#i drew all this before realizing the belt issue

[pezhead]

Was trying to think of better ways for the turtles to actually disguise themselves (especially since I like the idea of regular humans being way more of a threat to the boys).

[knightmareaceblue]

A redraw of the group photo from the Nether hopping arc! I wanted to get in more practice drawing the characters in this specific style, and also see if I can fix some issues with their designs that were bugging me. I... mostly succeeded on that 2nd part?

Some notes regarding these CG designs (plus some headcannons):

-Red's outfit frustrates me, because I like it a lot without colour, but once I start trying to add colour it always ends up looking off. The current colour scheme is fine, I guess, but I'm a little torn on whether or not the colours suit Red, and not making him too close to the other colour schemes present (which I like a lot more).

-Red's outfits will often have animal motifs designed into them. Usually cat, rabbit, or pig, but they have all sorts of animal clothes.

-Though it can't usually be seen due to not drawing them with their hood up often, Red's hoodie has cat ears. The reason I don't usually draw the hood up is because I like drawing his hair too much.

-Red will alternate between gloves, bracelets, and, post AVM season 3, a yellow headband and armbands.

-Under the hoodie Red will usually wear a tank top or crop top. Though it can't be seen in this photo, the arm holes for the hoodie are incredibly large, so Red's top can sometimes be seen when lifting her arms or looking at them from the side.

-In general, I do like Yellow's outfit. It suits her personality well and has some good colours. My primary concern is that it may be too... plain? Stereotypical? Basically, that it's too stereotypically 'nerd' to be interesting. But I can't come up with anything better, so this'll be her default outfit for now.

-What I do like on Yellow, however, is the hair. I think the short hair with a singular braid is really cool. A nice mix of neat and practical and stylish, especially mixed with the glasses.

-One issue I do have is with the boots. All the shoes in general, actually. They all look so samey, especially Blue and Yellow's boots. This is a pretty simplistic style I'm drawing in though, and I don't want to make anything too complicated. Why do shoes have to be so stupid?

-I used to have the same problem with Second's outfit as with Red's - particularly, with their shirt. However, that's when I realized that Second is an artist, and can change their shirt design at the drop of a hat. So, now the shirt has a different drawing on it regularly. Second will try to use all their friends colours in their designs. If they leave a person off, it usually means their either consciously or subconsciously upset with that stick. If they don't draw on their shirt at all and leave it blank, it usually means something's up with them.

-I also added leggings from the previous design. It felt right.

-Both Second and Chosen dislike shoes. I will not elaborate, but Second's tolerance is better than Chosen. He can handle it for short periods of time, but is usually grumpy and will kick them off first chance he gets.

-I like to imagine Second using her large, poofy hair to put things in, the same way she'd put things in their inventory. I also like to imagine Green is low-key horrified by this, while Red, Blue, and Yellow will also use her fluff to store things. Sometimes without Second even noticing.

-Second carries the belt with them in their hair in their inventory and will put it on before fighting/platforming so their oversized shirt doesn't get in their way. Otherwise they prefer to have their clothing loose and flowing.

-Everyone has a multicoloured accessory. Second was the one who started it with his bracelet, then the others wanted some too so Second drew up more for the gang. An anklet for Red, an armband for Yellow, a belt for Green, and a neckerchief for Blue.

-Green may just have the best outfit of everyone here. It's sleek, it's cool, it suits them, and it's easy to fight in (with an easily striped jacket if need be). I also added a lil choker.

-I don't think I expressed this before, but I didn't like Green's previous hairstyle. Something about it irked me, but I couldn't place what at the time. Now I know it'd needed more on top, haha.

-Blue's outfits tend to be more on the practical side, since they do a lot of manual labour, but with bits of fun and whimsy added in. After AvM Season 3, she trades her funny socks for long funny socks and fun stockings.

-The original intent was for everyone to have a different type of hair, but Blue's and Yellow's ended up a lot more similar than I'd hope. The idea was for Blue to have really thick hair, but it's hard to tell. Might think of something else later.

