#‘and we kissed as though nothing could fall. and the shame’
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airasora · 2 days ago
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saw someone say stolitz is handled better in fanon than in canon because "there's not a lot of obvious signs of them falling in love." thoughts?
... what.
Not a... not a lot of signs of them falling in love??? My dude, my girlypop, my enby... ARE WE WATCHING THE SAME SHOW 🤣🤣🤣
I could write an essay about how obvious it is that they're both pining for each other, but I'll just make a list instead.
Stolas
Love at first sight
Brings Blitz and his coworkers to The Harvest Moon Festival just because (not to fuck or for safety, but just to be nice to them all)
Instinctively knows when Blitz is in danger ("I have my ways", oh, please, Stolas, you're keeping an eye on him cause you care)
Watches soap dramas while pining for Blitz
Is excited about their first date and goes all out with his looks for it
Wants desperately to actually TALK with Blitz
Asks Blitz about his day
Wants to hang out with Blitz just to hang out
Understands and validates the importance to Loona's shot despite being in actual danger himself
Has TWO songs about being hopelessly in love with Blitz
Goes out of his way to give Blitz a way to go to the human world without him even though he risks Blitz not wanting to see him anymore
Despite Blitz' initial rejection, Stolas doesn't cry until he thinks Blitz thinks low of him (proving that he was understanding if Blitz wanted nothing to do with him anymore
Despite being angry, sad, and drunk, Stolas still helps Blitz hide at the all of Blitz' exes party
Instinctively looks at Blitz for permission to dance with the "Better than Blitz" guy
Blitz
Millie calls Stolas Blitz' boyfriend (confirming she knows Blitz has feelings for Stolas)
Gets flustered when trying to explain his situationship with Stolas (if it was purely professional, why does it make him nervous to talk about?)
Despite only inviting Stolas on a date to spy on Millie and Mox, when Stolas tries to actually talk with him, he turns to face him and tries to talk too
Blitz is clearly very hurt after the Ozzie's incidence
Blitz immediately parties hard and tries to hook up with multiple after Ozzie's (a typical response to someone who is hurting romantically)
Gets flustered from seeing human Stolas (there's a tiny blush)
When Blitz realizes Stolas can actually get hurt, he looks terrified
The entire apology tour is legit just to prove something to Stolas (and himself)
Despite having hurt many people, Blitz clearly cares the most about having hurt Stolas
The way he looks at Stolas when he's confessing his love for him AND during their talk at the party
Gets hella jealous when Stolas kisses someone else
I haven't watched episode 10 yet nor the last two shorts, so I could probably add more to these lists, but even without those, there's plenty of proof of them falling in love.
Whoever said this must not be good at reading in between the lines. No shame, but... they're objectively wrong 😂
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chirpsythismorning · 1 year ago
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willslun · 2 years ago
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flickergate theory truthers UNITE
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kittykat940 · 2 years ago
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Heroes just popped up on my playlist and all I can think about is mike thinking will is dead in s1 and hugging his mom 😭
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unsurebazookacore · 1 year ago
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BYLER KISS BYLER KISS BYLER KISS
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butterflysonnets · 3 months ago
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alright well this got mad notes so i guess i'm just gonna have to throw a watch party for all of us now
when st5 comes out i need you all to know i will be unreachable for 2-5 business days because i will be sitting in my home, under rainbow lights, cat in my lap, miami vice in hand, rewatching byler confessing their love for each other on repeat with a self-satisfied grin for about that long
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wooneygoblin · 28 days ago
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what if…😳the shame..😰😰was on the other side🤯🤯
and we kissed👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨☺️as though nothing could fall…😔😔
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sena-seastar · 2 months ago
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Heart to Heart
Aemond x Wife Reader
Summary: Aemond spends time with your child so that you can have a much-needed break.
A/N: I'm back with more, Dad!Aemond, because I adore him so much. Aemond deserves someone who will love him as deeply and unconditionally as he loves them, and his baby definitely would. (Also, any dialogue in italics means the characters are speaking in high valyrian. I was too lazy to attempt to translate it.) No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes.
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“Daenys, please calm down,” you plead as you try to pacify the wailing girl.
Though your words seem to fall on deaf ears, she continues to scream and flail in your arms. You want nothing more than to join in as tears well in your eyes. You were at your wit's end. Nothing seemed to placate your child. Not even the sweets you had tried to bribe her with. 
The nursemaids had changed her nappy several times. They’ve tried feeding, bathing, offering toys, and even taking her for a walk in the gardens. Yet none of it worked. They brought her to you as a last resort, hoping she might be missing her mother. Unfortunately, their hopes went unfounded.
Daenys continued to thrash in your arms, and you struggled to keep a grip on her. She was surprisingly strong for someone so small. 
“Shh, it’s alright,” you coo, bouncing the fussy girl in your arms. “Are you tired? Shall we take a nap?”
Your questions only incite her fury. Daenys lets out an ear-splitting screech. You groaned, eyes closing in frustration at the situation. 
“How about we give your mother a break, hmm?”
You look up, finding your husband now standing before you. He takes your little girl into his arms, and for the first time in forever, she settles down. She doesn’t squirm and try to get away from him, and her wails turn into low whimpers and quiet hiccups. You watch as he handles her with such ease. Aemond pats her back and talks to her in a soothing voice, gently bouncing her in his arms. Daenys rested her head on his shoulder, her tiny fists held tightly onto his coat.
“I’m terrible at this,” you huffed, shame blooming in your chest. 
“No, you’re not.” Aemond leaned down, pressing a gentle, reassuring kiss to your head. “I’ll take her for a bit. Get some rest.”
You nod, grateful for his help. He waves Daenys’ hand towards you as they leave. You wave back until the pair disappear from your view. You sigh in relief as your body slumps onto the Grecian couch beneath you. You debate whether to continue with your book or take a quick nap.
-
Aemond holds Daenys close to his chest as he maneuvers himself off his saddle. Ser Rickard Thorne stands to the side, wearing his freshly polished armor and pristine white cloak. Aemond nods at him, and the white knight quickly takes Aemond’s horse by the reins, leading the horse away.
The dragon lord looked down, watching Daenys as she toyed with the wooden dragon in her hands. He smiled. The familiar warm fuzzy feeling that filled his entire body every time he laid his eyes on her returned. It was hard to believe that something so beautiful and innocent could come from him. But here she was. The two of you had created something- someone so precious. 
A loud grumble sounded in the air. Aemond lifted his head, observing Vhagar. The giant dragon was hard to miss, even from a great distance.
The overgrown grass and twigs squish and cackle beneath his boots as he walked into the open field where the ancient she-dragon resided. Vhagar had outgrown the dragonpit years before he had even claimed her. Vhagar turned her giant head to the side, watching them as they approached. She shut her eyes again when she realized it was just him.
Daenys let out a delighted squeal when her eyes finally landed on the giant dragon. Aemond struggled to hold her as she excitedly kicked her legs and waved her arms. Aemound cursed under his breath as the wooden dragon toy fell to the ground. Oh well, he would retrieve it later.
