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The best way to hang anything on drywall: monkey hooks! No tools required, holds 25+ pounds, and only a tiny hole. Win win win.
#crosspost#Hang Anything Anywhere With These Monkey Hooks diyprojects#DeLanceyDIY#The best way to hang anything on drywall: monkey hooks! No tools required#holds 25+ pounds#and only a tiny hole. Win win win.#youtube#zapier#ivys queue#2023-09-03T09:00:19Z
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2 memories i feel like sharing, & some backstory context: so my ass has been spayed, and healthy people take 6-8 weeks to fully recover from getting spayed. i, chronically ill, took longer. as with any abdominal surgery, they told me "no lifting over 10lb u could tear ur stitches." and for reference, my cats are 12 lb wonders.
so im chilling in bed. ~4 weeks after surgery. and my mother starts SCREAMING my name. like "OH MY GOD BORB COME IN HERE NOW QUICK QUICK HURRY OH GOD." so i do, albeit slowly because, you know, still recovering from major surgery. she's freaking out about one of my cats, who looks entirely normal. oh but he ~suddenly stopped~ and ~twisted his body~ i don't know if he's going to be ok. one mother panic attack and one emergency vet visit later (with my mother's help bc i couldn't lift my cat due to lifting restrictions) : he had flea dirt on his hind legs. he was twisting around to lick around his arse. cool 👍 (ofc my mother, on the ride back from the vet, tried to tell me NOT to give the kids flea meds, she doesn't know what kind of ~health ramifications~ flea meds can have if *gasp* the kids don't actually have fleas)
around the same time period, i get woken up by my mother screaming "HELP HELP HELP!!" the first day it happens, she stops within ~15 seconds, and i hear my parents talking before i fall back asleep. find out later the mechanism for moving the window panels up & down in the bathroom broke, so the top panel had trapped her fingers a la guillotine style. my parents joke "well borb if you hear your mother screaming... her fingers are probably trapped 😂." can you guess what happens next. my father was gone the next day, and guess who got her fingers trapped AGAIN by the bathroom window. so i get woken up by her screaming, and i have to help dislodge the window around her bare naked ass. and sure, i have sympathy because i bet it was really painful. but like. are you fucking stupid. my father had to literally childproof the window by installing a screw so the guillotine panel would catch against the other panel so fingers wouldn't get trapped. just so my mother wouldn't get her fingers trapped again. we all knew that if it wasn't there, she would 1000% get her fingers trapped again. but *im* supposedly the incompetent fuck up that NEEDS to be told exactly what to do just in case i, idk, have an independent thought.
#borbtalks#this isn't even including when the plumbing broke and my parents went 'oh a plumber is expensive :( let's just go w/o toilets for awhile'#and after abdominal surgery + narcotics for said surgery. they have you taking a lot of laxatives regularly.#bc straining could pop a stitch.#my parents knew this. my parents knew that physically BECAUSE OF SURGERY & MEDS. that i couldn't just. hold it.#or when my mother pounded on my door at 8am yelling 'BORB I THINK SOMETHING'S WRONG. . . OK NEVERMIND'#turns out the princess felt faint for a moment. so of course she sprinted to my door instead of. idk. lying down for a moment?#or the time the plumbing got backed up and everyone confronted me and i had to tell them i hadn't had a BM in over 48 hours to clear my name#bc they were all blaming me. what actually happened? right after i left the bathroom my mother came in and flushed 5 wet wipes 😒#AND NO ONE BATTED AN EYE#when borb might've backed up the plumbing: oh HOW DARE HE. he's an EMBARRASSMENT. what a DISGUSTING FREAK#when my mother actually backed up the plumbing: oh okie mistakes happen ^_^#god. i share two memories and it's like woagh here's 5 more related memories.#fucking. pattern of behavior. 'oh it was just one time can't u forgive mom' NO IT'S BEEN 25 YEARS OF THIS SHIT
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it's so upsetting that i can't use my wrists or pick up anything heavy because i just wanna take pictures of lilo because she's getting so big but I Can't
#🔪.text#like yeah i could use my phone but my phone's camera isn't that good!!#and no my camera isn't like. super heavy.#but it's probably heavy enough that i shouldn't be using it#but she's 5 months old now!!#she's getting so big waghhh#last we weighed her she was 25 pounds (which was last friday)#i'm also pretty sure she's how i injured my wrist LMAO#she didn't do anything#but i was constantly picking her up#both because i wanted to hold her and also bc sometimes i had to#and then when i wasn't out with her i was in my room drawing#so i was just kinda constantly using my wrists#and then one night i picked her up and my wrist Popped very very loudly#and i think that's when it was Officially Injured#before then i think it was just overuse
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ahahahahaha
#i'm here to be OBNOXIOUS in the tags like its 2015 because at present i have no therapist and i've been holding in a lot of thoughts#so right off the bat i'm 25 years old and aside from 1 month when i was 17 years old no one has ever called me their girlfriend#and sometimes that lil nugget of knowledge is bearable but tied to that is the correlated fact that i have never received romantic love#which... wooooo! thats a real fucking bummer#and since moving out age 23 like i've been trying to meet people! put myself out there and go out on dates!#but i've gone on dates with nearly 50 men in less than 2 years and not a single one has worked out for longer than... 3mo?#i lost 60 pounds to try to be more conventionally attractive#and still absolutely no one finds me worthy of their love#and my dating app match numbers are dwindling and i'm beginning to fear that i've truly run out of options in my area#and so now what?#i just die alone?#thats what it feels like very genuinely like it feels like i put up the good fight but unfortunately i was always doomed to lose#i should just accept my fate as a lonely loveless scorned woman who cries at the faintest hint of compassion for her#nothing in my life has turned out the way i wanted other than having a dog#i was supposed to be married to the love of my life with a higher education degree and a small starter house for the family i'd have#i'm a degree-less single woman living in a 1br condo with an evil russian old lady neighbor and an income that barely supports my dog#look at me go
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Teacher's Pet
Joel Miller x virgin f!reader
Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help.
Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).
w/c: 7.7k idk what happened
a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm
Part Two
my masterlist
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?”
"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp.
"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time”
"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.
Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."
You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.
"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."
You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."
You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.
"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."
"You think so?" You ask hopefully.
"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."
Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."
"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pissy, dump his ass."
"That simple, huh?" You scoff.
"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."
"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!
"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."
You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.
"I've watched porn before" you retort.
"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.
"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.
Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.
"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"
You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.
"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"
"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."
"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.
"Alright. Then do."
"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.
Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face.
"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."
You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out.
It's not a bad idea, not necessarily.
You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along fabulously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies and you watch movies together almost every Friday night.
It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.
It's an absolutely insane idea.
You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.
"What?" he says, looking back at you.
"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.
"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."
You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.
"I wasn't gonna say anything."
"Well now you're lying."
"I'm not."
"You're doing it again!"
"Doing what?!"
"That face!"
"I'm not making a face!"
"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"
You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself.
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."
Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.
"A what?"
"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.
"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?”
His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.
"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.
"Is that what you want?"
You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.
"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."
He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.
"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back.
But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.
"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.
"It's okay, come here."
His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.
"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."
You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.
"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."
There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.
"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.
"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."
"Not drunk?”
"Nope."
"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."
"Uh huh."
"And you still want to?"
You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.
"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."
He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—
His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm.
"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"
You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe.
"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod.
You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.
He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.
It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt.
He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing.
"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.
"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"
"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body.
"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."
His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.
You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.
"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.
"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek.
"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.
"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.”
You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.
"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"
"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."
You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.
"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"
Joel hums as he thinks for a moment.
"What do you want to do?"
You stare at him for a second, blinking.
"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.
"Well, how far do you want to take this?"
You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?
Yeah, probably.
"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way”
He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.
"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."
You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.
"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't want to, I get it, I can just leave and-"
Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.
"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."
"I want it.”
He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again.
“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.”
Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.
"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."
"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"
Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.
"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile.
"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.
"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.
"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.
You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.
"I’ll be good. I promise."
"Liar"
"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."
You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.
"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.
His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.
He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.
He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists.
“Can I take this off, baby?”
Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.
Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.
But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.
"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.
"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.
His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt.
"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."
The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing.
He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.
"Can I?" he asks.
"Please."
He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.
His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.
He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.
"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly.
"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"
He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.
"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.
You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.
"Get on the bed, baby."
You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.
He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.
"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."
"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.
"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"
Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.
"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.
He grins, his brow quirking up.
"Look at you, being all bossy"
"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.
His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer.
“I sure do.”
He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can.
"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.
He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.
His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.
You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath.
Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.
"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.
He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.
"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.
"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit.
"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.
"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"
You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him.
"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again
Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.
"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."
"But-"
"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.
You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.
"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.
"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."
You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.
And he's barely touched you.
"How's that feel?"
You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.
He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.
"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.
"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"
You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now.
"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.
"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically.
"I know, honey, I know."
You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.
"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.
"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.
White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge.
You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-
"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.
You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.
He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.
"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.
"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth.
"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.
He grunts and shakes his head.
"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."
You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again.
He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.
"Alright?"
You swallow and nod, licking your lips.
"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"
"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him.
"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"
"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"
"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.
He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.
"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"
He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.
"See what I mean?"
"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"
He hums and nips at your thigh.
"Damn right I do."
You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.
His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.
He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.
The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.
"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"
His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.
He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.
Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.
You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?
You're fucked.
A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.
"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"
He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive.
Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.
He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless.
But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.
You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.
How to please him.
You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans.
You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.
"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.
"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."
Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.
"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"
"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.
He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.
"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"
You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.
"Oh my god, that was terrible."
"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.
"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.
"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.
You gulp and lick your lips.
"Or..."
He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.
"Yeah, that's what I thought"
You glare at him and then sigh.
"You're a bully"
"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."
You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick.
"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.
"And proud of it.”
"Pride is a sin."
"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"
You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.
"You're ridiculous"
"You love it"
And that's the thing, isn't it?
Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.
And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.
You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.
"Joel?" you say his name softly.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Teach me."
Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!
#joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller one shot#joel miller fic#the last of us#tlou fic#joel miller#pedro pascal characters
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Ghost is the type of dad that would fall asleep while letting his kid color in his tattoos, only to wake up 30 minutes later to find his whole face covered in a kaleidoscope of scribbles.
Gaz is the type of dad that only has to be taught once not to hold a freshly-fed baby above his head. Even several months after the incident, he still shivers when he recalls the warm puke falling directly into his mouth.
Soap is the type of dad that gains 25 pounds of “sympathy weight” during your pregnancy (not to mention the additional 25 pounds he puts on a few years later from his habit of polishing off your toddler’s unfinished dino nuggets).
Price is the type of dad that has definitely gotten all of his kids to pull his finger at some point. By the time he does it to your final child, it’s almost become a right of passage to have dad fart in your face.
#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#john mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#simon riley#kyle garrick#john mactavish#john price#tf 141 x reader#task force 141 x reader#task force 141#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#cod mw2#call of duty#modern warfare 2#female reader
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 25: Animals
Summary: As your relationship begins to shift with your pack, you find yourself with an itch you just can't seem to scratch.
Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, Kyle x Johnny
Word Count:
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, very rough sex, big feral energy, excessive biting, blood, choking (for like one sentence), squirting (I cannot be stopped), crying, manhandling, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), cum eating, cum sharing, cock warming, reader gets folded like a chair several times, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, some feelings, just barely a hint of angst, and fluff. (Also just in case, Price is being a tease at the end)
A/N: Uh, yeah. I don't have any excuse for this one. The same warnings as last time apply here, don't read it in public, sit down, underwear, you get the point. Enjoy you depraved heathens
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A low growl rumbles in his chest, vibrating through your entire body. This one is different, the pitch lower, the back of your neck prickling. Your legs shake at the sound, pussy clenching around him as he nearly piledrives into you.
“Say it.” He growls, his voice rough with the edges of his alpha. It has you keening, pushing back against him. He uses the hand around your throat to lift you, bending your back almost painfully as he growls into your ear. “Fucking say it again.”
“Alpha!” You whine, choking around his hand as his fingers dig into your neck for a moment.
He releases you, letting you flop bonelessly on the bed as he continues to snap his hips against your ass so hard the bed slams against the wall. You can’t do anything but lay there and take it, your vision starting to go blurry from the pleasure.
Simon’s hands frame your head, gripping the sheets as he grunts and groans over you. You stare at his arm, at the muscle in his forearm as he holds himself up, straining from the exertion of fucking you so hard your vision is starting to go blurry. You shift your head to the side, moving closer to his arm before sinking your teeth into his wrist. He lets out a warning growl, but you sink your teeth in harder, the coppery taste of blood filling your mouth. He leans down, sinking his teeth into your shoulder in retaliation until something slides down your chest.
It’s not sweat.
You bite harder, undeterred by his own teeth in your shoulder. You’re not giving him this one. There’s a feral urge in you to fight, to sink your teeth in a shake like a dog until he gives up. Blood trails in rivulets down to his hand and onto the sheets as he gives in, releasing your shoulder. You purr in victory, releasing his wrist. He curses, yanking his arm away before he covers your mouth with his hand. His fingers dig into your cheeks, muffling your whines and moans as he licks at your shoulder, blood slowly dripping from the wound.
“Fucking little omega.” He grunts, his thrusts starting to get sloppy.
You can’t do anything but moan against his hand, his thrusts pushing your clit against the side of the bed. Your breaths are rapid through your nose, your mind buzzing from the near blinding pleasure. Pleasure tickles at the base of your spine, making your legs shake to the point of nearly giving out. You’re not sure how much longer you can last, not with the way he’s pounding into you.
He cums suddenly, his hips snapping against your ass before warmth shoots into your belly again. You moan against his hand, eyes rolling back as his orgasm fails to tire him. He picks the pace back up almost immediately, thrusting wildly into you. High pitched moans cut through the air as he releases you, pushing himself up to stand. Hands pull your hips back off the bed, fingers digging into the soft skin as your shaking legs offer no support for your body.
His thrusts become shallower, less sloppy and more focused. Your hands curl into his sheets, certain you’re going to rip the fabric as the overwhelming feeling begins to fill you once again.
“Alpha!” You shriek, his cock aimed for that spot inside of you again. The pressure is building, almost becoming too much. “No, no,” You whine, feeling like you might explode. You know what’s coming next, and you’re not sure you can handle another one. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Your legs do give out as fluid squirts out of you, soaking Simon and forcing his cum right out of you. It drips onto the towel, your body spasming in his hold. You can’t do anything but lay there and whimper, your very veins burning from your orgasm and the overstimulation.
Simon shoves you back up the bed, pushing his cock back inside you. You clench around him, the feeling almost too much as he starts his brutal pace back up, his hips driving you into the side of the mattress. His hand tangles in your hair, pushing your face into the sheets as he growls, rutting into you like an animal. Your body feels hot, your skin burning and your mouth getting dry from the exertion. You feel almost like you’re in heat again, the needy pleasure starting to fog your brain.
If only he could knot you right now. That might ease the ache beginning to form in your pelvis.
“Alpha,” You gasp, your hands scrambling back to reach his. “Alpha, please!”
“Fuck,” He growls, releasing your hips to grab you by the shoulders, fingers digging into your skin as he uses the leverage to pull you back against him.
Your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open as slick gushes out around him, dribbling down your thighs, mixing with your sweat. You’re close again, your sensitive pussy driving you closer and closer to the edge. Your back arches, pushing back against him as your hands lift, gripping onto his fingers.
“Alpha, alpha please.” You whine, hands squeezing tightly around his fingers.
He leans down, pressing his face into the back of your neck, his breaths puffing against your heated skin. He drags his tongue up your spine, lapping at the sweat coating your body. He growls, tilting his head before sinking his teeth into the back of your neck.
You let out a high pitched shriek, your vision going black. You writhe under him, feet trying to gain some sort of traction on the floor but you can’t get your legs to work. You’re rendered nearly immobile as his teeth sink into the delicate skin, his hands slipping under you to grip the sheets.
He continues to fuck into you, growling around your neck. Tears are leaking out of your eyes, the sounds coming from your lips a mix of sobs, moans and pathetic whines. Another orgasm wracks through you, your body shuddering under him as he sinks his teeth in until you bleed, spilling into you.
He releases you after his cock stops twitching, letting your body go. You nearly slide off the edge of the bed but he grabs you, flipping you back over onto your back. The back of your neck is stinging as he maneuvers you up the mattress, pushing your thighs back up to your chest. His eyes are nearly black as he stares down at you, blood on his lips and dribbling down his chin. His arm is bleeding still where you bit him, smearing across his skin and yours.
He holds your thighs against your chest as he pushes back into your sensitive pussy, still hard and almost throbbing. You can do nothing but lay there, whimpering and whining as he takes you over and over until your vision goes dark.
Your body aches. It pulls you from sleep, the pain waking you from your precious slumber. You let out a groan, shifting against the hard surface under you. You can’t get your arms to move, your limbs shaking as you try to get your muscles to work. You’re beginning to panic, feeling almost paralyzed.
A hand trails down your back, rough fingers following the line of your spine. You whimper, pressing your face into Simon’s chest.
“Easy.” His deep voice rumbles under your ear, rough and huskier than normal.
Your throat feels raw, your tongue heavy in your mouth. You try to speak but all that comes out is a whine as you become aware of the intense throbbing between your thighs.
“What do you need?” He asks, still stroking your back.
“Water.” You manage to croak out, peeling your eyes open.
Your vision is blurry, your waking brain quickly becoming aware of the pain in your body. Simon shifts under you, making you whine as the jostling just makes you aware of more pain.
Your skin feels like it's on fire, a tingling burn stinging the back of your neck. Your neck and shoulders are sore and aching, and there's a deep thrumming pain between your thighs. As memories of the night before begin to resurface, you know you're covered in bites and bruises, dried blood caked to your skin.
Simon shifts you again, another whine leaving your lips. He shushes you gently, pulling the blanket tighter around you as he maneuvers himself out from under you. You're laying on the floor, covered with the comforter off his bed. When you moved here, you're not sure. There’s a point where your mind goes blank, where the memories are cut off and nothing remains.
Simon quite literally fucked the life right out of you.
You’re suddenly aware of the chill in the room as you lose Simon’s warmth, another whimper leaving your lips. Simon gently maneuvers the blanket around you, tucking you into one side before rolling it around you until you’re immobile in a blanket burrito. You can’t do anything but watch as he digs through his dresser, pulling on a pair of sweatpants.
“Be right back.” He murmurs before he steps out of the room, leaving you alone.
You blink slowly, trembling slightly from the combination of the cold and your aching body. You can’t pinpoint which part of you hurts the most, your muscles feeling like you just completed a marathon without any training. You suppose you have in a way. Last night was certainly a marathon of sex, one which probably continued long after the gap in your memory started.
Simon returns, water bottle in hand. You stare up at him as he closes the door, moving to sit on the floor again. He maneuvers you in your blanket burrito so you’re sitting up, tugging you back against his chest. You wince at the pressure between your legs and pelvis in the position, trying to shift in your confines to ease the ache. Simon unscrews the cap on the water bottle, your eyes drawn to the scabbed bite mark on his right arm. You remember doing that, sinking your teeth in until he bled, the coppery tang still on your tongue. The feral need to win the battle of wills, the determination blinding you to the pain in your shoulder where he had sunk his own teeth into you.
One of many places.