-Anyone who wants something different can go to Second and ask. They all have their own things they like, but they're all willing to try almost anything, with very little exception.

Feel free to let me know your thoughts. I think I really like these character designs I came up with. :)

Original pic used for reference:

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Debrief, Pt. 1 (Intro)

(A/N: Politics! Verbal bullshitting! Thinly veiled threats! Overabundance of accessories and unnecessary magic use! POLITICS!

To quote Arya off screen, "I'd rather go through Gil'ead three more times than deal with any of this political hellscape, but *singsong* here I am! Putting on a STUPID dress uniform, about to be, for all intents and purposes, fucking INTERROGATED about being ambushed, losing my mate, teleporting a dragon egg, getting TORTURED while, haha, I was being asked a series of questions, also known as being interrogated, becAUSE THIS WON'T BE TRIGGERING AT ALL! :D GLEN WHY THE FUCK HAVEN'T WE RENOUNCED OUR FUCKING CULTURE YET?!"

Arya is required to attend an official debriefing on the ambush and her captivity by the council of elf lords and ladies. She prefers when she gets stabbed from the front.)

~~~~~~

“I still think this could be done on paper.” 

Glenwing patted his commander’s shoulder and pulled her into his side for a quick hug, never once faltering in their pace as they meandered to the great hall. “You’ll do fine. You can handle questions.” He paused, a grim tilt to his half smirk. “Don’t handle these questions like you did the last ones you got. You’re supposed to answer these ones.”

The dark humor drew a similarly tight lipped grin from her. “I���m not worried about that.” 

Arya raised a hand to run it over her hair and shot her medic a sheepishly appreciative look when he caught her wrist. It had taken both of them an almost embarrassing amount of time to remember how to tie the Flat Crest braid required of elven women when in dress uniform. It was even longer for Glen to do it neatly enough for Rhunön to give the plait a passing inspection, the smith’s obsession with perfection not helping matters. 

They both hadn’t voiced what was on their minds during the entire, rather exasperating, process. The real reason why they had so much trouble tying what should have been a hairstyle they knew by heart after all these years. 

Fäolin had always been the one to do whatever hairstyle was asked of them for official events, even before he joined their squad. He’d laugh at their attempts whenever they returned to the forest, usher them into a chair and deftly weave bright silver or midnight black strands into the designs required in seconds. Arya and Glenwing had simply never had to learn.

Arya let out a rough sigh and tucked her thumbs under either side of the shiny belt clasped around her waist. She missed Wyrda’s familiar weight on her right hip. “This is just another political stunt. I can manage Islanzadí, we’re…I don’t know, figuring it out, I guess. But all of them?” The young elf gestured helplessly, a hint of sharp restlessness and budding frustration in the movement. “Who in the hells knows what they’re going to ask. There’s too many strings here, tangled in too many webs.” She made a face at the metaphors. “At least I’m falling into the stupid formal language again easy enough.”

“And just like that, you’re out of it.” Glen gave the combat liaison another squeeze around the shoulders, pointedly ignoring the open stare of a lone elf sitting in an alcove as they passed. “You can count Iläin to at least be fair. And Rendir’s still pretty fond of you, even if you haven’t really talked since you got back. They’re not all against you, and this is just another debriefing, not some official trial for blame.” 

Arya snorted softly. “Oh, we both know blame is going to be a factor. Valaria looked incensed when I said I wasn’t sure how Durza got through the preliminary wards on the outskirts without triggering an alarm. She’s got a lot to explain, but it’s not like I can question her.” 

Glen bobbed his head in reluctant agreement. “Yeah…Valaria might be an issue. She was pretty harsh on me when I had my own debriefing.” The medic tapped the tip of each mechanical finger against the end of his metal thumb, running through nerve check after nerve check as he realized a troubling fact. “Däthedr reigned her in, but…”

“But he and the Queen probably won’t do the same for me.” Arya shook her head. “Too much personal history. Any interference could be seen as them interfering with the investigation and trying to shield me.”

