#I couldn’t find any good ones okay?!
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gr8ntaire · 14 days ago
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sometimes I think abt the fact the first thing abt motogp I ever reblogged on here was that girl so confusing Valentino + Lorenzo edit and upon consideration I rlly think I started in the best way possible LMFAO
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just quit my fuckass job
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gregmarriage · 1 year ago
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okay, but dealing with depression and anxiety from a young age completely rots your brain and tricks you into thinking/believing things about yourself that simply aren’t true. for example: i spent literal YEARS thinking i was the ugliest motherfucker alive, like my face was FUCKED. and now, i’m in my twenties and i’m like, bruh you are the most normal looking guy ever
#me spending my teenage years dating girls and thinking they couldn’t possibly ACTUALLY find me attractive in any way#like it must be pity or something?#nah they genuinely thought you were pretty/hot etc#like you should have believed them but like i get why you didn’t bc your brain was tricking you and that’s not your fault#genuinely can’t describe what i thought i looked like tbh#like i thought my face/body was wrong™️#like yeah normal puberty shit#but also depression/anxiety and gender confusion played a part#like i would look at other girls and think there was something deeply wrong with me because i didn’t look like them (pretty)#but like i know for a fact that those same girls felt as wrong as i did#like brains will completely fuck you over and it’s the WORST#but then you get to a place where you’re like kinda okay?#like i’m still unlearning a lot of that old shit but being able to actually look at myself in the mirror and not feel gross is progress!#like obviously i still have days where i don’t feel attractive but like that’s so normal#no one feels good 100% of the time#either about themselves or in general#i’m not the outlier#even tho i spent half my life thinking i was#also i’ve found that the most beautiful people in the world tend to not believe that#like the outwardly beautiful people who KNOW it don’t tend to feel bad about themselves in quite the same way? ya know?#genuinely have known some of the most beautiful amazing people who don’t believe it about themselves and it’s so bizarre to me#and like okay vaguely hypocritical but imao we know this#i will always make other people know they’re beautiful and i love them before myself and i always have#but again i’m working on that#working on trying to do both#loving my friends and reminding them they’re beautiful bc they are#and also learning to not be so hard on myself#anyways idk random thought i’ve had lately#gwen rambles#gwenposting
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dear-ao3 · 3 months ago
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so. as you may know it’s christmas eve. as you probably don’t know i am eastern european. and probably the only real tradition anyone holds onto is christmas eve. normally my great aunt does all the food and very begrudgingly sometimes lets everyone help make like. one thing.
well.
this year. the year of our lord two thousand and twenty four. she decided she was done cooking and it was up to everyone else.
so i got a phone call from my mom a few weeks ago being like hey so. you’re making the cake. got it? good.
the cake in question is a walnut cake. i was entrusted with my great aunts recipe about seven years ago. i’ve made it twice. the first time i fucked up the frosting quantity. the second time i fucked up the eggs. both times were passable at best and notably! my great aunt did not taste either of them.
and i have to make this cake. on christmas eve. it is dessert. for everyone. my extended family will all be eating the cake. the walnut cake. on christmas eve. even my great aunt.
so yesterday, december 23 if you are counting, i went on the annual Last Minute Christmas Food Shopping Trip with my father, watched him climb into the case to get his half and half like he does every year, and stressed about my cake as i made sure i had all of the ingredients.
then. we went to my great aunts house. where i was met with Trial Number 1: The Cognac
this cake has cognac in the frosting. not a big deal really. except for the fact that my mom hates that there is cognac in the frosting. (my mom is hell bent on making christmas eve dinner vaguely healthier. no one else agrees.) and i was to be making the cake in my moms house.
also important to note: we (as in my parents) do not own cognac. mostly because none of us drink.
so my great aunt is like oh i have to give you the cognac. cause she knows. i am baking the cake. the walnut cake. (my dad told her. he is a traitor). and i say okay. sure. this won’t be a problem at all.
so she gives me. a shot of cognac. and when i say a shot. i mean an Entirely Full Shot Glass of Three Hundred Dollar Cognac. in a jar. for the cake. the walnut cake. that i have to make.
upon bringing the cognac home my mom says no we’re not putting that in. the cognac sits on the counter in its jar. no one touches it.
then i was met with Trial Number 2: The Frosting.
this recipe requires a pound of chopped walnuts. first. i couldn’t even find the walnuts. my sister and i searched high and low and in every cabinet we could find but no nuts. i called my mom. and said mom where are the walnuts? and she said. “they’re in the nut bag behind the basement door.”
oh of course. how could i have missed the nut bag? a holiday bag full of bags of nuts that was half hidden by wrapping paper and also behind a door?
in any case. could i have used a food processor? absolutely. did i? no. half because i forgot and half because i didn’t want to accidentally grind the walnuts into a paste. so i enlisted the help of my younger sister to chop the walnuts By Hand while i embarked on the real devil: the frosting.
which remember. is supposed to have cognac.
so i cream my butter. i add my sugar. i’m careful not to over sugar. i taste it a million times. i add my coffee and my vanilla extract (instead of cognac. which is still sitting on the counter) and it was all going so well until. the butter rebelled.
now remember. one time when i made this. seven years ago. i made too little frosting. so i made more this time. and i thought i had all my conversions right but evidently i did not because suddenly there was too much liquid in my frosting and it split.
the frosting for the walnut cake that everyone was going to eat. on christmas eve. the very next day.
i felt like a contestant on great british bake-off getting smited by the tent.
so i did the logical thing and shoved the whole mess into the fridge hoping that it would sort itself out overnight.
then it was time to face Trial Number Three: The Cake Itself.
as i have said this cake is a walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake that has been at christmas eve longer than i have been alive. and it requires no less than ten egg whites. which i whipped and i added to my walnuts and shoved the whole thing into the oven in my two baking dishes.
only to discover no less than 40 minutes later that the batter in the pans was Not Even (despite my best efforts). so i cooked one longer than the other and hoped that i hadn’t monumentally fucked up the walnut cake. like i had the frosting. which was in the fridge. and i was ignoring.
which leads to Trial Number Four: The Egg Yolk Cake
see i had ten egg yolks. i didn’t know what to do with them. my mom said flush them. my dad said make a custard. i proposed making egg nog. my mom said she didn’t want it in the house cause it was too fattening (a blatantly incorrect statement. please, if you are reading this, go drink a glass of eggnog. or some other fun festive drink. food is for the soul.) so i produced a recipe for an egg yolk pound cake. i made it. i still don’t know if it came out good cause i haven’t tasted it. i hope it did. but that was not the point. the point is the walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake.
and the following morning i was met with Trial Number Five: The Frosting Part 2
first i threw my failed frosting back in the mixer and it immediately secreted a brackish combination of vanilla extract and coffee so i did the only thing i could. facetimed my dad and said “father there are problems abound.” and he gave me the fatherly advice of “make it again.”
and so i did.
with more correct measurements. still scared it would split at any second.
though it didn’t.
and i didn’t add the cognac.
maybe no one will be able to tell???
my mom said that if anyone asks the first batch of frosting failed and i had to toss it. this is technically true.
but i had frosting. i had two uneven cakes. and it was time for Trial Number Six: Decorating
decorating cakes is easily in my top ten least favorite activities. decorating the christmas eve walnut cake is easily in my top three least favorite activities. because i am terrible at decorating cakes. and also because it has a filling.
the filling is jam. and i once again made the wrong choice because i put the jam on first before the frosting. which to be fair is what the directions say. but as everyone knows, the directions in recipes you get from your eastern european great aunt are not the real directions. so now i had to smear butter cream. on top of jam. for the filling of the walnut cake. for christmas eve. that we would be eating in a few hours.
and we didn’t have a cake plate. we had a large dish.
i had to use my fingers. i had to use three spatulas. i got jam everywhere. but i did it. and as soon as i set the top cake on top of the filling i realized my monumental mistake: i was supposed to trim down the cakes.
so now they were uneven. and lopsided. and there was nothing i, a mere mortal tasked with the impossible task of making christmas eve walnut cake, could do about it.
so i continued to spread my frosting. which i had enough of. and tried and failed to not get jam everywhere.
in the end it was almost presentable. not great. slightly lopsided. and definitely not as nice as any of my great aunts cakes.
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which left me with Trial Number 7: Chilling It
our fridge was being taken up by other important christmas eve things (though not as important as my cake. the walnut cake) so i had to put it in the car. which was fine because there is snow on the ground.
i covered my cake. the walnut cake. in tin foil and hoped i wouldn’t accidentally squish it. and then i went outside. i tried to steal my moms shoes to walk outside. she was not impressed.
“you know, saph,” she said. “some of the time you’re pretty great. the other half of the time you’re really weird.”
i could not agree more.
i put my cake on the trunk. prayed to the cake gods and went inside.
on the one hand if the cake is good, i will be stuck making walnut cake for christmas eve for the rest of my life. on the other hand, if it sucks i will never have to make another one.
Trial Number Eight: The Tasting still waits.
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acourtofquestions · 5 months ago
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Kingdom of Ash Chapter 66
Chapter; Highlights, etc. (you know the drill😂)
Aelin awoke to the scent of pine and snow, and knew she was home.
Not in Terrasen, not yet, but in the sense she would always be home, if Rowan was with her.
His steady breaths filled her right ear, the sound of the well and truly asleep, and the arm he'd draped across her middle was a solid, warm weight. Silvery light glazed the ancient stones of the ceiling.
Morning—or a cloudy day. The halls beyond the room offered shards of sound that she sorted through, piece by piece, as if she were assembling a broken mirror that might reveal the world beyond
Apparently, it had been three days since the battle. And the rest of the khagan's army, led by Prince Kashin, his third-eldest son, had arrived.
It was that tidbit that had her rising fully to consciousness, a hand sliding to Rowan's arm.
A caress of a touch, just to see how deeply the rejuvenating sleep held him. Three days, they'd slept here, unaware of the world. A dangerous, vulnerable time for any magic-wielder, when their bodies demanded a deep sleep to recover from expending so much power.
That was another sliver she'd picked up: Gavriel sat outside their door. In mountain lion form. People drew quiet when they approached, not realizing that as soon as they passed him, their whispers of That strange, terrifying cat could be detected by Fae ears.
Aelin ran a finger over the seam of Rowan's sleeve, feeling the corded muscle beneath. Clear her head, her body felt clear. Like the first icy breath inhaled on a winter's morning.
During the days they'd slept, no nightmare had shaken her awake, hunted her. A small, merciful reprieve.
Aelin swallowed, her throat dry. What had been real, what Maeve had tried to plant in her mind-did it matter, whether the pain had been true or imagined?
She had gotten out, gotten away from Maeve and Cairn. Facing the broken bits inside her would come later.
For now, it was enough to have this clarity back. Even though releasing her power, expending that mighty blow here, had not been her plan.
Aelin slid her gaze toward Rowan, his harsh face softened into handsomeness by sleep. And clean—the gore that had splattered them both was gone. Someone must have washed it away while they slept.
As if he sensed her attention, or just felt the lingering hand on his arm, Rowan's eyes cracked open. He scanned her from head to toe, deemed everything all right, and met her stare.
"Show-off," he muttered.
Aelin patted his arm. "You put on a pretty fancy display yourself, Prince."
He smiled, his tattoo crinkling. "Will that display be the last of your surprises, or are there more coming?"
She debated it-telling him, revealing it.
Maybe.
Rowan sat up, the blanket sliding from him.
Is this the sort of surprise that will end with my heart stopping dead in my chest?
She snorted, propping her head with a fist as she traced idle marks over the scratchy blanket.
"I sent a letter-when we were at that port in Wendlyn."
Rowan nodded. "To Aedion."
"To Aedion," she said, quietly enough that Gavriel couldn't hear from his spot outside the door. "And to your uncle. And to Essar." Rowan's brows rose. "Saying what?" She hummed to herself. "Saying that I was indeed imprisoned by Maeve, and that while 1 was her captive, she laid out some rather nefarious plans."
Her mate went still. "With what goal in mind?"
Aelin sat up, and picked at her nails.
"Convincing them to disband her army. Start a revolt in Doranelle. Kick Maeve off the throne. You know, small things."
Rowan just looked at her. Then scrubbed at his face. "You think a letter could do that?"
"It was strongly worded." He gaped a bit. "What sort of nefarious plans did you mention?"
"Desire to conquer the world, her complete lack of interest in sparing Fae lives in a war, her interest in Valg things." She swallowed. "I might have mentioned that she's possibly Valg."
Rowan started. Aelin shrugged. "It was a lucky guess. The best lies are always mixed with truth."
"Suggesting Maeve is Valg is a fairly outlandish lie, even for you. Even if it turned out to be true."
She waved a hand. "We'll see if anything comes of it."
"If it works, if they somehow revolt and the army turns against her..." He shook his head, laughing softly. "It'd be a boon in this war."
"I scheme and lie so grandly, and that's all the credit I get?"
Rowan flicked her nose. "You'll get credit if her army doesn't show up. Until then, we prepare as if they are. Which is highly likely." At her frown, he said, "Essar doesn't wield much power, and my uncle doesn't take many risks. Not like Enda and Sellene. For them to overthrow Maeve ... it would be monumental. If they even survived it."
Her stomach churned. "It's their choice, what they do. I only laid out the facts." Carefully worded facts and half guesses. An absolute gamble, if she was being honest.
Rowan smirked. "And other than attempting to overthrow Maeve's throne? Any other surprises I should know about?"
Her smile faded as she lay back down, Rowan doing the same beside her. "There are no more." At his raised brows, she added, "I swear it on my throne. There are no more left."
The amusement in his eyes guttered. "I don't know whether to be relieved."
"Everything I know, you know. All the cards are on the table now."
With the various armies that had gathered, with the Lock, with all of it.
"Do you think you could do it again?" he asked. "Draw up that much power?"
"I don't know. I don't think so. It required being ... contained. With the irons."
A shadow darkened his face, and he rolled onto his side, propping up his head. "I've never seen anything like it."
"You never will again." It was the truth.
"If the cost of that much power is what you endured, then I'll be glad not to."
Aelin ran a hand down the powerful muscles of his thigh, fingers snagging in the rip of fabric just above his knee. "I didn't feel you get this wound through the mating bond," she said, grazing the thick ridge of the new scar. A trophy from the battle. She made herself meet his piercing stare. Did Maeve somehow break that part of it? That part of us?
"No," he breathed, and stroked the hair from her brow. "I've realized that the bond only conveys the pain of the gravest wounds."
She touched the spot on his shoulder where Asterin Blackbeak's arrow had pierced him all those months ago. The moment she'd known what he was to her.
"It was why I didn't know what was happening to you on the beach," Rowan said roughly. Because the whipping, brutal and unbearable as it had been, hadn't brought her to the brink of death. Only into an iron coffin.
She scowled. "If you're about to tell me that you feel guilty for it—"
"We both have things to grapple with—about what happened these months."
A glance at him, and she knew he was well aware of what still clouded her soul.
And because he was the only person who saw everything she was and did not walk away from it, Aelin said, "I wanted that fire to be for Maeve."
"I know." Such simple words, and yet it meant everything-that understanding.
"I wanted it to make things ... better." She loosed a long breath. "To wipe it all away." Every memory and nightmare and lie.
"It will take a while, Aelin. To face it, work through it."
"I don't have a while."
His jaw tensed. "That remains to be seen." She didn't bother arguing. Not as she admitted, "I want it to be over."
He went wholly still, but granted her the space to think, to speak.
"I want it to be over and done with," she said hoarsely. "This war, the gods and the Wyrdgate and the Lock. All of it." She rubbed her temples, pushing past the weight, the lingering stain that no fire might cleanse. "I want to go to Terrasen, to fight, and then I want it to be over."
She'd wanted it to be over since she'd learned the true cost of forging the Lock anew.
Had wanted it to be over with each of Cairn's lashes on the beach in Eyllwe. And all he'd done to her afterward. Whatever it might bring about, however it might end, she wanted it to be over.
She didn't know who and what it made her.
Rowan remained silent for a long moment before he said, "Then we will make sure the khagan's host goes north. Then we will return to Terrasen and crush Erawan's armies." He brought her hands to his mouth for a swift kiss.
"And then, after all that, we'll see about this damned Lock." Uncompromising will filled his every breath, the air around them.
She let it be enough for both of them.
Tucked away his words, his vow, all those promises between them and extended her palm in the air between them.
She summoned the magic-the drop of water her mother's bloodline had given her.
Mab's bloodline.
A tiny ball of water took form in her hand. Over the calluses she'd so carefully rebuilt.
She let the gentle, cooling power trickle over her. Let it smooth the jagged bits inside herself and sing them to sleep. Her mother's gift.
You do not yield.
When the Lock took everything, would it claim this part as well? This most precious part of her power? She tucked away those thoughts, too.
Concentrating, gritting her teeth, Aelin commanded the ball of water to rotate in her palm.
A wobble was all she got in answer.
She snorted. "Faerie Queen of the West indeed."
Rowan huffed a quiet laugh. "Keep practicing. In a thousand years, you might actually be able to do something with it."
She whacked his arm, the droplet of water soaking into the sleeve of his shirt. "It's a wonder I learned anything from you with that sort of encouragement." She shook the wetness from her hand. Right into his face.
Rowan nipped at her nose. "I do keep a tally, Princess. Of all the horrible things that come out of your mouth."
Her toes curled, and she dragged her fingers through his hair, luxuriating in the silken strands. "How shall I pay for this one?"
On the other side of the door, she could have sworn that cat-soft feet quickly padded away.
People gawked in the halls, some whispering as they passed.
The queen and her consort. Where do you think they've been these past few days?
I heard they went into the mountains and brought the wild men back with them.
I heard they've been weaving spells around the city, to protect it against Morath.
Rowan was still smirking when Aelin emerged from the communal ladies' bathing room.
"See?" She fell into step beside him as they aimed not for their room and ravishment, but for the hallway where food had been laid out.
"You're starting to like the notoriety."
Rowan arched a brow. "You think that everywhere I've gone for the past three hundred years, whispers haven't followed me?" She rolled her eyes, but he chuckled. "This is far better than Cold-hearted bastard or I heard he killed someone with a table leg."
"You did kill someone with a table leg." Rowan's smirk grew.
"And you are a cold-hearted bastard," she threw in.
Rowan snorted. "I never said those whispers were lies."
Aelin looped her arm through his. "I'm going to start a rumor about you, then. Something truly grotesque."
He groaned. "I dread the thought of what you might come up with."
She adopted a harsh whisper as they passed a group of human soldiers. "You flew back onto the battlefield to peck out the eyes of our enemies?" Her gasp echoed off the rock. "And ate those eyes?"
One of the soldiers tripped, the others whipping their heads to them. Rowan pinched her shoulder. "Thank you for that."
She inclined her head. "You're very welcome."
Aelin kept smiling as they found food and ate a quick lunch-it was midday, they'd learned-sitting side by side in a dusty, half-forgotten stairwell. Much like the days they'd spent in Mistward, knee to knee and shoulder to shoulder in the kitchen while listening to Emrys's stories.
Though unlike those months this spring, when Aelin set down her plate between her feet, she slid her arms around Rowan's neck and his mouth instantly met hers.
No, it was certainly not at all like their time at Mistward as she crawled into Rowan's lap, not entirely caring that anyone might stride up or down the stairs, and kissed him silly.
They halted, breathless and wild-eyed, before she could decide that it really wouldn't be a bad idea…
… If Aelin was being honest with herself, she was still debating hauling him into the nearest closet when they set off to find their companions at last. One glance at Rowan's glazed eyes and she knew he was debating the same.
Yet even the desire heating her blood cooled when they entered the ancient study near the top of the keep and beheld the gathered group. Fenrys and Gavriel were already there, Chaol with them, no sign of Elide or Lorcan.
But Chaol's father, unfortunately, was present. And glowered as they entered the meeting that seemed well under way. Aelin gave him a mocking smile and sauntered up to the large desk.
A tall, broad-shouldered man stood with Nesryn, Sartaq, and Hasar, handsome and brimming with a sort of impatient energy. His brown eyes were welcoming, his smile easy.
She liked him immediately.
"My brother," Hasar said, waving a hand without looking up from the map. "Kashin." The prince sketched a graceful bow.
Aelin offered one back, Rowan doing the same. "An honor," Aelin said. "Thank you for coming."
"You can actually thank my father for that. And Yrene," said Kashin, his use of their language as flawless as his siblings'.
Indeed, Aelin had much to thank the healer for.
Nesryn's sharp eyes scanned Aelin from head to toe. "You're feeling all right?"
"Just needed to rest." Aelin jerked her chin at Rowan. "He requires frequent naps in his old age."
Sartaq coughed, keeping his head down as he continued studying the map.
Fenrys, however, laughed. "Back to your good spirits, I see."
Aelin smirked at Chaol's straight-backed father. "We'll see how long it lasts."
The man said nothing.
Rowan motioned to the desk and asked the royals, "Have you decided-where you shall march now?"
Such a casual, calm question. As if the fate of Terrasen did not rest upon it.
Hasar opened her mouth, but Sartaq cut her off. "North. We shall indeed go north with you. If only to repay you for saving our army-our people."
Aelin tried not to look too relieved.
"Gratitude aside," Hasar said, not sounding very grateful at all, "Kashin's scouts have confirmed that Terrasen is where Morath is concentrating its efforts. So it is there that we shall go."
Aelin wished she had not eaten such a large lunch. "How bad is it?"
Nesryn shook her head, answering for Prince Kashin, "The details were murky. All we know is that hordes were spotted marching northward, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake."
Aelin kept her fists at her sides, avoiding the urge to rub at her face.
Chaol's father said, "I hope that power of yours can be summoned again."
Aelin let an ember of that power smolder in her eyes. "Thank you for the armor," she crooned.
"Consider it an early coronation gift," the Lord of Anielle countered with a mocking smile.
Sartaq cleared his throat. "If you and your companions are recovered, then we'll press northward as soon as we are able." No objections from Hasar at that.
"And march along the mountains?" Rowan asked, scanning the map. Aelin traced the route they'd follow. "We'd have to pass directly before the Ferian Gap. We'll barely clear the other end of this lake before we're in another battle."
"So we draw them out," Hasar said. "Trick them into emptying whatever forces wait in the Gap, then sneak up on them from behind."
"Adarlan controls the entire Avery," Chaol said, drawing an invisible line inland from Rifthold. "To pass north, we have to cross that river anyway. In picking the Gap as our battleground, we'll avoid the mess that would come with fighting in the midst of Oakwald. The ruks, at least, would be able to provide aerial coverage. Not so with the trees."
Rowan nodded. "We'd need to march the majority of the host up into the mountains, then—to come at the Gap from where they'd least expect it. It's rough terrain, though. We'll need to pick our route carefully."
Chaol's father grumbled. Aelin lifted her brows, but his son answered, "I sent out emissaries the day after the battle-into the Fangs. To contact the wild men who live there, if they might know of secret ways through the mountains to the Gap."
Ancient enemies of this city. "And?"
"They do. But at a cost."
"One that shall not be paid," the Lord of Anielle snapped.
"Let me guess: territory," Aelin said.
Chaol nodded. Hence the tension in this room.
She tapped a toot as she surveyed the Lord of Anielle. "And you won't give one sliver of land to them?"
He just glared.
"Apparently not," Fenrys muttered
Aelin shrugged, and turned to Chaol. "Well, it's settled, then."
"What is settled?" his father ground out.
Aelin ignored him, and winked at her friend. "You're the Hand to the King of Adarlan. You outrank him. You're authorized to act on Dorian's behalf." She gestured to the map. "The land might be a part of Anielle, but it belongs to Adarlan. Go ahead and barter it."
His father started. "You—"
"We are going north," Aelin said. "You will not stand in our way." She again let some of her fire kindle in her eyes, set the gold in them burning. "I halted that wave. Consider this alliance with the wild men a way to repay the favor."
"That wave destroyed half my city," the man snarled.
Fenrys let out a low, disbelieving laugh. Rowan snarled softly.
Chaol growled at his father, "You're bastard."
"Watch your tongue, boy."
Aelin nodded sympathetically to Chaol. "I see why you left."
Chaol, to his credit, winced and returned to the map. "If we can get past the Ferian Gap, then we continue northward."
Past Endovier. That path would take them right past Endovier. Aelin's stomach tightened. Rowan's hand grazed her own.
"We have to decide soon," Sartaq declared.
"Right now, we sit between the Ferian Gap and Morath. It would be very easy for Erawan to send hosts to crush us between them."
Hasar turned to Chaol. "Is Yrene anywhere near done?"