“What is it, my little dragon?” He asked enthusiastically. “What do you see?”
 Daenys clapped her little hands and babbled, “Vava!”
“Vhagar? Do you see Vhagar?”
She looks up to him and nods her head. Her violet eyes lock onto his, and the two smile at each other. Aemond planted a kiss on the girl’s temple, gaining sweet, girlish giggles in response.
“Very good, my little dragon. It is Vhagar.”
Daenys begins to squirm in his arms and tries to push him away.
“What is it? Do you want down?”
Aemond looks down at the grass, checking for any potential dangers. Your little girl grunts and continues to try to push him away.
Aemond huffs, “Alright, alright.”
His lips curve downward into a slight frown. The two of you had been very proud and excited when Daenys started walking. However, Aemond was a little saddened by the fact that his sweet little girl didn’t want to be in his arms all the time anymore.
His mother had told him that it’s normal for them to want to be more independent when they start walking. The man understood that, but he still did not like it one bit.
Aemond carefully lowers the little girl to her feet. Her chubby little fingers hold onto his hands as she tries to stabilize herself. When she finally stops wobbling, she lets go. Aemond’s heart races in his chest as he watches her take a small, shaky step forward. His hands immediately reach out to grab her, but he stops himself.
Daenys takes another step; this time, she’s a bit more stable. She holds her arms out, trying to balance her weight as she trots forward. Aemond follows closely behind. With each step, he felt a twinge of panic in his chest. The man struggled not to swoop her into his arms every time she stumbled.
Thankfully, they made it to Vhagar rather quickly. Vhagar gave a small huff as Daenys small hands smacked against her snout. 
“Gentle,” Aemond warned sternly, well aware of his dragon's short temper. 
The man kneeled next to her. He took one of Daenys little hands into his own, showing her how to pet Vhagar’s snout carefully. Daenys let out another excited squeal that made Aemond wince. 
“Yes,” he nodded. “It’s very exciting, but we must be quiet.”
Daenys pulled her hand away from his, wanting to try it alone. Vhagar remained still, resting lazily on her chin. Aemond stood back up. He rested his large palm against her warm green scales with a joyous smile. She truly is a sight to behold.
Vhagar was the largest and fiercest dragon in the world. Nothing could stand against her. And yet she decided that he, of all people, was worthy of her. That he deserved the privilege to call himself her rider. No one could question or deny his worth now.
“Vava, pay?”
Aemond looked down, watching as his little girl tried to get the dragon’s attention. Her silver curls fell onto her face. The man reached down, pushing the strands of hair behind her ears. He felt a bit sorry for her. Vhagar was nowhere near as active as Daenys' little hatchling, who resided in the dragon pit. She did not flap her wings or let out any shrieks of excitement like Daenys’ hatchling did when they saw each other.
Daenys tugged on his coat. She turned her head up to look at him. Her brows were drawn together, and her bottom lip protruded further than her top lip. The look on her face tugged at his heartstrings.
“Play? No, Vhagar does not want to play.”
Your little girl does not seem to accept his answer. She turns her attention back to the dragon, gently petting her scales a few more times. Daenys tries calling out to her again, but Vhagar still gives no response. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. Aemond initially planned to take her to the dragon pit, but he decided against it. Mostly because he wanted to come out and visit Vhagar. He could seldom go a day without coming to see his winged companion. 
Suddenly, a loud grumble echoed in Vhagar’s throat. The dragon, finally having enough of the child’s affection, raised her head. Daenys, who was balancing herself on Vhagar’s head, fell back, landing on her bottom with a loud oomph.
“Lykirī, Vhagar. Lykirī,” Aemond commanded as he swiftly took Daenys into his arms.
Vhagar did not move, nor did she make a sound. The ancient dragon merely eyed the two of them. When Aemond felt confident enough that she would not act, he turned his attention to Daenys.
The look on her face is heart-wrenching. Her wide eyes filled with tears, and her trembling lips stretched into a deep frown. Her breath hitched as she tried not to cry. It makes Aemond feel like he wants to cry as well. He pressed a kiss to the child’s temple.
“Don’t cry, my little love. You’ll be alright.” He tried to reassure her.
She blinks, and tears fall from her violet eyes. Sad, quiet whimpers escape from her lips. Tears started to well up in Aemond’s eye, his breath quivered, and a lump formed in his throat. He was never one to cry. It made him feel weak and small, something he despised more than anything. 
But when his little girl was upset like this, he wanted to cry. Sometimes, he still wanted to cry even when she wasn’t upset. There were many times when he would just watch her while she played or slept, and then suddenly, he would be hit with a massive wave of emotions. Aemond wondered if Viserys had ever felt that way when he looked at him or any of his siblings.
Vhagar let out a loud huff. A wave of hot air engulfs Aemond and Daenys. Aemond looks up, observing Vhagar carefully. The green dragon lowers her head, gently nudging her snout against the crying girl. Aemond raises his hand to wipe away Daenys’ tears.
“Look, she’s sorry for making you sad.”
Daenys sniffled and turned to look at Vhagar. The corners of her mouth turned upwards. She giggled as she rested her forehead against Vhagar’s snout. Her little arms did their best to hug the dragon’s giant head. 
Aemond chuckled lightly, raising his hand to give Vhagar a few rewarding pats. His chest was bursting with pride as he watched his favorite girls interact. The only one who was missing was you.
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aurorabyler · 3 months ago
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AND WE COULD BE HEROES JUST FOR ONE DAY I CAN REMEMBER STANDING BY THE WALL AND THE GUNS SHOT ABOVE OUR HEADS AND WE KISSED AS THOUGH NOTHING COULD FALL AND THE SHAME WAS ON THE OTHER SIDE
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cleo-fox · 1 year ago
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Close Quarters
Part 2 of 2
(Part 1)
Summary: The thrilling conclusion to Part 1.
Pairing: Loki x Fem Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+ (Minors DNI), dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, elevator sex, a hint of dom/sub, Dom Loki, Reader gets a little bratty, little bit of a sir kink, cunnilingus, blow jobs, filth.
A/N: I know I usually choose a Loki GIF but Thomas Sharpe seemed…more appropriate. I’ve got a couple more one shots with these idiots, so if you want to see more, lemme know.
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Mercifully, the hallway is empty.
You imagine that your exit from the elevator looks as scandalous as what happened inside it. You are draped in Loki’s arms, still out of breath and a little glassy eyed from the two earth shattering orgasms that he’d given you only minutes prior. In contrast, Loki looks relatively put together and intently focused, like there’s nothing more important on this earth than getting you both back to your suite as quickly as possible. That thought gives you a bit of a thrill—the idea of you wanting him is not necessarily new or unusual, but the idea that he might want you just as much is utterly thrilling.
It occurs to you that you’re in rather close proximity to his neck and it seems like a shame to let that opportunity go to waste. You press your lips against the pulse point in his throat and lazily make your way along his jaw. His breath hitches when you catch his earlobe between your teeth.
“Are you trying to ensure that I take you in the hallway, Mrs. Pine?” he says, his voice dropping deep.