“It’s pretty clear there’s nothing to blame you for, even a Mani’s Cave salamander could see that.” The image of Lady Valaria of House Teorann standing at her podium as an eyeless, bioluminescent salamander, constantly pushing the useless spectacles she wore just for show up her slimy tube of a snout, made Arya crack a genuine smile. “Just be polite, don’t give them anything to jump on.”

“Or you could light a fire under their asses, see how they like it.” Both elves looked up, startled that there was already someone waiting outside the doors to the great hall. Brom shook out the match still burning from lighting his pipe and tucked it into a small leather pocket sewn into the inside of his armored coat. “Not literally. Why do I always feel like I have to add that on with you?”

“Because you taught me too well.” Arya flashed her former mentor a sharp toothed grin. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have a remedial study hall to get to, old man?”

Brom grumbled into his beard, pipesmoke wafting up each time his lips parted. He had let the hairs grow again since they arrived, no longer quite as neat or well-kempt but passable as it grew out into a more formidable piece of facial hair. “As if I’d let you in there without an inspection. You’d probably go in with your boots untied and your shirt untucked if I wasn’t here.” He glanced at Glenwing. “Well, if Glen let you get away with it.” The medic gave him a grin of his own, knowing full well that was a lie. Brom cared far more than he ever wanted anyone to know, the sentimental old bastard. 

The old Rider gave his former ward a going over with his pipe clamped in his teeth. He tugged her sleeves straight and smoothed the lines of her shoulders, yanked the wrinkles out of the formal jacket by the hem. 

“Right. You pass.” His voice was gruff, but there was a certain warmth there. In a move only Glen or Brom could pull off, the man patted Arya’s cheek twice before he clasped her face in his hands. The gedwëy ignasia was rough and warm against her skin, tingling with everpresent magic despite his dragon’s passing. “You did everything you could and more, you hear me? Whatever those high and mighty idiots in there say, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of and everything to be proud of. Understood?” 

Arya searched his face, the determination and buried worry etched into his skin above wild eyebrows and piercing blue eyes. The support she found meant multitudes, the support he had always shown, even when his rage and revenge was all he had in the world. She swore she’d never tell him, but despite the teasing they shared now, the arguments, the sometimes heavy handed tactics to try and prepare her for the world outside Du Weldenvarden…he had been more of a father to her than anyone. 

So of course there was only one response.

Brom felt the young elf just barely relax. She smiled at him, beaming, that little spitfire elfling again being reminded of her worth, of all the things she could do in the world. “Yes’sir. Understood.”

“Good girl.” The Rider released her and stepped back, giving her one last onceover. “Give them hell. I’m late for Oromis and Glaedr’s remedial lessons, or whatever you call them.” 

“Don’t pull a muscle, old man!” Arya called after his retreating back, getting an annoyed grunt in response. 

Glen checked the watch on his wrist as Arya’s smile faded. Two minutes. “You ready?”

The woman sucked in a breath and held it as she snapped to the familiar bearing of Attention, dropping into At Ease for a brief moment before letting the air out in a rush. “No. But it’s not like I can prepare for this bullshit.”

“I’ll be right here. Just yell and I’ll be in there in a heartbeat. Less, even.” Thirty seconds. Glen pulled his commander into one last quick hug before he smoothed out her uniform again. “Verrunsmal äthr.” 

Arya pushed her forehead against his and gave him a firm punch to the upper chest. “Verrunsmal äthr.” 

Then she turned, straightened with another steadying breath, and entered the great hall.

[fixfoxnox]

I wonder how the characters of sito would change and carry themselves if Roach did end up dying in Russia, either by Makarov or the poison/injuries lol

Honestly I do think this would be a very interesting thing to do, and I actually did consider killing Roach at that point, but I ended up deciding not to do that and the reason is actually the question that you posed.

Some quick warnings: Death and Suicide ideation/suicide

