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#They have jobs and responsibilities that can't be moved around
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Toy Salesman! Childe x Partner! Reader
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your husband is a travelling toy salesman, but is he really just a travelling salesman?
A toy salesman who played a balalaika arrived at your village and quickly became the talk of the town. Not only did he have handsome looks but he was charming too, parents also commented that his toys seemed to be of good quality so they approved of him.
You met him when your little brother wouldn't shut up about wanting a new toy, so your parents told you to accompany him to the toy salesman. As soon as you laid eyes on him, he was the prettiest man you have ever seen... You found his red-tinted nose from the cold cute too.
A little flirty too... But... it turns out it was only towards you.
The short fling didn't last long as he had to leave the village for another one. You thought that was the last time you'd ever have anything close to love but you were wrong. As he came back... and back again... again... again... again...! Soon, your relationship that was just a fling turned into... being a couple!
"Childe!" you smiled as you ran up to him, he opened his arms as he wore that charming smile on his face. You jumped right into his arms as he held you tight, spinning you around a little out of excitement. "You're back... I missed you..." you mumbled as you buried your face in his neck.
He let out a small laugh, "Yeah... It's really great to be back to you." he slowly placed you down and kissed the top of your head. "Come on! My brother was waiting for you... My mother also cooked some soup for us!" you told him but he grabbed your hand, stopping you. You turned to him, confused.
But your eyes widened when he slowly showed a gold ring, before he could even say a thing, you just hugged him and kept chanting 'Yes!'.
The wedding was simple, it was held in the town square. You were surrounded by family, friends, and neighbors during your special day which made you happy but... Leaving them for another town did hurt a little.
"Are you sure? Why can't you both just settle here?" your mother asked. "Well... Childe's work requires him to go from town to town so we decided it'd be best to just move somewhere that can help him with his job." you replied. Your father sighed, "I... still don't really understand what you see in him. He isn't rich, and I fear for your future as he's just a mere toy maker." he commented, your mother smacked his arm.
"Dear, if you ever feel lonely or if anything happens, you can always come back here. You're always welcome back here in the village, alright? Don't hesitate to ask for our help." your mother told you to which you nodded.
You said your final goodbyes and soon set off with Childe to a bigger town with bigger opportunities. When you arrived at your supposed new home, you were surprised! It was huge! You asked how he was even able to afford it to which he just laughed off and said that he saved up.
Things were going great between the two of you, you were starting to adjust to your life there but... Something seemed off... Like Childe was hiding something... It's just... Suspicious how much money he spends to spoil you... Could he really earn that much money as a toy salesman?
Of course, you were grateful, but at the same time it... was suspicious...
Childe seemed to notice you were deep in thought, "Is there something wrong Y/n?" he asked, hands wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. The two of you were in bed making it a little harder to try to avoid his question.
You hummed in response. "Really?? It seems like you're mad at me... you avoided my kiss this morning." He told you to which you let out a small laugh, "I just got embarrassed because of my morning breath, I just woke up at that time." You replied. It wasn't really a lie... you hated giving kisses when you still hadn't freshened up in the morning but at the same time, you had your suspicions that you didn't really know the full truth of his job.
He didn't say another word and only just hummed in response. You then closed your eyes, thinking that was the end of it only to get jumpscared when he starts leaving wet kisses on your neck.
Safe to say the two of you got intimate that night as you folded so quickly, under zero pressure too. You cursed at yourself in the morning though as you were too sore to even try to investigate what your husband could be doing behind your back.
The following day, you decided to go to the snowy forest, you just chose to distract yourself from any useless thoughts. You were looking for snowberries to make a lotion with. "Hmm... I should give Childe a lot of it... His hands are rough and calloused after all." you mumbled. You soon notice a familiar figure, that build... That structure... That height... Hair... Oh my god...? "Childe!" You shouted his name.
He turned to you, his facial expression looked like he was glaring at you for a second before switching to a smile. "My love! What brings you here?" He asked. Weird, he's not one to call you pet names. "I thought you were supposed to be in another town, what are YOU doing here?" you asked as you looked around.
"Where's your toy st-" he cut you off. "That's not important. Look... How about we just head home, hm?" he asked as he gave you a smile. Weird... Very weird... His smile didn't make your heart skip. Instead, it left a shiver down your spine...
"Al... Alright..." you mumbled as he started heading towards the town, you followed him from behind. Your gut tells you something is very wrong... But you just can't put your finger to i-
Wait... He doesn't have his toy stand... he usually has that... Plus why would he be in a forest- Oh... Oh...!
"Childe... Have you... Thought of something to do on our anniversary for tomorrow yet?" you asked. "Hm? That? Hmm... Maybe we should go to the town for a date." he responded. Your anniversary was months away.
You stopped on your tracks, who the fuck was this man? You knew damn well Childe would never ever forget your anniversary, that... that... weird feeling in your gut... it was... Telling you to run.
So there you go, you fucking booked it. You turned your heel around and started running away from it. It was hard to run away in your heavy clothes, you felt like you were being suffocated or you were running out of air from how much you panted.
It quickly noticed you running away but you didn't dare turn back to see how far away it was from you. That was NOT your husband, that was an imposter... If so then... Where is Childe now?? Is he dead?? What the absolute fuck is happening!?!
You could hear a loud rustle of feathers behind you, why would it sound like fathers...? God it just confused you even mo- "AAAAAAHHHH....!!!!" You let out a loud scream as the creature seemed to have flown in front of you. You abruptly stopped running, causing you to fall down, butt first in the snow.
You couldn't even describe what the fuck you were looking at right now... It looked like a crow but... Big...??? It was frightening... And that... Fucking eyes... It sent a shiver down your spine.
"Ah... How did you even know? It was a perfect disguise..." It spoke as you only trembled in fear, slowly backing away. Is this how you die...?? On the hands of a monster, you don't even know about...? It slowly approached you...
You whimpered in fear as you quickly started backing away, your body froze when your back hit a tree. Was this really how you die?? Without knowing whether your husband is dead or alive?? Oh god... What happens after it kills you?? Will it kill other people in the town too?? What will it do to you?? Is it going to eat you alive or just kill you firs-
*Thud*
You watched the creature's head fall to the ground. Your lower lip trembled as your body felt pure relief when you saw Childe holding some sort of weapon. The head opened its mouth but Childe just crushed it. Childe had an indifferent look on his face, his eyes looked lifeless but...
He looks up at you, his eyes having a gentle gaze. "Y/n..." he rushed to you as he wrapped you around his arms, you held him tight as you sobbed. "Hey... It's okay now, I'm here..." he reassured you.
You didn't know the full truth of his job, but it might be better to not know more. All you knew was that Childe would never bring harm to you.
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inheritedbelly · 3 days
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Heavy Lifting
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I start the day excited about the new job. It's not what I dreamed of, of course, but it's a start, a way to gain experience and, maybe, distract myself from the mess my life has become. I work in the warehouse of a factory. I'm an apprentice to Mr. Fred, a big, sweaty 60-year-old man. When I arrived, he was leaning against a pile of boxes, breathing slowly, the weight of his enormous belly rising and falling. He has a deep, thick voice that seems to resonate in his chest, but what stands out the most is his size. I'm not talking about his height, but his width. The guy is huge, almost as if life had shaped him around a giant belly. When he laughs, it feels like his whole body shakes. I can't imagine being in his skin, it must be uncomfortable and gross, but aside from that, he's a nice guy.
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The work is exhausting. We carry and move boxes, organize shelves. Things are always missing, and we're the ones responsible for keeping everything in order. I just wish my life was like that—organized. At the end of the day, after lifting heavy things all day, Fred suggests we sit down and talk for a bit. Sitting across from him, I start to open up. I don’t know why, but the words come out before I can hold them back. I talk about my issues with my dad, how I don’t have a mom, and how the pressure to choose a college is suffocating me. I don’t know what I want to do with my life, I just wish I could skip this phase, wake up one day and have everything figured out. Fred listens attentively, his gaze heavy, almost as if he’s absorbing everything I’m saying. He nods slowly, and after a pause, he laughs, slapping his large belly. "Funny," he says. "I wish for the opposite. I wish I could be young again. Skinny. Do everything over, make different choices." His laughter fades, and he looks at the floor for a moment. Then, he looks at me with a strange gleam in his eyes. "You know what, kid? I think I know how to solve our problem." He snaps his fingers, and before I can respond, my vision goes black.
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When I wake up, the first thing I feel is a strange coldness on my head. I reach up to the top of my head and… nothing. I'm bald. My heart races, and I look down, terrified. I see a huge belly, a round sphere dominating my field of vision, as if it’s an extension of me, but… it can’t be. The striped shirt covering this body isn’t mine. I try to get up from the armchair I’m sitting in, but everything feels different. Heavy. I grab the belly, this mass of flabby flesh that seems to be part of me now, and I look at my hands. They’re large, wrinkled, covered in saggy skin. It’s like I’m wearing gloves of flesh. I feel panic rising, and I let out a scream, but the sound that comes out of my throat isn’t mine. It’s hoarse, old. I bring my hand to my neck and feel a double chin. Horror overwhelms me, and I fall forward, my body too heavy to keep balance.
I lift my head, struggling, and I see my old body standing there, smiling at me with a malicious look. Everything clicks in an instant. I’ve switched bodies with Fred.
"What the hell did you do?" I shout, my voice now rougher than ever. Fred, in my body, lets out a short, mocking laugh. "Relax, kid. It was just a spell. A solution to our little problem."
I panic. "Undo it! I want my life back! My youth!" But he just shakes his head, still laughing. "You can’t. The spell can only be done once. Now it’s permanent."
My heart, or what was left of it in that old body, starts pounding out of control. I stumble backward, trying to process this new reality. I feel the belly wobbling with every step I take, like an anchor dragging me down. This can’t be true. This can’t be happening.
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I run, or at least I try to, to the office bathroom. I lock the door behind me and look in the mirror. The reflection shows me an old, sweaty man with a desperate expression on his face. The face isn’t mine. The skin is full of wrinkles, the cheeks sagging. I run my hand over my face, unable to believe what I see. I can’t stop holding my belly. It’s always there, like a constant reminder that I’m now someone else. Fred knocks on the door, and I hear his voice—my voice from before. “Hey, it’s not going to be that bad, let’s be honest. Now you have what you wanted, and I have what I wanted.” I scream in response, but the truth is that I’m trapped. There’s no going back. Fred then enters and gives a light squeeze to my enormous stomach. I yell at him to leave, and then he steps back. He closes the bathroom door, and I, still in shock and confused about what happened, am left unsure of what to do. I lift my shirt and see: a big belly, covered in hair. I also notice that my chest, which was normal before, is now larger and sagging. With every step I take, I feel my body moving in a way I’ve never felt before. It’s uncomfortable and strange. I turn around and notice that my backside has also changed; it’s now much bigger. I look in the mirror, trying to understand what has happened. The person in the reflection doesn’t seem like me, but the way the body moves makes it clear that, unfortunately, it is mine now.
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I leave the bathroom and find Fred, who is now in my body. He smiles and makes an ironic comment, asking if I’m ready. I quickly pull down my shirt and, unsure of what to do, ask, “So now what are we going to do?”
When I leave the bathroom, Fred tells me I can go to his place, which is now my home. I have no choice. Walking through the streets is hell. Every step is a huge effort. I feel sweat dripping down my body, especially between the folds of my belly and on my back. And it’s just a short walk. Upon arriving at the apartment, Fred shows me everything—where the things are, the bathroom, the pantry. During this little tour, I’m extremely out of breath from the walk. My belly bumps into everything around the house. He tells me about his routine. Now, it’s my routine. Because of the heat, I take off my clothes, and my now free belly is enormous. As I squeeze through the house, my stomach occasionally bumps into Fred, who is in my way. “Sorry,” I say, even though I’m not the one to blame for this situation; he is! He’s the one who stuck me in this huge body, but honestly, I’m too out of breath for another argument. As soon as he leaves me alone in my new room, he says, “See you tomorrow, boss,” winking before closing the door. I get ready to take a shower, which is at least strange since I’ve never had to bathe a fat old man before, let alone be the old man myself. I feel the loose skin and the weight of the fat on me. Lying down on the bed is even worse; as soon as I collapse onto the bed, my huge new belly settles against my body in an uncomfortable way, and I have to turn over, quickly causing it to fall to my side. I let out a heavy sigh. “What was I wishing for?”
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Lying on the bed, with not many options for comfort, I close my eyes, trying to believe that everything was just a nightmare and that tomorrow everything will be back to normal. But it’s hard to believe that it was just a dream, considering how real everything felt. Even lying there, I had a lot of physical contact with every part of my body, since I was now bulkier. I couldn’t just run my hand over my body without my hairy arm brushing against my hairy stomach. So, I would turn to the side, still thinking my slim body would react. But instead, I felt the weight of my new body. My brain was still that of a slim man.
I would run my hand over my forehead and remember the baldness. I would touch my face and feel the old beard. I would glide my hands over my body and notice my new bulk. It was this repetitive cycle until I finally managed to fall asleep. The next morning, when I wake up, I feel an erection, but not like it always used to be, my dick was fighting against my stomach. in a fright I quickly wake up and my eyes meet see my big stomach and the white hairs on my chest. I quickly get a shock, and suddenly everything hits me: nothing was a dream, everything was real, and this is my new lif
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lefteagleblizzard · 23 hours
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𝔉𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔳𝔬𝔦𝔡
Mike Schmidt X male reader
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For this I combined both a suggestion that I received and a request from two really nice person on tumblr.
-“Reader moving in with Mike, this contains Mike bridal carrying reader”
-“If you're willing. I was wondering about a baby making one? I know medically men can't get pregnant but that doesn't stop Mike from filling him up whenever he wants. We hardly see Male Reader and their family. Maybe they're at a gathering and his family is warm and welcoming towards Mike and Abby which is a complete contrast to his aunt. Male Reader is holding a baby from one of his cousins and Mike sees this and starts to think and even fantasize what their baby would look like and it just sets him off.”
Tags: Part 6 of this miniseries of Mike Schmidt x male reader. Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Reader moving in with Mike. Fluff. Reader holding a baby. Smut at the end. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Reader being called “good boy”. Breeding kink. Handjob (M receiving). Anal sex. NO male pregnancy.
Words count: 7000
Can also be found on wattpad and ao3
Part 1-part 2-part 3-part 4-part 5
The day had finally come. After everything the two of you had been through, you were moving in with Mike Schmidt. It felt surreal, and your heart raced at the thought of starting this new chapter together.
You stand at the doorstep of Mike's house, a series of boxes piled up around you, some heavy with your belongings, others light but carrying significant memories.
Mike stands next to you, hands stuffed into his pockets as he shifts his weight slightly, his gaze flicking toward you every few moments. He's always been quiet, never the type to rush into anything without thinking it through, and now is no different.
His posture might seem relaxed, but you know him well enough by now to see the subtle signs of his own nerves: the slight furrow in his brow, the way his lips press into a thin line, and the tension that hums through his body like a drawn bowstring.
"You ready for this?" he asks after a long moment, his voice low, almost cautious, as if he's unsure whether you'll change your mind.
You hesitate for a fraction of a second, but then you nod, giving him a small smile. "Yeah. I am."
But there's a tremor in your voice that betrays your nerves.
Mike picks up on your hesitation, and for a brief moment, he looks concerned. His hand reaches out and gently rests on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against your skin in a reassuring gesture. "Hey," he murmurs softly, "we don't have to do this if you're not sure. You don't have to rush into anything."
You shake your head, quickly dismissing the thought. "No, I want this, Mike. I want to be here... with you."
Mike's gaze softens, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. There's a vulnerability in his eyes that makes your heart ache. A part of him that's afraid you might still change your mind, that you'll decide this life with him is too complicated.
The weight of the decision you made pressed down a little harder than you had expected.
A life with Mike, with Abby, with all the struggles and responsibilities that come with it.
"It's just... new, I guess. Feels different now" you admitted, trying to shrug it off.
Before you can say anything else, Mike steps closer, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you effortlessly off the ground. You yelp in surprise, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he pulls you against his chest.
Though his previous jobs were short-lived, they left him with a physique that spoke volumes.
"Mike!" you protest, though there's no real objection in your voice. Your heart pounds in your chest, not just from the surprise of being lifted but from the way he's holding you, cradling you as if you're something precious.
He chuckles softly, his breath warm against your ear. "What? You're moving in with me. Gotta make it memorable, right?" He looks down at you, his expression playful but tender.
"Mike, you're going to destroy your back doing this," you laugh, playfully pushing against his chest. "I still need you fully intact, you know?"
He grins down at you, his eyes tired but full of that familiar teasing light. "Oh, is that so?" His voice is laced with amusement, and he shifts his grip on you, making sure you're comfortable in his arms.
"Yeah," you nod, biting back another laugh. "Who's going to deal with all the paperwork for Abby? I don't think I'm qualified."
Mike chuckles, glancing briefly toward the door before meeting your eyes again. "Well, good thing you're already taking care of me, huh?" His voice drops into a playful tone, his gaze warm yet sharp with affection.
The front door creaks open as Mike pushes it with his foot, stepping inside with you still in his arms.
You've been here so many times, but now the context is different.
Now, it's your space too.
The house smells like it always does. Coffee, faint traces of Abby's art supplies, and something distinctly Mike.
"I thought I'd show you around the place. You know, just in case you've forgotten where everything is."
You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head at his ridiculousness. "I think I can remember, thanks."
"Too late," he replied, carrying you through the front hallway. "This tour is mandatory."
He walked slowly, allowing you to enjoy the feeling of being held so close, the feeling of his chest rising and falling steadily beneath you.
"So, this is where we'll spend most of our time when Abby's not commanding our attention," he said, his voice rich with amusement. "TV, couch... you know, in case you forgot.
"I didn't forget," you said, rolling your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips.
He carried you past the kitchen. "And here's where you'll be the head chef."
"Head chef? Me?" You raised an eyebrow. "Pretty sure you're the one who does most of the cooking."
"Guess that's my way of saying I expect a few dinners from you every now and then."
The tour continued, with Mike stopping by random objects to remind you of things you didn't need reminding of. He was clearly enjoying himself.
As Mike carried you towards Abby's room, you could hear the soft hum of a pencil scratching against paper. He paused at the door, glancing down at you. "Ready to say hi?"
You nodded, feeling your heart swell as he opened the door. Inside, Abby sat at her little desk, surrounded by her favorite crayons and paper, deeply engrossed in one of her many creative projects.
When she noticed you both, she glanced up and froze for a moment, her eyes wide in mock horror. She quickly put down her crayon and scrunched up her nose.
"Ew!" she exclaimed, giggling. "Why are you carrying him like that, Mike?"
"Because he's moving in, and I'm giving him the royal treatment," Mike said, grinning.
Abby dramatically rolled her eyes, though the grin on her face betrayed her. "Gross," she teased, but you could see the amusement in her eyes, happy to see her brother smiling. "Are you gonna carry him everywhere now?"
"Maybe," Mike replied. "Depends on how much he likes it."
Abby went back to her drawing, still muttering playful disgust under her breath. "I don't get why grown-ups have to be so weird," she said, shaking her head like she was far wiser than her age.
Mike carried you effortlessly down the hallway, until he stopped at the familiar doorway that led to his bedroom—your bedroom now. His grip on you tightened just a bit, the playful smile never leaving his face as he nudged the door open with his foot.
Mike took a slow, exaggerated step into the room, still carrying you, his voice low and teasing. "And here we are... your new bedroom," he said, his grin widening as he glanced down at you. "What do you think? Fancy enough for you?"
You couldn't help but laugh softly, your head resting against his chest as you took in the space. It wasn't grand or overly elaborate, but it was Mike's room, the place you'd shared countless quiet moments together, and now it was yours too.
"Not too shabby." you teased back, though your heart swelled at the thought of this being your shared space.
Mike's lips quivered in a small, knowing smile, and he glanced toward the bed, his gaze lingering there for just a moment before returning to meet yours. He finally settled you down on your feet, but his hands lingered on your waist, keeping you close.
"Now that you're living here," he said, his voice low, almost a murmur, "there's a lot more we can do... together."
The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine. There was no mistaking the hint in his voice. You swallowed, feeling the flush of warmth creeping up your neck, but Mike didn't stop there.
He shifted closer, his body pressing lightly against yours, his hand sliding up from your waist to rest against your lower back, pulling you just a little closer, enough to feel the solid warmth of him. "Like..." he continued, his voice dropping an octave as he tilted his head slightly, "all those nights where you had to go back to your dorm. We won't have to do that anymore."
His thumb rubbed slow, teasing circles against your back, his breath warm against your cheek as he leaned in closer. "You'll be here, with me. In our bed. Every night."
The way he said it wasn't just about comfort, it was laced with desire, with a promise of something more.
"And that means," he continued, his lips brushing lightly against your ear now, "there's no reason to rush things anymore, is there?" His tone was teasing, but there was a clear, intimate edge to it. "No more sneaking around, trying to find time between your classes and Abby's naps. We can take our time... really take our time."
You shuddered slightly at his words, feeling your breath hitch in your throat as he pressed his body even closer to yours, the warmth of him wrapping around you.
Mike smirked, clearly noticing the effect he was having on you. "We'll have the whole night to ourselves," he murmured, his voice dropping even lower, rougher.
His fingers trailing along your spine, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake as they made their way up to your neck, cupping the back of your head. He leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a jolt of heat through you. "I could take my time with you. No rushing... just you and me.”
"But if it's too much for you," he said, pulling back just slightly so he could meet your eyes, a teasing glint in his gaze, "I could sleep on the couch."
You rolled your eyes, trying to shake off the heat that was pooling in your stomach.
"Mike," you started, trying to sound exasperated, but your voice came out softer than you intended.
His grin widened, clearly pleased with your reaction. "I'm serious," he said, his tone light. "If you're not ready to share the bed, I could crash on the couch. No big deal."
You laughed softly, remembering the last time he had fallen asleep on the couch while waiting for you to visit with his mouth wide open, completely knocked out.
"You probably wouldn't mind it," you teased, your cheeks still warm from his earlier words. "Considering how peaceful you looked the last time I found you there"
His face turned a slight shade of pink, and he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, God, you remember that?"
You laughed, nodding. "Yeah, I remember. I didn't have the heart to wake you up... until Abby started laughing and pointing at you."
He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at the memory. "She still teases me about that."
You grinned, leaning into him a little more. "I'm just saying, you seemed pretty comfortable."
He chuckled, his hands slipping down to rest on your hips again, pulling you flush against him. "Maybe," he said, his voice low, "but I'd much rather be comfortable here." He glanced toward the bed again, his meaning unmistakable. "With you."
Your heart skipped a beat, and the room suddenly felt smaller, more intimate. There was no more sneaking around, no more stolen moments. This was real, and it was yours.
The weight of your decision settling comfortably in your chest. Mike gives you a quick peck on the lips before the two of you start to haul the remaining boxes inside.
The evening light filters dimly through the thin curtains in Mike's room as you continue to unpack your last things, methodically folding your clothes and placing them in neat piles.
The scent of Mike's cologne lingers in the air. Every drawer you open, every corner you claim for your belongings feels like a small step toward the life you're building together.
As you place a few small keepsakes on the windowsill, trying to find just the right spot for each one, something outside catches your ear.
At first, it's just a low murmur, the sound of voices carried on the breeze, but then the tone shifts, and suddenly the voices grow louder. You pause, your hand hovering over the sill, curiosity getting the best of you.
An argument between two people
The words are indistinct at first, but there's no mistaking the sharp edges in the voices.
Before you even think about it, you find yourself crouching by the window, gently pulling the edge of the curtain aside just enough to peek through. The sliver of space allows you a glimpse of the scene outside.
Two neighbors, standing in their driveway, are engaged in what looks like a full-on shouting match. One of them, a man, is gesturing wildly, his hands flailing in the air as he yells something you can't quite make out.
The other, a woman, stands with her arms crossed, her posture rigid, and you can practically feel the tension between them, even from inside the house.
You bite your lip, trying to stifle the laugh bubbling up inside you.
This is better than reality TV.
You lean in a little closer, your breath catching as you strain to hear what they're saying.
The woman's voice comes through, shrill and unmistakably furious.
You can barely suppress the grin spreading across your face as you watch the man throw his hands up in exasperation, his voice rising to match hers.
He fires back with the same tone of the woman, telling her that he’s busy with work to deal with her constant complaining.