“I won’t be able to scream for you in the hallway,” you breathe into his ear, “and I kinda think you want that.”
“Minx,” he growls, picking up his pace just slightly as you resume kissing his neck.
“I take it that means I’m right,” you say. “Or that I’m in for it when we get back to the room.”
He chuckles. “Oh, it’s both, darling.”
You shiver and nip at his earlobe once more.
Loki drops the glamor as soon as the door to your room shuts behind you and while you like the cropped blond hair of Jonathan Pine, there is something about his natural long, dark locks that drives you wild.
“Let’s me make two things clear, Agent,” he says as he carries you into the bedroom. “First: there are no covers in here; I want you screaming my name when you come. Second—” he sets you down at the foot of the bed. “—I want to taste your pretty cunt.”
Heat and tension coil in your hips. “I can agree to both of those things.”
“Good. Undress.”
He watches as you slowly strip off your swimsuit, his eyes greedy and hungry. Once you’re completely naked, he gives himself a moment to look you over in full, unconsciously licking his lips when his gaze falls on your breasts and hips, his eyes devouring every inch of you. Finally, he nods at the foot of the bed. “Sit.”
You sit down on the bed and he begins unbuttoning his shirt. He takes his time and you watch, enraptured by the slow reveal of his well-muscled chest and taut, flat stomach. The shirt is discarded on the floor with your swimsuit. He undoes his belt, then the button and zip on his shorts.
He’s wearing black boxer briefs, which surprises you—you had assumed that his preference was likely to go commando. But honestly, the boxer briefs are so fitted that the effect is essentially the same: they cling to every dip and swell and leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. The material is taut across his thighs and his cock strains hard at the fabric. If pressed, you could probably create a reasonably accurate sketch based on this view alone.
You don’t have terribly long to contemplate this, though—he kneels in front of you, pulling you in for a slow kiss, his large hands cupping your breasts. His kiss is thorough and sensual, but the addition of his hands kneading your breasts and gently teasing and pinching the sensitive skin of your nipples may actually send you into the stratosphere.
And then he lowers his mouth to your breast and you lose the ability to form coherent thoughts. He strokes his tongue lazily on your nipple in slow circles, lightly teasing the hardened bud with his teeth and bringing another flood of slick arousal to your cunt. Your hips rock fruitlessly against nothing, seeking friction to ease the throbbing pulse of your clit.
You sigh, letting your eyes close and your head tip back, your fingers tangling in his hair. After a moment, you reach for his free hand and guide it between your legs. His fingers dip between your legs, collecting your slickness and gently rolling against your clit.
You moan and he draws back, eyes dark. “Lie back,” he says softly.
You recline on the bed and his focus shifts to you spread out before him. “Lovely,” he says. He is being sincere—and there’s a power in that that thrills you, that sends even more heat and slick to your aching cunt.
When he’s looked his fill, he brings both of your legs over his broad shoulders. He lowers his head to your cunt slowly, first dipping down to inhale your scent and then with one wicked grin, slipping the warm blade of his tongue between your folds.
Your exhale is shaky and turns into a soft whine in the back of your throat as he licks a long, broad stripe from your entrance up to your clit.
“Fuck, Loki.” His name falls from your lips unbidden. You prop yourself up on your elbows and drink in the sight of him between your legs, head bowed like he is worshiping at the most sacred and solemn altar.
In the elevator, he was determined to make you come as quickly as possible; now, though, in the privacy of your room, he seems intent on taking his time and building you up achingly slowly. His tongue laves over your clit at a leisurely pace, teasing and tasting and sucking until he finds the rhythm and movement that makes you try to press your quaking thighs together because it feels so incredible. He gently presses your legs back open, keeping you spread and fully at the mercy of the rolling waves of pleasure that his mouth is creating. One of his long and elegant fingers slides inside of you and curls, pressing against that sweet, soft spot that makes your hips buck and your eyes roll to the back of your head.
When a second finger joins the first a few minutes later, you know that it won’t be much longer. Loki looks up at you, lust-glazed eyes glittering like he knows that too.
You approach the edge slowly, your breath coming in rolling gasps, your hands gripping his hair. He watches you, his gaze both hungry and mischievous. You bite your lip, breath stuttering as you furrow your brow against that final ascent.
And then the tension finally snaps and your head tips back as you tumble off the edge and into your climax, your free fall as decadent and shiver-inducing as the beautifully slow buildup.
You don’t manage to gasp his name because the concept of words has fled you entirely and the only sound that escapes your lips is a sharp cry. From the glint in his eye and the low groan of approval offered against your clit, Loki doesn’t seem to mind at all.
The aftershocks roll through you in rippling waves that make your toes curl and it takes you a moment to catch your breath.
“I confess, I’m quite tempted to stay here all night,” says Loki, placing a gentle kiss on your clit. “You have the sweetest cunt.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you say, your words slurred with pleasure.
“Hardly.” He licks you very slowly from your entrance to your clit and you sigh, running your fingers through his hair. He repeats the same circuit twice more.
“In fact,” he murmurs, placing another kiss on your clit, “I think I may need another taste.” Another lingering kiss, his tongue teasing your entrance. You suck in a shuddering breath.
“One more.” Another long stroke of his tongue and you shiver again.
“Darling, I’m so sorry—” a quick kiss to your clit, “—but I think I’m going to have to make you come again. I'm simply famished.”
Your back arches and you moan as his mouth once again envelopes your clit and his fingers slide back inside you, curling into that soft, sweet spot. You’re a little sensitive, but he’s moving with such achingly perfect precision that you can already feel another orgasm starting to build in your hips.
The ascent is much quicker this time, and you soon find yourself whimpering and panting, your hands tangling again in his hair. He groans against you and you swear you feel the vibrations shimmer all along your aching core.
“Please,” you moan. “Please. I’m so close. Please.”
He lets you ride the edge for a little bit longer, despite your pleas and your iron grip on his hair. But after a minute or so, he seems to take pity on you and he increases his pace just slightly. Your orgasm blossoms in your hips, your cunt clamping down on his fingers as you moan his name to the ceiling.
“That’s my good girl,” he purrs a moment later, as his fingers coax you through the aftershocks. He looks you over, licking his lips. “You’re gorgeous like this, you know,” he says, eyes dragging greedily over your body. “Naked and utterly fucked out. Perfection.”
You shiver and slowly convince your loose muscles to allow you to sit up. “I don’t think you can say I’m fucked out if you haven’t actually fucked me.”
His eyebrow arches, “Is that so?”
You scoot to the edge of the bed so that you can run your hands over his firm chest. You press a kiss just above his belly button, tongue flicking out briefly against his skin. “Seems reasonable to me.”
“Do you want me to fuck you, Agent?” he says, his voice dropping low.
“I mean, that’s what I was hinting at, yes,” you say.
His eyes are hooded as he gives you a sly, calculating smile. “But do you deserve to be fucked, Agent?”
Feeling a little bold, you place your palm flat against the substantial bulge in his boxer briefs, running your hand along the hard, thick length of him. Fuck, he’s big. “Yes,” you say.
