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benkeibear · 6 months ago

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『 Popping your cherry 』

☼ synopsis: Nanami was patient until you were ready, giving you a night full of pleasure and taking your virginity in a gentle way

☼ character: Nanami

☼ wc: 4.3k (oops)

☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no dynamics, soft sex, oral (reader giving and receiving), fingering, squirting, pussy job, creampie, lots of pet names, consent checks, gentle aftercare, slight body worship

☼ notes: I promised @kentophilia to repost one of my fave pieces 🥹

Nanami has been nothing but kind and patient with you ever since you two met, sure he had his moments where he snapped at you due to stress at his work but you never took it to heart, almost feeling bad that you didn't quite know how to help him since he always brushed you off before he would say something he regrets and you gave him the desired space. He would always come back to you after a long and hot shower, muscles relaxed, his mood way better.

It wasn't until you happened to walk past his big bathroom when he took one of these showers when you found out what was really going on. Through the noise of the water hitting the tiled floor you could hear soft groans, followed by a few mumbled words… Was he masturbating?

Your hand gently knocked against the closed door before you could stop it from happening, a few grumbles to be heard from the inside of the room. “It's open!” He called out mere seconds later, his thick shaft still resting heavy in his palm, body hidden away behind the steamed glass of the shower. Swiftly you entered the bathroom and went straight for the shower, your clothes falling in a trail as you approached your lover. “May I join?” You called out slightly hesitant, your cheeks heating up at the thought of seeing him like this for the first time, but silence filled the room until he eventually spoke a small “Yes”, unable to resist you any longer. Nanami wanted to take things slow with you, knowing you're inexperienced so he waited for you to make a move, to give a sign that you want him as much as he wants you - he was craving you, the image of your body clad in the beautiful sundress you wore once stuck in his head and leaving little space for imagination what your body beneath might look like. The thought of you was his sweet salvation and his downfall late at night when he couldn't sleep or during the day when he couldn't focus. Only you.

After taking a deep and shaky breath you opened the milky glass door of the shower, steam clouding your vision for mere seconds before it evaporated enough to see your lover standing in front of you, not daring to look down where you saw his cock standing proudly in the corner of your eyes.

Noticing how you seemed to be frozen to the spot, Nanami tried to cover his manhood with his large hands, his eyes staying respectfully on your face, not once wandering. “Changed your mind?” He asked with a soft voice, not a hint of pressure behind his words, just curiosity, but you quickly shook your head no to let him know that you did not change your mind. With a careful step you joined the blonde man in the shower, hot water cascading down your figure yet his eyes remained trained on your face.

“Warm enough?” He asked caring, his voice soft as silk when he spoke which seemed to calm your breath a little. “It could be a bit warmer… if you don't mind,” you mumble, feeling a little awkward for intruding on him during such a private moment and now you just stand around in front of him, fidgeting nervously with your hands while he reached out to the faucet, brushing past the soft skin of your arm which you had draped over your chest in a rather shy manner. This simple touch alone left your skin to erupt with goosebumps and your eyes wandered over his strong arms, ending at his chest before you looked to the dark tiled wall once more, the rippling muscles beneath his skin embedded in your brain now. “You don't have to be so reserved. I'm your partner after all,” he pointed out lightly, not minding your eyes on him and as much as he wanted to just push you against the wall and take you, he remained patient and caring. He knew this was a rather big step for you to take already and he didn't want to scare you with anything, but you simply nodded, unsure arms wrapping around his torso in a gentle hug.

Nanami held back a chuckle upon this sweet and innocent gesture, holding you close to his body underneath the big rainshower, hot water cascading down both your bodies now. He would lie if he said that your soft skin and your perked nipples pressed against him in such an intimate way didn't affect him but his body betrayed him already - his erection twitching against your stomach and letting you feel just how badly he needed you. He cleared his throat and was ready to mumble out an apology for being inappropriate during such a delicate moment, but you looked up at him with a newfound hunger hidden behind your eyes.

Without hesitation the blonde man leaned down to capture your soft lips in a heated kiss, his tongue no stranger to your mouth as the kiss grew heated like oh so many times before. The butterflies were doing cartwheels in your stomach when his large hands reached down to hold your hips, pulling you impossibly close to his body in an effort to get you even closer until you had to break the kiss for air, his kisses traveling to your neck and it was evident that both of you yearned for more than just a makeout session.

By the time your hand stroked over his rock hard abs it was clear to him and he nodded almost breathless, craving the touch of your soft hand wrapped around his shaft for the first time and when you finally did he couldn't hold back a relieved groan. Nanami’s lips returned to yours once again as he guided your much smaller hand up and down the length of his cock, showing you just the way he liked it, but the way your hand barely managed to wrap around his girth left his head spinning, desperate to maintain focus when his hands crept over to your body once more. Calloused hands resting on your hip and just below your chest, your nodding of wordless consent was all he needed to let his hands travel further, one pulling you closer as the other started kneading your chest. “You're so beautiful, doll” he managed to rasp out as his kisses returned to your neck once more, his low moans and pants filling your senses as your hand worked on his length to help him get off.

Your soft whines didn't go unnoticed by him when he gently rolled your pebbled nipple between his thumb and index finger, his lips now trailing down to take care of your neglected breast, the warmth of his mouth engulfing one nipple while his fingers played with the other and you started to rub your thighs together in desperation. “Let me take care of you,” he mouthed against the soft flesh of your boobs and you could only nod, your hand working faster on him as his teeth tugged on your nipple ever so gently. He should have felt ashamed for being selfish, but your hands working on him got him off faster than his own ever could, thick ropes of cum painting your stomach and hands only to be washed away by the water right away, his head resting in the crook of your neck for a short moment, but before you knew it, his fingers were brushing against your thighs, begging for you to open up for him, which you did.

Skilled fingers caressed your inner thighs until he finally reached your core and just as he touched the part where you needed him most his sweet touch disappeared, a small chuckle vibrating through his chest which caught your attention. “We should take this to the bedroom, I want to take my time with you” he mumbled into your ear, his voice hoarse from how aroused he's gotten by the thought of finally claiming you as his entirely. You didn't need to answer him either, the way you turned off the water within a mere second was answer enough and he shook his head at how eager you seemed to be.

Leaving the warmth of the shower first, Nanami went to get a fresh towel for you, the soft fabric smelling like orchids and cotton, something you've started associating with him - with home. Just as he wrapped it around you, one hand stretched out to help you out of the shower and guided you to the bedroom you've been to a hundred times before. You should know the way by now but perhaps the towel that hung dangerously low on his hips, threatening to fall off, was all you could focus on. You were grateful for when he gently scooped you up into his strong arms, the hint of chest hair tickling your skin before you were placed onto the bed with utmost care.

Warm hands untucked the towel from around your body to reveal your beauty to him, your body entirely exposed but you didn't feel the need to cover up, his gaze letting the heat rush to your cheeks. He made you feel wanted, desired like you're the most beautiful woman on earth - and to him you were. You were perfect in every single way, almost feeling bad that he's about to ruin you like this but he craved to hear you whimper and whine for more, pawing at his sculpted body when he takes you past the edge, begging for him, pleading to fill you up - making you his entirely.

Of course he will take his sweet time until he is sure that you can handle him, the thought of hurting you made his heart clench and… he's been staring for too long, your sweet giggle filling his ears. You broke the shell of the stoic man, you could make him crawl to you if you'd only ask. He was fully devoted to you and your love, craving you, his body screaming for you in every way - it was almost scaring him but he was undoubtedly yours.

Kneeling down just in front of the bed he pulled your body closer, your beautiful legs now resting over his shoulders until your glistening folds were right in front of his face, his blonde hair tickling your thighs when he started pressing open mouthed kisses along your supple flesh. Minutes that felt like hours passed and you needed him, going crazy with how badly you yearned for his pleasure until your hands found their way into his silk like hair, pulling him towards your core with pleading eyes. “Patience, doll” he whispered, his warm breath fanning over your folds and eliciting goosebumps over your body. You've never had someone this close to your heat but it was Nanami - you had no reason to grow shy nor embarrassed over your feelings for him, his rock hard cock letting you know that he was equally eager for this.

His amber eyes held nothing but warmth in them when he pressed a kiss to the mound of your core, looking for any sign of discomfort in yours. “Yellow if it's too much, red if you need me to stop” his words cut the silence in the room, accompanied by the thumping of your heart now picking up, almost sounding like a war drum. You nodded, unable to form words in the anticipation laced with nervousness but it was enough for the man between your legs, trusting you to let him know if you weren't ready to go on and you knew he would never pressure you into anything.

Your eyes fluttered shut when you felt his kisses travel over your mound onto your folds until his thumbs ever so gently parted them, exposing your wetness to him. Unsure what to expect you gasped softly when the first kitten lick of his tongue brushed over your exposed clit, fingers digging into his scalp at the sensation. You could feel him smile at your reaction, his tongue traveling through your folds in a zigzag motion only to circle your bundle of nerves, alternating between gently flicking it with his tongue and sucking on it until you were helplessly bucking against his face, the pleasure washing over you which caught you entirely off guard with its intensity that you couldn't even warn your lover - but he knew.

Nanami's tongue kept playing with your clit until he heard the cry of his name leave your throat, begging him, for what you didn't even know yourself but the orgasm that followed was better than any you've given to yourself.

Allowing you to calm down, his tongue slowed down its assault on your sensitive nub only to travel further down, lapping up your arousal like a man starved. The slurping noises were lewd but you didn't want him to stop, neither when he pushed his tongue into your entrance, nor when his thumb came down to rub small circles at your overly sensitive clit. Nanami was entirely lost in your taste, eyes fluttering shut and breaking eye contact for a moment and it made you swoon, seeing how much he enjoyed this - how pleasing you was pleasing him. Your juices kept coating his tongue, followed by soft groans against your heat only for his tongue to leave your entrance and return to your clit once more.

“God. You're so addictive” he mumbled into you, the hand which rested on your thigh now joining his tongue, his index finger gently circling your entrance to gauge a reaction from you, seeing if you show any signs of it being too much, but you were babbling at this moment, cunt clenching around nothing when his tongue started his assault on your bundle of nerves once more. Nanami was certain that you needed this as much as he did, ever so gently pushing his finger into your untouched hole just to feel how tight you clench around him from the intrusion. Nodding you started grinding against his face and finger, needing him deeper, needing more and he heard you, briefly pulling his finger out of you before replacing it with his middle- and ringfinger. Your cunt sucked them in, almost struggling to accommodate his thick digits - the stretch much more than your fingers ever managed and when he curled them into your sweet spot it was over for you once again. A loud whine erupted from your throat as the squelching noises of your pussy grew in volume “Ke-Kento… too much!” You whimpered helplessly to get him to slow down but the second your sweet voice reached his ears a clear stream of liquid splashed out of you and against his tongue. His fingers slowed down the moment you begged for it but your orgasm already washed over you, legs shaking violently on his shoulders when he lapped up the juices that just squirted out of you.

Your ears were ringing as your lungs desperately tried to get air back into them, not even noticing how your lover was raking his hands over your thighs in a caring manner, absolutely mesmerized by you. He knew very well that your body was pushed past its boundaries so he wanted to stop or at least give you a break but you finally came back to your senses, your gaze still hungry despite looking utterly fucked out by just his tongue and fingers. “Don't stop… please,” you whimpered, begging him for more. Oh you little vixen, knowing exactly how to play his heartstrings - how is he supposed to deny you such a request when he could devour you whole?

A single kiss was pressed to your right thigh before he put it down onto the bed, shaking his head with a breathless chuckle when he caught a glimpse of your frown. “You're going to be the death of me, love” he mumbled amused, your left leg now lined up with his chest and shoulder as he stood between your thighs. The feeling of his cock resting just above your heat made you want to scream, the kiss that was placed upon your ankle provoked the smallest whimper to erupt out of you. “Please Kento,” You encouraged him, being entirely certain about going this step with him and he nodded, thumbs spreading your folds once more to get a view on how wet he got you, a small puddle forming underneath your ass on the bed and he deemed it good enough to drag his length through your cunt, slowly.

Nanami wouldn't last long if he made love to you now, far too riled up from all your moans, your taste and the way you squirted just from two of his fingers working their magic on you. “Ken… i need you” you begged, soft voice sounding strained now, almost desperate but he only picked up his pace slightly, his tip now nudging your clit just the right ways to have you mewling for him once again, hands digging into the bedsheets from how sensitive you were by now and it needed everything inside of him to not push his cock inside of you when he felt close.

You could feel the twitching of his shaft against your wet cunt, heavy balls clenching as he spilled his seed over your heat and lower stomach, his head thrown back while a guttural moan left his throat. You really were going to be the death of him - now he was certain. Seeing your little pussy covered in cum did things to him, eyes darkening when he dragged the head of his cock through your folds once again to collect your mixed juices, only stopping when he arrived at your entrance. One last time his eyes wandered up your body to rest on your half closed eyes, looking so tired but so happy at the same time.

Nanami needed to make sure that you still wanted this since you were almost at a point of no return. Sensing his hesitation you reached your palm out towards him, letting the man that stood tall like a tree between your legs lower himself so you may cup his cheek in the most loving way. “I want you, Kento Nanami. I've never been more sure of something in my life before,” you whispered softly, the room around you falling quiet once more, only your heartbeats to be heard, hammering against your chests and begging to be united.

Your gentle giant couldn't ask for more from you, hearing you say it loud and clear - you wanted him, wanted this. His soft lips captured yours in an enchanting kiss and taking your mind entirely off of the way the bulbous head of his dick slowly pushed past your tight entrance and molding you to be his.

A hiccup caused by your pain interrupted the sensual kiss but Nanami was quick to help you, halting his advances when his length was halfway inside of you, taking your virginity with utmost care. “Shh… you're doing so good for me, doll. Do you want me to stop?” His voice sounded strained, yet caring and it was clear that it took everything in him to not thrust the remaining half into you which was greatly appreciated. His forehead connected with yours after he pressed a kiss to yours, waiting for you to say something, anything. “G-green” your voice cut through the silence and allowed him to go on which he did, one of his hands still holding your leg to his chest while the other intertwined with yours, lips returning to yours in a desperate attempt to ground himself so he won't lose control. Hurting you was the last thing Nanami wanted to do after all.

His balls rested heavy against you when he finally bottomed out, his deep groan echoing off the walls when you raked your fingers over his well defined back, feeling every ripple of his muscles beneath his pale skin. “Taking me so- fuck… so well,” he moaned breathless when his hips started to move with small thrusts, his thumb wiping a stray tear from your cheek and you're not sure if it was from the pain or the fact that he made you feel so incredibly good. Weakly you nodded your head, drinking the praise in like it's the essence that's keeping you alive. “My good girl,” he continued, hips meeting yours with every word and he felt like his heart would beat out of his chest at any moment, seeing your jaw slowly going slack and your moans growing in volume to create this lewd image of his usually so sweet love.

Nanami had to halt, his chest rising and sinking rapidly from the way you manage to steal his breath, your wet cunt gripping him like a vice and trying to milk him from all he's worth and he wanted to just fuck you senseless right then and there, hips pistonning into you like his life depended on it… but he didn't - he couldn't. Not this time at least. Instead his hips moved in slow but deep, rhythmic thrusts which let him feel every ridge inside your heat and only adding to his bottomless hunger for you. You were moaning beneath him, angelic sounds to his ears but when he straightened up so he was no longer bending over you on the bed you suddenly cried out his name in pleasure, soft moans turning desperate for more.

The new angle made you feel even fuller than before, his tip angled perfectly to hit your sweet spot with every gentle thrust until your glossy eyes landed on his almost closed ones, nodding over and over “I know you're close, princess. Just let go,” he encouraged you, his thrusts picking up their pace to push against your sweet spot repeatedly until your toes curled and your back arched so perfectly off the mattress. His thumb rubbed tight circles onto your sensitive clit to drag out this earth shattering orgasm as long as possible - you deserved a first time to remember fondly after all but he just doesn't stop. Your breathless whines turned into cries for him, for more, for him to not stop. You were high on this feeling he gave to you, his hips rutting into you aimlessly at this point and his head was thrown back as his moans mixed with yours. “One more, just- fuck! Just one more,” he groaned with a rough voice, needing to feel you clench around him in bliss again before he allowed himself to follow you.

When your pussy clenched around him as another orgasm rippled through your beautiful body, he finally understood why they call it a little death. His hips thrusted into you a final time, burying himself as deep as he physically could while his dick twitched wildly inside of you and you could feel the way his balls contracted, slowly filling you up with his release.

Nanami's vision went white for a moment, pure bliss taking over and his body feeling like he was floating on cloud nine - this is why they call it a little death. You were going to be his own piece of heaven, your core gripping his cock so tightly he felt like it was hard to breathe but at the same time you were the oxygen his lungs needed.

His barely there thrusts finally came to a stop and he lifted your leg off his chest and shoulder before lifting your body against his chest so you could be as close as possible without having to slip out. The way he fell onto the bed with you was almost clumsy but he didn't want to let go of you, not even for a fraction of a second.