Simon lifts the bottle to your lips, holding it steady as you eagerly gulp down the water. It eases the ache in your throat, the dryness making your tongue feel like it was coated in sand. It’s like finding an oasis after stumbling through the burning desert.
There’s a slight tremble to Simon’s hand as he holds the bottle for you, tilting it slowly as you guzzle down the contents. A sour edge borders his scent, something you pick up as awareness continues to return to you. Your brows furrow as you sit there, trying to make sense of the thoughts swirling through your mind as the sourness in his scent intensifies.
You finish off the water bottle, taking in a few deep breaths. “Simon?” You say quietly, your voice not quite as hoarse as it had been thanks to the water.
“I fucking knew it.” He breathes, his body tensing behind you.
“Simon.” You say, trying to wiggle out of the blanket burrito you've been confined in, looking like a fish flopping around.
You finally manage to flop yourself over his leg, rolling out of the blanket. You lay there for a moment, trying not to show any sign of the pain in your body from the exertion. You push yourself up, pushing past the pain as you lean on your arm. You're slightly out of breath from your efforts, taking a moment to breathe.
“Fucking look at you.” He breathes, eyes trailing the brutal picture you paint sitting there.
You raise your eyebrows, scanning his exposed skin. “Look at you.” You counter, bite marks and scratches littering his arms, and you know there's more under his shirt and mask.
You push past the confusing, contradictory thoughts, the tickling in your mind telling you to stay back, to let him work through what he has to work through and not risk making the sour scent coming off of him worse. You can’t hide the pained groan you let out as you push yourself onto shaking hands and knees, half crawling, half dragging yourself across the short distance to him.
You plant yourself next to him with a heavy sigh, leaning on one hip as you face him. You ignore the throbbing between your thighs, the discomfort in your body as you prop yourself up in front of him, planting one hand between his thick thighs still spread on the floor.
“Yeah, I may be hurting right now, but it's because you quite literally fucked the soul out of me.” You lean slightly so you're looking him in the eye. “I don't regret it, and I wouldn't change anything. Hell, I would have let you go another round this morning if you hadn't put me through however many rounds last night.” You can’t handle the discomfort of sitting anymore, flopping yourself back down onto the floor, resting your head on his leg as you try to find a comfortable position. “Shit, I'm gonna have to take up yoga if you keep trying to fold me into some of those positions.”
The ache in your muscles isn’t all from the lengthy activities last night. You distinctly remember having your knees pressed against your chest several times.
“Lucky you didn't make me pull a hamstring or something.” You continue, staring up into his dubious gaze. You roll onto your side, immediately regretting it as your sore hip presses into the floor, but you refuse to show your discomfort for his sake. “If you're really that concerned, then take me to see Dr. Keller. Plop me in a wheelchair and wheel me over there.”
You go quiet, staring up at him for a moment. He's barely moved since you flopped your way out of the blanket like a fish. You can't tell what he's thinking, only that the sourness is gone from his scent. The silence is tense despite the easing of his discomfort, hanging heavy over the both of you. You sink your teeth into your sore lip, raising your brows as you wait for some kind of response, some acknowledgement, some mutual sharing of the thoughts running through his head. It only feels courteous after he simultaneously rearranged your guts, made you cry, and fucked you like a real alpha.
“Are you going to say anything?” You finally break the silence, blinking up at him.
His shoulders lift as he inhales deeply, panic shooting through you for a moment as you wait for some kind of rejection or anger. “I miss when your thoughts were inside your head.”
You stare at him in surprise for a moment before biting your lip to try and hide your smile. “I thought you hated that about me.”
“I take it back.” He says, reaching forward to brush his fingers across your jaw.
A quiet purr rumbles in your chest as you lean into his touch, nuzzling against his hand. You stare up at him, holding his intense gaze fearlessly. Something stirs in the back of your mind as a low growl rumbles in his chest.
“Fucking hell.” He growls, moving his hand from your face to adjust his sweatpants, the musky scent of arousal thickening in the air.
“Well, you're on your own with that.” You say, pushing yourself up from where you're laying. “I am all fucked out.” You flop over onto the floor, facing away from him.
He hums, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Might have to call Johnny in. I'm sure he's all worked up from last night. He'd wrap those pretty lips around my cock in a heartbeat.”
Despite the deep throbbing, burning pain in your pelvis, you feel yourself becoming aroused at the mental picture of Johnny kneeling between Simon's legs, mouth wrapped around that thick cock. Will he still taste like you? Johnny would know.
“Fuck.” You breathe, trying to calm the dampness starting to slick your pussy again. You scramble for any distraction, anything to think of besides Simon folding Johnny in half on the bed and growling as he fucks his beta just as roughly as he did you last night. “Simon?” You breathe, glad your legs are too tired to press together for friction.
He hums, still palming himself over his sweatpants.
“How did we get on the floor?” You ask.
“Was between the ninth and tenth rounds.” He says. “When I made you ride me, all needy and whiny.” He shifts behind you, starting to crawl toward you. “Couldn't even lift yourself up. Touched your clit once and had you cumming immediately, sensitive little thing.”
You bite back a moan as his fingers slip between your thighs, dragging through your aching folds. “Okay, okay.” You reach back, trying to slap his hand away. “‘S too much.” You whine. “Gonna drag myself across the hall so I can take a hot bath.”
You lift yourself up onto your arms, your legs too tired to even push up onto your knees again. You pathetically attempt to drag your body towards his door, Simon letting out a quiet sigh. He hooks his arm under your knees, tugging you back closer to him.
He shifts up onto his knees, letting out a sigh. “Let me find your knickers and I'll take you.”
He helps you into your underwear and the shirt you wore yesterday before he scoops you up off the floor far too easily. It’s a short walk down the hallway to your room, your body still shivering a bit from the cold.
He sets you on the edge of your bed before going into the bathroom to turn on the water for the tub. You wonder if he’ll do it, if he’ll push past that barrier and allow the intimacy of the moment, or if what had transpired last night had been enough, had pushed that barrier to its extreme.
You watch him as he comes back out, standing in front of you. He no longer looks like the opposing figure you had once seen him as. He's still large, but he's lost the intensity and danger. Even now with his shoulders tensed and hands curled into fists, you're not intimidated or afraid. You can tell he's nervous, hesitant. This is a big move for him, and you're not sure he wants to make it yet.
“You can go get Kyle, or even John.” You say quietly, gently as you stare up at him. “I won't be upset. We've made a lot of jumps over the last few days. If you need to take a step back, I don't blame you.”
Something flashes in his eyes. Relief or maybe gratitude, perhaps both. You wouldn't blame him for not wanting to be so vulnerable, especially after the vulnerability he showed last night. It’s asking a lot of him, and you’re scared to push him too far, make him retreat into himself again after so much progress.
“I'll...go find someone else.” He says.
You nod, giving him a small smile. “Okay.”
He turns away from you, heading back towards the door.
“Simon?” You call and he stops, turning back to face you. “Go easy on Johnny. Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself.”
He lets out a sigh, rolling his eyes. “Fucking hell.”
You're fighting the dampness in your underwear as you walk with John towards the med center. It's been almost three days since your first time with Simon and you've been fighting arousal almost every minute of every day. Despite the physical ache still lingering from the intense fucking you had done, you haven’t been able to stop the aching arousal from dripping into your underwear constantly.
This isn't your normal scheduled appointment with Dr. Keller. You wanted to see her to make sure nothing was wrong. You hadn't felt like this after your first time with any of the others. Sure you had gotten aroused every time you thought about it, but it hadn't been uncontrollable like this.
The cool air in the med center is a blessing as you head for Dr. Keller’s office, John following behind you. You shift on your feet as you wait for the door to open, the brush of your arm against John’s almost electric. You sink your teeth into your lip, trying to stop the arousal from intensifying just in the presence of your alpha. He knows something is off, probably able to smell the intense arousal that has plagued you for the last three days. You haven’t done anything about it, trying to allow yourself to rest and recover after Simon fucked the sense out of you.
Dr. Keller opens the door after what feels like a lifetime, and you quickly inhale the calming beta scent wafting out of the room, hoping it will ease the ache between your thighs.
“Come on in.” She says, holding the door open for you.
You stand on your toes, kissing John’s cheek in parting before entering Dr. Keller’s office. You take your usual seat, lowering yourself gingerly into the cushions. It’s a relief compared to the brutal plastic of the benches in the mess.
Dr. Keller sits in her usual spot at the couch, eyeing the fading marks littering your skin. “This isn’t our usual appointment.” She starts, her brows furrowing a bit as she lifts her gaze to your eyes. “Everything alright?”
“I, uh,” You stumble over your words, not having even thought about how you’d bring this up to Dr. Keller. “There’s a situation that’s developed.” You say, leaning back in the chair to try and ease some of the ache between your legs. “I don’t know why it’s happening or why it’s started now, but uh,” You swallow the nervous lump in your throat. “Simon and I had our first time a couple days ago. Things got...heated.” You scratch at the healing teeth marks on the back of your neck. “Very heated. It was like we...”
“Lost control?” She suggests, seeming to almost know what you were going to say.
You nod. “Yeah. Things got a bit...rough before we even had sex and then...when we did, things got almost...violent.” The word tastes bad on your tongue, but you’re not sure how else to describe it. Rough wasn’t enough, but perhaps violent was a bit too much. “And ever since then, I’ve just been constantly horny and I don’t know what to do. It wasn’t like this with the others, not even John.”
Dr. Keller hums, staring at you for a moment. “It sounds to me like your instincts are out of control.” She says simply. “You’re both purebreds, which means you’re both more sensitive to your instincts, scents, emotions, even physical things like body language. You’re more sensitive to each other, too. In those moments of intense emotion, it’s not uncommon for things to get a bit out of hand, for instincts to take over, especially when it’s a new relationship.”
“That makes sense.” You say. “He always seems to just know things, sense things about me that the others don’t. Sometimes it’s like he knows what I’m thinking. Both times it happened there was just something so...animalistic about it.”
“Mhm.” Dr. Keller hums, nodding in agreement. “There’s always a risk when purebreds are together that things may slip out of control. Your omega peeked her head out because she sensed a virile alpha, and his alpha came out to meet her. No matter how much control one has over their instincts, moments like that can throw all the hard work and training out the window.”
“Is there a way to stop that?” You ask.
“It will start to even out on its own to a point, as you and Lieutenant Riley adjust to one another, but there is something that may help both of you. I was going to bring this up during our next appointment, but this might be a better time. Captain Price and I discussed it while Lieutenant Riley was away.” She sits back on the couch, crossing her legs. “I know you know that purebreds have stronger instincts, and are more sensitive and aware of them. While that can be helpful in certain situations, I’m sure you also know it can be a hindrance, especially in moments of high tension or highly emotional situations.”
You nod. “Yeah. I know.”
“What you likely haven’t been told,” Dr. Keller continues. “Is that it’s possible to learn to balance those instincts, and even utilize them.”
You blink at her. It is news to you. No one has ever told you that was a possibility. You’ve only been taught that your heightened instincts made you more desirable, and how they can help you learn to serve your alpha and your pack.
“Lieutenant Riley likely learned how to balance and utilize his during his military training. Regardless of if he was taught directly or not, his training taught him how to stay calm in tense, stressful, highly emotional situations. It also taught him how to utilize his instincts for his job.”
“That’s why he can read me so easily.” You say, the pieces beginning to come together.
“Purebreds are more sensitive to things like scents. Your noses can detect subtle changes, even lingering scents, things non-purebreds can’t. That makes it easier to read emotions, and also predict potential threats.” Dr. Keller’s lips twitch in a smile. “That also means you’re more sensitive to things like arousal.”
Your cheeks flush as you think of all the times you’ve been turned on by Simon during training or one of the other members of your pack. He’s known the whole time. He could sense it long before the others could.
How did he keep control of himself for so long?
“How do I learn to do what he does?” You ask.
“I can help you learn to balance your instincts so you’re less vulnerable to them, but only another purebred skilled in instinctual control can help you learn to utilize them.” She says.
You let out a breath, sinking down lower in the chair. “No one’s ever told me that was a possibility.”
“They wouldn’t have.” She says. “There would have been no benefit for the institute to teach you how to do it. It would have made you too aware of your skills and abilities, the control you can have over others. They want subservient omegas that bow to their alpha. It’s hard to do that once you’re aware of what you could be.”
“Can...can we do that? Work on my instincts?” You ask.
Dr. Keller nods. “Of course. Captain Price has already voiced his approval when I spoke to him about it. I think it will be very beneficial for you to at least learn to balance your emotions.”
“How do we start?” You ask.
“The most important part of all of this is your breathing. I know I’ve said it before, but that’s crucial to keeping your head clear and aware. Your breathing starts to pick up, your instincts kick in.”
You nod. “Okay.”
“We can start with the easiest exercise, which is a trigger point exercise.” She says. “It utilizes common trigger points on your body that elicit instinctual responses when pressure is applied to them. There’s trigger points all over your body. On your legs, arms, sides, and of course, the neck.”
You nod again. “O-Okay.”
“We wouldn’t start with the neck, since that elicits the strongest response and would be too overwhelming at first. We’ll work up to that.” Dr. Keller says, standing up. “It’ll be easiest to do it sitting on the floor.”
You shift off the chair, easing yourself onto the floor, sitting cross legged. You can’t help but feel nervous, despite the fact you trust Dr. Keller. You’re branching into new territory, something you didn’t even know was a thing until a few minutes ago.
“Breathe.” She says, sitting cross legged in front of you. “The most important part of this is the breath. It’s going to feel intense, your body will react no matter how hard you try and stop it. Let it happen, let your body do what it’s meant to do and just be aware of those instincts starting to surface. Don’t think too hard on them, just let them be there and focus on your breathing. Okay?”
You let out a breath. “Yeah.”
“I’ll know if things start to be too much, and we’ll stop immediately.” She says. “Hold out your arms.”
You do as she says, her hands warm as she wraps her fingers around them, supporting them.
“Close your eyes.” She directs, her thumbs coming to rest right below the inner bend of your elbow on the inside of your forearms. “Deep breaths.”
You take a deep breath in and she presses down with her thumbs.
You can’t stop it as your body tenses, panic beginning to bubble up in you. It’s too much, the feelings wrong, the alarms in your brain starting to go off as your body detects some kind of threat. Your arms try to tug free of her grasp but she doesn't let go, your shoulders lifting to try and protect your neck while your hands can’t.
Your breathing has picked up, near hyperventilating as the instincts flood your mind. You don’t know if you should run or hide or lay there and play dead. Your hands have curled into fists, fingers shaking from the adrenaline pumping through you.
“Breathe.” Dr. Keller’s voice cuts through the alarms in your mind, reminding you of why you’re doing this in the first place.
You fight to take a deep breath in, your breath catching and hitching in your chest. It almost hurts as you let it out, your lungs still trying to push air through rapidly. You continue to fight through the thoughts and instincts, through the natural reaction to panic about a threat that’s not even there. You’re in Dr. Keller’s office, sitting on the floor with her, trying to learn to balance your instincts.
Slowly you begin to gain control over your breathing, easing the ache in your lungs as you take deep breaths in and let slow breaths out. The instincts begin to calm, the rational part of your brain beginning to return as you become aware of the thoughts and emotions swirling in your head.
“Good.” Dr. Keller says, releasing your arms.
You’re shaking just a bit as the instincts begin to ease away, the threat fading. You open your eyes, still breathing deeply as the swirling thoughts in your mind start to die down. Your shoulders have relaxed, the need to protect your neck fading away.
“Good job.” Dr. Keller says, smiling at you. “It will take a lot of practice to master, but now you know you can do it. It’s not foolproof, there will be times where the situation is too much, but this can help keep incidents to a minimum.”
“Thank you.” You say, looking at her, emotions starting to rise again in you. Not ones of fear or panic, though. Quite the opposite, in fact. “For everything you've done. When I first got here, I wasn't even a person. I was just a title, a status. But you and my pack have helped change that, have helped me realize I'm an actual person, not just an omega.”
“Good.” She says, smiling softly at you. “I'm glad you're starting to unlearn the things society has taught you, and I'm glad we've been able to help you in that journey.” She takes your hand, squeezing it gently. “You are far more than your status, far more than what you can do for someone else. You are a wonderful human who has managed to keep such kindness despite everything you've been through.”
A smile tugs at your lips, tears burning behind your eyes. “You really think that?”
“I know it.” She says, squeezing your hand again before letting it go. “Come on, let's get you back to the barracks before lunch.”
Breathing. That's the most important part. Just focus on your breath.
If only it were that easy.
You've been up since 3 AM, a painful ache throbbing in your lower belly. Your thighs are slick, your breaths coming in quiet pants from the intensity of the need pulsing through you. It's only gotten worse as the minutes have slowly ticked by. Breathing through it hasn't helped any, and neither has shoving your hand into your pajama pants.
You huff out an exasperated breath, reaching for your phone. Your eyes scan the contacts, trying to decide who will be best to ask. You let out a breath, your finger hovering over the number of the only other person that might be up at this hour, who will be up soon regardless.
You type out the quick text, holding your breath as you click send.
I need you.
Your phone buzzes almost immediately with a reply.
Come here.
It was like he could almost sense it, waiting for you to reach out, to ask. You throw the blankets off you, leaving your phone on your nightstand and even forgoing slippers as you make for your door, blinking against the brightness in the hallway as you pad down the hall to his door.
You knock softly before pushing it open, stepping into the darkness. It takes you a moment to adjust after the bright fluorescents in the hallway, blinking the spots in your vision away before you can make out the soft light coming from a phone screen.
You make your way over to the bed, the body shifting to make room as you approach. You hear the deep inhale, the quiet groan as you drop your sleep pants before climbing in next to him.
“Christ, what's got you so worked up?” His voice rumbles, a hand trailing down your side.
“Dunno.” You say, leaning into his touch. “Woke up like this. Can't get it to stop.”
There's a quiet rustle of fabric before he's leaning down to kiss you, lips slightly chapped as they move against your own. The hand on your side drifts downward, hiking your thigh up before he slips lower, palming you over your panties.
“Fucking hell, soaked right through.” He groans against your lips, holding his hand still as you grind against his palm. “Needy little thing.”
“Please,” You whine, nipping at his lips. “Please.”
He curses, pushing the fabric to the side before pressing two fingers into you. They slide right in, aided by the copious slick and your own attempt to ease the ache.
You groan quietly against his lips, his mouth moving down your throat, sucking marks into your skin to match the fading ones. Your arms wrap around his neck, holding him there as he slowly fucks you with his fingers. It’s not enough, your pussy clenching around his fingers in search of something else. Something more.
You grind down on his hand, the ache in your belly intensifying. “Need you,” You whimper, your thighs clenching around his hand. “Please...Please Simon.”
He groans against your throat before pulling his fingers from you, rolling over so you're on top of him. He lifts his hips, your hands gripping his sides for leverage so you don’t fall off as he pulls his sleep pants down until his cock is free, already hard and you haven't even touched him. You settle back on top of him as he lowers himself back onto the bed, your clothed slit settling over his cock.
You drag your hips back and forth a couple times, moaning as the heat of his cock pulses through the dampness of your panties. Sweat has begun to bead on your skin and you tug your shirt off, dropping it onto the floor beside the bed. You stare at him, or at least where you assume his face is. You can’t see much, the room nearly pitch black except for the small bit of light coming in through the window. It sends a shiver down your spine, your omega begging for some kind of light, something to ease the vulnerability the darkness threatens.