First of all, and the main reason I decided not to do this is Roach. The amount of absolute mental damage I think this would do to Roach is insane. Like dying again, having two lives under your belt, and having to completely start over again? I genuinely think it would drive him crazy. Not to mention the last thing he saw of Soap and Ghost would have been them looking at him like he was a monster.

I actually talked about this at one point with @probablylikesixducks (hello dear), and we discussed the idea of Roach essentially starting to view his rebirth with his memories as some sort of punishment for himself. We discussed the possibility of Roach starting to take his own life less seriously and essentially sacrificing himself over and over for the team, even in cases where he doesn't need to, because at any minor thing going wrong he believes that he has already ruined his next chance.

One of the things we discussed is Jackson's role in things, if he also remembers his old life every time he dies, so maybe he ends up in the same lives as Roach and realizes what he's doing and tries to stop it.

Its a very depressing idea, but one that I think could be interesting to delve into.

As for the rest of the team, it absolutely would change them. Roach's death would leave them all feeling extremely guilty, and I think Soap and Ghost would take the brunt of that. Soap already has issues with blaming himself for anything gone wrong, and I don't see this being much different to be honest. Even though he didn't know and couldn't do anything, I think he would beat himself up for ever believing that Roach was a traitor.

Similar thing with Ghost, I think he would see it as a failure on his part for not reacting quick enough to get to Roach and not being able to save him once he got there. I think knowing Ghost, his last interaction with Roach and knowing that the last Roach saw of them was them viewing him as a traitor, I think that would weigh on him.

I think it might have actually broken up the relationship with Soap and Ghost if Roach had died. I mean both of them clearly loved him, even when he was a "traitor." So I think finding out he never was a traitor would really hit them hard. It would probably feel like a hole was left in their relationship and their lives and I could see that driving them apart. I could also see that bringing them together in an odd way as well.

There is no doubt in my mind that if Roach had died, any and all trust that Soap and Ghost had in Price would be thrown out the window. I can't see them staying 141 if something like that happened, I imagine they'd leave simply because they wouldn't be able to trust Price or look at him without feeling some major anger.

As for Gaz, I see him also being weighed down with guilt, but I can't see him leaving the 141. Instead, I think he'd absolutely throw himself into work. Likely become more like set on the job and doing what it takes to take down terrorists. That little line he drew in the sand? Washed away. I could see him becoming a bit darker, a bit more willing to take the extra step to do what has to be done.

As for Price...I think he'd carry it like he carries all of the deaths in the original. He carries Roach close to his heart, he uses the memory of him as motivation, and at the end of it all, his war ends with Makarov.

I could see the fact that Price knows that Roach has died before haunting him. Him wondering if Roach is being forced to relive the cycle again, I think it would keep him up at night. All of the blame Soap and Ghost would place on him? He fully agrees with them. In his mind, Roach's death would be his fault. His fault for ever letting Roach go to Makarov in the first place.

[obx-pogue4life]

What A Night

Summary: Y/N and Rafe set out for date night at a new restaurant that ends up going wrong and they try to save the night so its not a total loss

Warnings: None really! It’s more fluff than smut and has softer BF Rafe vibes :) Beware of my poor editing and spacing issues tho lol thats the real warning... 

HUGE shoutout to @maybankforlife for forcing me to realize and come to terms with my love for all things Drew Starkey! I blame you completely and I’ll never forgive you ❤️

*Not my pic but I will gladly credit them if anyone knows who it belongs to*

"Shit, why the hell can't we find this God damn place, Y/N? I've lived here all my life and never had this much of a problem gettin' around for fuck sake!