He leaned an elbow against the arm of his wheeled chair. "Even with the few survivors, there are too many of them. We'd be here weeks."
"How many injured?" Rowan asked.
Chaol shook his head. "Not injured." His jaw tightened. "Valg."
Aelin frowned. "Yrene's healing the Valg?"
Hasar grinned. "In a manner of speaking."
Aelin waved her off. "Can I see?"
They found Yrene not in the keep, but in a tent on the remnants of the battlefield, leaning over a human man thrashing upon a cot. The man had been restrained to anchors in the floor at his wrists and ankles.
Aelin took one look at those chains and had to swallow.
Rowan laid a hand on her lower back, and Fenrys stepped closer to her side.
Yrene paused, her hands wreathed in white light. Borte, sword out, lingered nearby.
"Is something wrong?" Yrene asked, the glow in her hands fading. The man sagged, going boneless as the healer's assault on the demon inside him halted.
Chaol steered his chair closer to her, the wheels equipped for rougher terrain. "Aelin and her companions want a demonstration. If you're up for it."
Yrene smoothed back the hair that had escaped her braid. "It's not really anything that you can see. What happens is beneath the skin—mind to mind."
"You go up against Valg demons directly," Fenrys said with no small amount of awe.
"They're hateful, cowardly wretches." Yrene crossed her arms and scowled at the man tied to the cot. "Utterly pathetic," she spat toward him—the demon inside him.
The man hissed. Yrene only smiled. The man—the demon-whimpered.
Aelin blinked, unsure whether to laugh or fall to her knees. "Show me. Do whatever it is you do, but show me."
Borte said, "It's not very exciting with them tied down, is it?"
Sartaq threw her an exasperated glare. As if this were a conversation they'd already had many times. "You can be on mucking duty, if you'd prefer."
Borte rolled her eyes, but turned to Aelin, looking her over with a frankness that Aelin could only appreciate. "Any other missions for me?"
Aelin grinned. "Not yet. Soon, perhaps." Borte grinned right back. "Please. Please spare me from the tedium of this."
"And you believe them?" Fenrys asked.
Hasar patted the hilt of her fine sword. "Our interrogators are skilled at retrieving the truth."
Aelin ignored the roiling in her stomach.
"So you free them," Gavriel said, silent for minutes now, "and then torture them?"
"This is war," Hasar said simply. "We leave them able to function. But we will not risk sparing their lives only to find a new army at our backs."
"Some willingly joined Erawan," Chaol said quietly. "Some willingly took the ring. Yrene can tell, when she's in there, who wanted it or not. She doesn't bother to save those who gladly knelt. So most of those she does save were either fools or taken forcibly."
"Some want to fight for us," Sartaq said.
"Those who pass our vetting process are allowed to begin training with the foot soldiers. Not many of them, but a few." Fine. Fine, and fine.
Yrene gasped, her light flaring bright enough that Aelin squinted.
Yrene slumped back, Chaol shooting out an arm to brace her. The healer only took a perch on the arm of his chair, a hand on her heaving chest.
Aelin gave her a moment to catch her breath. To manage such a feat was remarkable. To do it while pregnant ... Aelin shook her head in wonder.
Yrene said to no one in particular, "That demon didn't want to go."
"But it's gone now?" Aelin asked
Yene pointed to the man on the cot, now opening his eyes. Brown, not black, gazed upward.
"Thank you," was all the man said, his voice raw.
And human. Utterly human.
#Chapter 66#Aelin Galathynius#Kingdom of Ash#Sarah J. Maas#First Read along with me NO SPOILERS PLEASE though warning for post & tags up to KoA 66 & more reacts/notes/quotes in tags below#KoA part of chapter 66 (one/two more till Pt. 2)-HomepinetalksknownPeaceCloserBetter-Did it matter now?Revealing what?#A guess lol-She'd known-THE LETTERS-that’s what she had been waiting for-what’s the last card?-Never again it would wreck her only that-#-pain brought that power-AELIN STOP PLANNING A DEATH-Break US-He’s aware-So she said it-I know-I want it over-so it will be-he’ll find a wa#Who and what it made her-A coward-no. Can nehemias ghost pop up and fix that please?-Just over by any meansNot death just not this#Uncompromising will-Enough-Promises-A hand again-Her mothers gift-The most precious part-OW WHY WOULD YOU turn it into that line#putting the AH in Sarah-Given to him again-lol again Gavriel leaving lol-very Feyre of her-wait Is she pregnant? Nope lol-Gavriel arranging#-everything he’d be a great wedding planner-them sharing food I want us to eat well-good ole Mistward days-lol literally no care#Use the elevator folks-THE BIRD RUMOR-and another broom closet lol-YESSSKashin (never thought we’d be here but okay)#naps needed-they are centuries old-okay wait Maeve all of them how old is she?-hearth mothers?-Her faceAn ember-The gap DAMN-#-The river DOUBLE DAMN-The fangs SHIT-Endovier NOPE!-damn the Valg rings I’m so paranoid-They learned-the ChainsThey both held her they kne#Laugh or cry idk-Show me how?War.Fine.What next?!-Erawan AND Maeve NO UGH-Needed to walk & get away uh yeah-damn magic gods-#Yrene and the baby though…what if-he couldn’t for her-The marks-Love is a weakness matches the old script flipped-what it meant-#Only Gavriel would have arranged them with such care.#THE RUMORS SCENE IS EVEN BETTER THAN I THOUGHT LOL#who did he kill with a table leg?😂#HoF full circle lol#His brown eyes were welcoming his smile easy. She liked him immediately.#He requires frequent naps in his old age#Aelin let an ember of that power smolder in her eyes. Thank you for the armor she crooned.—coronation#YES CHAOL standing up for him her everyone—Yrenes feist has taught him well#Rowan's hand grazed her own.#Rowan laid a hand on her lower back and Fenrys stepped closer to her side.#with a frankness that Aelin could only appreciate—Borte had dropped her off before—Nesryn saved#Yrene wreathed in white light-remarkable. To do it while pregnant ... Aelin shook her head in wonder.#And human. Utterly human.
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philosians · 1 month ago
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ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇɴᴄᴇ
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a three week paid-vacation provided by your captain gave rise to the opportunity to finally show you the gift sylus had gotten you. and no, it isn’t the yacht you’re on—but he wouldn’t be opposed to giving you that either.
[ !! ] — mdni | established relationship, smut, breeding kink, pregnancy mention, fingering, oral (female receiving), praise kink, mating press, unprotected sex, sylus is soft in the bedroom okay now hush ;; alcohol mention (sylus drinks whiskey), fluff. oh did I mention soft! sylus?? uhhh maybe more tags than this idk there’s a lot going on lmao. unedited af I know that’s a warning. if y’all see cut sentences just know it’s a brain glitch >.< lol
a/n: Happy Valentine’s Day! phew i got this out before it ended hehe just in the nick of time. I do wanna forewarn everyone I don’t actively write smut so I deeply apologize for any sort of repetitiveness or just it being inaccurate and rushed overall, my apologies. but please enjoy reading! bc i wanna curl up and die and delete this after writing it actually lmao I’ll probably never write anything like this again haha
word count: roughly 4.8k
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The starry expanse of sky moves quickly outside of the window of the car, nothing but a blur of cosmic colors. Where you’re going you’re not quite sure, with all the secrecy from Sylus and the twins. It’s something Sylus has clearly planned for awhile, from the way he wanted you to dress tonight, but you’re still unable to put your finger on it.
At the very least, you’re glad that Kieran is the one that’s driving instead of Luke.
“Are you two going to tell me where we’re going yet?”
“Afraid not, Miss,” Kieran replies. “That’d be against orders from Boss.”
“Are we at least almost there yet?” you ask.
“We have about ten more minutes,” Luke chirps. “Then you’ll finally get to see Boss, don’t worry.”
You’re stunned into a mild fluster and look at your hands in your lap. You heard the twins snicker and you can’t help but shake your head incredulously. Oh well. You’re almost to your destination anyway.
After the last two months of an increase in Wanderer appearances, you could most certainly use a break. It’s been nothing short of hectic, battles here and evacuations there and the occasional dumbass that doesn’t want to listen to the warnings given out that an area is too dangerous to go into.
You softly sigh. You really shouldn’t be thinking about work.
You tug the large coat on your shoulders over you further, closing your eyes and sinking into the warmth and the smell of the man it belonged to.
Whatever in the world Sylus had planned must be big, even so that he couldn’t be bothered to tell even the twins exactly what he had in store. All the three of you knew was that he had a surprise, and the two brothers were more than happy to have the opportunity to have the base to themselves.
You just wish you knew where you were going.
“Is this it?”
“I think so. Ah, there’s Boss.”
Oh, already?
True to word, you open your eyes and see a familiar patch of silver against the darkness of the world. And you also happen to see a very, very large yacht not far from him.
A marina? You blink incredulously. A private fucking marina. Good lord, how much money does this man really have?
Upon stopping, you watch as Sylus turns his head slightly to the car. Luke quickly jumps from the passenger side and opens the door for you, ushering his hand outward dramatically and says, “After you, Miss.”
The heel of your shoe clicks against pavement as you step out, holding Luke’s hand for stability until you find your balance.
“Thanks, Luke.”
“Not a problem! Enjoy the honey— Uh, vacation!”
Luke jumps back into the car, more than likely to save himself from your questioning eyes. You can’t help but shake your head and make your way toward Sylus and the man in uniform, more than likely the captain of the yacht.
“Ah, Mrs. Sylus,” greets the captain with a tilt of his hat. His eyes blink as he does a once-over on you and then laughs. “I was wondering what kind of woman would tie such a man down, and now I understand. Please, come aboard.”
Your brows raise at Sylus as the captain pivots and boards the yacht. “Care to explain that?”
Sylus, in all his audacity, simply shrugs and smiles. “Nothing to explain, sweetie. He came up with that himself after I told him my lady would be joining me.”
You scoff in disbelief, but can’t help the small smile that falls to your lips. You take Sylus’s arm, wrapped your hand in the crook of his elbow as he leads you onto the ship.
“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, gazing around as he takes you to the deck. And you could only imagine what it would be like when you went out to sea.
“I figured you would like it,” he murmurs. “Glad to see my instincts weren’t wrong.”
You don’t miss the way his red eyes look to you, knowing he’s waiting for your words of affirmation. You laugh behind your hand, because yeah, he’s right.
You hum, taking his hand in your own. “Thank you for considering me.”
You also don’t miss the way his large fingers eagerly twine with your own, nor the way his eyes soften and blend with devotion and affection.
“Always.”
Thirty minutes pass before the ship takes off into the open sea. You barely feel it until Sylus has you stand to take you back outside from the dining area.
“So, where are we going?” you ask, gazing up at him.
Sylus’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “It’s a surprise.”
You grumble, humoring the man. “Of course it is.”
Sylus’s coat never leaves your shoulders the couple hours you’re both out on the deck. He seems to enjoy that, too; you wearing his clothes sparks something behind his eyes that you’re all too familiar with. The thought itself has your cheeks warming and thighs pressing together.
He flicks his wrist to check his watch when a timer beeps twice. You can’t help it when your eyes linger on his hand. You’ve always had a fixation on his them—on how big and warm they are in comparison to yours, on how his long fingers stretch across your body, and how they gently wrap around you and pull you close like he’d die without touching you. Those hands that had once forced you to attempt to resonate with him for three days had become soft, remorseful and loving. And he’d more than earned your forgiveness.
“Dinner should be ready.”
You grin. “You brought your chef?”
“Just for this trip,” he retorts, standing to full height. “Come.” His hand outstretches to you and you take it without hesitation.
You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly light up at the way your fingers immediately interlace with his. It’s a small joy to you, but to him it means everything—a testament to how far the two of you have come.
Dinner, as always, is perfect. Dessert even more so. You’re not too full, but more than satisfied. You give your compliments to the chef, who in turn happily skips back to the kitchen like he’s on cloud nine. And you can’t help but look at Sylus and smile as he downs his whiskey like it’s water.
“You don’t compliment your chef enough,” you comment. “One sentence from me and he acts like he’s never heard praise.”
Sylus hums as his brows raise, humored. He chuckles with the whiskey in his mouth before swallowing it to retort, “He knows his cooking is excellent. I suppose I just have a limit to how many compliments I can give out in a day.”
You place your chin in your hand. “Oh, really? Then how many do I get to have in a day?”
Adoration fills his ruby orbs. “As many as you want, my beloved.”
His hand reaches for your left over the table. Sylus’s thumb rubs over your fingers, resting atop your ring finger.
“Have I told you that you look exquisite tonight?” he whispers.
“You haven’t,” you reply cheekily. “I think you owe me a few more, don’t you think?”
The soft music in the background dies as you begin to hear your heart thunder in your ears. You do hope that Sylus can’t hear it pounding away like you can.
“Seems like I do,” he says in an exhale, leaning back in his seat but not letting go of your hand. His eyes have changed—once filled with adoration, now filled with a fire that makes heat rise to your cheeks and desire burn between your legs. “I don’t think I’ve shown you the bedroom yet, have I?”
You grin. “You haven’t. I’d like to see it.”
But what you don’t anticipate is your man standing and abruptly lifting you into a one arm carry. Your sharply inhale in surprise, arms immediately weave around his neck for support, but you know he’d never drop you anyway.
You trail your nose under his jaw, pressing a long kiss to his skin by his ear. Your fingers dig into his shoulder, the subtle presser making him hasten his long strides.
“Sweetheart—” Sylus gulps as you press two fingers to his mouth to silence him.
You pepper slow kisses down his neck, nipping at the skin every other kiss. It’s when you reach his collarbone you hear the click of a door. And seconds later you find the plush fabric of blankets underneath you and Sylus’s firm hand cradling the back of your head as he tilts your head back to capture your lips with his.
Between each heated kiss you attempt to catch your breath, only for your lover to devour your mouth with his own again and again.
“Mmmh— Sylus, let me—” another kiss “—catch my breath.”
He has a hard time pulling away. Sylus rests on one knee at the edge of the bed, hands grasping at the back of your bare calves as he catches his own breath and tries to pull himself back to his senses before he finishes himself off early.
While you toss your head back and close your eyes, trying to let oxygen catch up to your brain, Sylus lifts his head to look at you. He drinks in your appearance—the starry night sky sewn into the strapless obsidian dress (one that he had specially made for you) accentuated your body exactly the way he envisioned.
As he watches your breasts rise and fall with every breath, he feels his pants tighten even more. He’s so painfully hard just from simply kissing you—a testament to what you do to him, how deeply you affect him.
He rests his head against the plush of your thigh. As he trails his hand down your leg, he realizes you still have your heels on.
Your head snaps up at the feeling of one heel coming off, then the other.
“Sylus, what— Oh, shit.”
The momentum of him lifting your body further up the bed and hiking your dress up catches you off guard. His mouth latches to your thighs, kissing and biting all the way up until he reaches the fabric of your panties—the only thing between him and what he wants.
“Such a dark red, darling,” he hums. “Was this for me?”
“It might’ve been,” you tease.
As his finger loops around the red fabric covering you, Evol ready to help rip it off, your hand makes its way into his hair and tugs, forcing his eyes to attention.
“Rip these, I’m okay with that. Rip the dress, and I’ll kill you,” you say, half-joking. But damn did you really like this dress.
He chuckles, eyes glazed with lust. “Understood.”
As soon as he tears them away and hikes your dress even further around your hips, Sylus’s mouth does nothing short of devour your pussy. You let out the loudest, wanton moan you’ve ever heard from yourself as his tongue buries itself in and against your folds. Your head falls back against the pillows, hands moving to grip the sheets beneath you to maintain some semblance of being grounded as Sylus eats you out like a starved man. Your legs are over his shoulders, allowing him the best access to your womanhood.
“Oh— Fuuuck, Sylus. Ohmygod, please don’t stop,” you beg, threading one hand through his hair again, grip tighter than earlier.
His reply comes in the form of him pushing his thick middle finger inside of you and mouth sucking on your clit. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth. His ring finger promptly follows, stretching your cunt and sinking deep inside of your walls. Tears of overstimulation line your eyes as you grasp at then pillow behind your head.
Both hands twine into his silver locks of hair, pressing him deeper into you. What you miss amidst your own haze of ecstasy is Sylus grinding himself against the mattress to find some sense of relief. His mind is at war, wanting nothing more than to cum right then and there versus wanting to watch his seed spill from your hole. It takes every ounce of self-control of his own body to not climax while he simultaneously loses his mind while his mouth is attached to your cunt.
“Don’t— Please— Sylus! Sylus, I’m gonna—”
Your back arches off of the bed, and you can’t help but press him further into you and grind against his face. Sylus’s arms wrap around your thighs, holding you steady. The deep groan of his satisfaction that leaves him only spurs you on further and further and further until your thighs clench around his head and you cum. Hard.
And Sylus more than enjoys sucking and licking away at your release as you climax, prolonging it as much as he can. He lifts your lower body into the air as he continues his onslaught of your pussy with his mouth and tongue, the pressure of your thighs on either side of his head making him dizzy. Your essence coats his chin and nose, your scent driving all his senses wild and pulls the remainder of his blood down to his cock.
He gains a free hand as you tighten your legs around his shoulders. He unbuckles his belt and slips it off with practiced ease before moving to unzip and unbutton his pants, tugging away at them.
When your hips stop shaking is when Sylus grabs your thighs with both hands and sets your body back down on the mattress. He hovers over you once again, taking in your disheveled appearance and partially-lidded eyes. His long fingers brush your skin and cradle your jaw.
“Still with me, sweetheart?” he asks.
You pant and gaze up at him. “Barely.” You swallow. “That tongue of yours is brutal.”
Sylus laughs. It’s almost enough to make him forget about the painful fact that his cock is straining against his pants. Until your knee brushes against it when you lift yourself from the bed and he groans.
You giggle as his head presses against your shoulder.
“You really shouldn’t neglect yourself like that,” you hum, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
Sylus’s lips meet your neck opposite of your arm wrapped around him and presses a long kiss to your sweaty skin, murmuring hotly into your ear, “There’s no one to blame but you, beloved. And I highly suggest you take responsibility.”
You moan and arch into him as his hands work on your dress, unzipping the back entirely and lowering it just below your breasts. You arch your back so he can undo the bra, and as soon as it’s on the floor, his mouth is on your chest. Sylus sucks and bites at your nipples, worshipping them and your breasts as he grinds his clothed erection into your bare pussy, soaking his dress pants in your juices.
You begin unbutton his shirt through the haze of your desire… before you slip your hands through the remaining buttons and fully rip his dress shirt apart, exposing his thick torso. You both chuckle at the sound of the buttons hitting the floor.
“Impatient?”
“Like you aren’t,” you remark.
Sylus shrugs off his shirt in a fluid motion and tosses it to the side from one arm. You manage to slide off your dress within a few moments, just as Sylus manages to get off his pants and briefs and… Oh…
You’d almost forgotten how big he is. Sure, the two of you have spent a couple more… sensual evenings together since you had him use your place as a safe house (and then him bringing you to his), but it always makes you shudder when your eyes land between the apex of his muscular thighs.
His tip weeps with precum, heavy cock red and flushed and—
Sylus’s breath is hot against your ear as he asks, “Like what you see, darling?”
—goddamn it you need it inside of you.
Your nails dig into his bicep, your other hand wrapping around his neck to pull him into a heated kiss, and Sylus is more than happy to oblige. His kiss is deep and reverent. A small moan escapes him as you two briefly pull apart for air before diving back into one another.
Everything is hot; your cheeks are flushed with the heat of desire and your pussy aches to have Sylus buried inside of you.
You pull him down on top of you with the arm around his neck, your other hand grasping his cock and positioning it at your entrance. Sylus hisses, hips bucking slightly as his fingers clench at his attempts at restraint.
“Fuck,” he pants. His red eyes clear for a moment, turning into a gentleness reserved for you as he asks, “You think you can take it?”
“I think you ate me out enough earlier I’ll manage,” you joke. Then your nails dig into the meat of his back, the sensation making him softly hiss again. “But if you don’t I’ll be doing it for you then.”
Sylus chuckles, nose dipping to your collarbone.
“My beloved is always so greedy, isn’t she?”
There is no retort from you—only a loud moan as Sylus’s tip enters you fills the room. He stops after that though, and as you look up to him to ask him why he stopped, you’re stunned at the sight before you.
Sylus is flushed red, panting and sweating as his muscles flex.
“Sylus?”
“Don’t,” he warns, shaking his head. “Give me… a moment. You feel… too good.”
The implication is clear. Sylus’s head falls as he inches himself a little further, delighting in hearing you gasp as he sinks more and more inches of himself inside of you. It takes all he has not to just cum at the feel of you; every ounce of self-control he has is being tested. He’s never been harder in his life, and being inside of the woman he loves—who feels like heaven wrapped around his cock—only proceeds to spiral him into a deeper pit of pleasure.
“Sylus… Sylus, more, please,” you hears you beg.
He’s halfway in, trying to take his time and let the romance of the evening last. But at that, and the sensation of your nails digging into his back, he finds himself a goner and lets his hips fall into yours, sinking the remainder of his fat cock into the depths of your wet pussy. A deep shudder passes through him, bliss running through his body.
“Fuck. Fuck, you feel divine,” Sylus says in a deep exhale.
“You’re so big,” you gasp, eyes clouded with the haze of lust. “Oh, Sy, you feel so good.”
The praise goes to his head immediately. He drags his cock back out slowly and a whine escapes you, hating the emptiness. But when Sylus places your legs over his shoulders and leans over you, it’s over for you both.
Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Sylus rolls his hips, sliding his full length back into the warm expanse of your pussy. His head falls back, and the pace he sets proceeds to bury you both alive underneath overwhelming ecstasy.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he pants, clenching his fist into the sheet. “How I feel every time I look at you? Utter perfection is all I see. Do you feel what you do to me, darling?”
All you can feel is Sylus’s weight on top of you and the feel of his heavy cock inside of you as he stretches you open on him, carving your pussy into the shape of his cock. His pelvis rubs against your clit deliciously, spurring you on further. As much as you want to drive your hips up to meet his thrusts, Sylus has you pinned down into a mating press and all you can do is take what he’s giving you.
The papping noises of your bodies meeting filled the room, sending your thoughts into an even dirtier place. He feels so good reaching so deep inside of you, tip rubbing against that special spot perfectly, like you’re made to be perfect for each other. You clench around Sylus at another thought and he inhales sharply.
“What’re you thinking about?” he questions.
You shake your head. “N-Nothing.”
His long fingers grab your jaw gently. “Tell me.”
And then he slows his pace. “No, Sylus—”
“Then tell me what my beloved is thinking in that pretty head of hers,” he murmurs into your ear. “Or else.”
“I was thinking… about… Uhm…” Sylus rolls his hips back into you, his heavy balls pressing against your ass as he awaits your answer.
“Well?”
“I, uh— A baby.”
At the word, you shy away into your arm. But Sylus doesn’t say anything, which makes you confused. After a couple seconds, you gaze back up at him. His eyes show how stunned he is, pupils blown as no doubt the word also revolves around his own mind.
“Sylus, I— Oh, fuucckk.”
His body weight presses your body into the mattress further, leaving you at his mercy as Sylus’s pace becomes brutal, like he’s let his base instincts take over. His big hand finds yours and twines your fingers together as he drives his cock into your pussy over and over and over again, the squelching noises only growing louder and louder in your ears.
“My kitten… wants a baby then?” He hums into your ear. “She wants me to cum inside of her and carry my baby, is that right?”
“It was… just a thought.”
He laughs as your pussy clenches around him more at his words.
“Seems like it’s more than just a thought.”
Sylus’s mouth meets yours in another kiss, powered by something more than just lust. Your brain turns fuzzy and hot, reality beginning to finally blur as another climax ascends from the depths of your core.
Your eyes shut as his mouth finds the sweet spot on your neck. He sucks and nips at the skin with his teeth and you’ve no doubt that there’ll be plenty of love bites scattered across your skin for days after tonight.
When he nips at your ear, you squeak and clench around him again. Sylus groans into your ear, “Do that again.”
You oblige, clenching down on him and making him piston himself in and out of you faster. Every thrust turns into one that pushes the air from your lungs. All you can see, all you can feel is Sylus—feel his body heat as he presses your body down with his; feel the thickness of his cock stretch you open and the weight of his balls as they slap against your ass.
And it feels so good. The shlick and pap noises are getting to you. The coil that’s been winding up all night finally feels like it’s about to burst. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pressing into Sylus’s firm chest.
