his eyes scanning over you. Your face was blissed out, eyes rolling to the back of your head every so often. Sweat glistened on your skin, as you rocked forwards at the force of his every thrust. He couldn't help the small praises that fell from his lips as you moaned lowly.
"Look at you, so fucking beautiful under me, spread out for me like a whore. That's what you are, my beautiful little whore." You moaned at the filth dripping out of his mouth, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Have I fucked the little mouse stupid? No words left to taunt me now, huh?" You moaned softly, your mouth almost stuck in the shape of an 'O'. "Maybe I should do this more often, keep you quiet for longer." You nodded your head, head too foggy to come up with another smart-ass response.
Your second and third orgasms crashed over you in quick succession - Nikolai clamped his hand over your mouth as you screamed 'Nikolai' over and over again. He promised that next time he'd fuck that name out of your brain, before pulling out and cumming all over your chest.
You lay on his bed - dazed from the intense fucking you just received. You were surprised to find yourself alone in Nikolai's bed - he'd disappeared moments after cumming. He'd said something but you were still coming down from your last high when he moved away. You began to spiral. Of course, he was only fucking you to teach you a lesson - why else would he be interested in you? You idiot! He's the prince of fucking Ravka and the Captain of this ship. What do you have that would interest him, apart from your bratty mouth and attitude? He said it himself - the attitude pissed him off.
You were startled when something cold made contact with your chest. You looked up to find Nikolai with something in his hand - a wet washcloth, maybe? - and a sheepish grin on his face. He was still naked, his hair still tousled and his face still flushed. An involuntary beam broke out across your face. He didn't leave you after all.
Nikolai was taken by surprise at the tears that gathered on your lash line. He pulled you up into his chest when you were clean, sitting on the edge of his bed with you held tightly in his arms.
"Hey, hey, hey." He said, drawing mindless shapes on your back as tears streamed down your face, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He was confused - surely, if he hurt you, you wouldn't be seeking comfort in him.
His heart slowed slightly when you shook your head, but the confusion remained.
"Talk to me, Mouse. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"
"It's stupid."
"It's not. If it matters to you, then it matters to me. Tell me, whatever it is, I'll fix it." Another wave of emotion washed over you. You climbed into his lap and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.
"I thought you were mad." You whispered quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear you and that he would let it go.
"Why would I be mad?"
"You left." You shrugged, "You left and I thought you were gone for good." He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled your head into his chest.
"Oh, Mouse. For all your genius, you are oblivious." You looked up at him, confused. "I love you, Mouse. I always have." You shook your head, "What?"
"You're just saying that." You said, tears filling your lash line again as you tried to pull away, "You're just saying that 'cause you fucked me and you don't want me to leave." You tried to move out of his arms but he held you firmly. You hit his chest, trying to force yourself off him, but he stood his ground. Eventually, you just melted into his arms - he held you as you cried, hands stroking your hair soothingly.
You calmed down slowly, chest heaving as you tried to replenish your lungs. You stayed relaxed in his arms. He laid his head on top of yours. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"
You shook your head.
"Do you trust me?"
You nodded your head.
"Do you trust me enough to believe me when I say I love you?"
You hesitated.
"Well, we've found our problem."
"You don't love me."
"How do you know? You been inside my head? Pretty sure even Grisha can't do that." You chuckled.
"You hate me. You can't even look at me - let alone talk to me for long enough to fall in love with me."
"I can't look at you because if I start looking I'll never look away. I can't talk to you because I look like a fool every time I try and string two words together in front of you. Ask Tolya - he'll tell you how hopelessly in love with you I am. And for someone who's not interested in romance, he's a fucking hopeless romantic." His words involuntarily brought a smile onto your face.
You looked into his eyes, "You're sure you love me?"
"Honey, you drive me wild."
You nestled into his arms, and he leaned you both back onto the bed. Your head hit his pillow and suddenly you're surrounded by him. His arms wrap around you tightly, his pillow smells like him, his face is right next to yours. It's nice. Comforting.
You looked up into his face, studying his features while he slept. He was pretty - objectively. His face was long - pointy. Someone had done a terrible job of fixing his broken nose - but it seemed off at a second glance. He seemed so different than the paintings in the gallery - more difference than age alone could bring. His eyes were the giveaway - they were muddy green at first glance but under the right light and if you stared long enough, they were the same hazel green as the ones in the painting. You reached up to stroke his face. How long would this all last? How long until he wouldn't be able to play pretend anymore? How long until he had to go back to being Prince Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka? How long did you have with him in this beautiful bubble that you had created? You could already hear the rest of the crew filtering in from their nights out.
A hand came up to wrap around yours, "Sleep, Mouse. I'll still be here in the morning."
You smiled. He'd still be here in the morning.
fin.
buy me a coffee
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justalonelyslytherin · 11 months
Text
Happy Father's Day - Lloyd Hansen
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Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x female Reader
Warnings: cursing, violence, gun handling and shooting, death, blood, insinuation/mention of hurting and/or killing a child
Wordcount: 3.9k
If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don’t allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don’t steal my work.
A/N: Another one of the longer ones in this series. Writing Lloyd was so much fun. And I really enjoyed this scenario and the open end, if Reader and Lloyd will get along or not. Part of the ‘Happy Father’s Day’ series. Dividers by the fantastic @/firefly-graphics
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Footsteps echoed through the empty hall, drawing nearer until the door swung open. A figure walked into the office.
“You are late.” 
Carmichael, who had been sitting in his chair and watching the arriving car through the dimmed window, turned around.
“Yeah well, I didn’t want to be here.”
“It’ll be worth your expenditure.”
“You better be paying me good for this. Summoning me here, you are becoming flamboyant. I could be otherwise entertained.”
“As always. You should know better of me.” Carmichael pursed his lips, glancing at the other man over his glasses. “This one is a special mission.”
“Are you finally getting rid of Susan, that frigid bitch?”
“No. But similar. I wanted to see your reaction myself.”
“And once you're finished we’ll have a drink together. Like the good old times.”
Lloyd raised an eyebrow as Carmichael opened a drawer. Withdrawing the file in an exaggerated motion, he held it in the air. It was inconspicuous. Like any other file the CIA used on their targets.
With a heavy thud it landed on the dark wooden desk, the noise reverberated through the dim office. Licking his lips and cocking his hip out, Lloyd took a lazy step forward. He swiped the file up in one smooth motion. Opening it, he was greeted with a picture. 
Lloyd’s grip tightened around the file, the etches crinkling. His jaw ticked, square, and ready to snap as he eyed the contents.
“Her?” He asked after a tense, long silence. 
“Her,” Carmichael confirmed. He leaned forward in his seat, elbows placed on the edge of the desk, “I want her disposed of.”
“Any particular reason?” Lloyd lilted lazily, eyes dragging over the file towards the other man. He didn’t need to read the print, he had committed it to memory a long time ago.
“None that should matter to you. I thought you might like to do it yourself. Since you two have…history.”
Huffing he let the file drop onto the desk, the smack reverberated through the office. A devilish, hungry grin spread over Lloyd’s lips. 
“It’ll be my pleasure.”
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Today had felt like an ordinary day to her, but if she knew one thing it was that there were no ordinary days. 
There were quiet days and then there were hectic days. There were days when everything went according to plan and days when everything went wrong. There were days in which she’d been safe and days in which she’d nearly died.
The latter ones were now few and far between. Once it was her day-to-day, her nine-to-five. It was behind her now for most of it.
But as a seasoned agent, she should have known nothing ever truly stayed gone and that especially as someone in the intelligence industry there was no such simple thing as retirement. 
Dying was your retirement.
The house was quiet when she arrived home. Something wasn’t right. It felt deadly quiet, not even the usual noise from the neighbors or cars passing over the street was there. It was too quiet. 
Her days in the field might have laid behind her but her instincts were still as sharp. And so was her habit of still carrying a weapon with her at all times. As silently as she could, she put her purse beside the front door, moving slowly and carefully. Squatting, she drew her gun from inside the bag.
The entryway was clear and so was the office she never used. When she walked through the living room, clearing it as well, gaze moving into the adjacent, open kitchen she froze. Halfway hidden behind the kitchen counter lay a body on the floor. Rosa. Her household help. Face down, in a puddle of her own blood, unmoving. 
Rushing over, there was nothing she still could have done for the nice lady she’d become friends with. She wasn’t long dead, body and blood felt warm.
Then she heard it. A creek. Snapping her head towards the ceiling she listened. When another creek sounded, she bounded to the stairs. Taking two steps at a time she rushed up. 
On the second level, she ignored most of the doors, bypassing clearing each room in favor of getting to the most important of it all. At the far end of the hallway was a cream-colored door, opened just a slit. A soft melody played, faintly echoing through the hallway. She’d closed that door just before she left the house.
The door swung open, barely stopping before it hit the wall as she barged in, gun drawn high. She pointed the barrel at the figure standing on the other side of the room, looming above a baby bed.
“Hands up where I can see them and step the fuck away from the cradle!” Her voice was firm but there was the hint of a shake looming close. 
The figure stayed relaxed, slowly raising his hands. There was a big gun in his right hand, making her grit her teeth as her heart dropped. Hopefully, she wasn’t too late already. Please, don’t let her be too late. Her grip around her gun tightened as the person turned around. 
Shock coursed through her, almost making her forget what was going on. Almost.
“Lloyd.” 
He grinned at her, “Hello Sunshine.”
The pet name rolled off his tongue so smoothly as if not a single day had gone by. It didn’t trick her, it was a farce and so she kept her guard up and the gun centered on his chest. Not that Lloyd could have cared for any of it. That grin, that split his lips and pulled at his mustache mocked her together with the glint in his eyes. The amusement was highly evident on his face.
“You sneaky little thing, aren’t you?” He made a show of trailing his gaze through the room before he continued, “A safe house – that’s not so safe anymore – and a baby?” 
His laugh made her skin crawl. 
“I didn’t peg you for the chick that would let herself get stuck with a brat,” he taunted and she rolled her eyes. “Although I would have enjoyed being the one to fuck one into you.”
“Step away from her,” she demanded, unreactive to his jabs. He wanted to provoke her but she wouldn’t grant him that pleasure. 