His big hand came up to wipe a strand of hair behind your ear, a tired smile on his lips “Are you okay, doll?” he asks with his voice like silk, needing to know if you're fine and you nodded tired, laying on top of him now with your bodies still connected. Even with his own seed running out of you and onto his body and the bed beneath he made no effort to move, the moment too perfect. Your body was draped over his, your limbs ever so tired as his hands ran up and down your back which was sticky from the sweat but he didn't mind it for one second. This moment dragged on for a while, gentle touches and even gentler kisses shared between lovers until your breath started to even out. In your half awake state you barely noticed how he carefully picked up your tired body to carry you into the room where it all began, only registering it when the sound of the water running and the scent of lavender filled your exhausted senses. “You can just rest, I'll clean you up” he whispered and lowered you into the warm water of the bathtub, following you mere seconds after where he let you rest against his chest again. You let your eyes remain closed when he picked up the softest washcloth, slowly dragging it over your arms, your torso, your legs and lastly over your sore pussy, still leaking his cum. There was nothing sexual in his touch, only tender care as he made sure to clean your body from any filth so you may rest and let him take care of you so you could wake in the bed to the smell of breakfast in the morning…

#-ˋˏ ༻luma's musings #jjk x reader #jjk smut #nanami x reader #nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami x you #jjk x you #💫hotter than the sun💫

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salemrph · 10 days ago

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Show me (Sylus x MC)

Summary: Sylus is driving you wild, and no matter how hard you try, nothing seems to ease the heat building inside you. After playing blackjack, you find yourself trapped in his control, where the line between teasing and desire disappears.

Character: MC x Sylus

Genre: explicit sexual content, provocative, soft

Pet names: Kitten, Sweetie, Love

Word count: 5,189 | Reading Time: 20 min |

WARNINGS: mdni, fingering, biting, masturbation

This is my first explicit story. Hope you enjoy it.

A moan felt from your lips, is feels so good. Your body is heating up, you arch your back on the bed. Your hand is buried in the sheets. It's intoxicating—his scent lingers everywhere. In the silence of your room, your sighs fill the air. You can feel how wet your are. You hear his voice in your ear, resonating like an echo throughout your body.

You need more, more then what you're feeling now. One more finger slips inside you making you moan his name. You're sweating, you ajuste your position, flipping around, burying your nose in his shirt laying on your pillow. Again. There is the sweet spot.

"Please... Sylus" Only a thread of voice comes out of you, a prayer, begging.

His hands tracing imaginary patterns across your skin, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You hear his voice, low and seductive, in your mind, his breath hot against your skin.

"That's it, sweetheart. Take it. I want you to moan my name until you can't take it any longer."

You can imagine how he would look at you, his eyes darkened with lust, his lips curling up in a knowing smirk. You can feel his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he guides your movements. The idea of his words sends a shivers down your spine.

How would his finger feels pressing inside of you, the weight of him bearing down on you, holding your nipple? His mouth on your skin, his lips against yours, his teeth scrapping across your skin, marking you as his.

You take your vibrator between your legs, you don't need the vibration tonight, the sensation of having something hard in you is enough. You started with a slow pace but you're so wet, so hungry for him that you quickly change to violent thrust, hitting you g-spot. How would his cock feel, pulsing, twitching? God... is he also so big as your toy or more?

"Kitten" His voice would sound, guttural and rough, as he would moan your name in pleasure.

Everything tight up, your mouth goes dry, your nipple harder than ever, you feel the orgasm reach the pick and you let the pleasure wash over you in release.

"Sylus..." you whisper one more time. The toys, your hand and sheet are cover in your fluids. "Fuck..."

How many time have you fuck yourself thinking about this man? Coming undone with your hands or your vibrator, leaving a mess in your bed—and in your heart. The scent of his shirt, stolen from his closet, clings to you like a guilty pleasure, making you feel like a stalker. When did you become this needy?

You want to get closer to him, but you can’t bring yourself to take the game beyond playful flirting. Whenever it feels like too much, you deflect, change the subject, or find an excuse to pull away. But it’s getting harder to resist. Night after night, he’s all you can think about.

You search for your panties, tossed somewhere on the bed in the haze of release. Still catching your breath, you rise and head to the bathroom, half-naked, to clean up the mess.

You step into the shower, hoping the warm water will help you settle down. The steam wraps around you as you stand under the stream, letting it run over your skin. Your body wants more. It craves something real, something that no amount of teasing thoughts or fantasies can satisfy. You lean your forehead against the cool tiles, trying to clear your mind, but it’s useless. Every time you close your eyes, it’s him—his voice, his touch, the way he’d look at you just before… You swallow hard, shaking your head, but the heat rising in your chest doesn’t fade.

Your body feels restless, it’s begging for more, and nothing you do is enough. The ache is real, almost frustrating. You feel ridiculous, standing here, wanting him like this, but the thought of him is all you can hold onto. And it’s driving you crazy.

The worst part? You’re staying at his place. Not just any place—his place. And you didn’t even have the decency to keep your restless thoughts in check. Instead, you gave in, right here in the guest room. You brought the vibrator just in case, but you didn't think you were going to use it.

Now, standing in the shower, the reality of what you’ve done crashes over you. The thought of being just a few doors away from him while you… God, what if he knew? What if he heard? You feel a flush creep up your neck, but it’s not from the hot water

What have I done? He would never come into my room without asking permission, would he?

No. Sylus was many things, but someone who crossed boundaries without permission? That... yeah, it his style. But still… you can’t shake the nagging doubt.

The image of his smirk flashes in your mind, and your stomach twists. If he knew, he wouldn’t just ignore it—he’d use it against you. Not cruelly, but in that way he has, turning everything into a game, making you stumble just to see if you’ll catch yourself.

You press your hands to your face, letting the water run over your fingertips. Stop overthinking. But it’s impossible when you’re in his space, surrounded by his presence, his scent, his everything.

You step out of the shower, the steam clinging to your skin as you wrap yourself in a towel. Padding softly to your bag, you pull out a fresh pair of everything—underwear, shorts, a loose t-shirt—and slip them on, the cool fabric a small comfort against your overheated thoughts.

The evidence of your restless night—the shirt you shamelessly swiped from his closet and the vibrator you couldn’t resist using—gets shoved deep into your bag. Out of sight, out of mind... or so you tell yourself.

You glance at the clock: 3 a.m. Perfect. Just enough time to stew in your self-inflicted insomnia.

Climbing back into bed, the sheets feel colder, the silence louder. Your mind refuses to settle, replaying every moment, every sound from earlier. You shift restlessly, willing sleep to take over, but it’s no use. Now you’re stuck, wide awake, staring at the ceiling and thinking of him. Of course.

You toss and turn, the sheets twisting uncomfortably around you. Frustration bubbles up as sleep evades you entirely. With a sigh, you sit up, grab a sweater from the back of a chair, and pull it on.

The house is creepily silent, the kind of quiet that feels heavy, pressing against your ears. You pause for a moment, listening for any signs of life. Has Sylus left? Is he in his room? You don’t hear a thing, and it doesn’t matter. Right now, you just need a breath of fresh air to clear your restless mind.

You wander aimlessly through the quiet hallways, the cool floor beneath your bare feet grounding you slightly. The thought of stepping outside without shoes makes you hesitate, so you continue pacing, hoping to find some semblance of calm.

The silence wraps around you like a blanket, but it’s quickly broken by a faint fluttering sound behind you. You freeze mid-step, a familiar presence prickling at the edge of your senses.

Not even two minutes have passed, and the crow is already following you. You turn your head slightly, catching the unmistakable glint of black feathers in the dim light. The bird perches silently on your shoulder.

"Really?" you mutter under your breath, crossing your arms. "Can’t a girl have a moment alone?"

Mephisto caw, of course, but you swear its head tilts just slightly, as if mocking your question.

"Fine..." You continue your way down the hall, the sense of restlessness grows within you, pushing you toward the one place that always offers some semblance of peace: the music room.

You reach the door, its heavy wood standing like a barrier between the silence of the house and the world you’re trying to escape. You push it open, stepping inside. The air is thick with the smell of aged wood and leather. The room feels different from the rest of the mansion—more alive, somehow. It’s Sylus’s private music library, a sanctuary filled with vintage records, all arranged with meticulous care.

The world slows down here, and you can breathe without the weight of questions pressing on your chest. You move closer to the shelves, your fingers grazing the edges of the records. Maybe you can find something to ease the tension, something to distract you from the chaos inside your heart.

Mephisto has perched himself on the arm of the chair nearby, you pull a record off the shelf at random. The cover is pretty without thinking too much, you slip the record onto the turntable, setting the needle in place. The faint crackle of the vinyl fills the air before smooth, cozy jazz begins to play, its mellow tones weaving a subtle warmth around the room. The sound wraps around you like a gentle hug.

You sink into the sofa, letting the smooth jazz fill the room and take the edge off your restless thoughts. The soft rhythm seeps into your chest, steady and comforting, grounding you in the moment. The warm glow of the room feels smaller, cozier, like a little bubble away from the world. For a second, it works. For a second, you let yourself breathe. But then your mind wanders, and the peace slips through your fingers.

How may moments you had with Sylus, where the tension between was unbearable? His finger moving softly under your chin forcing you to meet that piercing gaze of his. The other hand moving from your hip to your back.

The memory is enough to send a shiver through you, the same tightness blooming in your chest, the heat rising again. You whisper his name into the quiet, barely a sound, but it still feels too loud. Curling up on the couch, you press your knees to your chest, as if it’ll somehow contain the ache that’s spreading through you.

"I hope my name is the only one you pronounce like that, kitten."

You freeze at the sound of his voice, low and teasing, cutting through the music like a blade. Slowly, you look up, your pulse hammering in your chest. Sylus leans casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, his smirk sharper than ever. You sit up.

You feel your face heat up instantly. How long had he been standing there?

"I didn’t—" you start, but the words falter. What could you even say? Deny it? Explain it away?

Sylus steps into the room, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey. "Relax," he says, his tone light but laced with that unmistakable edge. "I don’t mind being in your little head... especially if I’m keeping you awake."

Your heart skips as he stops a few steps away, looking down at you with that infuriating, unreadable expression.

"I... wasn't thinking about you" you mumble, your voice barely audible over the music.

"If you say so" he replies, his smirk deepening as he tilts his head.

Sylus closes the distance between you. He stops in front of you, his hand brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. The touch is light, almost gentle, but it sends a jolt through your entire body.

"You look awfully tense," he murmurs, his voice dipping into a velvety softness. His fingers trail down, tracing the line of your jaw before lifting your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.

The intensity in his gaze steals your breath, every teasing word now layered with something much heavier, much darker. He leans down, close enough that you can feel the faint warmth of his breath against your lips.

"Tell me, kitten," he whispers, his tone impossibly smooth, "what exactly were you thinking about when you said my name like that?"

Your heart pounds so hard you’re sure he can hear it. His other hand moves, settling on the armrest of the couch, caging you in without ever touching you fully. The air between you is thick, charged with an electric tension that has you struggling to find your voice.

"I..." The words catch in your throat. Sylus doesn’t wait. His lips curve into a slow, knowing smirk.

"How about we play a little game?" he says, sitting down next to you.

You look at him, confused. "If you win, you can ask me to do whatever you want..."

A shiver runs down your spine. Your mind wanders to what that "whatever" could mean, and the thought of his lips on yours or his hands roaming your body makes your cheeks flush and you panties wet. Fuck. Playing games with Sylus is dangerous. It’s like making a deal with the devil. He looks at you intently, his gaze unwavering, and you swallow hard. Curiosity killed the cat, but despite knowing better, you ask anyway.

"What if I lose?"

Sylus chuckles softly, his voice laced with amusement.

"Then you do whatever I want, sweetie" he replies, his smirk widening. You tense for a moment. "Like going to bed so you can finally get some sleep." Your eyes dart around the room, trying to decide if this is a good idea.

"What game?" you ask finally, your curiosity winning out.

"I let you choose" he says, his tone casual but his expression far from innocent. It doesn’t guarantee victory, but at least it’s a starting point.

"And...?"

"Deal"

Well, you just sold your soul. Now you need to pick something that gives you even a shred of a chance. Sylus is good at nearly everything. You don't feel like playing Kitty Cards right now. You sigh, racking your brain for options. Luck might be your best bet. If you can’t outskill him, maybe you can outplay him. You need to play dirty at this, if you want to win.

"Black Jack" you declare, a sly smile forming on your lips.

Sylus raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your choice.

"As you wish," he says smoothly. Then, with an almost imperceptible glint in his eye, he adds, "I’ll call Luke and Kieran to deal for us."

It doesn’t take long before the table is set and the twins are in position, ready to play their role. Sylus, ever the gentleman when it suits him, guides you to your seat with a hand resting lightly on the small of your back.

You glance nervously at the cards and then at Sylus, who’s already settled in across from you, exuding his usual confidence. His eyes meet yours, and that devilish smirk reappears. "Ready, sweetie? Or are you already regretting this?"

"I've been born ready" you declare, exuding confidence as you sit down.

The rules are set: five rounds, with three wins needed to claim the prize. It feels fair, or at least as fair as any deal with Sylus could be.

The game begins, and each round feels like an eternity. Cards are dealt, your mind races, and every decision is accompanied by a bead of sweat forming on your forehead. Sylus, of course, looks completely unbothered, his smirk never faltering.

Despite your efforts—despite every ounce of strategy, luck, and sheer will—you lose.

Sylus leans back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression smug. "Well, kitten, I think we both know what that means."

As Sylus looks at the twins, they vanish without a word, leaving the room in eerie silence. He strides over to you with purpose, and before you can react, his hand grabs your arm.

"Wait—" you start, but the protest dies in your throat as Sylus effortlessly hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. You squirming against his hold.

He laughs, the sound deep and infuriatingly smug. He carries you through the halls, ignoring your attempts to wriggle free, until he reaches his room. The door shuts behind him with a soft click locking the room, he sets you down gently in the center of his bed.

"What are you doing?" you ask, your voice shaky. Sylus smirks as he steps back, his hands moving to his shirt.

"It is not obvious? Claiming my prize" Your eyes widen as he pulls the shirt over his head, revealing his perfectly sculpted abs. No matter how many times you've seen them, the sight still makes your brain short-circuit. You try to look away, your face heating. A moment later, the bed shifts as Sylus lies down beside you. You turn onto your side, giving him your back, putting distance. You can´t look at him, not right now, when you feel that your whole body is burning in desire.

"Why are you hiding, kitten?"

"I- I'm not" you stammer, your voice betraying you. Sylus chuckles, pulling you closer until your back is pressed against his chest. His arms wrap around you, strong and secure, and he buries his nose in the curve of your neck.

"Yes, you are" he murmurs, his voice vibrating through you.

You swallow hard, your pulse thundering in your ears. "J-Just tell me what I need to do," you manage, barely above a whisper.

"I want you to show me something" Sylus says, his voice low and dripping with intent.

You blink, confused, your mind racing to catch up. But before you can ask what he means, you feel it—his nose brushing along, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin. Then comes the slow, deliberate drag of his tongue, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I think" his tone laced with amusement and far darker, "a naughty kitten was calling for me during her... private session."

His words are a sharp contrast to the gentle press of his lips against your pulse, and it feels like the air has been sucked out of the room. Your entire body tenses, heat flooding your face as realization slams into you like a tidal wave. Oh god! He heard you. Of course, he did. You made a terrible mistake, letting yourself get lost in your desires, thinking you were alone.

"I don’t know what you mean" you stammer, your voice shaky, unconvincing even to your own ears.

Sylus laughs softly, the sound more dangerous than comforting. "You don’t? Maybe I can help you replay how you sounded..."

Before you can respond, his teeth graze your neck, sharp and deliberate, before biting down just enough to make you gasp. The sharp sensation sparks through your body, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. Trapped in his hold, you feel completely at his mercy, and yet, every nerve in your body screams for more.

Sylus hums against your neck, the sound deep, amused, and entirely unhurried. "It’s still not enough" he murmured, his tone wickedly smooth, as if coaxing a confession from you.

You squirm in his grip. His teeth scrape against your skin, his grip tightening around you just enough to make your breath hitch. Your body betrays you, responding to the intoxicating mix of dominance and teasing. Before you can stop it, a small, high whimper escapes your lips.

Sylus stills for a moment, and then you feel his smirk against your neck. "There it is" he says softly, the satisfaction in his voice unmistakable. "Now... a deal is a deal. Show me what were you doing earlier." He press himself against you, you feel it. That's definitely not his phone.

Your face burns as you twist to look at him. "Were you spying on me?"

His smirk deepens, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh no, kitten. I’d never do such a thing." He leans closer. "I just wanted to make sure you were asleep and... I heard it through the door."

"How?" you demand, your embarrassment threatening to consume you.

He grins, sharp and taunting. "I have good hearing." he says, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Sylus shifts with deliberate ease, he maneuvers you onto your back, his body following closely. His arms cage you in, his legs bracketing yours, trapping you beneath him. Your jaw tightens as you glare at him, but it only seems to amuse him more. Sylus tilts his head, studying you like a predator does its prey.