“Ohmygod, Sy, gonna cum, gonna cum fuckfuckfuuucckkk!”
He nips at your earlobe, biting down on it gently before whispering into your ear, “Indulge, my love. Indulge and I’ll fulfill every single one of your desires tonight.”
At long last, the coil snaps. Euphoria pilots itself to your brain and all across your body. You shake from the intensity, having to wrap your arms around Sylus to ground yourself as you reach your high.
Your orgasm sends him over the edge. He thrusts a few more times before he finds himself pressing himself as deep as he can possibly go and releasing his seed inside of your pussy. It’s almost too much, even for him. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum harder than tonight.
Your bodies rock together as you both fall from the heights of cloud nine. Sylus peppers your sweaty skin with kisses, across the bruised love bites he’d left earlier.
It’s only when he feels himself soft enough to slip out of you does he ask, “A family?”
Sylus’s voice is soft. So soft in fact that you barely hear him. You take a moment to reply, only to find yourself being easily lifted from the bed and onto Sylus’s chest.
“It’s… Something that’s crossed my mind a few times,” you admit bashfully.
Silence fills the air for a moment before he asks again, in the same, quiet tone he’d just used.
“With me?”
Your smile stretches across your face instantly. Your lips meet his chest, right over his heart. Your eyes meet his—uncertainty meeting unconditional love.
“And no one else.”
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The next three days after are filled with you and Sylus partaking in all the activities that his yacht has to offer (plus more intimate times across the boat and it’s other rooms). He’d told you at one point that he would’ve just used the one he sails on regularly. But due to him wanting to spend more time with you than anything, and for you to have fun during the trip, he’d bought another and hired the captain to ensure safe passage.
Tonight however, was the night that you both were supposed to be arriving at your destination. You tried to help the anxiety and giddiness inside of you, trying to flatten it under a cool demeanor but Sylus just saw right through you.
Of course he would.
“There’s no reason to be nervous. It’s not like I’m taking you into enemy territory,” he jokes, gaze flicking to you from the stars in the open sky.
“I know that. I just can’t help it,” you mutter.
You shiver from the cold breeze, and Sylus shrugs off his leather jacket and places it over your shoulders. He leans down and zips it partway, resting his chin atop your head.
“Those hunter instincts of yours need to settle down,” he hums.
“I wish they would— Sylus!”
A hearty chuckle leaves him as you bounce away from his hold. Your eyes narrow at his treachery.
“What? Did I do something wrong?”
“Don’t you try and tickle me,” you warn playfully. You slip your arms through the sleeves of his leather jacket, trying to pull the sleeves back from over your palms to point at him. “Or I’m gonna tickle you back.”
Sylus smirks and rubs his fingers together. “Is that a challenge?”
“Mr. Sylus, Mrs. Sylus,” greets a familiar voice.
Embarrassment makes you duck your head away from the captain for a brief moment before you look at him.
“Just thought I’d come and let you know we’ll be docking soon.” The captain takes his hat off and bows before you both. “Thank you for allowing me the chance to sail you both for the last three days.”
Sylus nods his head in acknowledgment. “Thank you for giving us safe passage, Arthur.”
Arthur nods, reapplies his cap and heads back to steer the ship into the upcoming port.
You don’t get to watch as he disappears since Sylus wraps his arms around you, pulling your chin to his chest. He presses a sweet kiss to your temple and murmurs, “I do believe we’re here.”
The distraction of the captain was long enough that the scenery before you had changed into the moonlit sea into a large landmass illuminated by the full moon above.
Your jaw drops open at the sight, eyes lighting up as you get closer and closer to the port where the ship would dock.
“Sylus, where are we?” you ask quietly.
“It’s an island,” he states. “One that I bought awhile back and was making… renovations for.”
“Renovations? For what?”
He laughs softly and looks at you like you’re a goddess. “For whom, you mean.”
Your eyes widen into saucers. Is he…? Could he seriously mean…?
“Sylus, you bought me an island?” you inquire, utterly flabbergasted.
“I can’t exactly un-buy it, so I do hope you’ll like it,” he replies. To your ears and yours alone you can hear his wavering tone, like he’s awaiting your disappointment. You can’t have that.
You cup his cheeks and force him to look at you again.
“Sylus, I love it; even if it’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever been gifted, I love it. It’s just going to take me time to get used to it,” you tell him. Then you step on your tippy-toes and give him an eskimo kiss. “Thank you. I love you.”
You kiss him there at the front of the ship, wrapped in his warm, protective embrace, momentarily oblivious to the world and your surroundings.
What you’re also oblivious to, and have been since the start of the trip, is the fat diamond ring that’s been tucked away, hidden in Sylus’s bottom drawer to his dresser. And also to the fact of his other reason of being nervous.
To him hoping that you’ll say “yes” when he gets down on one knee to ask you to marry him.
But he’ll save that for later. Right now he intends to indulge and savor your lips on his and you being tucked into him, safe from the world to be loved and worshipped by him.
And hopefully, for the rest of this lifetime.
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saerotonins · 1 month ago
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big dick!caleb thoughts
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Thinking about big dick!Caleb training your pussy to take every inch of him when the time you’re ready finally comes. 
Him painstakingly stretching your pussy out every other day with his thick fingers, toying your clit so he can easily insert two or three of his fingers when he’s feeling generous enough.
Big dick!Caleb refuses to use any toys because he wants you to feel him and only him, but it was clear to him that you need more stimulation other than his digits (much to his dismay).
The whirring of the vibrator against your clit makes him feel irrationally angry because it should be only him that’s making you feel good. The sinful noises released from your lips should be because of his cock and not some stupid toy. 
Big dick!Caleb who developed jealousy towards the dildo he purchased just to train your pussy to take him so well. The silicone head disappearing into your entrance makes him feel dizzy, wishing it was his cock inside of you. 
You feel his dick twitching from your behind as you settle on his lap as you moan his name, “quit squirming baby, fuuuck, you’re killing me here,” he says as he tries to look for some sort of friction to take care of his raging boner.
Big dick!Caleb who resorted to eating you out while his fingers do their job inside of you, making you come multiple times a night just so he can give you the pleasure you seek while he suffers with his hard-on.
Big dick!Caleb who almost crumbles when you beg him to suck his dick, trying to reciprocate the pleasure he has been giving you for the past few weeks since he can’t possibly imagine how he could fit his whole cock inside of you for the time being.
For your sake, he practices his self-control, saying no to your adorable face because he knows you couldn’t fit him in your mouth anyway.
Big dick!Caleb who resorted to jacking himself off every after session for release, for every pump of his fists he wished it was your pussy clenching around his cock, eager to milk him dry. The stolen panties pressed against his nose doing little to his imagination as he savors the remnants of your smell from the piece of lacy cloth.
His moans ringing against the bathroom walls as he fantasizes putting you in different positions, your walls feeling every vein on his cock while you babble like a bitch in heat, all in his mercy, pumping you full with his seed and leaving no drop behind.
Big dick!Caleb’s patience is running thin, he might have practiced self-control the whole time, upstanding discipline and determination courtesy of his secret training from the fleet coming in handy when it comes to you, but his cock buried deep into your pussy is one thing really needs and he doesn’t know until when he can last.
But when the time finally comes, he’s a goner. He sees your eyes pleading for him to finally fuck you. Caleb hesitates for a bit but when he sees the determination in your eyes, he agrees.
You exhale as you silently encourage yourself to sink on his cock, Caleb’s large hands digging into the fat of your hips, guiding you along his. 
Big dick!Caleb feels pathetic, the moment the head of his dick comes in contact with your hole already makes him weak, his breath becomes uneven as he feels himself stretching you out.
You cry out as you feel the dull ache spreading in your core, you know yourself that Caleb has been very patient in helping you prep for him, you wince as you feel like you already want to tap out when half of him isn’t inside you yet.
Sensing your frustration and the tears that start to well in your eyes, Caleb starts to coax you and your worries away.
“Shh, take it slowly sweetheart, we all have the time in the world, yeah?” He states, a large hand soothing the top of your head and glides along your face. The pads of his fingers find their way on your cheekbones, “it’s okay, you still have me,” Caleb’s voice was comforting, but did little to ease your worries away.
“I just want to make you feel good, you’ve been good and patient with me,” your eyes stare into his depths, keen to get the favor back to him. 
A soft smile spread against Caleb’s lips contrary to the swirl of arousal brewing within him, “I know baby, and I know you’ll do great,” he places a wet kiss against the corner of your mouth, “you can do it, yeah?”
A slow yet determined nod meets his encouragement, and Caleb thinks you’re the most adorable this way.
“Maybe you just need a little bit of guidance, how’s that sound?” His low voice trembles against his chest as you feel his free hand dance towards your pussy. 
“What do you mean— ah!” your question is cut short when you feel his calloused hands pinch the bundle of nerves in your pussy.
“Ah look at you go, baby, already doing so good just f’me, yeah?” You feel his rough pads brush and circle against your clit. You take a sharp breath as you close your eyes, the familiar sensation spreads in your body like clockwork, your head is thrown back as your back arches, chasing his digits.
“See how wet you are, sweet girl? Can’t believe this is all just for me,” His sultry voice echoes against your ears as your hips voluntarily grind against his hands.
You take this as your chance to sink lower into his cock, taking a deep breath as you suck into every inch of his length. Caleb fights every fiber of his being from slamming himself into you, letting you take your sweet time claiming him. “Shiiiit baby, stop teasing me,” you can feel his nails dig into the flesh of your thighs, restraining himself as he waits for your next move.
“‘M not, a-ah, s’too much!” You stop halfway, feeling his cock pulsating inside of you. The lines blurring between pain and pleasure floods your whole being, your mind hazy but still determined to make everything work.
“I knooow, baby, ‘m sorry, but you’re a big girl, yeah? You can do it for me, sweets,” his assurance leaves the tip of his tongue but it’s partially for himself as well. The chains of control making it hard for him to just take the reign and finally get every inch of himself into you but he doesn’t want to hurt you and so he relents, letting you do your thing, at your own pace.
Clutching on his shoulders, you force yourself further down his cock, the delicious ache stretching against your hole prominent but a welcomed feeling nonetheless, you take a sharp breath every time you sink in while feeling Caleb’s hands  on the globes of your ass guiding you down.
Your thighs burn as you keep yourself balanced on top of him until you finally meet his.
You stop on your tracks as you feel yourself settled on his thighs. Wide eyed, you look at him with enthusiasm. “Caleb, I think I did it,” you say in a whisper. But when your eyes met his, it was shut tight, it was obvious that every restraint that he put on himself is working overtime.
Oh how he badly wants to slam himself into you.
Swallowing down and taking a deep breath, he looks at you proudly, “see, knew you could do it, baby.” Caleb hides his face in the crook of your neck, taking your scent in as he controls himself from going berserk. 
You meet him in an embrace, hands exploring his nape as you bask in each other’s presence.
“Baby,” you hear Caleb breathe against you.
“Yeah?”
You can hear him gulp before he says his next words, “can I… move now? Please?” 
To the untrained ear, it might sound like a simple request but to you, it was obvious that it was laced in some level of desperation. You swallow down your nervousness, “o-okay.”
That was the only thing Caleb needed before he lifted your hips up and his thighs started to meet yours.
“Ah!” the sting of his thrust was masked with the pleasure of your pussy hugging his dick. Your back arching from the sheer force and ecstasy his dick is giving you.
Slap! Slap! Slap!
The constant clapping of your thighs echoes through the whole room, every vein on his dick felt in every inch of your walls, the mixture of your moans harmonizing as he indulges himself in every thrust.
“My sweet, sweet, girl, taking my cock like it was hers to claim, you’re so good to me,” his thrusts became more and more violent, the tip of his length kissing your cervix just right. Every in and out feels like he’s hitting every right spot in your body. 
“C-caleb! ‘M sooooo close, nghh ha-ah!” incoherent noises started to leave your mouth, your mind fogged with ultimate lust with the man inside of you.
“Shh, wait for me sweetheart, hold on for me just a sec, ‘kay? You can do it for me,” his encouragement sends shivers down your spine. You could only nod as you were unable to find the words to reply, mind in the gutter as you feel yourself get stretched deliciously, pussy molding every vein in his pounding cock.
Your senses heightened, you feel yourself get closer to your climax, like hanging on a piece of thread, you find it hard to stop, surge of emotions filled within you as Caleb claims you. His fingerprints danced against your skin as he fought everything within him to go rougher.
You soon feel your back hit against the cold and soft sheets of your bed, laying down as Caleb places your ankles on his shoulders, “patience, baby, we’ll get there soon enough,” he says as you feel his lips gently placed on your forehead, a silent praise for how you’re taking him well so far.
Caleb slowly pulls his dick out and as you were about to protest, you feel him slam against you, harsher than his thrusts from earlier. You feel yourself gasp, his fat girth slowly fitting just right into you, “mngh, such tight fucking pussy, glad I trained it to be mine,” your fingers grip the sheets beneath you, knuckles forming white as you let out a mixture of whines and moans, begging him to take more of you.
“Caleb, s’good, hng— moreee!” Your begging does not fall on deaf ears as he rams his cock into you, force harsher than it was and pleasure begins to intensify. 
“Hah, look at you and your cunt getting greedy, sucking me in like a bitch in heat, yeah?” Caleb let out grunts as he lets himself get lost into you. “Fuuuuck, should fuck you like this everyday, get your womb full of my seed and have my babies grow inside of you, yeah?”
“Yes! God ha-ah, fill me up please, ngh—”
“Wan’me to make you a momma so bad, glad I’m treating your pussy like the whore that it is for my cock, yeah?”
“Mh-hmm! Want it— hah— so bad,” your words become incoherent as you get drunk with his cock stuffing you full, you can feel him pulsating as he continuously bullies himself into your tight cunt.
The whole thing feels like sin, but you couldn’t get yourself to stop, feeling every inch of his mean dick brings you ecstasy, your eyes rolling at the back of your head, bringing you higher than any drug ever could.
“‘M close, baby, meet me there, yeah?”
“Uh-huh! Inside p-pleaseee,” you whine, feeling yourself clench against his dick.
“Shiiit, baby, can’t hold any longer when you’re squeezin’ me like this, mngh—” his grunts filled the cool air, jaw clenched as he got closer, dick twitching while feeling your hole hugging every inch.
Caleb gives it a few more thrusts before letting himself go inside of you. White ropes of cum painting your insides as his cock pulsates itself inside, filling your womb full of his seed. Your feet curl at the weird but welcomed sensation, moaning in delight at the satisfying feeling rushing in your body.
Both of you were panting as Caleb fucks his cum into you, “let’s not waste anydrop, yeah, sweets?”
“Ngh, mh-hm,” your whine draws on as he slowly gets all of his seed in your cunt, swiping his tip on the trickling release against your thighs and ass.
Caleb collects himself before cradling your face in his hands, fixing your hair away from your sweat sheened face. He drinks the sight before him, your cockdrunk face and hazy eyes looking at him, exhausted but beyond relieved. 
“You did it baby, ‘m so proud of you, I love you,” he says before kissing your forehead, a gentle and sincere gesture contrary to the intense lovemaking he just did with you.
Dazed and worn out, you decide to reply with a small smile, “love ya, too,” were the last words you said before slowly drifting to sleep.
He lets out a boyish smile and places another chaste kiss on your lips. He never felt this content until now.
Big dick!Caleb swears that from now on, he will make a mold of every inch of him with your tight cunt, like it was made for him to dote and love, fitting right in just like a glove.
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note: this was supposed to be a short ramble but i got carried away, my bad lol.
dividers by @/cafekitsune
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himbodruid · 2 months ago
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Ancient Instinct
Sylus x Reader
-:-breeding kink -:- Sylus loses control -:- consent king -:- primal, carnal, frenzied -:-
Present timeline mirror to A Dragon in Rut
INTENDED FOR 18+ READERS. MINORS DNI.
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“Hey…there’s something wrong with the boss.” Kieran’s voice was filled with concern, enough that you knew it wasn’t some weird ploy by Sylus to get you to visit. Plus, Luke was usually the one that called if Sylus wanted to casually bully you into visiting.
Your phone dinged and you quickly pulled it from your ear to view the message. It was a photo from Luke, showing the destruction of the front room of the base. Furniture was smashed, paintings torn from the wall, and other various decorations thrown about. The brandy decanter that’d been on a side table laid shattered on the ground, along with the two glasses that typically accompanied it.
“Kieran, what the fuck happened?” Worry sank into you as your eyes darted over the photo, hoping you wouldn’t find blood. There weren't really any signs of a struggle, just aimless chaos.
“We don’t know, we thought you might. He came home last night in a scary good mood and then halfway through the night, he just started wrecking the place.”
“We just had dinner and took a walk around the park, there wasn’t anything unusual about anything.” You tried thinking over the night and still couldn’t come up with an answer. “Where is he now?”
“He’s holed up in his room now, but we’re leaving. Before this temper tantrum, he asked us to go pick something up so there won't be anyone here.” There was a hint of uncertainty in Kieran’s voice, as though the twins were reluctant to leave Sylus in the state he was in.
“Okay, that’s fine,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I just got home from work, so I’ll be there in a bit to see if I can talk some sense into him.”
The call disconnected and you hastily packed a bag for an overnight stay in the N109 Zone. You were out the door and on your motorbike in a matter of minutes, speeding through the darkening streets to get to him as quickly as you could.
When you arrived, the house was eerily quiet. There was almost always something from Sylus’s collection of vinyls playing, the sound filtering through the halls from deep within the façade, but not tonight. It was dark, too. Not a single fireplace or lamp was lit. For all intents and purposes, the house was empty. But still you cautiously pressed onward.
“Sylus?” Your voice echoed in the house as you stepped gingerly over the debris, the light of your phone guiding your way. You made your way to his bedroom, knocking on the door.
“Sylus?” You called again when you cracked the door open. A single dim lamp let you see that the room was in similar disarray to the rest of the house. Still, there was no response, and you thought that maybe he’d left.
A feral-sounding growl emanated from the room. It didn’t sound human at all, and you wished you’d brought your weapon. Was all of the destruction the result of a wanderer? Your watch didn’t detect anything but-
“Leave.” Sylus’s voice was strained and…off. Instead of the usual gravel, there was a hint of something more, something beastly. You had heard stories of people turning into wanderers…was it possible that Sylus was a victim to this anomaly?
“Sy, is everything okay?” You dropped into his nickname out of habit, hoping that whatever had taken over his mind would recognize it.
“If you know what’s best for you, Kitten, you will leave right now.” His words echoed in your head, something familiar about them and this situation. You had brief flashes of tapestries and a cave before your mind returned to the present.
“Sy, are you hurt? The twins called me,” you said calmly, stepping further. You still couldn’t see him, but you could hear his ragged breathing coming from deeper in the room.
You had just cleared the archway that separated the sittig area from the sleeping space when you were pushed roughly against the wall. The side table holding the lamp teetered violently before falling over and taking the lamp with it, shattering the bulb. In the brief seconds the light was on him, you could see that Sylus’s pupils were blown wide and his face was flush. In the newfound darkness, his hot breath fanned across your neck in a series of shaky pants.
“Sylus, please. Tell me what’s wrong, you’re worrying me,” you say, raising your hand to cup his cheek. He made a sound like a barely restrained groan as he turned his face into your touch, inhaling deeply. He pressed his lips against your fingers, your palm, your wrist. You were certain that if he’d had a tail, it would be lashing about in agitation.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he growled. “I don’t think I can be very accommodating or gentle right now, Kitten.”
His warning rolled off him, and yet he still pressed further into you. He buried his nose into your neck, inhaling sharply and his lips trailed your pulse.
“S-Sy,” you gasped as his teeth scraped against your skin, in a spot that held an echo of an ache that no longer existed. Worry was very quickly being replaced with something else, something that pooled deep in your core.
“Mmh,” he purred, nuzzling his face against your neck again. “Your scent…steamy and sweet, like cherry wine. It’s been driving me insane all day.”
“Sylus, what-“ your question was cut off when he slanted his mouth across yours. All thoughts escaped you as he consumed you, plunging his tongue into your mouth the moment you opened for him. Worry and doubt fled from you and every sense was filled with him. You’d even forgotten why you arrived at the base in the first place as he hoisted you up against the wall. Your legs hitched up to wrap around his waist and your arms folded around his broad shoulders. He growled in approval, still devouring you as he pressed impossibly close. You could feel him standing at attention, hard and ready, and you wondered how long he’d been in that condition.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice a breathless whisper against your lips.
“Well, I am here. What’s going on with you, you’re worrying me.” You had to tug at his hair to get him to back off just the slightest bit. Even with your eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, his face was too far cast in shadows. He was definitely still Sylus, though- you didn’t see any signs of him transforming into a monster. Just the raging hardon that was pressed against your core.
“Kitten,” he whined, dropping his head against your shoulder. His breathing was ragged, sharp inhales let go as shaky exhales. “This need I feel…it’s like I crave you on some primal level.”
He groaned when you tugged at his hair again, just a gentle pull to guide his mouth back to yours. His chest rumbled in what felt like a purr, the vibrations rolling through you to gather at your already wanting core. You gave your silent consent to him by pulling him closer, devouring his mouth in equal fervor. You gently caught his bottom lip between your teeth and his entire body shuddered.
“You should-” lips found your leaping pulse.
“Run away-“ his teeth scraped the slope of your neck.
“While you still can-“ he latched onto your collarbone, sucking at the spot with a hard draw to create a mark there. You gasped and squirmed as best you could while crushed against the wall by his bulk. The action ground your core against his length and he groaned when he released you from his mouth.
“Take me,” you breathed into him. “Use me. Whatever you need, I’m here.”
He groaned again and hauled you against him, pulling away from the wall to stumble blindly to his bed. There he dropped you onto the mattress, bathing you in the pale lights of the city filtering in from the window. His eyes were still cast in shadow, but you could still see the desire that darkened his expression. He was silent, save for the sound of his heavy breaths, as his hand stroked from calf to hip. Heat blazed from his touch, sinking through the fabric of the leggings you wore.
“Last chance, Kitten,” he growled, the sound rumbling low in his chest. Hands rested at your hip, teasing the waistband in silent question. Though you had already given explicit consent, he waited.
Rather than voicing your answer, and rather than giving in to what he so very clearly wanted, your hands found the collar of his shirt. With slow precision, you unbuttoned his shirt while keeping your eyes locked on his. His breath came in shuddering bursts, his body trembling as you teased him. It was a cruel test of his control, even knowing how close he was to snapping. But you couldn’t help yourself. There was something about seeing carnal desire written in every feature, in every motion, that made you want to take advantage of it.
A sharp inhale, followed by a shuddered exhale when your hand trailed down his newly exposed chest in a tantalizing sweep. He caught your hand before it could trail too far down his abdomen, bringing it to his lips and laying a kiss across your knuckles, and another at your wrist.
And then his lips found yours in a searing kiss to seal your agreement. There was nothing short of passion in the way he devoured you, the way he coaxed you open to tangle his tongue with yours. The heat of his mouth trailed along your jaw, down your neck, searing into any exposed skin he could access until he was stopped my the lapel of the button down shirt you wore. Without warning, he grasped the overlapped edges at the front and ripped your shirt wide open. Buttons flew in every direction and all you could do was muffle your moan with a gasp. Because damn, that show of strength was not one you expected to be so hot. You didn’t even care about the loss of the shirt, you wanted him to do it again.
With the obstruction out of his way, Sylus continued the forge a blazing trail of kisses down your body. The bandeau you wore as a bra was shoved down so that he could swirl his tongue around one nipple and then the other. Soft bites to the undersides of your breasts as he continued downward elicited a sharp inhaled gasp from you. His fingers slipped into the waistband of your leggings at each hip and then tugged, removing them and your underwear in one swift motion. Shyness coursed through you when you were finally fully bared to him, but you didn’t fight him when he held your legs in place, spread for him, so he could rake his eyes up and down you.
His lips found the inside of your knee, teeth finding your thigh, and then his face was dangerously close to your core. You swore you could see his eye flash a quick glow, but the next moments pushed all thoughts and reason from your head.
“I’ll start with your warmest spot…” he murmured against your skin. And then he dipped his head further, his breath fanning against your slick folds. “And until I’m finished, you’re not allowed to stop me.”
And then he descended, overwhelming your cunt with precise strokes of his tongue. You tried to twist away from him, crying out in pleasure, but he held you fast. His gaze bored into you, even as your hands sunk into the silky strands of his hair. He worked you until you were right on the precipice, but then pulled away with a devilish grin before you could crash over the other side. You whined at his unfair treatment until he set about removing his own clothing. Your own gaze devoured him the more he exposed of himself, and fuck he was perfect in every way.