I look over at my boyfriend Rafe and laugh as he continues to swear and mutter under his breath. We were supposed to be going to a new restaurant downtown. Our reservations were for 7pm and we were already about 20 minutes late and as far as I could tell, we weren't anywhere near where we needed to be. It was supposed to be this amazing little Italian restaurant that got rave reviews and Rafe and I had been invited as some of the first lucky few to get to try it out, opening week. A definite perk of dating a Cameron- we got invited to things like this all the time.

"Why don't we just pull over and ask for directions, I'm sure someon-

"NO, I'm not asking for directions Y/N. Shit- this shouldn't be that difficult" he mutters again to himself, under his breath.

Typical Rafe, too proud to ask for directions. He'd rather circle around downtown aimlessly for hours before he would even consider asking anyone for help.

I stare out the passenger window as the familiar buildings and parking garages make yet another appearance on tonight's quest for dinner.

"You should try the GPS again babe", he says to me.

"Well, I can if you want, but it sent us to the wrong place the first time we tried it so why would it send us to the right place the second time? I'll try baby, but I wouldn't get your hopes up", I chuckle.

"Yeah, you're probably right", he whispers, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"This is really starting to piss me off", he says as his stomach began to rumble. I laugh and poke at his stomach.

"Awwwww, my poor baby", I mock him and he looks at me with dagger eyes but then laughs.

"It's ok babe, I'm getting really hungry too. Do you wanna just ditch the opening and hit up a McDonald's or something instead?

I could tell he was thinking about it and before he could answer me, his stomach growled again loudly.

"Fuck this", he laughs and begins to pull off the road. "Where the hell, even are we?" "How did this happen?", he asks me shaking his head.

I looked over at him and completely lose it and start laughing uncontrollably and the next thing I know, he's laughing too. We both just start cracking up over this whole silly mess and can't stop. We laugh until we cry and just when we think it is all out of our systems, Rafe's stomach growls again and it makes us erupt into a whole new fit of giggles.

Once we were able to catch our breath and calm ourselves down, Rafe grabs my hand and interlocks our fingers together and smiles at me. "I Love you, Y/N", he says. I smile back and reply, "Love you more" as he groans and rolls his eyes at me, smiling. "You, my darlin', will never, NEVER love me more than I love you, it's just not possible", he says giving me the cockiest, most sly smile imaginable. I giggle and playfully swat his arm.

"Rafe", I say softly, unbuckling my seat belt and turning towards him.

"Yeah", he looks at me unsuspectingly.

I'm not sure what exactly was going through my head but in that moment, I decided to make the most of our little mishap and reach over to him and unbuckle his seat belt.

"What are you doing, Y/N? Why are you undoing my seat bel-

I cut him off by putting my finger to his lips. "Shhhh", I say leaning closer to his face.

"Slide your seat back baby, I whisper softly, lightly licking the outer part of his ear.

I hear him gulp and he immediately slides his seat back as far as it will go.

He looks at me with wide eyes waiting for me to make my next move. I swiftly shift from my seat to his and try to straddle his lap as sexily as I can and I think I do a pretty god job, because he is just staring at me with this goofy grin on his face. But as I try to get myself situated better on his lap, I notice some tension tugging on the side of my skirt. All thoughts of how sexy I think I'm being fly out the window when I look over and notice that I have managed to get the pocket of my skirt caught over the gear shift. We both look at each other and then at my skirt pocket and immediately start laughing again.

"Fuck it, I give up", I giggle and bury my face in his chest as he fixes my skirt for me.

My face is flaming with embarrassment. "What the hell is going on tonight?", I ask him.

"I dunno Y/N, but I liked where this was heading", he says cheekily. Why'd you stop?" he questions me.

"Well I kinda ruined the moment Rafe- there's nothing sexy about what happened just now, is there? I mean, how does that even happen" I groan and look away feeling completely deflated.

"Y/N", he said.

I ignore him and start to climb off his lap.

"Y/N", he said more softly. "Stop and look at me"

As I lift my head up and look at his face, he has a huge smile on it and he kisses me on the forehead.