"Don’t look so embarrassed" he says, his voice laced with mock sympathy. "You sounded... exquisite." You cover your face with your hands, groaning.

Sylus chuckles, his hand sliding down your arm to gently pull your hands away. His grip is firm but not forceful, his fingers brushing against your wrist as he brings your face back into view. He counters smoothly, leaning in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Now, kitten... show me." He nips lightly at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. His other hand slides up your leg.

You mind is spinning, you've been wanting this for a long time, every night, every day you spend with him. And now that he's noticed you, that he's created the perfect scenario. You click your tongue, frustrated with yourself, hating the cowardice you feel.

"I'll... do it" Sylus moves away, he looks a bit surprised over the words, but then his smiles returns and his expression change to a mix lust and possessiveness.

"Mmm, good girl," he purrs. He kneels back, giving you space.

You move to the top of the bed, positioning yourself against the pillows, your body halfway between sitting and lying down. Sylus watches your every move intently. His eyes follow the curve of your body, taking in the sight of you slowly, unhurriedly, getting comfortable.

Your hands disappear beneath the waistband of your shorts, out of his view, you fix your eyes on him, meeting his gaze, your own filled with a mixture of nervousness and desire. He watches you intently, his eyes never leaving your face as your hand moves slowly. You never thought your first time with him would be like this—a voyeuristic experience. This wasn’t just about him seeing you—it was about you letting him see. And the power in that, the sheer intimacy of it, made your pulse race even faster.

Fuck it! I'm giving him the show of his life.

His breathing is heavier, deeper, as he watches your facial expressions, as he sees the pleasure cross your features. You moan, your breath becoming heavier, send a jolt straight through him. His intense gaze flickers to your other hand as it disappears beneath your shirt. His lips part slightly, and though he doesn’t say a word, you know he’s imagining exactly what you’re doing. His hunger is palpable, his eyes darker, his breathing heavier, but he stays rooted in place, letting you show him everything.

You can feel the need growing within you, a burning desire that begs to be satisfied. You slide your hand down further, your finger slipping beneath the fabric of your panties seeking for relief. You're so goddamn wet. As you arch your back, your eyes closing momentarily, Sylus groans lowly. You increase the pace, your breath coming in quick, sharp gasps as you work yourself closer and closer to the edge.

As you get lost briefly in the pleasure, you forget for a moment that he is there, watching you with a hot, possessive gaze.

His body tenses and tremors as he tries to deal with the erection straining against his slacks. The sound of your whimpers is making him lose everything, he wants you, wants to touch you, to taste you, to possess you utterly. He can smell your arousal, his body coiled like a panther waiting to pounce. But he resists the urge instead, Sylus leans forward, moving slowly next to you, his face is now just a breath away from yours. His perfume surrounds you, filling your nose, you want him so bad. The desire burning in your stomach is even stronger now than it was when you were touching yourself just hours ago.

"Come for me," he whispers, his voice a low, silken murmur.

"Sylus..." You can't help but say his name. You don't want this moment to end—you don't want to come. Staying like this, feels so damn right it consumes you.

"Come for me," he repeats. "Let go... I want to see you come undone."

You're so close, so close to tipping over the edge, and he's there, waiting, watching.

"I don't know if I can..." you whine, your voice trembling with the effort of holding back.

"May I help you?" his voice low and seductive.

At this point, your body is burning with need, every nerve begging for him. You nod, unable to resist the pull anymore. Sylus tilts your chin toward him, his lips crashing onto yours in a deep, messy kiss that makes you feel dizzy with desire. A desperate moan slips from your lips as his kiss intensifies. Every movement, every brush of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. Sylus's kiss is all-consuming. You abandon what you were doing, your hands going to his shoulders, holding on to him tightly.

He breaks the kiss, his breath hot on your skin as he moves down to your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin.

He move you effortlessly, sitting you between his legs, your back resting against his bare chest. With quick, practiced movements, he pulls down your shorts and underwear, you lift your hips slightly to help. His hand spreads your legs and you give him full access to your body.

The touch of his hands against your skin, as they run up your legs, leaves a trail of fire in its wake. He pauses, resting on your inner thighs, gently rubbing and squeezing the sensitive flesh. He kisses your shoulder after that his lips leaves open-mouthed kisses and bites on your neck.

"Sylus... please" you whine.

He groans in response, his body tensing against yours. He can feel the pleading in your voice, the need that mirrors his own. You take his hand, guiding it up to your wetness, wanting, no, needing him to touch you, to give you what you desire so badly since you know him.

"So needy, aren't we?" he growls into your ear.

He teases you, moving around your opening, his touch light and almost taunting. Then, one finger finds your warmth, and you gasp aloud at the sensation. "So ready for me" his voice low and sultry. His finger moves in a slow, circular motion, building the tension, driving you insane. You move your hips against his hand, trying to get more contact.

"You're so eager" his free hand coming up to grip your hip, holding you in place. He speeds up the motion adding pressure and friction. "I guess you can take another finger" Without waiting for an answer, a second finger is added, stretching you further and eliciting a gasp of both pain and pleasure. You let your head fall back on his shoulder. Opening more of your legs.

"D- Don't stop"

His finger curls inside you, deliberate and skilled, seeking out that sweet spot that leaves you breathless. When he finds it, a sharp wave of pleasure courses through you, stronger than anything you’d ever imagined. Your body arches involuntarily, pressing into his touch as a moan slips out of you.

"There it's" he purrs.

Each movement of his hand is precise, teasing you closer and closer to the edge without letting you fall. His thumb brushes over your clit in a perfect rhythm, amplifying the sensation until you’re gasping for air.

"Sylus..." you whimper, unable to form a coherent thought beyond the exquisite feeling of him inside you, even if it’s just his finger. You hold on to his legs, your fingers sinking into the fabric of his pants as you try to hold on.

"That's it" he murmurs, his voice thick with hunger. "Claw at me. Mark me."

When he presses against that favourite spot again, your entire body tenses, a sharp cry escaping you.

"S- Sylus... I'm... close..." your words are a pleading gasp, your body trembling as you teeter on the edge.

He smirks, his pace unwavering, his dark red eyes locked onto your face. He feels you tightening around his fingers, senses the way your body is begging for release.

"Be a good girl," he growls, low and commanding, "and come on my hand."

You can feel the pressure building within you, the tension ratcheting higher and higher. Every touch, every whisper from Sylus, fuels the fire consuming you. You're so close now, teetering on the edge, at this point you're just whimpers. His other hand slides beneath your shirt, his fingers expertly teasing and pinching your nipple, sending sharp jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

He whispers in your ear, his voice a low, sultry command. "Let go, love. Come for me."

Your mouth goes dry as you try to catch up your breath, every nerve of your body alight with the intensity of the moment. You can barely breathe, your chest heaving as you try to cling to some semblance of control. But his voice, paired with the relentless rhythm of his fingers and the possessive way his body surrounds yours, is too much.

A broken cry tears from your throat as the tension finally snaps. Your body shuddering uncontrollably as waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you trembling and undone. Sylus keeps his hand on you, his fingers still inside, coaxing every last ripple of your release.

When your breathing begins to steady, he finally withdraws his fingers, leaving you with a sharp pang of emptiness that only deepens the need swirling in your chest. His face is buried in your neck, his breath hot on your skin.

"That was the most fucking cute whimper I've ever heard"

Before you can even think of a reply, Sylus turns you in his grip, his lips crashing against yours. The kiss is fierce and consuming, all teeth and passion, his possessiveness pouring out in every movement. His hand tangles in your hair as he claims you completely, his body pressing into yours as if he can’t bear to be apart for even a moment.

The fabric of your shirt became a frustrating barrier to his touch, his impatient evident in the way his fingers trace along it, desperate to feel your skin "I want you" he growls into your skin, his voice rough with need.

"I think you had claim your prize already" you manage to say, voice shaky.

Sylus laughs, the sound dark and knowing. "Technically, you didn’t fulfill your part of the deal. So…" he says, the amusement clear in his tone. You feel him press his hard dick against your back, making your body heat up again. His hands tighten around your waist as he looks down at you with that trademark smirk. "...I want you instead."

#love and deepspace #sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lads #sylus love and deepspace #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x reader #sylus smut #love and deepspace smut #sylus fanfiction #sylus x y/n #sylus x mc #l&ds sylus #sylus fic

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incognit0slut · 9 months ago

Note

Ok two words:

shower sex…multiple 🤭

(that’s more than two words but you get the point)

(18+) fem reader. 1.6 k. Fingering. Shower sex.

Your idea of showering together to save time doesn’t work out as you planned.

"What are you doing?" Spencer shrieked as you joined him in the shower out of nowhere. He was enjoying his moment of peace when you suddenly barged in, completely naked.

"This is your fault!" You snapped, letting the water wash over you, facing away from him. "You should've woken me up."

He sighed. "I did try, you didn't even move."

"Well, you should've tried harder," you shot back.

Spencer took a step back, his gaze fixed on the tiled wall. Despite the crazy, kinky sex you had in the bedroom, he couldn't shake the discomfort of showering together. For him, it was a private time for self-cleaning, and the thought of you watching him wash away all the dirt off his body made him feel oddly self-conscious.

You always told him that he didn't need to feel that way, that you were his partner, and you've already seen each other at your worst. Though he was still persistent and there was nothing you could do but to respect his boundaries.

But now, as he stole a glance at you, he realized he had been too preoccupied with his discomfort and insecurity to even consider how you would look under the flow of water.

Or how much it affected him.

Because it was affecting him so, so much. He could feel a wave of heat surging through him to his lower body. The water flowed effortlessly over your curves as you began to lather soap onto your skin, and unable to resist any longer, he moved closer, his hand naturally finding its way down your back.

"You missed a spot," he breathed out, his voice lower than he intended. You turned to him with a smile, unaware of the effect you had on him.

"Thanks, baby," you replied, the innocence in your tone contrasting with the sudden tension in the air. His breath hitched as he unconsciously licked his lips, his hands exploring your slippery skin with a sense of urgency. His palm traced the curve of your waist before boldly circling around to your front.

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest as his hand came dangerously close to the lower curve of your breasts.

"...Spence?"

Without a word, his palms brushed over your breasts, cupping them with a mixture of firmness and tenderness that sent a shiver down your spine. Your body responded involuntarily, your nipples hardening under his touch, leaving you speechless.

You had always respected his boundaries, never wanting to invade his personal space in the bathroom. But this morning was different; you had overslept, and in your rush, you assumed he wouldn't mind if you barged in, even if it meant facing away from him to give him some privacy.

Although having his hands explore your body was the last thing you expected, and when you felt him inching closer, his arousal pressing against your back, you swiftly turned around.

"Nope. Nuh-uh," you said firmly, attempting to give him your best glare, but his semi-hard cock was undeniably distracting. "This is not the time."

His fingers continued to trace your wet stomach, causing you to shiver at his touch. "Why not?"

"B-Because," you stammered, your breath catching as his fingers edged closer between your thighs. "I'm already late."

"Exactly," he countered. "You're already late anyway."

The water fell around your body, washing away the suds as his fingertips slipped between your folds, and despite the water, he could feel the slickness of your arousal coating his skin.

You gasped at the sudden contact, feeling a surge of pleasure shoot through you. Your eyes fluttered shut as he dipped just the tip of his middle finger inside your warmth, savoring the wetness that coated his finger before tracing a path up to your clit. A breathy moan escaped your lips.

"I-I thought you don't like showering together," you managed to say.

His lips curved into a smile. "I'm beginning to see the appeal."

Your body slumped against the wall as he applied more pressure to your clit, pleasuring you with slow, deliberate circles. "Baby..." you breathed out, your mind clouded with desire even as you tried to focus on the time. "I'm late for work."

"I know," He murmured. "That's why I'm helping you clean up."

"I-I really need to get to work."

"And you will," he assured you. "But I need you to spread your legs first. Got to clean all the spots."

You hesitated for a moment, but with a shaky exhale, you finally complied, parting your legs as he requested, giving him access to every inch of your skin. Your head fell back against the wall, a soft moan escaping your lips as you struggled to maintain your composure when his finger slipped into your heat.

Your hand instinctively reached out, gripping around his wrist as he began to pump his digit inside your dripping walls. A gasp escaped your lips at the sensation of him filling you, and he couldn't help but let out a low groan of pleasure at how tight you were clenching around him.

"Oh god," you moaned, feeling him quickening his pace. The sound of your wetness mingling with the rushing water enveloped you both, drowning out any thoughts of being late for work. All that mattered was the sensation of his hand between your thighs, driving you closer to the edge.

Then, to your disappointment, he suddenly pulled back and you whimpered at the loss, but before you could protest, he pulled your thigh up to rest on his hip before gripping himself in his hand. You bit your bottom lip, your body trembling with desire as he pumped a few times, while he positioned himself at your soaked entrance.

Every nerve in your body hummed with anticipation as the tip of him slipped inside your warmth. His lips met yours in a passionate kiss as he began easing himself further in, inch by inch, and you couldn't suppress the moan against his mouth upon feeling him stretching you.

He sank himself all the way inside your heat, giving you a moment to adjust as he ran his tongue over your bottom lip, coaxing a soft sigh from you before slipping inside to caress yours. Then you felt his hips begin to move with light, sensual motions, with one hand gripping your thigh firmly, as the other held your body against the wall by your hip.

“Tell me how that feels,” he encouraged you, nipping at your lips between words and taking his time with his pace, and suddenly you didn’t care you were supposed to be in a rush.

“So... so good,” you whimpered breathlessly, feeling him slowly draw his hips away, only to glide back in even slower. He repeated the motion as if he wanted to etch into his memory the way your walls tightened around him with every thrust, as if he wanted to keep in his mind forever the way your lips parted as moans filled his ears.

You held onto his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin and he could sense your desperation as he quickened his pace. His hand then slipped between your thighs, his thumb finding your clit before rubbing gentle circles around it.

You let out a filthy cry.

He pumped into you even harder, the rhythm of his thrusts becoming more frantic as he lost himself in the pleasure all the while his thumb worked your clit even faster, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your body. The sensations overwhelmed you, and your legs began to shake with the sheer intensity of it all.

"Yes—fuck," you moaned, your voice a desperate plea for more.

"You feel so good," he groaned out the words, his mouth inches away from yours, his breath hot against your skin as his hips continued to move in perfect rhythm with yours. "God, I love you."

Just as you were about to reply, the overwhelming pleasure consumed you as your jaw slackened, unable to form words as pleasure coursed through your veins, causing your legs to twitch uncontrollably. You whined, lost as the sensation consumed you, but soon, it became too much to bear and you tiredly pushed his hand away.

Watching you come undone around him was just enough to push him over the edge. He held your body close, still thrusting into you, the rhythm of his movements matching the frantic beat of his heart. With a final, exhilarating surge, he tilted his head back in pure bliss, his body trembling as he surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure of release.

He exhaled a sigh of relief as his heartbeat gradually subsided, finally pulling out of you to leave you feeling empty, shaking, and still holding onto him for support. The water had grown cold, beating against your skin and causing you to shiver against his chest. Sensing your discomfort, he turned the faucet, shutting off the shower.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his eyes filled with concern as he looked at you, making sure you didn’t slip against the slick tiles.

You nodded your head, offering him a small, reassuring smile. "Yeah," you assured him, placing your leg back on the ground. "You're a bad influence, you know that?"

He chuckled, the sound echoing in the now quiet bathroom. "I'll take that as a compliment," he replied as he reached out to wrap his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest.

You nestled into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours. "It's not," you countered, looking up at him. "I'm too late now, I think I have to call in sick."

He tilted his head and held your gaze. "What if I call in sick too?"

A smile tugged at your lips as you considered his suggestion. "That could work," you said, the idea of spending the day together sounding more appealing by the second. You pulled him in for a kiss. "That could definitely work."

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic

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capuccinodoll · 1 month ago

Text

Honey love, dark eyes

♡ Chapter four ♡

Summary: Halloween night arrives at the Hoffman barbecue, and you find yourself masking feelings again.

Word count: 8.5k

A/N: Oh, i'm not over... - thank you for your comments, they're so fun lol you all make me laugh !! <3 Hope you enjoy this part.

October 31st. You let your feet drag across the cool bathroom tile, feeling every step. There was something comforting in that small heaviness, your body still lulled by the weight of lunch, and your mind restless, carrying the remnants of memories you'd been revisiting all afternoon. You turned on the shower, waiting a moment before stepping in, the heat closing around you like a second skin. As your fingers combed through your hair, scrubbing it softly, your thoughts slipped forward, out of your control, toward the evening ahead, as inevitable as the pull of gravity.

Last year felt impossibly far away. Sarah had wanted to be a vampire. You’d found her a set of plastic fangs, which she wore with a grin that pushed her cheeks high up on her face. Her cape was metallic, shiny as foil, falling past her shoulders, and she looked so delighted, bouncing on her feet in front of the mirror. You'd managed to take more photos than you ever needed, laughing at her exaggerated grimaces and capturing her tiny poses. Joel had been there, too, playing along, wide-eyed with pretend fear, leaning away from her “fangs” in a way that made her giggle. Every single picture was still on your hard drive—photos from a time you could hardly believe was only a year ago.