Lloyd looked behind him toward the crib in which her baby was peacefully sleeping. “And what if I don’t? You shoot me? Shoot in the direction of your darling?” Her eyes flickered to the crib behind him, just for a moment. Enough to confirm he was right. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.
“As I thought,” he hummed, slowly putting his hands down. 
She’d just lost her advantage, her threat. The gun in her hands was useless if she couldn’t – wouldn’t – use it to actually shoot him. It was just a show and he could do and please how he wanted without her being able to prevent it.
“I have to give you that: She is cute as a bug.” Her heart nearly gave out as Lloyd turned around again and leaned over the crib. He was reaching down, his fingers running over the baby's smooth dark hair and soft cheek. As his pinky ring graced her cheek, the cold sensation of the metal on her skin made her frown. It caused his lip to quip upward. 
With his other hand – the one holding the large gun – he leaned down too. The nose of the gun softly traced along her little tummy. 
It made her breath hitch, instinctively she took a step forward. A mistake as Lloyd’s head cocked back at her. There was enjoyment glinting in his eyes. He loved games like this, toying with people’s emotions, but most of all with their fear.
“Oh look at you, all momma-bear. Am I driving you crazy with concern huh?” He was having the time of his life.
“What will you do?” he wanted to know, taunting once more, “I could shoot her right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” 
He was right. She wouldn’t be able to cross the room fast enough to prevent him from pulling the trigger or ripping the gun up and away from her child.
“Step away from her,” she demanded, voice shaking with equal amounts of rage and concern. It was an empty demand. What threat did she have against him? What options to stop him? Her words made him laugh.
“Give me one good reason why I should do that instead of pulling my trigger right now?”
“Because she is yours.”
Lloyd raised an eyebrow, beneath his long lashes his eyes dilated in surprise but also in glee. Once more he started laughing. A full belly laugh this time. So much he had to wipe away tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.
“That’s a good one, sunshine.” But she stayed unwaveringly serious. Lloyd eyed that as well. Straightening up he took in the sleeping baby closely.
“Oh, are you serious?” The amusement was still there but now there was a hint of seriousness in his tone as well. 
“Her?” He pointed towards the cradle. “Mine?”
Reluctantly she nodded. There was a brief moment in which Lloyd turned solemnly serious, a moment in which he seemed to contemplate it all. Then his face twisted in rage. In a split second, he lunged at her.
She was slammed to the floor, him above her as her gun skidded over the ground, out of her reach. His hands wrapped around her throat, strong hands unrelenting. The air was pushed out of her lungs as he choked her. Wrapping her hands around his forearms, she tried to stop him but there was no point. He was too strong.
“You little bitch.” Lloyd was seething. Spitting as he looked at her like an animal gone wild. “You are enjoying this aren’t you?”
“Greedy little slut, took everything you could get your hands on, didn’t you? Even a baby!” Her mind was reeling, both from the lack of oxygen and his words. They didn’t make sense. She hadn’t taken anything from him. It wasn’t like she had tried to get him to knock her up and then vanish.
Even with the blood rushing in her ears and the black rims growing at the edges of her vision she couldn’t get his hands off her. But maybe getting his hands off her neck wasn’t what she should focus on. With what quickly draining strength she had still left in her, she started squirming under him. 
She couldn’t die right now. Not like this. There was no way in hell she would leave her daughter to Lloyd’s mercy. 
“You are a twisted, backstabbing–” Mustering enough strength she managed to kick him in the balls, hard enough to sway him for a moment. It was only a short moment but it was enough to kick him off her and send him to the side.
She coughed and wheezed, greedily sucking in as much air as she could. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him sit up, brushing a hand over his mouth. It came away with a streak of blood.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” She wheezed, turning to her side, all the while her eyes roamed through the room, looking for her gun. 
“You were the reason the CIA kicked me out! Not that I would have enjoyed being in that constringent shithole with their stupid rules. I’m much freer where I am now but that doesn’t change the fact you betrayed me!” 
What?
“I didn’t!” She watched him try to stand up and so she swiped her leg out, ripping his feet out from underneath him. He smacked against the floor as she continued, “I didn’t even know you were kicked out! No one would tell me anything about what happened. You were simply gone!”
“Liar,” he roared, looking at her with rage. Seeing his rage was nothing new, but this was the first time it was focused on her.
“I thought you were dead!”, she roared back, “It took me weeks with no success until I found out– … until I found out I was pregnant. Only when I went to Fitzroy did he tell me you got kicked out.”
“Bullshit! Someone ratted me out! Who was it then?”
“Who? I'll tell you who! Your buddy, fucking, Carmichael!” 
There was a fire burning in Lloyds eyes and with newfound vigor, he pushed to his feet. Scrambling, she looked around the room, frantically trying to find her gun. She needed to reach her gun before Lloyd could reach his. 
“He never liked me, Lloyd. He always hated that I was by your side. That ass was always jealous of what we – you – had since college! He couldn’t stand that I was taking you away from him, don’t you understand?!” 
Lloyd had never seen the clear disdain with which Carmichael had regarded her. The poorly hidden hatred and animosity.
She’d stalled him long enough to locate her gun in the room, just as Lloyd had risen to his feet and centered his attention on his gun – much closer than hers. Their eyes crossed as a mutual realization set in. They had the same plan and they both needed to stop the other. There was a second in which neither one of them moved. Then, jumping around she scrambled for her gun. Nearly there, only millimeters from grasping it in her hand, her fingers brushing the cool plastic, a hand wrapped around her ankle. With a violent jerk, she was yanked back. Not without a fight. Her kicking was fruitless, Lloyd’s hand stayed around her foot like a vice. It was to no avail.
He was pulling her back until she lay under him and Lloyd pinned her to the ground with his knees and hands. His gun was pointed at her. The click of the bullet slipping into the barrel had her deflate. 
All the fight rapidly left as she realized: she’d lost.
“Don’t kill her,” she whispered, eyes dimmed in grief. She pleaded with him, “Don’t punish her for what you believe me to have done.” In a violent lurch her face whipped to the side, the sound of his backhanded slap echoing in her ears. The metallic taste of blood spread in her mouth. 
It didn’t stop her from continuing, “Look after her.
At least find her a safe place with a new family if you don’t want her.”
This raging fire kept burning in his eyes as Lloyd centered the barrel of his gun to her forehead. Cold metal touched her skin, creating a burning halo. She wouldn’t close her eyes. No, she chose to keep looking into his, waiting for her inevitable end.
When the trigger got pulled, the shot rang out loudly above her but the bullet never hit. 
No longer was the gun pointed at her but at the door, she’d burst through not long ago. Ripping her eyes away from the gun, she focused back on Lloyd. He was already looking down at her, his jaw clenched and lips pursed.
Behind them – in the cradle – their baby started to wail.
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In his hands, Carmichael held a couple of pictures. A drone shot from a burned-down house. Multiple from the burned-down interior of said house. And one of a corpse burned so badly she was unrecognizable.
The door to his office opened up without premonition.
“Well done.” Putting the pictures down the man with the glasses looked up.
“How did it feel?” “Satisfying,” Lloyd mused, hands loosely clasped behind his back as he whipped on his feet. 
“So the bitch got what she deserved.” Carmichael looked pleased, a sly grin formed on his usually composed and unhappy-looking face. “You know I never trusted her. Always knew there was something off with her.”
“She was a rotten apple from the beginning.” “Was she?” Lloyd asked with ease. “Why’d you never say something then?”
“I wanted you to have your fun with her. I thought that’s all she was to you anyway.” 
Nodding Lloyd hummed, “She was a pretty good fuck.” 
In the end, Carmichael stood up, walking towards a sideboard with glasses and a bottle of expensive alcohol. “Let’s drink to that.” He poured some into the two glasses, the trickle of the liquid sloshing the only sound.
“A toast,” he said, turning around with the two glasses in his hand. One held out towards Lloyd, the other comfortably nestled in his own. “To the two of us. That no woman will ever be worthy to come between us.” 
Lloyd was now directly in front of him. Before he could register the thing shoved against his chest, the muffled sound of a shot rang out. The glasses toppled from his hands, their golden liquid soaked the carpet beneath his feet. He could only glance at the gun between them in shock. The gun Lloyd had aimed and fired at his chest. 
“The bitch is indeed getting what he deserves.”
Lloyd’s mustache quirked up, revealing the grin on his lips as Carmichael stumbled and slid down the sideboard. Sitting before him, the man's blood mixed with the carpet.
“You should have never come between me and her.” It was the last thing Lloyd whispered, watching as the light left the man's eyes.
Picking up one of the two glasses, Lloyd eyed the remains of the liquid in the crystal clear cup. He downed it in one swift gulp. 
“Happy Father’s Day to me.”
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Outside the office, Carmichael’s men lay slumped over. Dead too. Lloyd stepped over them, wasting no glance back as he walked on. 
Behind the corner at the end of the hallway, a figure awaited. Fitzroy. The older man had his hands shoved into his pockets as he watched him approach. Both men looked at one another, unable to stand their opposite but still working together. An Exception.
“You better treat her right,” Fitzroy was serious, looking down on him with disdain. “Or I’ll come to get her and my granddaughter and you’ll be dead.”
The words didn’t impress Lloyd. It was a real threat. Fitzroy still had his trumps and his ways to win over Lloyd. 
Yet he calmly and dryly answered, “She isn’t your granddaughter.”
“No, but she is as good as.
I was the only one there for them, during the pregnancy and when she gave birth to that sweet little angel.”
It was a carefully calculated attack, the words meant to cut deep. Lloyd didn’t say anything to that. He walked past the man without another word. Outside a car waited for him already, driving away the moment he sat inside.
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High-pitched coos and unintelligible babbling littered the air as she held her daughter in her arms softly swaying her from side to side. Her heart fluttered as she took in the chubby cheeks and long lashes. 
“We still have to get used to our new home, don’t we?” She mumbled against the soft tuft of hair dusted along her daughter’s head. Her little head couldn’t stop turning around, not nearly fast enough to follow her curious eyes. 
“It’s so big.” Her little one cooed in agreement, even though she likely couldn’t understand her yet. Taking in the huge room they were in, big still felt like an understatement. The improvised baby room looked anything but suited for a baby. The luxurious theme felt overpowering, just like the rest of the castle did. Adjusting from a comfortable little two-story house to a castle with rooms in the hundreds would take time.
“Who would have thought your dad would show up to join your life.”