"You really are perfect for me, you know that?", he says.

"Perfect, yeah right. Have you forgotten what just happened two minutes ago baby?", I laugh, giving him a look.

"Nope", he smiles shaking his head. "That babe, is a perfect example of exactly why I love you. You're always up for anything. You're carefree and able to laugh at yourself and are incredibly sexy, weather you believe me or not. And you always try to make the best out of a completely shit situation. Tonight was horrible all the way around, everything we set out to do tonight was a terrible disaster, but you know what? It doesn't matter because we spent it together and had a few good laughs.

I look into his eyes and smile. "Yeah, I guess your right", I say as he pulls me in for a hug.

"I'm still kinda hungry though", he says licking his lips. "What do you say we head towards home?"

"That sounds perfect, maybe we can grab a pizza or something", I reply as I start to climb back into my own seat. "Wanna get a movie too"? I ask him.

"Nah, I have a better idea babe", he says winking at me as he puts his seat belt back on and begins to pull back onto the road.

I blush a little as he reaches for my hand.

"I think we need to finish what you started", he says in a low voice, pushing my hand down onto his lap.

"You think your not sexy Y/N, but would someone who isn's sexy be able to make me this hard", he questions.

I brush my fingertips over his length and feel him pulse against my touch.

"I want you so badly, Y/N", he whispers, eyes fixed on the road. I need you. Now.

I bite my lip and begin to palm him through his tight black jeans, seeing his bulge straining against the restricting fabric.

"Mmmm, babe", he moans.

I smirk at him and start to unzip the fly of his jeans but he places his hand over mine to stop me.

"If you unzip me right now Y/N, we will most definitely not be making it home in one piece", he chuckles darkly.

"Yeah but Rafe,  we're still an hour away from home", I pout.

A sly smile spreads across his face. "I have an idea", he states as he pulls off the highway.

"What are you doing now", I say to him.

"Well, tonight kinda sucked, yeah? So why don't we try and save it", he says with a cheeky grin.

"What are you up to Cameron?", I question him again, laughing.

Just when I'm about to ask him for the third time what he's doing, he pulls up to a huge Victorian style hotel and parks the car.

"You're crazy", I tell him, putting the pieces together and grinning from ear to ear.

"Only about you", he says getting out of the car and jogging over to my side.

I roll my eyes at his cheesiness and let him pull me out of the car and onto my feet.

"We don't have any luggage Rafe", I protest realizing how this is gonna look.

"Babe, what we're gonna be doing requires no luggage", he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

I smile and shiver with anticipation and he pulls me closer to the doors of the hotel.

"What about dinner", I laugh as he reaches for the door handle.

He stops and leans towards me again.

"Suddenly I'm not so hungry Y/N", he breathes into my ear and opens the door. "Well, not for food anyway", he states and winks at me. "But we can get room service later."

I blush as he leaves me near the entrance way of the hotel with a dumbfounded look on my face as he goes up to the front desk and books us a room. I finally feel like our night is about to get better. I look over at my boyfriend and he waves for me to come over to him while the concierge tells him the total. As he pulls out his credit card to pay a condom falls out of his wallet and onto the floor and I can see the embarrassment and panic in his body language as his shoulders tense. He hands the concierge his credit card and she scans it through. I don't think the concierge noticed because she didn't miss a beat. Still standing by the doors, I  watch Rafe, trying not to laugh. He is fidgeting like crazy and keeps looking at the floor and then to me and settles with putting his shoe over it. I know I need to save him when a family comes up and stands in line behind him. I make my way over to him and pretend to drop my purse, picking it up with the the condom simultaneously and leaning into Rafe, resting my head on his shoulder as if nothing happened.

"Thank you", he mouthed to me.

"I think you dropped something baby", I smirk.

"Shit, could this night be anymore ridiculous", he whispers to me, embarrassment clear from his reddened cheeks.