“I’m not so sure about that,” he says, his expression and voice deliciously stern despite your hand on his cock. “You’ve been quite pert. Disobedient. Mouthy.”
You think you have an idea where this is going. “So am I getting punished or begging for you to forgive me?” you ask with a coy smile.
The hunger and delight in his gaze makes you ache. “Let’s see what your smart mouth can do to my cock and maybe then I’ll consider fucking you.”
You lick your lips and trace your fingertips along the sharp lines of his Adonis belt, pausing at the waistband of his boxer briefs. You hook your fingertips under the elastic and pull them down.
His cock springs free as the fabric falls to the floor. Between sitting on his lap and the unsubtle nature of the boxer briefs, you knew he was long and thick, but you’re still not fully prepared to experience the full effect of seeing his cock be hard and ready for you.
“Fuck,” you breathe. You take a moment to admire him, despite the fact that you know it’s likely only inflating his ego. 
“Do you want me, Agent?” he drawls with a lazy smile. “Do you want my cock?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” you say. “In fact, I’m certain you do.”
“Perhaps I like hearing you say it,” he says, bringing one hand up to stroke your cheek. “Would that be such a terrible thing?”
Impulsively, you get to your feet and pull him into a kiss. You can still taste yourself on him—salty and a little sweet.
“You like hearing me talk about how I want you?” you say, pressing your hips against his.
“Very much.” His voice is a low purr and you shiver in his arms.
“I’m aching for you to fill me,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss him. “I’m dripping just thinking about it.” You nip at his lower lip and he groans against your mouth. “But first, I want to get on my knees and worship your perfect cock with my mouth.”
There's a low, pleased rumble deep in his chest and you shiver as you draw away. “Sit down.”
He sits down on the foot of the bed and you position yourself in front of him, standing between his spread thighs and lowering yourself to your knees. You run your hands up his thighs, lightly dragging your fingernails along his skin, enjoying the slight hitch in his breath. You kiss the inside of his left knee and slowly make your way up the inside of his left thigh, dragging your tongue along his skin every so often. You continue this all the way up to the crease where his thigh meets his hip, close enough that he can feel the heat of your breath on his beautiful cock.
And then you lean back and begin the same process again on his right leg.
“What,” he says, his voice going deep and dark, “did I say about playing games, Agent?”
You tilt your head to look up at him. He’s staring down at you with a stern look that makes your cunt clench.
“You know, I came so hard earlier, I can’t quite recall,” you say, making your eyes as wide and innocent as you can.
“And if you want to come again tonight, you’ll find a way to remember,” he says. He’s stern and authoritative, and it’s ridiculously hot. “Now put that smart mouth to work on my cock,” he growls.
“Yes, sir.” The phrase just sort of slips out, but the way it makes your cunt ache and his eyes glitter is absolutely delicious.
“Oh, I like those manners, pet,” he purrs. “I want to hear more of that.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, pausing to lick your lips, “sir.”
“Good girl.”
His cock is flushed and so hard it presses up against his stomach. You wrap one hand around his shaft and you suck in a breath when your fingers don’t quite meet. He’s huge and the thought of having him inside of you makes you shiver and ache in anticipation.
You stroke him once and lower your mouth to the tip of his cock, placing gentle, closed mouth kisses on it.
He tolerates this for about thirty seconds.
“Agent.” His voice is laced with warning. “I won’t warn you again.”
Your lips curl into a slight smile and you flick your tongue against the tip of his cock, savoring the sharp tang of his pre-come. His eyes glitter down at you, still watching, waiting for you to disobey him.
“Am I not allowed to savor this experience?” you ask, intentionally licking your lips.
“I would urge you to consider that only good girls get to come on my cock, darling,” he says, his voice going dark and deliciously stern. “Choose your next moves wisely.”
The reality is that you desperately want to come on his cock and you wouldn’t put it past him to deny you. So, you offer him a sly smirk before you slowly begin to lick the tip of his cock, gradually opening your lips and bringing him into your mouth.
He groans softly. “You just need a firm hand, don’t you?” he says as you begin to move your head, stroking his shaft in a slow rhythm. His fingers card through your hair as he leans back on one hand, allowing himself to relax a little. “Or perhaps it’s that you want my cock more than you want to be a brat.”
You look up at him and raise an eyebrow. He’s not wrong.
He laughs low in his throat. “Oh, I think I’m going to  have you taking my orders by the time the week is up.” He reaches out to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “You have such a needy little cunt and I rather think that will prove to be an advantage for me.”
Your instinct is to let out a low whine, but you also don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You can’t fully stop yourself from reacting, though, and a soft whimper makes its way out of your lips.
He catches this and smirks. “You like being mouthy and talking back, but I think you also crave a little discipline. Being told what to do gets you off, doesn’t it?”
This time, you do whine and he smiles down at you, eyes hooded. “That works out rather nicely,” he says, his voice dropping deep, “because I quite enjoy giving orders.”
You shiver and he notices, running his fingers through your hair.
“Filthy girl,” he purrs. “We’re going to have so much fun together.” He watches you for a minute, eyes hooded, lips slightly parted. “You’re gorgeous like this, too, you know,” he says. “On your knees with my cock in your mouth like a good girl. I could watch this for hours.” You glance up at him and catch his lazy smile. “Though,” he continues, “I suspect you’ll also look gorgeous riding my cock. Or perhaps spread out and tied to the bed.”
This image is too much for you: a high pitched whine makes its way out of your throat before you can think better of it.
“Oh, you like that idea?” he says, not sounding very surprised at all. “You like the thought of being bound and completely at my mercy?”
Another embarrassing whine escapes you before you can stop it.
“We’ll have to explore that some time this week,” he says. “Though I am starting to develop a rather lengthy list of things I want to do to you.”
Fuck. You are caught between wanting him to keep talking and wanting him to shut up so you stop making such embarrassing noises.
Admittedly, the idea of making him feel so good that you render him speechless is also incredibly appealing.
You suck just a little harder, cheeks hollowing as you start running your tongue along the underside of his shaft, swirling it on the tip as you come up.
His eyebrows draw together, his lips parting slightly. “Fuck. That’s it.”
You pick up your pace just a little and he groans, his hand going to grip your hair.
“Yes—just like that.” His grip tightens on your hair. “If your cunt is even half as good as your mouth—fuck, yes, right there—I’m going to have a hard time leaving this room this week.”
You hum against his cock and he groans, his hips starting to rock toward your mouth. “Do you like this?” he asks, his voice husky. “Do you like being on your knees for me?”
You moan against his cock, sucking harder.
“You do, don’t you?” he says, his voice a little unsteady. “Barely an hour and you’re already such a slut for my cock.”
You moan again, bobbing your head up and down his length.
“Such a good girl,” he purrs. “A bit of a brat to start, but I think I’m going to have to reward you for this. Your mouth is too fucking good.”
Another moan slips past your lips. He groans and is quiet for a minute or two, his hips rocking toward you.