There was still a part of her that didn’t want to believe it and a part of her that mistrusted Lloyd. Her lip and back still ached from the fight, the memories of him pointing his gun not only at her but at the baby and threatening to shoot fresh in her mind. Too fresh perhaps.
Lloyd had changed from wanting to kill her to wanting to protect her and their daughter in less than a minute. A split-second decision that otherwise would have found her with a bullet in the head and her daughter orphaned.
A noise from the outside alerted her. It drew her to the big window so they could watch what was happening outside. Together they eyed the black SUV drive over the gravel of the huge driveway, fast approaching the house. When the car stopped just before the entrance and Lloyd stepped out of the car, she sighed.
“Speaking of the devil,” muttering to her daughter, she pressed a kiss against her head. The baby coed once more and babbled happily in her arms. Clumsy little fingers gripped her sleeve.
“Sunshine! I’m back!”
Not a moment later Lloyd’s loud voice boomed through the house. One might think that with its size his voice would get drowned out. It didn’t take him long to reach the room and push the door open. Once his eyes settled on the two of them, still close to the window a grin appeared on his face.
“There they are!” Striding over he stopped shortly in front of them as his eyes settled on the toddler. 
“Bug.” She rolled her eyes at his newly proclaimed nickname for his daughter. Her eyes followed his hands, reaching out and demanding to hold the baby. For a moment she hesitated to pass her over. Lloyd’s eyes jumped to her, narrowing slightly but ultimately he dropped his hands to his side.
Not for long. Just as quickly as he had folded his hands found her waist. Rather forcefully she was turned around, gazing back out of the window.
“You’ll start to trust me again.” His voice murmured into her ear as Lloyd settled behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist. Her back was pressed against his front. Resting his chin against her shoulder, he nosed along her neck, whispering more words into her ear.
“And maybe by the next Father’s Day, I’ve fucked another one into you already.”
She scoffed, lips twitching upward in a smile as she glanced back at him, “In your dreams. How about you learn to handle your existing daughter first. She’s already got your temper when she is tired and cranky, by that time next year she’ll likely have reached the terrible twos.”
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BONUS:
“If I find out you lied to me,” Lloyd threatened as he stood up, still looking down at her. He nodded towards his gun.
“Why would I?” Scoffing, she too slowly sat up and wiped away the blood from her mouth. “I would have never betrayed you, I loved you.”
Something in the way he laughed so dryly deeply hurt her. Her eyes were turned downwards as she got up. When she stood in front of him, face to face, her expression remained unchanged and just as solemn.
“You are serious?”
“Is it so hard to believe? My future was yours.”
She was about to breeze past him and towards the cradle, towards her crying daughter when he stopped her. His hand wrapped around her biceps.
“Looks like you are getting what you wanted in the end,” he rumbled into her ear. Then he dropped his hand. “Calm her down, take whatever you need for her, and be done with it in five minutes.” 
He didn’t leave the room while she did so, hovering beside the door with his arms crossed, holding onto the gun as he watched.
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
Text
𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒎𝒂𝒔
🎄christmas masterlist🎄
warning - smut, oral sex, slight somno, illusions to him coming back and having his way with the reader, human reader, the grinch male, stalker behaviour, slightly creepy.
18+ only please, the gif and header aren't mine, title credit goes to @lokiandbuckysdoll
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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Bucky crept and sneaked, tip-toeing through your house with a dark grin. Every bit of information he’s collected has been worth the stalking, and Bucky can almost feel his heart grow three sizes at the thought of rubbing this in his nemesis’s face.
For weeks, Bucky has watched Santa and his elves. Seeing that he failed to steal Christmas, Bucky wanted to see if there was another thing that was dear to them that he could steal. Lo and behold… The Grinch hit the jackpot. You were such a beautiful being, and he couldn’t blame the others for losing control. Bucky was surprised Ari was able to hold himself back.
The darkest of smirks made its way onto Bucky’s face as he thought of tasting you before Ari did. He can see the steam leaving his ears from how angry he’ll become. The thought sends shivers down Bucky’s spine. His dark chuckle fills your quiet home. 
“You’re a mean one, Mr Grinch.” Bucky eerily sings as he walks through your lounge room, destroying the Christmas decorations and chuckling as he tears your Christmas tree apart.
“You’re a monster, Mr Grinch.” Bucky’s unnaturally bluish-yellow eyes snap over to the hallway, grinning evilly as he hears a noise. He creeps and stalks, and the light from the moon reflects his metal arm.
“You’re a vile one, Mr Grinch.” He taps his hand eerily against the wall as he walks through the dark hallway. Bucky grins when he comes across your closed bedroom door, and chills run through his body at the thought of being so close to you.
“You’re a foul one, Mr Grinch.” Bucky slowly opens the door, creeps inside the room, and sneaks closer to your unconscious form. Licking his pink lips as he takes in the tiny silky green nightie, Bucky smiles, and a whisper of his voice fills the air. “It’s like you know I was coming, you naughty girl.” His hand slowly moves up your bare leg to your inner thigh.
“You’re a rotter, Mr Grinch.” He slowly crawls onto the bed, and between your spread legs, a groan falls from his lips when his eyes land on your glistening cunt. Bucky moves closer, hooking his arms under your thighs and pulls you toward him. The Grinch’s eyes flutter when your sweet scent enters his senses, his mouth salivating as he nudges your pretty little pussy with his nose. 
Bucky swipes his tongue across your folds slowly. A low groan left his lips at your taste before his tongue began to lap against your cunt. His resolve was slipping fast and being replaced by his animalistic nature. Bucky’s beard roughly rubs against your flesh as he buries his face deep into you, devouring your sweet nectar like it’s his last meal.
“Mmm, you taste as naughty as you seem.” He grunts, diving back into your soaking cunt while his bluish-yellow eyes stare at your sleeping face. Watching your cute little nose scrunch up and your brows furrow, soft sleepy moans fall from your lips. Bucky grinds his hardened cock into the bed, his groans vibrating your swollen button. 
You slowly wake from your pleasant dream, a sharp moan escapes you, and the feeling of someone between your legs causes you to look down. Your eyes widen when they connect with an unknown man’s, your back arches and your head is thrown back as he takes your swollen clit between his lips and sucks. 
Bucky’s hips rub faster against your bed, feeling his end approaching but refusing to release until he’s tasted every last bit of you. Holding you closer to his mouth, he starts to feast faster. His mouth and tongue are doing wonders to your sweet honey pot, and the sounds that escape you are like music to his ears. With one final lick, your juices squirt out of you and cover Bucky. His eyes roll to the back of his head as his cum spurts out of his thick tip and into his pants. 
Standing, Bucky licks up the mess you’ve made and looks at you with a smirk. “Say hello to the big guy for me, you little slut.” With a wink, he disappears into thin air. You lay there with wide eyes as his dark chuckle fills the room, hand slowly moving down your body and between your legs. Your eyes slowly close, a soft moan escaping you as you press down onto your clit. You can still feel his tongue against your lips and beard against your flesh. 
You slowly begin to fall back to sleep, dreaming of the monstrous man from before pounding into your tight little cunt. Maybe they weren’t dreams at all. Perhaps… he came back for more. But that’s your secret to keep.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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x-noechi-x · 1 year
Text
Sukuna x female reader NSFW
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Pairing: Sukuna x married female reader
Warnings: Cheating! NSFW! Both Sukuna and reader make porn content
Noechi´s note: THIS IS INSPIRED BY SOMETHING!!! NOT 100 percent my work.
"Kana-san NTR" is the original manga. This is just inspired by it
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You never thought that you would ever be touched by a man ever again. And that was okay. You didn’t feel the need to feel “pleasure”. Or at least the pleasure that you knew. It wasn’t worth fighting. It wasn’t worth confronting your husband.
Oh, yes. Your husband. A cheating piece of shit. Cheating on you with a co-worker because you weren’t sexy enough for him. Because you were quiet when you slept with him. He gave it up years ago to make you feel good and decided to go for younger girls in his office. Really disgusting.
So why did you stay with this man? Your parents had chosen him as they did with the rest of your life. They told you that you should be grateful that you got to marry a rich man. You didn’t contact your parents ever since the marriage. But you couldn’t just run away. You had no money and no idea where to go.
For now, there was one thing that was kind of fun. The feeling of getting likes and appreciation through naughty pictures you took of yourself. You blurred out your face and your nipples if you showed them. Sometimes you posted about how your husband was cheating and how you didn’t think you would be touched by a man ever again.
But today was different. As soon as you posted the picture you got a few likes. You were confused why that was until you saw that someone reposted your pictures. When you went on the account you were met with a video of two people fucking.
Something about the way the woman moaned in ecstasy and how the man was thrusting into her did something to you as your body grew hotter. “Ryomen”. That was the username of the man. He wore a black mask to hide his face. But somehow you thought that you had seen him before. How weird.
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After this you continued with your normal life, not thinking about the video again. You felt embarrassed but pushed it down. You weren’t interested in sexual contact anyway, right? Your attention was taken from you when you heard a ring at your doorbell. When you opened the door, a woman in her mid-twenties came rushing towards you, shaking you.
You couldn’t properly hear what she was saying. Just something about “Where is he?” “To believe that he would fuck anyone else besides me”. The woman stopped shaking you suddenly when you saw your neighbor in front of your door. “You got the wrong apartment”, he said to the woman, making her embarrassed.
“I´m sorry about that”, he said with a chuckle. Sukuna. That was his name. He never really introduced himself, but he was known around the neighborhood. “It´s fine”, you answered as you fixed your shirt. What you didn’t notice was that he saw your mole/tattoo on your shoulder. You just heard him mutter “for real?” with an amused expression but didn’t think much of it.
After that, the two of them left and you continued with your day. Two hours later Sukuna came back with some cake as an apology. “I hope you and your husband enjoy it. I´m sorry what happened earlier”.
“It´s fine. And I´ll probably eat this alone because my husband doesn’t come home until late at night”, you chuckled, not knowing why you told him that, but you just did. “Then may I come in and eat the cake with you? I´m quite fond of sweet things”, he chuckled.
That’s how you ended up eating the cake together. The whole time you couldn’t help but think that he looked familiar. But why was that? You were caught off guard when he sat down next to you. “You´re “Y/n”-san, right?”. Your eyes widened when he mentioned your username. How did he know? He chuckled at your reaction before reaching for his phone. “I have an account as well. Didn’t you see that I followed you?”, he asked as he leaned closer.