You snicker quietly, shaking your head in disbelief. You hunch down even lower, trying to keep yourself hidden while also desperately wanting to see how this all plays out.
The woman doesn't back down. She takes a step toward the man, her face red with anger as she yells back at him.
It's like they don't care who's listening, and you're absolutely living for it.
You didn't expect to get neighborhood gossip on your first day living here, but this? This is better than anything you could've imagined.
Her voice cuts through the evening air again, sharper than before, complaining about how he didn’t care about this family.
This poor guy, you think to yourself, imagining the years of pent-up frustration between these two. You can't help but feel a little bad for the man.
Just as you're about to settle in for more, something behind you shifts, a faint sound that barely registers.
But you're too engrossed in the scene outside to pay it any attention.
Standing in the doorway, Mike freezes for a moment, his eyes drawn to you. More specifically, his gaze locks onto your body, hunched down and perfectly arched as you peer through the small gap in the curtains. The way you're crouching, your hips tilted back, your jeans hugging every curve perfectly.
Damn. The sight of you like this is doing things to him. His eyes linger for a second longer than they should, taking in every detail.
He takes a few quiet steps forward until he is behind you, moving carefully to avoid making any noise.
Just as you're leaning in for more, your face practically pressed against the glass, you hear a soft creak behind you.
The curtains are yanked wide open instantly. Blinding light floods the room, and in a split second, your cover is completely blown.
Startled, you let out a yelp and immediately drop to the floor, sprawling out with a thud as you scramble to hide yourself.
"Mike!" you hiss, half-laughing and half-panicking as you clutch at the floor, trying to make yourself as invisible as possible. You can feel your face burning with embarrassment, but the ridiculousness of the situation only makes you laugh harder.
"What the hell?"
Mike's laughter fills the room, rich and amused as he stands over you. "You're unbelievable," he says, shaking his head, his voice filled with teasing affection. "Spying on the neighbors already? You've barely been here an hour."
You push yourself up slightly, still on the floor, and glare at him through your laughter. "I wasn't spying!" you protest, though the grin on your face makes it impossible to take yourself seriously. "It's not my fault they're having a full-on soap opera out there"
"I don't know what you were more focused on, what was happening outside or the fact that you were putting on a hell of a show for me." he says, his voice teasing as he raises an eyebrow
You blink, momentarily caught off guard by his words. "What are you-" But then it hits you, and your face flushes an even deeper shade of red. "Oh my God, Mike!" you exclaim, your embarrassment mixing with laughter as you finally push yourself up from the floor.
"Hey, I'm just saying. You were in a very... interesting position there."
You shake your head, still grinning as you playfully shove him in the chest. "You're terrible.”
"Am I?" Mike grins back, not the least bit apologetic. "You're the one spying on the neighbors."
"I wasn't spying!" you say again, though you can't help but smile at how ridiculous the whole thing is, taking a seat on the bed as you tried to control your laughter. "It’s like... catching up. I need to know what's going on. Gotta stay informed now that I live here again"
Mike chuckles and shakes his head, dropping down to sit next to you on the bed. "Well, if you're gonna live here, you'll definitely get to know the neighbors. Just maybe not like that."
You rest your head against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body against yours as the two of you fall together on his bed—now your bed—and lay there, staring at the poster about Nebraska that he had.
"I think I'm going to like it here."
Mike presses a kiss to your forehead at hearing this.
The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the yard as you stood by the garbage bins, carefully arranging the last of the empty cardboard boxes.
You wiped a bit of sweat from your forehead, feeling the heat from the long day of activity weighing on you. Moving in had been more exhausting than you expected, especially with all the little details like fitting things into their places, deciding what should stay and what could be packed away for later.
Behind you, Mike was bringing out the last of the boxes, his sleeves rolled up and his hair slightly disheveled from the day's work. You didn't notice him at first, too busy focusing on fitting the flattened boxes together to make room in the bin.
But Mike noticed you, how you looked, standing there with your shirt clinging to your back, sweat running in small rivulets down your neck. He couldn't help but steal a few glances, his eyes drawn to the way the muscles in your arms flexed as you worked, the way your hair stuck messily to your forehead.
You looked good. More than good, really, and he felt that familiar warmth stir in his chest.
You were still focused on arranging the boxes, trying to make sure they fit just right. "I swear these things multiply," you muttered under your breath, unaware that Mike had been watching you for the past few moments.
He stepped closer, his gaze flicking from the pile of boxes to the sheen of sweat on your skin, unable to stop himself from appreciating how effortlessly attractive you looked.
"You need a hand with that?" he asked, his tone low and casual.
You turned your head slightly, offering him a small grin. "Yeah, if you're done staring”
He chuckled, stepping closer until he was right behind you. "Can't help it," he murmured, the warmth of his breath brushing against your ear. "You're kinda distracting like this."
You laughed softly, shaking your head as you finished the task at hand. "Just trying to make sure we don't drown in empty boxes."
Mike took that as his moment. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you gently against his chest. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses to your damp skin.
You laughed softly, the feeling of his scruffy chin against your neck tickling you.
"Mike," you chuckled, tilting your head to the side to give him better access. "I'm all sweaty."
"Don't care," he murmured between kisses, his voice low and slightly rough.
You leaned back into him, letting his arms tighten around your waist. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, and it made your heart race in the best way. Turning around in his grip, you wrapped your arms around his neck, gazing at him with a teasing smile.
"You're making it hard to finish," you said in a half-hearted protest. He kissed the side of your neck, soft and lingering, his stubble tickling your skin in the best way as you tilted your head to give him more access.
Mike chuckled, his lips brushing against your cheek as he kissed his way up to the corner of your jaw. "You've worked hard enough for one day," he said, his voice low and affectionate. "Let me distract you a little."
Your fingers idly playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, "I was thinking of heading over to say hi to my parents real quick. They know I moved in today, and I figured I should check in."
Mike's expression shifted, a mix of curiosity and interest. "You want company?" he asked, his tone genuine, like he didn't want to seem disinterested in your personal life. "I mean, it could be a good chance for Abby to meet some new people."
You blinked in surprise, not expecting the offer but appreciating it all the same. It was a thoughtful gesture, one that made you realize how much Mike cared about making this work. Not just between the two of you, but for Abby as well.
You smiled brightly and nodded.
"Yeah," you said, your voice soft but filled with excitement. "Yeah, I'd love that. I think they'd love to meet you both."
A small, affectionate smile tugged at the corner of Mike's lips as he pulled you a little closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. "Let's go, then," he said.
The drive to your parents' house was short, and before you knew it, you were pulling into the familiar driveway, Abby chattering excitedly in the back seat about meeting new friends. You smiled at her enthusiasm, glancing over at Mike as he parked the car, his expression relaxed but with a hint of nerves that only you could really see.
As you stepped out of the car, the familiar scent of home hit you. You hadn't been home in a little while, and the sight of your parents' house and the distant sound of kids running and having fun brought back a flood of memories
"Ready?" you asked, glancing over at Mike as he unbuckled Abby from her car seat.
He gave you a small, reassuring smile. "Yeah. Let's do this."
As you walked up the driveway with Abby skipping excitedly beside you, the front door opened to reveal your parents standing on the porch, their faces lit up with wide smiles.
Your mom was the first to rush forward, pulling you into a warm hug and exclaiming how great you looked.
You laughed, feeling a little flustered but happy to be there, and mentioned that you had just moved in today with Mike’s help.
Mike, who had been standing a few steps behind, smiled and nodded as your parents turned their attention to him. Your dad extended a hand, which Mike shook warmly, acknowledging that they had heard a lot about him.
Mike responded with a smile, his hand resting lightly on Abby’s shoulder
Your mom’s eyes softened as she glanced down at Abby, crouching slightly to be on her level. She gently introduced herself to Abby, who grinned shyly and hid behind Mike’s leg for a moment before peeking out to say a small but happy greeting. She reached out her hand, inviting everyone inside and mentioning that there were some snacks waiting.
Abby's eyes lit up, and she nodded eagerly, following your mom into the house, Mike and your dad exchanging small talk as they trailed behind.
You felt a sense of warmth flood your chest.
This was good.
This was the kind of welcome you'd hoped for.
Your parents' warmth and acceptance made you feel relieved, and you could see Mike visibly relax as they welcomed him and Abby with open arms.
Inside, the sounds of laughter and conversations from your relatives floated through the air as you made your way into the living room while you hugged all of them one by one.
You found yourself with Mike and your parents soon, the conversation flowing easily as they asked about your move and how things were going between the two of you.
Things went downhill, however, when they started to give advice for your relationship based on their own experiences.
You grimaced, already feeling the heat rising to your face. "Dad, come on," you mumbled, glancing sideways at Mike, who looked slightly amused but remained silent, one arm around your waist and the other hand tucked into his pocket.
But your father continued, undeterred by your embarrassment. Living together is a big step, and it was important for them that you communicate, keep each other in mind and, of course, take care of each other.
You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your discomfort, but it was no use. You could already feel your face heating up as the conversation took a turn for the worse.
The last thing you expected, to your horror, was your father leaning in closer, as if sharing some grand secret. He reminded you, with an air of solemnity, that even though pregnancy wasn’t a concern, protection was still something to think about. The embarrassment washed over you, making you wish the ground would swallow you whole.
"Dad!" you groaned, feeling a wave of mortification wash over you. You buried your face in Mike’s neck, not daring to look at your parents at that moment.
Mike's body shook with laughter beside you, the deep rumble of his chuckles making your face burn even hotter.
He wasn't helping, not in the slightest.
His arm around your waist tightened, pulling you closer, while his other hand stayed casually tucked in his pocket. You could feel his chest vibrating as he laughed, clearly entertained by your parents' well-meaning but mortifying advice.
"Hey, they're just looking out for you," Mike teased, his voice filled with amusement as he tilted his head slightly to brush his lips against your temple. "Can't fault them for that." you could still hear the quiet laughter in his voice as he spoke.
You groaned again as Mike's words only seemed to encourage your parents. "Mike," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper, "you're not supposed to encourage them."
Your parents, oblivious to your discomfort, or maybe just enjoying it a little too much, laughed along with Mike.
It was clear that your family adored Mike, and the warmth of the moment settled deep in your chest, filling you with a sense of comfort.
The conversation eventually shifted to other topics, but the lingering embarrassment stayed with you for a while. Mike kept his arm around you the entire time, occasionally squeezing your waist or brushing his fingers against your side in a subtle show of comfort.
Later, you wandered over to where Abby was. She was bonding with the other kids while one of your cousins, who was sitting on the couch with her baby in her arms, was keeping an eye on them. She smiled at you when she saw you coming, a tired but happy expression on her face.
"Hey," she said, "do you mind holding him for a minute while I make something to eat for him?"
You blinked, surprised but happy to oblige. "Sure, I'd love to."
As she handed the baby over to you, you felt the warm weight of his little body in your arms. He was tiny, soft, and so incredibly fragile-looking, with big, wide eyes that sparkled with curiosity.
You instinctively began to sway back and forth, cradling him close. The soft sounds of his little gurgles made you smile, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how perfect he was. His skin was so smooth and his hair, though sparse, was as soft as down feathers.
“Hey there,” you cooed softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you ran your thumb gently over his chubby cheek.
He turned his head towards your touch, his big eyes locking onto yours with intensity.
The baby cooed softly, his little mouth forming an 'O' shape as he gurgled in delight. His chubby cheeks were slightly flushed, and his toothless grin made your heart swell with warmth. You couldn't resist running your thumb across his round face, gently tracing the soft skin of his cheek, marveling at how perfect he was. His little nose scrunched up in response to your touch, and he let out a tiny giggle, his toothless smile growing even wider.
"Hey, little guy," you whispered, your voice soft as you bounced him slightly in your arms. The baby responded with another gurgle, his fingers clenching and unclenching as he latched onto your shirt with surprising strength for someone so small. His eyes, bright and full of wonder, locked onto yours, and you couldn't help but feel a connection.
You rocked him gently, cradling him closer to your chest, and as you did, he let out a contented sigh, nestling into the crook of your arm as though he had found the safest place in the world. His small, soft fingers wrapped around one of yours.
The warmth of his tiny body against yours made you feel protective.
You continued to sway, humming a soft tune that seemed to calm him even more. His eyelids grew heavy, and you watched as he fought to keep them open, his curiosity battling with the need for sleep.
“You’re so adorable,” you whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on his forehead.
Across the room, Mike watched you with a kind of quiet intensity, his attention fully on you. The sight of you holding the baby, the way you cradled him so carefully, the soft expression on your face...
It hit something deep inside him.
Mike's heart thudded heavily in his chest, and before he could stop himself, his mind began to wander. He pictures you holding your baby—his baby. The thought sends a wave of emotion crashing through him, and he can't help but let his mind run wild.
What would your child together look like? Would they have your eyes? His dark hair? He pictured it so clearly: you, standing in your shared home, holding a child that was the perfect blend of both of you. Maybe with your eyes and his smile, or your laugh and his nose. He swallows hard, the fantasy setting him off in a way he hadn't expected.
You remain blissfully unaware, still cuddling the baby, gently bouncing him as he giggles in your arms. But Mike can't look away. He's utterly captivated by the sight of you, by the thought of what could be. He's head over heels for you, and in this moment, watching you hold that baby, he knows without a doubt that he wants to share a future with you.
The thought of you being filled with his baby, of sharing that kind of deep, intimate connection, lingers in his mind. The impossibility of it makes the longing more potent. And even though it can't happen, it doesn't stop the primal instinct inside him from craving that kind of closeness with you.
He imagines being with you, pressing himself against you, of filling you up until you were full of him, of having that closeness over and over again.
Those nights where he held you tight, feeling the warmth of your body beneath him, knowing that you're his. There's a primal satisfaction in the act itself, in knowing that you want it just as much as he does.
Mike swallowed hard, trying to rein in the wave of desire that washed over him.
Later, when your cousin returned to take the baby, Mike found his way over to you, slipping an arm around your waist as he pulled you close. His touch was warm, possessive, and there was something in the way he held you that made you look at him, curious.
You leaned into him without a second thought, resting your head against his shoulder.
"You good?" you asked, glancing up at him with a small, curious smile as you noticed the slight tension in his body.
Mike met your gaze and he smiled, a slow, affectionate smile that made your heart skip a beat.
"Yeah," he said quietly, his voice rougher than usual. "Just... thinking."
The rest of the evening passed in a blur, but Mike never strayed far from you, his hand always resting on your lower back, his touch more possessive than usual. And though you didn't fully understand what was going on in his head, you were just glad to have him here with you.
The drive home had been quiet, peaceful even, with Abby fast asleep in the backseat, exhausted from the day. You and Mike didn't need to fill the silence with words; the weight of everything that had happened at your family's gathering hung comfortably between you, a shared understanding of how significant the day had been.
When you got back to Mike's house, Abby barely stirred as Mike carried her upstairs to bed, whispering soft reassurances as he tucked her in. You watched from the doorway, feeling the tightness in your chest. The good kind, the kind that only swelled when you saw how gently Mike cared for his sister.
By the time Mike came back downstairs, the tiredness from the day had settled into your bones, the heat of it still lingering on your skin. "I'm going to take a quick shower before bed," you said, running a hand through your hair. "Still feeling a bit gross from earlier."
Mike smiled, his eyes warm and soft as he brushed his hand lightly against your back. "Go ahead," he said, his voice low and affectionate.
The door clicked softly behind you as you stepped into the bathroom, the sound of the water starting to run filling the space around you. The warm spray of the shower enveloped you almost immediately, steam rising quickly, soothing the ache in your muscles from the long day.
You closed your eyes, letting the water cascade over you, washing away the exhaustion, leaving behind only a sense of deep contentment.
Your mind wandered back to the gathering, the easy laughter of your family, the warmth of the day, and how Mike had fit so perfectly into all of it. The memory of him standing beside you, holding you close as your parents offered their well-meaning advice, made you smile. You could still feel the pressure of his arm around your waist, the reassuring squeeze he'd given you as he'd chuckled at your embarrassment.
You hadn't expected it to feel so natural, but it had. Being with Mike, living with him, sharing these moments together, it was everything you hadn't known you'd needed.
The water did wonders for your tired muscles. Your skin still feels tender and fresh as the droplets trail down your back, and a light mist still hangs in the bathroom air.
Wrapping a towel securely around your waist, you glance down at your bare feet as you mentally kick yourself for forgetting to grab clothes. You check Abby's door, finding it firmly closed, and silently thank your lucky stars before you sneak into Mike's room.
You had expected to find Mike waiting for you, but the room is quiet, dim, and still. You shuffle quietly, hoping not to disturb Abby or alert Mike that you're padding around in nothing but a towel. Your mind is already preoccupied with finding your clothes, wondering where you stuffed them after the chaos of moving in.
You drop to your knees, carefully shifting through a half-unpacked box, fingers grazing over familiar fabric, but nothing quite what you're looking for.
You don't hear Mike step into the room behind you and before you know it, his hands reach out and grips your shoulders. He pulls you back gently, catching you off-guard as he hauls you from your crouched position to your feet, your back meeting his chest.
"You know," Mike murmurs into your ear, his breath brushing against your neck, "I'm starting to think this is going to be a thing. Every time I walk into a room, I find you bent down, doing something."
You laugh softly, your heart fluttering at the feeling of his hands on you, but you don't pull away. "I was just looking for something to wear," you reply, leaning back to rest against him. "You'd be amazed how great it feels to finally take a shower without a line of impatient people waiting outside the door."
Mike hums in response, his grip on your waist tightening slightly, his thumb brushing lazily over the towel where it's wrapped around you. "Yeah? Sounds like you're really settling in."
You nod, smiling to yourself. "Yeah, Feels nice to have some space that's just ours."
Mike's chest swells with warmth at your words. For so long, Mike has been stuck in survival mode. Working hard to care for Abby, fighting his aunt, dealing with everything that life throws at him.
But now, here you are, someone who's not just a temporary fixture but a permanent part of his world. Someone who's making this house feel like a home.
"Next time you take a shower," he murmurs, his voice soft but suggestive, "maybe I'll join you... you know, to save on water bills."
You roll your eyes, laughing softly, but there's a flutter of excitement beneath your breath. You know what he means, the playful tone in his voice impossible to miss. "Very responsible of you," you say, turning in his grip so that you're facing him now, your hands resting lightly against his chest.
Mike smirks, his gaze dipping down to the towel still clinging loosely around your hips. "You need help finding something to wear?" he teases, though his eyes are filled with something darker, something more primal.
You blush slightly under his gaze, but you play along, your fingers idly tracing patterns on his chest. "Actually, yeah," you say, your voice soft and playful. "Do you have any idea where I put my comfortable clothes?"
Mike shrugs, his grin widening. "I dunno... but I'm not complaining if you don't find them."
You turn to face him fully, your cheeks heating up at his words. "Oh really?" you ask, trying to match his playful tone. "You'd be okay with that?"
Your heart races in your chest as you bite your lip, your fingers tugging at the knot holding your towel in place. Mike's eyes follow the movement, and when the towel falls away, pooling at your feet, you hear him let out a quiet, surprised laugh, the sound filled with admiration and a hint of disbelief.
His hands immediately finding your bare skin, tracing the familiar lines of your body as if he's memorizing you all over again. His fingers are gentle but firm and, at first, everything was innocent enough.
Just the two of you staring at each others in a loving gaze. Quiet conversations about the day, the warmth of his body against your skin.
Mike's hands moved casually at first.
He started off slow, his hands sliding over your back, his fingers grazing the lines of your muscles. His hands became more deliberate, more confident, as they moved down your sides, feeling the heat of your skin under his fingertips.
His lips graze the side of your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, and you can feel the heat of his body pressed against yours.
You steady yourself against the cold wall, the surface cool beneath your hands, while his lips continue their path along your neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses against the sensitive skin.
His hand moves almost unconsciously, tracing the line of your waist before resting against your bare skin. His thumb moves in slow, lazy circles, the motion intimate but unhurried. He leans down slightly, his lips brushing against your ear.
"You look so good like this," he murmured, his voice low and rough, filled with a quiet intensity. "My sweet boy..."
The words sent a surge of heat through your body, and you couldn't hold back the soft moan that escaped your lips. You leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder as his hands explored your body, tracing slow, deliberate lines down your chest and stomach. The sensation was overwhelming, and you felt yourself growing harder under his touch.
His hands eventually drifted lower, and you gasped softly as he wrapped one hand around your growing erection. He stroked you slowly at first, his grip firm, his breath hot against your neck. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure through your body, your legs threatening to give out under the intensity of it all.
"Mike..." you gasped, your voice trembling as his pace quickened slightly
He loves seeing you like this, completely undone by his touch, by the connection between you.
You're perfect. You're everything he never thought he'd have, everything he didn't even realize he wanted until now. And as he strokes you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, all he can think about is how much he wants to thank you for being here, for being his.
The kiss that follows is soft at first, innocent. Just the two of you sharing the warmth of each other's presence.
His need for you is growing with every passing second. His tongue slips into your mouth, teasing and exploring.
He's still fully clothed, the hardness in his jeans rubbing against your bare skin. His hands squeeze your ass, pulling you closer as he grinds his hips against you, a grunt rumbling from the back of his throat. The tiredness from the long day adds a roughness to his movements.
His thoughts, though, are anything but tired. They're racing, filled with images of you from earlier today, holding that baby in your arms, cradling him so gently, so perfectly. He can't stop thinking about it, about how natural you looked, how soft and loving you were.
The image of you with his child has been stuck in his mind all day, and he can't shake it. The thought of leaving a part of himself inside you has been driving him wild ever since.
His hands slid deeper, his fingers brushing against your entrance, making you shudder in response. He teased you, his breath hot against your ear as he pressed a little harder, pushing just enough to make you gasp and buck against him. "You want this, don't you?" he whispered, his voice low and full of need. "Tell me you want me."
You could only manage a shaky nod, your breath catching in your throat as his fingers moved in slow, torturous circles.
Then, he turned you around so that you were facing him.
His lips crashed into yours with a hunger that left you dizzy, his hands gripping your butt with enough force to leave marks.
The kiss was desperate, full of raw need and passion, and you could feel the tension in his body as he pressed himself against you. His fingers dug into your skin as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth and you found yourself melting into him, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.
He pulls you to the bed, unable to wait any longer. He doesn't even bother undressing, too desperate to feel you, to be inside you
Mike's breathing grows heavier, his lips grazing your ear as he whispers something low and unintelligible. His hands slide lower still, resting on your thighs before he gently urges you to widen your stance. You comply without hesitation, knowing exactly where this is going, and the anticipation coils tighter inside you, your heart pounding in your chest.
His fingers slip between your legs, moving slowly at first, easing you into the sensation. Each stroke is careful, deliberate, as if he's savoring every second, drawing out the pleasure with practiced ease.
You took a right hold of the sheets to brace yourself as his fingers work deeper, prepping you with a slow, steady rhythm. His other hand slides up your back, caressing your skin as he presses closer, his breath warm against your neck as he leans in.
Mike's fingers move with increasing confidence, the steady pressure and rhythm sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body as his fingers stretch and prepare you, ensuring you're ready for what's to come.
He took his time, making sure you were comfortable, that you were ready, before he added a second finger, then a third, each one stretching you further.
You could feel every nerve in your body alight with pleasure.
His lips move to your neck, kissing and biting softly as he preps you with care. His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. He pictures you in his bed every night, in his arms every morning.
"Mike," you whisper, your voice breathless, filled with need. "Please...I want to feel you now."
Mike let out a low, approving growl, clearly pleased by your words. The sight of you, flushed and wanting, drives him wild, and he can't hold back any longer.
His hands fly quickly to unzip his jeans and free himself, the head of his length nudging at your entrance. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he pushes forward, sinking into you inch by inch. The sensation is overwhelming, your body stretching to accommodate him as he fills you completely. The pressure is intense, but there's a delicious heat that spreads through you, making you gasp as he bottoms out inside you.
Mike groans softly, his forehead resting against the back of your neck as he stills for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of him. His mind flooded with thoughts of how perfect this is, how perfect you are.
Slowly, Mike begins to move, his thrusts deep and steady, each one sending waves of pleasure through your body. You can feel the tension coiling tight in your core, your body responding to him with an urgency that makes your mind go blank. All you can focus on is the sensation of him moving inside you, the way his hands hold you, the way his breath sounds as he presses himself deeper into you.