Hands grip your thighs, fingers digging into your skin. You’re brought back to reality, back into the moment. You’re sitting on top of Simon’s cock, hands pressed into his stomach. Despite the vulnerabile position, you’re hardly in danger of what the darkness might be hiding. Simon knows, he’d know even in this position. Alphas are always aware of their surroundings, always ready for a threat, especially in the presence of an omega. Nothing could ever hurt you with him this close.
You swallow the nervous lump in your throat, easing the fear away as you take a couple deep breaths in and out. Breathing. That’s the key.
You lift yourself up tugging your panties to the side as you grab his cock with the other hand. You drag his head through your dripping folds a couple of times before lining him up and sinking down onto his cock
The stretch has your legs shaking. Despite having taken him before, it's almost too much at this angle. The sensations have your mind going blank, forcing every last thought except for Simon and his cock out of your mind. You begin to rock your hips, sinking down on him with every press downward. Your hands brace against his stomach, feeling the flex of his muscles under you as he fights to control himself, as he fights to let you keep control as you sink down onto him fully, sitting nestled against his hips.
You both curse at the feeling, his grip on your thighs tightening as you give yourself a minute to breathe.
Just breathe. Focus on your breathing.
Simon rolls his hips up, your breath catching in your throat. Your nails dig into his stomach, all thought of control going out the window as you begin to move, bouncing yourself on his cock.
He guides your movements with his hands, lifting his hips to meet your thrusts. You're trying to be quiet, but you can't help the moans and whines being pulled from your lips. You don't want to wake the others, draw them from their precious sleep, something you had been trying to avoid.
Simon muffles a particularly loud moan by shoving two of his fingers in your mouth, the two that had been inside you. You can taste yourself on his skin, your tongue lapping at the two digits.
You're going to cum soon, your thighs squeezing around his hips. Despite the fact it's only been a couple of days, the pent up frustration of constantly being horny and not being able to do anything about it has you teetering over the edge from just a few rolls of your hips and the stretch of his cock.
His other hand moves to your clit, rubbing tight circles over the pulsing bud. It's too much, the sensations in your body and the relief of the ache inside you. You cum with a cry around his fingers, your body shuddering with pleasure. He plants his feet on the bed, thrusting up into you as he chases his own high.
He spills into you, groaning as he makes a mess of your pussy. He yanks you down against his chest, still hard inside you, his hips rolling as he continues to thrust into you.
You don't have to see his face to know you're nowhere near done. For once he's going to follow in Johnny's footsteps, trading his morning workout for a different one.
“Christ almighty, ye look like an animal got a hold of ye.” Johnny says, gripping your chin as he turns your head back and forth, his eyes scanning every mark on your skin, the old fading ones and the new ones from this morning.
“I think one did.” Kyle says, pulling the collar of your shirt down to check for more.
“Don’t worry, I bit him back.” You shrug.
They both pause, sharing a look before looking back to you.
“Did ye now?” Johnny says, releasing your chin.
“Yup. Made him bleed.” You say nonchalantly.
“Bloody hell.” Kyle says, releasing the collar of your shirt.
“Feisty little thing.” Johnny says, going to poke your nose but you turn, snapping at his finger instead.
Kyle chuckles as Johnny yanks his hand away before your teeth can close around his finger. “Don’t know what you expected, mate.” He says with a smirk.
You lean over, sinking your teeth into Johnny’s shoulder playfully. “You’re very biteable.”
“Am I?” He smirks, tugging you closer. “Only problem is,” He pulls your shirt collar to the side. “I bite back.”
His teeth sink into the skin at the junction of your neck and shoulder, biting until you let out a quiet sound. He releases you, dragging his tongue across the new mark on your skin. Kyle presses up against your back, trapping you between the two of them.
“Easy.” Kyle says, pressing a kiss to your new bite mark. “Gonna make Simon think it's a competition.” His hand settles on your waist, slowly sliding higher and higher as he presses kisses across your shoulders.
Your scent intensifies in the air as heat begins to pool between your thighs. You squirm on the couch, seeking out relief from the ache between your legs. It’s been a steady pulsing since this morning despite the thorough fucking Simon had given you.
“Fucking hell.” Johnny groans, shoving you back into Kyle’s chest before undoing the button of your pants, ripping them off your legs and tossing them to the floor.
He pushes your legs up until they’re almost pressed against your chest before shouldering his way between them. You let out a quiet groan as your sore muscles are stretched, pushed into what’s becoming a very familiar position. Johnny lets your thighs drop onto his shoulders, relieving some of the ache as his hands grip your ass, holding your hips up.
Your lips part in a gasp as he presses his face against your underwear, inhaling deeply. A long, low groan falls from his lips as your thick scent goes straight to his head. He laps at your underwear, adding to the dampness already soaking into the fabric. Kyle’s arms wrap around you, holding you still as Johnny mouths at your pussy through your underwear.
A thrill runs through you at the thought of him eating you out on the rec room couch where anyone could walk in and see. It won’t take long for your scent to waft through the barracks, for John and Simon to realize what’s going on. All they’d have to do is walk down the hall and stand in the doorway to watch their betas make you cum. What would Simon think seeing Johnny’s head between your thighs for the first time, instead of just hearing about it? Would he lose control? Would he snap and tear Johnny away so he could fuck you again himself? Or would he hold Johnny’s head between your thighs until he makes you cum before he makes Johnny fuck you while he takes Johnny from behind?
“Shit.” You gasp, clinging to Kyle’s arms as warmth rushes through you, forcing slick to gush from your pussy.
Johnny moans lewdly, shoving your panties to the side before slurping at the slick dribbling from your hole. A shudder runs through you as you finally feel his mouth against your skin, your head tilting back against Kyle’s shoulder.
“Feel good?” Kyle asks, his breath fanning your ear.
“Uh huh.” You nod as Johnny’s tongue flicks through your folds. “Fuck, feels so good.”
Johnny groans against your pussy, his hips rutting against the couch. You wonder if he can taste Simon on you, the three loads he dumped into your pussy this morning. You’d showered, but you know scents linger in other areas longer than others.
You watch the flexing of Johnny’s ass as he grinds against the couch cushion, rocking his hips desperately for friction. You wouldn’t complain if Johnny bent you in half and fucked you right here. You’d take both of them happily if it means the aching in your core is eased just slightly.
Kyle’s hand slips between your legs, gripping Johnny by the mohawk. He groans against your pussy, the sound vibrating through you. “Make her cum with your mouth and I’ll suck you off.”
Johnny lets out a moan that would make most porn stars jealous before he eagerly slurps at your clit. The sound is wet and depraved, but you don’t care, your hips pressing against his mouth in search of more. He eats you like a man starved, slurping your slick like he’s parched and it’s the only thing that can ease his thirst. You’re a trembling mess in Kyle’s arms, hips grinding against Johnny’s face as you get closer and closer to your orgasm.
“Gonna cum on his tongue? Gonna give him what he wants?” Kyle groans in your ear, fingers plucking at your nipples through your shirt.
The sensations are almost too much, your thighs trembling around Johnny’s head. Kyle pinches your nipple as Johnny sucks hard at your clit, your orgasm hitting you like a runaway train. Your thighs clamp around Johnny’s head, smothering him against your pussy as you let out a high pitched whine. You’re not sure he can breathe, but you doubt he’d complain about dying from suffocation in this position.
Johnny continues to lap at your pussy as you shake in the aftershocks of your orgasm. It’s nearing overstimulation, a whine leaving your lips as you push at Johnny’s head. Kyle sinks his fingers into Johnny’s mohawk again, letting you flop back against the couch as he hauls Johnny to his feet.
Their lips meet in a sloppy kiss, all tongue and teeth as Kyle licks your slick from Johnny’s face, tasting you in his mouth. Your body is thrumming, pussy still fluttering as you watch them. Your lips part as Kyle sinks to his knees in front of Johnny, palming at the prominent bulge in his pants. You watch with bated breath as Kyle tugs Johnny’s pants down, Johnny’s hard, weeping cock springing free.
Kyle wraps his hand around the base, slowly jerking Johnny’s cock a couple of times. Johnny’s eyes are blown as he stares down at Kyle, lips parted as he pants softly. His flushed face is still shiny from your slick and Kyle’s tongue, looking like the symbol of lust and depravity. You all look like it, Kyle kneeling on the floor with Johnny’s cock in hand and you laying on the couch almost half naked, bearing witness to the intimate event about to transpire.
Kyle leans forward, dragging his tongue across Johnny’s tip, collecting the precum dripping from his engorged head. Your teeth sink into your lip as Kyle takes Johnny’s cock in his mouth, slowly sinking down his length. It’s warm in the rec room, and you're surprised there’s no steam on the windows from the heat radiating off the three of you.
Kyle pulls back until just the tip of Johnny’s cock is in his mouth before sinking down again, taking him fully into his mouth. Johnny is panting, one hand holding the back of Kyle’s head, the other resting on Kyle’s hand where he’s holding Johnny’s hips. Kyle bobs his head on Johnny’s cock, and you can see the strain in Johnny’s body, muscles tensed as he tries to keep control, tries to keep himself from fucking into Kyle’s mouth.
You shift on the couch, turning on your side to watch the debauched scene in front of you. Drool leaks out the side of Kyle’s mouth as he takes even more of Johnny’s cock in his mouth, his nose almost touching the trail of dark hair on Johnny’s stomach. Drool nearly seeps out of your own mouth as you watch them, so focused and in tune with each other. Johnny’s close, you can tell by the way his breathing has changed, how strong his scent is in the air.
“Fucking, just like tha’.” Johnny moans, his accent thickening as he loses control of himself. “Feels so fucking good.”
You stare at Kyle, your eyes dropping to the prominent bulge in his pants. An idea forms in your mind as you push yourself off the couch, slipping behind Kyle to kneel on the cool floor. The tile feels good against your heated skin, the pressure on your kneecaps forgotten as you reach around Kyle’s body, undoing his pants. You reach into his boxers, pulling his cock free. It’s hard and heavy in your hand, the thought of him being aroused just from watching you getting eaten out and sucking Johnny’s cock making your pussy pulse. Kyle lets out a groan as you begin to jerk his cock, the sound vibrating into Johnny, an echoing moan leaving Johnny’s lips.
A string of curses fills the air from Johnny, his fingers digging into the back of Kyle’s head. “Do tha’ again.”
You jerk Kyle’s cock in time with his own movements on Johnny’s cock, resting against his back as you watch them both. Kyle continues to moan around Johnny’s cock, his own twitching in your hand.
“Fuck...” Kyle groans, pulling off of Johnny’s cock for a second. He continues to pump Johnny’s length as he leans back against you, his hips thrusting into your hand.
“Feel good?” You murmur in his ear, pausing to squeeze your hand around the base of his cock. “Make Johnny cum with your mouth and I’ll let you cum.”
Kyle groans, his free hand releasing Johnny’s hip to squeeze your thigh before he takes Johnny into his mouth again.
“Gonnae cum.” Johnny moans, unable to stop his hips from rocking, fucking his cock into Kyle’s mouth.
You pump Kyle’s cock faster, his hips jerking as he gets closer and closer to the edge. He lets out a long moan around Johnny’s cock, Johnny letting out one of his own as his hips jerk almost violently. His head tilts back, mouth open as he cums in Kyle’s mouth, his fingers closing around Kyle’s wrists.
Kyle releases Johnny’s cock, shifting slightly so he can tilt his head back towards you and you know exactly what he wants. You lean over his shoulder, pressing your lips to his. Kyle passes some of Johnny’s cum to you on his tongue, the fluid salty and slightly bitter on your own tongue. You continue to kiss Kyle, drool and cum slipping down your chins as you jerk his cock faster, bringing him closer and closer to the edge.
“Fucking christ.” Johnny curses, watching the two of you as he tucks his cock back into his pants.
Kyle spills on your hand and the floor, moaning into your mouth as he squeezes your thigh. He pulls away from your lips, lifting your hand to his mouth to lick his own cum off your skin.
Johnny lets out another string of curses you can’t even begin to try and translate as he watches you both. “Gonnae be the death of me.”
You let out a laugh as you lean your head on Kyle’s shoulder, just catching a dark shadow moving away from the rec room door out of the corner of your eye.
Your bare feet pad silently against the cold tile as you make your way down the hallway. You shiver in the cool air of the barracks, the plain white walls offering no warmth against your bare skin. The door is cracked open but you knock anyway, not wanting to just barge in.
“Enter.” The gruff voice calls from the other side of the door.
You push the door open, slipping in before closing it behind you. You pad over to the desk, rubbing your eyes.
“Hi sweetheart.” John says, leaning back in his chair to stare up at you. “You’re up late.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” You say, moving around the desk to stand in front of him. “Missed you.”
He sits back as you crowd into his space, straddling the chair before sitting yourself comfortably on his lap. He grunts quietly as you flop down, wrapping your arms around his neck. He shifts you just slightly, his hands resting on your bare thighs.
You press your hips against him, resting your head against your arm as you try to get as close to him as you can. His fingers dig into your thighs for a moment before they slowly slip up under your baggy shirt. They rise higher and higher until they’re cupping your ass, squeezing your cheeks for a moment.
“You forgot your knickers.” He says, tilting his head closer to your ear.
You shrug, pressing your face into his neck. “Too uncomfortable.”
He hums, picking up the arousal quickly fogging the air in the small office. “Needy little thing, huh.” He groans as you push your hips down against him.
You let out a quiet sound, licking at his neck. “You’re the only one that hasn’t made me cum yet today.”
His hands leave your ass, pushing you back so he can stare at your face. He cups your cheeks, staring up into your eyes. “You’re exhausted.” He says, his thumbs brushing the puffy skin beneath your eyes.
You pout, pressing your hips closer to him. “But I need it.” You lean your head down on his shoulder. “I feel like I’m in heat.”
“Simon has that effect on people.” He says, adjusting your position on his lap again.
You grind down against him again, smearing your wetness on his pants. Your pussy feels raw and swollen from the events of the day, yet you can’t help the neediness, the desperation pulsing through you. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, every nerve ending alive and desperately seeking relief from the arousal pulsing through you.
“Please, alpha.” You whine, fingers curling into his shirt. “Need you.”
John sighs but he relents, lifting you up slightly so he can undo his pants. You lick your lips in anticipation as he frees his half hard cock, pumping it a couple times before pressing the head against your slit. You grind down against it, whimpering as it catches on your clit.
“Easy.” He scolds you, guiding his cock to your hole, easing you down onto it. It’s only half hard, but it slides in easily thanks to your arousal.
You let out a whine at the stretch, your legs shaking as John lowers you until you’re seated in his lap again, his cock buried fully inside of you. You clench around him, your body finally beginning to relax as you sit on your alpha’s cock.
“I’m busy.” He says, pushing his chair back up to his desk. “Make yourself cum.”
Your pussy clenches around him as he goes back to his work, your hips starting to rock back and forth. Your teeth sink into your lip at the sensation of his cock moving inside you, your fingers digging into his shoulders. He pays you no mind as he continues to work, his indifference stirring something inside you as you plant your feet onto the floor, pushing yourself up on his cock.
Despite his attempts at keeping focused on his work, he can’t hide the quiet groans leaving his lips as you bounce on his lap, fucking yourself on his cock. It’s thrilling, his disinterest in what you’re doing, allowing you to use him, to take what you need. You had spent years expecting it to be the other way around, for your alpha to use you whenever he wanted, to be forced to spread your legs anywhere at any time when he got in the mood.
Sure, you do that now, but it’s because you want to. You want to fuck your pack like an animal, you want them to take you when they feel the need, you want them to ease the ache that’s settled into your body now that the connection between the five of you has begun to change, to develop.
This, though, this is different as you use John’s cock for your own pleasure, clinging to him as you desperately seek relief. He doesn't even have his hands on you, typing away at his computer instead, fully focused on his work. How he’s doing it, you’re not sure, though you suppose he has to be very good at staying focused even in the most distracting moments.
You clench around him, circling your hips on his lap as you try to get a reaction out of him. He offers you nothing but quiet grunts and groans, not even looking at you as you fuck yourself on his cock.
You lean forward, sinking your teeth into his earlobe. He finally reacts, letting out a grunt from the pain. His arm wraps around your waist, squeezing your side until you relent.
“Fucking minx.” He groans, keeping his arm locked around your back. “Gonna make yourself cum? Make a mess of my cock?”
You whine, legs straining as you continue to bounce on his length, his cock hard and pulsing inside of you. He’s close too, you can tell by the way his breathing has picked up, by the low growls rumbling in his chest.
You shift your hips again, moaning at the way his cock brushes against that spot inside you at this angle. You’re tempted to lift yourself up, to try and replicate the party trick Simon had shown you, but you’re too tired for that, too desperate to cum as soon as possible. You’re shaking, barely able to move as you push closer and closer to your orgasm, John’s arm around your back starting to move you, to give you support as you chase your high. You are exhausted, your body aching. Your pussy is sore from Simon this morning, your knees aching from kneeling on the rec room floor, your thighs burning from the exertion of riding both alphas in your pack in one day.
You fall against John’s chest as you cum, slick coating his cock as you finally reach your release. You tremble in his arms as he shifts his hips under you, bucking up into you a few more times before he cums himself, spilling into you. You moan as his warmth fills you, cock twitching inside your aching pussy.
You go to lift yourself off John’s lap but he forces you back down, pushing his cock and his release back inside you. You let out a whine at the feeling, your pussy fluttering around him.
“You wanted my cock so badly,” He growls in your ear, his arm still hooked around your back. “Then you can sit here on it until I’m done.”
You let out a quiet whine, legs squeezing around his hips as he releases you, returning to his work again. You lay your head on his shoulder, breathing deeply as you focus on the feeling of his softening cock inside you. His cum is slowly sliding out around his cock, your hips twitching every so often as you try to ignore the feeling of him buried inside you.
A shaky breath leaves your lips as you sit there, clinging to him as the ache between your legs finally starts to fade, eased away by your alpha’s cock buried inside your pussy.
NEXT ->
@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @protokosmonaut
@fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites
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#call of duty#call of duty fic#task force 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#Simon ghost Riley x reader#Simon Riley x reader#John price x reader#captain price x reader#Johnny soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#kyle gaz Garrick x reader#gaz x reader#omegaverse#alpha/beta/omega dynamics#a/b/o
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ALT: This video shows blades of grass moving in the wind on a beautiful day at NASA’s Michoud Assembly Facility in New Orleans. In the background, we see the 212-foot-core stage for the powerful SLS (Space Launch System) rocket used for Artemis I. The camera ascends, revealing the core stage next to a shimmering body of water as technicians lead it towards NASA’s Pegasus barge. Credit: NASA
The SLS (Space Launch System) Core Stage by Numbers
Technicians with NASA and SLS core stage lead contractor Boeing, along with RS-25 engines lead contractor Aerojet Rocketdyne, an L3Harris Technologies company, are nearing a major milestone for the Artemis II mission. The SLS (Space Launch System) rocket’s core stage for Artemis II is fully assembled and will soon be shipped via barge from NASA’s Michoud Assembly Facility in New Orleans to the agency’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida. Once there, it will be prepped for stacking and launch activities.
Get to know the core stage – by the numbers.
Standing 212 feet tall and measuring 27.6 feet in diameter, the SLS core stage is the largest rocket stage NASA has ever built. Due to its size, the hardware must be shipped aboard NASA’s Pegasus barge.