“You said that you would never be touched by another man again? Because your husband is cheating on you?”, he muttered those things in your ear. Right…All the things that you said on your account.
“Your husband is trash, isn’t he?”, Sukuna asked before connecting his lips with yours. You were too shocked to even react when his tongue explored your mouth. His hands moved to your waist first before his fingers moved under your shirt. His cold fingertips made you tremble. But why? Why did you feel this way? You shouldn’t, right?
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You didn’t know how you ended up like that. Your mind was blank as you felt Sukuna´s cock enter you. It was the first time you had ever felt such pleasure. You hadn’t felt that much pleasure ever.
“I´m not even completely in and you´re already clenching like crazy? Your husband is truly trash. Let me make you feel good and show you what you missed”, he whispered before thrusting into you completely.
You were panting and moaning, not knowing what this way. You didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want him to stop making you feel good. How did he make you feel so good?
“Fuck. You´re so tight and your husband doesn’t use this pussy every day? What a waste”, Sukuna said before groaning when you clenched around him. You were so tight and wet. Almost like a virgin.
“You´re about to cum, right? Cum around my cock”, he said as he fastened his pace. All the air you had in your lungs felt like it was knocked out. You were a moaning mess as your fingernails scratched his back. “P-Please”, you moaned before you came.
Sukuna came as well, pulling out of you with a smirk. “I have an offer “Y/n”-san. How about we work together from now on? Fans would love our content. Your moans are just so addicting. What do you say?”
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There will be more parts
Tag: @oo-mi-ru-oo
@Noechi2023 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 凸( •̀_•́ )凸
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inklore · 2 years
Text
torn together.
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premise: you both knew that once you crossed that line, stepped back into the past, let old feelings and wounds reopen, that it would be even harder to let it go again.
pairing: marc spector x (f)reader
word count: 11.4k
warnings: minors dni please, f and m receiving oral, unprotected sex, angst, reader was a mercenary like marc, they are past lovers/fwbs, arguments, love bombs, mentions of past injuries (stabbing, scars), small talks of self hatred, marc being a bit soft at the end, no spoilers but cairo is mentioned as well as reader knowing about the suit.
etc: the plot in the beginning goes by a bit faster so it’s more angst and smut than anything. y’all are going to be shocked to see that i didn’t just blaze through the smut and i actually took it slow, insane i know lmao.
i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!
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When you open your apartment door he is the last person you expect to see on the other side. You hadn’t expected to see him ever again if you were being honest with yourself, but definitely not looking deflated and staring back at you from the other side of the threshold. Nor did you expect your body's reaction to seeing him; to have his gaze on yours, the brown irises darker than you remember, the hard set of his jaw, the low set of his brows. The last time you had seen those unmistakable rugged features they had been pressed into different parts of your skin.
They had made your stomach sink and your blood boil when the aftermath of it all rained down on you and you were left alone, stranded, the only remnants of the night spent together scrawled on a piece of paper to let you know he was gone; that you wouldn't see him again. There had been anger, sadness, regret, torture. But Marc Spector wasn’t a man you chased—or found when he didn't want to be.
And running after someone who so clearly did not wish to be around you was not someone worth wearing down your heels until they were bloody and aching for. Even if your heart longed to pick up the phone and try one of his old numbers, to trace his tracks and hunt him down and scream at him while tears streamed down your face. The sensible part of your brain knew that the two of you had played that game long enough.
Moving on wasn’t that hard for you to do. You had followed the instruction his sloppy handwriting had scrolled on the thin sheet of paper; ‘go’. One word. The final word he’d ever share with you, say to you. A bundle of cash sat next to it. And so you did, you left without looking back. Left a life you thought the two of you were rebuilding, but were really just dismantling until one wrong move was made, or word was spoken. With anger and heartbreak pumping through your veins you got on a plane and said goodbye to whatever had happened between the two of you. Started a new life in a new country, and tried not to think about the past.
And now that the past was looking back at you, you expected to feel that same anger directed at him. Something boiling in your blood to the point of bursting, tears, screams; not your stomach sinking to the point of your knuckles aching from how tight you're gripping the door handle. Or the way your chest feels like it's going to concave in on itself.
But you knew if he was here it was not to dredge up the past, what had happened between the two of you-more than once; the feelings shadowed over by illegal activities and nights in hotel beds that still left you hot and aching to think about. Marc Spector did not do grand gestures of feeling so this was far from that. Which could only mean one other thing.
“You must truly be desperate if you’ve hunted me down.” You swallow down the intrusive feelings wading throughout you, masking it with a smirk on your face and leaning against the doorframe, your arms crossed against your chest. “What you could possibly need from little ol’ me?”
Your teasing gets you the lowest of chuckles and barley a smile—on some—but good enough on Marc. “Maybe I wanted to visit an old friend.”
A laugh bursts from you, “Marc Spector ever the sentimental type, turned over a new leaf have you?”
“I could have.” He lets a real smile show.
“Mm.” You nod, “then please don’t hold it against me if I don’t believe a word you say.”
“Would never dream of it.”
Your smiles stay longer than anyone who knew the two of you would expect, a silence falling amongst you as if the reality of him actually being here, in front of you again, is just now settling into the air and making your physical reaction to it all the worse.
“Why are you really here, Marc?”
He waits a second—a minute—before answering you, before tearing his eyes from yours. He pulls out his phone, his fingers moving across the screen as he looks for something, holding the device in your face once he has, “I need you to help me find this.”
You take the phone from him, ignoring the way a warmth hits you when your fingers brush against each other. Your eyes taking in the picture of the ancient relic on the screen, “Can I ask-”
“No.”
“Of course,” you give him a pressed smile, handing the phone back without taking another glance. “Really turning over that leaf, huh?”
Your tone is anything but teasing, it’s more aggravation and that same nipping irritation that you are now remembering came with this man; along with the immense secrecy, the half truths, the hidden agendas and the real reason on matters always skated over by him or labeled as ‘it was best you didn’t know’. But unfortunately for you—and Marc—the less you knew was not the better, it only made the feelings you harbored for this man harder, more achingly tragic, and your resolve to help him blindly run thin.
“I can’t-”
“Can't or you wont?”
“Both.”
You nod, laugh under your breath as you step from the door frame grabbing the handle of your door ready to shut him out. “I've also turned over a new leaf. Unlucky for you that means I don't do favors for people anymore, especially when they won't tell me exactly what laws I’m going to be breaking for them, and why.” Your door creaks as you start to close it, “better go find one of your other…” your mind goes blank, what were you to Marc? A friend? A work partner? An acquaintance he rarely shared information with but would share mixed breaths and kisses with?
“Please,” his hand comes up to grip the door, halting your actions. His tone holding a hint of pleading softness to it. And you’d be damned if it didn’t still make your resolve want to split in two for him. “I came to you because I know I can trust you.”
There’s warmth in your chest from his words, and it has you opening your door wider, has you taking in the plea in his eyes that completely consumes your nerves into something dangerous, something too familiar for your liking. Saying no would be so simple. Slamming the door and continuing to move on with your life, let the three years that have gone by without seeing him stay that way. But saying yes makes your entire being light up, makes your breath become shallow, your heart clench.
There was once a time in your life where you thought Marc actually needed you, and not just as the sidekick who helped him steal relics and get illegal dirt on people. You thought that every night spent pressed to each other in bed had meant something to him, that the two of you were on the same wavelength of it possibly being more than it was, love? Maybe. Or maybe something more realistic than that: devotion, trust, understanding.
And then he left and you don’t think you’ve ever woken up so cold and alone in your whole life. So desolate inside. It had taken him three years to tell you that he trusted you, and that was after he had left you stranded in Cairo. After he had ripped your heart from your chest—unknowingly or not.
You were not dimwitted enough to think that there was any new leaf he had turned over or that this was anything more than him trusting you enough to give him a location, a name, a time, and then he would be out of the door, and your life, for another three years. Or until he needed something else from you.
Information. That's all he needed from you. That's the only reason he was here. Information and trust, that shouldn’t be enough. Not for the pain you had felt, and continue to feel every time you think about him. You should shut the door in his face and tell him to stick his foreign find, and trust, up his ass.
But instead you’re opening the door for him to come in.
“Thank you.”
“I’m only doing this for my own natural curiosity for the illegal, not you.” You shoot him a look, “don’t be so full of yourself.” You don’t miss the small smirk on his face as you make your way into the kitchen, grabbing your laptop from your desk in the den on the way through.
The two of you sit side by side at your small island—that doubles as your table in the small space—Marc giving you all of the information he knows, which is not much, as you grab sheets of paper from the stack of books piled on one of your counters; a fond twitch at the corner of Marc’s lips as he watches you jot down and compile all of the information given. A familiar prickling feeling presenting itself on your skin at the feel of his eyes on you as you do so, as you switch into work mode, a mode he knew all too well, has watched you through so many different lenses, places. So many times over, always looking at you in the same manner—it usually ended a little differently in the past tense than it was going to now.
If this had been the past tense you would have looked up at him through your lashes, giving him the most impish of smiles. He would make a show of running his fingers along the stubble on his jaw in debation, before reaching out and taking your face in his hands to bring your lips to his; fucking on scattered papers and laptops was not something out of the norm for the two of you. And once the two of you had finished you would go right back to work as if it never happened; except for the sting of pain in your neck that jolted you when Marc would place his palm on the back of it, his thumb skating across a bite mark, a hickey, as he moved you out of the way to reach for something. A teasing grin on his face.
This little reunion was not going to end the same.
You would help him, give him what he needed, and send him on his way.
You would completely disregard the way fingers are brushed between the two of you as you go through books, papers, and moving your laptop around the island. As well as the burning heat that seems to just form naturally when the two of you are this close together, the time and distance doing little to mask the tension that's due to more than just frustration.
You offer Marc a drink and pour small glasses of malt liquor between the two of you, calming your nerves and swallowing down any arise of any other emotion that could cloud your mind from the task at hand.
“And you’re sure you can’t tell me why you need it?” You turn halfway towards him making your knees bump against his as you do so, “it would probably make this a little bit easier, point us in the right direction, feed my peaked curiosity.”