As he began to pick up the pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate.
His breath came in ragged gasps as he buried himself inside you, again and again, each movement sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. His lips found yours once more, kissing you hungrily as his pace quickened, the desperation in his movements unmistakable.
You moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled by the intensity of the kiss, your body arching into his as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level.
His hands slid up your sides, his fingers digging into your skin as he pushed deeper, his body moving with a rhythm that left you breathless.
The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mingling with your quiet gasps and his low groans. The heat is unbearable now, the need to claim you overwhelming every other thought in his mind.
And then, finally, he feels it. The tension snapping, the pleasure cresting as he reaches his release. His hands grip your hips tightly as he thrusts into you one last time, burying himself deep inside you as he spills himself into you, the sensation making his whole body tremble.
As the pleasure slowly ebbs away, Mike's grip on you softens, his breath still coming in heavy pants as he pulls you back against him. He presses soft kisses on your collarbone, his hands tracing gentle patterns on your skin as he holds you close.
You're his partner, his home, his future.
Note: If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.
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amalg-em · 8 months
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Tbh when it comes down to it I'm just incredibly lonely. Having a domestic partner doesn't change that when you throw in multiple disabilities and poverty. It doesn't matter to loneliness if you live with someone if that person is usually unavailable. Nor does the existence of "friends" mean anything if those people are only around for the rare shared activity or meal.
The absence of loneliness requires regular shared time, vulnerability, shared struggle, and some degree of intimacy (it can be emotional, platonic, whatever). At least for me. And none of those things are available to me. Some of it is being in my 30s and only knowing people who are always busy. Some of it is being neurodivergent and the trauma that comes with that that's taught me not to dare to ask for anything because the moment I do I'll be cut off. Some of it is being a fat transmasc, because even among fellow queers the intersection of unattractive + masculine means I lack value in other people's eyes.
But honestly it doesn't matter who well you can break it down into factors, because at the end of the day none of these things are going to change. I can't go back to the performance of gender I had before I knew what I was. I can't undo the trauma that I've experienced that taught me to shut up and keep my head down to avoid getting hurt. I can't give people less busy lives with more time for joy in them, nor can I change the fact that when they do have time I'm not enough of a priority to spend it on.
It's going to keep being how it is now, and I'm just going to have to learn to accept that, but I hate it and I don't want to.
#And it breaks my heart honestly#These next 6-8 months before I get top surgery are the freest I'm going to be for decades#Almost none of my responsibilities are scheduled and I can work when I want to#I have energy and focus#And I want to be spending time with people. I really do#But the people I want to be spending time with just aren't available#They have jobs and responsibilities that can't be moved around#And what little free time they do get is not time they want to be spending with me#I'm. Just not a priority.#And I never going to get this time back#Once top surgery is done it's back to work for me#And while K will be able to work less and take some of the domestic burden#That's dependant on her health being stabilized and she still hasn't seen a doctor#So more likely I will be juggling being the main income earner as well as the one handling the domestic stuff#While also providing care for her disability#That's not going to leave any time for fun. Much less strengthening existing relationships#And even my relationship with K is going to be weakened because I'm going to be doing all of the work and working opposite schedule probably#So... It's only going to get more lonely from here#And some of this is the depression talking but I don't want to do it. I don't want to go through life like this#Always pouring from an empty cup into other people and never getting to recharge#I'm so tired of it. I'm so tired of being lonely and I just want to stop.#But I made commitments so now I have to keep going#No matter how much it hurts
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huh-i-guess · 5 days
Text
Fever
(Task force 141 x F!reader)
Summary: While out on a mission you are injected with a substance that might lead to a shift in the dynamics between the 141.
Warnings: SMUT 18+, sex pollen, fingering, dub-con/non-con (under the influence of sex pollen), choking, nasty Simon, Gaz has morals
Word Count: ~ 4.2k
(Reader's callsign is Pepper)
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I don't own MW2, the characters, or the gif above.
“What the fuck was that?” You shouted as you felt a sharp pricking sensation on your left ass cheek. You reached behind you to feel what was causing the sensation and groaned as you felt a syringe protruding from your behind. You looked down and noted that you had stepped on a pressure plate of some kind and triggered the laboratory’s defense mechanism.
“Oh fuck, lass.” Johnny mumbled.
“Shit, Pepper.” Gaz exclaimed in disbelief.
“No fucking way. Why does this shit always happen to me?” You yanked the dart-like needle from your behind and examined the leftover contents. The remaining contents appeared to be a blue syrup-like fluid. You sighed and pocketed the syringe hoping you could take it back to base to have it examined by the scientists at the lab. 
“Pepper, what was that?” Price called over the comms hearing the distress in everyone’s voices. Your thoughts ran at a mile a minute as you tried to figure out if you should tell your captain, that you probably had a mild crush on and always wanted to impress, that you just stepped on a trap. Or if you should lie. You hated lying to Price. It felt like you were letting him down and any time you did, you found yourself immediately retracting your statement and telling him the truth hoping he’d forgive your indiscretion. You readied your mouth to let out some kind of answer but snapped your mouth shut as you heard Gaz from your right side, “Looks like they tranqed Pepper or something. We were sweeping the lab and she was the first one in.” You turned your head toward Gaz and offered him a look that was a mix of thankfulness and regret. 
“Shite. You're still standing, lieutenant?” Price probed in a tone that, only those close to him could tell, was full of doubt and concern.
“Yes sir.” You pushed further into the lab taking extra care where your steps landed. The lab had been recently abandoned by russian terrorists working on some kind of bioweapon. You could only hope that you didn’t just get dosed with whatever they were concocting. As the three of you pressed further into the dingy lab you felt like the mass of your body was slowly doubling. 
“Soap. Gaz. If I drop, I need two to keep moving. We need to get this intel out of here as soon as we find it.” You could faintly hear the heavy footsteps of the terrorists behind you.
“No way in hell we’re leaving you behind.” Gaz contended. 
“Listen I-” 
You were quickly interrupted by Laswell’s voice in your ear, “Pepper. Evac will get to you and the boys in 11 minutes. It’ll be 2 clicks north of your current location. We’ll get you to the safe house from there.” 
“Copy.” You replied as Soap took a step closer and fixed his mouth to ready a response to your order. 
“Lass I don-”
“Listen. We don't have time for this. I don’t know what I got hit with but I know that at the moment we have a job to do. Let’s keep moving while I can and clear the files we came for. You will keep moving if I drop and that’s final. This mission can't be a waste of time.” You were met with an apprehensive “Yes Ma’am” and a “got it LT” and you snapped your head around to continue sweeping the lab. 
You knew you were being harsh but if you gave them room to argue you’d be stuck here going back and forth with them about it. Truthfully it was a ruse to make it look like you weren’t basically shitting bricks. You couldn’t stop the thoughts that flew through your mind.  I’m going to die today. Holy fuck I’m not making it out of this. I don’t know what I got hit with. How long do I have? You didn’t have much going on in your home life so the thought of a family didn’t even cross your mind until you thought about who around you did have one. Soap had his sisters back in Scotland that loved to “force” him to watch those really crappy rom-coms that he claimed he hated so much but then recommended for team bonding nights. Then you had Gaz who had his mom waiting at home for him. She always sent him care packages with little hand written notes that gave him updates on the status of his neighbors’ cat who had slowly been making itself comfortable on their property back in London. She even sent him photos of the cheeky little tuxedo cat. Your mind shifted from thoughts about yourself to thoughts about them. I have to get these boys out of here. They have so much going for them. They really are some of the best we have to offer. I can’t let them down. If I can't get out of here at least they can. 
Gaz went to the computer and plugged in a decryption device and began to sift through the scientist's digital files while Soap went through some of the scattered papers left in the room.
“They were in such a rush to get out of here they weren’t even effective at scrubbing their drives. Pep, I think I might have something.” You walked to the computer Gaz was stationed at and noticed a folder titled “Project Vitality”. 
“Good job, Gaz get it and we go. Soap anything?”
“A couple of poorly redacted files with the same name.” Soap chipped from your left. You made your way to him and patted his shoulder in praise.
“Alright we gotta move.” You heard the footsteps boom as the incoming enemies approached. You felt yourself slowly start to stall and noticed you had a difficult time focusing your eyes. It was like you were wearing a pair of glasses that weren’t meant for you and you couldn’t take them off. You willed your eyes to focus but it was becoming a hassle. Fuck me. You turned your head to Soap on your left and said, “Soap I need you to take point on the way out. I'll watch our backs as we exit.”
“Are you-” he started then pressed out a short, “Will do.” The look on his face was filled with so much concern, that for his sake, you almost wanted him to ask you if you were okay. He turned and rushed out of the room followed by Gaz and you at the back. The three of you navigated the winding corridors of the combatant base and made your way back, passing the rooms you had previously cleared. 
“Pepper. How we doing?” Price questioned over comms.
“Got the documents and drives, sir.”
“I know you did. That’s not what I’m asking about.”
“What kind of answer do you want, Cap?
“You know what I want to hear.” You knew Price wanted the truth but you couldn't let him know the fact that you might be starting to lose motor function and that the mass of your body felt like it had doubled. There was a large part of you that wanted to make him proud and craved his approval so the thought of disappointing him always stirred something deep inside you. But then there was Gaz and Soap. They were your sergeants and they often looked to you for guidance. The image they had of you rarely faltered from confidence and strength. They were right by your side and were clearly worried for you. If you told the truth to them they probably want to stop and question your status or maybe even try to do some kind of makeshift field evaluation on you and you’d definitely lose out on valuable time. 
A shaky, “I’m doing just fine, sir.” fell from your lips then silence. A sigh from Price that was then followed by a gruff, “Bring it in safe. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Of course sir.” You acknowledged. He knew you were lying. The slight tremor in your voice told him exactly what he needed to know. 
Soap led the three of you out of the compound but not without running into a couple of the remaining terrorists that missed your group upon arrival. You, although struggling to see and move, caught the slight movement as you three made your way to the entrance of the compound. A brown jacket sleeve that moved just a bit too slow was all you needed to gather that the combatants had reached your location. Years of intense practice and strenuous training had you firing your weapon with a practiced precision that was barely impacted by your declining physical state. 
As soon as you exited the compound you were met with a glaring brightness from the snow of the siberian tundra. The almost blinding whiteness was a massive contrast to the dimly lit compound so the massive shift in intensity had your head spinning. Gaz noticed you stumbling but only met you with a face of concern and a hand on your shoulder as he watched you struggle to get your bearings. 
Trekking through the Siberian tundra in your worsening condition was one of the hardest things you'd had to do in your career. The whirling of the wind was so intense that it felt like someone was screaming directly next to your ear and the pressure of it was enough to make your head pound. The snow was coming down so hard that each snowflake that hit your face felt like a tiny pin prick over and over again. Your feet were so deep in the snow that it felt like you were gaining an extra 20 pounds of weight with the effects of the drug starting to control your movements. You tried to pull yourself together. It was undeniable at this point that you would not be winning the battle against whatever medication they injected you with.
“2 minutes till evac” Ghost chimed in your earpiece. Your hearing was so sensitive that you could almost feel the loud mechanical static and the whirl of the helicopter in the background of his response.
“Oh my days. Ghost is the one flying us out? I don’t want to end up out the bloody chopper again” Gaz groaned. Oh. I wasn’t the only one to hear the helicopter then. 
“It was either me or you freeze out there, Sergeant.”
“LT, if you fly that thing the way you drive, Gaz might be better staying down here. Less chance of him getting thrown from the bloody thing.” Soap chirped. 
The world slowly started to look like a mass of colors and shapes with no definite beginning or end. The only thing you could do at this point was push and pray that you were gonna have enough strength to make it to the evac point. Everything was so intense that overwhelming wasn't even the right word to describe the feeling. You struggled to pick up your head as you began to hear another distinct whooshing sound that could only belong to that of a Puma HC2.
“I’m here aren’t I?” Soap and Gaz stopped moving as Ghost put the helicopter on the ground. 
“I’m glad you are sir. Good to see you, Ghost.” Soapsaid as he flung the door open and made his way on the aircraft.
“Always good to see that ugly mug of yours, Johnny.” Ghost turned his head to get a good look at everyone. “ Pepper, you don't look too hot.” Ghost concluded as you dragged yourself into the seat next to what you could have only imagined was Gaz. The words that came out of your mouth were something along the lines of “Not” and “Good” but no one really understood you with how slurred your response was. They did however understand that something was really wrong when your body slumped backward and went limp next to Gaz. You could vaguely hear the commotion of Gaz, Soap, and Simon, around you as they shouted your name and desperately tried to keep you from slipping out of consciousness. The last thing you heard was Price pressing to be informed on your state and him telling Ghost to get all of you to the safe house. 
---
“A neurotoxin that sends the body into overdrive. Increases nervous sensitivity and impulsivity, and impairs functionality of the prefrontal cortex and hippocampus.” Price read from the lab report with a stubby cigar in hand.
“Why the hell would they want to make something like that?” Gaz questions.
“Apparently in small doses it can be used as an aphrodisiac that it increases blood flow throughout the body, promotes sexual stamina, and increases pleasure outcomes? They must’ve been trying to develop something to sell on the streets.” Price continues.
“Right so they dosed her with super viagra?” Soap questioned. 
“That's what it sounds like?” Gaz said. 
“I thought that stuff didn't work on women?” Simon interjected. 
“It looks like they’ve altered it so it impacts both sexes but they haven’t been able to work out the less desirable symptoms. Tachycardia, fever, headache, dizziness, loss of consciousness, heart failure, and death.” Price paced as he read the outcomes. 
“Oh shit.”
“Heart failure? Death? How do we make sure that that doesn’t happen?” Gaz frantically questioned.
“The only way the toxin can be expelled from the body is through coitus…” Price trailed off as he dropped his cigar into a bowl. That can’t be right. He read it three times just to be sure and the words on the page didn’t change. 
“Steamin’ Jesus.” Soap deadpanned.
“No blood way.” Gaz stood with an open mouth. 
“Someone has to fuck her.” Simon said. 
---
When you awoke, you noticed you were lying on a firm mattress and were surrounded by the smell of smoke laced with a heavy sweetness that only came from Price’s cigars. You felt undeniably cold and couldn’t help but to shiver. You rubbed your fingers across your palms and felt them drenched in sweat. As you slowly began to turn to your side, you were overwhelmed with the feeling of the rough sheet that laid under you. 
“What the fuck?” You noticed that you had been stripped out of your vest and snow gear and were left in your black polyester thermals. You could feel every inch of fabric that you wore and immediately moved to take off the thermals. You were left in your sports bra and underwear.  Why am I taking off my clothes? I’m freezing? You ran your hands up and down your body trying to get a semblance of warmth but then decided that putting thermals back on would be too much for your unusually sensitive skin. As you dragged your hand down the sides of your thighs you couldn't help but notice how good it felt to touch yourself. You moved your hands to your inner thighs and couldn’t contain the moan that slipped from your mouth. You brushed your hand over the gusset of your panties and whined at the feel of your hand gliding over your already sensitive clit. 
“Pepper?” rushed out of Gaz’s mouth as he entered the room. He looked over to the pile of thermals on the end of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he probed.  When did Gaz get so attractive? He wore a red henley that hugged his arms perfectly and his soft curls made an appearance without the presence of his well worn UK hat. He made his way over to you and touched your forehead. “You’re burning up. Damn. The fever’s started.” The feeling of his hand on you was almost indescribable. He was warm and firm and exactly what you felt you needed at that moment. 
You felt yourself acting on purely impulse as you grabbed his hand and dragged it down to your mouth. You started to kiss his palm and moved your attention to his thumb. You placed it firmly between your lips and began to suck. “Oh fuck.” Gaz exhaled as he watched you with wide eyes. You continued your ministrations and moved from his thumb to his index and middle fingers. You began to lick around his digits before you engulfed them in your mouth with a guttural moan. You could taste the salt and gunpowder from the mission and it only made you crave him more. You lifted your gaze to him and willed your eyes to meet his. The groan that fell from his lips was divine. You removed his fingers from your mouth and helped his hand descend to where you really needed him. “Fuck. No. I can't do that princess. Not when you're like this.”
“But I really really want you to. Come on, Kyle. It’ll help me feel so much better.” You purred. Gaz let out a shaky breath, pulled his hand from you, and walked out the room but not without you noticing him readjusting himself in his pants. Fine, I'll do it myself. You sighed and pulled your panties down your legs till they rested at your ankles. You slid your fingers between your legs and gasped at how wet you were. You slowly started to trail your finger through your folds, collecting some of the wetness that had dripped from you and began to rub your clit. As soon as your finger pressed against your reactive little nub you were in heaven. You started in small circular motions and rubbed until you felt you needed more. You moved your other hand to your breast and tugged at your nipple. You kneaded and grabbed your breast like it was the key to your survival. You’ve never felt like this before. It's like you can feel everything, everywhere, all at the same time. You felt the rough fabric of the sheets, the scratchy wool of the pillow behind your head and you felt the soft cotton that was resting around your ankles.  You were still shivering from the fever but you felt like you could feel the stimulation of your clit in your toes. You needed more. 
You moved your hand from your plush breast to rest right at your soaked opening. You circled your middle finger a few times just to get it wet, and sank right into your leaking entrance. “Oh fuuuuuck”. You could feel the pressure of the finger at your walls as you started to curve your finger inside of yourself searching for your g-spot. You continued rubbing your clit and curling your finger inside of you hoping to seek your elease. It felt so good but it just wasn't enough. You slipped in another finger and moaned at the intrusion. You started to pant and whine with how good you were feeling, but you felt yourself needing more. You continued the calculated movements and felt your orgasm approaching. You just needed a little more. One more push to get you there. One curl of your finger turned to two, then to three, then the pleasure turned into frustration. “Fuuuuuuck.” You groaned as you  pulled your fingers from your body and layed on the mattress in a heap of sweat and frustration. You felt yourself slowly drift back into the unconscious void even as you worked to steady your breaths.  
---
“She sucked my fingers. Wanted me to fuck her. With my fingers. Uh she begged me to. And she was down to her knickers” Gaz confessed as he dropped his eyes to his combat boots, too unsure to look at his team. 
“Did you lad?” Price probed. 
“No, I couldn't do it. I really thought about it and I- I don't know. She definitely has a fever though.”
“Hm.” Was all that left Price's mouth. 
“We're gonna have to check up on her. Make sure her heart isn't working too hard and see how to keep her satiated. For her sake.” Simon stated matter of factly. 
“Does it say it has to be expelled through “sexual intercourse” or can she just, ya know, uh.. “Get there”, and work it out her system.” Soap questioned, looking toward Price and seeking the answers he normally has. 
“Johnny. It says coitus.” Simon replied. 
“No one’s gonna fuck her like this. It’s not right.” Gaz stated.
“What if we have to?” Soap doubted.
“Maybe we should see if an orgasm is the solution. If that doesn't work then last resort, someone will do what needs to be done.” Price said with a sense of finality. 
---
You felt the press of two fingers at your carotid artery and shivered at the warmth they offered. You fluttered your eyes open and nearly jumped out of your skin when they met dark brown ones behind a human skull mask. You’d seen Simon before and regularly worked with him but you'd never woken to him standing over you like the grim reaper.  
“Jesus, Simon.” 
“‘Just checking your heart rate.” He confirmed. Simon almost always has his gloves on. To feel his fingers at your neck had you craving more of his touch. You grabbed his hand that was at your neck and splayed it across your jugular. You looked up at him with full, pleading eyes and felt him squeeze a bit. A light moan left your lips as you begged him to squeeze harder. The groan that left his mouth would surely implant itself in the depths of your mind for years to come. The sound coming from him went straight to your core and you felt yourself clenching your thighs. 
“Simon, please.”
“Fuckin’ hell. Don’t look at me like that. Not while you've got your knickers round your ankles.”
“Please. Si. I need you. I’m so fucking horny. I can feel everything Simon. Please just help me feel good. I promise I’ll be good. You can use me however you want. However you need to. Please.”
“Don't say that y/n.” He turned his gaze away from your face. 
“I mean it. Please help me.”
“Just my fingers darling.” 
“Yes. Yes, thank you so much.” You nodded your head eagerly and bit down on your lip. If your fingers weren't working to get you there, maybe his would. You parted your legs for him and he hung his head and rolled his shoulders while he let out a deep “Fuck”. His grip on your neck tightened and you felt your head go light. “Oh fuck yes.” His other hand made its way between your plush legs and ran between your folds. Simon’s eyes were locked onto your pussy and he was in awe of how wet you were. He knew what the toxins effects on you were but to see them in person had him stiff as a board in his pants.  Fuck this was so wrong of him. He knew he wanted to help you but part of him was living out his sick and twisted fantasies. To have you, a stunning woman, dripping wet and begging for him to fuck you, he’d be insane to not feel at least a bit aroused. He dragged a finger around your clit and almost purred at the whine that left your lips. He continued to make slow and tedious circles around your clit. 
“Simon, please I need more. Can you - mmm fuck- can you fuck me?” How could he deny you when you’ve asked him so nicely. 
“Only with my fingers, darling.” He slipped in two fingers and groaned at how tight you were. Your back arched so deeply and he wondered to himself what it would be like to be behind you when you arched like that. Simon began to work his fingers inside of you. He started with slow but deep pumping motions and moved onto scissoring his fingers inside of you searching for that special spot that he knows will make you tick. Your breath hitched in your throat and you let out a long high pitched squeal. 
“Is that it, darling? Right there? Hm?” He beamed with a sense of condescension that made your pussy tighten on his fingers. 
“Oh fuck Simon. Please, please let me cum.” His fingers were hitting all of the right parts of you and you felt your orgasm nearing. 
“Of course you can come, darling. Fucking soak my fingers. I know you need it. Come on, darling.”
You slid your hand down to your clit and rubbed it in furious circles. His grip tightened on your neck and you felt fuzzy everywhere. “Cum all over my fingers. Make a mess, why don't you.” And at that final comment from Simon, you felt the band within you snap as you had one of the most intense orgasms of your life. Your toes curled and your back was nearly curved into a C shape. Your pussy clenched and unclenched as Simon continued his assault. You felt your ears ringing from the intensity of the orgasm and felt like you lost hearing for a little moment. As you panted and tried to recover from your climax, Simon removed his drenched fingers from you, lifted his mask to just below his nose, and brought his hand up to his mouth. He locked eyes with you and you watched him in amazement as he cleaned you from his fingers. Your eyes flutter at how intense the sight was. His strong jaw, scarred but pink lips, and traces of stubble left you wanting more. He moved the hand that was on your neck back to your pulse point to check your heart rate.
“It’s slowed a bit. Get some rest," and with that he left the room and you felt yourself slip from consciousness.
1K notes · View notes
teaboot · 3 months
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OH FUCK YALL THOUGHT I WAS *ARMED GUARD*????
BRUHHHHHHHH
I'm the lowest level licensed security you can hire
I work foot patrol for shit like wet cement, construction sites, malls, libraries, outreach centers, and local events
My job is, essentially, human scarecrow
I am not permitted to carry a gun.
I am not permitted to carry a taser.
I am not permitted to carry pepper spray.
I am not permitted to carry a baton
I am not permitted to carry a knife or any multitool containing a knife
I don't have a plate vest
I'm not permitted to make any physical contact outside of administering first aid or in self defense, which must be made in minimal force required to ensure personal safety
I escort employees to make bank deposits, ask aggressive or violent people to leave, and take notes on safety hazards in patrolled areas
If someone bleeds, throws up, or takes a dump somewhere they shouldn't, it's between me and the custodian to make sure nobody slips in it bay bee
It is none of my business if someone is doing drugs. If they aren't an active danger to themselves or others then they're golden
ADDITIONAL INFORMATION
If you're selling drugs in clear view I will ask that you please do that elsewhere, ideally with more discretion. End of interaction
If you are using drugs in clear view I will tell you *exactly* where the property ends so you can smoke your bong 3 feet outside of that line where I can't do shit if someone complains. End of interaction
Site Security is not police. It is not LPO. Someone could point you out as you run off the site and say "I saw him shove a microwave down his pants and walk out" and it would be approximately none of my business.
THINGS THAT ARE MY BUSINESS
Overdose in the bathroom. I will verbally check twice that you are conscious, and if I get no response I will warn that I am coming in to check on you. If I find you on the ground I will again try to speak to you, warn that I am touching your shoulder, and give you a jiggle. If I can't wake you up I roll you into recovery and wait for paramedics.