His breath is coming in shaky gasps now. “I’m close, love,” he says, his fingers flexing in your hair. “I’m going to spill myself in your pretty mouth and then I’m going to fuck you into the mattress.”
You can’t help but moan, which seems to spur him on. His lips part and you can almost feel how close he is.
He makes the most beautiful noise as he comes, a low groan that seems to reverberate in your cunt as he empties himself into your mouth. You swallow his release greedily as you continue stroking him, your head moving up and down his length.
You pull off of him slowly, licking your lips and you look up at him, your mouth curling into a smirk. “So, was that a proper enough apology for you?” you ask.
He growls low in his chest, eyes opening to look down at you. “You are still far too pert for your own good,” he says. “I suspect I’m going to have to put you over my knee at some point this week. You need discipline.”
You suck in a deep breath as your cunt clenches at the possibility.
“But right now, I need to fuck you.” He gestures to the bed. “Get up here. Now.”
You don’t need any encouragement to follow this command, but the way that he delivers the order and the way his green eyes get all steely is enough for more slickness to collect between your legs. You clamber to your feet, but before you can even try getting on the bed, he’s pulling you to him and flipping you onto your back. He rolls on top of you, caging you in with his body, his impossibly hard cock throbbing against your stomach.
He kisses you, tongue pressing into your mouth, hungry and claiming. “Do you want me inside you?” he purrs against your lips. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
“I need you to fuck me,” you say, spreading your legs and tilting your pelvis up toward him. “I want you to claim me.”
His smile is sharp and he drags the tip of his cock along your cunt, coating himself in your slickness. “Still so fucking wet,” he growls.
“I told you I need you,” you murmur.
He lines himself up at your entrance and ever so slowly begins easing into you. He presses forward, inch by glorious inch, until his hips are flush against yours.
“Oh fuck,” you breathe. “You feel so good.”
He smiles and withdraws just an inch or two before pressing back in. You arch underneath him and let out a soft moan.
“How about that? Is that good?” he asks.
You moan and nod.
He repeats the action. “And this?”
You offer up another moan and he grins. He repeats the action again, clearly teasing you. “What about this one?”
“Loki, please—”
“What is it darling?”
You’re not quite sure if you want to kiss or slap that smirk right off his face.
“Please don’t stop, please—”
“Oh, you want me to keep doing this?” he says, his brow furrowing in mock confusion. “You should have said something.”
“Loki, please—”
He chuckles quietly and begins rocking his hips against yours in slow, shallow thrusts. You sigh and wrap your legs around his waist, meeting his mouth as he kisses you. You can tell he’s holding back, though.
“I’m not going to break,” you finally say, tilting your hips to rock with his. “I want more. I want you to fuck me.”
He kisses you hard and his thrusts lengthen and deepen, his pace increasing just a hair, and you cry out because he’s now hitting that soft, sweet spot and he feels even better.
“You’re taking me so well, darling,” he says. “This snug little cunt was made for my cock, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” you breathe, arching your back. “Fuck, that’s so good.”
He wraps those long fingers around your ankles and brings your legs up so that they are draped over his shoulders, your body folded in half. He thrusts again and his cock presses even deeper, rubbing against that tender spot inside you. His thumb finds your clit and you whimper. Pressure is starting to build in your hips again.
“You’re getting close already, aren’t you?” he rasps, grinning at you like a devil. “I can feel you starting to tremble.”
You keen, your cunt clenching around his steadily thrusting cock.
“Are you going to be a good girl and come on my cock?” he growls.
You nod, words somewhere beyond you.
“I want you to soak my cock,” he purrs. “Let it all out. Scream for me.”
You feel yourself poised on the edge. So close.
“Come for me, darling, that’s it, let go, come for me, let me feel that sweet cunt milk me dry…”
You arch your back as your orgasm blossoms and unfurls. The sound that falls from your lips is a high pitched keening that would be Loki’s name, except there’s no space for anything besides this incredible feeling, his cock inside you, and the weight of him on top of you.
“Oh there you go, that’s it,” he murmurs. “You have the tightest, most exquisite cunt. I could fuck you for days.”
You moan, shuddering in the final throes, your cunt spasming around his thick cock. He withdraws for a moment and you moan at the loss, but he quickly flips you onto your stomach and slides right back inside you.
From this angle, his cock thrusts even deeper, pressing more directly against your G-spot. A few strokes in and it becomes glaringly apparent to you that you’re going to come again.
“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” he pants, thrusting hard into you. “I can feel you starting to tremble already.”
You moan into the comforter, arching your back so he hits that spot again.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you up so your back is flush against his chest. “I want to hear every filthy little sound that you make. Every. Last. One.” He thrusts in time with those last three words and you moan.
“You love this, don’t you?” he growls, his hips thrusting hard. “You love me taking you from behind like a fucking animal.”
Your legs are shaking and you can feel your orgasm building. “Loki, I’m gonna come again,” you whimper.
“I know you are, sweet girl,” he growls. “I can feel your tight cunt trembling.” His free hand slides between your legs, fingers rolling over your clit in the same rhythm as his thrusting cock.
Your breath stutters and a low whine escapes your lips. You are deliciously close.
“Please.” Your voice is barely a gasp. You’re riding the very edge of that wave and it feels so good that you’re almost certain the oncoming climax couldn’t possibly feel better. Almost.
“Oh, you’re almost there, love, you can do it,” says Loki, his hand still moving with his hips. “You just need to let go.”
You whimper. You are almost there.
“Be my good girl and let go for me,” he rasps. “Come for me.”
It breaks quite suddenly, your whole body shuddering and your cunt clamping down hard on his cock as you come. The noise you make is animalistic, torn from somewhere deep in your chest.
“Fuck!” Loki is fucking you hard, hips pistoning against your ass. “So fucking tight, you’re like a vise when you come, fuck—” His speech gives way into either Asgardian or Old Norse—you’re not quite sure which, but the idea that you’ve made him feel good enough to abandon English is incredibly appealing.
You’re dreamily floating back down from your high when you hear him make that beautiful noise again, that low, deep groan that falls from his lips only when he comes. You feel his release flood your cunt, hot and thick, as his hips finally start to slow.
It’s another minute or two before he rolls off you, flopping down next to you on the bed. Before you even have a moment to miss him or the comforting weight of his body on yours, he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.
You both lie there for a long moment, catching your breath.
You think back to your initial meeting with Fury, when you complained about being sent in with Loki. You’ve never been more pleased to be wrong in your entire life.
“So,” you say once you feel capable of speech, “you said you had some ideas for the rest of the week?”
If you thought his grin was devilish before, it’s nothing compared to what he looks like now as he pulls you on top of him.
“Darling,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “I thought you’d never ask.”
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earthtooz · 8 months ago
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gn!reader, domesticity with aventurine, inspired by his latest art, reader calls aventurine 'good boy', unedited i wrote this bc im weak
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"Alright. I understand. Let's schedule the interview for today."
It's bright. Too bright. The sun is in your eyes, what a rude way to be awakened.