Marc chuckles low under his breath, “the only thing it would do is make this more difficult.”
“Hmm,”
“What?”
“The Marc I knew loved difficult, maybe you have changed.” You pick, turn yourself back towards your laptop, missing the way his face falls after you do. Your fingers type away at the keys, “so, you have three leads, I debunked two. All that leaves is this one.” You stare at the screen, squinting.
“Are you still in contact with that hacker–what was his name?”
You sigh, “yes, but we both know he comes at a price and why spend money when we could just use my skills?”
“Because he’s the better hacker.”
There's a scowl on your brows when you turn to him, “says who?”
“Me.” He deadpans, “I don’t think I need to mention what happened the last time you tried to be the expert hacker you think you are.”
“What happened–the last time, I–” you stop when you see the raise of his eyebrow, the look of cocky correctness written all over his face.
“Exactly.” He pulls the laptop closer to him, “we don’t have time for you to prove something right now.” Your scowl deepens but you don’t say anything, ignore that he is right—telling Marc he is right, verbally, felt more of a loss than it really was for more than one reason.
So you let him take the reins of the laptop, watch his fingers type in the secret codes you had taught him, the codes the two of you had used together more times than you could count. Your eyes running along the small scars and rough edges imprinted on his skin from his life as a mercenary—or rather his continued life as one. The memories of him coming back to you late at night with bloody knuckles or cut skin flashes in your mind, makes your breath stutter for half a second. The black watch he always wore still on his wrist, a small tan line around it.
It feels like nothing has changed. Marc still acts the same, dresses the same, looks the same, smells the same. You have barely changed yourself, had barely put in the effort to change from who you once were. Moving countries away seemed good enough for you.
If you don’t think too hard, if you let yourself slip back into that mindset that was just you and him before everything went to shit; ignoring the heart ache, it’s as if the two of you are back in Cairo, the same as before.
Except the sinking feeling of how things ended, how that last night the two of you were together went, burns any semblance of pretending for you.
It doesn't take long for Marc to make contact with the hacker, wire him the payment for helping, and get the missing piece of information that helps turn the tides in what direction the two of you needed to be looking in for the stolen—and soon to be re-stolen—relic. All the while you jot everything down, pull books off of your many shelves, drink from your glass, and try not to let your gaze drift over to Marc; which seems easier said than actually done.
“Are you still in the business?”
“The business of what exactly?” Your finger is hovered over a highlighted passage in Arabic when you look up at him. He still has the laptop in front of him, a map in hand.
“This business.”
“No,” you shake your head, look back down at the book, “old wounds aren’t meant to be reopened, isn't that what you used to say? I moved on.” You press your lips together in a tight grin, “plus last I knew I was on a few peoples shit list, ya know the I’ll kill you if I ever see you again kind of list.”
Which is another reason why Marc had all but made the decision for you to leave Cairo. To leave him, even after he had already left you.
He doesn't say anything but when you look up at him again his constant scowl has grown deeper, completely taking over his face. Giving him that etch of intimidation and anger that would make most people walk on the other side of the road if they saw him coming. But to you it gave you just the opposite. Knowing Marc for as long as you did and growing to understand his lack of sharing any details of himself—the ones that counted the most to one's heart, that is—you had learned to pick up on hints of emotions, features, mannerisms that meant more than he could say or express.
And while yes, the scowl never seemed to completely ever leave his face, and in most cases it meant he was mad at the world; for some, when he went completely silent and had nothing to say even when he was vexed, it meant he was in deep thought about something. Something someone would normally want to share, to talk about to get off of their chest and clear their mind.
Marc stored all the bad in his head into a little box that was chained ten times over so no one could see it, hear it, learn about it. As if it were better that way for everyone involved. When all it did was make him even more angry, and the people around him ache.
“I thought maybe you would have quit this whole thing. Maybe settle down, find yourself a wife, move to suburbia.” You tease, smiling over at him.
He scoffs, “you know me, always wanted the picket fence and the minivan.”
“You seem like the type to coach little league for sure.”
“Yeah, me and kids, I don’t think that's a good mix.”
“Hmm, I don't know.” You shrug, “maybe if you smiled a little more. Dropped the whole hot brooding man thing. Though it would get the soccer moms going I’m sure.”
“Right, they’d love someone like me.”
He drops the insult to himself as if it were as easy as dishing out a compliment—something else he wasn't too good at. Marc doesn’t seem bothered by it, doesn’t stop him from continuing to shift his eyes from the laptop and the map, as if he never said it at all. And it’s a feeling you knew all too well, a moment you knew all too well because it’s happened before, been spoken by him before. Dropped during arguments or jokes, but to you was not a joke at all.
Marc’s self depreciation rarely came out, and when it did it ate at you until you had to say something—which only made things worse. Where you wanted to discuss more on the matter you were met with frustrated anger and “it doesn't matter”.
But it mattered to you, in more ways than it probably should have.
“You’re not a bad man, Marc.” Your voice is low when you say it, your nose back down in your book. Part of you hoping he didn't hear you, or that maybe that new leaf he proclaims to have turned over has made his conversing on deep things—real things—better.
But it’s wishful thinking and you know better than to wish on Marc Spector.
“We wouldn’t be here if..”
You wait for him to finish, wait for the cruel words to come out but nothing does. There's only silence and the huff of a frustrated breath. He’s scowling at the map when you look over to him, his knuckles gripping the flimsy paper harder than one should—unless you want to rip it to shreds.
“If what?”
His eyes shut for half a second, head shaking, “it doesn't matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“It shouldn't.”
“Well it does. It matters, you-” you swallow, feel your heart rate pick up, “you matter to me.” The proclamation comes out of nowhere and it hits you like a ton of bricks. Your mouth turns dry after you’ve said it.
The chuckle he lets out as his face turns mean, mocking, as he looks up at you, makes heat come into your cheeks. “Let’s not do this right now. Can we just,” he sighs, closing his eyes again, “can we just focus on finding this and leave our shit in the past.”
“Our shit?” You can’t help but laugh at that. “And what shit would that be exactly? You leaving me in Cairo? You having not spoken to me in three years and decided out of nowhere that you need my help, because you quote-on-quote trust me, but won’t let me in enough to actually know the why, is that the shit you’re talking about? Or is there some other shit I don’t know about?”
“I’m not doing this with you.” His scowl paints a shadow across his eyes, his fingers running through his hair frustratingly.
“Shocker.”
“Can we just get this done, please?”
“So you can leave for another three years and pound on my door at eleven at night needing my help again? Gladly.” You close your book angrily, throw it on top of the stack on the counter, “hopefully in the next three that leaf actually turns over.”
A silence falls over the two of you as you continue the task at hand, just as Marc wanted. The tension is still there and nipping at the back of your neck as your fingers flip through pages, as you step into Marc’s space to copy coordinates into an app, and circle the locations on the map. The cycle of retaining information, gathering, stepping into each other's space, his cologne wafting over you one too many times making you forget a line you just read.
Until finally you jump up from your seat, “I think I got it!” You shove the book in front of Marc’s face, point out the passage you just read. His fingers moving along the keys of the laptop, eyes flicking to the map, yours going over the information the two of you scribbled down together to see if your calculations add up—to see if you’re right.
You see a smile spread on Marc’s lips, genuine and familiar, as he points to the screen, “there it is.”
You push yourself back into his space, your shoulder flush to his warm chest as you stare at the screen. Your own smile spreading, “fuck,” you laugh softly. “No wonder you won’t tell me the why. I hope you still have the suit.”
“I do.”
“Good,” you shake your head, “I better get half if you cash that baby in, I did find it after all.” It’s a joke and by the small vibration against your shoulder you know he’s taken it as such.
You stare at the screen, your eyes scanning over the relic that’s shown clearer, bigger, now that it’s on the laptop, than on his phone. The coordinates of its home: Cairo, making your stomach sink. The nipping suspicion of why he won’t tell you anything more on the why, the matter—unfortunately clear to you now. It wasn’t safe for you to go back there.
God knows it definitely was not safe for him either.
“Thank you.”
You turn and the realization of just how close the two of you are finally seems to click, slotting into that part of your brain that has your smile fading, your brain going a little hazy. “Of course,” you smile tightly, “guess we still make a good team.”
“Yeah,” he says softly, a hint of a grin on his lips, but it’s swallowed down and then he’s moving. Standing from the chair and grabbing his phone, copying the information into the device and slipping it into his pocket.
And you know it’s time to say goodbye again, that this night spent in the past has finally come to an end—and you know you should be glad, should be more than happy to hurry him towards the door. But the ache in your chest has you rooted to your spot against the island, an excuse to get him to stay a little longer trying to form in your brain.
You know better though. That was never how it was supposed to go, because this is not the past. This is reality. Not some old fantasy you used to live in.
“So,” you cross your arms, “guess I’ll see you in three years, same time?”
His lips twitch up, “hopefully not.”
You swallow down the way his answer stings. Sends you plummeting. You should be happy to never see him again. You forgot him before and you can do it again.
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
You turn to pick up the mess on your island, scattered papers collected into your hands—the urge to act on the nerves that are currently coursing through you violently, making your hands tremble. You expect to hear his heavy footsteps against the wood floor, the door slamming behind him. To feel the cold chill of being alone again. Away from him and his heat. For good. Hopefully.
“Be careful, Marc.” It slips out without a second thought, spoken gently, sincerely.
“Don’t worry about me.”
The papers in your hand are in as neat of a pile as you can manage right now, your back pressing to the edge of the island, looking over at him as he just stands there. His fingers twitch at his sides as he does, almost like he doesn’t know what to do.
“That’s going to be hard to do when you’re going to the one place where you shouldn’t.”
“There’s a lot of places I shouldn’t go, it’s never stopped me before.”
“Maybe this time it should.” You shrug, “maybe this job you don’t have to do.”
His head shakes, “I didn’t come here for this.”
“Yeah, you’ve made that more than clear. This wasn’t a friendly visit. We’ve covered.” You laugh, “just as clear as you not really coming here because you trust me, you just needed to use my resources.” Your head shakes, “I’m fine with that, but don’t sugar coat what this is. I would have thought you would have grown out of that.”
“I do trust you.”
“Not enough to tell me why you need to go back to Cairo, it’s fucking foolish after what happened last time we were there.”