Threatening or harassing staff. You cannot make passes at the highschooler operating the pretzel stand. You cannot tell the bank teller you'll "track him down eventually". The lady at the nail salon said she didn't want to marry you six times now and now I'm your problem
Abuse, endangerment, or neglect. If you leave your baby on the sidewalk so you can shop by yourself then I will be the jerk who ruins your day. If you hit your kid I will become very much your problem. If you locked your dog in the car with the windows rolled up six hours ago and it isn't getting up when I tap the window I'm gonna be the biggest pain in the ass you'll see all day
Safety hazards. Don't shoot off a bottle rocket in the parking lot. Yes it's very cool and you probably won't hit anything important but there's a pretty big empty lot like six blocks away man, what if you nail a kid or something. If you wanna take your bearded dragon to the food court, keep him in your coat or in a carrier. Climb the telephone pole on Tuesday because thats my day off
Client complaints/concerns. Boss says you've been here living in your car for three days and it's time to move on. You and I know it's been a month but between us if you switch locations every couple days around the lot she won't catch you again till at least May. As long as you don't leave a bunch of trash laying out we're good.
END NOTES
If you have tattoos on your face, throat, or hands and you wanna pull something you gotta be so incredibly discrete, is so incredibly easy for Law Enforcement to track you down you have no idea. I know like 3 guys with face tattoos in town, one of them's been my buddy since highschool and the other 2 were introduced to me like "watch out for a guy with a star on his cheek, his name is Patrick Sturblish, he's 43 years old and I saw him pocket a redbull once".
Always assume someone is operating the cameras live.
The courts are so insanely overwhelmed all the time, if you nab something small and vital like bandages, tampons, underwear, whatever and don't have a long list of priors usually even a cop won't bother trying to charge you. If I can't tell you not to steal for the consequences then at least don't get cocky about it
In my own experience if you walk into a big store and straight up tell someone "I don't want to steal but I need this very badly" then usually someone will find a way to get it to you
If someone tells me you're stealing on camera I will let you know that someone caught you and it's your last chance to put stuff back before they do something
If you pull a weapon on me or someone else while I'm working then I'm required to inform police so please don't do that thank you
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azrielslittleslut · 1 month
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"Gray Sweatpants"
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Tumblr media
Warnings: smut, 18+, pure filth, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), reader is ovulating, breeding kink, shadow play, pet names
Word Count: 3.1k
a/n: i am not responsible for what i write when i'm ovulating. that wasn't me... it was Patricia.
Enjoy!
The fire in the living room of your home was burning low, the embers crackling as you read a book on the couch. As you turned a page, you lifted your eyes to the clock above the mantle. It was already past midnight, and your eyes were growing heavy with sleep.
With a sigh, you stood from the couch and stretched. The blanket that had been draped over your legs fell to the ground, and you shivered as the cold air danced across your skin.
You wouldn’t be so cold if your mate was here, you thought. But he had been gone for three days on some mission, and you had been left alone. You were cold, and lonely, and obscenely horny-
You took a deep breath to settle yourself, focusing on calming the budding desire that was growing low in your belly. It was unfortunate timing that Azriel had been sent away on a mission during your ovulation cycle. Usually, you kept track of it, making sure that he would be here to take care of you and your desires during these few days. But you had lost track this time, and your mate wasn’t here.
Gods. Just the thought of him. He was so sexy, and muscular… and the way his cock would feel inside of you, the thick head of him hitting your-
“Fuck, Az,” you breathed as you made your way toward the bedroom. “Why can't you just come home already?” You were used to him being gone on missions- it was his job, after all. But he had never been away while you were ovulating, and you felt as if your entire body was going to burst if you didn't have his hands on you within the next five minutes.
You entered the bedroom, your mood suddenly sour. You threw yourself down onto the bed with a groan, your body tingling with unmet needs. You silently cursed Rhys for sending your mate away on some stupid mission, while you were left here alone, drowning in the crashing waves of desire.
You could take care of it yourself, but you knew that while it would make the urges go away for a while, you would still be left unsatisfied. You were never able to touch yourself as Azriel did. You were unable to give yourself the mind-shattering orgasms that your mate gave you regularly.
Still, it was better than nothing, and there was no telling when Azriel would be coming home. You quickly moved your hand down, pulling up your nightgown. You weren't in the mood to tease yourself tonight. You needed to get the job done quickly before you lost your mind.
Your fingers had just reached your upper thigh when you heard soft wingbeats from outside the window. Azriel's shadows swarmed the room, announcing their master's arrival.
With a squeal, you jumped off the bed, sprinting to the window to greet your mate as he landed through the large frame. His feet had barely touched the floor before you threw your arms around him, your face buried in his neck. Your eyes rolled back at the masculine scent of him- night-chilled mist, cedar, and... sweat.
You loved all of Azriel, but you were a clean person, and you never hugged him like this when he was sweaty. But gods the musk of him... The way those leathers hugged his muscled body in all of the right places, the way his siphons gleamed in the darkness, a sign of how powerful he is...
Stupid fucking hormones.
Az chuckled as he wrapped his strong arms around you. "Missed you too, love," he murmured into your hair. His shadows skimmed up your legs, their cold tendrils wrapping around your ankles and thighs. You wanted them to keep going up, up, up, until they touched your throbbing core to grant you some form of relief.
"Missed you more," you muttered, your words slurring as you were overwhelmed with the presence of your mate. You looked up at him, saw the way those full lips of his were curved into a smile, and decided you would have him right here and now.
You reached up to grab him by the shoulders, meaning to pull him down onto the floor because you didn't think you would make it to the bed.
Azriel grabbed your wrists, his grip gentle but firm. "Not tonight, angel," he said as he pressed a kiss to your hair. "It's been a long few days, and I'm so tired. I just want a bath and sleep."
You blinked up at him, forcing the haze of desire to leave your eyes. His face was paler than usual, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He was tired, you realized with a pang in your chest.
Though you wanted him so badly you could hardly think straight, he was still your mate, and his well-being was your top priority. If he wasn't in the mood, you would force yourself to gain some semblance of self-control so he could get the rest he so obviously needed.
"That's alright," you said, your voice surprisingly even. "I'm tired, too. Would you like me to help you bathe?"
Please say no. Please say no, you silently pleaded. You didn't think you would be able to control yourself if you saw his glorious body in the bathtub. But it would be strange if you didn't ask him, as it had become a routine for you to help him wash after long missions.
Azriel smiled as he made his way to the bathroom, his wings dragging on the floor slightly. "No, thank you," he responded, his tone full of exhaustion. "I will be in and out. Go ahead and get comfortable, baby."
You nodded distantly as you made your way back to the bed and got under the blanket. You heard the water running, followed by the sound of Azriel's leathers hitting the floor. You listened closely as the water rippled, a sign that he was in the bath, which meant he was naked. Your mouth watered at the thought of his cock-
No! You inwardly cursed yourself, breathing deeply, trying to focus on anything other than the sound of your exhausted mate innocently taking a bath. You could do this. You could be a good little mate and get your shit together for a few more hours.
You didn't know how long you sat there, your eyes locked onto the far wall, your body so tense you were sure you would be sore in the morning. You were pulled from your thoughts as you heard Azriel's light footsteps pad into the bedroom. You turned to look at him, a soft smile on your face, but that smile quickly turned into a look of predatory hunger as you saw what he was wearing.
Azriel was shirtless, his brown skin still damp from the bath, his Illyrian tattoos dark and gleaming. He was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, the waistband sitting low on his hips, giving you a perfect view of his glorious V-line.
Your eyes went farther down, and you let out a soft moan at the sight of his cock. It was clear he wasn't wearing any underwear, as you could see the perfect outline of his proud length through the pants.
You decided two things at once. The first thing was that you never wanted Az to get rid of these pants.
The second thing was that you would do anything to get him to take them off.
Azriel's dark brows rose. "Like what you see, love?" he teased, his deep voice low and tired. His shadows swirled around him lazily, as if they too were exhausted beyond comprehension.
"Az," you said, forcing your voice to remain steady. "I've never seen those pants before. When did you get them?"
He toyed with the string on the front as he said, "I bought them last week. They looked comfortable, so I thought I would wear them to sleep." He gave you an innocent shrug, completely oblivious to the sinful path of your thoughts.
He must be tired. Az was always aware of your cues, both verbal and nonverbal. It was a rare occurrence indeed for him to miss the scent of your arousal.
You let out a breath, your fingers gripping the blanket so hard you swore it would rip. "I like them," you murmured, the tone of your voice dropping slightly.
Az tilted his head to the side, his hazel eyes squinting as he looked at you. "Are you alright, love?" he asked, his expression one of concern. "You're... vibrating."
Indeed, you could feel your body shaking, your teeth chattering with desire. "I'm- I'm fine, Az. Really. Just tired," you said through your teeth.
Just get in the fucking bed, Azriel, you wanted to shout. Stop asking questions.
Azriel's shadows swarmed you at once, a few of them lingering around his ear. He leaned forward slightly and inhaled deeply, his eyes rolling back into his head. "You're ovulating," he groaned. "Why didn't you say so?"
You eyed his shadows as they swarmed around your body. They always alerted Azriel to your condition, and it was obvious they had given you away tonight. "You're tired, Azriel," you whispered, moving back against the headboard. "I can wait until tomorrow."
Azriel smirked at you, all signs of his earlier exhaustion wiped away in an instant. He bit his lip as his eyes darkened with lust. He took a step forward, his muscular thighs straining against those damned pants. "Let me take care of you, love. I know how painful this can be," he murmured, his deep voice lower than usual. You had a thing for his voice, especially when it sounded like that. "Let me make my mate feel good."
You thanked all of the gods, the Mother, and the cauldron for blessing you with such an attentive mate.
Before you could think, you found yourself crawling off the bed and onto the floor. You crawled on your hands and knees to him, your mouth watering at the sight of his body in front of you. You stopped once you got to him, kneeling submissively at his feet. You raised up enough to pull on the waistband of the sweatpants with your teeth. "Can I taste?" you asked, looking up at him through your lashes.
Azriel ran a hand through your hair, his touch gentle but possessive. "Is that what you want? You want my cock in your mouth?" he asked, his voice full of dominance. When you were like this, you loved his dominant side, and he always gave you what you desired.
You nodded frantically. "Yes, please!" you moaned, your fingers moving up to grasp the waistband.
"Then go ahead, baby. Taste me."
You wasted no time in pulling down his pants enough to reveal his cock. He was half-way hard, and you would normally take your time, teasing him with gentle licks and kisses along his length.
But you didn't have the patience for that tonight.
You grabbed him at the base as you wrapped your lips around him, your tongue licking up the small bead of pre cum on his tip. Azriel moaned as you started to bob your head, your hand stroking what you couldn't fit into your mouth.
He grabbed your head with both hands, twisting your hair up in his fist. "So fucking good, baby," he moaned, his head thrown back in pure bliss.
You smirked around his cock as you moved your hands up to his waist, your fingers pulling on his hips in a silent plea. Azriel understood your command, and his hazel eyes glowed with predatory intent as he looked down at you. "Four taps if it's too much," he said, his voice blending in with the shadows surrounding you. You could feel them swarming along your thighs and chest, but they were staying away from the spots you wanted them most.
As much as you loved his shadows pleasuring you, tonight, your pleasure belonged to Azriel alone.
You nodded as best as you could with his cock down your throat. His grip on your hair tightened as he began to thrust, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each rough movement.
You gagged and choked, but you kept going, loving the obscene sounds coming from your mate. "Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck," he moaned, his eyes rolling back in his head.
With one hand, you ran your fingers along his stomach, loving the feeling of his abs tensing as he thrust into your mouth. With the other, you cupped his balls, massaging them gently, knowing it would drive him wild.
Azriel pulled away, his hands loosening their grip on your hair. You looked up at him with teary eyes, knowing you probably looked like a wanton whore. You had saliva running down your chin, and your hair was an outright mess, but you didn't care.
Tonight, you were his whore, his to use and breed.
Az grabbed you by the shoulders, lifting you up roughly so your lips met his. The kiss was rough, all teeth and tongue. You nipped at his bottom lips as you wrapped your legs around his waist. "Why did you stop?" you asked breathlessly. "I was enjoying myself."
He kissed down your neck, biting down on your pulse point as he walked toward the bed. "The only place I'm coming tonight is deep inside that tight little cunt of yours."
His filthy words caused a fresh wave of desire to flood your veins, and you dug your nails into his shoulders. "Please, Az," you begged, grinding your throbbing core against his cock. "I need you so bad."
"I know, baby girl," he whispered, leaning down to press a final kiss to your lips. "I know what you need tonight. Do you trust me?"
You bit your lip as you nodded, expecting him to lay you down gently on the bed. You gasped as he spun you around and threw you onto the mattress so you were lying on your stomach. You struggled up onto your elbows, looking at him over your shoulder. "Az, what-"
You stopped as you saw him standing behind you, his glorious wings spread out behind him. His shadows filled the room as he unleashed his power, his hazel eyes glowing as he looked at you spread out for him on the bed. "Face down. Ass up."
Pure and utter command laced his words, and you found yourself obeying, trusting him to take care of you.
Azriel moved your nightgown up enough to give him access. You moved to remove it completely, but you were stopped as his shadows pinned your hand to the bed. "Don't move. Let me make you feel good," he murmured as he ran his hands along the flesh of your ass. You had not put on any underwear earlier, and you quickly thanked your past self for that decision.
You moaned as he slapped your right ass cheek, the sting followed by nothing but pleasure. "You're so perfect," he muttered. "So wet and ready for me. I don't even think I need to prepare you. I bet I could slip right into this wet pussy."
"Please," you moaned into the sheets. "Need you now." He was big enough that you usually needed him to stretch you out with his fingers before fucking you. But you could feel your wetness dripping down your thighs, and a dark part of you wanted to feel the pain as he stretched you out.
Azriel lined himself up with you, moving his cock through your slick folds to coat himself. He gripped your ass with a hand as he buried himself into your tight heat in a single thrust. You screamed as he did so, your fingers tangling in the sheets as much as his shadows would allow.
He set a punishing pace, his balls slapping against your clit with each rough thrust. "You. Feel. So. Fucking. Good." He accentuated each word with a thrust, his fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises. "This cunt is mine. All mine."
"Yes, yes, yes," you moaned, your eyes rolling back as he hit deep. "Don't stop."
The sound of skin slapping on skin mixed with your screams and moans was so sinful, but you loved it. You loved the way the head of his cock hit your cervix with each thrust. You loved the way he could meet your needs in a way that nobody else could. He was yours and you were his, and nothing would ever change that.
"What's my name, love?" he groaned, his voice breathless, his thrusts sloppy. "Say my fucking name."
"Azriel!" you screamed as you felt your climax approaching. Distantly, you had an odd thought, one that only came when you were ovulating. A need that you only cared about being met during this part of your cycle. "Fill me up, Azriel. Get me pregnant."
You both drank the contraceptive tea, so pregnancy wasn't necessarily on the table. But right now, the thought of carrying his child, of being so full of his come that it dripped out of you, sent you into a near madness.
"Oh, shit. Oh, fuck," Azriel whimpered, his hand moving down to rub your clit. "Come for me, baby. Come now."
You screamed his name as you came, your body straining against his shadows as you trembled. With a final, hard thrust, Azriel slammed into your cunt, warm ropes of his come filling you.
After a few moments, Azriel commanded his shadows to release you, and he gently raised your wrist to press kisses along your skin. "I'm sorry I wasn't home earlier," he said, the exhaustion entering his voice again. "Your ovulation happened earlier than usual this time."
You turned over so you were on your back, looking up at him with a tired smile. You playfully put your feet on his chest as you said, "It's alright. You made up for it."
Az chuckled as he massaged your legs. "Were you really going to go to sleep feeling like that?" he asked, his gaze soft. "I know how... needy you can get."
You playfully kicked him. "I was going to let you sleep," you said, pushing yourself up on your hands as you moved your feet down. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss on the warm skin of his chest. "But then I saw you in those damned pants, and I couldn't help myself."
Azriel laughed as he pulled you down on the bed, his body warm as he tucked you into his side. He draped a wing protectively around you as his shadows covered you. "In that case," he said, "remind me to wear them more often."
You laughed tiredly at his teasing, your eyes closing as exhaustion claimed your body. You were finally sated, and you were in your mate's arms, so sleep would come easily tonight.
Your dreams that night were filled with your shadowsinger wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants.
general tag list: @quiet-loser @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria
@anarchiii @inkedinshadows @panther-girl-124
@scorpioriesling
2K notes · View notes
miirohs · 3 months
Text
birds of a feather [k.s]
pairing: Ken Sato x GN!Reader wc: 1.4k cw: bad hurt/comfort (?) an: i got that skibidi found family type brainrot fs 😂 on gyatt.... anyways i promise i will get back to writing formula one but i need to simp for this man solidly. also i can't write hurt/comfort ive said this a million times but ugh man does it suck to write.
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The house in Japan was a lot more peaceful than the one in the States. More secluded, quietly overlooking the city. 
Every day you came home from work, the house dark and empty with Ken gone to his other job.
You didn’t bother him about it, keeping the delicate balance between his two jobs. You didn’t mind it either. It gave you time to yourself, time to adjust, but you weren’t sure you could’ve said the same about Ken.
Ever since his last run-in with the KDF, he’d been exhausted. His eyebags only grew instead of shrinking, and his watch went off almost every possible moment it could. You had asked him what was wrong, but he’d never been one to let you lick his wounds for him, watering it down to some kind of side effect of the stress on him.
Unlocking the doors, you hopped inside, pulling your shoes off as you looked around.
You could hear the tv running in the background, the clinking ice against metal. It wasn’t strange for him to be off duty after games, but you just assumed he wouldn’t be.
The beatdown was probably worse than usual, if you had to guess.
You wandered into the living room, and there he was, sitting in his ice bath. You couldn’t see much because of how dark the room was, but part of his face was lit by the replays on the screen. 
You could almost make out his eyes narrowing at the screen, huffing as he sunk deeper into the water.
“Ken?” He turned to you, eyes pained as he pushed himself up.
“Hi baby.” He greeted softly, a hand tenderly moving to his side as he turned to you.
“Are you okay-“
“I’m fine.” You flinched at the strained quality of his voice.
“My bad. I was just trying to check on you.” You mumbled, holding up your hands as you stood stuck to your spot.
He saw, and his eyes softened, extending an inviting hand to you.
“I’m sorry. The seasons been kind of rough lately.” He murmured as he held your hand gently, squeezing it.
You hummed in response, eyes trailing down the expanse of his body. You could see some bruising, blooming in splotches of yellow, purple and red under his skin. It looked like it hurt.
“I’m taking it you got into a fight on field?”
“Not this time, no,” He scoffed, leaning against the warmth of your hand, “I collapsed, tried crawling my way to the last base, and failed. I was so close to getting those points.” The last part was tinged with embarrassment, his face pulled into a grimace as your hand ran across his arm.
“That's terrible, I'm sorry Ji.” He shrugged, eyes staring ahead at the screen, those embarrassing scenes reflecting back in his eyes. “It is what it is.”
“So you’re off duty tonight then?” He sighed, nodding reluctantly.
“For now, but who knows?” He said sullenly. You couldn’t stop your hopes from crashing entirely, hand slipping out of his unconsciously.
“Don’t look at me like that, you know how it is. I can’t control what happens, I…” He stopped, a look of regret creeping onto his face.
“I'll join you in a bit. Promise I'll try not to leave tonight?” He tried softly, looking at you with poorly disguised hope in his eyes. 
It worked, and you released the breath you were holding.
“You’ll be okay?”
He didn’t respond, and you didn’t push him for one, quietly leaving the room.
True to his word, he appeared at the door an hour later, dragging himself across the threshold. He looked worse than he did earlier, wincing slightly as he sat down on the edge of the bed, hunched over into himself.
“That must have been one really good ice bath…” You trailed off, eyes narrowing at the various injuries on his arm.
“Those look awfully fresh Ji, did you at least get Mina to look at those?” 
“No! No. Uh, no. I didn’t want her to.” He spluttered, crossing his arms. You couldn’t see his face, but you could almost imagine the expression he was making.
“Take off your shirt.” He blinked, a baffled look on his face as turned to you.
“No, why the-“
“Take off your shirt Ken, don’t make me say it again.”
He crossed his arms tighter as you got closer, hand outstretched. You paused, looking at him.
“Would you be okay with me looking?”
He nodded reluctantly, grumbling about not wanting to make a big deal out of it. He had turned away from you, breathing uneven as you got closer.
You pulled up his shirt, heart thumping at the sight. It was worse than what you’d seen earlier.
“Ji, what is this? How…?” He didn’t respond immediately, rubbing his face as he took a deep breath
“I didn’t think they were that bad,” He muttered, wincing as he pulled the shirt over his head, holding it in his hands tightly, “Not as bad as they were last week, babe.”
“How did you even get these?” You questioned, finger tracing up his spine, avoiding the poorly bandaged cuts and bruising.
“Do I have to tell you?” He said, flustering you with the defensiveness in his tone. 
“No. No, you don’t have to.” You reaffirmed quietly, returning to your side of the bed to rummage through your night chest till you found what you needed. “But I would’ve liked it if you did.”
“It’s complicated.”
“I figured it would be. Hold still for me?” 
You shook the bottle of neosporin, spraying down the wounds. He tensed up, a squeak escaping his lips.
“It hurts!” 
“Would you rather Mina do it?”
He shook his head. 
“That’s what I thought. Luckily these were already somewhat decently clean. That bruising looks like a muscle injury though.” You whistled, setting down the neosporin in favor of some bandaids. 
He continued to let him work on your, mostly silent other than the occasional wincing. You could tell he was trying his hardest to play tough, unaware you could see through it all.
“I’m sorry you have to see me like this.” He muttered suddenly, fists clenching the bedsheets as you gently laid the bandages on his back. “It’s not fair to you.”
“Kenji, I know it's tough for you, but I'm here because I want to be. I care about you." You scooted to the edge of the bed, looping a hand into his loosening fist.
The dim lights highlighted the sharpness of his face, eyes cutting through the dimmed light as they looked out the window. He looked beautiful, as exhausted as he was.
“I want to tell you. I don’t know if there will ever be a right time for you, and you deserve better than me being on the move all day and night.”
“Nope.” You popped the p, clutching his hand tighter. “We promised to stick together, remember? Hell, I followed you all the way from the states because I was confident we could work together. So, I need you to speak to me. Make it work.”
A heartbeat passed. And then he spoke.
“The pressure, the expectations... I feel like I'm constantly running, trying to keep up." He confessed quietly, “There's a lot riding on what I’ve done.”
“Something tells me you’re not talking about baseball.”
“I’m not,” He laughed humorlessly, “I’m just worried I’m not doing enough. That I’m not enough.”
"Ken," you said softly, turning to him “I can’t pretend to understand what you do, but you’re making so many people proud. Your mother, your father, me.”
His eyes were glossed over, and he brought up an arm to cover them, sniffing slightly.
“I hope you know I’m here for you. Birds of a feather, we gotta stick together, you know? I’d follow you to hell and back Ken, and you know that.” You continued, bringing up his hand to press a kiss to it.
He nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the tears. "Thank you," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, "For everything."
“Of course,” you replied, leaning against him carefully.
“The next time you get injured, just let Mina or me know, understand?”
“Perfectly.”
1K notes · View notes
smutoperator · 6 months
Text
Room 922
Im Nayeon x Male Reader
Tags: ass eating, creampies, dirty talk, edging, female masturbation, footjob, grinding, head-bobbing, hotel room, lingerie, lube, (a very) naughty tongue, no-hands blowjobs, riding, rimjob, uncut cock, window sex
Word count: 5326.
Paying a tuition for medical school isn't easy. You were seeing it as you had to work all day in a hotel to make money. It was a very tiring job where you were responsible for cleaning many rooms a day before heading up to your university. Today specifically, the hotel seemed even fuller, as you were told a Korean pop group would be stationed there.
"You have service for room 922," your superior said. Climbing up to the 9th floor this early wasn't something you were very keen on doing, yet you had no choice. To make things worse, the service elevator was broken. After a long climb, you finally found the room you were called to. Greeting you was a woman in white lingerie.