He crawled languidly up your body and settled over you, reclaiming your mouth in a hard, punishing kiss. His knee wedged between yours, pushing and coaxing until you had enough thinking power to wrap yourself around him. This put the head of his cock right at your entrance, and you strained your hips towards him in a desperate bid for penetration. A dark chuckle escaped him when he realized what you were attempting.
“All mine,” he growled. Your knee was hooked over his elbow, one at first and then both as the kiss progressed to a carnal need. You were open fully to him now, and all that was left was for him to take that plunge.
And fuck, did he ever.
His hips snapped forward without hesitation, not even affording you the time to adjust to his girth and length. Not that it was necessary, not when he glided into you easily on the slickness of your arousal. He slammed against you, sinking into you to the hilt, and you couldn’t help the pleasured sound that escaped you. You folded your arms around his shoulders, nails biting into his skin when he tried to pull back. He didn’t get far before his hips jerked forward again, almost off their own accord.
It was as though there was some primal instinct that drove him into you so impossibly deep. You couldn’t understand where it came from, but fuck it felt good. The sensations of his cock slamming into you paired with the guttural moans erupting from him brought you back to that precipice rapidly. So rapidly that you barely had a moment's notice before you came apart around him. Pleasure zipped up your spine, turning your mind blank. All you could do was arch beneath him, crying out his name even as he continued to plunder your body.
He so easily folded you in half and set a pace that was bordering on punishing. What little control he could claim to have had in this moment was gone as he rutted into you. The sounds of your bodies colliding over and over rose to join your pleasured cries and his own grunting moans. You were glad the base had emptied due to his tantrum, because it would be very obvious what was happening should anyone step on the floor landing. Hell, even floors below could probably hear your loud, frenzied mating.
Feeling bold, maybe even mischievous, you lifted your mouth to the jumping pulse at his neck and scraped your teeth against it. Sylus let out a shaky, breathy moan and tilted his head away to grant you more access. With a grin, you bit down on that corded muscle that made up the slope of his neck.
His head fell against your chest with a deep moan, slamming his hips into you hard. Your bite turned into sucking on his neck, raising a mark to show your claim on him to anyone who would dare to look. And he also latched his mouth to your skin, drawing out the same kind of mark.
With a growl, he released your neck to observe the purpling mark he made. His gaze darted to yours, locking eyes with you as his thrusts increased to a breakneck pace. Pleasured expressions flitted across your face and you were almost certain that’s what he was looking for. And then you were arching into him again, crying out his name as your walls pulsed around him. The edge he had been chasing came and went, and he spilled into you with a guttural cry of his own. His hips jerked and slammed into you, his cock twitching as you milked him for everything he had.
He kissed you feverishly, and even as you came down from the high of release, he was still impossibly hard inside you. He rocked into you with small thrusts and you could feel his heart hammering beneath your touch.
“Fuck, how do you feel this damn good,” he whimpered against your lips. His body crashed against yours when you whimpered his name in response, over and over as he chased another release. It came to him with a sharp snap of his hips against yours, a shudder that swept through his entire body, and then more hot ropes of cum were flooding your cunt again.
And he still somehow wasn’t done with you.
A brief respite was all that was granted before he was thrusting deep into you again. At this point, you weren't even sure where you ended and he began. You were beginning to wonder if you would be leaking his cum for days after this encounter, even moreso when he slammed into you again with a guttural, primal cry of ecstasy. This one brought you over the edge with him, the feel of his cock pulsing and twitching inside you drawing release from you without warning.
Finally, after one more orgasm ripped through both of you, Sylus slumped against you. He nuzzled into your neck, soft kisses peppering your skin as you both attempted to regain your breath. He released your legs from his pressing hold and you ran your thighs down both sides of his body, delighting in the way he shuddered again.
You were both a sweaty mess, and you were certain the sheets needed to be changed once he slipped from your body. But he took his sweet time with you, giving gentle kisses that were a stark contrast to the primal possession he just exhibited. The weight and heat of him pressing you into the mattress felt like heaven, and you made a mental note to request this kind of skinship again in the future. Maybe with a little less mess. Or maybe with more, who knows.
You complained when he removed himself from the bed, grudgingly allowing yourself to be carried by him to the bathroom. You were exhausted and couldn’t work up the energy to feel embarrassed as he cleaned you up in the shower, but you were delighted in the way his hands massaged your scalp as he washed your hair. You nearly fell asleep when he blow dried your hair, making him have to carry you back to bed. He slipped you between fresh silk sheets and climbed in behind you, trailing kisses along the back of your neck and shoulders as he wrapped himself around you.
Safe and cozy, you fell into the deepest sleep you’d ever experienced.
And when you awoke to Sylus being gone, you couldn’t help but pout. Until he pushed through the door with a tray in hand, wrapped in his favourite brocade robe. He wordlessly set the tray down in front of you, and you saw it was filled with various crackers, cheeses, and fruits.
“Consider this my apology,” he said with a chuckle as you eagerly dug into the tray. He sat next to you in bed, allowing you to feed him. He was content enough to watch you enjoy the tray, but couldn’t say no when you turned to offer him bites.
“What was that all about anyway?” You ask finally, after working up the courage to not be shy. Sylus’s brows drew down in thought.
“I’m not entirely sure, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced something like that before. I came home to being surrounded by your essence, your scent, and it's like a switch flipped in my head. Like I was possessed. Like some sort of primal instinct that wouldn’t leave until I had you flat on your back with my cock driving into you.”
You blushed furiously at his casual words, occupying your hands and face with more food, so that you wouldn’t put those hands and your mouth all over him in some sort of retaliation. He chuckled darkly and leaned close, inhaling deeply at your neck.
“Mmh. I think I like my scent being intertwined with yours,” he growled into your ear.
Neither of you left his bed for a while following that, and you were grateful it was your weekend.
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hoshigray · 1 year ago
Note
Heyyy. Can I request a college au. Reader is an average, socially awkward person but somehow managed to pulled the campus heartthrob, Geto (or gojo). And he's lowkey obsessed with her and try to be fucking her every chance he gets.
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: why not both? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk, felt like doing a threesome for some reason lmao
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college setting - sex in public places; gymnasium locker room + dining hall + college dorms - oral (m! + f! receiving) - face + throat-fucking - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping, grinding and licking/sucking) - face-sitting - threesome - double penetration; anal and vaginal - cowgirl dp position - anal fingering (f! receiving) - kissing/making out - protected sex (psa: warp it up or get tf up) - overstimulation - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - sato + sugu being whipped over you, hehe~ - slight humor - mention of tears and drool.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k (pretty long for a req, lol)
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“Oh, Y/n, it’s good to see you. Did you have a good weekend? Let’s walk each other to class; I was waiting for you.”
“Y/nnnn! This cold day is so much warmer now that you’re here. Let’s grab something to eat at the dining hall, okay?”
You thought college life couldn’t get any more difficult than it already is. Oh, how you were so wrong… 
Being on your own on campus was hard enough; states away from your family and having to rely on and take care of yourself while also striving for a better education. On top of this, making friends (outside of your roommates Shoko and Utahime) is such a social and excruciating chore as it’s challenging to put yourself out for people to notice you. Making small talk with your peers or talking/discussing group material in classes has your heart racing enough – not to mention trying to commit to clubs – making you feel a bit of a failure as a human being.
With that, you almost dwell on not trying at all. You’re utterly content with your inner circle with your roommates, waking up and heading to classes and back, eating college food, and sleeping after reading for a lecture. This routine of sticking to yourself was a notion you’ve grown to accept and find comfort in — no need to change it if it’s been doing you well this far.
That is until you meet them — Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, the best friends of your roommate Shoko. 
Gojo is the star player of the school’s basketball team, a famous face among the class years, and the “disgustingly tactless, cutesy prince” of your year, as described by Utahime. By morning, he’s a dedicated student in his business administration major and history minor classes; by afternoon, he is his playful, social, and charismatic snow-haired soul, grabbing the attention of others and bringing life to those around him with his bright cadence. In addition, he’s a talented figure, capturing the hearts of many with his model work in fashion shows and playing fan-favorite roles in plays.
In contrast, Geto was a much more mellow star that pulled the hearts of students and professors alike. The raven-haired bioengineering major was a boy whose presence was easy not to notice yet quick to pull you in when making himself known. His tall, docile figure emitted an aura that accompanied the soothing tune of his voice, the perfect combination that made him trustworthy and obliging to the students around him and his lacrosse teammates. With the charming features of a heartthrob and the alluring speech of a leader, he’s someone many would turn to in search of a person to follow and praise.
Satoru and Suguru, two complete opposites – two best friends – who are, without a doubt, the twin stars of this school. However, there was one thing the two shared in common, something that made your heart skip and your mind race every time knowing this fact: the two were unmistakably and sickeningly in love with you!
How? You do not know. It all started when Shoko brought them over one night for dinner, and you saw them for a quick moment in the kitchen, quickly greeting them before rushing back into your room. Next thing you knew, you had begun to see and run into them every so often, which soon turned to at least once per day. And now, like a white bubbly puppy and a black, quietly affectionate cat, you could not shake them off you when and wherever you went.
Oh, it was something you were not used to, being sneaked up from behind by Gojo, who’d pull you in for a hug or lift you with every greeting in public (as if you weighed like nothing)! Especially in classes where Geto would surprise you with his calm voice and a warm hand on your shoulder to check if you were okay before claiming the chair next to you. And you couldn’t push them away — how could you when two of the most renowned faces on school grounds want to be around your presence!? Good Lord, it was all overwhelming, Shoko and Utahime having to step in to beat the boys into shape for making you uncomfortable.
And then there are those times when the two would butt heads with each other because of you! There have been a handful of times where if one had you to themselves, the other would bore glares to the former’s skull. Gojo would suck his teeth with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, white brows furrowed and ticked off blue eyes concealed by his dark circle shades. “Yo, Buddha with bangs, can you let go? Y/n promised to hang with me after their classes ended, and I’d be damned if you’d be third-wheeling.”
“That’s not happening, Satoru,” Geto’s hand grasps yours with more grip, royal purple eyes narrowed at his white-haired friend. “Y/n and I have a presentation to work on for tomorrow. Go lollygag somewhere else.”
Two positive bundles of life will immediately turn hostile when it comes to you, suffocating your very being as you’re stuck in the middle of them. It’s bad enough being with either of them has people notice and talk about you; it’s another thing when you’re being fought over like some small bunny between two snarling wolves. Oh God, why me!!??
But it wasn’t all bad. If anything, being fawned over by the two was a strange thing that has happened to you thus far, and not in a terrible way. Gojo has made you a lot more open and social than before, dragging you to parties he’s been invited to and to his crowded games (where he’s always sure to find you and blow a kiss). And spending time with Geto has sparked instances where you’re courageous enough to speak for yourself with a bit of a push from him, throwing in your inputs for class discussions or having him aid you in knowing your material when you two study together.
The two most popular guys in school who flatter and are obsequious over you. That in itself is enough to make your cheeks and ears dial in warmth, shielding your face in your pillows just thinking about them. You like them both, bound to be drawn in by the handsome boys and their pursuit of you.
However, their infatuation was something you’d find out goes beyond words and handholds. An obsession for you embroidered in their very minds…and bodies.
“…Mhahhh, Go—Mmmph! Gojooo…we shouldn’t be doing this…”
“Aww, c’mon, Y/n, you know I don’t like it when you call me by last name. It’s just the two of us here…Fuck, keep licking it like that…”
Sneaking into the basketball team’s locker room is one thing; sneaking in with the star player in the team with you between his legs on the bench and sucking his dick? Oh, that’s a can of worms you never thought you’d open in your entire life. 
Gojo brings his head back, banging on the locker behind him as the contact of your tongue on his pink tip sends shivers up to his shoulders. “Fuuuck, you feel so good, baby. Gonna make me cum again…” You peer up with lidded eyes as you suck his tip into your mouth, him humming at the warm sensation of your mouth swallowing his length whole. Your face is hot of embarrassment, being looked down on by him as you do such an indecent thing on him in a place of changing for men. 
This was his idea – bringing you to the gymnasium to watch him practice with his teammates for an upcoming game. Then, he pulls you aside once the guys want another fifteen-minute water break, bargaining into the men’s locker room and pulling you in for a hot kiss. Sucking on and nibbling on your lips and tongue has you mewl sweetly for him, distracted as he pulls his shorts and briefs down to expose the erection growing inside him. “Sorry, you just looked too cute watching me from the side,” he’d say with a hazy glint in his eyes shielded by his shades.
So here you are, sucking him off to the hilt, where your lips meet strands of his white pubes, making your boyfriend cum for the second time. Gojo brings a hand to your head for purchase, moaning as your hand massages his balls. “—Ahh, fuck…God, you’ve gotten so good at that, cutie. Can’t get enough of you...”
His words burn your ears, his aroused tone making your face even more hot to bear. Gosh, this was such a dangerous game; your nerves constantly on edge in hopes nobody would walk in.
However, your worries might have been what jinxed your fate because you two heard the door to the locker room open. You instantly move your mouth away from Gojo’s cock and stand to panic. But before you could, Gojo quickly grabbed you by the wrist and took you to one of the bathroom stalls. You sat on the toilet, bewildered at being dragged all over this fitness center. Then, Gojo brings his dick to your face again, and you give him the most shockingly confused expression as if he can’t hear the commotion of two people speaking where they used to be.
“Relax, no one’s coming here,” Liar, we almost got caught! He pushes the tip to your mouth, and you murmur on his length, filling your mouth and throat. “Let’s make this one quick, okay?”
You were too busy registering him place his hands on your head before he could slam himself to your mouth; the sudden thrust of his hips propelling his cock deep into the tight crevices of your throat makes you grip onto his shorts for dear life. The slap of his ruts fills your eardrums; you can’t tell how far or close the two guys who entered the locker room are. He’s making you focus on nothing but him — a selfish objection from a selfish man as he’s using you to relieve himself in the men’s locker room. God, this was such a bad situation, and yet your lower half couldn’t stop the throbs that have you shifting your thighs together. How embarrassing! 
“Hhnnn, fucking shit, your throat feels so good,”  he praises, his slender fingers massaging your scalp. Your tongue brushes the underside of his length in a way that has his pace go faster, and he has to keep his moans to a lower volume. “Shiiit, baby, I’m gonna cum…Take it all in…!”
You have no choice but to, forced to gulp down all of his load that he spills into your tight, warm throat. He still rocks his pelvis into you until every pump of his jizz is inside you. When your ears pick up the sound of the locker room door opening and closing with the dismissal of the two strangers, that’s when Gojo takes his long shaft out of your mouth, spit connecting from your tongue to his cockhead is wiped with haste. 
But then, Gojo pokes your cheek with his tip, a sign that he wants to go again. You throw quiet pleas, “N–No, Gojo! You have to get back to practice—“
“Shhh, those guys can survive a few games without me. And besides,” he gently slaps your cheek with his cock. How vulgar! “I’ll fuck your mouth til the end of the day if you don’t stop using my last name when it’s just the two of us here.” The playful grin on his lips doesn’t make that threat any better. “One more time, please?”
With hesitant eyes, you place kisses on his shaft while stroking him. “Only one more…okay, Satoru?”
He beams with the dimples of his cheeks. “Yes, pretty girl~.”
And it doesn’t stop there — because Geto is no better. 
“Aww, you two are so cute together~”
You squirm on the booth seat you’re sharing with your other boyfriend, you two sitting across from his friends — a senior couple he shares a lab with that invited him for dinner. Unsurprisingly, you were his plus one, knowing you’re not one for being around people you’re not familiar with. And yet here you are, caged by the wall and Geto’s frame to keep you in this conversation on the side of the busy dining hall.
Geto chuckles before brushing your cheek, "Aren’t we? But they’re the cutest thing to me.” He says as he places a swift kiss on your cheek; it’s an action that has your face grow in warmth — and the couple “awwing” at his affection.
The guy of the couple speaks to the dark, long-haired other. “I never knew you were one for relationships, Geto; you seem so busy with Bio and your clubs that you don’t seem to have time to lay low and be with someone.”
“Mmm, I thought so, too. That is until I met Y/n through a friend of mine,” you jerk at the silent touch of his pinkie grazing your thigh, noting it had sneaked under your skirt to graze its skin. Your eyes peek in his direction, finding that he remains eye contact with the guy he’s talking with. “And, you know, I got to know them here and there, shared some classes with them on the side. Now, I just can’t imagine them being out of my line of sight.”
The guy across laughs. “Sounds kinda obsessive!”
Geto shrugs with a chortle. “I guess it’s like that, I don’t know. I’m just really crazy about them; they’re my sweetheart after all.”
“That’s so sweet!” The girl senior across exclaims, turning to you to ask, “So, how long have you and Geto been a thing, Y/n?”
The question has you stumped for a bit as you weren’t ready to be thrown inquiries. And before you answer, you feel Geto’s hand rub on your thigh. “U-Umm, me—ahem—Geto and I have been a couple for quite a while now? My roommate was the one who introduced me to him—Mmmm!” You briskly flatten your lips at your squeak because the fingers inside your skirt pinch your skin. On command, you spread your legs for Geto to insert his hand inside your panties.
The girl asks more questions. “Oh? So, your roommate brought you two together. Did you know of them before?” 
“Well, not really…She and Geto—Ohh!” You bring your hand to your lips at the graze of Geto’s forefinger on your clit. You turn to him and are immediately locked into his violet gaze. He lifts a brow with an undisturbed smile, and you gulp. “I–I mean, Suguru and my roommate have been best friends since high school, so I kinda got…Nnmm,” you chew your lips when he bullies a digit between your folds to play and tease. “She was the one who introduced me to him…”
“Is that so? Hehe, it’s amazing how the world works, huh?” You listen, but your mind is too focused on Geto’s digits swiping and nestling across your wetness to have your body more excited about his touch. And it gets worse as he inserts his forefinger inside your vagina, causing you to jolt and suppress your mewl by leaning into his shoulder, gripping onto the sleeve of his turtleneck. “Here are two lovebirds all lovey-dovey with each other thanks to one friend bringing them together. It’s crazy imagining you two would’ve never met hadn’t that happened.”
Geto hums at that comment, “I agree; I have to thank Shoko for bringing this little angel to my arms.” He places a soft kiss on your forehead, completely nonchalant compared to the quickened pace of the digit scraping your insides. “Isn’t that right, my love?”
With trenched brows and a shaky breath, you try to reply to the awaiting couple. “Mhmm, yes, I’m so grateful that Suguru is in my life…He’s been such a help to me,” his forefinger goes slow, having you feel every dent and knuckle. “Hahhh, he’s so good to me, and I love him just as mu—Mmmph!!”
“Hmm? Are you okay, Y/n?” How can you tell the guy across from you that your boyfriend’s thumb just surprised your clit with a swipe?  You’d rather melt on this floor had you not buried your face into Geto’s shoulder. 
Speaking of who, he takes the initiative to answer for you. “I think they’re a little parched, must’ve been this lemonade I got for them. I’ll go get them some water—“
“Oh, no, no! I’ll go get the water; I was gonna get more of those garlic knots anyways.” The girl stops Geto from moving, sliding from the booth seat with her boyfriend’s hand to follow suit. “C’mon, let’s leave these lovebirds for a bit. We’ll be right back!”
And so they leave, thanking your lucky stars. Once their figures are nowhere to be seen within the sea of students, you probe the man with a trembling whimper. “Mmmph, Suguru, please, take it out before—Ahhh…! They come back…”
Luckily, he listens to your request with no argument, withdrawing his digit from your wet slick and underwear. And to your horror, he brings the finger to lick and suck and says with a dark look, “Just checking to see what I’ll be having later.”
It doesn’t matter wherever or whenever; Gojo and Geto will be sure that their love for you is expressed to you every chance they get. 
It doesn’t matter the day or hour, whether you are free from assignments, spending time with your roommates, or on your way out to study; those two will find a way to get to be with you. And, to be honest, it can be a bit overstimulating! 
When there are dates to the movies with Gojo, there’s private alone time with Geto on his bed as he eats you out. And when there are days when Geto holds hands with you and walks you to your classes, there are nights when Gojo will fuck you til his cock is warmed inside you in his slumber. It can go either way, the two competing for your affection and time when the other is out of sight. 
Again, sometimes it’s overwhelming for you, never knowing which of the two will have you all to themselves, nor knowing when you can have time to yourself! And it’s not like you haven’t tried putting your foot down to express your wish to be alone. But, albeit it can be utterly exhausting, you know those two love and cherish you so much that it drives them crazy. Hell, it’s driving you crazy just how much they can’t keep their hands off you! 
Especially now when they drag you to their shared dorm room, experiencing one of those days when the two wish to have you in the same presence. 
“Hahhh, damn, Y/n…you’re sucking me off so good,” Geto purrs with a whistle while lovingly patting your head. “So good for me, huh, sweetie?” 
The two stripped you off your clothes to be nude with them on the bed. Your naked frame straddles above Gojo, lying on his back with his face buried into your bare cunt for his mouth and tongue to please you orally. Meanwhile, you suck on Geto’s girth as he leans on the pillows and headboard. It’s his turn after sucking off Gojo (they settled this over rock-paper-scissors) and fingering you to warm you up first.
You whine of his member, Gojo’s tongue doing wonders on your delicate body. He licks on your clit just as you lap yours around Geto’s glans, and then he’ll suck your pearl right as you take in the tip with pursed cheeks. It’s such a mutual shared experience, with how Gojo’s hands wrap to your thighs to keep your chasm on his lips while you have Geto keen to your mouth and hands stroking him. 
“—Khhhh, Jesus Christ…Hohhh, right there, sweetie…” The raven-haired one coos as you kiss your way down to his balls to suck one as you continue to jerk him. “Heh, you doing good down there, Satoru?”
The snow-haired other removes his mouth from your folds, licking your essence that sticks to his lips like honey mixed with his saliva. “Hahaa, you have no idea. I could stay like this for hours,” his tongue licks your come to your clit tantalizingly slow, evoking you to almost choke on Geto’s girth. “Aww, look at you trying to move from me,” Gojo brings your hips back down to him for him to swirl around your labia, his grip on your thighs refusing to submit. “Don’t go anywhere, princess; I’m not finished until you cum on my face again.”
“Ohhh, shit, keep doing what you’re doing, Satoru,” Geto subtly bucks his hips, “I love the way they’re whining on my dick…”
With your puffy lips being busy in the front and your cunt being lapped and nibbled on from below, your senses are clouded by the two boys who seek nothing but your participation in experiencing pleasure. Your head gradually turns into mush with every rut to your throat and every lap around your clitoris. It’s to no surprise that your release seeps out of your body without preparation, crying on Geto’s length as your frame quivers in euphoric bliss. 
And if you think you couldn’t get swamped enough, think again. 
“—Nnngh, fuck, Y/n, you’re gripping on my dick like crazy…Hehe, is it because you can’t look me in the face? Damn, you’re such a cutie…”
Your face is nuzzled in the crook of Gojo’s neck as you’re straddling on top of him, your nude, sweaty bodies melted together to share heat. Your hips bounce up and down on his pelvis, where his rubber-covered length is scraping the walls of your vagina. His left curve grazes and jabs your sweet spots, and your body lies on top of Gojo, which brings more friction to your clitoris. 
“Hahhh, ahhnn—Ohhhh!” Your phrases have doubled down to that of whimpers of pleasure, thinking straight is impossible, and your mind is too deep in a haze to focus on anything outside of what’s happening. And it’s not like you can’t stop your hips from bouncing on his shaft — you’ve tried! But the moment your legs express so much as reluctance or fatigue, Gojo’s hands are right there on your ass to guide you back into the rhythm. So it’s expected when you climax on him once more, clamping onto him as you ride out another orgasmic wave. “Ahhaaa! Sa’toruuu, stooohhp—hic…! I’m ‘oo sens' tiveee!!” 
“You say that, but—hnnn! You’re rocking those hips of yours on your own, baby.” He chuckles at your slurred speech, placing kisses on your cheek as his hands massage your asscheeks. “Holy shit, you feel so unreal; wanna fuck you raw so bad with how tight you are.” 
“Don’t even think about it, Satoru,” you hear Geto’s voice from behind, the dent of the twin-size bed shifting with his added weight. “If I can’t go condom-less, you’re not getting any special treatment out of it either.”
“Psssh, yeah, yeah,” Gojo says with rolled azure eyes before he whispers to your ear. “Come on, angel, let’s get you prepped up.” The white-haired boy’s hands spread your butt, exposing his dick buried deep into your tight slit and your taint.  