900 miles
Once loaded, the barge – which was updated to accommodate the giant core stage -- will travel 900 miles to Florida across inland and ocean waterways. Once at Kennedy, teams with our Exploration Ground Systems team will complete checkouts for the core stage prior to stacking preparations.
18 Miles + 500 Sensors
As impressive as the core stage is on the outside, it’s also incredible on the inside. The “brains” of the rocket consist of three flight computers and special avionics systems that tell the rocket what to do. This is linked to 18 miles of cabling and more than 500 sensors and systems to help feed fuel and steer the four RS-25 engines.
8.8 million
Speaking of engines… Our SLS Moon rocket generates approximately 8.8 million pounds of thrust at launch. Two million pounds come from the four powerful RS-25 engines at the base of the core stage, while each of the two solid rocket boosters produces a maximum thrust of 3.6 million pounds. Together, the engines and boosters will help launch a crew of four Artemis astronauts inside NASA’s Orion spacecraft beyond Earth orbit to venture around the Moon.
733,000 Gallons
Achieving the powerful thrust required at launch calls for a large amount of fuel - 733,000 gallons, to be precise. The stage has two huge propellant tanks that hold the super-cooled liquid hydrogen and liquid oxygen that make the rocket “go.” A new liquid hydrogen storage sphere has recently been built at Kennedy, which can store 1.25 million gallons of liquid hydrogen.
Four
The number four doesn’t just apply to the RS-25 engines. It’s also the number of astronauts who will fly inside our Orion spacecraft atop our SLS rocket for the first crewed Artemis mission. When NASA astronauts Reid Wiseman, Christina Koch, and Victor Glover along with CSA astronaut Jeremy Hansen launch, they will be the first astronauts returning to the Moon in more than 50 years.
Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!
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thinking abt fucking ur bfs hot dad after u and him split up....
cw: Dilf!Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader , age gap , unprotected sex , creampie , size kink , AGED UP MEGUMI (he's not actively in the story, just mentioned) , emotional cheating (reader clocks out emotionally before the breakup) , pining for toji b4 breakup, kitchen sex :3 , pet names (doll & lil’ one) , kinda fluffy ending.
wc: 2k-ish
notes: toji had megumi when he was 20 bc i said so, so the gap will make sense. megumi is 25, toji is 45, reader is somewhere around megumi's age.
this is a fic abt fucking ur exes hot dad, do not read if that makes you uncomfortable.
beta read by my muse @loverboyko yet again.
mwah (*still chews on u*)
you stepped into the kitchen of the house your boyfriend- or now ex lived. he still lived with his father, which wasn’t necessarily a problem, he was working on getting his own life together before moving out.
your heart was heavy as you reminisced the memories that this house will forever hold, the warm comforting smell of the house even pulling at your heart. you had originally come to pick up the last of your belongings, wanting to finally move on from the messy split.
but as you turned the corner towards the kitchen- his father was there, leaning against the counter. his muscular frame filling the space. toji’s eyes, cold and piercing, watched your every move. he had to know that you and megumi split, but even then. why was he staring at you like that? there was no way he knew that you had recently thought he was eye candy, drooling at him when you thought his back was turned.
you were happy with megumi, it wasn’t anything like that. you hadn’t dreamed of leaving him, towards the beginning of the relationship at least. but as time went on, megumi seemed to care less. he had you, but he wasn’t fighting to keep you. when the feelings for him were slowly dying, fading away to nothing- you looked towards his father in a different light. no more was it just recognizing he was an attractive male, it was something more, yearning.
"doll," toji grunted, his voice deep and gravelly. you huffed lightly, the name he had called you since you met the guy. it was endearing, something innocent. or it was until the way the simple word started to fall on your ears differently. when your view of him changed. now, it offered no sort of comfort, instead making your cheeks flare and tummy flip.
"what are you doing here? came crawling back to my son?" he joked, smirking slightly. toji was, or used to be a pretty shitty guy. but one night his age finally clicked, he wasn't getting any younger. since then he's tried his best to right some of his wrongs.the joke was distasteful to say the least.the pounding of your heart echoed in your ears as you felt a mix of emotions; anger at toji's rude remark, sadness from the memories of your empty relationship, and a strange, undeniable attraction to this older man who exuded raw, unleashed power.
"i-i just came to get my things," you stammered, the way his eyes staring directly through you made your voice come out more meek than you’d like. toji pushed himself off the counter and began to slowly circle you, his movements predatory. "my son always had some sort of gift when it comes to fumbling the things best for him," he remarked, his eyes roaming over your body.
all the progress toji had made on bettering himself seemed to melt away after meeting you. megumi bringing a pretty lil’ thing like you back to the house was pure hell. it was wrong, gross even for a man his age to look at you and feel his cock swell in his pants. there had been countless nights he locked himself up in his room, fucking his fist to thoughts of you. guilt flooding his post orgasmic state while he cleaned up was routine.
he saw the way you looked at megumi, your eyes shining like he had hung the stars and moon in the sky for you, and you only. your eyes, that's what made him sick with regret and remorse every time he came imagining it was your cunt squeezing him instead of his hand. but eventually, that look he saw you giving megumi changed. there was little to no love left behind your eyes when looking at him. instead, that glimmer he once saw, was now starting to stare directly back at him. he could practically taste the way you were begging him to touch you every time he caught your eyes on him.
"but you're too good for that doll. you deserve a real man to show you what love is." the blush on your cheeks deepened, feeling your body respond to his words despite telling yourself it was ‘wrong’. toji was so different from megumi, who had been gentle and considerate when pursuing you. there was something dangerously enticing about this older, more experienced man. reaching out, toji trailed a finger along your jawline, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
"you want it, don't you?" he murmured, leaning down. his breath hot on your ear, fanning towards your neck."you want me to show you what it's like to be with a man who knows how to make a pretty lil’ thing like you feel loved?" you could hear the smirk in his voice, eyes too busy drinking in the muscle filled chest in front of you.
"y-yes," you whined, body betraying you as you leaned into his touch. toji smiled, a dangerous, seductive smile that promised wicked things. without warning, he grabbed you, pulling your body roughly against his. his lips crashed against your parted mouth, attempting to kiss you. it was messy, teeth clashing while a mixture of your and his spit gathered at the corner of your mouth. you moaned into his mouth, hands clutching at his shirt.
breaking the kiss, toji nibbled and sucked on your neck, leaving marks all over the sensitive skin. one hand gripped your hip, pulling you tightly against his hardening dick. the other slid up your thigh, under your skirt, and sandwiched itself between his cock and your pussy.
"so wet for me already," he growled, his fingers finding your twitchy cunt with ease. you gasped as he teased your clit, experienced movements circling it slowly before sliding two thick digits deep inside you. your eyes slipped down to where he was touching you, deeper than your own fingers could ever reach no matter the position. toji hissed, the back of his hand rubbing against the tent in his pants while his fingers worked on bullying your insides.
"oh.. oh fuck..," you breathed out, your head falling back as he began to thrust against his own hand. it moved his fingers in and out of your sopping heat, his thumb still rubbing at your swollen clit. toji's other arm wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you up after beginning to see the muscles in your legs twitch. he pumped his fingers faster, his touch rough and urgent.
“cum for me, lil’ one," he demanded. "let me feel that tight pussy squeeze down on my fingers." you couldn't hold back anymore. with a broken cry, your pussy clamped down on his fingers, cumming hard while your juices flowed freely. toji growled in satisfaction, feeling the liquid splash against the front of his pants and drip down his wrist, continuing to help you through your orgasm until shaky legs vibrated against his waist. he almost felt bad, looking down at your fucked out expression from two measly fingers.
he lifted you up with ease onto the counter, spreading your legs. he feasted his eyes on your exposed, glistening pussy. with a satisfied grunt, he lowered his head, licking and sucking at your sensitive folds.you grasped his hair while he went down on you. his skilful tongue dipping into your hole before circling your clit again and again. it was a torturous pattern. you swore he could tell when you were about to cum, moving to lap at a different part of your cunt, or changing the tempo to throw your body off.
"toji, please.. s’too much," you begged, using the grip on his hair to push his face further into your pussy. any concerns for him being able to breathe were long gone out of your mind, instead now filled with his wet slurping and your moans. he chuckled, the vibrations sending pleasurable shivers through your core.
"what a needy lil’ thing," he teased before suddenly plunging two fingers back into your cunt while sucking your abused clit between his lips.a scream was cut off from the air being ripped from your lungs, your back arching off the counter as he ripped another powerful orgasm out of you. toji drank down your sweet cum, lapping continuously as your body convulsed uncontrollably.
finally, he stood. you gulped, suddenly taking it into account how much bigger he was than you. his eyes dark and hungry as he quickly shed his clothes, revealing the amount of muscle he still had. your eyes shamelessly drank his form in, landing to gaze at his painfully hard cock. there was a new wave of nerves that flooded through your entire being just taking in how but he was.
grabbing your ankles he didn’t give you much time to continue worrying. he pulled you to the edge of the counter, positioning himself at your entrance. with one swift thrust, he buried himself balls-deep inside.
a cry was ripped from your lungs, eyes rolling back in your head at the feeling of him stretching you open. it felt like you were being split in half. he gave you a few moments to adjust before toji started to move, his hips snapping forward as he fucked you hard and fast. the sound of skin slapping together filled the kitchen, mixed with your moans and garbled praises and his deep gravely grunts and groans.
"take it baby," he grunted. "take all of me." lost in a haze of pleasure, your body overwhelmed by the sensation of being completely filled by this powerhouse of a man. you moved your hips to the best of your ability- meeting his thrusts halfway.
"that's it, fuck me back," toji encouraged, his eyes burning with desire. "wrap those pretty legs around me." you did as he instructed, locking your ankles together behind his back, pulling him even deeper. toji groaned, his pace becoming wilder, his thrusts hitting your gummy sweet spot over and over.
"fuck, 'm gonna cum," he grit out, his teeth clenched as he rammed into you one final time, spilling his seed deep inside your pussy. it didn’t take you long to follow soon after, crying out his name as another mind-blowing orgasm ripped through your body, your walls gripping his cock tightly. toji leaned forward, his chest heaving as he caught his breath, still embedded inside. heavy breathing filled the kitchen, along with the sound of labored breathing.
slowly, toji pulled out, his cum dripping from your battered pussy. he smirked down at you, eyes filled with satisfaction. "now that," he said, his voice hoarse, "is how it's done." you could only nod, not trusting your voice from how dry your throat felt. he helped you off the counter, holding you up around your waist with one arm while his free hand moved to slide your panties back in place and fix your skirt.
toji pulled his own pants back on, confused when he turned around to see you wobbling- trying to walk towards where megumi had laid your remaining stuff in the kitchen.
“take it easy doll, c’mere. you need to lay down for a second.” the older man chuckled to himself, moving to once again support you with an arm around your waist. you looked up at him confused when he steered you away from the couch and back towards his room.
“toji.. ‘m fine. really-“ you were cut off with a sharp ‘tsk’ sound. the grip on your waist tightening.
“don’t wanna hear it, just lay with me for a bit.” he helped you lay down in his bed, leaving you alone long enough to grab a bottle of water. when he returned, he shut the door behind him. toji made his way back towards you, forcing you to take a few sips from the bottle before putting it down on the nightstand.
with strong arms trapping you against a very broad chest, the smell of him surrounding you- you couldn’t help but eventually doze off into a quiet slumber. toji watched your sleeping figure, his heart pulling at just how peaceful you looked. he could see the bags under your eyes, noting you hadn’t been sleeping well these past few weeks. but now, you were resting. he told himself he’d continue to watch over, and take care of you, if you’d let him.
ask/requests: OPEN
#❥ ~ ᴛᴏᴊɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ#toji x y/n#toji x you#toji smut#toji fushigro x reader#toji x reader#toji fushiguro smut#jjk smut
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someone pls help my mom i dont want her to keep dieting the rest of her life
#shes upset shes gaining weight when shes past 60#meaning over 120 pounds#i want her to just relax and stop holding herself to a 25 yo standard#i need to kill the diet industry#dear diary
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a beginner's guide to stealing a heart modern jacaerys targaryen x fem!reader.
synopsis: opening the most popular flower shop in town came with its perks — everyday business and a cute regular customer who comes in every week with a new excuse for the sake of new flowers or so he says. tags — fluff, loser jace, aged-up characters. jace is 25, reader is 23. slight cursing, florist au. benji/davos and aeron are little matchmakers. confessions through flower meanings, slow burn. love at first sight, soulmate au.
a/n: thank you to @jacesvelaryons for the inspiration and for those that dragged me out of my jace drought era. this one is for my flower girls.
jace nation taglist (open!) : @jacaerysgf @hxtd @benjinotes @imissyoudarling @rinisfruity14 @ambrosia-v-black @littleblackcatinwonderland @smurfelle @nanaldy @bryscorner @star611 @astrxq @reyndaisy @intheheartoftheking @gracexthoughts @nixtape-foryou @starrgurl46 @ethereal-athalia @stelleduarte @chuuritoz @melsunshine @frombloodandfire @still-jon-snow @velaryonbastard @vee-mage @vividxpages
The sign was now flipped, shining against the rays of sunlight, you took a deep breath as you stepped back — the welcome-in sign now staring right back at you. You smiled, your fingers interlocking in front of you as you bounced on your feet, the joy running through your veins.
“Alright, you can stop bouncing now, let me take your picture!”
The sound of your best friend of many years made you turn, your cheeks still blazing with the amount of laughter and smiling you were emitting all morning.
“I won’t take it if you’re not with me Benji,” your tone sounded demanding, but Benjicot knew better than to know you were serious. He rolled his eyes, the camera in his hands was now in someone’s ownership. He snapped his head towards the thief finding himself face to face with his boyfriend, Aeron Bracken.
“Alright now! Get closer!”
Benjicot playfully nipped his boyfriend’s finger causing Aeron to burst out laughing, you smiled from the sidelines, your heart pounding as if it was ready to jump out of your chest. This moment, you wish you could frame it forever.
Benji threw you over his shoulder causing you to laugh as you started to throw weak insults at your best friend who laughed with you, Aeron did not hold back and used the opportunity to snap multiple pictures.
In the middle of September, when the sun was setting and the chill of the wind began to pick up, to you it felt the warmest. You had your best friends help you open a business you sacrificed so much labor in — Everlast, was now yours and open for business.
The flowers scattered around your desk as your rummaged through the mess of your laces and twirls. You began to curse under your breath when you couldn’t find the note your client had left you, indicating instructions of what flowers they wanted and by when.
“Ha! I found you,” you muttered as you looked through the invoice, mumbling again you began to work. The flower shop had a soft, welcoming aura that made anyone that walked through the door smile. You worked quietly and quick, humming to the song that currently played through the store.
Dringgggg!
You heard the door of your shop open, “I’ll be right with you in a minute!” you exclaimed as you snipped off the bottom of a rose with scissors. You did not hear a reply, you took it as the client was looking into the flowers.
You stood, taking off your thick gloves off, facing the stranger that walked through the door with a smile on your face you paused before welcoming them.
In front of you stood a man, he had short brown curls that reached his chin, and his eyes sparkled like rare gems, if you looked closely, you would see the way his eyes had a mixture of different shades of brown. He was tall, average, but taller than you are slightly. His lips were plumped and shiny as if he applied lip balm. He was very handsome which caused you to clear your throat as you shook off the mid-pause you had made.
He stood in front of the front desk moving side to side as his fingers tapped silently onto the glass of your desk. He seemed nervous.
You bit your lip slightly, your smile never falling off your face, “Hi, welcome! How can I help you?”
His eyes widened, and quickly darted around the room as if looking for something, he opened his mouth to speak but then closed it. You noticed his cheeks got red as it spread across his nose. You tried hard not to laugh, so you spoke, saving him from any more trouble.
“Are you looking for a particular flower? I have many that can suit your tastes,” you spoke softly, leaning forward just a little to show the now red-faced male some of the popular bouquets you had.
He suddenly raised a shaky hand and pushed his hair back, licking his lips he spoke, his voice bringing you to a state of comfort, you found it odd that this stranger had such impact on you. His voice touched you deep, wrapping you in warm hug.
“I u-um,” he cleared his throat, coughing, “I’m looking for flowers f-for my um…” he paused as he yet had not looked towards you, his eyes still looking around, searching.
“M-my mom. Yeah! My mom. I’m looking for flowers for her, an arrangement of a sort,” he spoke fast, stumbling over a few words. You quirked up an eyebrow, finding him adorable.
You opted to saying a thought you should’ve kept in your head, but your mouth ran quicker than your brain, “Your mom?”
The tip of his ears to the bridge of his nose became so red his eyes became more brighter, as if the blush on his skin enhanced the color of his eyes. You pressed your lips tighter holding in a giggle that was threatening to erupt — the stranger was too cute.
You smiled, your lips stretching wide as your chest rumbled with a soft chuckle, “Alright, Mr. Buying - Flowers - For - His - Mother on a Wednesday morning, let me show you our arrangements”
He followed behind you in stumbling steps, his fingers fidgeting, the curls that sat on top of his head spread forward covering the caramel eyes you were starting to enjoy.
“Okay, so we have these, they do range from a reasonable price, but it does change due to the flowers you’ll want to add or the decoration of course,” you were smiling, explaining the flowers you created for display, Jacaerys only looked down on you, his heart thumping in a rhythm that made him feel invincible.
You picked up a bouquet, smelling the fresh aroma of its petals, the smell of fresh lilies, and sunflowers wrapping you like a summer evening. Jacaerys only thought you looked beautiful, as you stood with a flower bouquet in your hands, your hair spread behind your shoulders, the jumper you had on, you were a dream.
“Is it for a special occasion? Birthday?” your voice knocked him out of his thoughts as he scrambled to think of another excuse, he used the most generic one he could think of.
His eyes avoided yours as he looked behind you at the rows of flowers, he opened his mouth to speak, his voice sounding like a haunted door, he cringed — clearing his throat he spoke again, “U-um, just because. F-Flowers should show how one feels n-no?”
You bit your bottom lip again - a habit you were trying to get over -, your eyes narrowing, the stranger in front of you was strangely attractive, odd but you couldn’t help feeling a flutter inside your stomach.
“They do actually. A color and a flower explain what we feel, every flower speaks its definition, it’s delicate, fragile and if given with true emotion, the flower lasts longer than its expectancy.”
You spoke with longing, Jacaerys tilted his head trying to read you. He did not know why he came into the shop in the first place, he just wanted to connect with you someway. You always opened the shop with steps that made you look as if you flew against the wind, a smile so bright it bought warmth in his heart.
Every morning as he went for a cup of tea and coffee for his best friend, he saw you across the street, flipping the welcome sign towards the street with a bright smile, it was then one day he decided to answer the curiosity of an unknown connection he felt towards you, to tighten his hold on the magnetic pull that pulled him to stand where he is now.
You sighed, shaking your head at the thought of your mother’s voice as she reminded you how every flower held a story yet to be told by the owner that bought them. You faced the stranger again, smiling softly.
“Any ideas what you’d like to purchase today?”
The stranger gulped as he yet again avoided your eyes, searching around he sighed, “I’m afraid I don’t know what I’m looking for.”