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"Hello," Nayeon said. "You must be the cleaning guy," she continued. "Yes, I am," you said, a little embarrassed to look at her in such an outfit. "You've got a lot to clean here today," Nayeon continued. "But I was told you just arrived," you replied. "Well, not that usual cleaning," she said.
"What does she mean by that?" you think to yourself. Meanwhile, Nayeon grabs her butt and shakes it in front of you, staring at the hotel's window and the city's beautiful morning skies. "It's all yours today, that hot body," she then says. "What?" you ask, baffled. "I-I-I can't do that; stop," you back off. "Of course you can; just close the door and let me give you a dream experience in this room," she replied, spanking her own ass in the process.
Nayeon kept moving her body, waiting for you to take the initiative. However, you just remained frozen while watching her wiggle it. "Are you going to do anything?" she asked. You finally decided to move, grabbing Nayeon's ass. You were surprised by how fit and toned it was, running your hands all over it before giving it the first few spankings. "This is amazing; your ass is so hot," you told her. "Yes, baby, I know," she said as she kept jiggling it. Her thong was so small that you could already see the meaty outer lips of her pussy. Holy shit, who was this insane woman, and why was she doing that?
"Ahhh," Nayeon let out the first moan as you couldn't resist diving into her still-clothed butt and smoothering her tight ass. "That's where your face belongs," Nayeon approved, grabbing the back of your head and pushing it further against her ass, moving it left and right, and enjoying it as she turned her face to see it. "Hmmmm, yeah, that face is really into my sexy ass," Nayeon laughed and bragged. "Oh, fuck, yes, it is," you confirmed.
"Ahahaha!" Nayeon kept laughing at how hard you were simping for her butt, shaking it in the air once again to tease you. "Wanna see more of that hot body, baby?" she rhetorically asked as she pulled her bra to the side and unveiled her already hard nipples. She loved your reaction to it, still baffled at how a stranger could be so bold to do that to a hotel employee with no restraints.
You got on your knees and stared at Nayeon's body, especially her lips, both the ones at the top and the ones at the bottom of it. Suddenly, she pulled her panties to the side and showed you her already throbbing cunt, running her hands all over it. "I like those pussy lips," you told her. "Me too," she said. Nayeon had long, dangling inner lips, which she then spread out for you, and you tasted the juices of her pussy.
"Lube my tits; I want them very shiny," she said, giving you a tiny bottle of lube that you poured on her milkers, rubbing it all over them as soon as you stopped. "Oh my God, it's so slick," she said as she grabbed them. Nayeon then started teasing you, moving her panties in and out before finally taking them fully off, turning around for you to see her fully naked ass, and spreading her cunt and butthole for you.
"Wow, it's amazing; you're so fit," you told her. "Thank you," Nayeon said. "Now let me see what you're hiding under those pants," Nayeon asked, which you promptly followed, showing her your already hard, uncut boner to her. "I can see you're liking it a lot," Nayeon said as soon as she took a look at the size of your throbbing erection. "I love it," you confirmed to her as she turned around and teased her pussy for you, fingering it in front of your face.
You finally got up, getting face-to-face with Nayeon. Your hard cock already pointed straight into her cunt, making her eyes brighten. She held your shaft and rubbed her pussy lips into it, tasing her entrance to you, who groaned as the friction of her grindind turned your cock throbbing red. Nayeon licked her chops, ready to taste an uncut cock for the first time in a long while.
"I already want to taste that cock; I want this so bad; I'm so hungry for it," she told you in front of your face, her bunny teeth glowing as she said each of those words. "But I'm going to take my time with you today," she continued as she kept grinding on it, getting her nipples even harder and moving up and down, side to side, on it.
It was Nayeon's turn to get on her knees and worship that swinging, uncut rod. Without using her hands, she sucks your tip almost dry in just her first attempt. She then moves further down that cock, already starting it very sloppily and running her hands down your shaft, moaning while sucking it. "Fuck, that really fits well in my mouth," she says, teasing you, then starting again, this time running her hands all over it, before moving them down to unhook her bra. 
Nayeon gets the tip of your cock very wet, covering it with her saliva, before bobbing her head on your cock increasingly fast. Watching her suck it from above is a spectacle, especially seeing that she does all that hands-free, truly showing how much of a master of cock-sucking she is. As she finishes, her saliva sexily runs down her chin.
"That foreskin—I haven't seen one in a while," Nayeon says as she kisses your cock. You wouldn't think she would be so into a piece of tissue, but a cock like yours is rarely seen in her home country. She laughs and then licks your tip while holding the foreskin. Her naughty tongue drives you crazy, sweeping all over that throbbing tip.
"Fuck," you say, out of breath, as she keeps kissing and sucking your cock sloppily. You can't resist and start pushing your meat up her mouth, but quickly, Nayeon shows who's in control, picking her panties from the ground and using them as a "cock ring" on you, resuming the sucking and bobbing. This time, she goes for the kill, deepthroating your shaft for the first time and holding steady until she finally gags.
Nayeon continues her cock-sucking show, this time going in and out of it with her mouth and still using no hands, looking at the shadows of your swinging cock that the sun hitting the window casts on the hotel room's floor, before resuming her insane and very loud head-bobbing, before holding your cock all the way inside her throat for a good 30 seconds.
After freeing your cock from her custom "ring," Nayeon starts masturbating your shaft. The thing she enjoys the most by far is covering and uncovering your tip with your foreskin, like she just got a new toy to play with. "So good," you tell her. "Hmm, so you enjoy the way I stroke that cock?" she brags as she keeps doing it but now moves down your balls. You groan out of her overstimulation as she already takes your sack fully in her mouth and spits all over it.
Nayeon increases the pace of her stroking and gags hard on your balls. "YESSS!" she gleefully screams as your shaft pokes her face, before moving up to suck it loud once more using no hands. Once she is done, Nayeon sits down and starts rubbing her pussy in front of you. "Ohhhh," she moans as you watch her hands work all over her clit. As soon as she gives you a glimpse, you can already see the wet juices all over the surroundings of her vagina.
Nayeon takes three fingers deep into her already wet cunt, turning her masturbation louder as her pussy gets wetter and wetter. Her moans drive you wild, as she also starts humoing against the floor, drinking her juices as soon as she finishes them, and fully sticking her tongue out for you. "God, you're so hot and sexy," you tell her as she licks her lips and her sloppy pussy juices stick onto her chin, then goes back to your cock, getting herself on all fours to suck your cock, once again bobbing her head like a maniac, taking it deep in her throat to the point where she forces you to pull out to avoid cumming.
As you move closer to the room's bed, Nayeon follows, crawling on all fours towards you. As you sit on it, she dives her mouth straight into your balls while you try to distract yourself by looking at the skyline. Your pole swings up and down at each lick she gives you before standing straight just as she closes her eyes, giving you a beautiful view of your cock and her face side by side.
"So good," you say as Naeyon spits on your tip. "I know you're feeling desperate; just let me edge you," she says. And she's completely right, as you have completely forgotten about your job and only crave for her. "Stroking it nice and slow, up and down, up and down, making you want to cum so bad. But if you want to cum for me, you'll have to fuck me, hmmmm," she says as she jerks you off.
"Look at that fucking cock; all it wants is that wet, tight pussy," Nayeon continues. You can only groan as she keeps edging you and laughing at your despearation. She strokes your cock fast now, her mouth just taking the tip in as she coughs on it. "Oh yes, I wanna spit all over your balls and tongue, that dirty fucking asshole," she tells you as soon as she's done with it.
You spread your legs and give Nayeon easier access to your sack and anus. She rubs her hands around it before closing her eyes and diving that tongue straight into your butthole, moaning inside it. Her tonguing is so good and nasty. Nayeon suddenly opens her eyes and now has her right hand stroking your dick as she stares at you while her mouth keeps working inside your asshole, her legs jilling to tease you as well. 
Nayeon gives you one hell of a lick that starts at your anus and goes all the way up to your tip. You can only grunt, as her naughty tongue has you under full control. As she goes back down, she spits on both your balls and asshole before sticking her hand in her tongue to taste further. "Fuck yes," she says as she goes deeper and deeper inside your rim, then laughs as she moves around it, then increases the pace of her sloppy tonguings.
Barking like a puppy, Nayeon moves up and sticks her tongue into your balls before masturbating your foreskin as she rubs your shaft on her face before inserting it in her mouth and putting your balls resting right between her boobs. She really enjoys that uncut toy so much, gagging all over it and playing with her spit before moving back down to your asshole. "Holy fuck, that shit is so good," she says. No words come out of your mouth; all you can do is take a deep breath as her moves have you on the verge of a heart attack.
You try to get up as soon as Nayeon gives you a little break, but that's a short lift. She's already there to stoke your cock, her eyes closed and her tits popping out better than ever. "That cock looks so fucking wet," she says, praising the workings of her tongue as she rubs your tip against her nipple.
"I'm scared you're gonna cum for me, not yet, boy," she says as she now concentrates the stroking around your tip before diving on it once again. "OHHHH. FUCK!" you scream as Nayeon gives you her sloppiest blowjob yet and gargles all over that meat. She holds herself on your thighs and goes back to her signature head-bobbing, praising your cock after she finishes. "Look at that cock so fucking big, craving to get into my pussy," she says, doing a measurement between your shaft and her face, noticing that your length had surpassed the extension of it.
"Can I put it in your pussy?" you ask as soon as Nayeon finishes her blowjob and gives a major spitting on your shaft. "Uh huh," she says, giving you the green light. "Turn around, please," you tell her, getting a beautiful look at her toned ass. "So good," you tell her as your tip rubs against her skin. You pick up that bottle of lube she gave you and pour it all over her now shiny ass, groaning as Nayeon starts grinding it on your shaft, placing it right in her ass crack. She looks at you while stroking your cock, loving how out of breath you already are without even getting inside her.
"My filthy hands are sliding all over that cock." Nayeon smirks as she strokes your cock, getting it ready to fuck her as she slides your shaft between her legs. "Oh yeah," you say as soon as she does it. "Yes, baby, please," you say as she moans while inserting just your tip inside her warm pussy. Her tight hole squeezes your shaft from the start, getting you more and more desperate.
"Oh wow," Nayeon says as she fully sits on your big cock, making it disappear between her ass cheeks. She looks at your massive bulge under her belly in awe, then laughs as she moves laterally. "God, your pussy is so nice and warm," you tell her. Nayeon rides your cock at very unconventional angles, almost as if she wants to snap it in half, before finally switching to a straight bounce. You can only watch and tell her how good it is, as Nayeon has no issue moving up and down your big shaft, moaning each time she reaches the base of it. This is, indeed, way better than any anatomy class.
"God," you say as Nayeon keeps gyrating on your cock. "Oh, that feels so fucking good; I'm just gonna keep riding it like that," she says as she bounces up and down your dick before stopping midair and putting a finger in her asshole, giving you the order, "Fuck me." You push your cock upwards, hungry to stretch her tight pussy. "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," she moans as you keep thrusting up her cunt.
Nayeon gets so overwhelmed that she has to regain control of it. "Oh god," she says as you hit deep in her cervix, her cheeks clapping hard now as she increases the pace of her riding before suddenly stopping and switching to a slow but sexy grind. "This is perfect, this is perfect," you say as Nayeon moves her ass sideways around your cock before going back to a straight ride. "There you go, there you go; just like that, make them clap," you tell her once she resumes bouncing. 
"OHHHHH YEAHHHHH," Nayeon screams as you two clash. You push up, and she pushes down. Nayeon spanks her own ass at each bounce, turning it red in front of you, then ducks her head down to a point where you can only see her butt bouncing. "OH MY GOD, YES, YES, YES," she screams just before she pulls out to taste her juices, giving your cock a kiss as if she were thanking it.
"Let me stroke it for you," Nayeon says as she sits on the floor and takes her shoes off. "Yes, stroke my cock with your feet," you tell her, getting closer as she puts them right between that huge shaft. You lube your cock to give her an easy stroke, but Nayeon truly doesn't need it. Blowjob, rimjob, footjob—any sex act ending in a job is one she has mastered a long time ago, like a true hard worker.
Nayeon moans as if you were still fucking her; she really enjoys the friction of her feet, especially with socks on and a hard, uncut cock, once again sticking her tongue out like the naughty girl she is. Nayeon starts moving faster with her feet, so much so that it sleeps out of your cock. She seizes the opportunity to push your foreskin up and down, enjoying it a lot as she starts fingering her pussy while doing so.
"Fuck my feet," Nayeon demands. You thrust your hips in the air, thiking of fucking her pussy in all fours as she laughs, pleased with your efforts. "Just like that," Nayeon says as she gets even more opportunities to see that throbbing tip pop out of your foreskin. Her feet preesing your cock are no different than her pussy's tightness after all, as the space you slide between them is roughly the same size as her hole.
"Hmmm, you're getting harder for those feet. Fuck it like you're fucking my pussy," Nayeon says, sending you over the moon. You pound the air as fast as you can, closing your eyes as she pushes you to the limit. Thankfully, she stops just as you were about to cum, rubbing her soles on your shaft and tip to caress them. "So fucking good" is all you can tell her.
Nayeon keeps playing with your foreskin as her soles now massage your cock, before she resumes stroking it with her feet. You soon follow and go back to fucking them, leading to more laughs and smirks from her as she lies on the floor. "Harder," she tells you as you push your cock between her soles. Once again, Nayeon wins the battle, as her stamina is much higher and she outlasts you, stroking your cock for a while before you stop pushing it.
"Let me see this nice ass," you tell her as Nayeon gets on all fours, the sun from the window hitting straight at her. You place your cock right between her ass crack, leading her to start grinding on it without even looking at your dick. She would definitely love the way your tip went in and out of your foreskin, making a big noise each time it popped out of it. You add extra lube to make her humping easier, as Nayeon now moves faster and then starts slapping your shaft on her butt.
"Ahhh, yes, yes, yes," Nayeon says as she finishes it. But soon, she'd go back to praying to God as you inserted your cock back in her pussy. "Shhh, they might hear it," you told her in a snap that you were actually supposed to be working, not fucking one of Korea's top pussies. But instead, she just laughed and cursed further as you moved your hips and fulfilled your dream of fucking her on all fours.
You panted at each thrust as Nayeon's vagina crushed your cock to the maximum. "Just like that," she said as her asshole was winking every time you pumped inside her. Her moaning got more frequent while you fucked her faster. "Don't stop fucking me," she said, her face all the way down the floor. Nayeon slapped her ass as you kept fucking her while also moving her hips sideways. "Please, keep going; fuck my pussy," she continued.
As you stopped to catch your breath, Nayeon kept moving, bouncing on your cock for a few seconds before you pushed inside her with all your might. As soon as you got tired again, she repeated the move, but this time you just let her do the work, as she also started fingering her clit while doing so, her juices coating all over your huge shaft.
"Stretch me out," Nayeon demanded as she now stopped bouncing, giving free roam for your cock to go as deep as you could. "Oh my Godddd~~," she said as her voice cracked. You took advantage of her weakness and went harder on her, making her scream even louder as she started biting her nails with your cock filling her cunt. But in the end, she loved it, giving you a huge laugh as you stuck your cock at the deepest point of her pussy, staying in there for quite a while.
As you resumed pounding, Nayeon was now completely submissive to your big cock, just trying to hold her tiny body while getting manhandled nonstop. "OH FUCKKKKKKK~~ PLEASE. YES," she kept screaming, her tits bouncing hard as you mounted her like an animal. But you could tell how much she enjoyed it as soon as you got closer to her face. She winked at you and also gave you a hot kiss. Nayeon was now just a hot mess of moans and screams, a sleeve to your cock.
"Let's go to the window," you told her. Nayeon stared at it and crawled in its direction, putting her elbow on it as she started shaking her ass once again. You repaid Nayeon's rimjob, eating her ass as she looked out the window. She started humping her fit ass on your face while you moved your tongue inside her butthole. "Take a look at this nice ass," Nayeon says as you grab her cheeks firmly now, your head shaking to the rhythm of her ass.
You put Nayeon's right leg at the window as soon as you are done, giving you an easy entrance back into her pussy. "Oh yes," Nayeon moans as you put your cock inside her, pumping fast as soon as you get there, leading her to cling to the window's support and not fall down. "AHHHHHHHH, JUST LIKE THAT, FUCK ME. TREAT ME LIKE A WHORE, AHHHHH." Nayeon starts to scream, and it gets even louder once you reach under her and start fingering her cunt as you pound her hard. Her legs quickly get weak and fall out of the window, making it easier for you to pin her against it.
Nayeon has to hold onto the window just by one knee. As you destroy her pussy nonstop, she clings onto you, leaving her right arm in her face. But instead of caressing her, you spank her butt: "That's for you to learn not to be a whore who fucks every cock you see on your sight," you tell her. Nayeon just moans, overwhelmed by your hard pumping of her cunt: "Oh God, Oh God." For the first time, you had the upper hand over her.
"Fuck," Nayeon says as you pull out and turn her around, grabbing her by the neck. You give her a torrid kiss as she gets pinned hard against the window, with you now facing her. You take it slow, getting very passionate with her. But it doesn't take long before you go back to pound her hard, craving to destroy that tight wet cunt, as her ass and back hit the window every time you hit her with your fast thrusts, with your balls clapping hard against her clit, leading her to cling even harder into your body. "YES, YES, YES, YES, AHHHHHH," she scrams as you don't seem to be able to stop.
Nayeon starts to cum in front of you as you stop to kiss her for a long while, running your tongue all over her naughty mouth. You detach from her as you watch her body shake before getting on your knees and eating her pussy, aiding in her orgasm as her juices fly into her face. "Ahhhh, it's so good down there," Nayeon says as your tongue sticks deep inside her folds. "That mouth all over my lips, ahhhh, oh fuck, just like that," she continues as she grabs your face to bury it deeper in her cunt.
As Nayeon finishes releasing her juices in your mouth, you move back closer to the bed, calling her to follow you. It takes her a bit to arrive, as she's still recovering from her orgasm. But once she does, you let her have the bed all to herself and lie on it sensually, as she's already spreading her legs, ready for more. "Sit on that cock, sit on that cock," you demand, putting yourself on the edge of the bed.
"Like that," you say as soon as Nayeon slides inside your pole, giving you a sexy moan as soon as she does. Nayeon moans as she gets impaled, but quickly goes hard in a killer reverse cowgirl ride, gyrating in your cock as she moves up and down, her moans getting sexier as the ride goes on.
"Look at the pussy; you're stretching it so well; what an amazing cock!" Nayeon praises your big dick as she goes deeper. "I'm crazy for your fucking cock," she continues as she starts laughing as you lose your stamina and starts with her bouncing harder and harder. "Oh my God, this is amazing," you say just as Nayeon slows down and switches to deep rides that fill her entire cunt before bouncing on your cock sideways and getting even more insane.
"What a great fucking cock," Nayeon continues, enjoying the ride to the fullest. "I love the way it gets deep in my pussy," she says, going back into a fast ride that drives you crazy. "Come closer," you tell her, allowing you to thust up her pussy as you now grab her tits. "Oh my God, yes," Nayeon says as she grabs your knees and watches your legs move up and down at each thrust. Now she's the one holding her tits, pinching her nipples as you pound her faster; her laugh and her naughty tongue are always present.
Nayeon closes her eyes and puts her hands on her clit, increasing the overstimulation. Your cock and her hand are fighting to see who can fuck her faster, putting both of you on edge. "Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," you pant as you get increasingly out of breath. "OH FUCK!" she simultaneously screams, her boobs getting bouncier and bouncier until she cums again.
Nayeon stops with your cock fully impaled inside her; she spreads her pussy for you to see as she releases her juices all over your cock, then pulls out to give it a little massage with her hands, followed by her grinding on it. Nayeon places her thumb on your tip, making some cracking sounds as she massages your dick and keeps edging you, her hair all messy and covering her face. She places her pussy right at your shaft and keeps pressing it firmly with her right hand, once again playing with her favorite foreskin as she jerks you off.
As Nayeon gets off your lap, she sees your hard pole in full strangth, perfectly pointing to the sky and reaching all the way from the bottom of her pussy up to her navel. But she seems to want more, and she keeps jerking it off. Truth be told, Nayeon just loves how you suffer every time she does it and has to hang on for your dear life just to survive her edging you, as she gets very turned on and fingers her pussy simultaneously.
You stay on the edge, as Nayeon doesn't seem eager to stop at any moment, only stroking it even faster and then moving her feet to do the job. She really enjoys that tip hiding under your foreskin and then popping out full force each time. "Such a good girl; you're so fucking hot" is all you can say to her. Nayeon agrees, but a good girl needs a reward, and she's finally ready to get it.
"Stretch that pussy for me; that cunt is beautiful," you order her, doing the teasing now. Nayeon does, and you can see her dangling lips itching for that dick as they throb and wink, and she keeps touching herself until some naughty words finally come out of her mouth.
"You know what I want? I want you to cum for me, and I want it all inside," Nayeon demands. Holy shit, she's really gonna let you fill that pussy up. You go wild and stick your cock deep inside her as soon as you hear those words. "Hmmm, yes," Nayeon approves, sensing the urgency in your expressions.
Nayeon spreads her legs as your cock sticks deep in her, clinging to the pillow on the bed as you go faster on her pussy. She laughs and enjoys every second of it, moving her hips in sync with yours as you pound her and make her tits bounce hard. "Yes, pop, pop it; I know you want it," she says in between moans as she puts her hands in her neck and chokes herself, sticking her naughty tongue out.
"Keep choking yourself," you tell her, noticing it has made her pussy tighten. "Yes, fuck," she says, looking at you with begging eyes. After a while, you decide to do it yourself, placing your right hand on it while you fuck her harder. "Please, please, please, please," Nayeon begs as she waits for your cum. You get rougher on her as you start slapping her bouncy tits now and then pinching her nipples.
"You want my cum?" you ask her. "Yes, cum in me, baby," she answers, fingering her pussy and tightening her walls even further. Not even 10 seconds later, you start groaning as you finally manage to fill her up to the brim.
"Oh yes," Nayeon celebrates as she puts her legs up in the air. Your sperm starts leaking out of her pussy and filling the bedsheets. "Push it out," you tell her as she does it and laughs, spreading her pussy lips. "Oh my God, you're so fucking amazing," you tell her, still out of breath.
Nayeon tastes your cum as you put your cock back in. "I know you have more; unload the rest of it on me," she begs. Nayeon puts her hand in her mouth as her tits swing back and forth with each pump, but she can't wait for long until she screams again: "FUCK, YES, PLEASE," she says, her face fully buried on the bed's pillow now.
"Come on, give me another one," she says. "I love my pussy getting fucking covered in cum," she continues. "AHHHHH," Nayeon moans, which she muffles with the pillow on her face, her pussy tightening and leading you to unlond inside her for a second time.
You kiss her passionately shortly after, telling her how amazing she is and how much you wanted this to never end, then move down to give both her boobs a kiss as well. Nayeon is overwhelmed and in love with the way you fucked her, laughing as she opens her legs and shows you her cream-filled pussy for the last time.
"Thank you for coming into my life," you say. "Thank you," she replies. However, you guys can't even enjoy the moment for long, as your superior gives you a phone call shortly after.
"WHERE ARE YOU?" they say, as soon as you pick it up.
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 4 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: A new relationship means excitement, an uncontrollable craving for each other. When an early morning romp is interrupted with a scheduled weekly meeting, will you be able to keep your hands to yourself when Price begins to drone on? And if you can't, what will your lieutenant lover do once the meeting is over after you've tempted him for far too long?
Word Count: 7.8 k
Warnings:
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“Come on, just a quickie before you gotta go,” you try to bargain as you roll onto your knees on the mattress, moving to straddle yourself over top of Simon’s lap so that he can’t get out of your bed yet. “Promise I'll make it worth your while.”
You sit on his thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck and he grabs onto your hips with those large hands, only his boxers and your panties keeping you apart. Gently you run your fingers through the short, dirty blonde hair at the back of his head before bending down to try enchanting him with your kiss to stay a little longer before you both have to start your day. You know if you can get him going, quick is the last thing it is going to be and all you want is more time in his company. It’s getting harder these days to let him go. 