Behind you, you hear the velvety voice of your lover and the indistinct chatter from the person you suspect he is calling. It is no strange occurrence for Aventurine to be on a call first thing in the morning, some business partner or boss of his ringing his phone before he can even roll out of bed.
At this point, you've grown too accustomed to it, so you merely roll over and wrap your arm around him, curling in to his side.
You don't get to see the smile on his face, but you can hear it in his voice as an arm of his wraps itself around you.
"I'll be there in an hour tops. Before then, try not to bother me too much." Aventurine hangs up the call, throwing his phone to the side and placing a kiss to the top of your head. "Good morning, pretty."
"Good morning, handsome," you murmur into the expensive silk of his sleepwear, sneaking your hand under the soft fabric to draw small hearts on the side of his ribs. "Do you need to leave?"
"I have some time beforehand. How'd you sleep?"
"Good. Want some more time with you, though."
You finally look up at him, perching yourself onto your elbow to meet his alluring gaze. Here, he admires the subtle ways sleep clings to your expression, the way you yawn and rub your eyes- oh, how fortunate he is to get to wake up beside you everyday.
"Shame, you should probably get up soon."
"Are you trying to kick me out?" He whines. "We still have a few minutes before I really need to get up."
You laugh affectionately and it's music to Aventurine's ears. "Last time you said that you were late by a considerable amount of time. Come on, the IPC needs you."
He sighs before rolling over, encasing you in his embrace. "The IPC can cry about it, I care about you more."
"How cute," you whisper before pressing a kiss on the space between his eyebrows, your action causing him to scrunch his nose. "But still, why don't I go prepare some breakfast for us?"
Aventurine grumbles something incoherent, but judging by the way his arms tighten around you, he's much prefers your current situation. "Can I get a kiss?"
You press one to the corner of his mouth and he scoffs. "That was nothing, give me a proper one."
"Only good boys get what they want," you reprimand.
"Pretty please?"
You smile before leaning in to gently slot your lips with his and Aventurine's heart skips a beat. It's an uncomfortable sensation but he's become accustomed to it, even falling in love with it. He'll fall in love with anything as long as it's you, even the vulnerable sensation of being helplessly devoted to another person.
It's perfect, if he could stay like this forever, he would.
You're perfect, he wants you to be by his side forever.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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fortheb0ys · 9 months ago
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FUCK ME LIKE THE MEN BETWEEN THOSE PAGES
Bottom John Price x Top Male Reader
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Just Price brain rot🤤 I've always wanted to a model for MLM porn sites ngl so I'm living through this fic🙏 As usual not proofread :)
FEM ALIGNED + MINORS DNI
Prices would be one of those faceless models for those erotic gay romance novels. All his work would be faceless. Just something he did to make money on the side.
It was a secret that was long forgotten. Memories replaced by his military service. His body more scarred than his younger self's. His own books but they were just collecting dust in a box.
When you got together, you had found one of the books Price had forgotten that was on a shelf. Your eyes grew wide as you noiced it was Price's shirtless body on the front cover. A small mole on his left hip was telltale that it was him.
Flipping the book over and reading the synopsis reveals the dirty content of it. All the colour washes from Price's face as he sees what you have in your hand.
Price was about to open his mouth to quickly deny it but saw your giddy excitement. Though Price felt a bit shameful, he told you that there was more. A lot more.
With much hesitation from him and a whole lot more convincing from you, Price lent you the books. His amazing body on every single one of them. A new scar here and there as the
He had been surprised that you never poked fun at him and that you were genuinely interested in his past works.
You'd admit that the sex scenes depicted were the main thing that got you interested. You'd imagine Price vividly as the characters he model on the front covers. It didn't take long for you to read through the lot of them.
When Price would be on deployment, he'd get a text from you.
Cum on the front cover or on the pages. Or others with your erect cock slotted like a bookmark between the pages with the dirtiest scenes, precum dripping onto the sheets.
You'd send worded texts underneath the photo like "Try these with me?" or "What if were we the ones to do this?"
Price hated himself for showing you the books right before the mission, making the wait painfully long.
Sexualy frustrated and slightly pissed he had to wait for his deployment to end, Price would have a lonely wank in his barracks. His fingers didn't feel right. His fantasies never felt like details in the books. Nothing felt like you.
Once he got back, Price had to fight back a boner as the anticipation took over him. He went through countless cigars trying to get his mind on something else. The 141 Boys knew something was up. Soap had to control the intrusive thoughts to ask if you were waiting naked when Price returned home.
Which he wasn't wrong. The moment Price came through that door he was already painfully hard. Before he could even open his mouth to greet you, you were on him like a fly to honey, attacking his neck with bruising kisses. Whispering the dirty dialog from one of the books made Price weak in the knees.
Thus was the beginning of your roleplay sex.
Your playtime is always different. Numerous scenarios with one thing in common: Mind blowing sex.
Price would play a royal guard, and you, the prince. A prince in a loveless engagement to a princess. A guard pleading loyalty as he rides the prince on the royal throne.
A grade slipping college student fucking his teacher in an empty classroom for extra credit. Blowjows underneath desks replaces the outdated method of study and paying attention to lectures.
A hunter who falls in love with a werewolf he's supposed to kill. The wolf is just a dumb puppy who needs to be told what to do. With a collar around his neck, ready to be tugged at and the willingness to please his master, puppy soon becomes skilled at lapping at master's hole.
A rowdy rockstar and his stressed out manager. The musician needing to burn off the adrenaline after the show and the poor management needing the stress fucked out of him. The real show was played backstage. The manager put on quite the proformance, his deep moans sounded much better than your singing.
A sex therapist that prefers to take on a more hands-on approach. That skilled tongue was used more than just giving advice.
Or lastly, a priest beguiled by a gorgeous sinner. Guilt was all he felt but it felt like true heaven. God would forgive any sin if he showed true repentance, right? Wouldn't Jesus have died for nothing if we didn't sin?
Sure, some where terrible written and some were written by women with a fetish for gay men. Seeing you act out the scenes without missing a beat or breaking out into laughter while you quoted the dirtiest and most ridiculous things.
You'd remember every dirty word uttered. Every scenario memorized. Price was starting to understand what those white women on TikTok saw in those fucking books. It was just too bad they couldn't live it out like he could.
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cloudyzeusy · 3 months ago
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Hey, I recently wandered across your page and I had to indulge.
I was wondering if you could do a sukuna x Dom!(Obviously) Reader - where sukuna's been a bitch all day just to be alone with reader and gets his guts rearranged? It's okay if not, have a good day :pp <3
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I narrowed my eyes watching Sukuna walk past all confidently like nothing was wrong to our bedroom. "I'm so sorry Gojo for his behaviour he must be getting close to his heat. "I apologized smiling lightly though this was expected behavior from him. But ever since we mated he had been less and less bitchy.
"It's all good I was naive to believe his good attitude would last for long, and don't worry I'll give you guys some time off I expect you guys will be busy for a while." He laughed and I smiled I saw Gojo and Geto at the door and immediately made my way upstairs.
"What was all that attitude about downstairs." I glared at him but he didn't falter.