Geto grins salaciously. “My, what a dirty sight for me, my love.” You chew your lips to his words, the heat in your ears causing them to ring. You then feel his fingers smothered in lube to meet your asshole, spiraling around it before inserting them one by one. Your holes instinctively contract, making Gojo hiss. “Relax, pretty girl,” he kisses your temple. “We’re gonna make you feel so good.”
You remind your figure to calm down, allowing Geto to play with your anus for it to accommodate the next foreign limb he’ll put inside. Gojo keeps kneading your butt, but he throws furtive thrusts up to your chasm to keep you on your toes. You gasp when Geto removes his digits suddenly, and now you bite your bottom lip at the contact of his cockhead touching your puckered entrance. “Stay calm for me, princess. Gonna go slow just for you…”
Breathing with your mouth is the only way you can function through his insertion; even after he properly lubed himself and the rubber, it never fails to amaze you how you’ve been able to take in his girthy dick times before. Every inch pushed inside you feels as if your breath is pulled away, feeling both your holes become occupied. And your head goes up at the snap of Geto’s pelvis smacking on your ass, mouth agape for drool to sneak down puffy lips. 
“Heh, there you are,” Gojo licks your spit before placing a kiss on your lips. “What a pretty face when you’re going dumb on our dicks, Y/n.”
You couldn’t even reply in modesty because Geto immediately goes pounding your ass with hunger. Your wails come out freely at the pacing of both boys propelling themselves into you. And it doesn’t help that your holes don’t stop contracting on their dicks as they push, the motion making you move your clit against Gojo and having your sore nerves active again. 
“Holy fuck,”Geto drills his cock into your taint, grinding his hips into you to make you whine aloud. He then bends to kiss your sweaty shoulder down to your spine. “You’re so tight, Y/n…like you’re gonna milk me dry.”
Words are exhilarated squeaks and shrills, your arms coming around Gojo’s neck and pressing your hot cheek on his. He snickers at how touchy you are, “Hey, baby,” he coaxes you through the onslaught of ruts that quicken in tempo. “God, you sound so fucking cute, angel…” 
“—Ahhahh…! Ohhh, guysss, pleaseee, slow d—Owwhhnn!!” You cry, eyes watering with the pokes and jabs on your velvety insides, the curve of Gojo scraping you in places you can’t reach, and Geto’s girth having your backside completely stretched for him. It’s all too much to focus on as your delicate bud is pressed on by your weight. “…Nhooo, God, I’m gonna—“
“Gonna cum, cutie?” You nod hurriedly, amusing Gojo for more chuckles. “Let’s cum together, yeah? Such a pretty girl…” And then, Gojo claims your lips for a steamy, passionate kiss, bringing a hand from your bottom to place behind your head to keep you on him. 
“—Hnngh!! Wait, sweetheart, don’t clamp onto me so sudden—Ohh, shit, shit, shiiit,” Black hair strands fall from Geto’s shoulders as he falters at your grip. “Gonna cum, too….Gahhh—“
Your crescendo is the first to appear, howling and mewling into Gojo’s lips while your trembling figure undergoes the shocks of the deep penetration on both ends. The fluttering sensations of your cunt and anus are what prompt the two men to spill their load into you simultaneously, groaning with pleasure from your body. Your head is undoubtedly dizzy, your brain spiraling with impulses as your frame jerks with every wave of your orgasm. 
After his climax is done, Geto slowly withdraws his cock from you. The condom filled with his essence. “Phew, that felt way too good.”
“For real, can’t get enough of this.” Gojo sighs while groping your asscheeks and kissing your forehead. “Ready for another round, baby? C’mon, let’s switch before Suguru gets all crybaby on us.” His sweet tone immediately flips to narrow his eyes at Geto for throwing his used, tied condom at Gojo's face for that comment. “Oh, you disgusting son of a bitch…”
“Shut up and switch, or else I’ll have you watch me pound Y/n for fifteen minutes.”
Being loved and obsessed by the two heartthrobs of the school is no easy work, which is evident when you can’t even get to nap by yourself after the sexual activities. With Gojo spooning Geto while he spoons you, there is no rest with these two; they might as well put collars around their necks and give you their leashes with how smitten they are to be around you.
Yet, at the same time, you don’t hate it — far from that. Because you know their feelings for you are genuine, you can see it in their sleeping faces as they’re probably thinking about you in your dreams as you observe. With a smile, you place kisses on their cheeks and silently leave the bed to use their shower. 
The warm water is just as welcoming and temperate as their love, keeping you safe and washing your anxiousness away. In your thoughts, you reflect on all the times you’ve grown because of them, and it goes to show that their involvement has done substantial help for you. And for that, you are forever grateful for them and will always reciprocate their feelings as you feel the same. 
“Hey, Y/n.”
Well, minus the immediate sense of apprehension that skyrockets once you hear Geto’s voice come behind you. You turn to see his naked self coming towards you to wrap his arms around your waist. “Suguru!? I–I thought you were sleep—“
“I was until you left my arms,” he says to your ear with his dulcet voice, his hands kneading the flesh of your wet hips. “Besides, saves us a lot of time if we share the shower, right?”
“Oh, Y/n~,” another voice enters the bathroom, and your dread plummets even further when Gojo opens the curtains with glee. “Don’t tell me you decided to shower without m—…Oh, you’re here, too.”
“Obviously,” Geto sucks his teeth at his roommate. “I live in this apartment and use this same shower, dumbass.”
Snowy eyebrows crease with irritation as Gojo enters the walk-in shower, sandwiching you between the two. “Well, don’t you think it’s rude for you to use the shower when our guest is using it first?”
“I could be asking you the same thing because who told you to come here?”
“Duh! I’m here to shower with my lover; are you stupid?”
“Are you? Don’t you see a boyfriend is trying to have some alone time with their partner?”
“Oh, eat horse shit.”
“Croak and die.”
You can only stand there and be mushed by the two tall boys arguing over you, unable to flee the scene as they both have their hands on you. Again, you don’t hate it at all. You love them just as much as they love and adore you. They may be the school favorites; however, you are the most precious thing they wish to engage with and want to keep to themselves.
…But would it kill them to give you some room once in a while!?
Jesus, how am I gonna survive with these two…
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
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noisilyscreechingsong · 7 months ago
Text
Seeing ghosts in Gotham
He’s walking alone. Despite how dark it is, he’s not particularly nervous, not like the couple of people hovering in an alley.
His shift at Batburger went a little long, not that he’s complaining, he needed the money.
Everything is fine. Splendid. Fantastic. A little quiet, enough to pretend it’s a nice stroll home like it was back in Amity. Of course that all kind of goes up in flames when a dark figure drops into a crouch right in front of him. About two arm lengths away is a guy who straightens to a little taller than Danny himself. From the flickering street light across the street he can spot red, crisscross yellow, and a dark cape.
Red Robin.
Danny shakes his head and turns around.
“Nope.”
A smaller body is already standing behind him, blocking his path. The little guy with a serious face folds his arms across his chest as if challenging Danny to try to get by him.
He’s had enough tussles with Danielle to know better than to test the kid.
Danny rubs at his eyes with a hand, purposefully keeping the other limp at his side. He turns back around.
“Okay. Fine. What? What do you want?”
“You sent in a folder of information to solve the Boothe case,” Red Robin states confidently like there wasn’t any doubt it was Danny who sent it in.
He frowns. It was sent in anonymously. As in they shouldn’t be able to know it was him. Then again they are detectives in their own right even if they dress weird.
“See? This is why no one helps out the police if they’re gonna get grilled for it later on,” he complains sourly.
“That case is connected to another string of crimes we’ve been investigating. I need to know where you got your information.”
Danny glares at him for a second, actually thinking about telling him, then he remembers how quickly these guys throw people into Arkham.
“Do you not get what anonymous means?”
“What is your source?” He asks, completely ignoring Danny’s concerns.
“What are gonna do? Dangle me over the side of a building to get me to talk like you do with the criminals you guys pick up? Go ahead. See where that gets you,” he shrugs indifferently.
“You’re a runaway.”
Danny’s eyes widen in surprise before narrowing into a warning as he turns to look at the pipsqueak that spoke.
“From your poorly made fake ID and the fact you don’t look close to eighteen, you must be a runaway minor. We could bring you in to the proper authorities if you prove to be… uncooperative.”
Danny sneers in annoyance.
“Seriously?” He turns back to Red Robin. Clearly the older of the two and the one leading this investigation. “This is what I get for trying to help? Blackmail?”
“Robin can be a bit… abrasive. I, on the other hand, can appreciate a different approach.”
Suddenly there’s a couple pieces of paper money in between his fingers. Danny couldn’t see how much it was from this far away, but it didn’t really change how he felt about the whole situation.
“Now bribery? Wow, you guys really got the whole good cop, bad cop thing down, don’t cha?”
“Then what do you want?”
“For you to stop wasting your time,” Danny answers with a snap.
Red Robin pauses.
“Our time,” he repeats calmly.
“Yea. Your time. This is a dead end and you should move on.”
“And why are you a dead end?” Presses Robin.
“Because,” Danny emphasizes with a look over his shoulder, “the guy you’re really looking for, my source as you put it, is dead, okay? So you can’t go ask him questions. I sent in everything that was relevant. Find another lead.”
Red Robin’s expression remains blank as he mentally calculates his next move. Danny hopes he takes his advice and let him go home.
“His name?”
Danny folds his arms over his chest, a pathetic attempt to protect himself. He chews on his lip a minute. To tell him or not to tell him. It’s not really ratting the guy out since he’s, you know, dead. Although there is a large chance Danny’s missing something and it’s all going to lead back to him somehow.
“I didn’t kill him.”
“I never said you did,” the vigilante replies calmly, almost nonchalant.
Danny shifts his weight with nerves. He really wasn’t getting out of this without giving them something, huh?
“Greg,” he grinds out like it’s painful.
Silence for a few moments, then-
“As in Gregory Boothe?”
The victim of this whole conversation? Yes.
Danny’s silence is answer enough and the diverted gaze just solidified their suspicions.
“Gregory Boothe’s body turned up a month ago. Presumably he’d been dead for several weeks before that.”
Red lets that damning information hang in the air like Danny didn’t already know.
“So when did he talk to you? Last week?”
Danny jerks at the off handed joke, actually taking a step back and hitching his shoulders up to his ears. He grimaces at his knee jerk response, but can’t take it back. A glance toward the vigilante shows a calculating stunned expression from what he can see ignoring the mask. He looks away again finding a discarded soda can very interesting.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Demands Robin behind him.
Danny tried to resist the urge to curl even more into himself, but knows he failed without even having to look.
“You’re a medium,” Red Robin states. It’s not even a question.
Danny flinches and shoots the guy a scared glare.
“I am not one of those scam artists,” he hisses firmly.
“No,” Red agrees, “you’re not. You didn’t ask for money or attention.”
Danny stares like it’s his first time seeing him. The lack of aggression or accusations was new and a little disarming. He was genuinely confused as to why the guy wasn’t immediately going to denial or throwing him in Arkham.
“Hell of a city to hide in when you can see ghosts,” Red Robin says in a light tone like he was teasing him. The small tug to his lips just proves it.
Danny’s shoulders practically sag at the playful demeanor. A hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously.
“Yea, well… no one was gonna look for me here.”
Which was only half the reason he chose Gotham, but it was still truthful.
“So… Greg?”
“Isn’t here right now.” Danny pauses and snorts at himself. “Please leave a message.”
The vigilante does have a sense of humor because he smirks in response to the joke.
“Is there another way to… make contact? Summoning maybe?”
Danny raises an eyebrow incredulously.
“Summoning is rude,” he says like it’s common sense.
Instead he turns to the nearest reliable ghost in the vicinity.
“Hey, Susan, can you go-“
The vigilantes can’t hear how she interrupts him because she was standing there the whole time and knows exactly what he was going to ask.
“Okay, thanks. Meet at mine.”
The ghost woman nods and flies off to go hunt down dear old Greg and Danny turns to Red Robin. He makes a casual move with his head to say ‘follow me’ and continues walking down the sidewalk past the guy and further into the old, decrepit buildings he’s been squatting in.
They already know he’s a runaway, being homeless shouldn’t come as a shock to them. Even with his two jobs, he can’t afford to rent an apartment. No wonder so many people are in poverty or in the slums.
He ducks into his rundown building, ignoring the rats scurrying away, and hops up the rickety stairs, avoiding the ones that were unstable. It was a nightmare figuring out which steps were faulty. Lots of injuries.
At the top he turns to see Red easily copying his movements up the stairs while Robin balances along the railing like a tight rope. When they reach the top at the same time Danny just stares at them for a moment before shaking his head in exasperation. Darn vigilantes. Why did Danny have to get caught up in this mess?
He turns, walking along the floor closest to the wall before getting to what he’s deemed his room.
It used to be an office from what he can tell. A desk pushed against the far wall and a ripped sofa he’s been using as a bed on the other wall. The floors were the most stable in this room which really won out.
Danny goes to the desk where all his papers are scattered over the surface. An organizational pattern only he understands as he shuffles through the pile he pulls from the cubby above the desk. It holds all the same information he sent into the police, just in its raw form with about twice the amount of useless information. Along with it is a few other ‘cases’ that sounds familiar that he just threw together into a pile. Maybe the genius detectives could decipher what he couldn’t.
“Here,” he says, holding out the stack. Red Robin doesn’t hesitate to take it off his hands.
There’s no chair for the desk anymore so he slides some papers out of the way to hop onto the desk to wait.
“No.”
The vigilantes look at him and he shakes his head and looks over to the side.
“No, Abby. I’m not wasting their time.”
Red Robin goes back to flipping through papers. Most of them were old business papers he had found in the office and just written on the back. Some were receipts or pamphlets or some other random scrap of paper he could get his hands on.
“Because yours was an accident. There’s nothing for them to solve.”
Robin watched him cautiously as if waiting for Danny to snap or suddenly turn violent. Instead he leans back on his hands in a vulnerable position which screamed ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone’.
“There is a lot more information here than what was submitted to the police,” Red Robin comments neutrally, purposefully ignoring Danny’s exasperated sigh and one-sided conversation.
Danny shrugs in defense, “Didn’t think all of it was relevant.”
The vigilante doesn’t respond.
Robin drifts closer as Danny gives a withering glare to the corner. He examines the mess of papers surrounding the teen in the low lighting.
“Are these all files of victims?”
Danny glances over them with a knowledgeable eye.
“Most.” He twists to point at the top left corner of the cubbies. “Those are accidents though… well, what sounds like accidents.”
“There should be more.”
Danny looks at the boy with a tilted head and raises brow.
“Not everyone sticks around,” he explains simply.
Then something draws his attention away across the room. Surprisingly his eyes don’t glaze over like someone with mental illness, instead they sharpen to see something they can’t. It resembled Constantine or Thomas.
“Greg, these guys wanna talk to you.”
What proceeds is a very awkward interaction with Danny as a middle man between victim and vigilante. Despite the need for a translator, Red Robin does in fact get a lead from the conversation.
“Thank you for your cooperation.”
Danny nods. “Sure, no problem. Just don’t rat me out to the police and I can help with any other case that pops up with a ghost attached.”
“You know we can help with your living situation,” Red Robin offers with a glance around the room.
“What, and put me in foster care? No thanks, I’ll pass.”
“There are other options,” Robin chimes in with nonchalance that implies he doesn’t actually care.
“You don’t pass for eighteen, but if you let me make you a new ID we could say you’re emancipated.”
Danny frowns.
“I’d have to be sixteen to be eligible for emancipation.”
“You could be sixteen.”
No, he really couldn’t. Maybe if you squint your eyes and tilt your head, but Danny is fourteen with all the baby fat and innocent face that comes with it. His license now is a clear fake to anyone who sees it, but in this city no one’s gonna question it to his face. They just raise a brow, look at him, then shrug it off and roll with the lie.
“What do you want?” He demands. All this good will and wanting to help him can’t be free.
“We want to help,” Red says too easily.
Danny stares for a second, eyes narrowed as he tries to block out the multiple voices around him.
Insurance. He wants Danny to owe him so he can keep coming back for more information.
“I just told you I would help. Why are you still trying to get leverage?” He demands with irritation.
“We want to help-“
“You want me in your back pocket.”
Red Robin doesn’t give that a response, his lips pressing together to make a hard line.
Instead of pushing, he surprisingly takes a step back and heads towards the door, papers still in hand. Danny doesn’t argue.
Robin ducks out first, blending into the shadows without even a glance over his shoulder. Red Robin pauses in the doorway.
“Don’t try to skip town,” he states like an order. Like if Danny did in fact try, he would be found and brought back.
It didn’t even cross Danny’s mind.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” he says tiredly, too fed up with the day to defend himself.
Red Robin watches him for a moment before nodding and disappearing out the room.
Danny slumps with a groan, finally sliding off the desk to shuffle to the couch, body flopping face first into the worn cushions.
It’s silent to everyone else but Danny.
“I know.”
“I know, Jack, but I don’t trust them. Even if he is your son.”
Danny never noticed the bug planted by Robin on the underside of the desk.
5K notes · View notes
rafey-baby · 19 days ago
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how did older!rafe and sensitive!reader meet?
c/w: fluff, their meet cute & first time, age gap (not specified), smut: p-in-v, use of dad, 18+ mdni!
wc: 1.5k 
posted this for @hittmeandtellmeyouremine and her only <3 (couldn’t help but edit this anyway cause it was all over the place tbh)
more of them on my masterlist btw!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
The Island Club is buzzing. 
Usually, she’s not too fond of spending her Friday night surrounded by preppy, intoxicated Kooks (a name she’s not too proud to carry herself) but it’s her friend’s birthday and she couldn’t exactly say no when everyone in the group chat kept gushing over how fun it was going to be.  
Nonetheless, she finds herself giggling whilst some drunken guy at the bar begins chatting about this little Dalmatian puppy he recently adopted with his boyfriend. He’s even going as far as showing them pictures of the all too adorable black and white furball on his phone screen, when her lovely bladder decides to remind her of the alcohol she’s consumed before she’s excusing herself to the restroom—weaving through sweaty bodies with mumbled apologies and wobbly legs.  
Then, completely out of the blue, icy liquid is soaking through her top and halting her movements. 
“Shit, sorry,” the guy who stumbled into her drawls out and she blinks up—meeting broad shoulders and shard features that belong to an older man easily twice her age and entirely too handsome to be considered fair.  
“Oh, it’s okay,” she squeaks out, delayed, star-struck, attempting to continue on with her journey before she embarrasses herself even further. However, she doesn’t get the chance to do anything before a warm palm on her upper arm tugs her back.  
“Nah, s’fully my fault, let me—uh, do they have any...” he looks around, searching for something before his expression brightens. “Right, yeah, the bathroom,” he slurs, seemingly proud of himself, and she figures he must’ve had one too many glasses of the whiskey currently seeping through the lacy material of her bra.  
She opens her mouth to tell him it’s fine but he’s already dragging her towards the back with a hold on her wrist before he’s setting her on top of the dirty bathroom counter where a few girls are fixing each other’s makeup. Upon his arrival, one of them rolls her eyes—the door slamming shut behind them soon after. But he doesn’t even seem to notice, already patting at her chest with some paper towels, as if it’s the most casual thing in the world.  
“Um, thanks,” she mumbles, already teetering on the edge of tipsy and absolutely wasted herself, which is why she doesn’t question his strange behavior too much; merely sits there and lets him concentrate on the soggy spot on her shirt.  
“Look, you can’t even see it, s’a good thing you wearin’ black, huh?” he grins before throwing the damp pieces of paper into the trash while she grabs some more tissues to dab underneath the fabric, the skin of her chest sticky and gross.  
“We haven’t, uh, we haven’t met before, right? M’Rafe,” his voice is smooth syrup when he suddenly holds out his palm for her to take. And for a moment, she merely stares at it with rounded eyes before realizing how dumb she must seem.  
“Hi, sorry, no, we haven’t,” she quickly answers before taking his much bigger hand into her own, holding onto it for far too long to be considered appropriate as she stumbles over her own name—something amused blooming on his face in response.  
“S’nice to meet you,” he smiles, gaze holding her hostage while she struggles to look away.  
“Thank you,” her cheeks heat up when her apparently empty brain has the chance to process her mistake. “I mean...you too?” a flustered giggle bubbles out of her throat, wishing she could evaporate into thin air right about now.  
However, he doesn’t seem to mind her making a complete fool out of herself because he merely chuckles, seemingly entertained as his eyes flit over her features in curiosity.  
“You, uh, you want another drink?” he asks. “...as an apology for ruinin’ your top ‘n shit,” he adds when she seems hesitant.  
“Oh, um…yeah, that’d be—uh, great. But m’actually here for my friend’s birthday so...I can’t,” she manages out, confused when something akin to disappointment in cerulean blue greets her. 
“Shame.”  
- - - - - - - - -  
For the following weeks, Rafe sticks to the forefront of her mind like honey until one night, she bumps into someone after leaving the restaurant her date never showed up to—far too occupied deciding that she’d never listen to her friend again to realize who it is. Because why would she make her believe that some stupid guy they met at the library of all places, would be perfect for her? 
“Y/N? What’re you doin’ here all by yourself?” Rafe’s familiar rumble makes her annoyed thoughts vanish, causing her to look up in surprise. 
“Oh, hi...this is, um, kinda embarrassing,” she mumbles while his gaze flits over her dress and the heels that were already making her feet hurt. And she has no choice but to explain what had happened, for some reason growing teary-eyed in the process because he listens so patiently, a concerned crease between his brows making her feel like he actually cares. 
“Listen, that guy was a fuckin’ idiot if he stood you up, alright?” he scoffs, sounding exasperated and making her smile despite the few droplets already soaking her cheeks. And he seems so understanding, so considerate when he wipes away her tears and gives her a warm hug before offering to take her out for dinner instead. 
“I mean, it’d be a waste of such a pretty dress, yeah?” he makes it sound like the most logical thing and she can’t help but agree, thinking he’s merely being polite because she’s just humiliated herself in front of someone she barely knows.  
And she thinks he’s just wonderful when he takes her to the most expensive restaurant on the island—cracking stupid jokes that make her giggle while she wonders why she hadn’t met this dream of a man sooner.  
However, when their bellies are warm and satiated, she begins to feel entirely too guilty about him spending so much money on her, already insisting on splitting the bill. But when she’s going through her purse for her wallet, he merely lets out a humored chuckle, muttering out how she’s apparently so cute for even thinking he’d let her do that.  
And somehow, one thing leads to another, and the night ends with her splayed out on his bed—a whimpering mess of tears and smudged makeup while his big hands roam all over her skin.  
“You let me between these thighs so fuckin’ easy, huh? I mean m’old enough to be your dad, you know that, right?” he mocks while he stuffs her full. 
“Don’t say that,” she whines, embarrassed because she can’t help but squeeze around him when the word leaves his mouth.  
“Why? Cause that shit turns you on?” he chuckles, tone teetering on the edge of patronizing and genuinely curious while his stubble tickles the skin of her neck he’s smearing sloppy kisses all over.  
“…no,” she tries to hide her face behind her hands when he looks up.  
“No? Why you squeezin’ me like that then, hm?” he raises his brows, grabbing her jaw to force her to lock eyes with him when he suddenly pushes in deeper. 
And she’s so taken aback that he somehow managed to dig out this part of her, something she keeps locked away in the basement of her mind because not everyone gets it—not everyone’s able to pick up on the telltale signs of her addled little brain craving for something more than just a conventional boyfriend. 
She’s can’t answer the man above her though, not when he’s emptied her cerebrum in the span of a few moments and she feels so overwhelmed all of a sudden, unable to form anything audible when he’s molding her insides to his liking and looking at her like that.  
“S’okay baby, don’t need to be embarrassed, dad will take such good care of you, alright?” he coos, a grin tugging at his mouth when she gushes around him in response.  
The only thing she can focus on are his heady breaths brushing over her face while he paws at her hips—rutting into her over and over and over again until she’s soaking his cock and her cheeks are decorated in mascara stains and teardrops.  
“There you go, jus’ let it all out, yeah? Let me take care of you,” he croons, talking her through it before his thrusts grow lazy and he’s glazing her gummy walls in white; filling her up to the brim with the sticky mess until it begins to dribble down from where they’re still connected.  
And after he’s cleaned her up and given her his shirt to sleep in, he holds her close to his chest, strong and comforting arms wrapped around her middle making her feel safe, protected. It makes her eyes well up with soggy droplets all over again because everything wrong suddenly feels so right. As if a piece she’s been missing all her life has finally been placed in the shallow hole that she’s always carried around without even realizing—in the shape of a father.  