Your lips meet and he sighs long and deep as he drinks you in. This new development in your relationship is only a couple months in the making, but you already have him in a chokehold that he can't seem to break free from. Goddammit your kiss is like heaven and he wants nothing more than to shove you back into the mattress and get lost in the ecstasy of your body all over again, but obligations of the job that you have so conveniently forgotten about are fast approaching this morning. As much as he hates it, clearly he’s going to have to be the responsible one. Christ, you aren’t making it easy when your pretty eyes are begging him for more as you pull agonizingly slow from his mouth and roll your hips over top of him. 
“We can’t,” he says with an agitated groan as he bites the corner of his lips so the pain will stop him from losing it and leaning back in; if he doesn’t show some restraint now it’s not going to happen. “Officer’s meetin’, ‘member? Don’t wanna start any rumors with our absence, do ya? Rather not have to have a discussion with Price today. So, ya best stop fuckin’ lookin’ at me like that ‘fore ya get us both in trouble. Cause ya know if I get started, I ain’t stoppin’.”
Fuck, is it that time of the week again already? You’ve nearly forgotten the date, so absorbed in having the hulking military lieutenant all to yourself over the weekend. Instantly your heart sinks as you realize that your request isn’t going to get fulfilled now, not if you want to keep this relationship on the down low. No, you don’t want your good thing ruined by stirring up trouble, no matter how much your body still trembles to be beneath him right now.
Fine, your hands are tied at this point, so you’ll just have to be strong and table this till later. Or at least… you’re gonna try. 
“Just can’t get enough of you,” you say, resigning defeatedly as you move to rest your forehead on his.
Eyes shut, he takes a few seconds just to enjoy the closeness with you before he speaks. “Later,” he reassures in a husky whisper. “Not like I can fuckin’ stay away from ya.”
A warm kiss is swiftly pinned to your temple and you sigh defeatedly before you move off of him to sit at his side. He gives you a look before he gets to his feet to find his clothes strewn about the floor, dressing as you watch on with hungry eyes until his body is covered once again. Instantly you are missing the sight of it now that it’s gone. Later already feels like a lifetime away as you fall back against your pillow with a groan and cover your eyes with your arm. 
The sounds of rustling clothes and the jingling of a belt buckle lasts just a few more seconds, followed by the sound of heavy steps before you feel a depression next to you on the bed. A rough hand removes your arm from your face and you are met with those coffee eyes and cheeky smile poking out from beneath his half pulled down mask as he leans over top of you. “See ya at the meetin’, luv,” he says before leaving you with a quick kiss as he rushes to get out the door before that one small action ruins it all and he ends up getting you both caught from sticking around too long.
You watch the door shut behind him and in the silence that follows you can hear the sound of your heartbeat throbbing in your head. How are you meant to keep it together now?
Getting dressed feels like an impossible chore, but eventually you finish and arrive at the conference room with a bit of time to spare before the meeting starts. You enter the space and are immediately dragged into making small talk with a few of the others standing around the conference table, exchanging pleasantries till Price arrives. The heat in your cheeks struggles to dissipate from the morning and it is only made worse as a tall, burly figure enters a couple minutes later and makes his way to the back of the room as if it’s nothing. Your vision constantly darts over to that masked man in the corner as you chat, your pulse keeping your face hot because you can tell that he is doing the same, though the shadow created from the fabric covering his face gives him the advantage in keeping his dark eyes on you.
Trying to force his sight not to linger on you today isn’t an option, not when he can see the product of his kiss still spread through your face. It’s captivating to be in the presence of something like that belongs to only him, so why the hell would he not want to soak you all in? It’s like he is hypnotized. He hasn’t felt like this in a long, long time and to say he isn’t a little obsessed would be a complete lie. Just looking at you gets his pulse racing now and it’s almost instantaneous how he has to adjust the crotch of his pants as they have suddenly gotten a little tight as his body reacts to the sight of yours.
He’s gotta snap out of his insatiable craving right now or this meeting is going to be brutal to try and get through. Moving to the back of the table, he takes his seat to hide the bulge growing in his pants. That’s when a familiar voice rings through the room just the same as it has week after week and Simon feels like he can breathe a little easier.
“Mornin’ everyone,” the distinct voice of your superior is heard over the small crowd. “Let’s get started, shall we. Got things to do.”
Captain Price doesn’t waste any time, arriving precisely on the hour just as he always does and everyone immediately takes their seats just like clockwork. Good, now all he has to do is get through the hour and then you’ll go your separate ways until the end of the day. However, as he looks on as the chairs around the table get filled, he realizes that your usual seat towards the front already has a body sitting in it that isn’t yours and the only free chair left is at the back of the table right next to him.
Your eyes meet and your breath hitches as you see the empty spot beside him and it feels like you can’t get enough oxygen as you make your way over; no sense in prolonging your agony. Simon’s shoulders stiffen as you take your seat, the tension caused from your proximity making his mind hazy, even before Price begins to drone on about nothing of major significance. It’s all just daily reports and mandated updates from around the base, so it doesn’ take long before it all becomes background noise to the beating of his heart in his ears. 
You aren’t fairing any better as your mind begins to wander and it’s in that loss of attention that the trouble starts to brew. 
Sensory-filled memories of the past couple of nights play through your mind on repeat: sweaty, tangled limbs, burning kisses that steal your breath, ecstasy filling you up until all you can do is lay back and let it consume you; it’s the type of euphoria that could make you an addict if you're not careful enough. The vivid sensations associated with the images flooding through your mind chip away at your calm so that about halfway in your sanity has deteriorated. 
You cross your knees over one another and clamp your legs together to stop the ache blossoming between your thighs, but it does nothing to help. You have to do something to ease the agony because you cannot squeeze your legs together any tighter or the danger of you accidentally letting out a moan will become a real threat. Desperately your eyes dart around the room to try and focus on anything in particular, but there is nothing that grabs their attention until they stop back at the table in front of you and out of the corner of your sight you notice the top of Simon's thigh peeking out from under the table. Those juicy bits of his body that you know intimately as they have been pressed between your legs before are a magnet for your sight and suddenly there is a need that is awakened in you.
Fuck, now you have a new problem. The longer you look, the harder it gets. Imagination isn't enough anymore. Shoving your hands into the tight space between your crossed legs you try to bury the feeling, but your desire pleads with you to reach over and get a feel.
Just a little touch won’t hurt, right? 
He probably won’t even notice if you are careful enough, at least that's what you try to convince yourself of so you don't sound so fucking desperate. Maybe giving yourself a little treat will help ease the pain enough that you can move on. As Simon leans back in his chair, trying to adjust his position to keep himself focused on Price, you take that as a sign that you should just go for it.  
Simon notices the way you shift in your seat, inching in closer to the edge of the chair nearest his side. You pause for a few seconds before he catches you moving again and now your shoulders are almost touching. He wonders what you’re up to getting this intimate, but just as the question enters his mind more movement grabs his attention and he watches as you lean in and your shoulder twitches. Then he feels it, a delicate bit of pressure on his thigh that immediately sends him spiraling.
You have reached over and are now running your fingertips over the outer seam on the leg of his pants, but the moment you make the slightest contact with him a yearning blossoms in your chest so strong that you can’t stop yourself and your fingers begin to wander thoughtlessly. Soon you find your touch on the outer edge of his thigh and then the middle and still you can’t force yourself to stop.  
Simon risks a look down into the shadow underneath the table only to see your arm stretched out and your hand creeping in towards the middle of his lap. He pries his sight back up and catches you peeking over at him from the corner of your eye. Your gazes meet and your chest begins to rise and fall more heavily than it had a few seconds ago as you shoot him a tempting look.
Oh, so this is what’s going to happen today; his strength of will is going to be tested. Fuck.
Carefully and quietly, Simon repositions himself in his seat. Without turning his face at all, he inclines his head to the side so that it is nearly pressed against yours. “Ya sure ya wanna start this?” he growls his question in a whisper near your ear, yet he does nothing else as he sits back up straight. 
Your hand continues on undeterred and makes it in between his thighs without any resistance; it’s clear that neither of you were finished with what was trying to be started this morning as a small peak already meets your hand before you’ve even done anything.   
Simon exhales a shaky breath as your hand makes contact with the crotch of his pants and it takes all his willpower to hold steady as you run your hand over the mound just under the zipper. Thank God he’s wearing his jacket today, otherwise the way his chest starts to heave with each labored breath as you stroke your palm consistently over the swell would give him away to everyone here. Behind the mask, his mouth hangs open slightly as he forces himself to quietly pant as if under duress. 
Being this close to him, you can hear the change in his breathing and those subtle deviations in his respiration guide your movements further. You press down and he has to bite his lip until he tastes that first bit of copper to keep himself under control. And yet he doesn't pull your hand away… because he doesn't want to. His pretty thing needs to feel him, he isn’t going to deny that. It’s a risk, but it’s one he is more than willing to take just to keep you locked in this moment with him.
Over and over you go in with insatiable intent, stroking until the tip of his thick cock throbs with his pulse against your touch as a throbbing of your own. The sound of your captain is barely a faint whisper at this point as all of your  awareness is focused solely in the silent tension shared between you and your lover as your hand draws him closer and closer to release just from the pressure alone. 
The tingle in his lap radiates out in waves that make his limbs feel heavy and causes a cold sweat to break out across his skin and just as Simon thinks that he can’t take a second more of stimulation because he’s going to burst, the meeting finally comes to an end. Quickly you have to pull your hand back out of his lap as your fellow officers’ attentions are no longer focused towards the front of the room and you pray that they can’t see the way your body shudders. 
You don’t dare get out of your seat yet; at this point your legs are like jelly and you are sure that if you try to stand you will make a fool of yourself by stumbling around. Instead, you pull out your phone to pretend you are making a note of something important as everyone leisurely files out until all that is left is you and Simon in the empty room. 
He hasn’t said a word since his cautionary question, instead moving out of his seat the moment he could to lean up against the wall near the door with his arms crossed over his broad chest. The last person makes it out and yet he’s still standing there soundlessly as if he is waiting for something, his shadowed gaze locked onto your form. 
Eventually you calm yourself enough to make it out of your seat and back onto your feet without falling. You take a few steps to leave and you nearly make it out of the room before the door is promptly pushed shut in your face and Simon places himself directly between you and the exit. Instantly you are stopped in your tracks and you stand there curiously as that familiar click from the lock being engaged is heard and the room falls silent, not even the sound of people coming and going can be heard on this side of the door. 
“What was that, hmm?” he asks in fake anger, his bright eyes giving him away even with the mask covering the majority of his features.
You shrug. “What are we talking about?” you ask in return with a tilt of your head. Ever the little actress, it seems.
He chuckles deeply as a spark flashes through the irises of his eyes to make them shine the way an animal’s does before it goes in for the kill. You know exactly what that look means. “Playin’ games, are ya?” he asks. “Or did ya already forget the way you were just tryin’ to make me come?”
“Is there a problem?” you ask back as the corner of your lip upturns ever so subtly. 
He takes a step towards you and you move back with it; another and you do the same. This continues only a few more paces until you run out of space and back into the edge of the table, allowing Simon to move in without a problem until his body is within a few feet of yours. Reaching out with one of those large hands he wraps it around your wrist and pulls your arm forward into him. 
“Oh, we ‘ave a big fuckin’ problem now, sweet,” he groans as he takes your hand and pins the palm just to the side of the zipper on his pants. You don’t even have to look down to know what he’s talking about as there is a hard, stiff peak that meets your touch; the tip of his cock strains against your hand as he presses your palm down over it. “See what ya did?” 
An unintentional moan escapes your lips at the feeling that you try to disguise with a cough, but Simon has already caught it. With a hook of his thumb under the cloth of his mask, he pries it up off of his mouth and in the same motion he jerks your arm past his body to pull you in the miniscule distance still between you both so that you are now plastered to his chest. Since his mask isn’t an issue anymore, his hand captures your chin in its grip and he holds on firmly. 
The intense domination of the movement feels like an ambush on your sanity and with that one simple motion he already has your heart fluttering just like he wants. You’ve played your little game and gotten him riled up, and it’s got him craving you so bad he can hardly keep his thoughts straight. Now it’s his turn at it and he isn’t going to stop until he has chipped away at your resolve so that you want him just as badly. 
Keeping his grip tight on your chin he cocks your head to the side to move it out of his way as he leans his face in towards the soft, tender skin that has been revealed to him just under your jawline. 
“Now, how’re we gonna fix this? Can’t go ‘round wit this thing at full attention,” his balmy breath travels over your skin as his lips rub along the side of your neck, the tip of his nose catching that sweet spot just behind your earlobe. 
The very faint stumble covering the lower half of his face prickles your skin as he presses his lips against you gently at first to let the feather-light pressure tantalize the flesh around that pulsing vein under your jawbone. He can feel it begin to race under his touch the quicker your heart pumps and he has to force himself to take a breath. To observe the physical reaction you have to him, to feel the way you come alive in his hands, it’s enough to bring him to his knees and if he isn’t careful he can easily lose himself.     
“Ya owe me–” he trails his kisses upward until his lips are pressed along your jaw “for–” those heated kisses keep going over the contour until he hovers right over your mouth, lips ghosting over yours just out of reach “–all that teasin’.”
You attempt to move in and collapse the distance between your mouths to zero, but his hold on your face keeps you at bay. Again you struggle to embrace his mouth and again he pulls you back and it’s clear what the game is now. If you want his kiss on your lips, you are going to have to meet his conditions. 
“What do you want?” you ask coyly as if there is anything else that he could possibly be after at this moment. 
Simon runs the tip of his stout tongue over the middle of his bottom lip as he stares at yours, the skin on your mouth growing redder with each erratic inhale of breath you take, before he drifts his gaze back up the short distance to your eyes. He admires how they shimmer with unspoken wants as he meets them again. 
You know full well that the door is locked, Simon is certain you heard him secure it since you were close. That means you both are cut off from the rest of the base while in here and with the meeting over, there is no reason for anyone to come around. The room is yours for as long as you want.
“Well, we’re all alone, luv,” he says. 
“Mmhmm,” you agree as if he’s asked a question.
Taking both his hands, he cradles the back of your head as his thumbs rest against your cheeks and he takes a step so that his hips block your body against the table. He inches in ever so carefully, making sure that his lips will not touch yours, but be just close enough that the agony caused from their proximity will make you fucking burn to feel them. It’s a game that he has perfected over his time with you and one he prides himself on being the master of. 
“Ya know what I fuckin’ want.” 
The heat from his warm breath wafts over your lips to make them tingle from the change in temperature. This close you can finally catch the scent of his natural musk mixing with the sharp notes of his spicy cologne and the smell reminds you of your sheets where the fragrance still lingers. It is overwhelming your senses until you feel delirious and out of control. 
“Wanna take ya on this fuckin’ table,” he breathes into your face in a growl the comes from somewhere deep inside. “Can’t wait.”
His voice is pure sex on a good day, but in these moments when his full attention is on you as he plays up the sultry notes of his tone to match his growing need, you can’t help the way you squeeze your legs together as a shudder of pleasure runs like icy water straight through to your core. 
“Undo - your - pants,” he orders, his deep, heavily accented voice breathy, but firm. “Now.”
Your pulse is pounding in your ears with your short, quick breaths and he takes the moment to tempt you further by having the tip of his tongue gracefully slither out of his mouth to catch the edge of your upper lip, lightly grazing the inner bit so that you shiver and it takes all your strength not to buckle at your knees and stumble in his grasp.  
Finally gaining control of your limbs through the haze spreading in your mind you move your hands over your abdomen, using touch alone to find the fastener at the front of your pants as he holds your head in place, forcing you to keep your eyes focused on him. Finally you locate the button and as swiftly as your shaky fingers can manage, you fidget with it till it opens and you can guide down the zipper. 
A ravenous grin spreads across Simon’s lips at the sound of your clothes being shed. It’s Pavlovian the way it immediately makes his mouth salivate with anticipation as he knows that soon he is about to enjoy a feast that includes all your delicious curves ready and begging for his special brand of ecstasy.
You’ve done what he’s asked and now you desperately want your reward, but you should know by now it isn’t going to be that easy. He is a man of mutual obsession and you’ve only barely just started to ache with the overwhelming intensity that he wants; he needs you in shambles just like he’s had to be this whole time as you stroked him under the table.  
“Please,” you plead tacitly as multiple words seem too cumbersome to have in your mouth.
Simon shakes his head. “Not yet. Push ‘em down,” he demands. “Take ‘em off.”   
You scramble to follow his dictation and grab onto the waistband of your pants, jerking them down over the curve of your rear and continuing until they are past your calves, slipping out of your boots so that you can step out of the fabric now bunched at your ankles. You stand back up straight and immediately those rough fingers are outlining the band on your panties just below the hem of your shirt and each time they graze over the tender skin of your pelvis, you gasp inaudibly into his face as the electricity from his touch makes your skin tingle. 
As one hand plays, the other that is cradled at the base of your skull draws your face to him. “Ya got me wantin’ ya so bad it fuckin’ stings,” he admits. “Is that what ya want, sweetheart? Ya want me a goddamn mess wheneva you’re around?”
His thumb tugs at the corner of your mouth as he drags it over your bottom lip and the action takes your breath so you have to forcefully catch it. “I want you to want me as bad as I want you,” you answer as your heartbeat hiccups in your chest.
Simon chuckles. “Greedy girl,” he says, drawing out the words, his voice getting more and more gravely. “Ya know how fuckin’ hard I was strugglin’ to not just throw ya on the table and take right there in front a everyone? Ya got me outta my goddamn mind insane for ya with just a touch.”
You look up at him with starry eyes, the kind of sight that makes him feel like you think he’s hung the fucking moon for you. “Take…me now…” you beg.
He can feel you tremble in his hands as you plead for your sanity and it pushes him to his breaking point. “That what ya want?” he asks. “Let me hear it, sweet.”
You nod without even having to think about it. “Please, Simon. Please. I haven’t stopped needin you since this morning. Just give it to me.”
Fuckin’ hell he is going to absolutely wreck you after that.
Tilting his head to one side he moves in and with a sharp inhale of breath before the plunge, he hauls your mouth to his and crashes his lips on yours. The deadly potency in his embrace knocks the little bit of air you just drew in from your lungs and in an instant you are left gasping for breath again while not wanting him to pull away.  
That huge, hulking body with all of its bulky muscles overwhelms your own as he pins himself harder against you, pushing your hips together to grind that stiff peak roughly against you with rocking movements, hips rolling into you again and again until you join him as your frantic fingers rip the jacket off his shoulders and down his arm so that you can feel his skin under your hands.   
His mouth is insatiable, stealing sloppy, desperate kisses one after another until your lips burn from the abrasion. The contrast between the rough way he embraces you with the delicately smooth feel of his lips is a sensory overload in the best way. Those long fingers of both of his hands are now tangled in the strands of your hair at the back of your head, not wanting to give you the chance to get away from the harshness of his lips as he claims your mouth as his. 
You match his energy and your fingers find the hem of his mask that still clings to his face and you slip them up underneath to pry it off the rest of the way so that you can caress the back of his head and make him buckle from the shiver as you run your fingertips over his scalp. He holds you tighter as a blunt grunt of pleasure vibrates up from his chest and he breathes it into your open mouth for you to swallow down. He is so caught up in the passion of the moment that he nips aggressively at your lower lip until you gasp as it stings so good. 
The warmth from his breath tingles along the raw skin of your mouth as he buries his nose in your cheek the harder he pushes in. No matter how close you are, it isn’t enough; he wants…no he needs to be closer. He isn’t sure yet if he likes being the type of man that goes feral with an insatiable appetite for his lover, but if you are going to be greedy with wanting his attention he is going to be greedy in the way he reciprocates it.
You are suddenly on the move as Simon easily slides his strong hands up under your arms and picks you up to set you on top of the sturdy table, tugging behind your knees to pull you forward so that you are at the very edge of the surface. You hadn’t realized how warm you are until the instant the cool table touches the bare skin on the back of your legs.
A hum vibrates in his chest as he rubs the length of your thighs before he lockes his hands around them to pry them apart and moving in with his palm, he slides it up into the crotch of your panties and cups his wide hand up over your sex.
“F-fuck,” you whimper as he presses down to pin your lips up into your clit. “I need…I need…”
“Whatcha need, sweet?” he asks through panting breaths as he pulls back and pushes in again, making you squeak out a high pitched whine. “Tell me, use your words.”
You swallow hard. “Need… your fingers…” you struggle to say as he does the same maneuver again.
“Does that sweet little clit need my attention?” he asks. “Achin’ for my touch? Ya think I should jus’ give it to ya after the mess ya made a me when I couldn’t even get at ya yet?”
He keeps his hand pinned down and the pressure makes your hips buck in reaction. “I know… I know…” you stammer out the sloppy confession as you fight to create any words at all. “Couldn’t help it.”
If he had been in a more calm state, he would have liked to tell you to get yourself started to see how you’d follow his directions, and then if you did a good enough job he would come in, but Simon wants to feel you just as much as you crave his touch. The strangle you have on his sanity is making him lose it fast and there isn’t much time he is going to be able to spare, but even in his inebriated state as he slowly drowns in your ecstasy, his mind concocts a devilish plan. 
Maybe he can have both his cake and finger it too.
Suddenly he takes your hand in his, wrapping his larger one over top while making you match the way his two middle fingers stick out with yours, and forces them both to descend down the tingling skin of your lower abdomen into the front of your underwear as he rests against you with foreheads touching. Working your combined fingers in tandem, Simon parts through the lips of your pussy and moves both sets right up against that tiny bundle of nerves just above your core.
“Already wet, pretty girl?” he groans with a hiss as his finger makes contact with a bit of warm moisture once inside. “Not enough, though. I want ya fuckin’ drippin’ for me. And we’re gonna do this how I want. Now we’re gonna make ya a mess so I don’t feel so alone.”
It hasn’t left his mind that this isn’t the safest place to be, that even though the room is only used on those weekly occasions when Price gathers his personnel to keep everyone up to speed, even though the space is vacated and the door locked, there is no guarantee that someone won’t try and get in. He has to be quick, but he is going to do this right. 
Simon expertly guides your finger over your clit in that very distinct way that he does it, rubbing in concise circles over the nub with both of your fingers, using a bit of light pressure as your knees fall apart to give him more access and it doesn’t take long until your mouth falls open so that all those pretty sounds can escape unhindered just as you know he likes.
Their sound only adds fuel to his desire. Having him pilot your movements, forcing you to pleasure yourself under his control, adds another level of euphoria that he had not previously thought possible. Fuck, does he feel powerful to take you like this, both of you working together until your wetness dribbles down his fingers as the heat warms his hand.  
His face is so close to yours that he can use your breath to fill his lungs as he runs out of air; the only thing he wants to sustain his life at this moment. Breathing you in, tasting you, feeling you; he only wants to be consumed by you like a man possessed. He has never needed anyone in the way he needs you and the more he causes you to sing, the more he has to be sure that no one else can ever satisfy you the way that he can. It’s his mission now to completely ruin you for anyone else.
Your legs start to shake as the pressure continues to build from the sensitivity and your calves crush his hips as a pitiful whimper you let out sends him over the edge and drives him insane in his already weakened state. There is no stopping the feral part of his brain from taking over to guide his movements and suddenly your clit isn’t the only thing he wants to play with; he needs to fill you.
You can feel your hand on the move, slithering down until the tips of both your fingers reach your entrance. And quickly they ascend up into you to stretch you out as your legs vibrate, the flood of blood to your cheeks making your face burn like you’re on fire as he keeps shoving up inside until he reaches the amalgamation of your combined knuckles. He keeps his eyesight down to watch the way your hands make your panties bulge as your pussy is filled with the both of you.
The unexpected fullness causes your back to arch and your head to fall back as you struggle to stifle a desperately loud cry from being stretched. Instantly Simon drags your head up and harshly connects your lips with overwhelming savagery to stop the sound from getting out, sucking it down his throat with his mouth pressed to you so securely as you continue to groan in short bursts until you finally are able to calm yourself enough to keep your volume down.  
Your body grips both of your fingers tight as he begins to rhythmically work at your G spot with rough and intense movements, unable to calm down. The harder he goes the more dampness covers the fingers inside you and it drips down onto the back of his hand and begins to stick to the inside of your thighs. Your walls flutter around his fingers the more they swell and that lets him know that you’re close. His pulse is racing to feel it, that moment you come; no single sensation ever gives him more pleasure than being the reason you fall apart.
Your hips begin to grind onto your hands for more friction. “Fuck…fuck…” you mutter in agony under your breath. It’s nearly there, just a bit more. 