This Halloween was different. Sarah had decided on her costume weeks back—an astronaut. You’d spent the better part of September helping her piece it together, and she was beyond excited. She’d be with her friends tonight at a “scary” sleepover, which she’d told you about, bright-eyed and practically bouncing with anticipation. It was strange that she wasn’t here. It felt like there was a piece of Halloween missing, but she hadn’t felt it that way at all. To her, this was the most exciting plan in the world. You’d felt it too, in her voice, like a little pinch in your chest.

This would be the first Halloween in years you’d spend without her, alone at the Hoffmans' barbecue. And without Sarah, Joel wouldn't come either. His attendance at these neighborhood gatherings had always been more about you than the event itself, which you’d always appreciated without needing to say it out loud. You could picture him, standing with a beer, blending into the background, jokingly complaining about the crowds. He’d said he didn’t care for the noise, the small talk, and the endless kids weaving through adults like they were on a secret mission. But you’d noticed the way he’d watch Sarah, his face softened as he looked on, his attention lingering in that way that showed he didn’t mind being here, really, because it was with you and her. And the two of you—Joel and you—could talk about anything. He made everything feel like a continuation of one long conversation, like you’d just pick up right where you’d left off, glancing at each other and knowing what the other meant without even saying it.

You could also picture Clara, who’d come over to him every year, her voice lilting as she placed her hand lightly on his arm, her laugh soft and maybe a bit forced. She had that amused smile, that slight lean toward him whenever she spoke, and you couldn’t resist teasing him about it later. He’d always looked so puzzled whenever you brought it up, though you were sure he knew exactly what you were hinting at. She’d been living in the neighborhood for years, a few houses down, in that bright yellow house, and you knew she’d nursed a quiet crush on him for a while. And Joel, for his part, never seemed to notice.

The thought made you smile, picturing him in that moment, eyes narrowed, brows creased, looking at you as if to say, “Why would she be interested?” But as soon as you felt the smile, the weight of reality caught up. Joel was no longer in your life in the same way. He wasn’t “your” Joel anymore, the friend you’d poke fun at and swap knowing glances with. He wouldn’t be coming to the barbecue this year. With Sarah gone and things fractured between the two of you, he’d have no reason to come.

Maybe this would be the year he’d finally spend Halloween as he’d always said he wanted to—in the quiet of his house, watching a horror movie, the occasional interruption of trick-or-treaters breaking the silence as he handed out candy. The picture of him there, his small, self-contained world entirely separate from you, felt like an ache that had been growing for a long time, quiet and steady.

You missed him. And it made you furious to feel it, like he had somehow taken something from you by hurting you, even though you knew, rationally, that wasn’t true. Still, the feeling stuck, simmering somewhere in the background. You hated that you missed him at all.

Your steps matched Travis’s as you left the house, his voice filling the space around you, his hands carving shapes in the air with his animated gestures. The crisp October air wrapped around you, a lingering autumn sun casting a warm, golden wash over everything—the leaves curling on the trees, the lawn stretching out beside you. You hugged your flannel a little closer, fingers brushing over the thick fabric. It was just the right layer—a deep green fleece, oversized, over a worn black T-shirt. You were warm, content, happy even, if only you could hold on to that feeling.

Beside you, Travis was recounting a work spat, his colleague’s tone and insults reimagined in Travis’s flurry of hands. You caught the edges of his words, murmuring a few responses that seemed to satisfy him. By the time you reached the Hoffmans’ house, you were both following the gentle glow of orange lights strung across the yard, stepping into a scene that felt dreamlike, suspended in that late afternoon haze. There was a large oak tree strung with little yellow lights, glowing faintly in the dying sunlight, the whole place set up in the same meticulous, festive way the Hoffmans always did.

Every corner had been turned into Halloween, with cobwebs woven over bushes and pumpkins large and small lining tables, some carved and flickering with candles, others untouched, casting shadows across the tablecloths. Guests mingled at scattered tables, warm drinks in hand, their voices and laughter filling the air with a kind of warmth you hadn’t known you’d needed. The grill added a woodsy scent, smoky and rich, mixed with spices that made your stomach hum with anticipation. A few feet away, kids dressed as witches and monsters zoomed around, their laughter spilling into the light breeze, punctuating the chatter of the adults.

It was the kind of evening that felt ripe for sinking into, letting go of all the worries that had weighed on you lately. You wanted to let yourself simply be here.

Travis glanced at you then, his gaze softening in that way he had, his question as warm as his smile. “I’m heading for food—want anything?” he asked, eyes moving from you to the spread at the far end of the yard.

You pushed yourself up from the table, your hands planted firmly as if grounding yourself.

“I’ll come with you—this is the best part, right?”

The food was better than ever. Tender, perfectly cooked meat, salads piled high, and a sense of community humming through every bite. You found your spot at the table again, balancing your glass of beer on the edge, the faint strains of music drifting from the outdoor speakers blending into the buzz of voices around you. And then, like some personal invitation to memory, you heard the familiar intro; Eyes Without a Face, by Billy Idol, that unmistakable beat curling around you.

Your shoulders started to sway, almost without permission, and then there he was again—Joel. Just like that, back in your mind, as clear as if he were standing beside you. You could picture it—two years ago, slightly tipsy, singing that song in his living room, his hand on your waist, both of you spinning each other slowly to the rhythm, his head tilted back in a deep laugh, voice just slightly off-beat, and you trying and failing to contain your own laughter.

“You okay?” Travis’s voice pulled you back, concern lacing his tone as he looked at you. Your gaze had been locked on some invisible point on the table, your head leaning slightly, reliving a memory that suddenly felt all too close.

“Oh—yeah. It’s nothing. I just love this song.”

He smiled, nodding knowingly. “It’s a classic,” he said, his fingers tapping along with the beat.

You looked up and there, just beyond Travis, the Hoffmans’ glass door slid open. You stopped breathing for a second. Joel stepped out, looking like he’d walked out of some old photograph, hair a bit damp, dark jeans and a gray and black flannel layered over a plain white T-shirt, a pair of black converse grounding him to this moment. He moved toward one of the tables, brushing his chin absentmindedly, his lips moving in time with the music, glancing around as if he were taking it all in for the first time.

And then his gaze found yours.

You held your breath, as if that could somehow make you invisible, as if that would erase this moment. But his eyes stayed on you, unreadable, a half smile on his face or maybe just a neutral expression—some mix of familiar and distant, like he was watching you from a place you could never fully reach. You swallowed, shifting your focus back to Travis, who had his eyes on his phone now, idly typing something while he continued to eat.

“I should’ve dressed up tonight,” you said, your voice intentionally light, trying to shake the weight that had fallen over you. “I don’t know what I’d be, but still. It would be fun to pretend for a night.”

Travis chuckled, leaning in closer, but you could still see Joel over his shoulder, that steady gaze, watching from his own table.

“I know a party tomorrow night—my friend’s hosting, if you want to go with me. We can pick out costumes tomorrow morning, make a day of it.”

You smiled, surprised at how genuinely it formed, pushing your hands together in excitement.

“Really? I’d love that! I haven’t dressed up in years.”

Travis’s face lit up. “Then it’s a date. We’ll figure out the costumes in the morning. Anything you want.”

For a moment, you let yourself lean into that feeling, that lightness in his offer, something to look forward to. Your gaze wandered to Helena and her little daughter by the pool, her laughter carried to you on the breeze, her face illuminated in the soft glow of fairy lights. You patted Travis’s hand and stood up, gesturing for him to follow. He caught on, falling into step behind you as you made your way to greet them.

But as you moved, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Joel’s eyes on you, lingering there in the space between.

It had been more than a month since you'd last seen Helena. She had traveled back to her home country after her father’s death, sorting through family matters, settling things that couldn’t be left undone. Now, with her daughter Iris perched on her lap, she looked better, lighter even. There was a calmness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before, her fingers tracing gentle circles over Iris’s shoulder as the little girl, dressed as a bumblebee, poked unenthusiastically at a slice of pumpkin bread. You sat next to her.

“Hey,” Helena said, catching sight of you with a warm smile that seemed to melt away everything around you—even the awareness of Joel, somewhere behind you, his gaze like a whisper you couldn’t quite shake. “It’s so good to see you. How are you?”

“I’m… fine,” you answered, hesitating as your eyes drifted to Iris, who looked up at you with a shy, dimpled smile. “When did you get back?”

“A few days ago. I was actually planning to stop by tomorrow,” Helena replied, brightening as she added, “I thought we could have dinner, get the girls together, and our guys.” She gave a little chuckle, nudging Iris lightly. “Paul would probably love having Joel around too. The poor guy spent the entire trip surrounded by women—my sisters are wonderful, but you know how it is. It was just him and my dad with all of us, and now…”

Helena had three sisters, each one of them stunning, with the same striking green eyes and dark hair that she had. When you’d met them last Christmas, it was as though you’d stepped into some enchanted fairytale—they moved with an effortless grace, magnetic and ethereal.

Helena’s eyes twinkled as she turned toward Travis. “You should come too, Travis,” she said, a mischievous glint in her expression. She shot you a knowing wink, which Travis, ever polite, caught with a smile.

“Sounds great,” he replied with an easy grin, though you felt a twinge of discomfort at the mention of “our guys,” the thought of Joel slipping into your mind unbidden. Trying to brush it aside, you nodded and shifted the conversation.

“Is Paul not coming tonight?” you asked, hoping to keep things light.

“No,” she sighed. “He’s been swamped at work, trying to catch up after our trip. But I really can’t complain. He was so great, staying home with me all this time, so I told him tonight he should just take his time.”

Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice.

“Helena, it’s so good to see you!” Brenda, always the life of these gatherings, came over with her usual warmth, her gaze lighting up as she reached out for Iris.

Brenda’s costume was a striking homage—her spiky orange hair and dark lipstick made her look both bold and playful. She wore a white shirt stamped with slogans in block print, a chunky pearl necklace framing her smile. As she was sitting in front of Helena, she caught your eye and grinned.

“I'm Vivienne Westwood!” she announced proudly, preening a little under your gaze.

“You look amazing,” you said, meaning it. “And the food is, as always, incredible. You outdo yourself every year.”

Brenda gave your hand a squeeze in response, her gaze softening, but just as she was about to respond, her attention shifted beyond you, a pleased expression lighting up her face. “Oh! Joel, come over here!”

Your body tensed at the sound of his name, feeling as though the space behind you had just closed in. He was there, his footsteps echoing toward you until he was nearly at your back. You wanted to stand up, to avoid the moment entirely, but it would have only made things worse—too obvious, too awkward. Brenda couldn’t have known. Joel had always been a fixture in your life; it wasn’t strange to see him here, even if, for some reason, it felt like he was moving in a world that was no longer entirely yours.

You glanced up, catching sight of Joel as he leaned down to kiss Brenda’s cheek while she patted the seat next to her. His smile was casual, easy, as he greeted the others with a nod, his eyes lingering just a second longer on you and Travis than felt necessary. He looked completely at ease, unbothered by the tension knotting up inside you, sitting comfortably in front of you.

Brenda’s hand rested on his arm as she looked up at him with a fond smile. “Where’s your Sarah? I haven’t seen her all night.”

“She’s at a friend’s sleepover,” Joel replied, a hint of concern threading through his words, though he tried to disguise it with a smile. “So I’m here on her behalf, I suppose.”

“She’s growing up so fast,” Brenda said, her tone nostalgic as she gave him a soft smack on the arm.

Joel shook his head slowly, a bittersweet smile flitting across his face before his gaze moved to Iris. “Tell me about it. I remember when she was this little…”

Helena’s hand drifted over her daughter’s hair as she smiled back at him.

“It all flies by, doesn’t it?” she said, her voice soft. “We really have to hold on to these moments.” She turned toward Travis, and he nodded, a gentle look in his eyes as he watched Iris.

“How old is Sarah now, Joel?” Travis asked, and you noticed a subtle shift in Joel’s expression, a kind of hesitance before he replied.

“Twelve,” he said, his voice quieter, his gaze falling briefly before meeting Travis’s, smile dissapearing.

“Twelve?” Brenda’s tone was incredulous. “I still remember the day you moved in, Joel! She was so little then, a perfect little angel! And you—how old were you then?”

“Twenty-seven,” Joel answered with a wry smile, a hint of nostalgia in his tone.

“You were just a kid yourself,” Brenda replied, shaking her head. “Always working, always rushing somewhere. And always putting your baby first.”

Joel’s smile softened, his eyes meeting Brenda’s with a warm gratitude.

“I couldn’t have managed without you,” he said simply, as though she understood all the years of support and help she had given him.

Helena glanced over with a thoughtful look. “Didn’t you just have a birthday, Joel?” she asked, her voice casual, but the question landing with a weight that made your heart leap.

“That's right,” he murmured, looking down at his hands as he fiddled with his fingers against the edge of the table. “September twenty-sixth.”

“Hey, happy belated birthday then,” Helena said brightly, her smile lighting up the words. “Did you have a nice time?”

Joel looked at you briefly, and something flickered there, like he was turning over a memory he hadn’t expected to find. He shifted his gaze back to his hands. “It was good. Full of… surprises, I guess. Pretty sure Sarah told you all about it, huh?” He shot a glance at Brenda, as if grateful for a way out of the conversation.

“Oh, I heard all about it from Sarah,” Brenda said, grinning, her gaze settling on you with a warmth that made you blush. “You’re a lucky guy, Joel, to have two sweet girls looking out for you like that.” She patted his arm. “I’ll make up a little bag of candy to take home to her, all right? I know she loves the caramel ones.”

You smiled, trying to ignore the prickle of Joel’s gaze on you. And then a feeling dragged you back to years before, to when his Sarah was just three. You could pictured her as a toddler with wide eyes and a toothy, mischievous grin. Joel had shown you those old photos once, and you remembered how adorable she looked, her tiny hand clutching a toy tightly. Sarah had his smile—that same easy warmth, with eyes that crinkled and all but disappeared whenever she laughed. That gesture was even present in Tommy, now that you thought about it. Maybe it was purely a Millers thing, but it—

You realized Brenda was talking to you and straightened up, feeling your cheeks warm.

“Sorry, what?”, you asked.

Brenda chuckled, looking at you with a soft smile. “I was just asking, how old was Sarah when you first met her?”

“She was eight,” Joel answered before you could, glancing at you with a faint smirk.

"Yeah, eight," you echoed the number, ignoring the way his gaze moved over you, lingering with a warmth that felt almost invasive.

At that moment, Helena called Brenda’s attention back to a conversation about Christmas and Iris’s upcoming birthday, but Joel’s eyes stayed on you, searching your face like he was looking for something only you might understand. You tried to keep your own expression neutral, feeling Travis’s hand come to rest on your knee under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. The warmth of his touch helped you to breathe a little easier, though Joel didn’t miss the gesture. His gaze hardened as he glanced down, the line of his jaw tightening slightly.

Clearing his throat, he leaned forward, finally addressing Travis. “So, how’s business going, Travis? I heard something about real estate taking a hit. Times are rough, aren’t they?”

Travis, completely unfazed, nodded, his hand still on your knee. “It is. At least for now things are still good, but of course, I can speak for myself.”

Joel gave a slow, mocking nod, feigning an interest he didn’t feel. “Well, you seem quite competent. I have no doubt you sure are handy with business. Is your dad still running the company?”

Travis smiled, oblivious to the subtext that hung in Joel’s question. “Yep, still going strong, but I think he’s planning to retire soon. My old man is tired, I think.”

Joel raised his eyebrows in a mock gesture of understanding. “Makes sense. I’m sure you’ll do fine. You seem like the kind who’s got a knack for that… you know, the charm. Every successful businessman needs a little bamboozling spark, don’t they? And I... I think you fit the role.”

“Joel,” you warned quietly, hoping to temper the tension you could feel growing at the table. But Joel merely looked back at you with a faint, defiant smile, ignoring the caution in your eyes.

Travis, patient as ever, simply shrugged. “I appreciate your good faith, Joel. It means a lot coming from you, I know what a hard worker you are.”

The kindness in his tone, the sincerity in his eyes—it made your heart soften. You turned to look at him with a warm smile on your face, how was he immune to the sharp words of the man in front of him? And Joel had a special talent for formulating painful and provocative sentences, but apparently Travis was not the easy guy to gnaw on. And you were grateful for that.

He turned to you, his eyes warm as he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “I’m going to get us some drinks. Need anything, beautiful?”

You shook your head, managing a small smile. “I’m good, thanks.”

As he rose and walked away, he gave your shoulder one last affectionate squeeze. You noticed Joel watching Travis’s every move, his expression darkening, and once Travis was out of earshot, Joel’s gaze returned to you. He didn’t bother to hide his irritation, his eyes narrowing in an almost accusatory way as they moved over your face, searching.