Suddenly, her always so heavy thoughts don’t weigh her down all that much anymore—not when her mind is blossoming in an entirely novel way with all things Rafe.  
And as his sleepy breaths and steady heartbeat pacify her more than anything ever has, she thinks she wants to feel like this forevermore. 
2K notes · View notes
thecreelhouse · 2 months ago
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stuck
Paring: Steve Harrington x Fem!reader
Summary: Yes, it’s exactly what you think it is. MDNI
WC: 4.6k+
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Includes: no plot all filth, unrealistic “stuck” porn trope, friends to horny idiots, dirty talk, pet names/name calling, unprotected PiV sex, oral (f receiving), briefest mention of monsterfucking, brief anal play, a smidge of humiliation kink with a healthy side of a praise kink, d/s dynamic, etc.
A/N: Literally got this idea from a certain filthy piece of DBD fanart that I can’t find, but if you know the one I’m talking about, please lmk so I can properly credit for the inspo!! Is this ridiculous? Yes. Was this originally for Halloween? Also yes. We hate rules here (and deadlines). Hope y’all enjoy it <3 (dividers from @/saradika-graphics)
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Everyone told Steve he was insane to venture back into the Upside Down, but he couldn’t leave you there alone. 
He felt sick for even leaving you behind at all. Quite honestly, no one felt good about evacuating without you, but it was smarter to go home, gear up, grab another working walkie, before wandering back into hell to find you.
See, among the chaos of trying to help Eddie, trying to keep Max alive, he worried about you and your unusual absence from the group, but you were strong enough to handle nearly anything— that much, he was confident on. You had fought side by side with him over the years, protecting everyone in the group, and one another; through demodogs, a shit summer job gone awry, and anything in between, you could hold your own with a bravery he wished he didn’t need to front at times.
That didn’t quell his anxiety one bit, though. When and where you had disappeared to, he wasn’t sure.
It wasn’t until your voice broke through over the airwaves, when Steve, Eddie, Nancy, and Robin were on the lake, that he felt relief you were at least alive. Your voice was tinny through the static.
“Guys?”
The only reason a signal existed at all was because the group floated just above the gate at the bottom of the lake— they just didn’t know it yet.
Steve had just thrown his sweater off, ready to dive in, when the sound of your voice made his eyes widen. 
“Holy shit, give me the—“ He rocked the tiny boat a little too much for anyone’s comfort as he fell to his knees, grabbing the walkie from the floor. “Where the fuck are you?!”
“Hi to you too, Harrington.”
Robin yanked the device from Steve’s grip, “Are you okay? What’s going on?”
“Long fuckin’ story, but—“ Your voice cut out, static filling the dead air for a few seconds. “And that’s—“ Cut off again. “Upside Down, but I- I don’t know where I am, exactly. Why didn’t any of y’all tell me how bad this place sucks?”
Steve laughed to himself, unaware his eyes became glassy, hearing the familiar attitude and sailor’s mouth you carried; the other three noticed just how relieved and emotional he was right away. He grabbed the walkie back from Robin with shaky hands.
“We’re gonna come find you, we think we found a gate,” He rushed out. “Are you safe at least?”
“For now, but these—“ Signal cutting out, Steve hit the walkie a few times, as if that’d fix the disconnect between literal dimensions. “— Th- they’re everywhere. I don’t know where to hi— oh, shit—“ Your end fell dead again, leaving the four on edge, waiting for you to speak. White noise droned on for less than a minute; you weren’t coming back. 
Wasting not a second longer, Steve dove into the dark, chilled waters of the lake. He found the gate they suspected of, and broke the surface to alert his friends. As he relayed the information, rushed and panicked, wanting to find you as soon as possible, something tugged on his leg. Only startling the group at first, Steve was caught off guard, pulled under, back down to the bottom. He kicked, struggled, lungs burning as he fought off the urge to gasp for a breath he couldn’t dare to take.
It was all a blur, being dragged through the gate and tossed around like a rag doll; the bats diving towards him, finding an oar to defend himself with among the Upside Down’s mirrored decay of the lake, only to be bombarded by the gnarly creatures. They tore at his flesh as he was being strangled to death; brain growing fuzzy as he put up a good fight, he began to accept this fate. He wasn’t sure when his friends came through the gate, but one by one they retaliated against the bats, leaving just the one still strangling Steve.
“Get fucked!”
Unexpectedly, you appeared, slamming an ax— one you always left in your trunk, just in case— down onto one of its wings, chopping through completely, yet it still tried to flee as Steve bit down on its tail. Stunned, you all watched as Steve swung it around, slamming it down into the ground before violently ripping its spine out, fueled by pure rage.
Blood dripped from his mouth while he glanced up at you, rage and fear fading as relief flooded every inch of his heart. Despite your ragged appearance— covered in grime, soot, and blood— he was just happy to see you alive; a sight for sore eyes.
“I fuckin’ hate those things.” You wanted to run and hug him, but restrained yourself at the sight of his wounds. Taking in the sight of all four friends, you sighed, “Y’all okay?”
Another screech in the sky tore everyone’s attention away, “C’mon!” Where everyone ran off to the rocks, you made the mistake of running off in the opposite direction. The group of bats split off, heading towards both you and the others; when you looked over your shoulder, you watched Steve do the same, panic fueling you both to run for your lives.
You sprinted off towards the woods, hoping you’d find each other again soon, and alive.
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Steve climbed back through the gate in Eddie’s trailer, and had searched for what felt like hours; he was losing hope of finding you by the minute. He knows you; you wouldn’t give up without a fight. You had to be alive, but dread was still building within him.
At least he caught a signal over the walkies.
“What do you mean you’re stuck?”
Your voice warbles through the speaker of Steve’s walkie, barely coherent through the sharp static. 
“Okay, okay, where are you?”
“The— g—“ Feedback rips through your words, shrill and sharp. “I’m tr—“
“You’re cutting out—“
“Gate! I’m—“ A drone of white noise floods the speaker, and you’re gone.
“Shit. Fuck. God-fucking-dammit!” He hits the device with his free hand, slams the buttons and messes with the knobs and antenna— if only he actually paid attention when Dustin tried showing him how to work this fucking thing.
He did hear you say ‘gate’ at least, but which one? You clearly weren’t at the one he just entered, and the one at the lake had closed up by now. 
This would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.
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Steve’s exhausted, searching high and low for you, at every possible spot that crosses his mind. It had to have been another hour since he last heard from you, and he’s running out of ideas of where you could be.
“Checked around town,” He begins murmuring to himself, listing and eliminating options out loud. “No luck there… but— shit, didn’t check the library…” Could a gate even open in there? Anywhere was possible, right? And if that was the case, he’d have to tear through every room of every building, circle each structure, check any cars, houses, sheds, backyards, parks, the woods—
Christ, at this rate, he’ll never find you—
“Oof!” Steve loses his footing, tumbling over something in the stretch of woods he was combing through. Colliding with the ground, he groans on impact.
“What the fuck?”
Steve rolls over quickly, sitting up to find he had tripped over you.
“Oh, thank fuck.” He scrambles to his feet, brushing debris off his body as he finally glances your way.
When you said you were stuck, Steve didn’t picture the sight before him now; you, halfway through a gate found in a tree trunk, unable to move because it began to close up around your waist. Your upper half is on the other side, but your bottom half is still stuck in the Upside Down.
“Oh…. You’re… wow, okay.” He snickers, “Yeah. You’re stuck, alright.”
Steve’s muffled cackling echoes through the slimy gate. You huff and roll your eyes; not like he can see.
“Just help me out of here, would ya’?!”
“Okay, okay… Jesus.” He drops to his knees, still towering over you— well, your back half, at least. “Does it hurt?”
“No, it’s just fucking annoying. Maybe try, I dunno, pulling at the edges of it, or something?”
“I don’t think that’s how these things work—“
“Steve!”
“Okay, right, yeah, sorry.” He bites his bottom lip, stifling more laughter. It’s certainly an… awkward position, leaning over you from behind, but it’s the only way he can pull at the edges with both hands at once. He gives the gate’s edge a tug, but it’s stone solid. He tries again, this time with a grunt that has your mind wandering elsewhere. “Yeah, this is, uh… that’s not gonna work.”
“Oh my god, I’m stuck here forever,” You groan, kicking your feet. “I’m gonna die here.”
“Calm down, drama queen. Gimme a second, I’ll try again.” Steve keeps himself balanced on one knee, while the other leg plants a steady foot into the ground. Again, he attempts to pry open the gate, hoping to free you; his foot slips, causing him to rub against your backside.
Okay, ‘rub’ is a generous term— more like roughly falling against your ass, then whining over the pressure on his bulge.
“Steve, what the fuck?” You crane your neck, only able to see where the tree bark opens up into the gate, snug around your waist. “Did you just—“
“I didn’t mean to, I swear! M- my foot slipped!”
“Oh, bullshit.”
“Look, it’s not exactly the easiest to move around you without touching you right now,” He argues. “You really think I’m trying to make a move on you in a situation like this?!”
“Well, I can’t see shit, Harrington. I don’t know what the hell’s going on back there.”
Ignoring you, Steve murmurs, more to himself but loud enough for you to still hear, “The hell are you wearing these tiny shorts for, anyway?” He tugs at the hem around your thigh, elastic snapping back against your skin. You bite back whatever pathetic noise threatens to escape your lips.
“It was warm out earlier!”
“It’s March—“
“And unreasonably warm for March, y- you jerk.”
“That why you’re shivering?”
“Considering the sun set, uh, yeah?”
You grumble, annoyed how wet this easily has made you. You need out, and Steve needs out, too, and the two of you need to just forget about all of this.
“Okay, just—“ You can’t think straight, mind clouded with dirty thoughts— how embarrassing. “Push me through.”
“You… want me to push you… how?”
“With your hands, St—“
“I know with my h— I meant, like, where?”
You can’t see the way he licks his lips, staring at your ass, but you sure can hear the strangled moan he miserably tries to hide in his throat. 
“Wherever works— I don’t know, I’ve never been stuck between dimensions before!”
He shudders a breath before calling through the gate, “I’m gonna— if I touch anything I shouldn’t, I swear to god I’m not trying to—“
“Okay, yeah, I get it, Steve— just push me out of here!”
“Christ, you’re fucking bossy…”
His hands grip the plush of your hips, first, hoping he can grip hard enough and push this way— it’s useless; his hands lose grip, sliding up your body. His knuckles run into the tree, and he’s grateful for that barrier; who knows how far his hands could’ve slipped. He yelps and recoils away. “Sorry!”
“Dude, I don’t care, just do whatever works.” You sound exhausted, and who wouldn’t be in a situation like this? You had to have been here at least an hour, and even if it doesn’t hurt, it can’t be very comfortable. 
Steve shakes his nerves off, hands reaching for the back of your thighs; his fingers splay apart, pushing as hard as he can, and you finally begin to budge. It’s not much, but it’s a start.
Until you cry out for him to stop. “Shit, that fuckin’ hurts— It’s— ow, fuck! My hips—”
He immediately backs off, hands releasing pressure, but still resting gently on your thighs. It’s automatic, the way his thumbs rub slow circles into your exposed skin to try comforting you; the shorts you’re wearing are not helping either of you. It was warm out earlier, like you said, but did you have to wear these now?
Goosebumps prickle up under his fingers, and it’s hard to miss the way you clench your thighs together. 
“You, uh…” Steve gulps, fingers gently kneading at the meat of your thighs. “You okay over there?”
“Uh-huh,” Your answer isn’t very convincing, with a trembling voice. “Everything okay back there? W- with you, I mean.”
“Sure, yeah, it’s… I’m good.” He feels like such a pervert, fantasizing about taking you right here, like this. It’s wrong when you’re trapped like this. “Honey, I- I don’t know what else to do.”
The pet name twists at a coil deep within you, building up a pressure of some kind. 
“This is gonna sound fucked up, but just— push my ass— Steve, that better not be you laughing!”
He can’t hold back his immature giggling, but he’d rather this than moan.
“You sure? I don’t want you to get mad or anything.” He tries to settle down, focus on getting you unstuck. “Tell me to stop if it hurts again, alright?”
You imagine hearing those words of sweet consent in a different circumstance, biting back a whimper. “Ye- yeah, I will.”
Steve slides his hands up to the curve of your ass, unable to restrain himself before digging his fingers into your soft, plushy body. “Gonna count down, sweetheart, okay?”
This time a whimper does beat you to the punch before you can actually reply. He squeezes a little harder.
“Three… two… one—“ Steve shoves his hands against you, pushing as hard as he can. Again, your hips shove up against the tree trunk, and you cry out from the pinch. He pulls you back an inch, wincing with guilt. “M’sorry, I—“
“Again,” You boldly call back to him.
“… You sure?”
“Just do it, please,” His hands are so warm, touch so soft; you wish the fabric of your shorts would just disappear. There’s an extra whine to your voice, “Don’t hold back, I can take it.”
“Oh, fuck…” He mumbles, sucking in a sharp breath. “Go— I’m gonna try again, ready?” He hears a faint noise of consent, shoving himself into you; this time, his hips rut into you, too. You still can’t get through the gate, but you’re not sure that’s either of your concern at this moment. His bulge, rock-hard now, brushes up against your ass, and you both moan out. This is bad.
The way you push back against him isn’t helping much, either.
Both of you still, falling silent while trying to steady your breaths. Are you really about to do this here? Now?
Steve makes the decision for you both, muttering, “I can’t fuckin’ take it anymore.” He’s purposefully grinding against you, head lolling back with a groan as you push into him in return. From either end, both of you are shuddering out sinful noises. “Always wanted to kiss you first, but—“
“As soon as you rescue me, y’can kiss me all ya’ want.”
“Shit, princess, never took you for the damsel in distress type.” He tugs your shorts down, choking on air when he discovers you’re completely nude underneath. “Jesus, did you think at all about your outfit today?”
“Uh, considering I don’t have a bra on… no.”
“You don’t have a—“ Steve comically pouts that part of you is through the other side of the gate; he’s grateful you can’t see the pathetic expression. “What, did you just roll outta bed and stroll down here?”
“Steve, the longer we talk about the logistics of my outfit, the dryer I’m becoming.”
“Good thing I can help with that.”
“Okay, that was goofy to s— oh…” His thumbs spread your folds apart; despite your failed quip, you’re soaked as sin. 
“So fuckin’ pretty…” He leans down, kissing the swell of your ass, trailing his lips down your backside until he’s level with your heat. There’s no warning, just his tongue gliding along your folds, lapping up your arousal. A feral sounding groan vibrates through your core as he loses himself tasting you. It’s not rushed— not on purpose, at least— but any restraint is long gone now.
“Oh m’god,” You shudder while his tongue swirls around your clit, sucking it softly. His arms wrap around your thighs from behind, hooking you in place. You twitch back, like you’re desperate to grind on his face, but worried to freak him out.
Steve’s far from freaked out; in fact, he’s delving his tongue deeper, nearly incoherent when he mirrors your earlier words, “Don’t hold back. I can take it.”
That’s all the permission you need, rolling your body back as far as the gate allows, trembling as he sloppily makes out with your cunt. If only you could see the glistening mess on his pretty features. “Steve…”
He angles his nose against your clit just right, making you squeal into the empty forest around you. His tongue laps away, eventually tapering to fuck into you with it.
“Fuck, more, ple- please,” You pant, grateful Steve’s holding you upright, or you’d go limp against the tree. “Please— god!”
He slides a finger into you, curling it just right as he kisses and sucks back to your clit. He’s rougher this time when he suckles on the sensitive bud, rolling your eyes back and tensing your body up. You chant his name in whimpers, like a desperate prayer, only urging him to finger fuck you harder.
“Jesus, sweetheart, you’re gripping me so hard.” He groans into you, adding another finger. “Taste so good, I could be here all night—“
An orgasm startles you, going 0 to 100 without warning; lewd noises floating back through the gate toward Steve only challenge him to keep going.
“S- Steve, ha- hang on—“
“You want me to stop?” He slows his pace, but you ram yourself back into his hand and lips.
“No! Please, god, no—“
“Then what is it?” His tongue flits out, teasing around your sensitive nub.
“M- move your fingers up, back where you had it— ohhhmyfuckinggod—“
“C’mon, come for me, y’can do it again,” he coaxes, spitting onto your folds while relentlessly ruining you with his thick, long fingers. Your legs tremble wildly. “I can tell you’re close, angel. Make a mess, come for me again—“
This time, you cry out, praying whatever woods you found yourself in was deep enough, away from the public. Your hips twitch and convulse, while you flutter around his digits, soaking his face while he continues to delve deeper, as if that’s even possible.
The pumping pace of his fingers never relents, despite how overstimulated you feel already.
“St- Steve…”
“Got one more in ya’?” You feel his hot breath fanning over your folds again. It’s not long before he’s flicking his tongue back out, teasing your clit while adding another finger. “Christ… yeah… yeah, angel, that’s it…” He laps at the nectar dribbling from your centre, grunting as his free hand pulls you by your thigh, guiding you to bounce against his face. The fingers buried in you curl just right, earning a broken, breathy noise from the other side; he hits the right spot, and under a minute in, you’re gushing against his pretty face.
You can hear how drenched he is when he speaks, licking his lips between his words, “That was… oh, fuck, that… that was so… can we do that every day?”
Winded, you manage to laugh weakly, “If you can figure out how to get me un-stuck, I’ll let you do that as much as you fuckin’ want.”
You’d kill to see his face right now, dripping with your release, but until then you’ll just need to use your imagination.
“…. Can we—“
“Please.”
The head of his cock slides along your folds, teasing as it runs over your sensitive clit. You jolt back, and he grips you by the hip, holding you in place with one hand.
“Be patient for me, angel. I don’t wanna hurt you,” he slides in, taking his time, paying attention to your gasps. “You okay?”
“Uh-huh, ju- just go slow.”
Like earlier, when Steve tried pushing you through the gate, he soothes you with his touch, thumbs rubbing soft circles against your skin. He sinks a bit further, feeling you clench around him with anticipation. “Angel, gotta relax to let me in…”
“I- I know, m’trying, you’re just— you’re so… so…”
“Shhh, it’s okay, I have you. You’re okay…” He slides deeper, hips almost flush against your backside. “Just relax… that’s it, that’s my girl.”
The praise elicits a pornographic moan out of you, only triggering his cock to twitch against your walls.
“God, wish I could see your face right now,” his mumbling fades into a gravelly groan, sinking deep into you. 
“Y’can if you fuck me when we’re outta here,” you strain out, taking him to the hilt. His cock twitches again, making you both shudder.
“I dunno, what if we can’t get you out, sweetheart?” The tides turn with his tone. He pulls out slowly, teasing your clit with the head of his cock. You twitch and clench around nothing, making him smirk. “What if you’re stuck here forever?” Slamming back into you, your walls clamp down on him, tighter than before. “Oh, what, you like that idea?”
“Steve…”
“You wanna be left here? Where anyone can walk by, use you however they want?” He draws back, snapping his hips back into your ass, relishing in the way you cry out. “Anyone can find you in the woods over there, use that pretty mouth of yours…” Gripping your hips, he pulls back slowly, thrusting in with everything he’s got. It’s becoming a torturous pattern, but he can tell you’re enjoying it with the way you’re soaking his cock. 
“Oh my— fuck…” You gasp from the other side, throwing yourself back into him as far as the gate allows you. He grunts as you meet his thrusts.
“You’d be up for grabs over here too, y’know…” Hands trailing back to your ass, he spreads your cheeks, spitting lewdly on your pretty, puckered hole. “But maybe you’re not that much of a freak—“ You don’t hold back the sinful sound building in your throat over his unfinished concept. “Oh. Oh. You’d like gettin’ fucked by some monsters too, huh? That’s so fuckin’ gross, babe.”
“That ain’t even the half of it,” you manage to reveal through panting and whimpering.
His mind races over the possibilities, slamming into you a little faster.
Steve circles the tight entrance with the pad of his thumb, throbbing deep inside you as he tests the waters, sinking in just a bit. You squirm and whine, relaxing as he continues on, eventually making it past his knuckle— which, wouldn’t be too much, but with the size of his hands, you feel so full off that alone.
“You’re so fuckin’ tight, I don’t think I’ll l- last long,” he murmurs while he pistons his hips into you, growing sloppier by the minute. 
“S’okay… m’not…” You can’t grasp onto the words you need, not when he’s fucking you absolutely brainless between dimensions. “God, Steve, you’re so deep.”
His thumb slips out of you, leaving you emptier than before, making desperate, pathetic mewls and cries. Ignoring you, his hand slides underneath, pressing down onto the peak of your mound. “Where do you feel me? Here?”
“N- no, deeper…”
Steve splays his hand wide, fingers blanketing over your skin; he inches his touch up, just where your belly and pelvis begin to meet. The further he stretches his touch, the more he leans over you, kissing along any bare skin on your back he can reach.
“Here?”
You shake your head, but he can’t see. Your lapse in verbal response earns a smack on your ass, causing you to cry out into the expanse of the woods. 
“Where, babe? Tell me.”
“Up,” whimpering, you push back into him. Hand gliding up to your belly button, he stops.
“Here?”
Eyes rolling back, you let out a broken sob, “Yes!”
Steve pushes down on your belly, just enough for the pressure to meet his thrusts.
“You’re takin’ me like a slut… sound like one, too.” He grunts while bucking wildly into you. His hand disappears, only to join the other in grabbing you by the thighs, nearly lifting your lower half off the ground against him.
The sound is absolutely what you’d expect from two, hopelessly horny idiots, fucking in a circumstance like this one right here. Skin on skin slapping roughly, echoing out into the woods of the Upside Down, in time with his near-feral grunts and throaty groans. On your side, in your world, you can only imagine how close to an injured animal you might sound like, or someone in actual distress, unable to cover your mouth as you hold yourself up while he fucks into you relentlessly.
“M’pretty close, angel,” Steve pants through the gate, hips stuttering while he still gives his all, thrusting mercilessly into you. “Where—  where can I—“
“‘Side…” You groan out, lost in a lust-driven delirium.
Attitude softening, he manages to ask, “In— you mean inside?”
“Uh-huh, wanna be full,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear. “Make me yours—“
“Oh, fuck,” Steve’s hips freeze over your words, finally reaching his high. One final cry tears out of you as your fourth and final orgasm trembles through your body, rolling into his. The delicious squeeze and fluttering around him helps milk his release, doing just as you asked, filling you up with his spend. 
Involuntarily, his entire lower half twitches violently into you, and finally, finally, the gate gives, allowing him to tumble through to the other side, shoving you out first. He lands on top of you, rolling over onto the forest floor while you both groan. The woods are quiet, aside from occasional crickets and your loud, ragged breaths, weaving through the branches above.
Though the two of you are ready to fully collapse, the squelching sound of the gate constricting catches your attention; the damn thing closes completely.
Steve chuckles weakly, while you push past any shame that might still linger, shyly smiling over at him.
“Hey…” You attempt to greet him, now that you’re face to face— which, speaking of, his features are still glistening from sweat and your multiple releases. 
“Hi,” he breathes, eyes trailing over your figure, landing and pausing on your exposed core, dripping a lewd mixture of fluids. “Fuck…” He leans forward, but stops himself, mumbling, “If we weren’t in the woods, I’d, uh, help clean you up, but…”
Your eyes widen, taking in his words; neither of you are in a state to fuck around any further, but you make a mental note of the suggestion for the future. “I’m— I’ll remember that.”
Surging towards him with an ounce of renewed energy, you capture his lips in a long-awaited kiss. He makes the cutest noise of surprise, melding against you. Pausing, he murmurs against your lips, “Sorry we couldn’t do that first.” It’s a wild shift in his demeanor post-sex, from a dominant, feral wreck, to this soft, precious person before you.
“We can make up for it though.”
“After a super long fuckin’ nap.” Then he cringes, “And the— y’know, the whole—“ He waves his hand around, rolling his eyes, “the Vecna thing.”
“Right. Yeah. Priorities.” You’re looking forward to all of this coming to an end. All you want is to curl up in bed with Steve, and sleep a whole day away, but that’ll have to wait. 
As clarity brings you back down to earth, you realize you’re still naked from the waist down… which means— 
“Um… Steve?”
“Yeah, angel?”
“… Where’s my shorts?”