Finally, you released a laugh bringing Jacaerys’ poor heart to skyrocket, “That’s fine, most men don’t know what they’re purchasing when they enter a flower shop — you’re in luck however.”
Jacaerys knew if he looked at you, he would never look away anymore, so he leaped forward, taking a chance. He faced you, his eyes capturing the beauty of your eyes, as if the force that connected you both wrapped him, he gasped softly. You were more than beautiful, your eyes spoke of stories he wanted to know, a mystery he would spend hours trying to understand.
You were also mesmerized, the caramel eyes that now locked with yours had you gripping your flowers. The breeze of the AC you had on the store suddenly felt warm. The stranger captured you in ways you weren’t sure if it was meant to happen.
“Why?” he asked, the flush on his skin still kissed his entire face.
You breathed in, before smiling again, “You have me.”
His cheeks were now blazing with a red color you grew to fall in love with, he looked away with a small smile on his lips.
“Truly, I am in luck then.”
You nodded, tapping your fingers into the glass table for a couple of seconds to think of your next move. Finally, you moved around your desk standing in front of him.
“Okay, so I made these fresh bouquets just this morning, because they are for your mother, I can give them to you cheaper than usual, a gift from me to you, as well for first time purchase!”
Jacaerys with blazing cheeks, quirked his lip in a small smirk, he found you beyond adorable, special with a heart full of dedication for the passion over flowers and aiming for success.
“You’re amazing,” he mumbled, dazed. You stopped mid-sentence, your eyes wide as the same color he had on his cheeks spread on your own.
“What?”
Jacaerys paused, then as quickly as the flush on cheeks came, the paleness overtook it, he took a step back. He was cursing himself for speaking his thoughts out loud. He ruined the chance to talk to you more, dammit.
“What?” he repeated after you to disguise what he had said. You were blushing; your stomach filled with endless flutters. You watched as he struggled to make a cover for his embarrassment his curls did no effort to help him hide, however. The blush on his face was now a cherry red, if it was not for your own blush and struggle to hide your shyness, you would have started laughing or joked about it.
"I-I'm sorry, I was talking about the flowers, how they are beautiful and amazing, yeah," he spoke fast again, he had now relied on grabbing a random bouquet beside you, examining it, smelling it, hiding the fact he wanted the ground to bury him alive.
You ignored the way your heart was beating miles per second, the way your smile never wavered from being stretched softly across your face. This stranger had you feeling so... warm.
You leaned against the wood of your flower stand, nodding, your mouth opening to a silent 'ah.'
"Well, um... what's the occasion? That way I can help you organize the perfect flowers," you muttered, your cheeks feeling hot, so your hand waved some cool air that made no change.
Jacaerys lifted the bouquet, "This is perfect I think," his voice wavered, unsure, curiosity peeking through the thought. He stopped when he heard you laugh, a sweet sound that almost made him start giggling as well.
You wheezed, "I think not."
He paused, his head tilted to the side, "Why not?"
Between the giggles, you acknowledged the bouquet he had in his hands, "Unless you want to let your mother know you are so sorry and are in a deep grief, then I strongly suggest you put it down and let me help you find something different."
His eyes widened, and he rushed to put the bouquet that held red-spider, and red poppies down delicately back onto the shelf, if Luke had seen this, he would have never let it down, "I did not know... it meant that."
You chuckled, "It's not your fault, many don't know but you have me to walk you through the process," you cleared your throat to stop the giggles, "Okay, so what's the reason, is it her birthday? What do you want to convey?"
You saw him struggling again, his eyebrows creasing, his lips forming a small pout, in his thoughts, you allowed yourself to observe him; he was tall, beautiful, and his entire face was still blazing, held constellations of freckles that had you admiring how befitting it was.
"How much I love her," he spoke shyly, "I haven't seen her for a month due to work, so I want to tell her I love her."
Your heart tugged at his explanation, yearning for the love he felt for his mother, longing for your own mother that you knew was not there for you to wrap your arms around. Your eyes stung, blinking the aching away, you spoke as you moved towards your desk again, "I know the perfect flowers."
Your eyes that once held a brightness to it, faded to a sad glint. Jacaerys wondered what story conveyed behind your sad eyes, in the moment he decided the glimmer that your eyes had looked so much better than the dullness making a home in your gaze.
You prepared a bouquet of 14 tulips and peonies, wrapping them in a scented butcher paper with your store's logo. You sprayed a special fragrance to enrich the color and scent, finally tying a white ribbon around the bouquet.
Your smile returned, feeling wholesome again, looking at your work you admired the beauty before catching the stranger's eyes again who was observing you entranced in your element. Jacaerys never felt this feeling before, you were calming, patient, dedicated to your craft, loving and you never faltered a smile - you were perfect.
"There you go, all ready to be hugged by your mother," you sighed in completion.
Jacaerys never took his eyes off yours now, it was evident he wanted to know more about you, to discover your quirks, to know what made you sad and what didn't. His nose was suddenly enamored with a sweet scent - the flowers you prepared.
"Why these?" he softly questioned, it was as if the flowers spoke to him, he admired every detail your soft hands put into it.
You smiled, looking away you talked as if you were looking into a memory, "Tulips represent perfection, royalty, a mother's job is to look after us, struggling quietly to see our dreams come true, I think the tulips represent your mother's patience, as she knows you work hard, and she is rooting for every step you take."
Jacaerys heart felt as it stopped, as if a force pushed against his chest making him short of breath, your words hitting him deep within the walls he tends to keep up. The love he held for his mother was underestimated, they always disagreed over his future, his mother always wanting the best for him and Jacaerys, holding an ego of wanting to show he could do anything comes into play. You unintentionally read through the dynamic his mother and he had. He had never admired and fell for someone this quick before.
He stood, saying nothing as you spoke again, "Peonies mean beauty and elegance, it never hurts to remind your mother how beautiful she is, and how she holds herself with such class guiding you and if you have siblings forward."
He breathed in, his thoughts consuming how admirable you were, "Wow... well um," he began to stutter again, "Th-thank you."
You proudly smiled, "No, thank you for letting me help you."
Jacaerys matched your smile, both of your hearts beating fast, cheeks covered in a similar hue of red. Time did not exist in the moment, as you stared at him with wonder and him with endless admiration and love. Jacaerys knew it was too early for love, but he welcomed the feelings that came knocking on his door like summer taking over the coldness of winter. He welcomed the warmth, the flutters that occurred in his body, the urge to suddenly go outside and scream from happiness.
The bell of your door rang, you did not bother to check who it was as you continued to look at the male in front of you, a question on your tongue urging to spill out.
"Y/n! Let's go to lunch, Aeron cooked a fancy dish he wants you to try!" Benjicot dragged his feet towards you, his arms stretched out to gather you in his arms to lazily lean against your back.
You snapped out of your daze, as Jacaerys jumped from the loud voice of your best friend, clearing his throat he took out his card to pay for the flowers. Benjicot whistled lowly, "Damn, you must be filthy rich huh?"
Your eyes widened, and in a reflex you through your elbow back to hit your best friend in the stomach, a smirk crawling into your face as you heard your Benji released a loud yelp.
"I am so sorry for my best friend, he clearly was not taught manners," you hissed the last word towards your groaning best friend who whined about how harsh you were with him, "I'm sorry again..."
Jacaerys felt relieved knowing that you both were just friends, however, the question still remained, was your heart taken? He shook his head as he waved you off, "It's okay, no harm done."
You ran his card on the tab, and you felt Benjicot leaning against your back again, ignoring his whining you faced the smiling man, "Do you want your receipt?"
Benjicot observed the situation rather quickly, making it a conversation he would have with his boyfriend about how adorable you were with your first crush in a while. You probably did not even know you were growing an affection towards the rich man as Benji called him now. He smirked, a plan forming in his head, he just needed to consult his lover.
Jacaerys shook his head, the curls moved slightly across his eyes, and your fingers twitched to run through them, "It's okay. Thank you again for all the help."
You smiled softly, "It's no problem, please come again, and let me know if she likes them," you nodded your head towards the bouquet, "Give them to her with a lot of love, okay?"
He did not want to leave, wanting to stay to talk to you, to listen to your soft voice and hear you talk about flowers if that was all you wanted to talk about. But he saw the way your best friend was eyeing him, inspecting him with his narrowed eyes, almost like a lion eyeing his prey. Jacaerys suddenly felt naked. He definitely did not want to cross your best friend if he wanted to get to you.
"Definitely, thank you again."
Smiling brightly, you waved as he took small, longing steps towards the breeze of the peak of winter.
"Have a good day!" You shouted as he waved at you outside the shop.
Benjicot mocked you, "Have a good day!"
He enjoyed the small stutter you began your nagging with, as well as the deep flush your cheeks had. So, you did develop a crush. He chuckled evilly; this was certainly gossip he was going to have a blast telling Aeron before bed tonight.
You slapped his shoulder, "That was rude Ben!
He whined again, "Ow! I didn't mean for it to be a loud thought!"
Your eyes glared at him but held no ill intention, “You could have scared him away!”
Benji stopped his whining before he slowly looked at you, his eyes now holding suspicion, with a glint of mischief, “Oh yeah? You sure that was it? Suddenly so protective of him…”
You paused, caught red-handed, swallowing to get rid of your suddenly dry mouth, “Okay…” your hands started to wave around another habit of yours when you got nervous, “He was kind of cute…”
Benji laughed loudly, boasting so loud that had you shying away as you smacked his shoulder again, now it was your turn to whine, “Stop!”
“Oh, wait until I tell Aeron!” Tears pooled in his eyes as he continued to laugh loudly, “You have a crush on a client!”
You shushed him as you moved to lock the door of your flower shop, making a note to customers you were off to break and will be back.
“Shut up! I just thought he was cute!”
“Yeah, so cute that you gave him a big discount, right…”
You rubbed your eyebrow, your face covered in what felt like hot fire, you wanted the floor to swallow you. You pushed him out the door as both of you welcomed the chilly evening. Your whining echoing through the air as your best friend’s loud laughter bought warmth to the cold giving it a perfect combination.
༻❁༺
You never saw him again, your heart yearned to see the handsome stranger again. It felt as if it was forever since you saw him, you were tempted to search social media to find him. However, you were exaggerating, it was only a week since you saw him, a week and a half. You truly were in deep for a stranger who probably forgot all about you.
You mopped the floor of your ship with hips swaying softly to the beat of your favorite band playing. Too entranced with the errand you were doing, the stranger you longed to see again walked in again, he leaned lightly on one of the flower shelves, his face holding a soft grin.
Jacaerys couldn’t wait anymore, he had to see you again, to talk to you more. He cleared his throat, watching as you jumped, your eyes wide capturing the whole of his heart. Oh, you were so beautiful.
“Seven hells…” you muttered, holding tightly to the mop, “I am sorry! I didn’t see you.”
You rushed to look presentable, suddenly regretting you didn’t wear something better than your overalls. He continued to smile softly, ignoring the blush that spread across his face again. He walked towards the glass table again, this time with a better excuse to why he was there.
“It’s okay, I came in quite unexpectedly and quiet, I’m sorry for scaring you,” he stumbled with his words, mentally slapping his head for sounding so nervous around you.
“Ah…” your smile trembled; you were nervous to see him again. Suddenly you remembered, “Oh! Did your mother enjoy the flowers?”
He looked at you with a gaze that made you want to hide, and it was not out of fear, but rather you couldn't explain why his gaze made you feel so... full. As if he laughed at an inner thought, he released a small chuckle, looking away to look at your store, surprised you added twinkle lights making the shop look more welcoming.
"Yeah," he cleared his throat, "She loved it a lot, thank you."
Your body felt liberating, feeling a surge of pride. You clapped your hands together as you jumped lightly on your toes, "I am so glad she loved it."
He locked eyes with you again, this time, the stranger that you now needed to know his name, held glasses over his eyes. You figured you loved to see him this way, his glasses were made for him, and his curls were tussled as if he was constantly running his hand over and over through them.
He wore beige loose jeans with sneakers, his muscular upper body covered by a white t-shirt wrapped with an embroidery vest. He looked beautiful.
Your words suddenly blurred as you couldn't figure out what you wanted to say next, so stupidly you asked, "Um... why are you here?" You slapped your cheek lightly realizing that came out rude, "Oh my, I am so sorry... I did not mean it that way!"
Jacaerys laughed, this time he was more confident, he was going to make it a mission to know you more even if it meant drowning his and Cregan's shared apartment with flowers.
"It's okay, um so I truly loved the flowers and was wondering if you had flowers for..." he paused as he thought for an excuse, "... my younger brother... he won his baseball tournament."
You tilted your head with a million questions that occurred at that moment, the stranger was odd - but you never neglected service especially when the stranger smiled timidly towards you.
"Of course, roses will be your best friend! I hope your um... brother, enjoys the bright red color."
Jacaerys felt like a child again, crushing on his first-ever person, at this rate, he was going to make you think he was weird for buying flowers every week. But, if this meant he was going to see you more often, talk to you, hear you talk about flowers, and watch your face light up with so much devotion, he was open for the challenge.
Biting the inner side of his cheek, he nodded, "I know he will."
Yeah, Lucerys will definitely tease him and probably eye the bouquet of flowers with disgust, questions in his eyes as to why his older brother gave him flowers. Not to mention, Lucerys did not play baseball, and he definitely did not win any tournaments. He played guitar and was in a band.
You moved to the fridge where you kept fresh flowers ready to be prepped. As you took out twelve roses to wrap them in your regular butcher paper, Jacaerys leaned too close to watch you, not watching the weight he was pressing onto your desk.
One moment, he was watching you with a small smile, his heart overwhelmed with the beauty you beheld as you worked quietly. And one moment after the other occurred, the weight of his elbow shattered the desk.
You screamed and snapped out of your bubble. You scrambled to grab your flowers before you looked at the male who began cursing loudly, jumping side to side as he held his bleeding arm.
"Oh my god, oh my god," you panicked watching the blood that seeped out of his arm. You breathed in and held your breath to avoid the nausea that was crawling up your system, you and blood were never a good combination.
You moved to grab a clean rag and rushed towards the male who now held teary eyes. Pressing a warm towel to his wound you grabbed his hand to press it against your hand, "Hold still! Press the rag towards your wound!"
He whimpered, embarrassed out of his mind, he could not believe he made a fool out of himself in front of you to make matters worse.
You grabbed your keys and rushed to push him out the door. You winced as you saw the puddle of blood on the floor of your shop. You would make Benji clean it for you, your mind was occupied with the injured male.
Jacaerys protested he was okay, but with the adrenaline that was running through his body, he did not see the big chunk of glass in his arm. However, you did, and you felt wobbly.
"Oh god..." You wanted to puke now.
You drove fast to the clinic nearby, rushing to get the still protesting male out of the car to the lobby, his face was pale but if you looked enough, he was completely embarrassed. You breathed hard through your mouth, avoiding breathing through your nose.
If this did not make you run for the hills and ban him from ever stepping into your shop, he would not know what to do. Cregan and Lucerys would have a field trip teasing him for being this idiotic.
As he sat in the clinic bed, his arm now wrapped in gauze, the color of his cheeks now returning back to normal, he groaned slamming his hand against his face. He had ruined his chance with you.
You knocked on the door softly, walking in with soft steps towards him. Jacaerys had his eyes wide open, his mouth opening to a small 'o'.
"How do you feel?"
Jacaerys wanted to bury himself deep inside the earth's crust and never appear, "U-U-Um, idiotic? Embarrassed. I promise to pay for the damage I caused. I am so sorry! I promise to pay you!"
You snorted when you heard his fast scattered speech again, he was too cute. You placed a hand on his shoulder stopping his apologies, "How about you heal first and then we'll talk about how to hold your strength back Mr. Hulk."
Please kill me, Jacaerys thought as he watched you chuckle, shaking your head as you tapped his shoulder softly.
༻❁༺
Benjicot and Aeron laughed loudly together. Benji had his arm wrapped around his boyfriend's neck, Aeron giggled into his chest as you drank your glass of wine, cheeks red again.
"So, wait, after that, he ran away?" Aeron questioned as he giggled.
You groaned into your hands, before nodding, "Yes! I went to fetch him some snacks because you know blood loss or something, and I was told he paid for everything and left!"
Benji scoffed, "Well at least he paid but," he snorted, a laugh building in his throat, "Shattering a glass table? You truly had him mesmerized darling."
You threw a piece of your garlic bread at him, he laughed as he moved to the side to miss your hit, "Oh shut up! He was just embarrassed, besides glass tables are fragile! It was bound to break anytime soon."
"Right, right. Calm down, protective girlfriend, I was only teasing," Benji stuck his tongue out, blowing a raspberry. You imitated him, flipping him a finger instead as he winked, "You wish darling but unfortunately, I don't like sharing."
You moaned in disgust, "Ugh Benji! Keep the bedroom stuff private!"
He snickered, "What? I'm only saying!"
Aeron who watched in the embrace of his boyfriend smiled softly at the childish antics of you both. There was nothing better than being in the presence of both of your energies, this was home to him.
"What are you going to do when you see him again?" Aeron asked quietly watching carefully how you blushed and shrugged your shoulders.
"Attend to him like a regular customer? I don't know."
Benji made eye contact with Aeron, and a silent agreement came across their silent conversation.
༻❁༺
"Thank you so much for coming Fleur, I hope your wedding is the best dream. I will place an order on those arrangements you asked for and I will deliver them to the reception first thing in the morning!"
Your regular customer smiled as she hugged you, thanking you for everything you have done for her. You will never ask for anything better than to watch the happiness on your client's faces with every rose you gave them.
As you waved her goodbye, a tall male entered behind her, he was blonde, with a short stubble. You were confused as to who this was, you had never seen him around before. The male looked at you up and down, a small smirk forming.
Eyebrows scrunched together, a frown forming on your face, you calmy and politely asked, "Hi, how can I help you?"
"So, you are the girl that has my good old friend freaking out that he made such an idiot of himself?"
Your face features switched from a slight anger to confusion to realization, "Oh? Oh!"
Cregan smirked, "I came on behalf of him to bring you a brand-new table, before you protest, Jace had said to physically fight you if you denied his apology. So please, allow me to bring it in, I truly do not want to lock you in the bathroom or something."
You started to argue as he moved towards the door to grab the desk, "Hey! No!"
Cregan clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "Ay. Let me bring it in, please. Allow my fool of my best friend to get a piece of calamity, he has been embarrassed for two weeks now, and trust me, he gets annoying with that ramble of his."
You bit your lip, "Okay... fine. I will allow you to replace my table, but please tell him there is no need. And I send all my friendly encouragement for him to get better."
Cregan thought you and Jacaerys would definitely make the cutest couple, he can spot all the similarities already. His foolish friend just needed to grow a good set of balls to ask you out. He simply waved you off, "Will do."
Cregan moved fast and quietly, he never said a word to you after that. He did however observe you, he was curious to why his best friend was so deep into you, and then he realized, the way you handled yourself, spoke, and thought… made you stand out to the many girls that threw themselves to Jacaerys.
With a final push and a wipe across the clean glass, Cregan stretched his arms upwards to release the balls of stress that formed in his shoulders.
“Alright, there you go. If you see Jace, please tell his clumsy little self to stay away from glass and anything breakable.”
You laughed, so that was his name. Jace.
“Will do, please let him know it’s okay. It was an accident, and I will be happy to see him again if he plans to pick up the flowers for his brother’s tournament present.”