“Joel, really,” you whispered, leaning in so only he could hear. “You don’t have to treat him like that. He’s never done a thing to you.”

A smirk flickered across his lips, and he leaned closer, eyes dancing with a kind of challenge. “Treat him like what?”

You shook your head, pulling back to put some distance between you, but Joel’s gaze followed, steady, like he was waiting for you to react, hoping for it even.

Murmuring an apology to Brenda and Helena, you stood, slipping away to the table by the big oak tree where your empty plate and half-full glass still sat. You picked it up, taking a long drink, grateful for the quiet moment, even as you felt his eyes on you from across the garden.

Travis appeared in front of you, a warm smile on his face as he handed over a small plate with a chocolate cupcake, topped with a dollop of cream shaped into a ghost and dusted with coconut. The sweet smell hit you right away, and you leaned in, inhaling the scent, your mouth already watering. You took a bite, savoring the rich chocolate—it tasted like all of Brenda Hoffman’s best baking, delicious and indulgent.

“Maybe after the barbecue, we could head back to my place for a while,” Travis said, his expression slightly tentative, as if he wasn’t entirely sure of your response.

“That sounds perfect,” you replied with a small smile, trying not to feel self-conscious. As you savored another bite, you glanced toward the pool where Joel was still deep in conversation with Brenda, Helena, and Iris. A moment later, you noticed Clara, all golden hair and easy confidence, sliding into the seat you’d left vacant. She placed two plates on the table, one for herself and one for Joel, who glanced up as she settled in, looking pleased.

Travis followed your gaze, then turned back to you with a knowing look.

“He hates me, doesn’t he?” he said, sounding almost amused, though his eyes held a faint hint of confusion. “I think I might understand why, i mean, i think i know why but…”

You blinked, feeling that all-too-familiar twinge of guilt.

“No, he doesn’t hate you,” you said, brushing off the thought. “He’s just acting… well, like a jerk.”

Travis nodded slowly, digesting your words, but then his eyes softened with curiosity.

“You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but… what happened with you two? Weren’t you best friends? I remember you two were always together, but lately…”

You sighed, feeling the tension build as you searched for a way to answer. Travis didn’t need the full story, not yet.

“Like I just told you, he's acting like a jerk,” you said, and it didn't take long to sense that Travis wasn't satisfied with your answer.“Honestly, we just… had an argument a few weeks ago,” you said, carefully choosing each word. “It’s been weird between us since then, I guess.”

Travis seemed to sense that you didn’t want to go deeper, and thankfully he let the topic slide, moving the conversation in a new direction as he began to tell you about the last book he’d read.

“I just finished The Red and the Black, actually,” he said, his gaze turning thoughtful as he picked up his fork, poking at his plate absently. “I didn’t like Madame de Rênal. I thought her choices were a bit… unconvincing.”

You laughed, covering your mouth as you swallowed the last bite of cupcake. “Well, we're talking about revolutionary and passionate times, you know. I mean, Stendhal had his characters reflecting all that intensity. Have you read Goethe’s Werther?”

Travis smirked, shaking his head. “Ah, yes, the Werther book. The one with the famous suicide, right?”

You grinned, raising an eyebrow. “That’s the one. The famous suicide and the iconic outfit. I know it gets heavy, but I’ve always liked it.”

He chuckled, nodding as if to humor you.

“My sister made me read it as a teenager, actually. I thought Werther was too… sentimental for my taste.”

You tried not to smile too widely, picturing a young, disinterested Travis, brow furrowed over Goethe’s verses.

“I get it. I was probably more sympathetic to Werther than I should’ve been. I’ve always been a bit of a romantic myself, so maybe it made sense to me. Though I’ll admit, he does get insufferable.”

“Definitely insufferable,” Travis said, still amused. “I’ve always been more into horror anyway.”

The comment made you smile—Travis had a whole shelf at home stacked with DVDs and old VHS tapes of classics like Nightmare on Elm Street, Cujo, and The Birds. You’d teased him about it, of course, but there was something oddly endearing about it too.

As the conversation flowed, a faint twinge made itself known in your stomach, and you shifted in your seat, trying to ignore it. You’d had a glass of beer and two tall glasses of water before coming over, so the feeling wasn’t exactly a surprise.

“I’ll be right back,” you murmured, excusing yourself as you rose from your spot.

In doing so, you glanced over Travis’s shoulder, only to catch sight of Joel and Clara by the pool. Brenda had moved elsewhere, leaving Clara at Joel’s side, closer than casual. She was leaning into him, her hand resting against his shoulder, tucking a stray curl behind his ear, her laugh light and flirtatious. Joel didn’t seem uncomfortable with her proximity. In fact, he was smiling back at her, his gaze locked on hers in a way that made your heart sink just a little.

You looked away, feeling a strange pang that you couldn’t quite justify. Had he been ignoring Clara before simply because you were there, next to him? But now, alone with her… he didn’t seem to be ignoring her at all.

As you headed toward the house, you forced yourself to shake off the thought. You slipped through the door and let out a sigh of relief, the cool interior air calming your nerves. Walking quietly down the hallway, you reached the bathroom and knocked gently to check if it was free. It was unoccupied, so you slipped inside and closed the door behind you. You paused by the mirror, glancing at your own reflection, almost surprised by the tension in your eyes.

What was Joel doing, looking at Clara like that? Wasn’t he still with Sienna? And what would she think if she saw him now, flirting? It was hard not to wonder if Sienna was like Clara, someone completely different from you.

Clara was a flash of brilliance, a woman who looked like she’d walked off a magazine cover, golden curls that fell like soft waves of sunlight, her skin bronzed from Texas summers, her green eyes glinting with a brightness that made her seem almost elemental, like an extension of the sun. Her voice was soft, delicate; every word felt chosen, measured. She was flirtatious, always laughing, always seemingly content with the way things were. You could almost imagine that Clara might be Joel’s type—a vibrant, sunlit presence. It would make sense; he was her opposite in every way. When you thought of Joel, you thought of nighttime, the murmur of crickets outside a darkened window, strong coffee and smoky whiskey, a deep, hidden undercurrent.

And you? You weren’t sure what you were. You weren’t quite the night, nor the day. Maybe you were something in between, or maybe you were just… undetermined. You wanted to think you had some affinity with the moon, but even that seemed too defined.

You sighed, breaking your gaze from your reflection as you felt an urgency to finish up. A moment later, you were washing your hands, the warm water and lavender soap grounding you a bit as your mind drifted again, wandering along with the suds down the drain. You dried your hands with a soft cotton towel, inhaling the fresh, clean scent.

But when you opened the door, you froze in place. Joel was standing there, leaning casually against the wall, his hands tucked behind him. He had been staring at the floor, but as soon as he heard you, his gaze flicked up. There was an intensity in his expression that made you pause, waiting for him to say something, to step aside, to let you pass. But he didn’t move.

When he finally spoke, his voice cut through the small space like a slow crack.

“Are you with him now?”

“With who, Travis?” you said, sounding more dismissive than you’d intended.

He raised an eyebrow, the faintest trace of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Who else? Or is there another I don’t know about?”

You took a few steps closer, folding your arms, letting your expression go cold and tight, the same way it always seemed to be now, whenever you looked at him.

“I really don’t think that’s any of your business, Joel.” You lifted your chin. “I mean, last time I checked, you haven’t been all that open about your life either. So why would I tell you anything about mine now?”

Joel’s smirk twisted into something sharper. “Didn’t stop you from telling Tommy, did it?”

You shrugged. “Well, you’re not Tommy.”

Joel scoffed, crossing his arms, clearly entertained. “Telling Tommy is practically the same as telling me.”

You lifted an eyebrow, unfazed. “If it makes you feel better, go ahead and believe that.”

But his amusement faded, and he looked at you with something almost searching, like he was trying to find a trace of the way you used to be with him—kind, understanding, open in a way that had made him comfortable. You saw the shift in his face, in the way his eyes flicked between yours, like he was looking for some doorway back to that version of you. But she wasn’t here. Or maybe she was, just not for him anymore.

Then he leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping lower, almost a whisper, as he asked, “Did you sleep with him?”

So you simply met his gaze, letting silence serve as an answer, your lips lifting in a faint, cryptic smile. And then you saw the moment he believed it: his jaw tightened, his breath went shallow, and his eyes seemed to darken, hardening.

The question hit you, and you stayed silent, unsure if an answer would expose the bitter knot you felt at your center. You hadn’t slept with Travis, not yet anyway. But Joel didn’t know that, and you found a petty thrill in letting him wonder, letting him believe what he wanted—that other hands, other lips had erased him from your memory, replaced every touch. That he had no longer been the last man to touch you.

It was pathetic, you knew it, but the curiosity to see his reaction was stronger than anything else. So you decided not to answer, to let the silence lie for you.

“Like I said, none of your business,” you finally said, feeling something small and satisfied flare inside.

Joel chuckled, but it was a grim sound. He looked down briefly, and when he looked back up, there was an almost cruel gleam in his eye.

“Did he know where to touch you?”

You scoffed, turning the question back on him. “Do you really want to know?”

The moment the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You knew Joel well enough to know he would go there if he could. But you couldn’t let him gain the upper hand, not here. If anything, you needed to keep him off-balance, keep him uncomfortable.

“Oh, I’m all ears,” he replied, his smile gone now, leaving only a hard, steady gaze that felt like it was drilling into you.

You felt your cheeks flush, but you held his gaze, determined.

“He was the best I’ve ever had,” you said, letting each word hang in the air, daring him to question it. You tilted your head, feigning a fond, private recollection. “Gentle, but rough when I wanted him to be. And you want to know the best part?”

Joel’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and for a moment, his expression softened. The dark look in his eyes deepened, his smile long gone.

“Afterwards, when I woke up,” you went on, drawing out each word, “Travis was still there.”

Joel’s head dipped, his eyes dropping to the ground, and you took a brief, selfish moment to take in the sight of him, almost broken in front of you. But something twisted in your chest; the satisfaction felt hollow, quickly replaced by a pang of something closer to pity, almost regret. You had an impulse to reach out, to tell him you hadn’t meant it, that Travis wasn’t even in the picture, that he hadn’t been the best or the first or anything. But you couldn’t allow that.

You had to remind yourself why you’d stopped letting Joel in—how he’d left you out in the cold, how he’d made your feelings seem like nothing, as if they didn’t matter enough to consider. You had to remind yourself of Sienna, this woman who felt like a ghost, hovering between you and Joel, even though you’d never even met her. And if he was really with someone else, what was he doing here, pushing and prying, acting like he had the right to know these things about you? Why was he acting like he cared if you’d moved on, or if you were with someone else, when he was so openly flirting with Clara just a few minutes ago in Brenda’s backyard? Had he become a complete asshole, or had he always been like that and you were just now realizing it?

As the memory of it all flooded back, the tenderness you'd felt earlier drained away, replaced by a familiar, suffocating anger. It surged up from somewhere deep inside you, visceral and sharp, and before you could stop yourself, your body moved instinctively—stepping back, away from him—until your back hit the cold wall by the bathroom door. The impact was jarring, but it felt like a small, needed separation.

Joel didn’t speak right away. He stood still, his eyes shifting downward, slowly, moving over your body, before meeting your face again. His expression was unreadable, like a mask he didn’t quite know how to remove. It irritated you, this silence, this uncertainty that hung between you two like an unwelcome guest.

Finally, you broke the tension, pushing yourself off the wall and stepping back, away from him. But just as you tried to distance yourself, his voice vibrated through the air, low and deliberate, cutting into your thoughts.

“That’s mine,” he said.

“What?” you managed, almost gasping, your eyes darting between his face and his hands, as if looking for something—anything—to explain this new, impossible tension.

Joel didn’t move. He was still, a presence that loomed larger by the second. His gaze was steady on you, tracing your body and your face, slow and deliberate.

“The flannel,” he repeated, his voice dropping lower, rough around the edges. “It’s mine.”

You looked down at the fabric, the soft, familiar warmth of it, and felt a sudden jolt. God. He was right. It was his. But it had been yours for years. You'd worn it so often, so comfortably, that you'd forgotten it ever belonged to anyone else. Maybe he'd lent it to you once, a lifetime ago, on one of those cold nights when you both sat under blankets. But he’d never asked for it back, had he? He never seemed to care, and you never thought to return it. It had just... stayed with you.

When you lifted your eyes back to him, Joel had moved off the wall, stepping toward you with slow, deliberate steps, closing the distance between you. Too close. He was too close, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body as his presence engulfed you.

“What happened?” His voice was soft, but there was a simmering undercurrent, a teasing tone that made your pulse quicken, though you weren’t sure why. “Did you forget to include it in your little box when you gave everything back to me?”

You felt a bitter chuckle bubble in your throat, an angry little sound that you couldn’t quite hold back. You shook your head slightly, irritated, your chest tight as you opened your mouth to speak, but he interrupted you, his words coming fast, sharper than before.

“Doesn’t your little boyfriend mind you wearing another man’s clothes?” he asked, his voice dripping with something like disdain, like he had been holding that question inside for far too long. His eyes darkened, gliding down to the fabric again, then to your body, before he reached forward, his fingers brushing the edge of the flannel as if testing the boundaries. “Or does he already know this isn’t the only thing of mine that’s wrapped around you?”

A shiver ran through you, a mixture of anger and something else—something hotter, something less easy to define. You didn’t want to feel it, but it was there, and it was impossible to ignore.

No. This wasn’t about that. This was about him—how dare he?

In a sudden movement, your hands moved to the buttons of the flannel, fumbling with them in a rush, eager to take it off, to rid yourself of him. But as you tugged the fabric down over your shoulders, you felt Joel’s hand close around your left wrist, his palm warm against your skin, halting you, slowing you down. The touch was too familiar, too intimate, and it sent a jolt of something you couldn’t quite identify straight to your stomach.

“No,” he said, his voice suddenly low and commanding, like he was trying to anchor you, like he was trying to hold you in place. “It’s yours. Don’t take it off.”

You snorted, a dry, incredulous sound, and with an almost violent motion, you yanked your hand away from his, finishing the job of removing the flannel with a sharp tug.

Joel’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening further, and for a moment, you could see the effort it took him to stay still. His eyes lingered on you, tracing your every move, as you held the soft fabric against his chest. You could feel the air shift, feel the weight of his gaze on your skin, and your heart beat a little faster.

You looked up at him, the anger suddenly spilling out of you. “No. You’re right. It’s yours. I should have given it back to you a long time ago.”

His hand moved up to his chest, over yours, taking the fabric from you with a slow, deliberate motion.

“Put it back on,” he said, his voice softer now, like he was trying to smooth over something that had frayed. "It's cold outside."

You wanted to fight it, to say something sharp, but your irritation bubbled up before you could stop it.

“Good thing I live across the block, then,” you blurted, the words coming out thicker with frustration as you pulled your hand free from under his, feeling the heat of his fingers linger on your skin.

Joel's patience was running thin. His hand shot out again, grabbing the flannel in a fist and pulling it closer to you, the fabric stretching between your bodies.

“Stop being so stubborn and put it back on,” he said, his tone more demanding, more urgent. His voice had a sharpness to it now, almost like a warning.

Something inside you snapped. You shoved his hand back hard, with as much force as you could muster, pushing him away—not enough to hurt, but enough to make your point. His body didn’t move, though. It stayed solid, unyielding, the broadness of his shoulders making you feel small, like you were being swallowed by his presence.

Frustration bubbled inside you, gnawing at your chest as you turned sharply on your heels, determined to leave. Your steps were quick, purposeful, as you made your way toward the hallway exit, the air heavy with everything left unsaid between you and Joel. But then, a firm grip wrapped around your wrist, dragging you back to him. You pivoted on instinct, meeting his gaze with eyes darkened by anger, sharp and focused.

For a moment, your mind flashed with the impulse to tear his hand off your wrist, to wrench it away and walk out of this whole mess. But you let it go. Instead, you locked eyes with him, your breath catching as your irritation turned into something more potent—exasperation.

“Enough, Joel,” you said, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “I'm tired of fighting with you.” The words spilled out before you could stop them, and inside, you couldn’t help but wonder how it had come to this—how two people who once fit so easily together had ended up here, so broken and scattered.

“Then let’s not fight,” he said, his voice softer now, almost like he was pleading. There was a quiet desperation in his words, a slight hitch, as if he was offering a fragile truce. “We can—”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” you interrupted, your words sharp and cold, the bitterness clinging to every syllable. “I can’t stand you anymore.” As soon as they left your lips, you realized how hard and cruel they sounded, but you didn’t care. You were exhausted. Tired of the games, tired of the back-and-forth. The anger inside you surged again, hotter than before, as his fingers tightened around your wrist, forcing you to feel the weight of it. Desperation.

“Don’t look for me,” you continued, the words raw and unrelenting. “Don’t talk to me anymore. Don’t look at me. I don’t want anything to do with you. I’ve had enough of all of this. If I could go back in time, I’d change everything, I’d avoid all of this shit.” The heat in your chest built as tears threatened, burning behind your eyes. “But I can’t. I can’t do anything about it, and neither can you, so leave me the fuck alone for once. Avoid me if you can and I’ll avoid you. Pretend I don’t fucking exist. I don't know. Just stop it, Joel.”