Marc swallows, presses his lips together, “we are not going back there. I am and I can handle it.”
“Like last time?”
You know it’s a low blow, a punch to the gut. But your blood is boiling and you’re tired of pretending like this isn’t just as it was before, the heat and anger in his eyes when he looks at you. The ache you feel all over, but mostly in your heart for him, and the shadow that covers over his eyes when something real is spoken between the two of you and the visible itch Marc has to shut it all down and run. Or turn the fight into silence and never speak of it again.
“Last time was,” there’s a frustrated noise let out, fingers in his hair, the shake of his head, “it was a mistake.”
“Which part? The part where you left me there alone-”
“You know what part!” His voice booms through your apartment, “and don’t act like I didn’t leave you for a reason.”
“You left me stranded in Cairo because you were a coward.”
The pounding of your heart has picked up, the thrum heard in your ears. Your brows matching his scowl. This conversation being three years in the making and you weren’t going to let him shy down how fucked it all was by him thinking he has a good enough reason to just leave you like that. To break you like that.
“I was not a coward.” He steps towards you until his shoes are toe to toe with your bare feet, his breath hitting your cheeks like a slap as his words are spit out, “I left to keep you safe.”
“I wasn’t in danger!” Your head shakes, “I was fine. You left because it got too real for you, us.”
His scowl deepens, disbelief written over his face, “you think I left because of us?”
“Why else would you spend the night with me and then leave. After-“ you swallow shakily, “after I said it.” Your arms are back to being crossed against your chest, you want to look away from him, want to tear your eyes from his burning gaze as you say the next words. The heat in your body collected in your cheeks, “After I said I loved you.”
His features soften just a bit, there’s something in his eyes that makes your breath shutter.
“It didn’t mean anything to begin with,” you lie. “It was one of those things people say in the moment, ya know sex endorphins and all that. You didn’t need to leave.” You want to add the ‘leave me’ part to the statement, but with the way you feel the burning begin at the back of your eyes from the thought alone, you know it’s best you don’t. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. You’ve done enough crying for Marc. You refused to waste one more tears on him.
He looks down, runs his fingers along his jaw, flexes his hands. “I didn’t,” he takes in a breath, “I didn’t leave because of that.” His voice is low, traces of the venom that was once there now gone. “You almost died, because of me.” When his eyes meet back to yours there’s pain there and it makes the anger drain from your body completely.
“That wasn’t your fault, Marc.”
“Yes it was. I knew the risk of the mission and I still let you go.”
“You didn’t let me go I-”
“You shouldn’t have gone! It wasn’t as safe as the other times, I didn’t calculate enough, I wasn’t fast enough and you got hurt.”
“You weren’t the one holding the knife to me were you? No. We both knew how risky it was, but that’s what we did. I didn’t care–wouldn’t care about the risk. I wasn’t going to leave your side.” Your fingers itch to reach out and grab him, to press your palm to his cheek, lace your fingers with his, just to touch him.
“You should have. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt. I should have known better.”
“You knowing better would be knowing there would have been nothing you could have said to stop me from going with you. I’m not some weak girl.”
“I’m not saying you are!” He huffs, “you’re one of the toughest people I know. Hard headed and strong to the point of giving anyone a headache.” His fists are balled at his sides, “and to watch that knife cut through you, to see that strength diminished while I couldn’t,” his head drops, “while I couldn’t get to you.”
“Marc,” you reach out for him but he moves away. Your chest aching.
“I shouldn’t have let you go with me. And I was not going to make that mistake again.” There’s a small sheen in his eyes but he blinks it away. “I am sorry though, for leaving you like that. I shouldn’t have done it like that. You’re right.”
You don’t remember the words ‘sorry’ and ‘you’re right’ paired in any sentence Marc has ever spoken to you before. The effect of the words doing too much to you right now, you don’t remember when the last breath you had taken was, can’t remember if you’ve blinked in seconds, minutes.
The memory of that night, everything that happened; a blade going through your abdomen, Marc’s scream of your name seeming so far away. Your body falling slack in the sand, the haze of what followed until your eyes opened again and you were in the hotel room the two of you were held up in. Marc hunched over in a chair beside the bed, his elbows on his knees, face in his palms.
The look in his eyes when you said his name has been etched behind your eyelids for years now. The way he cupped your face, the upturn of his lips in the joy of you being alright.
And then the sequence of kissing, gentle touches, thrusts, reassurances of you being okay, of Marc taking his time with you—not only because of the bandage on your stomach—the moment being the most intimate that had been shared between the two of you up until then. As if it were more than just fucking like it usually was. You couldn’t help but moan the words against his lips.
“I love you.”
He didn’t say them back and you never expected him to. You just felt like you needed to say them, to finally get them out. To let him know.
You fell asleep in his arms and woke up with him gone. The realization that you were probably never going to see him again setting in once you boarded the plane.
And here he was, the same man he was back then. Only now he was telling you how he felt, not running away from you. Not leaving you wondering and stranded in heartache.
Even if his words were hurting just the same.
Marc thought you were strong, tough. You wish he could believe your words as much as you believed his. That’s what truly hurt.
“I didn’t even want to come here tonight. I thought about it for days, walked past your building too nervous to even step foot inside.” He laughs, “it sounds pathetic. But, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let something happen to you again.” His face is solemn, “that’s why I can’t tell you why, give you more. I’ve probably already given you too much. I’d rather have you pissed off at me than dead.”
His words continue to wound and heal you all in the same go. Make you continue to ache and long for him.
Part of you regrets every word you spoke earlier out of anger towards him. Every ill thought you had at why you thought he had left you. You knew the truth now and it only made the heartache more unbearable.
You step closer to him, close that distance he put between the two of you. Your hand reaching out to take one of his, your fingers finding the long lost home they’ve missed too much between his. Your eyes downcast as you look at them, “Marc, you have to know it wasn’t your fault what happened to me. We both knew the danger, I never would have let you stop me, anything could have happened. One shit guy got past us, went unnoticed, and something bad happened. But something worse could have too.” Your other hand hesitates before you place it on his bicep, his jacket having long been discarded somewhere in the room. “I’m sorry for assuming why you left that night, I just thought that…whatever it was between us became too real for you. I guess I know you too well, when it comes to you and your relationship with reality at least.” You laugh softly.
He’s not looking at you when your eyes move up to his face. They are on your twined fingers, his expression unreadable. And maybe that’s what makes you braver, makes you move even closer so your chest is pressed to his and there is no more room to be had between the two of you.
Your earlier declaration of this exact thing not happening, never going to happen, not even an afterthought in your mind.
You know Marc knows it too, can feel everything shifting; the moment the two of you are having turning into something else, something more familiar to the two of you. Your bodies having not forgotten the way this went, the building up and putting together of something shared between lovers.
“I shouldn’t have come.”
“Probably not.”
“I should go.”
“You should.”
And that’s all it takes. His eyes locking on to yours, that heat there, that intensity. His hands coming up to cup your cheeks and bring your lips to his in a rough kiss that sets you completely ablaze.
Marc backs you up until you are once again pressed to the edge of the island, his front pressed hard to yours, his kiss bruising. The warmth of his palms on your cheeks makes them itch from the way they burn against your flesh. Your lips feel at home against his, as if you two have been doing this for the last three years he’s been gone. No time passing. Just this. His lips on yours completely consuming your being.
When he finally pulls away from you, when you two can finally let out the breaths stuck in your chests. His eyes are darker, one hand skates down to rest at the side of your neck, the other at your hip.
“Tell me to go.” It’s a demand spoken between heavy breaths, “tell me to go and I’ll never come back.” His thumb runs a small pattern against your neck, his eyes shooting down to your lips for half a second, “you’ll be safe and I’ll be gone, as it should be.”
Your head shakes, eyes soft and filled with something that’s never left for him; rooted itself bone deep for him. Your arms had wrapped themselves around his neck when you started kissing, your fingers in his hair still. “Stay.” You say breathless, bring your lips so close to his again, “I’m safest with you here, with me.” He’s looking down at you, chest heaving, fingers trembling against you. “Stay with me, Marc.”
The push of his hand on your neck brings your lips back to his, seals the two of you together. A wordless agreement, yes.
There’s some maneuvering around furniture and then you're in your bedroom; shoes tossed aside, socks forgotten—and then the back of your knees are at the edge of your mattress. Your fingers tangle in the bottom of his dark shirt before you pull it up and he helps you lift it over his head. Taking the brief moment of your lips being parted to let your fingers press to his chest, your eyes taking in his naked torso. Your mind taking in every small scar on his tanned skin that you can remember—that you can see. The warmth of his flesh on yours reminding you of so many nights spent with it against you. Of how you have had your lips pressed to this skin, have seen this skin hurt, bleeding, and put back together.
God you’ve missed it so much.
And you can’t help yourself from pressing a kiss to his collarbone, the base of his throat, the top of one of his pecs. You want to go further but you feel his finger under your chin stopping you, looking up at him through your lashes; that desirous gaze still knocking you for a loop after all these years. He brings you back to him, back to his lips, as if he can’t stand to be parted from them for too long.
He follows your same actions in pulling your pajama shirt over your head and discarding it to the floor, the realization of you being completely bare underneath it coming to you too late. The cool air in the room nipping at your sensitive skin, your nipples hard and rubbing against his chest just enough to have small noises made against his lips.
Marc pulls away to look down at your chest, the fallen curls against his forehead rubbing softly against yours as he does so. Both of his rough palms move along your curves slowly, the scrap of the calluses on his fingers, on your soft skin making you shiver. There’s never been embarrassment between the two of you, you had never shied your body from him—but with so much time passed it almost feels like the first time again and you feel small nerves burn in your stomach.
Or maybe it’s from how intense his gaze feels on you, the itch to want to know what his eyes are showing; hunger? Lust? Something more devastatingly soft?
He presses his lips to your chest, your shivers turning into full blown trembles when you feel the wet heat of his lips on top of your breasts. His mouth paying dutiful attention to each one of them, his hands coming to a stop at the sides of them. His index fingers rubbing against your sensitive nipples, making your thighs press together, that desirous ache already having been built to the point of pounding between your legs.
Marc drops to his knees, making him the perfect eye level with your tits. When his lips wrap around one of your nipples, taking it into his mouth letting his tongue run across it slow and precise before sucking on it; your head falling back as you moan. Your nails digging into his shoulder when you feel the scrap of teeth.