Cregan’s face turned confused, tournament? Luke did not play sports. He paused to question what you were talking about until he realized the stunt his friend did. His face turned from confused too humorous. He laughed as he nodded, walking out the door not saying a thing to you leaving you more confused than ever. Cregan and this Jace were truly odd people.
Jacaerys was truly a lovesick idiot.
༻❁༺
It was now December; you were thankful of your business blooming upon everyone. You had business every day, especially with formal events coming up, and everyone wanting to decorate their homes with pretty flowers for the festivities. You couldn’t ask for anything better.
Jace, who you finally found out his real name, Jacaerys, was a regular. After overcoming his embarrassment and shyness of coming face to face with you after breaking your desk — came by every week for fresh flowers. You wondered if he truly had a big family, as every bouquet was for an aunt, uncle, brother, half brother, sister who was also a cousin… you were confused by his odd family tree but never questioned it.
On a Thursday afternoon, before it was time to close, he came by again, excitedly you welcomed him. Your heart never failing to beat fast as you saw him walk in.
“Hi Jacaerys, how are you?” you watched as he sighed, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose slightly. Your finger twitched to fix them.
“Alright, a lot better now that I am here though,” he muttered shyly, you grinned hiding your blush behind your hair.
“Right, so what can I do for you?” You pulled your regular butcher paper, and some scissors ready to prepare flowers for him.
Jacaerys was now running out of excuses, Cregan was beginning to get annoyed with the excessive amount of flowers that now consumed their home.
Rhaenyra was constantly confused to why her son always walked in with a dazed smile on his face and a new fresh of bouquet. She was beginning to question if he was stealing these bouquets but she knew better than to assume her son stole anything. Her mind automatically went to the question of whether his son was in love and she hoped that you were a kind girl with a big heart because Jacaerys needed someone to love him massively, and with Jacaerys came a big family that meant the world to him.
“Well, it’s my dad’s birthday tomorrow and you’re the best at making the best flowers. He needs some color in his office,” he said, his smile trembling as a glint of mischief flashed across his eyes.
As you moved to grab the perfect flowers you paused, “Wait…” You turned towards him, your head titled to the side with a very confused expression, “Your dad? You said two weeks ago that it was your dad’s birthday?”
Jacaerys entire face couldn’t get anymore redder than it already was, he began to stutter, “Yeah. It was my step dad’s birthday, now it’s my other dad’s birthday, biological!”
Your expression did not falter, “So you have three dads? Because you also mentioned before that you wanted flowers that spoke of the ocean, your father Laenor loved the sea.”
Please kill me, seven hells please. Jacaerys did not know what to say then, “Yeah well… you see… my mom remarried a lot,” he chuckled nervously.
You raised an eyebrow, “Huh… well the more dads the better no?” You poked jest at him, pursing your lips to hold in a grin.
He nodded fast, “Yeah, amazing!”
Jacaerys loved his family but it was quite chaotic with many family members running around.
“Hm…” You hummed as you moved to prepare the flowers, a regular routine that Jacaerys never got tired of. He enjoyed watching you be in your element.
For a while, in a comfortable silence, you held the bouquet out towards him, “Here we go!”
Jacaerys did not know how much more excuses he can come up with just to come to talk to you. He was going to make every second of it be worth it.
“They are beautiful, thank you for being amazing yet again.”
Your cheeks became warm again, you waved your hands around to push his compliments away, “Ah, no you’re exaggerating. I simply enjoy flowers and making people happy, it’s no problem at all.”
Jacaerys put money on the counter, smiling he shook his head, “You’re amazing, never forget that.”
As you were going to give him a receipt, the lights turned off, the music coming to a stop. Your face held an expression of shock, “What the -“
If you took time to observe the situation you would have seen the way Aeron and Benjicot ran with keys in their hands, having locked the door shut, with the lights off — all the while giggling.
You sighed exhaustively, rubbing your eyebrow you looked at Jacaerys ashamed, “I’m sorry… might be a power outage. I’ll give you a receipt when you come around again.”
He waved it off, his eyes scanning around, “It’s okay. Do you need any help in here?”
You moved to the power grid hoping to fix the problem, shaking your head you responded, “No it’s okay, I’ve got it! Thank you Jacaerys.”
Jacaerys hesitated but he sighed inevitably, he had to yet again leave you. He moved towards the door finding it locked. He tugged the handle with more force finding it completely shut. Jacaerys opened his mouth to question why it was closed till he held you yelp loudly. He rushed towards you.
“What? What? Are you okay?!”
You hissed as you stuck your index finger in your mouth to help relief your finger of the sting. Wincing you looked at Jacaerys whose eyes looked panicked, worried.
“Just got zapped by the electricity I’m guessing.”
Jacaerys pulled you away from the power box, “I think you shouldn’t touch it anymore, and just wait till a professional comes to check it.”
You sighed, slightly pouting, “I can’t stay without power…”
He looked down your lips, tempted to place a kiss on them. He breathed deep through his nose to avoid thinking of you that way. He had to take it slow.
“Jacaerys?”
Jacaerys hummed, his hand covering your injured fingers, playing with your soft hands unintentionally. You did not find it weird but rather inviting, you enjoyed heavily his touch on yours and you wanted the feeling to be permanently, but you did not want to scare him away. You shyly muttered under your breath.
“Why are you still here?”
He looked at you calmly, he scratched his eyebrow, pushing his glasses upwards, “The door is locked.”
“It can’t be I don’t have the keys… Benjicot took them.”
Jacaerys shrugged, "Well... the door is locked and there's no way out I'm guessing?"
You groaned loudly; this day could have never been worse than it was already. You were very scared to be this close to Jacaerys, you did not want to explore the feelings you felt for him. The feeling was euphoric and wholesome, and it made you listen to love songs and automatically think of his caramel auburn eyes that reminded you of fall. What made this whole situation more terrifying was the possibility of your feelings not being reciprocated.
Boyfriends, love in general never ended well with you. It was rather disastrous, being reminded of your ex who Benjicot broke his nose so bad he had to get surgery to fix the broken bones. You winced rethinking your experience with your ex-lover.
However, that made you appreciate the friendship you had with Benji, he protected you where you couldn't, he was your shoulder, your shield, and most definitely your soulmate in the form of a best friend. Having his friendship never had you lonely, and with him came Aeron, who you would never trade for anything in the world.
Aeron was your calm, your best friend who took you on car rides and cried with you to songs on the radio or songs that you connected with the aux. Aeron was the one who took you in his arms and held you until your system was relieved of all the pain and stress it had going on. While Benji was the vengeful one, Aeron was the one that said, "karma always comes back to kick ass."
You took Jacaerys into your small office, which was decorated with small plants, your office was warm, the small rays of light from what winter greedily would give as compensation for the cold.
"I'm sorry it's messy, I usually don't have time to clean in here," you moved some of the files out of the couch you had inside your office.
Jacaerys took the time to observe the space, it matched you. It was soft, loving, and warm, as were you. He felt a pride surge him, he got to know another piece of you without trying. You loved working and you were independent. You liked to have your own space and to be alone at times.
"It's alright, I don't mind," he said as he went around to look at the photos you had around the room.
He stopped to look at the photos of you and your parents, to the photo when you first opened your shop. He looked at your smile, the way it lit your entire face making it more ethereal, the way your eyes crinkled full of youth and innocence. The relationship you had with your best friend was special and if he was to compare, he would automatically think of his relationship with Cregan.
Another trait of yours, he captured. You were devoted. You loved hard and with your entire being.
He huffed a small laugh as a loving grin splattered on his face, his heart couldn't have picked a better person to be protected with.
He heard you talk in hushed whispers through the phone, whoever it was, he figured had you stressed as you tugged your hair back in a chunk hold. He felt the urge to run his hands through your hair, to soothe your worries. He made himself comfortable on the couch as he watched you pace back and forth.
"Ben, you come in here right now!" You whispered harshly hearing the small giggle he released, Aeron in the back was giggling heavily.
"Confess, ask him on a date, and stop the constant back-and-forth flirting you guys have every time he comes in," Benji said as Aeron yelled over him.
"There's no way a guy would buy his family flowers EVERY week, either the guy is planting a whole damn garden for Landing's townsfolk or he's actually insane."
You peeked at the said man, your heart giving a short stop when you realized he was already staring at you, his face gave no emotion but his eyes, he was observing you, taking every detail of you in.
You cleared your throat, "C-can you give me a minute?"
Jacaerys noticed your stance became hesitant compared to the confidence you always had. He stood slowly, "Yeah, of course."
As soon as he closed the door behind him, you watched as he leaned by the window of your office, his eyes scanning around again. You shook your head stopping yourself from gawking at him as you turned towards the call again.
"You have 10 minutes to get over here and give me my power back as well opening the door!"
Benji snorted, "And you have 10 minutes to get your shit together and ask him out, he seems like a nice guy, weird but he matches you."
You began to protest as you heard Aeron in the background again, the voice bringing you calamity as usual, "He likes you. No other guy would spend $40-$60 every week for flowers, it's like Ben said, either he's insane or he's planting a garden for the town to see."
You sighed loudly, your eyes following the male outside your office, the sound of your heart thumping loudly through your eardrums. Jacaerys was odd, but he was dedicated, he was funny, kind, and clumsy but something inside you wanted to know every layer that made him who he is now. You wanted to run your hands into his curls, to have him wrap his muscular arms around you, to kiss those pink plump lips of his.
He spoke very little of his chaotic family, and you wanted to know more. He was loyal and dedicated, he was soft-spoken, and he had a heart so big that only spoke wonders of his family. For once, you wanted to know if the harmony of your heart could match his, if for once the quietness of your home could be filled with his laughter and random chattering.
"I'm scared," you whispered to your best friends who chuckled simultaneously.
"You are ready, your heart is ready, allow it to be loved. Take it slow, at your pace, he seems the guy that would do anything to see you happy. Before you ask, I approve, I will just let him know that if he fucks up, I will beat the shit out of him," Benji warned through the phone.
You could not see, but if you did, you would have seen the way Aeron slapped his boyfriend's head to Benji whining before leaning down slightly to kiss his boyfriend's lips.
"Okay," you chewed on your bottom lip nervously.
Aeron encouraged you, "Anyone would be happy to have you in their life, if I wasn't gay and dating this big loser next to me, I would have fought to have you."
You laughed as you heard Benji exclaim a loud, "Hey!"
Aeron continued, "We will be there soon, we're actually in the cafe next door, so we will be there. But y/n?"
You were distracted as you locked eyes with Jacaerys who never took his gaze from you. Blinking with flush cheeks you answered with a waver in your voice, almost in a soft squeak, "Yeah?"
"Try. Allow yourself to be happy and to share your adventures with another that isn't us okay?"
You did not give him another answer as you hung up the phone, you took a deep breath and walked confidently toward the taller male. Opening the door, you leaned against it as you spoke lightly your eyes never leaving his, "Benji, my best friend will come in a second."
Jacaerys nodded softly, not speaking a word as he continued to see you.
"What do you do with all those flowers you get every week?" you boldly asked him; you licked your bottom lip as you slowly bit into it. Jacaerys went from your eyes to your lips, a carnage urge rising.
Jacaerys had two options, either he lies, or confess his true intentions. Cregan over a round of drinks on a Saturday night teased him as to why he was suddenly reading books about flowers and their significance. He avoided your deep stare for a second before he confidently turned towards you.
"I keep them, as for some, I actually do give them to my family members. By the way, they love the special touches you add to every single bouquet."
"So, every bouquet is for a different family member?"
He hesitated, "Uh..." the tips of his ears turned red, his fingers beginning to twitch, "Yeah?" He answered unsure how to answer the question.
You nodded, not believing him. You recalled Aeron's words about Jacaerys and how no man would ever put effort into buying flowers for every member of their family.
"As we wait, I can prepare you the flower bouquet for your um..." You paused, testing the waters, "I forgot, for who was it again? What was the occasion?"
Jacaerys is oblivious to the test you are giving him, "My sister! She loves flowers, so anything I know she would love them."
Your nose crinkled as you held your laugh, gotcha.
"You're a good man Jacaerys."
He beamed, his cheeks blooming to the regular red color you have fallen for.
Aeron and Benjicot had arrived at the shop, they were each sporting little mischievous smiles. You only shook your head at them, they walked into your office shouting a small hello to Jacaerys who took a step back at the glare Benjicot was giving him as he looked at him through the window of your office.
You wrapped two bouquets this time, Jacaerys was confused.
"Y/n?"
"Yes, Jace?"
"Why are there two flower bouquets?"
You were in the middle of writing a note before placing it inside of the bigger bouquet. Your stomach was turning itself inside out as you took a small breath in before locking eyes with the boy that now lived in your dreams, making you wake up every morning in hopes of seeing him stumble through your door.
"This one is for your sister," You chuckled thinking how you caught him in the middle of his excuses, "... And this one is for you. A gift of a sort, for coming in and purchasing from me."
"Y/n, I can't accept this, let me pay you for it," he was talking so fast you laughed, stopping his hand that struggled to get his wallet to pull out his card.
"You can and you will," you affirmed as you pushed the bouquets into his hands, his eyes looked as if it was ready to fall off his sockets.
"I uh-I uh, uh, uh," he stuttered to the point he almost fell straight into the flower shelf behind him.
Laughing you held him by the elbow, "It's okay. Take it as a token from me please?"
Aeron and Benjicot were having the time of their lives, laughing loudly behind the closed door of your office. This was better than watching a sit-com at home.
"Okay, okay," he muttered, grabbing the flowers, he walked hesitantly towards the door.
You walked him out, and as both of you welcomed the chill cloudy day, both of your noses began to blossom with frost, and your insides never felt warmer.
"Take care, Jace."
His name never sounded heavenly than your mouth, he wanted to surround himself with your warmth. He wanted to gather you in his arms and press a deep kiss that left you breathless. Slowly, time will have him holding you in his arms as he proudly pronounced everywhere how lucky he was.
He turned towards you, shyly, with a small voice asking, "Can... Can I hug you?"
You did not hesitate to slightly move your head up and down, and it was as if the world stopped rotating. If this was how heaven felt like, you would live in peace. He was calm, and you were erratic, it was like the moon hugged the sun and made an explosion to loud and beautiful. Two different souls combine together.
You hugged him tightly, smelling the fresh scent of lavender, and fresh laundry, with a touch of cologne that almost made you bury your face into his chest. As for Jacaerys, he held you closely, burying his face into the crook of your neck, smelling the floral scent with a touch of vanilla. Almost, like a small whisp, a soft sound of relief came out of his lips. He was the happiest man in the world.
You both let go with an intention that you never wanted to let go.
Jacaerys smiled with a new touch, it brought you to smile back at him, both of your hearts connected in a way that neither of you was scared to explore what beautiful harmonies it would create.
Unwillingly, a string that wrapped both of your fingers together, separated. You knew that he would return, and till then, you hoped with an open heart ready to love, you'd be expecting him.
༻❁༺
As he gave Baela her bouquet, his smile never left his face. Baela looked confused as to why Jacaerys would give her flowers.
"Uh, Jace? What's the occasion? Am I dying?"
Rhaena laughed, "Relax sister, Jace has been giving everyone flowers as of late."
Baela raised an eyebrow, a confused look still on her face, "Um? Why?"
Jacaerys held onto his bouquet until he spotted the cream envelope stuck between the flowers. Rhaenyra who watched her children debate why Jacaerys was suddenly a flower boy, smiled internally, her boy was too adorable.
He ran up to his mother, gave her a kiss on her cheek, rushed to say goodbye to everyone, and jumped into his car to drive back home.
Luke sneezed, "I don't know about you all, but this corny version of my brother and him constantly smelling like flowers is making me feel so... grossed out."
Rhaenyra tsked, "Wait until you find a partner that will make you become a fool, then we can talk about being gross darling."
Baela shrugged, "I truly don't care however I will say, whoever got his heart in twists and turns, makes the most beautiful arrangements and I want more. He better not fuck this up."
Rhaenyra hissed as small Viserys yelped out a small 'duck'.
"Baela! Language!"
༻❁༺
Cregan was sitting by the couch, a can of beer in his hand as he calmy watched the sports channel. Jacaerys quickly opened the door, slamming it shut as he ran down the hallway into his room, the bouquet of bright, pretty flowers in his arms left a flowery scent in the room.
Cregan eyed his best friend in confusion, before he sneezed, "Oh for god's sake Jace!"
All he got in return was a loud, "Sorry man!"
Cregan only muttered to himself, finding himself eyeing all of the floral arrangements around the sitting area. He shook his head, snorting.
༻❁༺
Jacaerys sat by his bed, the flowers now sat in a vase by his bed. In his hands sat the cream envelope that he was too afraid to open.
"C'mon Jace, open it."
With trembling fingers he opened the envelope, your nice cursive writing welcomed him, and immediately he began to smile widely. As his eyes scanned the words you wrote, his eyes began to look at the arrangement you had given him. His heart never felt this way, if he could give you the world, he would gladly do it, some way. You were the best flower of all the garden, and by the gods, he loved you.
The note that you made held a phone number, and with a small note that explained your heart best, had Jacaerys throw himself onto the bed, all the while screaming a loud 'YES!"
Flowers are meant to describe what we feel, and every flower has a meaning and a reason why we gift them. And for you, I feel so many things that it is impossible to choose what flower fits you. If you get a chance, find the meaning of the flowers and then come find me.
PS: Next time, remember what excuse you came up with to get flowers, you're a terrible liar. with so much adoration, Y/n.
As Jacaerys rolled around in his bed with a big smile on his face and small laughs escaping his mouth, the flower arrangement you made blossomed, finding a home in a chilled season. Lilies, Lilacs, with bright Camellias sat on his desk with a confession of love from you who waited patiently for him to crack your code.
#jacaerys velaryon#𓇼 nattie's works#house of the dragon#jacaerys targaryen#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys x reader#jacaerys x you#jace targaryen#jacaerys targaryen x reader#hotd imagine#hotd x reader#house of the dragon fanfiction#davos x aeron#modern!jace#modern au
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Love your Hugh Jackman stories.
I have one idea where you suppose go for dinner. But Hugh wants you and you want him so you have sex on the kicken table before showing up late to dinner. 🔥
Can't Wait
18+ No Minors
Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it), kinda heel kink, kitchen table sex, dirty talk, quickie
5:25
You stare at the clock and realize you have to get going if you want to arrive to your friends birthday dinner on time, so you slide your heels on and walk out of your bedroom to the kitchen where Hugh is at. Hugh glances over at you, letting a low whistle out as he spins you around to get a better look.
"You look so stunning, love. Sort of making me debate on letting you out the house tonight." He lowly tells you while pulling you close to him. A chuckle escapes your lips, "I set up the party so I have to at least show up." Hugh's hands grip your hips, moving around to grip your ass as he kisses you deeply.
His erection pokes at your thigh and you pull back slightly, trying to maintain your composure. "I can't mess up my makeup..." "I'll be gentle." Hugh smirks, pushing you until you're laying down on the kitchen table. He pushes his pants down enough to let his cock bounce out, grabbing his base and rubbing the length across your clit before slowly sliding in.
The stretch causes your back to arch, moving your leg so your heels digs in his shoulders. He moans loudly at the feeling and throws his head back slightly once he bottoms out. "There you go, baby, take all of my cock. Such a needy thing." Hugh tells you as he start pounding into you.