2K notes · View notes
kimstills · 7 months ago
Text
crazy
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pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader
summary: after one heated and spontaneous night together, aaron can’t seem to get his pretty subordinate (or her pussy) out of his head.
content warnings: smut, 18+, minors do not interact!, pussy!whipped hotch, age gaps, dirty talk, rough unprotected office sex, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving, mentions of m receiving in the past), choking, hair pulling, ass slapping, groping, some angst if u squint, love confessions and some asshole behavior, hotch is a munch and masturbates in his office.
word count: 6.5k (yea…)
a/n: this may seem a lil out of character for hotch? we all know he’s a professional thru and thru but the point is this is that he’s pussy whipped! also lots of flashbacks in italics whoopsies <3
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Aaron was sure he was going crazy.
Or maybe he already was, and he was just starting to feel the effects of his craziness.
Aaron Hotchner, usually poised in a way that unwillingly intimidated others and made them back away from him, was unraveling in a way he had never done so before.
Having a one-night stand with his subordinate, the same subordinate he had been harboring painfully arising feelings for literal years, often led to such a reaction.
He could still recount every single detail from that night, from the moment the tension between you both began building itself up to the moment it actually snapped. It was as if he had everything engraved in his mind; the views he never thought he'd get to see to the things he never thought he would get to feel etched into his brain.
It had all been a blur that night, and a part of Aaron still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you reciprocated his attraction towards you, letting him, not only touch you but also fuck you.
You two had stayed up late in your shared hotel room only to talk, really. After you and the rest of the team had wrapped up a somewhat good case, you only wanted to rant to one another. Aaron knew that you weren’t a ‘whiskey girl,’ or whatever it was that you said, but he had offered you a drink either way.
Neither one of you had even gotten tipsy, so he couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol. But the connection had always been there, though, one thing finally leading to another and all the unsaid words and stolen glances between you both began to surface.
It was as if everything you both silently felt for another was starting to seep through and everything that hindered you from telling each other no longer mattered.
It had felt so hot, from the way you held him close with your legs wrapped around his waist to the messy yet passionate kisses you shared, your bodies connected beneath.
It was everything Aaron envisioned it to be. But, as magical and heated as it was, he was the one to have ended things before they even had a chance at starting.
The morning after, as soon as you had both untangled your bodies from one another and got dressed to get back home to Quantico, he had done the stupidest thing imaginable.
“We shouldn’t do this again.”
You froze in your spot, half-way through tugging your pants up your legs. You blink at him from where he stood on the other side of the bed, already dressed, “This?”
“Yes.” Aaron says, voice awfully neutral.
You frown, jutting out your bottom lip that same way you did when you were thinking, “May I ask why?”
He takes a deep breath, “I’m your boss,” he gives you a pointed look, as if he had to remind you after fucking you dumb, “and you’re my subordinate. This goes against several workplace regulations and if anyone were to find out we could both lose our jobs.”
You’re quiet for several moments after that, and Aaron uses the silence to his advantage to prepare for any arguments you could be thinking of to use against him. He can’t seem to read you, though, your expression pensive as you stare at the floor.
Then you shrug. “Okay.” You say, simple and nonchalant.
Aaron watches as you continue finishing getting ready and he doesn’t know if he should ask if you were actually okay with it.
He decides that it’s for the best, not getting any pushback or having to argue on why he’s just subconsciously pushing you away after having one of the best nights of his life.
“Okay.” He repeats, giving you a small nod, even though you weren’t looking at him. With one last glance to your surprisingly calm figure, he finishes collecting the rest of his things and heads out of the room.
Even after the team had checked out of their hotel and settled onto the jet, you didn’t spare him a second glance. You hadn’t necessarily moved to ignoring him or silently lashing out, but it was as if everything went back to normal, with no mentions or glances back to that night.
That should be what was driving him crazy; the way he didn’t know if you were only calm because you were planning on going to the higher-ups, to HR, about what had happened. If you were secretly planning on putting him on blast out of anger or betrayal or telling him that he had coerced you to sleep with him and threatened you in case you didn’t.
No. What was driving him crazy was that he couldn’t get you out of his head, even after he broke things off.
Everything was engraved into his mind, from the sight of you on your knees, mouth full of his cock while you stared up at him with tear-pricked eyelashes and basked in his praises. Or the way your nails dug into his skin as he thrusted into you and the way you felt around him, all while he took pleasure in the sweet sounds he emitted from you every second.
He was going mad, and the already established feelings he had for you weren’t helping, either.
Aaron stared at you from inside his office, studied your features from afar whilst you sat on your desk. Your face was set in a neutral expression, flickering your attention from your computer screens to the physical files in front of you, but all he could see was the same face and person morphed into the one that had been withering in pleasure underneath him.
“Hotch…” you whine, a hand wrapped around his bicep as he dipped a finger inside your glistening pussy.
He watched as your back arched off the bed, throwing your head back against the pillows at the feeling of his thick digit inside you, “What, sweetheart?” He asked, the nickname rolling of his tongue easily. “What do you need? Hm?”
Your hips stuttered as he inserted another finger, thrusting them in and out you, “Y-You. I want you. Inside me.” You peered at him through your fluttering lashes, your mascara smudged underneath your eyes from the tears that had slipped out while you were sucking his cock.
“Yeah?” His voice is filled with amusement and bewilderment, one part of him indulging in seeing you this way—all disheveled and needy for him—while the other was still stunned at the whole thing. “Want my cock inside you after you just had it in your mouth?”
You nod meekly at his words, a sweet pout adorning your flushed lips.
Despite the heat and tension that suffocated the room, Aaron’s heart fluttered at the sight of you. The way you were asking for him ever so bashfully after just giving him the best head of his life tugged at his heartstrings and made his cock twitch.
“Please,” you whisper, bucking your hips upwards. A stuttered gasp emits from your lips when you feel the tip of his dick prod at your sopping entrance, “Aaron…”
Aaron lets out a low, throaty groan at the sound of his first name mumbled in desperation, and he thinks back to all the times he’s thought about you like this. How many times he’s dreamed of having you underneath him, encaged by his broad figure and whining for him.
“I got you, sweet girl,” he says promisingly. He lifts himself to his full height on his knees, lining himself up with your entrance and holding onto the meat of your thigh. Another groan utters from the back of his throat, mixed in with your gasps and puffs of breath as he begins to sink inside you.
A knock on his office door forces Aaron to snap out of his train of thought. He looks down at himself, registering the painfully hard boner he was now sporting. Quickly, he scooted further into his desk so that the tent in his pants wouldn’t be visible by whoever was knocking on his door. Clearing his throat, he lets out a somewhat proper ‘come in.’
In walks Garcia, and Aaron doesn’t know if he should be thankful or mortified it was her out of all people.
“Sir?” She asks politely, files in hand and head tilted in an ever so Penelope manner. “We’re ready whenever you are.”
Right. It was barely nine in the morning and Aaron was already sporting a growing tent in his suit pants.
He nods, doing his best to feign being busy, “I’ll be there in five, Garcia.”
He wants to think he comes out as somewhat normal, but panic surges through him briefly when her expression turns into a curious one.
“Are you alright, sir?” She takes a step forward and Aaron has to hold himself back from screaming for her to stay where she is. “You look red and pale at the same time.”
He shakes his head, waving a hand dismissively yet good-naturedly, “I’m fine. Jack is coming down with something and I think I might be, too.”
Great. Now he was using his innocent son as a scapegoat for his own horniness and bad decisions. Some father he was.
Garcia nods, looking convinced enough before bidding him a nod shuffling out of his office and closing the door behind her.
Aaron lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in. His boner had softened the slightest bit, and he was conflicted in trying to make it go down completely or taking care of it right here and now. But the thought of having to face his team after fucking himself into his fist mortified him. Of seeing you, right after fucking himself into his fist to the thought of you after leaving you hanging coldly.
He opted out of it, though it took more than five minutes to settle himself before heading over to the conference room. Once again, he tried to play it as casual as possible while he walked to his seat with everyone staring expectantly at him, including you.
“Let’s get started.”
The team’s briefings went on as so, everyone presenting their perspective cases and discoveries within them. It was a bit easier to lose focus of what he was thinking earlier when the gory crime scenes showed up on the TV screen each time someone went up, but all focus was lost when it was your turn.
You stood from your seat, taking the control from Penelope’s hands and talking everyone through the case you were currently focusing on.
Aaron held his fist up to his face as he tried to focus on the details of the case instead of you and your entire being. Your hair whipped out and into your face each time you looked from the screen and back to the team. The top part of your dress twisted with each turn and motion you made, the bottom part of it creasing along with it. Was it a new dress?
Didn’t matter. It didn’t compare to the pajama shorts he had slowly, almost tauntingly, pulled down your legs before–
“...makes me think he’s keeping them in a secluded space. He obviously likes the control and the pleasure of having his victims’ screams and cries for help to himself, so I’ve advised police to search condemned and empty areas far away from the city and even on the outskirts of the town.” You finished with a nod and once again Aaron was snapped away from his unholy thoughts.
While everyone else added their own commentary and advice, Aaron realized he had been the only to have not said anything during your presentation, too preoccupied with you once more.
“Adding in the possibility of him keeping them outside of the main town the victims have been found in was a smart move,” He quickly added, trying his best to comment on what he had paid attention to. His breath hitched when you turned to look at him. “Law enforcement might have missed that and can collaborate with police from the next town over. Good job.”
You smiled softly and nodded in appreciation, “Thank you.”
Fuck. How were you so nonchalant about this? Aaron’s mind wandered back to the probability of you getting back at him by going to Strauss about your rendezvous. It was only early morning Monday, the first day back in the office after said events, so it wasn’t a surprise he hadn’t heard anything from her. Yet.
He nodded back in response, though, casting his gaze downwards and collecting his things, “Great. I expect everyone’s reports to be on my desk by tonight, please.”
Everyone stood from their seats, shuffling out of the room with mumbled conversations. Aaron held back, taking his time in looking through his files and stacking them together while you did the same, leaving the two of you alone once everyone else had gone.
He wanted to say something, gather the courage to ask you something. Anything, just to make sure you were alright. If the two of you were still right, in spite of everything.
Only when you finished collecting things did he bring himself to open his mouth, a soft utterance of your name to get your attention.
You stopped in your tracks, a good couple feet away from him and the door. You stared at him, waiting for him to speak with a neutral expression on your face.
Not one of annoyance or irritation. Just expectant.
God, you really were driving him crazy.
You raised a brow when he didn’t say anything, “…Yes?”
He clears his throat again before asking, “Is everything okay?”
You blink and tilt your head, dumbfounded, “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Aaron grips at his files, guilt consuming him all over again. “With us,” he clarifies, swallowing harshly. “Is everything okay with us?”
You blink a couple more times, eyes wandering to the side as if you’re trying to catch onto what he’s implying.
It makes his heart churn.
“Oh.” You finally say, meeting his gaze. “Yes. We both agreed, no? To what you said.”
Aaron can’t decipher if the smile you give him is genuine or jeering, and he can’t tell if what you say last is clarifying as his answer or if it’s something underlyingly petty.
Either way it’s something. You’ve given him something and he’ll take it.
He nods finally, “Yes, we did.”
You shrug, smiling a bit wider this time, “All good then.”
He gives another curt nod, stepping to the side so you could exit the room. He moves to follow behind you, but he gets a whiff of your perfume as soon as you brush past him. The scent makes him halt and he has to hold onto one of the back posts of a chair to stabilize himself.
He takes a deep breath, inhaling the remnants that linger behind you for a moment.
He truly was going crazy.
The rest of the day goes by the same and hardly any work gets done on Aaron’s end. He’d scribble whatever he needed to write down or fill out then get distracted by the void of you.
It was getting impossible for him to keep working with the relentless problem that was his ongoing boner. He was tucked into his desk all the way yet it hurt whenever he leaned forward or backwards while moving around. Oftentimes he tried to give himself some sort of relief by running a hand over himself, but it didn’t help much, and the dirty thoughts about you certainly didn’t either.
The sounds that filled the room were lewd, your gags and moans from below mixed in with Aaron’s grunts and words of encouragement echoing off the hotel room’s walls. His large hand was entangled in your hair, pushing your head forward to take more of him, as if your jaw wasn’t aching enough already.
Though there wasn’t a way for him to tell, really. You gave no sign or indication that you wanted him to stop, your tongue swiping at the head of his cock each time he dipped your head even more. Saliva pooled from your tongue and leaked from your mouth, dripping into the carpeted floor and entailing a trail from your lips to your chin.
Aaron’s head was thrown back in utter pleasure and astonishment, bewildered that you’d ever be doing this to him. He didn’t want to finish before you, but it was taking everything him to not give in and fuck your face the way he truly desired.
He’d never received head this good, nor had he received it much recently. His legs were spread with you settled in between them contently. “That’s it sweetheart,” he mumbled, brushing fallen strands of hair out of your face lovingly. “Taking me so good, such a good girl.”
His praises only edged you on even further, bobbing your head up and down a couple more times before pulling off of him with a slick ‘pop!’ You rest your head on his thigh in an attempt to catch your breath, a shaky, stuttered sigh heaving from your chest as your hand comes up to continue the rest of your work.
Aaron has to run a hand over his face to try and keep his composure, his nails digging into the skin of his palm albeit their short length. He throws his head back against his chair, a grunt threatening to emit from his throat as he coercively runs his hand over his boner.
At least he wishes he can say it’s coercively, really it’s just a tainted image of you he’s embedded in his own dirty mind.
It doesn’t take long for Aaron to give in and reach inside his pants, sparing another careful glance to his now locked office door before springing his painfully hard cock free. A low, pleased grunt spills from his pursed lips as he wraps his hand around himself. He gives his length a good tug, bucking his hips up instantaneously, the same way he did when you first wrapped your mouth around him.
Still, as cautiously and quietly as possible, he begins to stroke at his length, a hand covering his mouth as he continues to dart his eyes from below himself to his door–as if anyone would walk in at any second and catch him jerking himself off in his own government-issued office.
He begins to imagine that his fist is you. That you’re sitting in the space between his legs with your hot mouth licking long stripes up his length and that your hand is toying with his balls the same way you did before. It only makes him pump at his fist even faster, the hand that was covering his mouth shooting down to the armrest of his chair, gripping at the cushioned leather as he began to reach his high.
“Fuck, Hotch, fuck!” Your whines are eccentric, head thrown back in pure ecstasy. Your legs wrap around Aaron’s waist, pulling him closer to you as he continues to thrust into your sopping pussy.
Aaron groans loudly, silently thanking that his and yours room was placed further down the hall from everyone else’s. His hands rest at the bottom of your thighs, his large hand gripping the flesh for support as he pounds into you relentlessly. Your pussy grips him like a vice and your nails dig into the skin of his biceps from where you hold him.
His sight is focused on you only, the way your tits bounce with each thrust and the way your mouth is curled into a wide ‘o’ from the pleasure you’re receiving.
“So good for me, baby,” he mumbles, hand coming down to grab at your breast, squeezing possessively before leaning down to crash his lips against yours hungrily.
You whine through the kiss, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging while your other hand scratches at his back. A string of saliva connects at your lips when he pulls away, his head dipping down to kiss and suck at your neck while he grabs your hips to better pistol himself inside you.
A moan echoes through the room again and straight to his ear, your back arching into his chest, “Feels so good, Aaron, so good!”
Aaron’s release sputters everywhere messily and he has to bite at his fist to stop himself from groaning loudly. His come spills onto parts of his leg, his desk, and even onto the floor. He leans back into his chair, trying to contain himself and his heaving chest.
He takes a look at the mess he created–the mess you unknowingly entailed from him. Like clockwork, the paranoia and guilt from doing this begins to seep in and he’s quick to snatch a handful of tissues from the box he kept on the corner of his desk to clean himself up. He tucks himself back into his pants then moves to clean at his desk and his floor.
Clearly, he hadn’t known what he was thinking. Not when it came to calling things off between the two of you before they even happened and certainly not now after he realized the spell he was currently in.
The last hour of the work day comes by agonizingly slowly. After his little session, Aaron finds it a little bit easier to get the rest of his work done (key word: a little bit). The rest of the members all begin to spill into his office to hand in their finished paperwork and files, all of them sparing him brief glances of curiosity and concern–the same way Garcia had done earlier–before bidding him goodnight and leaving.
The only one that hasn’t come to hand in anything was you. He knew you were still here, he could see you sitting at your desk from the view through his blinds, scribbling away casually like you had been doing so the whole day. After you had stalled to follow behind the rest of your co-workers, Aaron had gotten up from his desk and pretended to be walking around his office with a file in hand, lifting his head every few minutes to see if you were ever making your way towards him to turn in your work.
He wanted desperately to know what you were thinking. If you were secretly being tortured by the recollections of your hook-up, too, or if you truly didn’t care about him basically dumping you after having sex with you and telling you that it could never happen again due to your perspective titles.
With a defeated sigh, he closes the file he was still pretending to read. His eyes instinctively travel back to where your desk was at and his breath immediately catches in his throat when he sees that you aren’t there. He hears the sound of footsteps approaching closer and closer through the staircase that leads up to his office and you walk in soon after.
You freeze in the doorway when you see that he’s already staring at you. Your eyes flicker to a space behind him then back at him before you take a tentative step back and glance at the clock hung on the wall facing his desk, “Uh, is this a bad time?”
“No!” Aaron takes a step forward when you take another one back. He rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly, “No, no, it’s not. I didn’t know you were still here. Everyone else left almost half an hour ago.”
“Oh,” you glance back behind you to the rest of the bullpen before looking back at him. “I was just finishing up the reports you said you wanted done by the end of today.” You jut your chin toward the stack of files you were carrying in one arm.
“Right.” He clears his throat, motioning to the pile of files the rest of the team had stacked on his desk. “You can just leave them there.”
You nod, giving him a small smile.
He watches as you walk over to his desk, taking in your appearance while you double-check that everything was correct. He swallowed harshly, taking in the way your skirt hugged your lower figure perfectly the same way it did during the morning debriefing. Your hair flows ever so slightly and he takes in a good look at your side profile when you tuck a loose strand behind your ears while you continue to flip through the pages of your file.
You’re breathtakingly gorgeous and Aaron doesn’t know if what suddenly makes him start walking up behind you is from what he’s felt since sleeping with you or if it’s everything he’s felt since way before that.
You halt your movements when you feel his presence directly behind you, gasping when you turn and find how close he was standing.
“Hotch–” you gulp, heat blooming through your cheeks albeit feeling confused. “W-What are you doing?”
Aaron takes in your tone and he can tell that you’re not asking in a disgusted, annoyed way, more so in a flustered way. He lifts a hand to brush the hair that frames your face past your face but doesn’t actually move to do it, keeping it there to see if you push him away. But you don’t. So he brushes it away.
“I can’t get you out of my head.” He mumbles, eyes boring into the side of your face as you stare up at him as best as you can from your practically rigid figure.
You scoff, a sound filled with so much humor yet so little at the same time, “You were the one that said this couldn’t happen again.” You twist your head, trying to turn your body around more with the way he had you pressed against the front of his desk.
“That was a mistake,” he whispers. He dips his head so that his mouth is by your ear, watching you shiver from the proximity.
“A mistake?” You repeat, brows raised. You lull your head to the side but you don’t know if you do it to get away from him or to grant him access to your neck.
Aaron takes it as the latter and hovers his lips over your skin, the same spot where he had left splotches of pink and purple last time.
“Yes,” he confirms, “a mistake.”
You want to ask why he said it then, want to press him for answers but you can’t when his hot breath sends shivers down your spine and arms. Your legs go weak when he brings a hand around you to wrap at your middle, big hand splayed across your stomach to pull you in even closer, if possible.
“H-Hotch,” you clear your throat. “We can’t. You said so yourself.” You roll your shoulders back in a weak effort to push him away, but all he does is hold you tighter.
“I was wrong,” he mutters, pressing a feather-light kiss to the very side of your neck. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of your perfume again and letting out a pleased hum from the back of his throat. “I was so wrong.”
You gasp when he flings an arm out in front of you, proceeding to knock over the multiple things from his desk. Files, pens, and other trinkets fly off the hard wood and land on the floor with a loud crash. Aaron spins you around before you can process the whole mess, turning you around so that you were facing him.
“Aaron-!” Your mind is a whirlwind as he grabs at your hips and easily sets you down on the edge of the desk. His lips crash onto yours messily and you hum, satisfied.
The kiss quickly becomes sloppy and hungry, muffled whines as you two practically devour one another. Your hands wrap around his neck while his own roam your body, curious hands searching for the zipper of your dress and bunching up the fabric in the process. You mewl when he finally finds it and slowly tugs it down. You break apart from the kiss in order to help him, scrambling from side to side so that it comes off from under you.
Aaron lets out a groan at the sight of you as he tosses the dress to the side. You’re wearing a matching set: a lacy white bra that cups your breasts gorgeously and a lacy white thong paired with it. It takes everything in him to not come undone right then and there.
Holding your gaze, Aaron sinks to his knees, shrugging off his suit jacket as he kneels before you.
“Aaron…”
He immediately shushes you, discarding the jacket somewhere next to your dress on his office floor. “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”
Instead of obeying, you knock your knees together bashfully, the fat of your thighs pressing against each other.
Aaron’s eyes darken at your shy defiance. “I said spread your legs.” His hands come out to grab behind your knees and you gasp again when he spreads them apart forcefully, large hands holding them in place.
“Oh, sweet girl,” he utters, gaze locked on your soaked panties. His palms slide down your legs, eyes flickering back up at you as he begins to kiss at your calves. Each peck to your skin leaves a wet trail from your earlier kiss and you whine in anticipation as he makes his way up before coming face to face with your pussy. His fingers hook themselves inside the thin fabric and you immediately get the message, lifting your hips once more so he could slide them down your legs
Aaron swiftly shoves the wet material into his pockets, wasting no time before diving straight in and burying his head in between your thighs.
His tongue swiping at your folds elicits a loud moan from you, your hands shooting out to grab at his head, “Aaron!” You yell out, fingers tangling in his hair to stabilize yourself from the suddenness.
Aaron grunts from below you, the sound sending vibrations up your body and causing you to arch into his touch. He didn’t know how he hadn’t thought of tasting you that night in the hotel room, too preoccupied with the pleasure he had received from you. But–dare he say–this was better than head, better than anything else he had ever gotten, tasted or even done. He wasn’t even a minute into devouring you and he had already decided that this was the best pussy he had ever had in his whole life.
“Fuck, sweetheart. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about this pussy.” He lapped at your juices, mouth hot on your dripping cunt. His hands continued to grip at your thighs, large palms still keeping you in place from where you were writhing in pleasure.
“A-Aaron,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his face. “Please, I need you. Need you so bad.”
Your head was thrown back in utter bliss, hips stuttering with each nibble at your clit. Your fingers tugged his face closer despite the longing you had to feel him inside you, caging his head to keep him there.
Aaron couldn’t help but bask in the sounds he was pulling from you. It was as if his mouth had a mind of his own and all it could focus on was licking up every single one of your juices, the taste nearly intoxicating. He flickered his eyes up to you, taking in the way your chest heaved and your breasts pushed against the cups of your bra, practically spilling out.
Without removing his tongue from your pussy, he reaches behind you and easily undoes the hooks.
You let the straps fall from your shoulders and aid him in tossing it somewhere in the room along with your dress. Desperately, you reach for Aaron’s hands and place them on your breasts, groaning when he rolls each already hard and sensitive nipple in between your fingers.
Your legs begin to shake and you’re quick to wrap them around Aaron’s head, the heels of your feet digging into his muscular back. “Mm, fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you toss your head back as the coil in your belly threatens to snap.
“Yeah?” He teases, angling his head so that he could spit onto your cunt, all before diving right back in and swirling it together with your arousal. “You gonna cum on my mouth, honey?”
You nod, feverishly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel your orgasm getting closer and closer.
“Go ahead, pretty,” Aaron ushers, voice deep and rough from his non stop nibbling and sucking. “Come on my mouth, sweetheart.”
A certain bite on your clit immediately has you seeing stars and the office is soon filled with your cries of ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you violently. Your body shakes and stutters as you ride out the high on his face, leaning backwards until your back was resting against his desk.
Aaron doesn’t relent even as you begin to come down from your high, enhancing the way your legs shook from where they were wrapped around him.
“No, n-no more, Aaron, p-please,” you begged, keeping your back on the desk while weakly attempting to push him away.
“Just one more, honey. You can give me one more, can’t you?”
You don’t get the chance to answer, back arching off the desk as his fingers prodded at your entrance briefly before he shoved two inside. A high-pitched moan emitted from your swollen lips and your hips rutted against his face once more as he scissored the thick digits inside your gummy walls.