He does the same to the other, spending what feels like forever devouring them. Leaving you even more breathless and wet. There’s a kiss pressed under the nipple he’s just popped from his mouth, and then his lips are trailing down your sternum. You anticipate for him to go further, your body amping itself up in excitement to feel him go lower and lower until he reaches that ache that needs soothing.
But when you don’t feel his lips continue their decent you open your eyes to look down at him, only to feel the swelling of your heart when you see why he’s stopped; the reminder you’ve had etched on your skin for the last three years, a scream in the form of a scar. A pang in your chest every time your eyes looked over it in the passing of a mirror, or your fingers pressed to it in the shower. It’s not an ugly irritating thing, really, it’s small and barely pops out of your skin. But the way Marc is looking at it, the notable grief in his eyes, makes yours burn.
“Hey,” you say softly, moving the curls from his forehead in a gentle soothing touch. “Marc, look at me.” He does and you don’t think his eyes have ever looked so big, his lips so wet and swollen.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” you shake your head, press your palm to his cheek, let your thumb nail gently run along his jawline. “I usually forget it’s there,” you smile, “but it does make me look like a badass, does it not?”
And your heart jumps when the corners of his mouth turn up into a small smile, his gaze pulled from you as he presses a kiss to the scar. You know he’s not just going to let it go, know it’s going to still be on his mind. But he doesn’t say anything to indicate such, only mumbles “very badass” against it. Then his lips are continuing down your body.
When he reaches the top of your pajama shorts he pulls away, undoes the small strings tied together to keep them up. Pushes them down after the knot is freed, helps you step out of them and throws them in the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Marc’s hands skate up the tops of your thighs, coming to rest at your hips. He looks up at you through the darkness of his lashes as leans forward, bringing his mouth closer, closer, to your clothed core.
You hold his gaze until you feel his tongue run a stripe along your soaked underwear, it felt through the lace so tantalizingly good, a whimper slips from your parted mouth. The tip of his tongue dips between your lips as much as the fabric allows, the urge to rock your hips up into him ever present.
Marc’s fingers hook themselves at the fabric against your hip, pulling them down, helping your legs step from the garment like he did your shorts, a quick kiss felt at the side of your calf as he does so. And then his lips are pressing to your inner thighs, your legs shaking as the heat of his mouth grows closer to the heat of your core.
When his mouth finally reaches that part of you that aches for him in need, in desire. The moan that escapes you is loud and burns; his tongue lapping at the wetness on your folds, spreading them with the tip to seek out your clit and run along the nerve with slow motions. Your fingers tightening in his hair as the burning in your lower belly turns to incandescent lava.
And he hasn’t forgotten, his mouth remembering every inch of your cunt. The parts you like sucked, licked. How you like his tongue to flick, run, and swirl here or there, until you are a complete mess around him and there’s wetness dripping down your thighs; soothing the burn from the hints of stubble along his jaw.
Your breath hitches when you feel one of his fingers prod at your entrance, entering you slowly to the knuckle. Marc moves the digit in and out of you with the same speed and time he does with his tongue against your clit. Both movements making your legs feel weak and wobbly. That fire in your lower belly growing closer and closer to being extinguished into something blissful.
You feel a soft chuckle vibrate against you from Marc as he wraps his arm around your legs to keep you grounded. His mouth pulling away from your clit, finger pulling from you. A quick wet kiss pressed to your mound before he’s looking up at you and saying, “lay down” in an amused tone.
He doesn’t have to convince you more than that, your legs feeling heavy enough. You’re quick to listen and fall back on your mattress, scooting yourself up enough so no part of you is dangling off, and giving Marc enough room to lay between your legs; the backs of your thighs pressed to the tops of his shoulders as he grips your hips and pulls you to his mouth.
His mouth returning to your clit, the heat of his tongue joining the warmth of your sensitivity, that burning in your belly returning. This time when he slips his finger inside of you it’s followed up with a second one, your back arching, strings of moans panted out. His fingers are knuckle deep and curling themselves against your walls until they hit that spot inside of you that has your walls clenching and fluttering against them. The wetness of his fingers fucking into you and the suck of his lips around your clit has the room filled with filthy noises, the octave of your moans only adding to the symphony of pleasure.
Your fingers grip themselves in your comforter, that blaze in your belly growing the more Marc’s tongue moves against your clit, faster faster. His fingers picking up the same speed, your body buzzing as it’s strummed by his skillful mouth and fingers. That blissful orgasm haze making your mind foggy, your hips stuttering against Marc’s mouth as he brings you to that edge.
Finally pushing you over when his fingers press against that deep spot once more, paired with the suction of his tongue to your swollen clit; you’re coming, your head thrown back, body withering, your knees pressed to the side of his skull as your loud moan fills the room. As your walls flutter, clench, and release against his fingers, wetness oozing around them. As that euphoric high makes a cooling heat burn to the point of succumption; to the pleasure, to Marc.
Aftershocks rack through your body when Marc’s tongue laps at the new wetness gathered around your fluttering hole, coating your folds. His lips pressing wet kisses to each of your inner thighs, before he’s moving himself up from you, sitting back on his knees.
You can’t remember a time—since last seeing him—that you’ve come that hard. Your fingers and any toys you’ve used not holding a match to the orgasmic high this man just gave to you; intense, leaving you only sedated for seconds, minutes, until you needed more, to be filled by him.
“I forgot how good at that you were,” you’re still trying to catch your breath as you say it, your head turning to look at him.
A soft laugh complimenting his grin, there’s a small sheen of wetness on his chin—what he mixed with the back of his hand. “Yeah?” You nod smiling. Marc leans forward enough to wrap his hand around the back of your neck and pulls you up to him, both hands resting at the sides of your neck when he leans down again, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks, “and I forgot how good you tasted.” Both your smiles are wiped away with the pressing of his lips to yours, the taste of yourself on his tongue when it slips into your mouth, the filthiness of your own essence being passed to you making you moan.
The heat from his chest is on top of your breasts. There’s a low groan in the back of his throat when you run your palm along the bulge in his pants. All of it aiding to that ache building back up between your legs.
There’s still that dark desire in his eyes when he pulls away and looks down at you, “do you want to keep going?”
Both of you know that once you cross that threshold more than you already have, step completely back into that place—that past—that it’ll be even harder to let it go again. To move on from the wound being reopened, and you don’t know what tomorrow will bring. If he will really leave you again, if this is the goodbye you didn’t get last time or something more. You don’t want to think about it, all the hidden meanings and what ifs.
All you want is him. Marc in this moment. Marc inside of you.
So there’s only one clear and true answer you can give him; “yes,” you swallow shakily, “do you?” Your heart clenches as you wait for the answer, hoping it’s the same as yours.
“I don’t think I’d be able to stop even if I didn’t.” And his lips are on yours again, your stomach fluttering from his words and the way his clothed cock grinds against your core when he pushes your back down on the bed, his legs slotting between yours.
That fire in your belly back with a vengeance the more you feel the throbbing of his cock through the fabric of his jeans. Your nails lightly skating down his back when his lips move along the side of your neck, his mouth taking the skin there between his lips to suck and run his tongue along it. Repeating the pattern along the traces of your column; sinking his teeth into the flesh, making whimpers turn into moans and your chest push up into his.
Your hips are rolling against his, the low grunts he lets out falling against your skin, landing on the throbbing parts of your aching sex. And you know if you don’t feel him inside of you soon you might go insane. But the thought of this possibly being a goodbye—your last time with him before he disappears again—makes you want to go slow. To take him in more places than just your pussy.
Your hands move between the two of you as you fumble with his belt, try to undo the buckle blindly. Marc’s fingers coming down onto yours to stop you, “need help?” He teases as he smirks down at you, leaning back on his knees as does what your fingers couldn’t. All you can do is watch. Watch him pull the belt from the loops of his pants and let it fall to the floor, his fingers going for the buckle of his pants next. Undoing them enough for you to—act before thinking—reach your hand inside of the dark material and past his boxers to wrap your palm around his cock. The hot flesh, the memory of it being against your tongue, inside of you, making you bite your lower lip.
Making you lean up and stretch your neck just enough, hooking your finger around the chain on his neck, pulling on it lightly until he gets the hint and bends down to smash your lips together, a groan vibrating against your lips as your palm moves against him; the little space inside of his boxers not giving you much wiggle room, but enough to have his cock twitching and hips moving.
“It’s my turn to taste you,” you smirk against his lips, “lay down.”
And he doesn’t protest, only returns your smirk with one last kiss to your lips and then the two of you are switching positions, you helping him slip his last two layers completely off; the head of his cock slapping against his lower belly.
Your jaw aching as you take in the size and thickness of him, remembering—craving—to feel that stretch of your cheeks and pain in your jawbone from taking him so many times before. Marc fucking your mouth more times than you can count, or recall. The mess of drool and spit and cum that always coated your lips and chin afterwards was addicting.
When you wrap your palm back around his shaft, pumping your fist along it slowly, Marc lets out a deep noise as he leans up on his elbows watching you. The want to tease him crosses your mind, to have him completely withering beneath you even before you put him in your mouth. But you’re more impatient, wanting that remembrance of how good he tastes.
So instead of dragging out the anticipation you let the flat of your tongue run along the underside of his cock, to the tip where you swirl your tongue around the head, against the crown; before you wrap your lips around him and suck. The low hissing groan he lets out as his hips gently roll up of their own accord, making your cunt flutter, thighs press closer.
You take your time with moving your mouth down his length, setting a slow pace as you fall back in love with the heavy weight of him on your tongue. As you taste the precum at his tip. Your hand twisting and jerking off the parts your mouth hasn’t reached—that it can’t reach when you finally hit the back of your throat and gag around him.
Making a rhythm, a pattern, of it all. Going as far as you can until you’re gagging, your saliva completely coating his cock now, a slick noise filling the room as your hand and mouth work along him. Your fingers twisting along the bottom of his head as you suck his crown the way you know his likes; his hips continuing to roll and stutter up, and you can tell Marc is holding back, that he’s not fucking your mouth the way he’s used to. The way the both of you love.