The impact of your words hit him like a physical blow. You saw the flash of pain in his eyes, the way his mouth twisted, his face contorting in a wince. Something inside you sank, and for a moment, regret pierced you. But then, the anger pushed the guilt aside. He hadn’t been considerate of you before, had he? And that thought, that realization, let the remorse slip away.

His grip loosened just slightly, but he didn’t release you. Instead, his fingers trailed down to your palm, stroking it gently with his fingertips, his breath shallow and measured, like he was holding himself back from saying something more.

For a moment, you both stood still, suspended in that space, him looking at you, and you trying not to look at him—waiting, anticipating what would come next. What was the right thing to do now? You should walk away. Right now. Now.

But then his voice, quiet and soft, cut through the air.

“You don’t need me anymore?”

“No,” you said, the word escaping before you could stop it. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, and the second it left you, you could feel it: the squeeze in your chest, the twisting of your heart. It wasn’t true, not really. But you wanted it to be. You wanted it to be true more than anything.

Joel’s eyes flickered, just for a second, like they were searching for something in your face that wasn’t there. His expression faltered, his hand falling away from yours, his gaze dropping to the floor, as if the weight of your words had crushed him.

“I know that’s not true, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough with something you couldn’t name, but it was too much. You couldn’t bear to see it.

You shook your head, refusing to let the crack in your own resolve show.

“Maybe not, yet,” you said, your voice colder now, harder. “But I’ll do whatever it takes to make it true.”

With that, you turned away before you could second-guess yourself, before you could see his reaction and let the guilt undo you. You didn’t want to stay. Not now. If you stayed a moment longer, you knew you would apologize, you’d cave, you’d let him back in. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t keep doing this.

You walked quickly back to your seat, each step carrying you farther away from him, from the tension that had become unbearable. You barely noticed Travis’s worried look when you sat down next to him.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “You were gone a while.”

You nodded, forcing a weak, half-smile. But inside, it felt like everything was crumbling. Your bones felt brittle, as if they might snap with the weight of it all. Your body had turned to lead, your muscles drained of all strength. Your eyes, heavy with unshed tears, were a reflection of the ache in your chest.

You just wanted to go home, crawl into your bed, and never come out. The lump in your throat grew larger with every second, and the cold air stung your neck, making you shiver.

“What happened to your shirt?” Travis asked, noticing the way your body had become tense and cold.

You didn’t answer, relieved when he stood and came to stand beside you. You watched as he shrugged off his jacket, his movements gentle, as he draped it over your shoulders and helped you tuck your arms into it.

Once you were warm, Travis slipped his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into him, his soft kiss to the top of your head offering a fleeting moment of comfort. You couldn’t help but lean into him, resting your head on his collarbone, inhaling the familiar scent of his perfume. For a moment, you allowed yourself to feel the comfort of being held, the peace of someone who wasn’t trying to tear you apart.

But then you heard it—the sliding door opening. And you knew.

When you opened your eyes, you saw him. Joel. Walking out of the house, his pace slow, deliberate, as he clutched the flannel shirt in his left hand. His eyes were cast downward, but when he looked up, they locked on you. His expression shifted, something unreadable in the way he looked at you, and your stomach dropped.

He walked toward his table, his fist clenching the fabric so tightly that his knuckles went white, his gaze never leaving you. You couldn’t look away either. It was like a magnetic pull.

At his table, Carla was waiting, her eyes fixed on him like a hawk circling prey. You felt an involuntary surge of disgust. You wanted to stand up, to march over there and shake her, to tell her to leave, to stop, that she was being pathetic. But then, the sharp, bitter truth hit you: Carla wasn’t the problem. You were. She reminded you of yourself—the way you’d clung to Joel, the way you’d let him define you.

Joel spoke, his voice angry and loud enough for you to hear from where you sat.

“I’m going home,” he said, his eyes cutting through Carla as he raised his head to her height. Then he pulled back, holding out his hand. “Y'wanna come with me?”

And there it was—the knot in your chest tightened. Carla nodded, flushed with a victorious smile, and took his hand. The same hand that had held yours just minutes before.

You closed your eyes, sinking further into Travis’s embrace, the ache in your chest spreading, overwhelming.

You couldn’t leave now. Not with him walking out, not with her next to him. What would you do? Cross paths with them on the way out? Watch them walk away together? The thought was unbearable.

“Can we go to your place for a while?” Your voice was small, almost breaking as you whispered into Travis’s chest.

“Sure thing, honey,” he murmured, the warmth of his body offering a small, fleeting comfort against the storm of emotions inside you.

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strangererotica · 6 months ago

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EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Steve Harrington x Reader • Includes oral (f receiving) unprotected p in v sex • Utter fucking filth :) Wrote this because I’m so goddamn tired of Summer/the heat, and Steve Harrington raw dogging me on a cool kitchen floor would make it all better… 😆

Tagging @thosefuzzywordfeelings 💕

Steve nestles his cheek against your inner thigh. Sweat slicks your skin and his; it’s mid Summer, hot as fuck. Every room in the house is miserably hot, except for the kitchen, with its cold, tiled floor. It’s so hot that going out didn’t sound fun at all when you and Steve were deciding what to do with your evening. But fucking around on the kitchen floor in nothing but your underwear? That seemed like a perfect way to spend the night…

The cold, smooth tile feels refreshing against your back. You hum softly, stroking Steve’s hair as he rests against your thigh. He’s watching the sweat drip down your skin, the way it catches in the curve where your pussy meets your thigh.

He feels himself getting hard, but Steve decides that can wait. For now, all he wants to do is rest here, watching your pussy glisten in the heat of the afternoon, your scent stronger than ever and so close to his tongue he can practically taste you.

Steve’s tempted to bury his face in your cunt right now, but he holds back, drawing out the moment, building the tension in both your bodies. He blows a cool stream of air against your lips, watching them pucker in response. The air carries your scent back to Steve and he closes his eyes, savoring you.

His self control is faltering; he won’t be able to resist tasting you much longer. As if teasing him for his lack of restraint, you playfully wiggle your cunt in Steve’s face. If you can smell yourself, you know he can. And you know it’s making him crazy.

He gives your other thigh a playful swat, his big paw of a hand putting you in your place: “patience, honey-wanna take my time down here-,” he chides. His hands on you always get you riled up; you like it when Steve uses a little force. You roll your hips again, curving your pussy into Steve’s face, bumping the tip of his nose. His heart practically stops; you’re fucking destroying him. He’s so hard it hurts, the scent of you filling his nose and painting his lungs, a slippery string of your arousal clinging from the end of his nose to your cunt.

He can’t wipe it away, can’t bring himself to, no matter how long he’s trying to wait, trying to stretch this moment. He’d make it last forever, if he could. If Steve had to choose a place to die, it would be right here, in the soft bed of your thighs, surrounded by your most intimate scent, the warmth of your skin against his cheek.

He spanks you again, your pussy this time instead of your thigh. You gasp, a little giggle squeaking out of you at the same time. Your lips flutter in the wake of Steve’s palm, a soft vibration humming through your lower body, electric and warm. Steve’s teeth catch the supple flesh on your inner thigh; he nuzzles his nose into the bite marks he leaves, spreading the string of slick over your skin. His tongue accidentally catches it, rendering Steve defenseless. As the creamy musk of you sinks over his tastebuds, he loses all willpower and restraint.

Steve slides his hands under your ass, tugging you forward so your cunt is pressed against his lips and nose. You choke back a sob as Steve eats you, wet smacking sounds coming from where he’s sucking your juices, his head bobbing as he ruts between your thighs.

Steve’s groaning as loud as you are, filthy, shameless sounds of absolute gluttony, gulping at your release like it’s the only thing that can sustain him. The salt of your sweat mixed with the musk of your cunt is driving him beyond the point of being turned on; Steve’s coming in his boxers before he even realizes it. His hips start bucking as a wet patch of semen darkens the cotton over his crotch.

You watch Steve’s boxers fill up with cum, knowing that your cunt in his mouth is the reason he came without even being touched. It’s so fucking hot, such an ego trip for you, that you feel a surge of confidence and want to dominate Steve even more. You take a handful of his hair and hold him in place, swing a leg over his shoulder till he’s laying flat, with you straddling his face. Steve’s hands immediately find your ass again, groping the plump mounds of fat where your thighs and ass meet (his favorite place in the world) and he’s sucking your lips between his, while you grind your clit against the bridge of his nose.

You extend a hand behind you and place it on Steve’s crotch, feeling the gooey wet patch of semen spread inside his boxers. As you continue to hump Steve’s face, you bring your fingertips to your lips and suck his cum off of them. He watches you spread his semen on your tongue, the way you extend the soft pink pad and let him see, before swallowing it. Steve swears he could come again, just from watching you act like this. Something about the heat has turned you both into animals, acting on your most carnal desires.

Arousal pools in the contours of your body, trickling down your ass to the tile floor. Steve’s tongue finds every drop, pressing his hands against the backs of your thighs, bending your knees into your chest as he eats you. Your pussy is on fire, a beautiful burn that radiates to your center, a twisting spasm that catches you by surprise and unwinds through your body in waves. Your knees seize inward, fingers clutching onto Steve’s hair to keep yourself grounded. Your pussy trembles in his mouth, slippery cum spilling between his lips.

The puddle under your ass squelches as you twist on the floor, slathering the cold tile with your cum. Steve is hard again, his stiff cock dragging across your stomach as he crawls over your body. His mouth finds yours in a deep, wet kiss that’s all tongue and tastes like your pussy. He flips you over, one hand on your shoulder and the other gripping your hair, locking your body between his thighs as he mounts you.

You’re folded into a mating press, your breasts squished to your knees, Steve’s big hands cupping your ass as he sinks inside you. Your cunt swallows Steve whole in one slow, deep thrust. He growls inside your mouth, an open kiss connecting your lips, sweat dripping from the ends of his hair. You clutch at his shoulders, your fingers pressing into the contours of the firm muscles along Steve’s upper back. He rests his forehead against the puffy swell of your breasts squished together, rocking his full weight into yours, pinning you to the floor like conquered prey.

The sound of Steve’s heavy balls slapping your ass is deliciously sinful, a wet, thick sound that reminds you both how much cum he still has left to give you. Steve moves his hands up your body till his palms are pressed against the floor beside your head. You feel him tense, watch the muscles in his chest contract, hear the pretty, desperate grunts Steve makes as he begins to come. You seize on his moment of weakness, throwing all your strength into flipping Steve over. He’s on his back now, with you bouncing on his cock and absolutely ruining Steve in the most glorious way possible.

You drink in the subtle beauty of Steve’s features, each of them like brushstrokes made by an artist’s hand. His eyelids are heavy, half-concealing sleepy hazel eyes, his forehead wet with sweat and lined with concentration. The tip of his strong nose glistens with your sex still coating it, dripping down to pouty, kiss-bitten lips, rosy pink and slack as he surrenders fully to your control.

Closing your hand lightly over Steve’s throat, you slam your hips down against his, forcing his cock as deep inside you as possible. Steve moans, eyes lolling closed as he reaches to pull your lips to his. Whimpering as he empties himself inside you, a thick load of cum deposits against your cervix. You squeeze your pelvic muscles around Steve’s cock as tightly as you can, milking him. His body goes soft beneath you, all the tension draining from Steve’s muscles as the last of his cum drains into your pussy. You lift yourself off of Steve’s cock, watching between your legs as it lands thick and wet against his stomach. He tugs you into his arms, breathless and grinning, dotting your face with kisses and filling your ears with sweet, soft assurances of love…

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aeralux · 1 month ago

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"Let's Get You Cleaned Up" - Aegon Targaryen

Summary: After Aegon fucks you breathless (as always), the only logical thing left to do, is to shower. But who is to say he can resist you there? He just wants to clean you up. ModerAegon!au

Warnings: SMUT; oral (m! and f! receiving); quite rough blowjob (but he is sweet about it); dirty language; x reader; oral in the shower

Words: 3.9k

Notes: Female Reader. No other descriptive language is used.

-- aera xx

You're still shaking, your body recovering from Aegon's brutal passion. Anyone could tell what had just happened in that bedroom, and it was so intense, so all-consuming, you felt like you might never walk straight again. Your legs tremble, collapsed on the bed, boneless and spent.

You can still feel him inside you, stretching you, filling you, claiming you in the most raw, animalistic way. Your cunt throbs in time with your racing heart, a dull ache that speaks of the intensity of your lovemaking. You're sore, exhausted, utterly wiped out - but you've never felt more whole.

Your releases mingle on your skin, sticky and warm, marking you as his. You run your fingers through the mess, marvelling at its slickness and volume. You came so hard, so often, lost in the heat of the moment, chasing that high repeatedly until you were both utterly spent.

"I love you," he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple. "More than words can say. More than I ever thought possible."

Aegon lowers his head, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss. A promise, a vow, a declaration of forever.

When he finally pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours. "You're my everything," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

Aegon's hands roam your body gently, reverently. He traces the curve of your hip, the dip of your waist, the swell of your breast. "I'm going to make you the happiest woman in the world," he promises, his lips brushing against your cheek.

You gaze up at Aegon through your lashes, a playful pout on your lips. "If you really want to make me the happiest woman on earth, you'd come shower with me," you purr, your fingers trailing lazily down his chest. "I feel quite... sticky."

You glance down at your thighs, coated in your mixed releases. "Ugh, look at the mess you made," you tease. "The least you could do is help me clean up."

You stretch lazily, your body still thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure. "Unless, of course, you're too lazy for it," you taunt.

You let the suggestion hang in the air, waiting to see how Aegon will react. Will he rise to the temptation, and follow you into the shower like a good little puppy? Or will he sweep you off your feet and carry you to the bathroom himself?

Aegon's eyes darken with lust at your suggestive words, a slow grin spreading across his face.

He leans in, nipping at your lower lip. "Careful now, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Keep teasing me like that, and I might just decide to lick up every last drop of our mess."

Aegon's tongue flicks out, tracing the shell of your ear. "I'd start at your ankles," he purrs, his hand sliding down your thigh, "and work my way up. Slowly. Thoroughly. Until I reach the source of all that sweetness."

He nips at your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. "By the time I'm done, you'll be begging me to fuck you again. Right there on the bathroom floor, against the cold tiles."

Aegon pulls back, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Or," he says, his voice taking on a note of challenge, "I could always just pick you up and carry you to the shower myself. Hold you close as the water cascades over our skin. Wash every inch of you until you're all clean and fresh and ready for me again."

He raises an eyebrow, a cocky smirk on his face. "What's it gonna be, baby? You gonna let me take care of you?" Aegon waits for your response, his body already responding to the images his words have conjured.

Your breath hitched as his words sent a shiver down your spine. Your messy cunny ached to be filled by him again, the empty throb almost unbearable.

Images of him in the shower filled your mind - wet, glistening, covered in soap. You whined softly, clinging to him like a desperate puppy. You needed his touch, his hands, his cock. Anything.

Gods, he made you absolutely insatiable. "Please," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aegon groans at your needy whimper, your desperate plea. Fuck, he loves seeing you like this, all wanton and wild-eyed, begging for his touch. It's the biggest fucking turn-on, knowing he's the one who drove you to this point, reduced you to a quivering mess.

"That's it, baby," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me what you need. Beg me for it."

Aegon's hands roam your body, squeezing, kneading, teasing. He dips his fingers between your legs, feeling the slick heat of your arousal. You're dripping for him, practically gushing, and the knowledge sends a surge of pride through him.

He circles your clit with his thumb, drawing out a gasp from your lips. "You want my cock, don't you?" he purrs, pressing a finger inside you, then another. "Want me to fill you up, fuck you until you can't walk straight."

Aegon pumps his fingers in and out, curling them, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you. You clench around him, trying to pull him further, and he chuckles darkly.

"Greedy little thing," he murmurs, his other hand coming up to pinch and twist your nipple. "You'll never get enough of me, will you? No matter how many times I fuck you, it's never enough." All you can do is nod in response, quiet gasps escaping from your parted lips.

He leans down, biting at your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. A reminder of who you belong to, who owns this body, this heart, this soul.

"I'm going to fuck you in the shower," he promises, his voice low and serious. "Going to bend you over and take you from behind, so hard and deep you'll forget your own name." All you can do is nod in response,

You walk your fingers down Aegon's chest, marvelling at the hard planes of his muscles. "Mmm, you’re gonna clean me up?" You purr in a breathy tone, your eyes sparkling.

You lean in close, your lips brushing against his ear. "Let me take care of you," you breathe, your hand trailing lower, skimming over his abs. "I want to make you feel good too."

You nip at his earlobe, tugging on it gently. "I'll lick up every last drop," you promise, your voice low and husky. "Make you clean."

Aegon inhales sharply as your teeth graze his earlobe, your words sending a jolt of electricity straight to his cock. Fuck, the way you talk, the promises you make, it's enough to drive a man wild. To reduce him to a panting, desperate beast, ready to do anything, say anything, just to feel your mouth on him.