"I don't know what you mean." He shrugged looking away and I moved closer to where he sat on the bed smelling his scent spike.
"You don't ? what a shame I was just going to let you apologize and we can have some fun by guess not." I teased him watching his face fall. "I guess I'll have to call up Nanami."
" That's not fair ! You've been gone for two weeks and then as soon as you come back you invite stupid Gojo over." And that's when it clicked for me my omega had missed me a lot. I grinned and pulled him so he was sitting on my lap.
"I'm sorry 'Kuna I should have known not to invite Gojo and Geto over this close to your heat. "I apologize kissing him on the lips before moving down to his neck. I lifted his shirt up gripping his waist as he moaned on top of me I pulled away to let us undress.
I threw him on the bed and watch his eyes glaze over as I forced him into heat with my pheromones intertwining ours together. I moved my fingers down to his cunt and began to finger him his slick already coating my fingers as he panted.
I pulled them out and stared at him smiling wolfishly as I licked my fingers clean making him shudder. " Ugh [name] that's so gross."
"Gross? Anything that comes from you tastes amazing." I said. " Come on sit on my face." I offered but he shook his head vigorously.
"I'm too heavy though." He said looking nervous at my suggestion.
"Baby I could literally throw you around your the perfect size." I reassured him and he climbed on top he hovered for a bit over my mouth holding himself up nervous. Before I pulled him down to meet my tongue making him let out a squeal.
I began eating him out like I was starving - messily . Leaving now where untouched as he basically rode me. As he came on my tongue I licked him clean. He laid limp and I pulled him off me.
I pulled out my dick as he was already grabbing me ready for another orgasm. I teased him rubbing my head in his cunt. Before pushing it all in at once making him squeeze against me. "Fuck you feel so good around me." I groaned thrusting in and out getting accustomed to the tightness. No matter how much I fucked him he was he always so tight.
I kept fucking him fast hitting his prostate forcing moans out of him.
"You're squeezing me so tight baby. I can feel your walls rippling around me. You gonna cum on my cock again." I smirked down at him he couldn't even focus due to the pleasure.
"Y-yes please let me cum." He cried out as I slithered a hand to his throat choking him lightly.
"But I haven't heard cum yet." I said and he got the hint that I wasnt letting him cum till I did.
"A-alpha I can't I need to cum." He begged.
"Hm I would have thought I trained you better than that? Has your heat gotten to your head to think you 'need' anything that I'm not giving you." I said cruelly still drilling into him. He whimpered at my words.
"You feel that that's how deep I am." I said moving his hand to touch my bulge in him. I threw my head back as I felt myself get close to orgasming I began slowing down the pace. Slowly fucking him as I came in him pulling out before I could knot him.
"Alpha.. knot?" He whined begging me and I had to physically hold back. We had three more days to go I couldn't be tired by the first.
"We've got alot of time ahead of us don't worry." I smirked pulling Sukuna into another kiss .
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luveline · 1 year ago
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is there any way we could get badass!reader x spencer? except he’s injured this time? how does she react?
tysm ♡ cw hospital / gunshot wounds. 1.1k
"You have to let me see him." 
"It's family only," the nurse says, shrugging sympathetically. 
You grit your teeth. "That's what I'm telling you, I am his family. We've been together for four months." 
"Sorry. Unless you're blood related or his next of kin, I can't let you." 
"Spencer's next of kin is in a sanitarium in Las Vegas. I don't understand why you can't let me see him." You're trying not to shout at her, rage trembling in your aching fingers. "I understand that it's night time, and that he was admitted alone, but he was shot, he's not sick, and I can't make him worse. Please. You have to let me see him." 
When begging doesn't work, you get mean. You'd be ashamed to admit you flashed your badge if it weren't for the fact that you have no shame when it comes to Spencer. Face flushed with heat from a good twenty minutes yelling, a different nurse escorts you to Spencer's room. 
"I expect my colleagues will be arriving soon," you say. "And I expect they'll be met with less resistance." 
The nurse smiles at you, as fake as they come, but you don't deserve a real one. You don't care. Breaking rules and bending policies means nothing to you while Spencer's laying alone in a hospital bed. 
His heart monitor beeps steadily. He's sleeping, waxy face crushed sideways into a limp pillow, his stomach a lump under the sheets where he's been wrapped. He was alone when it happened —no one, BAU or otherwise, knows who did it or why. The hospital didn't know who Spencer was until he woke up after surgery and told them himself. 
And you'd been sitting at home feeling sorry for yourself (and vaguely irritated) because he didn't answer your text that morning. 
It's not hard being vulnerable with Spencer. He's your widely known soft spot, and you're unashamed. But it felt like a mistake, constantly checking to see if he'd answered your text. Good morning, I know we're supposed to see each other tomorrow but do you want to come over and watch movies tonight? Let me know had felt like I'm pathetic and in love with you and my day revolves around when you're free.
None of that matters now. In fact, it's all embarrassingly small. 
You creep up beside his bed and reach out tentatively. His hair falls out of his face with the barest of touches. He's had blood wiped poorly from his cheek, orangey streaks lining his jaw. His undereyes are dark like he hasn't eaten for days, his veins spider legs stark against his eyelids. 
You put your hand on his cheek, rubbing it lightly. "I'm sorry it took me so long," you say, leaning down to kiss his forehead.  
Spencer stirs, a groan rumbling from the centre of his chest. 
"I thought that was you," he mumbles, his fingers brushing your elbow. 
"When?" you ask. 
"You were yelling." 
Yeah, well. You need to be disruptive sometimes. "They wouldn't let me in." You're not a big crier, just seeing him like this, knowing he was alone and probably scared, it has tears pricking. "Spencer, I'm so sorry." 
"Hey." He clears his throat, your emotion starting him into wakefulness. "Hey, don't get upset. It's okay. It bounced off of me–" You groan and he laughs, though he grabs your elbow quickly after. "Ouch. Don't make me laugh." 
"I didn't say anything." You pet his face. He looks pretty even when he's in a bad way. Your chest is a pit. 
"It barely touched me. They said my feminine hips saved my life." 
"Stop trying to make me laugh," you say pleadingly. 
Spencer holds your gaze. "Stop looking so sad and I'll stop."
"Are you hurting?" you ask. You know you sound awful, a scared tone that he's never heard from you before, and you try to tamp it down as a lone tear breaks free, streaking down your cheek. "How's your pain? I can make them give you more–" 
"I know you can. I'm fine now you're here." 
You lean down to kiss the tip of his pert nose. Careful, you kiss his lips, enthused when he kisses up. "I'll take care of everything," you promise. 
The door opens behind you. You give Spencer a last squeeze and find Emily in the entrance with a bag pressed to her chest, her hair windblown, shocked with worry. 
"Spencer," she says, rushing forward to hug him. 
He's in a hospital bed and still insists on comforting her as he'd done you, arms threaded over her shoulders. "Hey. I'm fine." 
"Morgan and Garcia want to be here," she assures him, standing straight. "They're trying to keep the site clean. Spencer, what the hell happened?" 