You hold onto the sides of the table while Hugh's arms lock around your legs to hold you close to him, feeling him push deeper with each thrust. "Going so.. deep." You moan, moving one of your heels to his neck. "Fuck, baby. You like putting those heels to use, huh?" He asks.
"Have to make sure you enjoy them too." You smirk and he thrusts harder, his eyes closing from the pleasure as your walls contract against his length.
His thumb meets your clit, rubbing in a desperate and quick manner. "Come on, baby, don't want you to be late to your dinner now do we? Let me see my pretty girl cum for me." He coos, his other hand gripping you tighter as your release builds, pushing your heel just a bit more against his neck as you release.
Faint curses fall from Hugh's lips as he releases inside of you and you smile softly as he pulls out and fixes your underwear.
6:15
You call out, looking at him. "I couldn't help myself, love. You're just so beautiful I can't resist you." He chuckles, kissing you softly as your phone starts going off.
"Well, she's going to kill me for being late." You say, kissing Hugh before running out the door.
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Absolutely Ravenous
Kinktober Day 25: Mirror Sex
Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls wrap it irl i am begging), mirror sex obviously, slight degradation, overstimulation, kind of free use, Miguel is feral again what can I say (w/c: 1K)
A/N: SO even though I did not get all of Kinktober done within the month, I am determined to finish all of the prompts! So just stay tuned for days 26-31 in the coming month, and you can think of it like Kinkvember or somethin'. ANYWAY back to it with Miguel because I was inspired by this ask!! (Of course, I am using these prompts from flightlessangelwings for Kinktober!)
He’s relentless, ravenous, fucking insatiable.
Miguel O’Hara is a man who prides himself on his control over every situation. He has to be in control, for the good of the Spider Society, for the good of the multiverse. He knows when to stop, when he’s reached a certain limit. He’s careful to keep himself objective and distant, especially in front of the other Spiders.
But not with you. Never with you.
He’s careful and collected, but the second he has you behind closed doors, all bets are off.
Miguel is a fucking animal when he gets like this, needy for your touch, desperate to fuck you over and over until you both can’t possibly move anymore. On nights like these, he wrings you dry, breaking you to pieces on his fingers, his tongue, his cock.
He’d fucked you on the floor in your living room the moment he’d walked through the door, pounding you into the rug and snarling at the feel of you, his eyes bleeding red.
He’d carried you to your bed immediately after, eating his cum out of you with clawed hands digging into your thighs, holding you steady as you thrashed against the sheets. He’d fucked you again, pumping more cum into your abused pussy and kissing the tears from your eyes.
He carries you to the shower like a gentleman after that, like he hasn’t just fucked you within an inch of your life. He washes the sweat off your body while you cling to him, resting your cheek against his broad chest. And his desperate fingers just can’t seem to help themselves, dragging through the seam of your pussy and sinking two of them deep inside of you.
And you’re just as needy, just as ravenous. So you let him. You take everything he gives you and thank him for it. You grasp onto his shoulders and moan pleases and thank yous into his mouth as he finger-fucks you beneath the spray of hot water.
You let him drag you out of the shower and bend you over the bathroom sink. You let him push his fat cock into your pussy without protest, just as desperate for it as he is.
That’s the thing about nights like these, it’s never fucking enough.
He just looks so big behind you, his body tense and muscles rippling as he drives into you over and over and over again. He’s like a beast over his prey, and the sight of it makes you shake, your body forced to open to him as he takes control.
You both are still dripping wet from the shower, the bathroom steamy and hot, and God, you feel lightheaded. You grip onto the marble of the counter for dear life as his cock stretches you so goddamn wide, reaching so fucking deep. His fingertips dig into your hips, pulling you back into every single thrust, bullying his cock as deep into you as fucking possible.
“Fuck, baby,” he slurs through his fangs, meeting your gaze in the mirror. “Look so fucking gorgeous like this, fucking beautiful, taking my cock so perfect.”
“Miguel, I can’t-” you whimper, tears leaking down your face and dripping into the sink below you. “It’s too much, fuck, I can’t cum again, I can’t.”
“You can, hermosa, you’re my good girl, you can do it,” he says, pulling you back into him harder, practically fucking you onto his cock, using you like a toy, and you cry out, your head dropping to hang down and just fucking taking it.
“Look at me,” he growls. “Look at how good I fuck you.” He curls a fist into your hair and pulls, dragging your head back up to look into your reflection. “Are you going to be a good girl for me, bebita? Getting fucked like a little whore, and good whores cum when they get fucked like this. Don’t I treat this pussy so good, honey? Don’t I deserve to feel you cum?”
You jerk in his hold like you’ve been struck by fucking lightning, painful moans ripping your way out of your throat every time he drives in in in. “Yes, fuck,” you croak, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, “You fuck me so perfect Miguel, it feels- it feels so fucking big inside, can’t- I can’t fucking breathe.”
A hard smack lands on your ass, sending pain ringing through your body alongside relentless pleasure, and you scream, meeting his hard gaze in your reflection. And God, he’s beautiful. There’s a blush high on his cheeks, his fangs peaking past his full lips. He looks like a god, his muscles bulging and shifting beneath his shining, golden skin.
“Watch,” he snarls, primal and fucking mean, and it makes you clench around him involuntarily. “Watch me make you cum.” He reaches beneath you to rub his thick fingers into your aching clit, and you do.
You can only watch, mouth agape around a silent scream, as pleasure wracks your body, shuddering as you clench around Miguel’s cock. It’s painful after he’s made you cum so many times tonight, but God, it’s so fucking good. You feel like you’re dying, trembling in his hold as he rocks you back onto him through your orgasm.
“God, that’s fucking good,” he breathes, pumping into you once, twice more before stilling, sucking in a beath through clenched teeth as he floods you full of cum all over again. He’s gorgeous to watch, the tendons in his neck tightening, his eyes fluttering as he groans through his orgasm.
He pulls you back up against him to rest you against his warm body, not the cold, hard sink. It’s bliss.
“We’re going to have to shower again, Miguel,” you murmur, and you watch Miguel’s face twitch into a smirk in the mirror. Your heart flutters. “Separately, Mig, we have to get clean sometime,” you chastise.
He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. “Maybe sometime, but not tonight, hermosa,” he murmurs, and it sounds like pure sin. “Not before I’m done with you.”
#can i write miguel as anything other than feral and whipped#it remains to be seen#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara smut#miguel ohara x reader#miguel x reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x you#spiderman 2099 smut#across the spiderverse fic#across the spiderverse smut#astv x reader
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What do you think the age-gap between Bruce and reader would be? Also, love your work. It’s actually amazing 💜
"What's the matter old man," a paparazzi called as Bruce straightened slowly, wincing slightly as his ribs protested. "Your child bride blow your back out?"
"Don't look," You tell him, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek. It wasn't being lovey-dovey for the cameras. It let you get close enough to make sure he didn't fall. Last night his line broke on a grapple and he landed on his back. And sure, nothing was broken but at 40, he felt it. The next day sore and stiff was real.
He looked down at you and pulled you a little closer, "Wasn't gonna, you're nicer to look at." He bent to steal a proper kiss and smiled, "Child bride my ass-"
"Honestly I'm 25. I could still be acting and modeling but-"
"You gave it all up for me," he said, offering you his arm. "Like Princess Grace... It just made everyone think I'm holding you hostage."
"I can work when I want to," you point out, "I get scripts sent to me all the time still. I just don't get anything tempting enough to want to leave home for the shoot."
"So you're a willing hostage?" he teased, taking off his jacket to wrap around your shoulders. The sun was setting and the breeze was getting too cold for his liking. And your dress, while perfect for spring; something that would spawn dozens of rip offs by next week- was no match for the chill in the air.
"Lock me up?" you plead, whining, whirling to face him. Offering him your wrists and pounding gently on his chest.
He wrapped his hands around your wrists and grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners, "And throw away the key?"
"Only if you can promise we won't get interrupted this time," you pout.
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Any loser facts abt Peter in your universe? I see all Spider-Man's having atleast one (Or several) moments of "The Parker's luck", like swinging and falling into the dumpster, being the Smart-but-dumb person, or doing smth cringe to the point to embarass and make them stay awake at night
And I think it would be funny as hell if he is this smart, hot, skillful, intelligent with tragic backstory but still a little bit of a loser
Hunting!Spiderman is absolutely a loser.
His biggest public embarrassment was taking on Captain America in his OG world. They were on opposite sides for some comic shenanigan reason or another, and ended up having to fight.
Captain America laid Spiderman out to fucking dry. Full on KO. He was obliterated, so completely and effectively that he legitimately had a crisis about it.
Even worse, Captain picked him up over the shoulder and took him to safety afterward. He woke up asking what time and year it was.
it was captured live on Tiktok, and mem-ed to absolute hell. Tags like #Spideryamcha and #Spideybeatdown were trending for weeks. JJ split the video into single frames and ran it on every website/article/blog of the Bugle.
Halloween was brutal. And endless stream of couple costumes, kids dressed as Captain America with spider-plushies, beach towels with Spidey's image, advertised thrown over the shoulder. God the Spotify playlist... (Beating me up/Mama Said Knock you Out/Getting Beaten Up/Lay Me/I'm a loser/Bad Day...and so on)
Now, to be clear, Spiderman has had his fair share of losses. He's not invulnerable- and to most of the masses, the power difference between Captain America and Spiderman is minimal.
But Spiderman knows better.
For reference, Captain America is an enhanced human. He's fast, strong, dexterous- and can lift up to 1200 pounds.
Spiderman can go toe-to-toe with the Hulk. Spiderman can lift up to 25 tons.
This shouldn't have been even close. And it wasn't. This is when Peter realized that having mutated muscles and superhuman strength didn't mean anything if he didn't know how to use them. Most of his rogues gallery up until that point (Rhino, Vulture, the classics-) were just dudes with souped up bodies/tech.
Captain America, highly trained and disciplined, was able to read him like a flimsy pamphlet, capitalizing on all his weaknesses to take Spidey out like yesterday's garbage.
TLDR: Spiderman got hilarious humbled on Tiktok and his rep took a hit that never totally recovered.
For new world Loser facts:
-Peter Parker is living above St. Margaret's on Weasel's charity. -Has to basically work for free for room and board -Has literally no friends or family (yet) -Can't hold a Starkphone in the right direction to save his life Stay tuned for more!
#hunting!spider#spiderman#captain america#talk shit get hit#he didn't quite trash talk the cap but man 'i don't wanna hurt you' shit aged like MILK#Sound of Silence was his unofficial theme song for everything after that#later edits had it set to AMERICA FUCK YEAH instead#tfw going up against a scientist in a suit isn't the same as taking on an actual professional#local spiderman has absolute breakdown more at 5 and 6 and 7 and 8 and 9- every day for the next month basically#u bet ur ass Spiderman lays awake thinking about this
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(cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw, mdni, sloppy oral, biting/marking, rough sex. bad german pickup lines)
continuing the part before: visiting his humble abode
Hanging off König’s shoulder.
There honestly isn’t a better place to be, except for maybe right under him. My fingers dig into his back, holding onto him, even though I am secure on his shoulder. He carries me up the stairs easily, I don’t even hear him panting a little harder. And the view on his ass is delicious. I want to pinch it. Or smack it.
My intrusive thoughts win, I stretch down and the palm of my hand collides with his behind, even making a little sound, while I giggle.
“Stop it.” Another spank onto my butt, his hand staying there this time. “It was my plan to show you the whole house first, and then take you to my bedroom…”, he grumbles, but amusement comes through in his voice. “But I should’ve known that you and your bratty ass are not gonna adhere to such an arrangement.” He squeezes my asscheek, his fingers lingering a bit longer, and even that sends a shiver down my spine.
“I just wanted to know if the king had a king-sized bed, I swear.”, I joke, stifling back a laugh.
“Aha.”, he drawls skeptically. “And that’s all?”
“Yep.”, I answer, knowing full well that I know and he knows, that that is in fact not all.
It’s just a few steps from the top of the stairs to the bedroom, when I hear the click of a door and then the light switch. He enters the room and I crane my neck, all nosily, trying to look around. The bedframe, sturdy dark wood, and some bedsheets is all I see before he lifts me from his shoulder again.
“Well, your wish is my command, Prinzesserl.”, he says, the last word sounding a lot like ‘princess’. “I do indeed have a king-sized bed.”
He sets me down on the mattress, lying me down more carefully than I would have liked, to be honest. I look up – and I’m staring back at myself, strewn on the soft sheets. My mouth falls open.
“You have a mirror on your ceiling?”, I ask incredulously. It’s an unnecessary question because – well, I can see that he does have a fucking mirror on the ceiling.
“I do.” He smiles, looking up as well. “You can cover it up, if you don’t wanna watch yourself sleep, but I thought it would be fun for other horizontal activities that don’t involve any actual sleep.”
My breath halts in my throat as I think about his insinuation and unholy images flood my mind. Me riding him, only held up by his arms, while he makes me look up, his hand around my throat. His body strewn over mine, the long strands of his hair cascading down his tattooed back, his huge stature moving with his thrusts. Him sitting back on his knees, spreading my legs wide, so I can see how he’s pounding into me in the mirror above.
“What, nothing to say now, Kleine?” His deep soft voice pulls me out of my little daydream, smirking down at me. And I just shake my head. “Didn’t think I would ever see you speechless.”, he continues teasing me.
I sit back up, looking up at him, which has me craning my head back with the way he is towering over me. “I’m not, look, full sentences are coming out my mouth.”
He smirks at me. “I can see that.” He comes a bit closer still, his hand gripping my chin softly, his thumb strokes over my lower lip, pulling it down a little bit. “So, it’s not just good for mouthing off at me, huh?”
Instead of an answer, my tongue darts out, licking the pad of his thumb. My mouth closing around it, softly sucking once, releasing the digit with a pop. “No.” All the messages I sent him this morning about wanting to suck his dick flood the forefront of my mind.
His gaze darkens, while the smirk widens. For a moment, it seems like we’re suspended in time, then we move even faster. He pulls off his shirt and I do the same, also getting rid of my bra. He helps me with my pants, and when they’re finally on the floor, his hand moves to his belt, opening it, but I softly coax them away, taking over, while I scramble to sit on my legs until I am kneeling in front of him.
Opening the button, lowering the zipper. And instead of the boxershorts I expected, like the ones I saw on the photos he sent this morning – I’m greeted by his hard dick.
Damn. He isn’t wearing any underwear.
I look up at him, being met with a cocky grin.
“Allzeit bereit.”, he comments.
“What?” I can’t hide my confusion.
“’Be prepared’, the scout motto, you know.”, he explains, like that is some common knowledge.
“Uh-huh? So, you’re always prepared for a blowjob?”, I ask him, tauntingly, pulling up one eyebrow. My hands still rest at his zipper, my fingers twitching to finally touch him.
“Well, no, but after all the talking about how you would take me in your mouth this morning...”, he answers, the cockiness not faltering.
“Then why are we still talking about the scout motto, big guy?”, I ask him, a little challenge in my voice.
His reaction is a little sway forward, until the tip rests against my mouth. “Are we?”, he asks, the insinuation sending a shiver down my spine.
His piercing drags across my lower lip and my tongue darts out to lick it. The groan dropping from his throat, the low gravelly sound, makes me do it again. Teasing his tip, until his hips are rutting forward on their own and I drop my jaw, slowly trying to fit more of him into my mouth. I close my lips around his thickness, softly sucking on him.
Pulling back again. Gripping the base of his cock with my hand as I press kisses on it, softer than he probably would have liked. He’s squirming a little bit under my touches, his fingers coasting through my hair, moving it out of my face.
I look up at him meeting his eyes, continuing the teasing touches, until he pushes himself inside my hot wet mouth again.
“Look up.”, he says, pointing at the ceiling. And my eyes turn up further, my neck straining back.
The picture mirrored back to me is pornographic, to say the least.
We’re both looking up at the ceiling, my face turned up, my back and ass fully on display, my legs tucked under it, with the way I’m sitting in front of him. His hand at the back of my neck.
König’s broad chest is taking up so much space, even as he’s leaning back to get a good look at me. The happy trail leading down. My hand lying there, feeling the soft tufts of hair underneath my fingertips.
Our bodies connected with my mouth around his dick.
I suck on him, licking the underside of his shaft, while still looking up, and I can see how his eyes roll back, his pupils disappear, only the whites of his eyes shining.
I move my hand down to his base, cupping his balls, softly tugging. The choked moan from his lips only spurs me on. He grabs me by the back of my head, softly moving me to the rhythm of his hips.
“You teased me all day about using your mouth on me, so I’m really enjoying this right now.”, he whispers, pushing his dick deeper, and I drop my jaw and stick out my tongue to fit more of him.
He hits the back of my throat which has me gag around him while he’s still not nearly fitting into my mouth, not even close. The next push of his dick is even deeper, and my eyes turn up, and I feel like I’m going cross-eyed. I move up and down, as far as I can, blowing him like this. It gets sloppy, messy, spit dripping from my lips. Dropping down onto my tits and tummy.
Tears form in the corners of my eyes, a drop running over my cheek. His hand moves from the back of my head to my face, his thumb stroking over it. “So fucking pretty.”, he coos. He pulls back and I take a deep breath, the sound filling the room instead of my gagging.
But I don’t stop. I use my saliva that’s now coating part of his length to jerk him off, moving my hand down, while I let my tongue play with the piercing on his tip again. Tasting hints of salty precum, as I look up at him. Holding eyecontact while I drag my tongue over it, slowly.
“Oh fuck.”, he almost growls, and the sound sends a zap of pleasure right to my core, making me squirm against the sheets. I feel the urge to touch myself, my hand snaking down between my thighs.
He sees that and tuts, the clicks of his tongue filling the room. “So needy.”, he mutters softly, his hips rutting forward, pushing past my lips again. Fucking into my mouth, as my fingertips reach my clothed pussy, pressing onto my sensitive clit.
I moan around his dick, letting him take the lead, his fingers tangled in my hair, while I touch myself, my hips moving with my desperate strokes. Getting sloppier again.
All of a sudden, he pulls himself out of me. “Fuck, not yet.”, he says, seeming a bit worked up. Crouching down and capturing my lips into a searing kiss, as he positions me against his sheets, continuing the kisses down my body.
I can see his dick, hanging between his legs, hard and heavy, glistening wet with my spit, before he kneels in front of me. His fingers hook under the fabric of my panties, pulling them off. They cling onto me, with how damp they are.
“So wet, hm? Did it turn you on to suck me off?”, he whispers, seeing the wetness glistening between my thighs, as he leans down, coasting with his lips over my pussy.
“Yes, fuck.”, I breathe, trying to squirm against his face, but he is just out of reach. He chuckles when I whine, desperate for him to finally put his mouth onto me. And he does, pressing kisses to my inner thighs, his stubble scratching over the sensitive skin.
Close, so close, but not quite where I want him.
He sucks on the soft skin, leaving little red marks, his left hand toying with my pussy. My hips move of their own volition and I can’t believe how the almost-touches make me even more turned on. “Please, I need-“, I start.
I can’t finish the sentence because his teeth sink into my soft flesh, while his fingers slip into me, the sensations almost making me lose my mind. He pushes deeper inside me, and I feel his canines press into the sensitive skin. Fuck, this is driving me crazy.
I lift my head to look at what he’s doing, and our eyes meet. He pulls back, pressing a kiss to the spot he just bit into, licking over it. His fingers still fucking me softly.