"Careful, baby," he warns, his voice rough and gravelly. "Keep talking like that, and I might just bend you over the bed and fuck that pretty mouth of yours."

Aegon's hand tangles in your hair, tugging gently, urging you closer. "You want to taste me, don't you?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "Want to wrap those soft lips around my cock and feel it slide down your throat."

He rocks his hips forward, grinding his hardness against your stomach. "I'd fuck your face so hard," he promises, his grip tightening in your hair. "Use your mouth like it's my own personal toy. Make you choke on my dick until you're dizzy and light-headed, begging for mercy."

"But first," he growls, his fingers circling your clit, "I'm going to eat this pretty cunt until you're screaming my name. Make you come on my tongue, my fingers, my cock. Over and over again, until you can't take it anymore."

He kisses you then, hard and dirty, all tongue and teeth and pent-up aggression. A bruising, brutal kiss that leaves you breathless and aching and needing so much more.

"Shower," he rasps against your lips. "Now."

You nod eagerly, a needy whimper escaping your lips as you grind your hips against his hand. "Yes," you breathe, your voice trembling with desire. "Shower…”

He captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans, and your breathless little gasps. His tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you, owning you, branding you as his.

When he finally pulls back, you're both panting, your cheeks flushed and your eyes glazed with lust. Aegon stands, effortlessly lifting you into his arms.

He carries you to the bathroom, your bodies still locked together, your skin slick with sweat and arousal. He sets you down on the cool marble floor, never breaking the kiss.

"On your knees," he commands, his voice low and authoritative.

You obey immediately, sinking to the floor. Aegon steps into the shower, turning on the spray. Water cascades over his body, plastering his hair to his head, and running in rivulets down his chest and abs.

"Be a good girl and clean me up," he orders, gathering shampoo in his hands.

"Use your tongue, baby."

The demand hangs in the air, heavy and dripping with promise. Aegon stands under the spray, the water beating down on his skin, waiting for you to obey. Waiting for you to worship him the way he deserves.

You tentatively approach Aegon's throbbing cock, your tongue out in anticipation. Your heart races as you take in the sight of him, standing tall and proud under the spray, water cascading over him.

You start with little kitten licks along his shaft, your tongue darting out to taste his salty skin. You trace the thick veins running along his length, marvelling at the size of him, the hardness.

Encouraged by Aegon's low groan of approval, you wrap your lips around the leaking tip of his cock. You taste his pre-cum on your tongue and can't help but moan, the sound muffled by his thick flesh filling your mouth.

You start to bob your head, taking him deeper with each pass. Your hands come up to grip his hips for balance as you lose yourself in pleasuring him, in worshipping his cock with your mouth.

Aegon's head falls back with a guttural groan, fingers threading through your hair. "Fuck, just like that," he grunts, his hips rocking into your face. "Take it deeper, baby. Choke on my cock like the good little girl you are."

"That's it, baby," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure. "Take it deeper. Worship my cock like you mean it."

His hips roll forward slightly, pushing his length further into the velvet heat of your mouth. He can feel your tongue swirling around him, tracing the sensitive underside, teasing the weeping slit.

As you eagerly suck on Aegon's throbbing cock, you feel his hands gently threading through your hair. The sensation of his fingers massaging your scalp as he lathers your hair with shampoo makes you moan around his thick shaft, your eyes fluttering closed in pure bliss. Aegon's tender touch, mixed with the dominant way he uses your mouth to pleasure himself, has you absolutely lost in the moment, craving more of his delicious cock.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good," he pants, his eyes locked on the erotic sight of you on your knees, his cock disappearing between your lips. "Such a good girl for me, so obedient, so eager to please."

He rocks his hips in time with your bobbing head, setting a steady rhythm, a tempo that has him hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. You gag a little, but it only spurs him on, making him thrust deeper, harder.

"Look at me," he commands, his voice rough and authoritative. "I want to see those pretty eyes of yours when you swallow my cock."

He pulls back slightly, letting you catch your breath, before pushing forward again. His cock stretches your lips, fills your mouth, dominates your senses. The taste of him, the weight of him, the sheer size of him - it's overwhelming, consuming, all-encompassing.

You gaze up at Aegon through your lashes, your eyes glossy and unfocused. His hands grip your hair, holding you steady as he shampoos your hair and thrusts into your mouth, his thick cock stretching your lips obscenely. The wet slap of skin on skin echoes off the tiled walls, mingling with your muffled moans. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them back, determined to take every inch of him.

You can feel your own arousal dripping down your thighs, pooling on the cold, wet floor beneath you. The sharp contrast of the hard tile against your skin only serves to heighten your desire.

You hollow your cheeks, sucking harder, faster, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock. You can taste the salt of his pre-cum on your tongue, the musky scent of him filling your nostrils. It's intoxicating, overwhelming, driving you wild with lust.

"Such a good little girl," Aegon growls, his hips snapping forward, burying himself deep in your throat. "You love having your pretty mouth used like this, don't you?"

You moan around his length, the degradation and praise only fuelling your desire.

Aegon groans deeply, his cock throbbing in your mouth as he thrusts into your warm, welcoming depths. He savours the sweet submission in your glazed eyes, the way your throat constricts around him as he claims your mouth.

"That's it, baby," he growls, his pace increasing, fucking into your face with abandon. "Take it all. Every fucking inch. You're mine, all mine."

He pulls your head forward, burying his cock to the hilt. You gag and splutter around him, but he doesn't relent, keeping you in place until tears stream down your cheeks.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful like this," he rasps, his thumbs brushing away your tears. "My perfect little cocksucker. Sodesperate for me, so hungry for my cum."

Aegon pulls back, letting you gasp for air, before ramming back in, setting a brutal pace. The wet, obscene sounds of your blowjob fill the steamy bathroom, mixing with his grunts and your muffled moans.

"Gonna fuck this pretty face until you're choking on my cock," he promises darkly, his eyes blazing with lust. "Gonna pump you full of my seed, mark you inside and out as mine."

His balls tighten, his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his peak. "Get ready, baby," he warns, his voice strained."Gonna cum down your throat. Swallow every last drop like a good girl."

With a final thrust, Aegon explodes, his cock pulsing as he empties himself into your waiting mouth.

"Fuck, yes!" Aegon roars, his cock erupting in your mouth, pumping load after load of thick, hot cum directly into your stomach. Thick, hot ropes of cum coat your tongue, fill your cheeks, and you swallow greedily, eagerly, determined not to waste a single precious drop. His whole body shudders as he empties himself inside you, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing over him until he's spent, drained, utterly satisfied.

You swallow every drop of Aegon's thick cum, a few pearly white strands clinging to your chin. As you pull back, gasping for breath, you can't help but cough, your throat used and raw from his brutal thrusts.

You gaze up at Aegon through your lashes, eyes big and doe-like. Your eyes are still a bit unfocused, glassy with lust and submission. Shampoo suds cling to your hair, waiting to be rinsed away.

Aegon's chest heaves as he catches his breath, his cock slowly softening in your mouth. He looks down at you, his eyes dark and intense, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across his face.

"Fuck, baby," he rasps, his voice low and husky. "You took my cock so well. Such a good little cocksucker for me."

He reaches down, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away the stray drops of cum clinging to your chin. "Look at you," he murmurs, his voice filled with possessive pride. "My perfect little princess, all used and marked up."

Aegon straightens up, his hands going to your hair, massaging the shampoo into your scalp. "Let's get you cleaned up, baby," he says, his tone gentler now, almost tender. "Can't have you walking around dirty."

He takes his time rinsing the suds from your hair, his fingers never stopping their gentle massage. The warm water cascades over your body, washing away the evidence of your debauchery, but leaving the memories, the imprint of his touch, his possession.

You hum softly as Aegon's strong fingers work the shampoo through your hair, your eyes fluttering closed in bliss. His thorough ministrations send shivers of pleasure racing down your spine, the warmth of the water and his touch melding into pure magic.

"There. All clean. But don't think for a second that we're done, baby."

His lips crash against yours in another bruising kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, staking his claim, marking you as his.

When his lips claim yours in a searing kiss, you meet his passion with your own, your tongue tangling with his in a sensual dance. The taste of him, the feel of him, it's intoxicating, addictive.

But as the kiss deepens, your knees begin to tremble, the ache of kneeling on the hard, unforgiving tiles finally catching up with you. With a soft whimper, you carefully manoeuvre your body, settling onto the cool floor. The change in position allows the warm spray to soothe the dull throb, and you lean back against the wall, letting the water cascade over your shoulders.

Aegon's eyes darken as you lay back, your body relaxed and pliant in his wake. He drinks in the sight of you sprawled there, wet and wanton, completely at his mercy.

He steps out of the spray, water sluicing down his chiselled body, dripping from his hair, and his stubble. "Look at you," he growls, his voice low and rough. "So fucking beautiful, baby. So perfect."

Aegon drops to his knees, his hands skimming up your thighs, parting them. He leans in, his breath hot against your sex. "I can smell how wet you are," he murmurs, his fingers ghosting over your clit. "Fuck, you're dripping for me, aren't you?"

Without warning, he dives in, his tongue delving into your folds, lapping at your essence. He groans at the taste of you, heady and sweet, pure ambrosia.

"Taste so fucking good," he grunts, his tongue circling your clit, flicking, teasing, driving you wild. "Could eat this pretty cunt all day."

His fingers join the fray, plunging into your heat, curling, stroking, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. He sets a relentless pace, his tongue and fingers working in tandem, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Gonna clean you up, baby," he growls, his words vibrating against your sensitive flesh. "Gonna swallow every drop of your sweet cream."

You whimper and gasp as Aegon's skilled tongue and lips work their magic on your throbbing pussy. Your fingers tangle in his wet hair, tugging him closer, urging him deeper. "Oh gods, Aegon… Yes, more!" You mewl wantonly, your back arching off the slick tiles. Pleasure sparks through your nerves with each flick and swirl of his tongue.

The lewd sounds of his feasting echo obscenely in the steamy bathroom. You writhe and buck shamelessly against his face, too lost in ecstasy to care how desperate and needy you must look. All that matters is chasing more of this bliss he's giving me.

"Please, Aegon, I'm so close…" You whine, eyes rolling back as his tongue zeroes in on your aching clit. Your thighs quiver and clench around his head, your hips rolling feverishly. You can feel the telltale tingle building low in your belly, coiling tighter and tighter.

Aegon growls against your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs as he devours you. The vibrations of his voice against your sensitive flesh make you buck and moan, your hips grinding against his face, seeking more, more, more.

He laps at your clit, sucking it into his mouth, his tongue flicking rapidly. At the same time, he pushes two fingers deep inside you, crooking them just so, rubbing against that spot that makes you see stars.

"That's it, baby," he rasps, his words muffled, his voice dripping with lust. "Ride my face. Fuck my mouth. Let me hear how good I make you feel."

Aegon can feel you tightening, your walls fluttering around his fingers. He doubles his efforts, his tongue and fingers working in tandem, pushing you to the brink.

"Gonna cum for me?" he asks, his voice a dark promise. "Gonna soak my face? Paint me with your cream?"

He seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers piston in and out, in and out, hitting that perfect spot with each thrust.

Your moans echo off the tiled walls, your body writhing under his relentless assault. Pressure builds deep in your belly, coiling tighter and tighter with each flick of his tongue, each thrust of his fingers.

"That's it, baby," Aegon rasps, his voice rough with lust. "Cum for me. Let go. Give me everything."

With a keening cry, you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your thighs clamp around his head, your hips bucking wildly as you ride out the intense waves of pleasure.

Aegon laps it all up, his tongue greedily licking and sucking, prolonging your climax until you're boneless and spent, collapsed against the wall, gasping for breath.

You try to catch your breath as your release trickles down your inner thighs, leaving a sticky trail. With each inhale and exhale, your ample breasts rise and fall, the soft flesh jiggling enticingly.

Reaching out, you gently caress Aegon's cheek, silently praising him for bringing me such exquisite pleasure. Your fingertips trace the sharp line of his jaw, the stubble that has grown there, before delving into his damp hair.

You pull him into you, capturing his lips in a slow, deep kiss, pouring all your gratitude and adoration into the press of your mouth against his. Aegon responds eagerly, his kiss consuming, all-encompassing, leaving you breathless once more.

As you break apart, you gaze up at him through your lashes, a soft, sated smile on your lips. "I love you," you murmur.

Aegon's heart swells at your words, your tender touch, the love shining in your eyes. He leans into your caress, his eyes fluttering closed, savouring the feel of your fingers in his hair, the soft press of your lips against his.

When you pull back, he gazes down at you, his expression open, vulnerable in a way he rarely allows himself to be. "Love you too, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with emotion. "So fucking much."

He rests his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. At this moment, the rest of the world falls away - there is only you, only this. The love, the connection, the rightness of it all.

"You're mine," he whispers fiercely, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close. "Mine to love, mine to cherish, mine to protect. Always."

Aegon seals his vow with a kiss, deep and passionate, pouring all his love, all his devotion into the press of his lips against yours. He loses himself in you.

"Now let's get clean… and actually shower this time," he says with a chuckle, holding his hand out to you and pulling you up. "And then we can order food and watch whatever you want," Aegon murmurs against your neck and places a kiss in the crook of your neck.

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omgkatherine01 · 9 days ago

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Can you please do Sergei surprises female reader in the shower and they began to have hot shower sex? Ty

Steam and Surprise

Pairing: Sergei Kravinoff x Fem!reader

Note: Short, sorry! And the gif is just... I had to put it in lol

Masterlist (requests are currently open for now)

The warm water cascaded over your skin as you let out a contented sigh, washing away the stresses of the day. Lost in thought, you didn't hear the bathroom door quietly open. Suddenly, strong arms encircled your waist from behind and you let out a startled gasp.

"Shh, it's just me, my love," Sergei's deep, accented voice murmured in your ear. His muscular form pressed against your back as he nuzzled your neck.

"Sergei! You scared me," you exclaimed, turning to face him. Water droplets clung to his tanned skin and dark hair as he gazed at you with those intense hazel eyes.

"I couldn't resist surprising my beautiful девушка," he purred, cupping your face in his large, calloused hands. His thumbs traced your cheekbones as he let his lips gently against yours. The kiss was warm and tender, a soothing balm that melted away the last remnants of your surprise.

"You always know how to make an entrance," you teased, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. A playful smile danced on your lips, and you could see the corner of his mouth twitch with amusement.

Sergei chuckled softly, his breath mingling with the steam rising from the shower. "You know how much I love it when you’re surprised," he said, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. His fingers slipped down to your waist, pulling you closer until there was scarcely any space left between your bodies. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, mixing with the heat of the water.

Your breath hitched as Sergei's hands roamed lower, caressing your curves. His lips found yours again in a deeper, more passionate kiss. You tangled your fingers in his wet hair, pulling him closer as the water continued to cascade over your entwined bodies.

Sergei backed you against the cool tile wall, his muscular form pressing you firmly against it. His lips trailed hot kisses down your neck as his hands cupped your breasts, thumbs circling teasingly. You arched into his touch with a soft moan.

"Sergei, please," you whimpered, overcome with desire.

He growled low in his throat, lifting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he entered you in one smooth motion. You cried out in pleasure, clinging to his broad shoulders.

The sensation overwhelmed you, each thrust drawing you deeper into an ecstasy that blurred the lines of reality. The soft rush of water became a backdrop to your shared rhythm, the world outside fading away as you lost yourself in Sergei's embrace. His powerful frame held you effortlessly, every movement intentional and filled with a raw passion that ignited every nerve ending.

"Do you feel that?" he murmured against your ear, his breath hot and heavy. "This is ours--just us."

You nodded, unable to form words, the pleasure coursing through you stealing your breath away. His eyes bore into yours, fierce and protective, as if he were guarding this moment against any intruding thought or doubt. He was a force of nature, and in this steamy sanctuary, it felt as though nothing could touch you.

With each thrust, Sergei pushed you closer to the brink, and your body responded eagerly, arching towards him in desperate need. You could feel the tension building within you, coiling tighter with each powerful movement, an electric pulse that threatened to spill over.

"Let go," he urged, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. "Just feel."

His hands gripped your hips, guiding your body as you moved together in perfect harmony, the water cascading around you like a veil of warmth and intimacy. Your breaths mingled, each gasp and moan echoing off the tiled walls, creating a symphony of passion.

As you felt the wave of pleasure cresting, you buried your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent--earthy and wild. The world faded even further; it was just you and him in this moment, suspended in time. With each thrust, he drew you closer to the edge where exhilaration met bliss.

"Let me hear you," Sergei murmured, his tone commanding yet tender. His hands tightened around you as if he were trying to anchor you to him, to this moment. The pressure inside you swelled, a tidal wave ready to crash.

You gasped his name, a plea and a promise rolled into one. "Sergei," you breathed, the syllables trembling on your lips.

"Good," he encouraged, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated against your skin. "Let it go."