You drag a chair to his bed and sit on his right. You don't take his hand, he doesn't offer it, but the longer his story goes, the closer you find yourself. "I didn't even realise they were following me," he's saying. Emily nods with Hotch on the phone, listening intently, repeating anything Hotch misses. 
You know you should be strong. Brave. You should be paying attention to his every word, ready to take the rains and solve the case, serve retribution against whoever it is that thought they could hurt him, but Spencer looks so tired. You can't imagine being anywhere that isn't his side right now. A blood bag fills at his side, a catheter runs under the bed, an IV line feeding pain medication and fluids into him mottled the skin on the inside of his wrist with bruise. Sometimes you have to stay put.  
Emily hugs you before she leaves. You hug back. 
"If I knew getting hurt would make you accept love from your friends, I would've done it sooner," Spencer says. 
"If you ever get hurt like this again, I'll never speak to you," you say, bringing his arm to your lips and pressing a kiss to the crook of his elbow. 
"Sorry for scaring you." 
You lay your cheek on his arm, looking up at him through your eyelashes. "That's okay. That's fine. Wasn't your fault." 
Spencer drops his chin to his chest. "Do I look bad from this angle?" 
"No. You look just as nice as you always do." Your throat burns with sincerity. You might cry again. 
Spencer nods like he's reading something else from what you've said. It's not that you'd meant to imply a double meaning, but he must see on your face how relieved you are, and how terrified you'd been. He brings his hand to your face, ignoring his cannula, to wipe the dried tears from your lashes. "You look pretty, too," he says. "Just don't cry anymore." 
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queermikewheelertruther · 4 months ago
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Imagine if the guns shot above our heads and then like we kissed as though nothing could fall and the shame was on the other side
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jayswhorex · 5 months ago
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dick grayson's hands rested on your hips, feeling the thin fabric of the leather mini-skirt you had been dying to try on, "i dunno sweetheart it's pretty short" he says, laying his head on your shoulder. your giggles fill the dressing room as you try and admire the piece of fabric hugging your thighs. here you both stood in the changing of one of your favorite shopping centers in gotham.
you had asked dick if he could shopping with you and the man had no problem taking you out. the two of you were close friends, so this was nothing out of the ordinary other than the fact that the man was glued to him, even with you inside the changing room. he told himself that was just going to help you change, there was no shame in that right? but all those thoughts dispersed once you had answered his question "but it's kinda cute right, i need one for my date tonight?"
and there it was, the brief silence between you two that made it seem like there could be something more. any man with an ounce of shame or maybe some decency would've let go of you by now but instead, he gently began to kiss your neck as if what you just said hadn't fazed him. "date tonight? can't you skip it f'me doll?" he pleaded in a quiet tone, his hand now scrunching up the letter skirt and lifting it "dickie-"
he cuts you off with a firm squeeze of your hips, you could feel his body pressing against yours, his harden crotch pressing up against your thin stockings. you didn't have the will to push him away and to be honest, you didn't want to. "what? you can always reschedule" his kisses found a way to your shoulder "and if he's upset by that, then he knows he wasn't worth it" a small part of you found that to be a bit sweet but another part you remembered that dick knew exactly what to say to get you in bed and he was doing it right now "that's- that's not the point dick"
"when did he ask you out anyway," he asked trying not to lose his compromise, you were his friend there was no reason to lose his composure over this but fuck that he had all the reason to. "like about 2 weeks ago when you had to go back to blüdhaven for work," he thought in his own little way you and him were…something at least. and it wasn't the first time he'd ask for you to skip dates for him and it definitely was the first time he'd touch you like this and you knew it wouldn't be the last.
"so what about me?" dick's rough hands slyly moved to cup your ass, giving you a firm squeeze and without even giving you time to recover and be quickly reacher for your face forcing you to look at him through the mirror "m'not enough now?"
"dickie that's not what i mean"
"no i get it, i leave and you get a bit lonely" he teases, pressing his clothed cock again your thin stockings. a groan slips from his lips, feeling your ass against his cock. the two you had practically forgotten you were in a public changing room but that would back to bite you at a later time. watching from the mirror, you take in the image of dick unbuckling his belt. and his pants & boxers fall to his ankles. he takes his sweet time as he pulls down your stockings, watching you waiting patiently "you missed me, didn't you babe?"
you turned to face away but again he made you look at him, "yes, i missed you dickie" and with those words, dick held and waist and gently pushed into you, his hips rocking slowly, trying to find a rhythm. you held in your moans, but the few that did slip out were not intended. though they did give dick a bit more of an incentive.
you placed your hands on both sides of the mirror trying not to lose your balance as he thrusted in and out of you. one hand focused on making you look at the other the other, thumb stroking your clit. this was the worst part about sleeping with dick grayson. the more you let the bot fuck you, the harder it is to move on each time. "dickie please, a little harder, s'not enough"
"don't forget where we are sweetheart, there only so much i can do with making any noise" you huffed in frustration but you could tell dick himself was struggling not to let any groans but god you were so warm and tight, and even if he didn't make any noise, he was surely going to make a mess of you. he leaned in towards your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses on the neck, he wasn't going to leave any marks not yet at least. those were for later, if you were going to stay with him "if you skip that date tonight-"
"dickie i don't wanna talk about him right now" through the thrusts and slaps of skin that filled the room, dick heard you loud and clear. out of reflex, he lifted your left leg for a deeper angle, a position he knew you feverishly enjoyed. you didn't exactly take pleasure in telling him what you wanted him to do so always took it upon himself to do what he knew you needed. and you knew no other guy would replace him and he knew it too and he wouldn't let you believe that.
and just like that your phone rings, while dick grayson is balls deep inside you, fucking you in a public changing room for crying out loud and you're getting a goddamn phone call and before you have a chance to decline it, dick answers it and you just know you're absolutely fucked. but dick hips don't falter for even a second, he continues to fuck you against the mirror, with not even a hint of remorse laced in his voice.
"ahh no sorry, y/n is a little bit busy right now"
"how about she calls you tomorrow?"
"a date tonight? well i don't think i'll be done with her by then…"
his hand let go of your face and instead gripped your hip tightly, a shameless groan leaves his lips, as his cock slips in and out of your folds at a vigorous pace. your nails dug into your palm as you bit your lip, holding in the moans that threatened to escape. dick had no problem letting your little date on the other end hear him enjoy the hell out of fucking you senseless. a part of you felt embarrassed by the way he was acting but another part of you was feeling too good for you to really care. the both of you were reaching your high, and all took was his next words and you came undone in a second, "gonna fill you right up doll"
you the line cut off and instead of being enraged, you were very much relieved. at least you didn't have to stand up to another guy or dump them due to dick being a "cocky asshole", those were tim's words really but to be fair they weren't exactly wrong. he attention averted back to you once he put your phone down whilst he was still cumming inside you, a mixture of both your fluids seeping down your thighs.
"still need to buy that leather skirt?" he asked with a sadistic smirk spread across his face, he still had you trapped between him and the mirror. "it's not like you're busy tonight, right?"
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