Stroking and grinding, stroking and grinding, it feels like an eternity stuck at the edge of that cliff as the warmth gathering in the pit of your stomach grows in intensity, but suddenly and without warning, like a wave washing over you, that warmth reaches its peak and shoots through you as you fall over the edge.  
Simon makes you ride out your orgasm on your fingers until you settle and only then does he gently pull your hands out from your still quivering core and up out of your panites, never letting you go. He holds them up and your fingers glisten with the product of his work under the fluorescent lighting. After taking a few seconds just to admire the way they look he locks eyes with you and holds your gaze as he brings those coated digits on your hand straight up to his mouth and sucks them inside that wet cavern. He uses his tongue to swirl around your fingers to clean them, sucking on them thoroughly to get all the taste of you off and you nearly faint from the erotic nature of his action. 
The way he has no shame when it comes to enjoying every bit of you is staggering to behold. He is insatiable and you can’t get enough.
Giving your hand back, Simon steps up right against you between your legs as his hand slips between your bodies and he shifts his hips slightly so that he can undo his belt buckle, then the button on his jeans, and finally pull down the zipper. Sticking his hand inside the shadowed recesses of his boxers, he pulls out and releases that thick, veiny appendage that has been throbbing for far too long without relief. It stands at attention and bobs with his pulse, a mouth-watering view of all that girth ready just for you. 
The knuckle of his finger bushes over your still overly sensitive cunt as he hooks the digit into the seam at the crotch of your ruined panties and jerks them to the side out of his way before the tip of his cock presses into your petals. So slowly he guides himself past that first barrier in through your lips and carefully he strokes his cock in your cum, coating himself in the heated moisture his touch produced. 
Calloused fingers suddenly divide through the strands of your hair at the back of your head so that his grip is securely woven into you as the others dig into your hip. “You drive me wild, pretty girl,” he says with covetous aggression, “but if ya ain’t careful, I may not be able to contain myself like I did today. So unless ya want me ta fuck ya in front a everyone, you’re gonna wait till we’re alone to start things, yeah?”
You nod in agreement.
“Then I’ll make sure ta get ya so fuckin’ good,” he whispers as he pulls out just enough so that he adjust himself to align his swollen tip with your entrance. “Won’t let ya go till you’re satisfied, promise.” 
He prods against the opening, pushing up against it until you feel drunk on the feeling of anticipation as you wait impatiently for when he finally thrusts hard enough to get all that girth in. “Lift your hips,” he hurriedly demands and you lean back on your hands to help angle your pelvis upward.
Those coffee-colored eyes meet yours one last time as his hand gives your hair a tug. “Let’s finish this right, yeah?” he breathes and his hips snap forward as he pulls yours down.
The moment the tip breaks through the threshold of your body you both involuntarily share a gasp between your open mouths. You are so wet and clearly more than ready to take him, but he still has to pace himself getting in or else he’s going to come before he’s had a chance to really fuck you good. Still your body sucks him in every single inch he gives you until he reaches the base of his shaft where he pauses. 
The width of his cock pushes against your walls until they form around the contours perfectly and his hand on your hip burrows harder into the skin in an attempt to let any other feeling get through the overwhelming sensation of being inside you so that he can last. He focuses back on your face where your eyes are shut tight and something about that just won’t do. He wants those blown-out pupils that rest behind closed lids to be fixated on him as if he is the only thing in the entire fuckin’ world that you crave to look at.
Because you are the only thing in his.  
“Eh, eyes on me, sweet,” he growls desperately to get your attention back. “Need ta fuckin’ see ‘em. That’s it, just like that.”
You open your eyes and your aching gaze renders Simon speechless. How in the fuck did he get so lucky to call you his and why in the hell didn’t he make that happen sooner? Without any more of a pause he begins to thrust in and out of you with a ferocity that makes your body burn as his desire overtakes him. Each stroke stretches you out more until the sting subsides and all that’s left is the satisfying euphoria that comes with being filled so full.
Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you to the brim on all of his passion for your body as the sound of slapping skin against skin fills the silent space, accentuated by the sound of threads snapping as your panties are stretched to the point of ripping. Panting heavily into your face with mouth open, chest heaving up and down with laborious breaths, Simon unleashes himself upon you.
“Fuck,” he says, jaw hanging slack with desire, “wish ya could see how pretty ya look right now.”
Harder and harder he thrusts into you until the table begins to rock with him as he shoves his fat cock as far up into you it almost hits the back of your cervix. He desperately tries to keep the pace even, but it is reaching the point of no return.  
“Ya feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he stutters with a groan low and guttural as he starts the feel that pressure again building at the base of his spine, ready to shoot through him at any second of he keeps this up. “So fuckin’ good. Can’t ever get enough of ya.”
You buck against him, meeting his movements with your own as you use your legs wrapped around his hips as leverage. The risky nature of your triste barely registers anymore as the stimulation from his cock hitting that sweet spot over and over again inside you clouds all your thoughts except one: the need to come. And it is fast approaching the longer he goes until it is right fucking there; all he has to do is keep going.
“Shit, don’t stop Simon,” you plead in distress to him, your toes curling into the air as you focus on your erratic breathing. 
“Tha’s it, sweet, come for me,” he growls, “Come all over my fuckin’ cock.” 
His pace is relentless as he pumps with those powerful thrusts that bury him deep within you, unyielding and relentless with his need to render you completely satisfied. And just like that everything comes to a head with a shudder as your orgasm rockets through you fiery hot, making your body writhe in his grasp. You squeak out in a whine before you clamp your lips together tight to make sure you can stay as quiet as you can as you ride out the depth of your pleasure on his cock. God, it doesn’t stop, second after second it just keeps building stronger and stronger. Simon does not let up and soon you are whining from the over-stimulation.
He isn’t far behind though and it doesn’t take many more strong thrusts until the warmth that had been building to this point twice now finally shoots through his body, coursing like a burning river of fire through his veins as he rips his cock out of you and through your thighs as he pulls up your shirt over your tits to cover your stomach in sticky semen as he comes hard.
Leaning forward, Simon opens his mouth and latches it fully onto your collarbone through the fabric of your shirt, digging his teeth into the muscle to keep himself quiet as he milks himself dry with your thighs. He grinds up into those juicy bits of your legs as he grunts laboriously into the muscle of your shoulder so that it vibrates from the intensity while his wide hips continue rolling upward until he has nothing left to give and his shoulders slump forward with exhaustion as he comes to a stop.   
The muscles of his arms are shaking as he releases your shoulder from his mouth. “Goddamn, sweetheart,” he says out of breath, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close, “I ain’t ever been to a meetin’ that ended this way, but Christ should they.” 
You chuckle as you incline up into his face to catch his mouth in your embrace. Releasing his lips, you are met with a contented smile as he strokes your cheek sweetly with his thumb. You both know you need leave, you’ve spent too much time here already, but Simon just can’t let you go. At least, not yet. Not when you look so good in that post-coital hazy state of bliss that it makes his heart flutter.  
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fictionadventurer · 1 year
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I have to talk about Chester Arthur. His story makes me go crazy. A mediocre president from the 1880s who's completely forgotten today has one of the best redemption stories I've ever heard and I need to make people understand just how cool his story is.
So, like, he starts out as this idealist, okay? He's the son of an abolitionist minister and becomes famous as a New York lawyer who defends the North's version of Rosa Parks whose story desegregates New York City's trolley system.
Then he starts getting pulled into politics and becomes one of the grimiest pieces of the political machine. He wants money, power, prestige, and he gets it. He becomes the right-hand man of Roscoe Conkling, the most feared political boss in the nation, a guy who will throw his weight around and do the most ruthless things imaginable to keep his friends in power and destroy his enemies.
Because Arthur's this guy's top lackey, he gets to be Controller of the Port of New York--the best-paying political appointment in the country, because that port brings in, like, 70% of the federal government's funds in tariffs. He gets a huge salary plus a percentage of all the fines they levy on lawbreakers, and because he's not afraid to make up infractions to fine people over, he is absolutely raking in the dough. Making the rough equivalent of $1.3 million a year--absolutely insane amounts of money for a government position. He's spending ridiculous sums on clothes, buying huge amounts of alcohol and cigars to share with people as part of his job recruiting supporters to the party, going out nearly every night to wine and dine people as part of his work in the political machine. He's living the high life. Even when President Hayes pulls him from his position on suspicions of fraud, he's still living a great life of wealth, power, and prestige.
Then in 1880, his beloved wife dies. While he's out of town working for a political campaign. And he can't get back in time to say goodbye before she dies. Because he's a guy who has big emotions, it absolutely tears him up inside, especially because Nell resented how much his political work kept him away from home. He has huge regrets, but he just moves in with Roscoe Conkling and keeps working for the political machine.
And then he gets a chance to be vice president. The Republican Party has nominated James Garfield, a dark horse candidate who wants to reform the spoils system that has given Conking his power and gave Arthur his position as Port Controller. Conkling is pissed, and he controls New York, and since the party's not going to win the election without New York, they think that appointing Conkling's top lackey as vice-president will pacify him.
They're wrong--Conkling orders Arthur to refuse--but Arthur thinks this sounds like a great opportunity. The only political position he's ever held is Port Controller--a job he wasn't elected to and that he was pulled from in disgrace. Vice President is way more than he could ever have hoped for. It's a position with a lot of political pull and zero actual responsibilities. He'll get to spend four years living in up in Washington high society. It's the perfect job! Of course he accepts, and Conkling comes around when he figures out that he can use this to his advantage.
When Garfield becomes president, Arthur does everything he can to undermine him. He uses every dirty political trick he can think of to block everything that Garfield wants to do. He refuses to let the Senate elect a president pro tempore so he can stay there and influence every bill that comes through. He all but openly boasts of buying votes in the election. He's so much Conkling's lackey that he may as well be the henchman of a cartoon supervillain. On Conkling's orders, he drags one of Garfield's Cabinet members out of bed in the middle of the night--while the guy is ill--to drag him to Conkling's house so he can be forced to resign. He's just absolutely a thorn in the president's side, a henchman doing everything he can to maintain the corrupt spoils system.
Then in July 1881, when Arthur's in New York helping Conkling's campaign, the president gets shot. By a guy who shouts, "Now Arthur will be president!" just after he fires the gun. Arthur has just spent the past four months fighting the president tooth and nail. Everyone thinks he's behind the assassination. There are lynch mobs looking to take out him and Conkling. The papers are tearing him apart.
Arthur is absolutely distraught. He rushes to Washington to speak with the president and assure him of his innocence, but the doctors won't let him in the room. He gets choked up when talking to the First Lady. Reporters find him weeping in his house in Washington. Once again, death has torn his world apart and he's not getting a chance to make amends.
Arthur goes to New York while the president is getting medical treatment, and he refuses to come to Washington and take charge because he doesn't dare to give the impression that he's looking to take over. No one wants Arthur to be president and he doesn't want to be president, and the possibility that this corrupt political lackey is about to ascend to the highest office in the land is absolutely terrifying to everyone.
Then in August, when it's becoming clear that the president is unlikely to recover, he gets a letter. From a 31-year-old invalid from New York named Julia Sand. A woman from a very politically-minded family who has been following Arthur's career for years. And she writes him this astounding letter that takes him to task for his corrupt, conniving ways, and the obsession with worldly power and prestige that has brought him wealth and fame at the cost of his own soul--and she tells him that he can do better. In the midst of a nationwide press that's tearing him apart, this one woman writes to tell him that she believes he has the capacity to be a good president and a good man if he changes his ways.
And then he does. After Garfield dies, people come to Arthur's house and find servants who tell them that Arthur is in his room weeping like a child (I told you he had big emotions), but he takes the oath of office and ascends to the presidency. And he becomes a completely different man. His first speech as president mentions that one of his top priorities is reforming the spoils system so that people will be appointed based on merit rather than getting appointed as political favors with each change in the administration. Even though this system made him president. When Conkling comes to Arthur's office telling him to appoint his people to important government positions, Arthur calls his demands outrageous, throws him out, and keeps Garfield's appointees in the positions. "He's not Chet Arthur anymore," one of his former political friends laments. "He's the president."
He loses all his former political friends. He's never trusted by the other side. Yet he sticks to his guns and continues to support spoils system reform. He prosecutes a postal service corruption case that everyone thought he would drop. He's the one who signs into law the first civil service reform bill, even though presidents have been trying to do this for more than ten years, and he's the person who's gained all his power through the spoils system. He immediately takes action to enforce this bill when he could have just dropped it. He becomes a champion of this issue even though it's the last thing anyone would have expected of him.
He oversees naval reform. He oversees a renovation of the White House. He still prefers the social duties of the presidency, but he's respectable in a way that no one expected. Possibly because Julia Sand keeps sending him letters of encouragement and advice over the next two years. But also because he's dying.
Not long after ascending to the presidency, he learns he's suffering from a terminal kidney disease. And he tells no one. He keeps going about his daily life, fulfilling his duties as president, and keeps his health problems hidden. Once again, death is upending his life, and this time it's his own death. He's lived a life he's ashamed of, and he doesn't have much time left to change. He enters the presidency as an example of the absolute worst of the political system, and leaves it as a respectable man.
He makes a token effort to seek re-election, but because of his health problems, he doesn't mind at all when someone else gets the nomination. He dies a couple of years after leaving office. The day before his death, he orders most of his papers burned, because he's ashamed of his old life--but among the things that are saved are the letters from Julia Sand, the woman who encouraged him to change his ways.
This is an astounding story full of so many twists and turns and dramatic moments. A man who falls from idealism into the worst kind of corruption and then claws his way back up to decency because of a series of devastating personal losses and unexpected opportunities to do more than he could have ever hoped to do. I just go crazy thinking about it and I need you all to understand just how amazing this story is.
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sardonic-the-writer · 8 months
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𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ warnings: mentions of cannibalism and porn
↳ song: hit the road jack—ray charles
↳ notes: i can't believe i'm posting this (derogatory)
masterlist | commissions | carrd
• You had decided to move into the hotel after a particularly flashy poster caught your eye
• You were just walking to your run down apartment from a shift at your work, messing with the frayed ends of your sleeves, when a burst of neon red and yellow entered your field vision
• It was a poorly drawn advertisement colored head to toe in bright hues and glitter, advertising a hotel that would offer you a shot of getting out of hell
• With a shrug and a tug of the poster, you slipped it off the brick wall and into your pocket
• It’s not like you had anything else going on, and a free room was a free room. Besides; if the redemption thing turned out to be real, that would just be an added bonus
• Upon arriving at the doorstep of the hotel a few days later with a duffel bag in hand and the other rapping against the front door, you were nearly knocked over by a thin demon with red cheeks excitedly asking if you were there to check in
• “Oh my gosh hi! How are you! Because you look amazing and oh my gosh I’m so happy you’ve decided to check in!” She all but shouted in your ear. Cringing slightly, you leaned away from her embrace to slip inside
• “I’m guessing you don’t get a lot of guests?” You asked slowly as she closed the door behind you, some nearby dust stirring up at the action. The inside looked to empty to be a hotel
• “Nope!”
• Your first sign that you were getting more than you had bargained for should have been the sound of scuttling feet as a small demon made her way across your feet to impale a bug on her claws. She was lightly scolded for ‘accidently frightening our new addition’ before running off with the insect
• "Sorry about that! Nifty is really passionate about her job." The demon next to you laughed nervously. You just shifted your weight and nodded awkwardly in response
• Looking a few feet over to the living area, there was a lanky fellow covered in fuzz and lounging on a sad looking couch. He was flicking through channels on a T.V. You caught them occasionally landing on one and laughing before moving on, never staying entertained for too long
• The demon caught your eye, and waved two of his four hands at you in a lazy greeting
• “Oh, that’s Angel Dust! Our other resident." The woman, you now knew as Charlie, fussed. “He’s been with us for a few months, and has shown incredible progress! Something I’m sure you will find yourself doing!” She bounced on the balls of her feet happily while steering you around by the shoulders
• “Uh huh.” You couldn’t help but nod slowly, only now noticing that the channels Angel had been focusing on were blasting various types of porn shows
• A hasty tour was promptly carried out through the rest of the building. You were shown different rooms, all in various states of decay, while simultaneously meeting the other hotel inhabitants
• A fierce lady with a spear— Vaggie, as she had been introduced as —didn’t seem too up for conversation, only giving Charlie a peck on the cheek and you a suspicious glare before climbing a pair of stairs to take care of something else
• Back downstairs, the local bartender didn’t even bother to look at you, instead mumbling something under his breath while playing cards with a snake like demon
• “Don’t take it to heart. Husk is a big sweetheart, really.” Charlie waved at you with a closed eye smile, missing the way that Husk flipped her off grumpily. “And that’s Sir Pentious over there! Besides Angel Dust, and now you I guess, he’s our only guest.”
• The snake simply offered a loud and hissing hello before demanding with theatrical outrage that Husk was cheating. At least you think it was theatrical outrage. He seemed high strung either way
• But by far, the most memorable staff member you met on the tour was a tall demon with a red suit and fluffy ears; the likes of which you and Charlie had barged in on as he ate a plate of what looked like flesh. Whether animal, or something else, you couldn’t tell
• “Finally, this is our facility manager, Alastor! He helps out with all kinds of things here, and will be a key element in your redeeming process.” Your cheery guide announced. She seemed to ignore the slight tension in the air as the other member in the room smiled tightly, but the feeling disappeared as the tall demon stood up in greeting
• “Why Charlie!” Alastor’s voice crackled with heavy static, reminding you of audio from a gramophone. Or perhaps one of those old fashioned radio’s. “If I knew we were having company, I would have made myself more presentable!” He chuckled without ever looking anywhere but you
• You had to tilt your head up to look at him completely. There wasn’t a wrinkle on his suit, and every one of his hairs sat perfectly on his head. Even his monocle appeared to be freshly polished
• “Presentable.” You said slowly and without emotion, aware of Alastor’s highetened gaze on you. “Right.”
• Charlie was quick to get you to your new room after that
• It was weird, trying to fall into a rhythm with a group of people that had already become so aquatinted with one another, but you managed
• The trust exercises were cheesy and took too long, chores were a daily task for everyone, and Alastor snuck around in the shadows too much for your liking, but at least you had a place to live
• Besides. Who was to say you couldn’t make a few friends along the way?
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htchnr · 1 month
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♰ silver soul ༻ L. HOWLETT.*ೃ˚
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✮ꜜ masterlist. ✮ꜜ buy me a ko-fi!
content warning hurt/comfort ⋆ vague mention of a crappy work place ⋆ a thousand pet names ⋆ unmentioned age gap ⋆ non sexual vaguely mentioned nudity ⋆ not proofread, i just wanted to get it written and out ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!
pairing old man!Logan.
summary all you need after an awful week is to lay in Logan's arms. tightly wrapped around you to let you heal a little before the next day starts again. + or, i desperately need Logan to hold me and tell me everything's gonna be okay. wordcount 0.9k.
authors note i've seen you guys' requests, don't worry! give me some time to get them out cause i'm kinda in sucky mental place (lol, hence all these various comfort fics lately) and my writing is getting slow :,) bare with me lovelies, i'll get them out i promise <3
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© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, ��𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫��𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!
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the cabin is quiet when you push through the front door, the sun having long since set. you drop your keys in the hand-carved wooden bowl, kicking your shoes off along with shrugging your coat off. you know Logan can hear it's you by your familiar movements you make each night when you come home from work late.
you let out a deep sigh, knowing Logan must already be in bed if he wasn't there to greet you. you sluggishly make your way towards the bedroom, a tired and pained smile on your lips. " hey, sweetheart. " his low, gruff voice calls out to you once you're through the doorway.
you merely nod in response, starting to shrug off all your clothes. the day was long, the week was long. all you crave is to lay in his arms.
Logan had heard the sluggish edge to your movements the moment you came through the front door, already knowing it had been a hard day. " c'mere, honey. " he waves you over, setting his book aside on the nightstand.
your whole figure is tense as you move. Logan pulls the duvet back enough for you to slide under and move up against him. he pulls the duvet up and around your bare figure, his strong arm wrapping around your waist as he moves your body to lay on top of him. " here we go, don't that feel better? "
you nod against his hairy and scarred chest, your face scrunching up with the safety that emanates from his firm and strong figure.
" hey, let it go, darlin'. you're away from it right now, let it all go, " he assures, his rough, calloused hand rubbing gentle patterns up and down your bare back and waist. " give it all t'me, let me carry this with you. "
and so you do, you let it all go. tears drip down your cheeks and onto his chest as you tell him about the rude coworker who won't stop, your car that broke down for the third time this week, things that keep breaking the moment you lay your hands on them. and Logan listens to it all, not once interrupting you.
his large hands strokes up and down your back lovingly, " i think it's time to look for another job, honey, " you know he's right, but finding decent jobs nowadays seems nearly impossible. " i know it'll be hard, but it'll be less hard than the time they're givin' you at this job. " he replies, as if he read your mind.
you nod, sniffling. he listens as you go on about how you can't seem to do anything creatively anymore, how you keep messing up meals you cook, how your clothes don't feel right anymore. and all he does is hold you tightly and listen.
" let's take some time off, yeah? i think gettin' away would do you a world of good. " you hum, the thought of staying at his cabin in the woods would do you a lot of good. " tell you what, sweet girl, " he presses a kiss to the top of your head. " i'll deal with your work, and you start packin' t'morrow. how's that sound? "
you smile sadly and nod, your wet cheek rubbing against his tear-wet chest. " that sounds good. " you croak, your voice a little rough.
he smiles, his beard gently scratching against your forehead. " then that's what we'll do. " he presses another kiss to your hair, before reaching over to tug on the string of the lamp and turning the lamp off. " don't you worry your pretty little head about a thing, alright? i'll take care of you, baby. i'll take care of you. "
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3liza · 20 days
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I agree that the pushback against White Woman Paranoia About Men is warranted but
I also see a lot of posts by men and people who situationally may never experience this, about how being wary of men as a class is delusional due to the actual crime statistics being basically negligible compared to, for example, being hit by a car or getting into a car accident. and what this kind of post doesn't acknowledge is that there are lot of ways to have an exceptionally bad experience caused by strange men in public that have nothing to do with anything that is classified as criminal, bodily harm, and specifically any behavior that would actually be worthwhile to report, making it unknown to the statistics. the guy who followed me for two blocks one night and then brushed by my back and said "don't fall" very pointedly as I was standing on a freeway overpass wasn't doing anything illegal and certainly nothing any cop would do anything about if I "reported" it (lmao) but yeah that is an unpleasant experience I remember vividly and would like to avoid in future. one example of many, obviously, I'm not making a whole post about a single experience
it is absolutely the case that the only rapes and most of the physical assaults I've experienced have been from men known to me socially or intimately, but until I got a large dog, going outside was about 60% likely to involve being harassed. which is a lot more than I have been hit by cars (zero times)
being harassed is extremely unpleasant regardless of its likelihood to progress to physical assault. sometimes it can be so unpleasant it affects our daily lives, and a single incident of harassment can impact a person's mental health. the expectation of ongoing harassment does this moreso, it creates a continual expectation of being pursued, questioned, and then having to deal with someone getting angry at you when you don't accede to their demands. in any context this is unpleasant. people who do not experience sexual harassment in their daily lives may be able to empathize with this experience if they were ever bullied as children. people chasing you around, calling you names, creating unpleasant confrontations for no reason, and then the next day you have to get up and go do it again. people change schools, quit jobs and move out of shared living situations to avoid this kind of stress, it's reasonable to develop an aversion to it. it's reasonable to develop reactivity and hypervigilance as well. verbal and social harassment without any physical assault is more than enough to cause a trauma response.
it's also just inconvenient. even if you are not menaced or belittled or traumatized by an episode of harassment, having to Manage a Harassment Situation in the grocery store or post office when you're just trying to get an errand done is a massive waste of time. a lot of women have to plan for extra time during errands or travel to account for getting out of situations like that.
a LOT of the paranoia about men from women that you can read everywhere in the culture is based not in a fear of getting physically harmed or killed, but simply avoiding more harassment.