No he’s savoring you like this, the feeling, the lock of your eyes when you look up through your lashes at him as you swallow him down. His knuckles whiting as he grips the comforter just as you had minutes ago, his mouth agape, a delirious pleasured haze glazing his dark eyes as he watches you.
“Fuck,” Marc groans, growing completely breathless, “now I’m remembering why most of our nights ended with me filling your throat.” He chuckles, breathy and low, “you’re so good.”
You moan against his cock and the vibration has his head tipping back, his hips pushing up too much that it has you gagging around him. Your jaw already growing tired from the stretch, and you love it. Your taste buds craving that salty taste of him on your tongue, forgetting all about the throbbing want between your legs.
Until Marc’s hand is gripping your jaw and pulling you from his cock, pulling you up to his lips, “you and this fucking mouth,” his fingers dig into the skin of your jaw making you whimper, “you’re going to make me come.” He kisses you roughly, “but I need to feel your pussy around me.” He groans against your lips.
He smoothly switches your positions, his hips slotted between your open legs again, hovering his chest over yours. A hand at the base of your neck as he looks down at you, “Couldn’t stop myself from thinking about you, constantly.” It’s barely audible, on a whisper and then his lips are pressing to the side of your face, your neck, your lips. Your stomach flipping, the urge to let that dam break of how much you missed him, missed this, on the tip of your tongue but not dared enough to slip out.
His hips move slowly, rolling up at just the right angle to have the head of his cock rubbing against your clit; the small pinpricks of burning pleasure from the contact making you push your hips up to meet his. That tantalizing pounding ache inside of you, at your entrance, begging him—needing for him to go a little lower, to bring his tip there, to slip inside of you, to fill you, remind you of how full he always made you feel.
“Marc, please,” you whine into his shoulder, nipping at his skin playfully and impatiently. Your pleadings making him smile against your neck, his lips leaving a trail to your lips.
“Missed it that bad, huh?” He teases, slips his tongue in your mouth kissing you deeply, swallowing down your whimpered yes, your head nodding against the pillow.
You fully expect him to drag it out even more, until you’re truly begging for him; always liking it when he left you like that. But you know he’s dying to be inside of you as you are to feel him, the throbbing and twitching of his cock on your clit being a good indication of it. And he doesn’t make either of you wait much longer, his hand moving between the two of you, wrapping around his shaft to reposition his head to your entrance.
The breath in your lungs seems to halt all together, getting trapped in your throat, your mouth falling open, as you feel him slowly push inside of you; the stretch burning even though you’re soaked, no memory or recollection of that past could have made you remember just how thick he is—you now realize. When he’s completely inside of you, your walls surrounding him tightly, feeling fuller than possible, you both let out a heavy breath. Marc bringing his forehead down to yours.
Did his cock always feel this good?
The two of you stay like that for a minute, your heavy breaths the only sound in the room. Marc’s palm runs along your cheek to your chin, where he grips it between his fingers, “okay?”
You nod, bring your fingers to the back of his head to run through his curls, “perfect,” you smile, leaning up to kiss his lips, and then he finally moves. His hips thrusting slow, and gentle, moans breathed and pressed into each other’s mouths.
Marc’s elbows are encased around you, his fallen hair tickling your forehead, the sides of your face, as he fucks into you languid, deep. You want to look up at him, to see those dark eyes looking down at you, but his cock feels too good, your brain too fogged with pleasure, lust; his heat, his weight, his girth, smell, touch, completely engulfing you.
The burning in your belly rising again. You can feel your walls tighten and flutter against his length, and you don’t know how you ever went without this. Without his deep heavy breaths, and grunts against you, above you. Fanning across your face and breathed into your mouth. How did you go without this for three years?
In the morning you’ll probably regret it all, letting him inside of you again; in more ways than this. You know when he’s gone, no matter what traces, scars, bruises, marks, he leaves on your body—leaves of him—won’t be enough. You need this. Need him.
You’re tired of pretending you don’t. Pretending like your heart hasn’t been in complete shambles for three years missing him. You never moved on, no matter how much convincing anger and bad mouthing of his name into the void did. And you know now, with his cock thrusting into you, with you on the verge of coming again, his name on your lips; that you’ll never be able to get over him.
Not in this universe or the next.
And when you move the hair from his face, when your eyes meet, you know he feels it too. Can see that glint of understanding in them that he always harbored for you when words couldn’t cut it—couldn’t be found or expressed.
When his thrusts pick up speed, the snap of his hips burning your inner thighs, the squelching of his cock fucking into your wetness, your skin moving against each other filling your ears like a beautiful sonnet. Marc’s fist comes to rest at the column of your neck, there’s no pressure, no indentation of his fingers in your skin—the weight of it is enough.
His stubble burns your cheek as his teeth nip at your lobe, his heavy breaths in your ear making you shiver, your legs tighten around his waist; bringing them up just a bit further to drive him deeper inside of you. Your moans growing in octave, in frequency, burning your throat each time you swallow against his palm.
Your nails dig into his back the harder his thrusts become, the deeper and rougher they are.
“Marc,” you moan into his shoulder breathless, fucked out.
“You say my name so pretty, like I’m some savior–like I’m all you need.” He grunts into your ear, “I’ve dreamt about you like this, you saying my name like that, coming on my cock. Can’t tell you how many times.”
Your hands move up his body to his neck to pull him to your lips, his eyes hooded, lost completely in the pleasure of you; his gaze and words, groans, his cock, all making your insides feel like lava, your chest concaving in, “I do need you.” You whimper against his lips, “I always have.”
Marc’s head shakes lightly, “I’m going to ruin you, again.”
“Ruin me then,” your thumbs are pressed into his chin, your nails nicking his bottom lip, “you have my permission, ruin me, Marc. I’m yours to do so.” You kiss him, hard, rough, “just don’t leave me this time.”
He grunts into your mouth, his fist gripping the pillow behind your head, “never.”
You know he doesn’t mean it, the both of you are drunk off of each other right now, on the brink of coming undone around the other; breathless, fucked out, brain clouded with pleasure. But that doesn’t stop the way the notion makes your stomach sink sink sink until you’re coming around his cock, your body withering and shaking against his, your walls gripping him like a vice. His name on your lips, moaned breathlessly; in unhinged bliss as your mind rides that beautiful wave for the second time tonight.
Marc’s hips snap into you roughly, fucking you through your high, his hips stuttering shortly after you’re coming down. His thrusts sloppy and breath picking up, deep grunts vibrating through his chest coming more and more against your lips until he’s groaning, his hand pulled from your throat as he pulls his cock from your walls, stroking along his shaft until he’s coming on your mound. Pressing his lips to yours in one last searing kiss. His body shaking against yours, the hot heat of his cum on your skin making you shiver.
He doesn’t move even after the two of you have come down. His chest stays pressed to yours as the both of you are still trying to catch your breath, foreheads pressed together, chests shaking, bodies slick with sweat.
Your body is buzzing from pleasure, your walls sore and still fluttering with aftershocks; even after Marc pulls himself from your chest to lay on his back beside you. You open your eyes to stare up at the ceiling, your limbs feeling like jelly, your body feeling a sedation it hasn’t in far too long. You can feel his cum drying on your skin, but you could care less about taking care of it. You don’t want to move, to close your eyes again and have this all be a dream—an overactive imagination.
You can feel his body heat at your shoulder, feel his deep breaths. And when you feel the back of his hand move along the blanket until he finds your fingers, lacing them with his; that dam finally breaks. That burning behind your lids finally bringing itself to the forefront.
You swallow it down as fast as it’s coming, try to blink the burn away. Chastise yourself for being so emotional after sex, especially with Marc. The fear that he might run again—even if it wasn’t from your emotions before. It’s there and all you can think about. That declaration you made to him the last time you were like this, together, fucked out, blissful; calm.
And it’s in the back of your throat to say it again, to let slip out, to actually declare it when your mind is clearer and not consumed with pleasure dealt out by him. But you don’t. You swallow it down with all the other emotions that are begging to be released.
Instead you ask softly, “how did you know where to find me?”
He waits a second before answering, probably debating on if he should tell the truth. “After you left, I went looking for you,” he swallows, “I wanted to make sure you were okay, safe.”
“Why didn’t you–“
“I talked myself out of it,” he answers your question without even needing you to finish it. “The image of you laid out, bloody, hurting, because of me–what happened–I couldn’t..”
You nod in understanding. Don’t question him anymore or you know the tears will fall. Will make this beautiful moment into something real, too real for him.
“There wasn’t a day that didn’t go by when you weren’t on my mind. I went to sleep hearing you tell me you loved me, and I woke up every morning knowing I didn’t deserve that love.”
Your fingers instinctively squeeze his as he speaks. You know the dark of the room is helping him, aiding him in expressing, getting out what he never did before—what he never told you. You want to open your mouth and tell him, show him, how deserving of love he is. Want to scream it until he believes it. Understands it.
“It gutted me everyday. Especially knowing that I,” he stops, goes quiet for a minute, you can feel him scowling up at the ceiling without even having to look over at him. “I loved you too.”
And that’s when you finally let the tears fall, can’t fight them any longer. Your eyes falling shut, your head turning to the side, away from him, as they run down your cheeks. Your breath held in your lungs, your heart sinking down into your gut; a mournful ache building throughout your body.
You think you’re doing a good job of wiping the tears as they fall with the back of your hand, slowing your breathing when it finally comes, sniffing as softly as you can; but it’s a mute effort when you feel Marc shifting against the mattress, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? Loving me?” You sniff, try to make a joke but the laughs never come.
“Well..”
“Marc.”
You feel his cheeks contort into a smile against your head, “I’m sorry for leaving you.”
“Don’t apologize if you’re just going to leave again.”
A silence falls over you, you wiping your tears, sniffing into his chest, the circles his hand is rubbing into your back helping you calm down, your ducts drying up.
When he pulls you back to look down at you, his thumb swiping a stray tear on your cheek, you want to feel embarrassed for crying but know it’s ridiculous; this man has seen you at your worst, ugly, bloodied, vomiting up liquor you thought you could handle. He’s seen you come undone and back together, he’s seen it all. He’s seen you.
“I’m not going to leave again. But I can’t promise I won’t want to if shit hits the fan, and you’re at risk of getting hurt again.” He looks into your eyes, “that’s all I can give you right now.”
And it’s all you could want from him in this moment. This not-promise that means more to you than a real one ever could.
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