“Don’t stop.”, I plead.
The corners of his mouth turn up into a knowing smirk while he places more kisses, slowly inching in on my pussy, leaving another little hickey on my inner thigh. He pulls the digits out and puts his mouth right over it.
The slow, deliberate touches are gone. In a frenzy, he’s losing himself in my pussy, licking, sucking, nudging his nose against my clit. I move with him, dragging myself over his lips, searching for more friction, and the sounds that drop from my mouth are almost obscene.
My head drops back and I have the whole scene mirrored back to me from above. The strands of his long dark hair cascading down. His back tattoo, the black ink on his taut muscles, moving with him, as he eats me out.
How he grips my thighs, his hands digging into the supple swells. Spreading me wide for him.
He looks up at me, seeing the awe on my face, hearing the sounds I’m making, which makes him hum against me. Diving in again. His tongue licks into me, fucking me, and my back arches off the sheets, my hands clutching them. Close, so close to-
Ding-dong!
We’re interrupted by the bell.
He lifts his head, seeming a little drunk on pussy, judging by the drowsy look on his face. “Fuck, that’s the delivery.”, he stammers and the back of his hand wipes over his mouth.
“What delivery?”, I ask, confused and hazy with pleasure, propping my head up from the sheets.
“Food.”, he explains, and like on cue, my stomach grumbles.
He pulls away from me, looking around, picking up random pieces of clothing. He scrambles to put a shirt and shorts on while I can’t help but laugh because of the ridiculousness of the situation. “Thats on you, Mädl, for messing with my meticulously planned evening, with your siren call.”, he grumbles, which only makes me laugh harder.
He fits his dick into his pants, the erection tenting up the front, and he grumpily pulls his shirt down further, even though that doesn’t really help either with hiding it. “Fuck it.”, he cusses and heads out the room, cursing some more in German.
I shake my head, grinning like a crazy person.
I also look for some clothes, but I’m not quite bold enough to reach for any of his shirts, putting on my own and then my panties, following him down the stairs.
“Ooh, you remembered my favourite spot!”, I say when I see the huge bag with the familiar logo on it in his hands.
He grins at me, and my god, a man has never looked that good in a Cannibal Corpse shirt and some old Adidas shorts that are almost too tight for his burly thighs. He pushes his hair to the side, pulling it out of the t-shirt, because some of it got caught in there when he hurriedly put it on. “Of course. Should I put it in the kitchen oooor…?”, he asks.
“Can we eat now? I’m actually a little hungry, I didn’t have a big lunch.”, I tell him hesitatingly. Swaying from one bare foot to the other, looking down at them. Unsure, because I mean, we were in the middle of-
But he pushes my doubts away in just a moment, putting his arm around me and pressing a tiny kiss onto the top of my head. “Sure, can’t have you go hungry, hm?” and the relief lets my shoulders drop down, even if my worries were a bit stupid to begin with.
“You want to eat at the bar?”, he suggests then, his eyebrows raised as he grins at me.
“Wha- You have a bar in this house?”, I clarify.
He nods. “Yeah, like a whole room with- Come on. I’ll just show you.” He takes my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine, as he pulls me with him, the bag full of take-away food in the other one. Way too much for two people.
When I follow him downstairs, it first dawns on me that we never really held hands before. It seems so simple, so normal – so natural, that I don’t even register it at first. I smile to myself, gripping his hand tighter, trying to keep up with his steps.
I have to say, the house is meticulously upkept, there’s yet a spot I have to see untidy or dusty. Which is… kind of amazing, especially considering that he only stays here on his leave. The same goes for his cellar that is more like another floor, where we halt in front of two doors. He gestures in the direction of the right one, while actually stepping towards the one on the left. “That’s my home gym and that’s the bar.”, he says.
“You… also… have a gym?”, I ask, a bit incredulous. Man, this house is bigger than I thought, when I first saw it from the outside.
“Yeah, I mean I train almost every day. Uh, holding up my shape doesn’t get easier with age.”, he explains, with a lopsided smile. Of course he works out. I’ve seen his body and my god. Sure, he has his little tummy – that I adore –, but his strength clearly comes from a lot of hard training. It makes sense that he also keeps this up when on leave.
“Can I take a look?”, I ask, being my nosy self.
He shrugs, but smiles. “Sure.”
For a moment, I regret asking that, because I have to let his hand go. I sigh and pop my head in the door. Nice standard equipment, not a lot of machines. A treadmill, and a lot of weights, barbells and dumbbells. It looks any other gym would, right down to the mirrors spanning the whole wall (he seems to like those); you would have never guessed it was a private one in a cellar.
The star of the show is definitely the little bar next door. I enter the room right after him, chuckling a bit to myself when I see him ducking his head to fit through doorframe – even in his own home.
A worn-out leather couch to the left. The dark grey painted wall behind it is littered with plaques like you would find in a pub.
A pool table at the right side of the room, and then the mahogany bar on the back wall right in the middle. Bottles of liquor in rows, glasses in all shapes and sizes. When he flicks the light switch behind the bar, all of it lights up, in a warm orange hue.
Another fridge, with a glass door, though it’s half empty.
Three bar stools lined up neatly in front of the bar and I take a seat on one of them, feeling the leather top against my bare ass and thighs, with how my t-shirt rides up.
He sets the take-away bag down on the counter, getting two plates from one of the lower cabinets and two forks. Then he starts unpacking, producing container after container until I think there might be more people joining us, with how much he ordered.
“Take whatever you want, I’ll eat the rest.”, he tells me, waiting for me to actually do that.
“Is uh-“, I start, but he interrupts me with a smile. “Everything’s vegetarian, Liebes.”, he nods. “I checked. Twice.”
My face lights up and I look at the containers, inspect the different dishes and put a little bit of everything on my plate. With a double portion of the little spring rolls I like so much. He waits until I’m done getting my plate together and then just dumps one of the meals onto his.
I watch him eat, as he’s leaning against the counter, shoveling huge amounts of food in his mouth, while being very meticulous and methodical about it. Eating efficiently. This man eats to sustain, not to enjoy. There are parts of him, that I think are shaped by his profession, and this seems to be one of them.
I hide the half-smile that stalks onto my face as I see him standing there behind the bar, casually wolfing down the first plate of food, then a second one. I rope him into a conversation of how he put the room together while we have dinner like this. My feet dangle above the ground as I eat spoonsful of delicious Asian take-away, very content with sitting here like this. With him.
He looks back at the wall behind him, like an idea just came to his mind, and then back at me. I pull up one of my eyebrows, still munching on a spring roll.
“You want a cocktail?”, he asks me, grinning.
“Uh, sure, you know how to make one?”, I return the question.
“Äh, ja-ah! If I wasn’t a soldier, I would’ve become a bartender, for sure.”, he jokingly states, winking at me, and I almost melt into the floor. “I can make a decent enough drink.”, he then clarifies, the spark in his eyes still a little mischievous. “So, what do you want then? A moscow mule? Or a dirty martini?" He pauses for dramatic effect. "Or an orgasm?" He wiggles his eyebrows at me, and I can't help but laugh, even though I roll my eyes at him.
"Brute.”, I take a jab at him. “My favourite is actually a gin fizz.", I say, then.
"Really? I did not see that coming.", he comments.
"Why?"
"I don't know, maybe I expected something sweet tasting. Like you." His gaze darkens, while he is still grinning at me. A sudden hunger glints in his eyes while he looks at me, like he's thinking about it. How he ate me out when we got so rudely interrupted, by the delivery – even though it was delicious.
A tingle runs up my spine, just from the way he's looking at me. I suppress a shiver, because the feeling doesn't dissipate when his eyes drop away, looking around the bar.
"Hmm, I think I have a fresh lemon here somewhere.", he mutters to himself.
I prop my cheek on my arm, that’s leaning on the bar, and watch him fix me the drink.
He takes a crystal tumbler from the shelves and inspects some of the bottles, until he decides on one. I don't know the brand, but it certainly looks fancy. Ice cubes into the shaker, simple sirup and gin following shortly.
He’s almost dancing behind the bar counter, with the way he’s getting the ingredients, preparing this rather simple drink.
He cuts the lemon in half and just squeezes it, the juice dripping down into the shaker. Another person might have used a citrus-press. Not him though.
His hair whipping back and forth as he turns around, putting the top on the shaker and hitting the top once. A little spank that I feel…somewhere else… for reasons.
He starts to shake the cocktail, and it’s ridiculous how small the shaker is in his huge hands, he doesn’t even need both to hold it shut. Watching my reaction as he flips and spins it between his fingers, the ridiculous movements pulling laughs from me. Repeating the ones that do. The huge burly man, being the scary looking dude he is, while at the same time not being scary at all. At least not to me. When he’s here with me, like this.
He pours the drink over the ice cubes and fills the rest of the glass with soda, just like the recipe calls for. Taking the little zest of lemon he saved, squeezing it once and then putting it in.
König takes a sip, trying it. ‘Not bad’ is what the grimace on his face tells me before he hands me the tumbler and I take a drink. The bitter notes of gin and the sour sting of lemon juice hit my tongue.
“Nice drink, barkeep.”, I say, taking another sip and put the drink down in front of him. He drinks as well, downing at least half with one single gulp.
“Sind Sie eigentlich öfter hier?”, he asks me, with a sultry smile, not seeming serious at all.
“What does that mean? Funny man, I don’t speak your language.”, I tell him.
He laughs. “It’s flirtingly asking somebody if they come here often. It became a running gag in German as a bad pickup line.”
"Really? And that works?", I ask, skeptically pulling an eyebrow up.
He shrugs, leans forward, against the bar, coming closer and closer, until his face is just inches from mine. "No, it doesn't, but if I see a beautiful woman, I have to try it nonetheless.", he almost purrs. His fucking voice deeper than I ever heard it before. With the way he's looking at me, pure unadulterated lust in his eyes, he pulls me in.
His fingers softly stroke over the inside of my arm, until the thumb reaches my pulsepoint, the pad pressing into it lightly – just once – before he pulls it closer and presses a soft kiss to the sensitive skin. His eyes don’t break away from mine for even a moment.
My mouth falls open. My breath is getting caught in my throat and I can feel a pang of need between my thighs, the tingling feeling trickling up my spine.
He straightens back up again, just a little bit, beaming at me with a cocky grin. "See, and that works every time.", he taunts me.
"Well, I'll say.", I answer, still a little out of breath, which makes him laugh, but also come closer again.
"Yeah?", he asks softly. "You think, I can get a kiss from the beautiful woman at the bar like this?"
I nod, lifting myself off the barstool, to meet his lips in a kiss. “Maybe also a second kiss.”, I say, deepening it. My tongue strokes against his, teasing, and tasting the gin on his breath.
"Will the barkeeper also take the beautiful woman to his king size bed?", I ask him, which might be considered bold, if it was indeed a beautiful woman propositioning the barkeeper at the bar who had been flirting with her all evening. But it's just König and me, sitting here together in comfy clothes after we shared a meal. And I'm eager to finish what we started before.
"Hmmm, they are the only two left in the bar, so the barkeeper might just close it up to bend the beautiful woman over the bar and take her right here and now.", he spins my little story further.
"Well, that would be entirely possible, if they had some protection.", I retort, but the imagination alone is making me hot.
A little square foil packet suddenly appears in his hand, almost like out of thin air – more likely from his pocket. "Didn't tell you, I'm not only a barkeeper, but also a magician?", he says, a grin breaking through his expression, even if he tries to stay serious.
I have to laugh so hard I almost fall off the barstool, with the way my body is shaking from laughter ripping through me.
This man. It's quite unfair, to pair his dry wit with those good looks. I mean, it might not be to everybody's taste, but in my book tall, dark and brooding always works – though in his case, the notion of that much rather stems from the way he looks, not the way he is – and him being hilarious like this, especially when I don’t see it coming, definitely has me on my tiptoes.
“A man of many talents, I see.”, I tease him.
“Don’t you know it.”, he says, capturing my smile in a kiss again, barely breaking it to join me on my side of the bar.
I'm practically bent over the bar already, with the way my ass barely touches the seat and I was leaning over to kiss him, trying to get as close to him as possible. He just has to lift my hips a little bit, until I'm truly strewn over the smooth wooden surface.
He doesn't hesitate to pull my panties down, the wet fabric clinging onto me. It doesn’t take much, I’m so wound tight already, because we got interrupted. His fingers coast over the sensitive skin, and I squirm against his touch, holding onto the bar.
"Please, just- do me.", I beg, not minding how desperate that makes me sound.
"Your wish is my command.", he repeats his little quip from earlier this evening. He pulls the shorts down just low enough to take his dick out, the length resting against my ass, and I can't resist moving my hips a little bit, grinding back into him.
"Stop it.", he grumbles, spanking my buttcheek once, with the other hand. "Impatient brat.", he calls me which pulls a little chuckle from my lips.
The ripping of the foil, the snap of rubber, and then his dick nudges against me, dipping into me – just the tip. Fuck, I just want him inside me. He pulls back and repeats the motion a few times, until he finally sinks into me. Giving me a few moments to adjust myself to his length, his hands squeezing my tight ass, before he starts to pound into me.
Harder than last time he fucked me from behind because he isn’t limited by the tight space of his car’s backseat.
“Yes, yes, fuck.”, I whine, the little pleas intermingling with the resounding claps of skin against skin. The whole bar is shaking, the sturdy wood holding out against his hard thrusts.
His hands let go of my ass, his arms framing my body, holding onto the bartop. Using it as leverage to fuck me a tiny bit rougher. And I take everything he’s giving me, relishing the feeling of losing myself in the hard fucking.
Over 300 pounds pushing me up against the furniture, his dick pushing deep inside me. The tip slamming against my cervix, which is making me lose my mind fast.
Groans and mewls drop from my lips with every push into me, the sounds getting louder when he hits that sensitive spot inside me. I almost wanna bite my lip, but I know better than that by now. I know he wants to hear me.
Suddenly, he pulls himself out of me, and for a split second, I'm confused. But instead, his fingers slip into me, the sensations getting rid of my thoughts.
"Fucking hell, you're soaked.", he groans, his digits working in and out of me, the wet sounds almost obscene. The whines dropping from my lips as they stroke over the sensitive spot inside, the same one that his dick was flitting over just moments ago.
"Oh, fuck.", I moan, the intense stimulation making me shake, desperately holding onto the hard surface beneath me, as I cum on his fingers. He pulls them out again, and I whimper because of the sudden loss of fullness. He bends forward, his hands spreading my cheeks, while he laps up the wetness. The hurried licks of his tongue against the sensitive skin prolonging my orgasm, making me shiver.
He straightens back up and lifts me from the bar and just flips me around, setting me down on the wood again, so that I face him. The expression on his face, the hooded lids, the drowsiness in his eyes, the satisfied smirk, his lips glistening of my juices, … Yeah, no man ever has looked this good in a Cannibal Corpse shirt.
My arms reach back, propping myself up on the bar, and my legs spread in an instant, inviting him in. His eyes drop down to my pussy, dripping and still needy. He positions himself, gripping his rubbered-up dick at the base, dragging it over my clit, teasing my entrance with his tip. Driving us both crazy, I can see it on his face.
"Fuck, please...", I whine, my hips bucking up against him.
With a chuckle, he's slipping into my wetness again, easily. Stretching me around his dick and I groan when he bottoms me out, being a little overstimulated already.
He's fucking me in this position, hard just like before, my hips almost at the perfect height, because a normal table would have never been tall enough. I scramble to even hold on, my hands gripping his shoulders now instead of the surface beneath me, trying to not get shaken off it, but he holds me firm in his grasp, holding me steadfast, so his hard fucking doesn’t push me off.
"I'm not gonna make it for much longer.", he grunts quietly, almost like an apology. “’m close, fuck. Gonna come." A deep breath shakes his chest.
My hand extends to cup his face, and even though he seems almost lost in his search for release, he nearly stills.
"Do it. Come for me.", I whisper, my lips coasting against his.
The sound that escapes his throat is a desperate one, and he pulls me tighter against him. One arm around my waist, his hand on my hip, the fingertips digging into the supple swell. My fingers stroke through his hair, the soft strands, and I press my lips to his.
And he kisses me with a frenzy, until I feel his spine stiffen up and a short deep moan against my lips.
He shudders, his whole body shaking, as he spills inside me, his hips still rutting forward, and for a moment I wish, the condom between us wasn't there. Some creampie for dessert.
"Fuck...", he breathes, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck, his orgasm finally subsiding. “You okay?”
I nod, a faint ‘yes’ in my lips, and I slump against him, holding onto his waist, breathing heavily. Relishing the embrace, as he pulls me even closer with his strong arms. I breathe in his warm comforting scent, the fabric of the shirt rough against my cheek, as I nuzzle into him.
“I believe there is integral part of my home which you haven’t seen yet.”, he whispers, pressing soft kisses against the side of my face.
“Really?”, I ask, resting against his huge sweaty chest, my hands still tangled in his t-shirt.
Instead of answering, he lifts me off the surface, my legs closing around his waist. My panties are somewhere, but not covering my pussy that is sitting against his hips. But he doesn’t seem to care that I'm staining his shirt with my wetness. I mean, getting pussy juice on a Cannibal Corpse shirt has to be an achievement on its own, right? I giggle to myself, as he carries me up to his bathroom.
The shower indeed seems spacious enough for him to kneel down – contrary to the one in my apartment.
His hands lather up some soap and start to move over my body, the warmth of his fingers coasting over me. Softly cleaning me and washing away the suds. Refusing to let me do the same for him.
He gets down on his knees, lowering himself even further to the floor, to be right where he wants to be. At eye-level with my pussy. He lifts my left leg, placing it over his shoulder, and presses his face between my thighs. Licking and sucking eagerly.
The spray of water from above hits his hair as well, wetting and darkening the long strands, while my fingers tangle in them, my other hand looking for somewhere to hold onto. The cool tiles press into my back, while the water raining down on us and his huge warm body heat me up. My screams echo off the walls as he makes me come on his tongue, my legs almost giving out while his arms hold me up, not stopping until I’m spent.
We get out of the shower after having been in there for way too long, wasting water standing under the spray. He hands me a bathtowel and I wrap myself in it, just standing there. Watching him dry himself off. He’s quick and methodical about it, the soft fabric stroking over his wet skin, soaking up everything.
He hangs up his towel, and I try not to stare at his naked tattooed body. I mean, I’ve seen him like this before. Also, his dick has just been inside me, but I still can’t help it. I can’t tear my eyes off of him.
“What?”, he asks, as he sees me staring.
“Nothing, just looking at you.”, I say, pulling the towel tighter around me, cocooning myself up.
He comes closer. “Looking comfy.”, he comments, amusement twinkling in his eyes.
“I am.”, I answer, and his arms close around me, pressing me against his broad naked chest.
“Stay the night?”, he asks, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. Me all huddled up in the huge bathtowel can only nod and grin up at him.
next part: waking up in his bed or more stuff in the Masterlist ~
a/n: a special long chapter for the start of the weekend... i hope you guys had as much fun reading it, as i had writing it, gonna go take a cold shower now 🫠
#metalhead!könig#she likes the dark#könig#könig cod#könig mw2#konig#konig cod#konig mw2#könig fanfiction#cod mw2 smut#könig smut#konig smut#cod smut#könig x reader#tw: age gap
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