With one final thrust, the world exploded around you--the heat of the water, the hardness of the tiles, and the strength of Sergei wrapped around you like a cocoon. You cried out, a sound filled with pure abandon as waves of ecstasy washed over you. Each pulse sent shockwaves through your body, each soft whimper mingling with the sound of rushing water.

Sergei’s grip on your hips didn’t falter; he held you tight, guiding you through the storm of pleasure. His own breath quickened as he chased his own release, eyes locked onto yours, his expression fierce and filled with unrestrained need. The moment stretched endlessly, a sweet eternity as you both rode the crest of bliss together.

With one last surge, he surrendered to the waves that crashed over him, his body tensing as he filled you completely. You felt the warmth spread between you, mingling with the hot water cascading down your bodies, creating a cocoon of sensation that enveloped you both.

As the storm began to settle, Sergei’s grip loosened slightly, but he didn’t let you go entirely. Instead, he held you close against him, his heart pounding in rhythm with yours. The sound of the water continued to cascade around you, a gentle reminder of the world outside this intimate bubble.

You gently placed your hands on his cheeks, guiding his gaze to meet yours before leaning forward and pressing your lips against his gently, tasting the saltiness of your shared passion mixed with the warmth of the water. Sergei's eyes softened, and he responded with a kiss that was both tender and possessive, a silent promise that this moment would linger long after the steam had dissipated.

#kraven the hunter #kraven smut #kraven oneshot #kraven x reader #kraven x you #kraven movie #sergei kravinoff #sergei kravinoff x reader #aaron taylor johnson #one shot

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evan-collins90 · 3 months ago

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McDonald's Embarcadero Center (1975) - designed by the firm, Environmental Planning & Research

"The recently opened McDonald's in San Francisco's Embarcadero Center is a complete departure from the usual gold-arches-suburban-drive-in image usually associated with one of America's most popular chains of fast-food restaurants.

Although the design solution provides an entirely new look for the restaurant, it still meets McDonald's specified requirements of non-movable furnishings, fast turnover, flexible seating patterns and pre-established seating/circulation/equipment relationships. In addition, it stayed within the given budget and was completed at a cost of $22.00 a square foot, excluding kitchen.

A total environment was created using specially treated elm wood in a single color tone for walls, floor, ceiling and seating benches. Color accents come from green plants and burnt orange table tops.

Seating for 155 is provided by free-standing benches or wall banquettes which run continuously around the dining area forming seating clusters to accommodate from one to ten people. Tables rest on floor-attached pedestals, and the benches have fully tiled bases making floor maintenance easier. The burnt orange table tops are of a resin material which is heat resistant and easy to clean. To conceal McDonald's standard 24-inch square trash receptacles (18 in all), the designers created architectural forms which also serve as planters.

Of special interest is the ceiling and lighting treatment which is an integral part of the overall design and reflects the restaurant's seating patterns. It also provides variations in light levels; helps absorb sound; and houses heavy mechanical equipment."

Scanned from the Sept. 1975 issue of Interior Design Magazine

#design #interior design #interiors #architecture #my scans #colorful #eco #wood #70s #1970s #mcdonalds #sf #san francisco #embarcadero center

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futureplayboibunnie · 1 year ago

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Aphrodesiacs Pt. 7

Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader

You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

i bust my ass for this one. nuff said.

NSFW as always 18+

“Ay, por dios.” Miguel whispered under a strained whine of a breath.

Why? Why did he give in and go to a place he had no business going to? Every slip of the mind, every slip of the tongue, small-minded, aware decision led up to such a thing. He couldn't remember the last time he was ever this stupid that didn't have disastrous consequences. Miguel was a smart man but he wasn't thinking with his head, he was thinking with his dick, which was hardening with every second he spent in this small bathroom with you. It felt like the pale tiles on the walls were thickening by the minute, making it even more impossibly stuffy. Miguel hooked a finger in the collar of his compression shirt, the humidity of each other's company getting worse.

You on the other hand couldn't believe he would even show his face here. You thought that maybe if you were lucky, you'd find someone else to satiate your desires that were never really satiated. Every moment you spent attempting to pry open the door, the more you weren't sure you were handling this. You thought you could. Well, you thought .you could try and keep it to yourself at least, not letting an entirely lewd comment slip from your salivating tongue except for that off-the-record phone call. Maybe at least telling him would alleviate a light fraction of this. Your mouth was full of things you wanted to say, you were sure you were about to burst- so you groaned out instead, the resistance the door providing wasn't helping. Your fist indented into the metal handle, and you realized your strength doubled tenfold while he was in the room. You leaned back on the door and closed your eyes, slumping into the wood. Miguel was pacing before finally gripping his hands onto the sink and hanging his head down, occasionally stealing glances into his reflection. He looked pissed. He was pissed.

He couldn't be anything other than pissed and aroused when you were here, looking delicious in that tiny little bikini. He'd rip it off with his teeth if he had to.

“This is all your fault.”He snapped his unkind gaze back at you, his eyes beaming a deplorable void of blood red. His fangs ripped out of his gums as he stood up straight.

“Oh really?” You crossed your arms, scowling up at his sour expression. “Your 'higher authority' is really pissing me the fuck off right now. What are you doing exactly that's helping the situation?” You pointed an accusing finger at him, unable to control your bare feet inching forward.

“Who was the one that instigated all of this?” Miguel glared at you like you just caused nuclear annihilation.

His lips were split into an unreadable frown, his skin radiated heat and searing hot anger that you were desperate enough to let make your knees buckle and turn limp. It was obvious by the way your eyes widened and the way your lips parted. You paused for a minute to stare at him and it honestly felt like hours, like you could look at him for hours. The tension got thicker and thicker, your eyebrows tensed as your face formed into a desperate wince- whining out. You buried your head in your hands and sighed, rubbing the skin of your face in an attempt to try and compose yourself.

It wasn't working.

You peered back and him and the way he was leaning on the sink with those massive arms crossed, looking down at you with an equally desperate and vacant face he was attempting to conceal made you lean your head back on the door and bite your lip. Miguel was staring at your lips, he wanted to bite them and draw blood as you drooled.

He swallowed thickly. Miguel sighed and raked an impatient hand in his hair to try and stop ogling at you, but it was impossible.

His eyes were designed to stare at you only

His lips to be on yours only.

His hands to feel your skin only.

His cock to be in your pussy.

Only.

“I said don't look at me like that.” He demanded huskily, his eyes dilating beyond comprehension as your mere frame clouded his brain into a hazy yet wild sex-driven lust. Your nipples hardened under the thin fabric, he glanced at them and he wanted to roll his eyes back into his skull. You flashed him a teasing look, unable to control yourself.

“I'm sorry I never listen or do what I'm told.” You gave him a mischievous smirk, not feeling sympathetic in the slightest, sincerity was not evident. You were toying with him and Miguel an itching hungry slice of him was dying to play. “I expect all your women just...do what they're told. Sitting at the foot of your bed like a kicked animal, begging for a good fucking.” You chuckled lowly as you said the words, enjoying the fact that Miguel was starting to play along too, scoffing and smirking at you like you were stupid. His feet were mindless, inching closer and closer to you without even realizing it. Spellbound by your scent, he was wrapped in your game, your mesmerizing fantasy. How many rounds before he realized how near he was to eternal glory, heaven incarnate before reminding the safest place he could be was the void? God, he wanted your heaven though, to lose himself in you.

“What about yours? Your men.” Miguel retaliated but without the force, he usually would, this time he was curious, his voice was low and filled with traces of disdain.

“My men?” You flicked your tongue on your back teeth before presenting him with a faux pout. “Awh my men…”

Your confidence simmered a little when your eyes caught onto the fact he was so close, looming. He put his palms on either side of your head, trapping you and in turn trapping you in this little dance of death that never ended. Eyes widening a twinge, you could clearly see your glinting reflection in the black pits of his iris, his gaze was ravenous, eating you and fucking you with just that. You met him with a half-lidded expression, smiling lazily as his breath was fanning your skin. The way he was this close to you had to be illegal.

“The ones that mediocrely please you, thinking they did something but in reality you were desperate for me...whimpering my name in their ear, making them insecure and questioning who I am...hm?” Miguel smiled crookedly, presenting you with those pearly white fangs as he saw through your side pieces. You were about to start salivating, you wanted to stick your tongue out and lick them for him.

“You think too much of yourself.”

“Oh really? Don't let your ego lie to you.” Miguel chuckled, drinking in every moment of this little interrogation like a thirsting animal, he could do this forever.

“Did they suck your cock in your office, under your desk? How many pitiful blowjobs did you endure? Avoiding me really is shit, huh?” You were mocking him, brows tensing and ensuring he was about to sever a nerve. His nose flared as he breathed deeply, you were enjoying mixing his brain up with every single emotion anyone could ever experience. Miguel felt a chain break inside of him, one of his hands left the door and squeezed your cheeks, turning your head from side to side a fraction as if he was examining you, a whimper left your lips at the contact. He was properly touching you with his cold, apathetic hands. It felt like pure bliss combined with inexplicable torture.

“Such a dirty mouth for someone with such sweet lips.” He cooed, eyes transfixed on such a divine beauty. Your confidence was shattering in his palm, a helpless look swiped across your face and his fingers clutched onto your skin tighter- he felt the blush pierce his fingertips. 'Tell me…” He gritted through trapped teeth “Does it physically hurt when you think about me? How bad you want me.”

Miguel's face was unkind and exceptionally determined, darkened and ashen about all the things he's had to endure when he just merely thought about you.

“You want me to be honest?” You reaffirmed softly, flitting probe on his lips, biting your own to conceal a broken moan that would fall away at any unexpected moment. Miguel sighed raggedly and leaned into yourear, your scent surrounded him and he was hard as a rock. It was his favorite. So sweet. Euphoric.

“Yes.” His hot breath tickled your ear and made the small hairs on your neck stand up. You hummed in agreement, he leaned back and his hungry ogling landed back on your face.

“But I thought we were avoiding each other.” You quipped with that flirtatious smirk that could send any man up to the clouds searching for a paradise that they can't have.

“I don't care. You're mine. Only mine.” Miguel was washed over by a venomous possessiveness, his jealousy knew no bounds when it came to you. It didn't matter if you were on the other side of the world or in front of him, it didn't matter if you were actually together or not, you both wanted each other. You were his. His property. The toy that he could never play with.

“That's a little unfair don't you think?” You pouted again. “You avoiding me makes me mad when you know how much we're both unraveling. You could've cum on my face weeks ago but no, you wanted to stick to your moral code. That seems to be more important to you. ”

“Every time you look at me, I contemplateit.”

“Even now?” You took his hand in yours and placed a taloned finger in between the string that held your bikini at the front, you swiped it down and the string snapped with an unbridled ease. Miguel was following alone with your ministrations like a confused and lost puppy, his face switching between confused, aroused, and amused.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Your tits fell free, nipples hardened and perky under his electricity glare. He was turning into a bloodhound as he saw what he had been fantasizing about in real-time. He swallowed thickly as he witnessed your chest rise and fall, completely hazy and blissed out. Very pleased with yourself. Very pleased. Miguel was enclosed in a state of hunger and itching pain. The more he told himself he wasn't able to do something, the more he wanted to do it, to prove it wrong. It was the hegemonic masculinity rearing its ugly head as always but he just couldn't help it- it was in his DNA. Miguel was a broken man, aching for release from the beautiful torment that your presence constantly provided, that your presence constantly reminded. You had finally done him in, finally made him crack. Tiny beads of sweat dot his forehead, it could be mistaken for dew drops that your soft lips could kiss off, maybe if this were photo season- but alas this was real life and it's been a real fight just to keep his mind from committing treason. But you were here, standing in front of him, you without even uttering the words. Miguel was battling demons, he didn't know how to deal with someone else’s. That's why he never let anyone get too close- except you. Now you were here, begging him to kiss you without even saying it.

“Now...my turn. Tell me...every single thing you've ever wanted to do to me.” You breathed, eyes glinting with a warm and inviting hue, bright and dim all at once, radiating sincerity. You leaned in slightly and poked your tongue out and licked one of his fangs slowly. It felt like his heart was being strangled and his dick was about to break. His blood was roaring. Any remaining shred of consciousness he possessed had disappeared the moment you did that.

Miguel didn't wait anymore, his breath hitched when he grabbed your face harshly and kissed you. His lips seeking to find yours, to taste the forbidden fruit that he longed for, that he tried so long to resist. But his resistance was futile, he wanted to be good but he knew deep down he wasn't. He wasn't a good man, no matter how hard he wanted to convince the world and himself he was, especially his society. Your body stilled and felt like it was about to evaporate due to the sheer heat that was pent up inside your body- now it had a semblance of gratifying release. His kiss was fiery and passionate, angry and desperate as he shoved his tongue in your mouth to taste the wet sweetness he was made to taste. Your lips reciprocated his actions eagerly, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him so close. You moaned into his mouth, eyes screwing shut as his tongue massaged against yours, diving into the back of your throat. A low rumble reverberated in his chest as you let out that pretty sound. The way you were reacting resembled that of a horny virgin that had never been touched. Any other man didn't matter because you weren't touched by him. The thought made him lose it.

Miguel grabbed your hips and held you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around your waist. His hands and fingers gripping onto your smooth skin, talons pinching. He grunted as he hurridly and unkindly sat you on the sink, standing between your thighs. Miguel's hands were rough and calloused, he buried his hands in your hair and pulled hard, your lips biting against his before he kissed the shell of your ear.

“You wanna know? Fine, I'll tell you.” He gritted out through clenched teeth, his jaw grinding together, if he applied more pressure, sparks would fly from his teeth. “You have no idea what I've been through. You think you do but you don't. I have denied everything. Every need, every desire, every urge and impulse I have ever had for you.”He breathed raggedly in your ear, his talons scraping your scalp. “I can't eat. I can't sleep, I can't control myself because of you. Control was the only thing I had left. I should give a shit about losing it but I don't. I can't. You're mine. Only mine. Got it? Any other guy even thinks about looking at you I'll put a bullet between their eyes.” His strained husky whispered taunts made your whole body shudder. You lolled your head back as he kissed and bit down your neck.

This honestly felt like a special event. Like a christening of sorts. Well, christening wasn't really the right word to use considering how filthy you both were.

“Oh, is that right.”

“My property.” He groaned raggedly. The way that word settled on his tongue made you melt, it was like he was made to say that to you.

“Your property? Even though you aren't actually mine and I'm not actually yours?”

The words slipped from your tongue, sending a sour note splattering through you. Why did you even say that? It didn't matter. Well, it didn't matter for now. Maybe it will soon. Miguel was a little stunned by it and he didn't want to think about it either, his stomach flipped and fluttered but he didn't even let a second pass before he suppressed the feeling

“No one else will see me this way. Only you.” He hoped that was enough.

You unhinged your trembling jaw to say something but then you heard a loud bang. You and Miguel both stopped in your tracks and turned your head like antelopes after grazing. You yelped at what you saw at the doorway. It was Peter and he finally got the door open. Miguel's face dropped to an anxious frown, embarrassment radiating off of him at Peter walking in on a scene like this. You immediately crossed your arms and contorted your body away so that he couldn't see the fact that you were topless. “Peter, what the fuck?!” Miguel bellowed.

“Jesus H. Christ.” Peter covered his eyes with his palm, slightly flustered at what he had just witnessed. “What the hell? I thought you guys would've been done by now. I locked the door like half an hour ago! That's more than enough time for you both to finally have the balls to fuck each other.”Alarm bells started ringing in both of your heads, he was the one that purposefully locked the door. What the hell was he thinking? He didn't understand how dangerous it was. Peter walked away as if he didn't see anything, leaving you and Miguel alone together in silence.

Miguel suddenly snapped back into reality, letting go of this mindless fantasy that tethered him to the danger he tried so hard not to give into. His face fell into a frown. What the hell was he thinking? He couldn't do. this. He couldn't have you no matter how much he wanted to. Miguel's mind was running rampant with so many possible scenarios that he may face if he gave in. He gave up too much to stop now. He needed to take into account his society, and his life's work. His mood darkened at the thought. He raked his hands through his hair, before giving you a vacant look, turning back to the normal snippy and angry Miguel everyone knows. It was like a switch was flipped inside of him- he turned back to cold and untrustworthy, looking at you like he didn't even know you.

You raised an eyebrow at his confusing change in demeanor. He shook his head and breathed out as if he was trying to shake the thought of you away from him. He needed to be smart about this, methodical. He couldn't leave you topless like this, your bikini was snapped in half and he most definitely didn't want any other guy ogling at you practically naked. He averted his gaze to show some form of respect and took off his compression shirt and handed it to you to wear and cover yourself up with. You just glared at him, scoffing at his confused actions. Miguel still didn't look at you when you shimmied it on and then as if by magic, he was drawn to stare at you again- in his shirt, ten sizes too big. For a second, Miguel eyed you like a lovesick fool.

Then, as usual, cold. He winced and then left you. Walking out of the bathroom, not even looking twice at you.

I DID IT AGAIN IM SORRY. (but if i tell you i have a suprise for you next chapter will u not hate me)

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