“That’s it, pretty girl, that’s it,” Aaron’s sultry words only encouraged you further, his face wet with your arousal and the release of your first orgasm. “I’m gonna make it up to you, sweetheart. But first you gotta give me another one.”
His thumb came up alongside his mouth to rub rough circles on your already sensitive, swollen clit and you immediately felt that coil snap once more, mixing in with the first orgasm you hadn’t even properly come down from.
“Aaron, Aaron, Aaron!” You mumbled dumbly, mouth agape and head hanging back from the desk as you rode out your second high on his face, the heavy wood shaking with every motion.
Aaron’s head was buried even further in between your legs, lips trying to catch every single drop that leaked from your hole, pulling out your fingers and cleaning them with a swirl from his tongue. He delivered a sweet kiss to your folds before standing, his knees cracking in response to being kneeled on the ground for so long.
He leans over, bringing a guiding hand to the back of your neck to get you to sit up, “You good, honey?” Aaron asks, brushing away the stray hands of hair that had stuck to your face. “Still with me?”
You hum, nodding weakly, “Need you, Aaron.”
Aaron chuckles at your fucked-out form, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head, “I got you, sweetheart. Bend over the desk for me.”
You stand on wobbly legs and do as he says blindly, the need to have him inside you outshining your nearing overstimulation. You feel yourself salivate as the sound of him undoing his belt is heard from behind you and you look back to watch him pull himself out from his boxers.
He hears you gasp when his cock springs out and hits against his stomach, tip an angry red and leaking with precome. He wraps a hand around himself and groans at how painfully hard he was. He quickly lines himself up with your entrance, slapping his length against your dripping folds before easing himself inside little by little.
You whine from in front of him when he bottoms out, the tip of his dick easily hitting your sweet spot the same way it did before in the hotel. This time, though, it feels even better with how wet you already were, his cock glistening when he pulls out before shoving himself back in roughly.
It doesn’t take long for Aaron to set a brutal pace, hands on your hips as he begins to pound into you from behind ruthlessly, a stark contrast from the way he had asked you if you were okay.
“Fuck, sweetheart. You have no idea how crazy you’ve driven me since I first fucked this pretty pussy,” Aaron grunted form behind, fingers digging so hard into your hips he was sure there would be an imprint there. “Had to get myself off in my own office, that’s how crazy you had me going.”
You don’t answer. You can’t answer. Your mouth is wide open, small huffs the only noise you can make while a line of saliva drools from your tongue. It’s only when you feel him wrap your hair in his hand and pull your back flush against his chest that you squeal, the angle pushing his cock further inside you.
“You like that, pretty?” He asks deeply, voice hoarse and gravely as he continues to pound into your pussy, the squelching that comes from beneath scandalous. “Like getting this pussy fucked by me, huh?”
You nod dumbly, too fucked out to properly answer him. A harsh slap against your ass makes you cry out, the sting somewhat snapping you back to reality.
“Answer me,” Aaron commands, tugging at your hair and making your back arch even further against him. “Did I fuck you dumb like last time?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble, legs shaking even in your standing position. “I l-love it, Aaron. Feels so g-good.”
He chuckles against your ear, the way you could barely register his questions only making him quicken his pace, “You gonna come on my cock, sweetheart? Gonna give me one more wrapped around me?”
You nod with as much fervor as possible, “Yes, y-yes, can I, Aaron? Want you to c-cum inside me, please.”
“Yeah? Want me to stuff you full of my cum?” He asks. He doesn’t bother to correct you when you don’t answer, instead snaking his hand to your front and down to your pussy.
The feel of him rubbing circles on your clit is the final push you need before you’re clenching around him, body trembling against him as he continues his assault on your swollen bud.
It doesn’t take long for Aaron to spill his own release inside you, giving you a couple more shallow thrusts as he comes down from his own high.
You whine when you feel him pull out, a string of your mixed releases following suit on the tip of his cock.
“So good, baby,” he praises, wrapping a hand around your neck gently and pressing soothing kisses on your cheek. “Did so good for me.”
You lean your head against his shoulder as he reaches for some tissues to clean you up, “So I guess we’re definitely doing this again?”
Aaron laughs, a pink adorning his cheeks, “Yes. Yes, we are. In fact, I’m telling everyone to work from home tomorrow so I can take you on a proper date. I’m not risking going crazy again.”
You suppress a giggle, “You went crazy? Over my pussy?”
He sighs, “If only you knew.”
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loonylupinblack3 · 8 months ago
Text
Go Slow
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
Warnings: SMUT! p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), riding, (brief) dry humping
Summary: it's your first time and Logan tries to go slow, he really does, but some things just can't be helped
Word count: 1.6k
A/N: i'm not too practiced in smut so sorry if it's shit 😭
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Logan knew you were on the shy side of things. During the start of your relationship he’d had to coax words from you, feelings and opinions you held until you felt comfortable enough to share them without being asked. You’d be nervous and fidgety when asking to see him, acting like he was an attractive stranger when he was your boyfriend. 
In all honesty though Logan didn’t mind. He enjoyed your shy, almost naive personality, and was more than happy to wait for you to be comfortable with him before suggesting going any further. 
Sure, it was difficult for him to wait, but not impossible. If his pants tightened slightly when you walked in the room with ridiculously short shorts and practically sat in his lap with them, you didn’t notice. When you were sleeping in bed together and would unconsciously rub yourself against him, causing him to have to leave the bed for a bit lest he did something he'd regret, you remained blissfully unaware. And if he was putting away your laundry and came across a pair of lacy black panties with bows adorning it, you wouldn’t even notice they went missing.
Logan was more than okay to wait.
You, on the other hand, were not.
It started with small changes in you and your actions, though Logan couldn’t quite place his finger on what it was. You were more flustered around him than usual, jumpier and shier than you’d been before. You were quieter too, staring at him with more intensity than before, as if trying to read his mind. Yet it wasn’t as if you were pulling away from him, because you were much more touchy and clingy than usual, always needing to hold him and often being the initiator of any make out session you two might have- which is as far as you’d gone.
It was during one of these sessions, having started when you both grew bored of the movie playing on the screen, that you started straddling Logan, kissing him with more fevor than you usually did. Surprised, though certainly not disappointed, Logan kissed you back, hands resting on your thighs and occasionally running up and down them when his control slipped.
When he felt you rock against him slightly he knew something was up. You were never this forward with him, and was always the one to stop Logan when he got a bit carried away. Yet there you were, gently rocking against him while you kissed, moving against his jeans almost desperately, rubbing against him until there was a rock hard bulge for you to move against and Logan had to gently push you off him.
Immediately you started apologising, looking at your hands nervously fidgeting with your t-shirt, refusing to so much as glance at Logan.
“Hey, hey, you’re alright Bub,” Logan said gently. “I just don’t want to do anything before talking about it first.”
You risked a glance at him, trying to find any lie in his face. “You’re not angry at me?”
Logan would have laughed if he wasn’t worried about upsetting you further. “‘Course not. I fucking loved that, actually, but we can’t do it, or anything like that, without talking about it first. I gotta make sure you’re okay with it.”
You nodded your head with such eagerness Logan’s cock twitched in his pants. “I’m okay with it.”
He smiled at your needy demeanour and had to hold himself back from gladly going along with it. “What exactly do you want, Sweetheart? I gotta know that.”
You bit your lips shyly, glancing up at him from your lashes in such a way Logan was tempted to be fucked with all of this and just take you. He’d been waiting for months, however, so he could certainly wait a few more minutes, and restrained himself as such.
“I want to feel good,” you mumbled quietly. “Want you to make me feel good.”
Oh fuck.
Logan wasn’t sure he could handle this. Desire was coursing through his veins, his cock was throbbing almost painfully against his pants as he watched you, shy and naive but so wanting for him.
“Alright Bub, we can do that,” he eventually said, because fuck he wanted to make you feel good too. He wanted you moaning and whimpering his name, whining and panting underneath him because of him.
Yet as soon as he had you undressed and under him he could tell it wasn’t what you wanted. You looked petrified, eyes squeezed shut as you waited for Logan to enter you, and that just wouldn’t do.
“I’m not doing this Sweetheart,” he said, moving away.
You opened your eyes, seeming both relieved and disappointed at the same time. “What? Why?”
Logan sighed, wrapping you up in his arms and kissing your neck. Even with both of you naked it was surprisingly not desire filled and simply comforting. “Because you obviously don’t want it.”
You shook your head and turned around to face him, straddling him in a similar position as before. “I do want it. Just… it felt a bit scary like that.”
Logan thought about her words for a moment before inspiration struck him. “Do you want to ride me instead?”
You actually gasped, your eyes widening at the suggestion, yet he could also see the desire radiating off of you- he could smell it too- and feel the slick coming from your cunt at the thought. He smirked, taking that as a yes.
“I’m going to lift you up and slowly place you down on me. You can stop me at any moment, okay?” he asked you, wanting to make sure you were comfortable with this.
You nodded your head, looking apprehensive but also excited, as you glanced down at his hard on, licking your lips slightly. “I don’t know if it will fit.”
Logan nearly groaned then and there. “It will.”
Hesitant but sure, you let Logan’s hands wrap around your waist and lift you up, positioning his cock at your entrance. He gave you a few seconds to back out, and when you didn’t, staring at him confidently, Logan sunk you down on his cock.
Fuck even just his tip inside you felt like heaven, your cunt squeezing against him. You let out a gasp and he hesitated, waiting, and you slowly nodded your head, giving him the go ahead to continue. He did so gently, making you take him inch by inch, stopping every so often for you to get used to the feeling of him until you’d finally taken all of him inside you.
The feeling of your walls squeezing his cock was heavenly. He could barely think, and all he wanted to do was fuck you hard and fast, chase the release he so desperately wanted. Yet he waited for it to feel comfortable for you, waiting for the pain to ease before he did anything.
“Okay… what now?” you asked in a timid voice.
Logan had to muffle the sound threatening to escape him at the sight of you blinking bashfully at him while he was inside you. It was too good to be true.
“Now you move,” Logan said roughly, because he didn’t trust himself to move and not fuck you viciously like he wanted to.
You thought for a moment before giving an experimental rock, gasping at the pleasure accompanying the action. You repeated the rock again, then again, creating a slow but sure movement that was slowly killing Logan.
Every sway of your hips, the way you rode his cock eagerly if not skillfully, was pushing him closer and closer to the edge.
“That’s it baby,” he rasped. “Just like that, you’re doing so good for me baby.”
You rolled your hips, whining at the praise and closing your eyes but only increasing your motions, one hand moving up to cup your breast. You grounded onto him, gasping when he hit that perfect spot, whispering Logan’s name like a prayer
He swore at the sight, and couldn’t help the jerk his hips made, a small gasp escaping you. It felt so good, the spike of pleasure overwhelming and your readily response too much, and he did it again.
You moaned this time, a dirty, high pitched sound that was ringing in Logan’s ears, urging him on as he took your hips in his hand and lifted you up, only to slam you down on his cock again. Your moan was delicious, and you placed both your hands on his chest, moving forward to make him go deeper.
Logan did groan this time, and used your hips to continue moving you on his dick, his large hands squeezing the soft flesh of your hips. You were a whining mess, eyes glazed and body limp above him.
“Feel so good,” Logan grunted, thrusting into you. “So fucking good for me.”
You whimpered, gasping as your eyes fluttered closed again. Logan grinned.
“You like that baby? You like me telling you what a good girl you’re being, riding my cock so prettily.”
Your moans came more frequent, panting every second, and Logan could tell you were close. He increased his pace, wanting to see you fall apart in front of him, and wasn’t disappointed by the result.
“Come on baby, cum for me.”
With a cry you threw your head back, ecstasy painting your face as you came, your walls tightening. The feeling of them squeezing Logan’s dick, your cunt milking it for all its worth was too much and he felt himself fall after you, his load of cum shooting into your already stuffed hole.
“Fuck baby,” he cursed, helping you ride out both your highs, moving your hips over him.
You were still panting as you slowly came down from your high, boneless as you laid against Logan’s chest.
“You did so good for me darling,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head.
You let out a sound, nuzzling his neck, and he happily held you against him, pressing kisses to your face and neck till you were ready to move.
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xo100 · 3 months ago
Note
Hi! Could I ask Lando with pregnant reader. Like maybe her getting dizzy bc of all the paparazzis and fans surrounding. Maybe angsty. Dunno if you'll like the idea, but I honestly love ur work soo much
Our little miracle - LN4
*:・゚ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!
*:・゚ Word count: 1244
*:・゚ A/N: first of all I want to say sorry for not being so active lately! I’ve been busy with school and work, I didn’t had any time to write! Second I want to say thank you so much anon! I hope you like this story too! If not let me known!
masterlist / community / request
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౨ৎ
The late morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, warming the bedroom and casting soft golden streaks on the walls. The gentle hum of the city outside was barely audible over the rhythmic sound of Lando’s breathing beside you. His arm was slung lazily over your waist, his warmth seeping into your skin like a comforting blanket.
You blinked sleepily, turning your head to look at him. His face was still soft with sleep, his hair a wild mess of curls that begged to be smoothed down. He looked so peaceful like this, so completely at ease, and it made your heart ache in the best way.
“Caught you staring,” he mumbled, his voice raspy as his lips curled into a sleepy grin.
“I wasn’t staring,” you lied, your cheeks heating up.
“Sure,” he teased, his eyes still closed. “You’ve been staring at me every morning for the past five years. It’s okay, I’m used to it.”
You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “Good morning, Lando.”
“Morning,” he said, finally opening his eyes. They were warm and bright, like pools of melted chocolate, and they crinkled at the corners as he smiled at you. “Guess what day it is?”
You blinked, still half-asleep. “Uh… Saturday?”
“Baby shopping day,” he announced, his grin widening.
You couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “You’re more excited about this than I am.”
“Of course I am!” he said, propping himself up on one elbow. “We’re picking out stuff for our baby. This is a big deal.”
It was a big deal. After months of trying—months of hope and heartbreak—you were finally here. Fourteen weeks pregnant, your little miracle growing inside you. It still didn’t feel real sometimes, like you were dreaming and could wake up at any moment.
“I still can’t believe this is happening,” you said softly, your hand resting on your small but growing bump.
“It’s happening,” Lando said, covering your hand with his. His eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “And I can’t wait to spoil both of you today.”
---
The car ride into the city was filled with laughter and teasing. Lando, as usual, couldn’t resist cracking jokes, trying to lighten the nerves you hadn’t even realized you were feeling.
“Okay, but hear me out,” he said, glancing at you with a mischievous grin. “What if we name the baby after a car? Like… Ferrari Norris. Or McLaren Norris. That’s got a nice ring to it, right?”
You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Absolutely not. Our child is not going to be named after a car brand.”
“Fine,” he said, pretending to pout. “But if they grow up to be a racer, I’m taking full credit for the inspiration.”
The boutique Lando had chosen was tucked away in a quieter part of the city, its window displays filled with pastel-colored baby clothes and wooden toys. The moment you stepped inside, you were greeted by the soft scent of lavender and the faint sound of a lullaby playing over the speakers.
Lando’s eyes lit up as he took in the rows of tiny clothes and baby accessories. “This is it,” he said, grabbing your hand. “This is where we find all the cool stuff.”
You spent the next hour wandering the store, debating over cribs and strollers, laughing as Lando tried to convince you that the baby absolutely needed a mini Formula 1 onesie.
“Come on,” he said, holding it up with a grin. “How cute would they look in this?”
“They’d look adorable,” you admitted, “but they’ll probably outgrow it in a month.”
“Worth it,” he said, tossing it into the shopping basket.
You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. Seeing him like this—so excited, so ready to dive headfirst into parenthood—made your heart swell with love.
---
By the time you left the store, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, and the streets were bustling with activity. Lando carried the shopping bags in one hand, his other arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders.
You didn’t notice the paparazzi at first.
It started with a few flashes, the sudden brightness making you blink. Then came the voices—shouting questions and calling Lando’s name.
“Lando! Over here!” “How’s the season going?” “Is it true you’re expecting?”
The crowd seemed to grow out of nowhere, fans and photographers swarming around you. The noise was overwhelming, a cacophony of voices and camera clicks that made your head spin.
“Lando,” you said softly, gripping his arm.
He turned to you immediately, his eyes scanning your face. “Hey, are you okay?”
You tried to nod, but the dizziness was already setting in. The flashes, the shouting, the crush of bodies—it was too much.
“I don’t feel…” Your voice trailed off as your vision blurred.
Lando didn’t hesitate. Dropping the shopping bags, he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you steady. “Alright, that’s enough!” he snapped, his voice sharp and commanding. “Back off! She’s pregnant. Give her some space!”
The crowd faltered, the realization rippling through them. But Lando didn’t wait for them to comply. He guided you away from the chaos, his body shielding yours as he led you down a quieter side street.
“Breathe, love,” he said softly, stopping to face you. His hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall. “In and out. I’ve got you.”
You nodded, focusing on his voice, his touch. The dizziness slowly faded, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your palm.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, guilt creeping in. “I ruined our day.”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” Lando said, his tone gentle but firm. “You and the baby come first. Always.”
You managed a weak smile. “Even over baby sneakers?”
“Even over baby sneakers,” he said, grinning. “But just barely.”
---
Back at home, the chaos of the day felt like a distant memory. Lando had insisted on ordering takeout, claiming that you deserved to be spoiled after the ordeal.
As you sat on the couch, surrounded by the shopping bags you’d managed to bring home, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace. Lando was in the kitchen, humming softly as he poured you a glass of water.
“Here you go,” he said, handing it to you before sitting down beside you. His hand immediately found its way to your stomach, resting there gently.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft.
“I’m okay,” you said, covering his hand with yours. “Thanks to you.”
He smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. “I can’t wait to meet them,” he said quietly, his voice filled with wonder.
“Me too,” you whispered, leaning into him.
For a while, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the only sounds the faint hum of the city outside and the occasional rustle of the shopping bags.
“You know,” Lando said after a moment, “I meant what I said earlier. You and the baby come first. Always.”
You turned to look at him, your heart swelling with love. “I know,” you said. “And I love you for it.”
“I love you too,” he said, his eyes shining with emotion. “More than anything.”
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room in a warm, golden glow, you realized that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and Lando would face them together.
And that was all that mattered.
౨ৎ
*:・゚ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!
*:・゚tags; @gridprincess-04 , @justaf1girl
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tojisteddy · 24 days ago
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Sweet Ride | smut, 18+ MDNI, 1.2k words, softdom!Toji x sweetheart!reader
You’d been 3 months into your relationship when Toji Fushiguro finally realized that you, for some odd reason, loved letting idiots fuck you.
It must’ve been where that very minuscule masochism kink came from. Had to be.
He’d noticed the way you’d get shocked when he went to pay for— well- everything. Didn’t matter if he lost a shit ton from gambling and losing that day, didn’t matter if you went over your own set budget, didn’t matter that you didn’t ask because you didn’t want to look money hungry or if you quickly pulled out your card and paid. He’s sending $300 to you to make up for it. The man. Was going. To pay.
Toji also noticed the way you’d shy away when you realized he was actually listening to the words that came out of your mouth. Informing you that he hated that coworker of Sherl just a little bit more than you did. Plainly telling you ‘no’, he didn’t just want to see just your hair bone straight- he wanted to see your curly hair that framed your face (when you wanted to of course) and that he thought you would look good with any hair color not just the jet black. Or when you only went to make food that he liked,
“But this is what my ex-“
“—Mama, what do you really wanna eat? Tell me or we’ll both starve tonight.”
Truthfully, it irritated the fuck out of the man.
He didn’t get it, how someone so precious got treated like shit on multiple occasions. He kept reminding himself that you weren’t the problem, those fucking dick wads were.
But the irritation jumped back out when you rode him. He knew after that first time (just a week ago) that those fucking idiots didn’t know what the fuck to do with you. He’d cock his eyebrow up at you because he simply couldn’t hide the vexation of it all.
“You don’t like it Toj?” Your voice was hoarse, curls falling over your face, a pout forming.
It was clear the way you moved your hips back and forth, held yourself and didn’t use him for leverage, you rode your ex’s to get them off and nothing more.
More sins against God.
There had to be a scripture about it somewhere, “Never let thou spouse ride-ith you in cowgirl without her cumming.” Or something— the man didn’t know. He knew for a fact, only a bitch would never let a woman cum while she’s riding him.
“Toji? ‘M sorry, it must not be good.” You let out a shaky breath, trying to relax, not be too touchy. “ ‘S just harder cause you’re so… so big. ‘Nd I- fuck- mmm- don’t think I’ve ever had time to relax like this. I must be takin too long.”
Shit, you frowned, big brown puppy eyes looking down at the green eyed monster and his heart ached. He nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck, his poor pretty baby. Sweet doll, don’t you worry your little head. Your Toji would fix this little problem tonight.
And when you two were done, he’d beat the fucking breaks out of each and every single one your exes.
It would cleanse the soul.
“ ‘S okay baby, yer doin good. Need you to relax f’me. Want you to take a little bit more though, hm? You can take it, right? You’re a good girl.”
You bit your lip, nodding in agreement.
Such a good girl. Toji’s sweet ‘nd good girl.
Tojis hands pulled you closer. “How do I get ya to relax then? Can you tell me?” You felt your cheeks heat up, shaking your head and attempting to hide yourself in his neck. But Toji kept you still, playfully bumping your foreheads together with a chuckle.
“Let’s find out then,” His hands wandered, up and down your sides, then one staying at the small of your back, the other making its way to your pretty tit in his hand. Slowly massaging it in his palm. “Maybe you like it here?”
You whimpered in his mouth and Tojis scar moved upward in amusement, green eyes low. He left a trail of kiss from your cute cheeks, down to your jaw. “Or here?” Down to your neck, taking a few nibblies here and there. “Or here?”
You let out a soft moan, finally nodding your head.
“Words, mama.” He was stern but you felt the grin against your neck.
“T-there feels— feels so nice Toj.” The man hummed at your words, being sure to praise you with an array of kisses and hickeys for the world to see tomorrow on your neck.
“I-I can move now?” You asked. You felt so full with what he was giving you, but you felt so good with every little kiss the aching tip and veins of his member gave to your walls.
“Course doll.” He enterwinted your fingers, “Gotta take it nice ‘nd slow baby, don’t gotta go fast.”
You gulped, gradually lifting yourself up and down and rocking your hips back and forth, then repeating the motion. Your hands left his large ones, starting to use his shoulders as leverage, “There you go ma, there you fuckin go.”
He hissed, you were a god damn waterfall down there. Toji didn’t even know how the fuck you were still managing to keep him insider everytime you’d move up so just the tip was in, and slamming back down. When you tried to go faster a large calloused hand came down to your ass.
“B-but Tojiii,” you whined, slowly swiveling your hips one time to get a curse out of him. “Wanna make you feel good too.”
“ ‘Nd I ‘ppreciate Doll, I do. You feel so fuckin good too ma, but it’s not about me tonight, ‘s about you. Need you to really feel it deep in your pretty pussy.” He gave you a few thrusts, matching your rhythm creating the most beautiful smack smack smack your bedroom has ever heard.
“Take what you need babygirl.”
Toji had a way with words, he’d gotten a pornographic moan from it alone. Your nails dug into his shoulders, the meat of your thighs jiggling every time you came down. Slick drenching Toji’s cock, your thighs were burning but you kept moving. Chasing your high with every bounce on his fat fuck.
“Goooood girl, now you got it doll.”
“I can— I can take more Toji.” You stammered out.
“I’d loooove that sweetheart— shit ma- but not tonight. Ngh— This is just enough.”
“But—“
“-Aht,” he grumbled, helping you move your hips as you got just a tad too slow for his liking, “don’t bite more than you can chew. Come on, you can make yourself and your boyfriend cum, can’t you?”
He didn’t have to tell you twice, you were grinding and slamming yourself down what you could take as hard as ever getting a loud from Toji. You were such a good and fast leaner, the man would have to keep you. Train you to do other things, soon enough you’d be able to take all of him. You were fucking pulsing like a over worked heartbeat around him as a wave of emotions smacked you over the head, a string of fuck fuck fuck and Toji Toji Toji leaving your mouth.
The man growled, giving your ass a few harsh smacks as he rapidly thrust into you. You never knew when you were cumming so you never vocalized it.
You’d work on that too.
Quickly pulling out, spurts of his cum hit your stomach. You both were panting messes, Toji’s pink lips meeting your temple, then your soft full lips.
“Good fuckin job, mama.”
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a/n: ride the dragon by fka twigs
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