I think a lot of women have defaulted to explaining this desire to avoid men and avoid being alone with men, or explaining their suspicion of men, as fear of physical harm, because that's the only way people who don't get harassed are able to take it seriously. but it's completely reasonable to want to avoid being annoyed, bothered, harassed, questioned, inconvenienced, interrupted, or to have someone just be rude to you, completely apart from the actual percentage likelihood that they are a serial killer. even the act of telling these men politely that you can't talk right now, aren't interested, have to go, have a boyfriend, whatever, is annoying and often escalates into a confrontation or to the man being angry at you or insulting you. we can agree that getting into a verbal argument for no reason on the street is a negative experience. it can be annoying and unsettling without being a threat to life and limb. and no this isn't a "i have bad social skills and can't handle normal human interactions" thing, it's not a social interaction required by common decency or manners or basic function, it's someone putting you into a bad situation for no reason and then getting mad at you when you decline to entertain them. the harassers are the ones being rude. it is a violation of the social contract to catcall someone. it's just annoying and I want to avoid it. most women want to avoid it, and behave accordingly.
no terfs on this post. everything I just said about being bothered by strangers applies double (at least) to the experiences of most trans women
women aren't the only people who get harassed by strangers either, but it is overwhelmingly an issue experienced by women, and people who are perceived as feminine or as women.
it's also not just men who do the harassing, but again, it is overwhelmingly men who are doing it.
some women experience no harassment or very little of this harassment and won't identify with this post. that's true and real, but doesn't make it not true that a very very large percentage of women, maybe even most women, have experienced this. no experience is universal
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m-oddinsdottir · 28 days
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SMALL SPACE, BIG WINGS
the lord of Bloodshed and the étoile .ˊˎ ⚔️
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Cassian x Fem! Reader
Words: 2,974
Warnings: smut, fingering, dirty talking, use of pet names, Cassian is a consent king, tension, reader ‘despising’ Cassian, Cassian being secretly smitten over her, unprotected p in v, size kink, multiple orgasms, creampie, slightly nipple play, no use of y/n. let me know if I missed anything!
Summary: After being sent on a small and easy job, you end up locked up with Cassian while trying to hide. You two barely fit inside together and the tension is definitely not making things any easier.
A/N: so this is the first time I write smut, definitely had to made my research in how to translate some things from my first language. friendly reminder that english isn’t my first language so please feel free to correct me if<3
Masterlist
•••
You were going to murder Rhysand. Surely, that was the next thing on your to-do list.
You were no spy, and neither was Cassian. Stealthy was not one of the words by which you would describe the Illyrian warrior, to the contrary he was a brute, certainly not a diplomat or forbearing in said matters.
So when Rhysand sent you both on a small and easy job (as the High Lord had called it), you immediately knew things would fail miserably.
After centuries together, everyone would have thought you adored Cassian as much as you adored everyone else in the Inner Circle. They couldn't be more wrong. You hated being teased, he was always teasing you. You loved your moments of solitude and peace, he would always scream around and ruin them. You were free as the stars, he was always trying to tie you down to the House of Wind with them.
You despised him.
However, you couldn't get rid of his obnoxious presence. Even during those terrible fifty years of Amarantha's reign where you had found your own silent and sacred temple in Velaris, he would always knock on your door at least once a month. He was insatiable.
Now, you both were trapped together under a hatch door. His broad hand over your waist to balance you while you were almost laying completely down over his body. His large wings half-wrapped around your figure, occupying most of the limited space in the tiny area you two had decided to hide in.
The amused smirk on his lips didn't help after you noticed the trapdoor only opened from the outside. If you had the space, you would have punched it out of his face just in the way he had trained you after decades of dwelling on how you couldn't always retort on your magic.
"You and me together, doll." He had said, and in response, you had just huffed before trying to kick the door open... Somehow. There must be a way to get out of there, right? You have attempted to contact Rhysand countless times to be able to keep track of it. Yet, you received no response in return.
And now, after almost twenty minutes ignoring Cassian's smart mouth and trying to find the manner to open the door. Your body was already cramping, and the resignment was taking its toll on you.
The male underneath you noticed the sigh that escaped your lips. He also realized how your body pressed more against his seeking some rest after supporting yourself over your forearms to avoid touching him for that much time. A small grin drew itself over his lips.
"As I said about half an hour again... You can't open it."
A small stubborn frown appeared over your lips. He wasn't saying 'I said so' right now, was he? Gods, you were so going to punch him.
"Have you at least tried to contact Rhysand to get us out of here?" Your question made his grin disappear as he looked into your eyes.
Cassian hadn't tried to do anything during all that time. He had just laid there, noticing the way your chest heavily moved up and down with each of your pants after trying to push the door open with your body, taking in how you closed your eyes in frustration granting him the possibility for his eyes to roam over your body without you realizing it.
Gods, he had tried to memorize each detail in your skin with this new forced proximity which, at least, was welcomed by him. Cassian had retained the way your brows furrowed together and the soft sounds of exasperation coming out of your throat that made him shiver.
"Of course, I've tried. I want to stay in this position as much as you do, doll."
Lie after lie.
He hadn't tried to contact Rhysand, and the gods knew he was praying to stay like that with you for as long as possible.
You looked deep into his eyes, nose scrunched up slightly before scoffing and then trying to shift to reduce the cramping sensation. "Ain't this the best outcome possible?"
Hearing your annoyed grumbling made Cassian grin with amusement again, his hand squeezing your waist before talking. "You know, you could always..."
"If you seriously propose that I lay down, I'll kill you Cassian." You muttered and the male raised his hands as much as he could feigning innocence.
"I didn't say anything," Cassian replied to you. His hand returned to rest on your waist before you shoved it away. "You were the one who suggested that… Is that how badly you want me to invite you to sit on my lap, doll?"
Unconsciously, your breath hitched before a small growl escaped your lips and you flexed your arms to be able to stand as far away from him as possible. "Have some respect, will you?"
"When has there ever been some respect between us?"
A truth, for a change.
Gods may correct if otherwise. But a compliment has never been shared between you and the warrior. Not a genuine one, at least.
"And whose fault is that?"
"Isn't it ours, doll? I don't think I can count how many times you've slammed your door on my face." "I don't think you can count at all." Your retort made the warrior grin from underneath you. And, this time, Cassian didn't have any decency before he looked— No, not looked, ogled at you.
"Trying to make me cry?"
You held back the need to roll your eyes at him before supporting your weight with one arm and forcing him to look into your eyes. The roughness of his stubble scratched the soft pads of your fingers as you held his chin upwards.
"Eyes up here," you warned him. "I didn't realize you had the emotional capacity to cry. Did I at least bruise your ego, Cassian?"
He chuckled before tilting his head down slightly and brushing his sultry lips against your fingers. "Consider it damaged." The strain of his voice sent a shiver down your spine to your core.
Gods, that roughness in his tone. You doubt you have ever heard that hoarseness in him before, even though you have witnessed some of his flirting attempts with other females.
A few seconds too late, you dropped his chin. Your hand moved to rest underneath his arm so that you could support yourself above him. Your mouth felt dry and the familiar sensation of your slick between your folds almost cracked a curse out of you.
Fuck.
Not in this situation, not with Cassian underneath you, not in such a tiny space where he could scent it.
And did he scent it, his nose scrunched up slightly and your eyes followed the movement of his Addam's apple when he swallowed hard. The warmth got worse. And you weren't even sure how or why it started.
Gods.
Gods.
"Gods." Cassian muttered, putting your thoughts right into words. You scoffed before shoving him away from you, placing your hands on his chest, and pushing your back against the small wooden trap door.
"Don't you dare say a fucking word. I'm going to try and contact Rhysand again." At your words, Cassian's chest reverberated against your hands when a deep growl escaped his lips
"Don't." His firm voice made you freeze above him.
"Don't?" You repeated and his growl was enough of a response for you. "The hell y—?
Before you could even register it, his lips were over yours. He was a male starved, lips coaxing yours open as he roughly introduced his tongue inside your mouth. His long and warm tongue licking the roof of your mouth before he intertwined his tongue with yours in a dance that only belonged to the synchrony in which the General usually fought his battles.
A small whimper escaped your lips and it traveled into his mouth when one of his hands lowered to your ass, taking a handful of the flesh covered by the leather. Almost immediately, your body arched into his, molding your body in the small space. Your skin buzzed with arousal when he broke the kiss and began pressing open-mouthed wet kisses against the bare skin of your neck.
You whined his name, almost gasping as his hand slipped underneath your trousers, you had no idea when the male unbuttoned them as your hand moved upwards to get tangled in his dark long locks.
"So fucking beautiful and so fucking wet," Cassian groaned as one of his fingers lowered feeling your covered and aching cunt, his warm and soft fingers pressing against your entrance. He clenched his jaw when he could feel the wetness spread through the thin layer of fabric. "Can you imagine how many times I have pictured you like this? At my damn mercy."
He pressed harder and you moaned against his ear. A pink tone colored your cheeks, however, it was provoked by your shame, not your arousal. You doubted you have ever been more soaked for any male before him... That, somehow, ashamed you.
Cassian traced slow and cruel circles against your entrance almost fingering you through the small lacey fabric Mor usually forced you to buy.
"Cassian—." You even struggled with your own speech. Your voice was suffocated by the delicious sounds that reached Cassian's hearing making the bulge in his trousers painfully hard. You could feel it poke your thigh through his Illyrian leathers and a strained gasp left your lips.
"Fuck, keep making those sounds." Cassian growled against your ear before he lowered your trousers revealing your backside to him as he hovered over your shoulder to take a glimpse.
A moan escaped his lips, this time. With his free hand, he parted your cheeks open squeezing the flesh underneath one of his hands before he kept teasing your entrance. His thumb moved upwards finding that small bundle of nerves right where he knew it would be. You choked your moan by kissing him once again and he gratefully devoured each one of your moans.
With a swift movement, he notched the skimpy and delicate fabric to the side. And then he was sinking two long and thick fingers inside you. Immediately, breaking the kiss, your lips parted open in a silent moan, jaw going slack.
The stretch stung as he buried his fingers deep until your achy cunt swallowed them entirely reaching his knuckles. A small laugh escaped his lips when you began to grind against his fingers, chasing your own pleasure.
His hand on your backside immediately moved up to shield your head when you almost hit it against the trap door. "Easy there, doll." Cassian mumbled softly, the gentle gesture making you clench around his fingers.
Cassian curled his fingers inside you finding the spongy patch of flesh that forced a cry out of your lips: "There you go, my beautiful," He whispered softly as he worked his fingers in and out. "Tell me what you want."
You almost laughed at his words. It was as if he was searching for your consent despite the way you were desperately grinding against his fingers while you moaned inches away from his mouth. The brute was in fact a gentleman, Cassian was indeed a gentle lover.
"I want you, Cassian," You mumbled against his lips connecting them with yours for a few seconds before nibbling on his lower lip. "Just you."
He growled. "Gods, doll... Come for me." His voice sounded almost like a plead as his thumb found your clit again. It only took a couple of lazy circles of his finger before you were making a mess of them, soaking his entire palm as a cry escaped your lips, your body stiffening before you buried your face in his neck breathing in his scent so that you could anchor yourself to something while being sent over the edge.
Cassian shushed you, still working his fingers inside you, trying to ride you out of your pleasure. "Good girl," He muttered, making your sensible walls clench around his fingers again. "Gods, I've jerked off so many times thinking about this before." His blunt admission caused a blush to color your cheeks as you looked down at him with half-lidded eyes. Cassian withdrew his fingers from you making you feel empty. You whimpered before he brought his glistening and sticky fingers to his lips sucking them dry while you observed.
The Illyrian savored the feeling of your juices on his fingers as if they were a damn meal. So much so that his eyes rolled back to his skull.
"So you've jerked off to me, huh?" You asked teasingly and he growled softly.
"Shut up." His lips were right over yours again forcing you to taste the salty but sweet taste of your orgasm on his tongue. You heard him roughly fiddling with the ties and buttons of his trousers and a small giggle escaped your lips before you moved down pressing gentle kisses against his jaw and neck.
Your skin sunk on the tanned skin there, leaving gentle marks that you soon soothed with a flicker of your tongue that only caused goosebumps to blossom around his skin.
Cassian growled against your ear when his large and hard manhood was revealed from its restraints. He gripped himself around the base and you looked down. The view made your breath hitch. Gods, was he big. You even doubted it would fit inside as you watched him pump himself a few times.
"Cassian, I don't think I..." You began but he quickly interrupted you. "I'll make it damn fit."
Cassian slid his length against your messy folds, smearing himself in the wetness of your arousal so that he could stretch you open more easily and less painfully. One hand moved up to cup your breasts while the other remained on your hips. He circled your nipples through the fabric of your shirt between his rough calloused fingers, toying with them.
His pupils had become pools in his eyes almost making the golden shrink into a small halo around the darkness of his lured eyes that stared right into your eyes. "So fucking beautiful. The damn picture of perfection." He repeated.
A gentle smile appeared on your lips and you relaxed against his arms. You were relaxed until you felt it. His thick grith slowly pushing inside you. A moan broke your voice as he slowly stretched you open.
"Doing so good for me, baby." Cassian muttered before moving to press a gentle kiss against your forehead, he pulled out before sinking in a few more inches and your needy cunt clenched around him swallowing his cock.
"More," You begged softly, tilting your head to find his lips. "I need you. All of you." He groaned and suddenly, Cassian sunk himself as deeply as he could inside you. His hips flesh against yours as his hands had lowered you completely into his cock.
"Gods—" You moaned and he held still for you to be able to adjust to his girth. One hand remained on your hips while the other moved to cup your cheek so that he could look into your eyes the entire time.
When you nodded telling him that you were alright, Cassian whimpered and he shifted you both in the tiny space before retreating and then thrusting in even deeper than before, the head of his cock caressing your cervix.
Cassian pumps in and out of you, small groans escaping his lips as he gets lost in the feeling of your sensitive walls tightening around him. He could feel your wetness slicking his cock each time he pulled out before he would thrust again. His golden eyes were locked with yours as he took in the way your face contorted with pleasure. Committing the moment to his memory.
He smirks feeling your body shake with each one of his hard thrusts. His hand gently caresses your cheek despite the roughness and eagerness of his movements. "Gods, you were made for me, doll." "I feel like I was made for you." You gasped in response and soon his fingers moved down to caress the swollen bundle of nerves making you cry out with pleasure.
Cassian leaned in closer to press his forehead against yours. "You are," He mumbles noticing the way you arched your back to meet each one of his strokes. "You are... Made for me— Mine."
His growls made you whimper and you felt your body stiffen above him. "Cass.. I'm close to—." He didn't allow you to finish your sentence, thrusting in even deeper and circling your clit desperately before you were coming undone on his cock.
A loud cry escaped your lips before he kissed you gently while your walls tightened around him, your legs trembling due to the electric current coursing through your body and struggling to support yourself over him. The sensation makes him groan and when you screamed his name, he's already tightening his grip over your hips.
He spills rope after rope of his thick and warm spend, flooding your insides as he closes his eyes. Cassian's forehead was still pressed against yours as he panted heavily against your face. He remained buried deep inside you pulling in and out slightly so that your tight walls would milk him completely before he pulled out.
And then you both opened your eyes. Glossy gazes locking with each other and tired smiles over your lips before it happened.
Your breath hitched as his speed dripped out of you and the golden bridge between both your souls constructed itself brick by brick. It left your already hazy mind feeling even more bewildered. You caught sight of Cassian's excited and tender smile before fully realizing it.
He was your mate.
Oh, damn it.
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denwritesandcries · 9 months
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Take a Breath (and kiss me) – T.C
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Pairing: tara carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: Your girlfriend Tara gets a little clingy when she realizes you haven't kissed her properly in days.
Word count: 2,0k
Content: cursing, fluff, kisses, cuddles, tara being a sad pup, college routine kicking everybody's asses, core four as a family.
Note: First time writing for Tara! Pure fluff cause I’m starting on a new job this week and needed comfort.
English is not my first language.
It's been four days straight since you last kissed Tara.
Not that she was counting, she really wasn't, but now, after an extremely long and tiring day of exams and more exams, it seemed impossible not to feel your absence next to her. The feeling of neediness and loneliness hits her hard when she realizes how long it's been since you two have been together.
Four days. Four whole days of no holding hands or playing with her hair, no hugs, no cuddles and definitely no kisses. Be it on the forehead, the cheek, the shoulders, the hands, or on the lips. Nothing. It's like the universe just decided one day 'nuh-uh, no kisses for Tara Carpenter' and boy that was unfair.
The last time you kissed her – actually kissed her – was on Monday morning, at the beginning of that hellish week, when she woke up too early with the sunlight escaping through a crack in the curtains bothering her eyes, with her whole body completely curled up on top of yours. One of the best ways to wake up, really. The same thing happened to you a short time later, because as much as Tara loves being in your arms, she also can't help but feel restless when she's awake and move a lot, but the way she lights up when you sleepy mumble a good morning to her doesn't make you able to be upset with her for that.
You gave her a slow, lazy kiss, still with that warm aura of sleep remaining.
It was the most she could enjoy of your company before you had to leave in a hurry to escape the scolding Sam would give you both for spending the night having class the next day – even though, you know, you're college students and adults – and get to your own dorm to be ready in time for your first class in the morning.
She would have braved the scolding and made you stay a little longer if she had remembered that exam season was about to start. Unfortunately, this only occurred to her when she had her first taste of it later that day.
See, that was perhaps the thing Tara hated most about her new life as a student in New York: the way the change in routine could easily overwhelm her, and how that made it even worse because you couldn't be around as much as she wanted you to.
You were a year ahead of her and your courses were different, so you didn't have any classes together and your paths barely crossed during the day, which meant the only times she got to see you were on quick runs across campus, barely having time to exclaim a 'hi baby!' before disappearing with stacks of books and notebooks in your arms.
Sure, you exchanged a lot of messages, but it wasn't the same as having a warm body next to her in bed or on the couch. You couldn't even come to the apartment after everything because she was also too tired from her own work to hangout after it.
But Friday had finally arrived and she had enough time to wallow in self-pity until everyone got home. Checking the patterned wall clock that her sister bought when they moved in, Tara realizes that it's already past five pm and the sound of the door opening is the sign that her family has started to come in. She buries her head in the pile of cushions, ignoring the throbbing pain in her temples.
“Ugh, finally." Mindy plops down next to Tara on the other side of the couch, clasping her hands above her head to stretch, “What is this? Why is there a sad, miserable gremlin on our couch?”
She hears Chad's loud laugh coming from the kitchen but can only mutter a 'fuck you' muffled by the cushions she's sunk into, feeling a tap on her calf in response.
Tara wasn't going to put up with any mockery now, not when she was so tired and sleepy and missing you. She would do the same thing she had done the last few days: take a hot shower without giving a shit to Quinn's protests about using all the water, hug Sam when she got home from work in 45 minutes, and accept the offer of a snack when her sister ask if she had already eaten, then she would go to her room, throw herself on the bed and text you goodnight, before completely blacking out until the next day, when she could finally have you all to herself for the entire weekend – and for the rest of the week too. The worst part is over, so screw it, you guys could afford to miss some classes.
“Are you just gonna lay there and give up on existence, lil dude?” Mindy starts again, interrupting the peaceful and only partly distressing silence Tara had settled into as she builds up the strength to stand up.
“Will you shut the hell up?” She bites, grabbing one of the cushions and hitting her friend in the face, “You’re not funny and my head hurt as fuck.”
“Jesus, okay, okay!” Mindy waves her arms in defeat and stands up, “I won’t say anything else then.”
"Great."
“I’m not gonna say–” She takes on a teasing tone, “–that Anika thought that a certain someone was really upset and buried in books all that time in their dorm and that it would be better if they came straight here after class to take a break, but I’m not gonna tell you that.”
"What?" Tara’s expression immediately brightened, “You’re serious? What you–"
“Well, I told my girlfriend to bring your girlfriend. But it's okay, I'm not gonna say any of that.”
Mindy looked extremely smug but Tara chose to spare her another hit in the face for the sake of the information she just received. She lights up and jumps off the couch in a flash, rushing to shower and get ready now that she has a good reason. She hears Chad shouting from the kitchen:
“Girl, I thought you were tired!”
“Right?” Mindy laughs, “Wednesday’s at that age when a girl has only one thing on her mind, Chad.”
This makes her stop: “I don’t look like her!”
She slams the door shut when she hears their laughter increase in response.
If someone asked Tara if it was true that she sat on the side of the sofa closest to the door so she could see the exact moment you arrived, she would vehemently deny it – even though that's exactly what she did – and she would also deny that she deflated a little when the first person to arrive after the twins was Sam with a pizza box in one hand and covering a big yawn with the other.
You and Anika only arrive almost half an hour after Sam, finding Tara already watching you with doe eyes. Your haggard face immediately breaks into a smile, lines of fatigue crinkling in the corners of your eyes.
“There you are, dear,” you cross the room towards her and Tara leans in, even before you touch her, practically purring at the soft kiss you leave on her forehead, “I missed you.”
She melts when you wrap your arms around her, burying her head in your chest, but that's it. A kiss on the forehead and a hug and then you're pulling away again because you and Anika have brought more food that should be placed on the kitchen counter.
It only took this small moment of you going back and forth for everything to come back to Tara with full force. You didn't kiss her.
It's stupid, it's irrational, but her eyes fill with tears even though she can clearly see you from behind, unpacking the groceries and talking to your friends there.
Tara tried to just sit and wait for you to come back as soon as you were done, but patience was never her thing.
“Hm?” You hum when you feel a tug on your hodie's sleeve, looking back to find Tara with a tearful, frustrated expression.
“I had a really long day,” she begins, not quite sure how to ask for what she wants, eyes focused on the floor, “Will you come stay with me?”
Your heart races and your voice immediately softens: “Of course, sweetheart.”
Tara wastes no time in dragging you to her room by your wrist and you can't even react to the warning look Sam throws you over her shoulder.
She perches on your lap the second you sit down on the bed, sighing in relief as she buries her face in your shoulder.
You rest your chin on her head, “Did somethin’ happen?”
“I’m gonna quit college." She moans in defeat against your neck.
You huff a giggle into her hair, “Same, baby.”
Tara pulls away just enough to look at you and the pure love and tenderness in your eyes is more than enough to make the tears come back.
“What? What is it?" You straighten up, worried, tightening your arms around her.
“You haven’t kissed me in four days.”
She blurts out, voice cracking and strangled and you stop.
“Four days?”
Tara nods, “Except for the one on the forehead, you haven’t really kissed me in four days and like, several hours.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” She frowned. Shit, now she was getting mad at you, “Oh?”
You rush to take her mind off it, pressing a kiss to her lips in which she immediately melts with a soundly sigh of relief.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” you murmur between small pecks distributed on her lips, “I was so caught up in everything that I didn’t even notice.”
Tara still seemed a little upset by your response, but you kissed her again, bringing a hand to her jaw to deepen, feeling your girlfriend's arms entwined around your neck.
When you pull apart this time, you're both out of breath and Tara's face is covered in a soft red glow. You gently draw patterns with your fingers on her hips and lean in, leaving a kiss on her warm cheek.
“I’m sorry, Tar,” you echo, looking deep in her eyes “I’ve missed you so much. How can I make it up to you?”
She pretends to think for a moment, averting her eyes to hide the shiver that runs through her body.
“It's been four days,” she huffs with more annoyance than she actually feels, “I'm a girl who has abandonment issues, you know, it's your obligation to kiss me every day from now on.”
“Noted,” you smile.
“But…” She starts with a mischievous smile, “You could also make me feel better by watching The Babadook with me.”
“No, no, Tara!” You whine, “The noises of that movie freak me out!”
“Oh, I know,” your girlfriend says, blinking innocently, “But I want to do something with you, it's been so long since we watched something together alone and I love you so much.”
"I love you too." You respond instantly.
It only takes a look at those doe eyes and you lose the battle immediately and Tara looks victorious. She knows the power she has over you, the adorable little shit.
She leaves your lap just enough time to pick up the laptop on the table and returns to her place, you pull her back and lie down on the pillows, dragging her against your chest, pulling a blanket from the corner of the bed to cover you both.
“Tests are over,” you say, burying your face in her neck as the movie scene darkens, “The next few weeks are ours now. Just ours.”
Tara giggles when you startle again, sinking further against your body, smelling the hodie you were wearing, the one she got you for your birthday.
“Ours,” she says, “I like how that sounds.”
Tara tries to stay awake as long as possible, even after you fall asleep with your face buried in her neck. She's almost asleep when Sam quietly opens the door, a plate of pizza in hand and an eyebrow raised. The silent question of ‘can she stay the night please?’ is just a formality.
There's no way you're getting out of her league anytime soon.
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