The concierge grins at us while we banter with each other and right as I think she is going to give us our key-cards, she tells us to hold on a minute, and walks away. Rafe and I both look at her, shrug and say, "OK".

"That was weird", he whispers to me so she can't hear him.

"Yeah", I agree. "But it definitely goes with the rest of our night", I say chuckling.

He begins to laugh with me and puts his arm around my shoulder, sighing contently.

"Here we are", the concierge says to us in a sing-song voice.

She smiles at us as she hands us a set of key-cards and a folded up piece of paper.

"Ummm, thanks", Rafe says to her.

"You two have a wonderful night,", she chirps, winking at us.

As Rafe and I walk toward the elevator we both look at each other and laugh again.

"What the fuck was that Y/N?", he said to me.

"I have no idea", I said wiping my eyes. "What's on that paper she gave you with the key-cards?" I ask, still giggling, and reach for it.

"I dunno babe", he says handing it to me. "Read it?", he asks.

"You remind me of my husband and I many years ago- so young and so in love. Please accept this complimentary upgrade to the Honeymoon Suite. It's so refreshing to see such a sweet, carefree and loving couple. Plus- its on its own floor so you don't have to worry about noise! You two lovebirds have fun!"

"OhMyGosh!", I gasp and look at my boyfriend.

I can feel my cheeks begin to burn.

"Shit", he says looking at me, embarrassment taking over. "Fuck", he groans, his cheeks flaming. "She must have seen me drop the condom", he says in a hushed voice.

"This is the weirdest night, baby", I sigh shaking my head. "Should we accept it?", I ask him.

"I don't know", he answers honestly.

The elevator dings and the doors open. We both look at each other with puzzled looks.

"Where to", the attendant asks us.

I smile and shrug my shoulders, leaning into Rafe.

"The Honeymoon Suite", he says with a smile on his face.

"Yes, Sir", the attendant says, smiling at us.

When we arrive at the Honeymoon floor, he grabs my hand and we get out off the elevator and walk towards the large double doors at the end of the corridor.

"Are you sure about this Baby", I ask him softly.

"The way I see it Y/N, she wouldn't have offered it to us if she didn't want us to use it. And to decline such a sweet offer from such a nice old woman would just be rude", he answers with a  cocky smile spreading across his lips.

"I suppose your right", I say slowly. "We wouldn't want to be rude", I say smiling back at him.

"Definitely not", he says rubbing the top of my hand with his thumb.

"I think our night is about to turn around babe", he says bending down to kiss me slowly.

"Mmmhmm", I murmur as he continues to kiss me in the corridor.

He softly moves his hands up my body and tangles them into my hair, bending me back slightly and he begins to deepen this kiss and I have to force myself to break away from his intoxicating embrace.

"Let's go inside baby", I say breathlessly.

"Whatever you say Y/N", he says looking me up and down, licking his lips.

"Whatever you say", he repeats and smirks as he unlocks the door to the suite.

[blueroses789]

I wish I could be stronger

Warnings:

Mental health issues

Smut

Angst

Domestic violence 

next chapter: Reiss Apple Orchard 

Chapter 7/?

A confession: Chapter 7     

Notes: So I know I said that there would be a lot of angst, but I made some changes. There is still angst but not from the reader. This chapter is mainly from Eren and Mikasa’s point of view. The next chapter will be soon since this chapter is so short.  

A few minutes later you were both in Eren’s study. Not his room, his study. Apparently after Zeke moved out Grisha had decided that Eren could use Zeke’s old room for his engineering work. You two sat on the floor for a few minutes. Eren was leaning against a chair and you were only a few feet away. 

“I mean I still miss her sometimes.” Eren was looking up at the ceiling. Each word felt difficult to get out. You kept quiet, letting him continue. Eren then turned to you. 

“Which parent did you live with?” 

“My Dad.” 

“What about your mom?” 

“She left.” You sighed and looked outside. To this day it hurt. You remembered your mother walking out the door, despite your pleading and crying. Maybe it was the crying that made her leave. Maybe you weren’t a good enough daughter. A hand touched your shoulder and you jumped. 

“Y/n?” You turned to face Eren, only to realize that your eyes were wet. 

“Oh…sorry.” You quickly drew back. But Eren put an arm around your shoulder and pulled you towards him. It took you a few moments to realize he was hugging you. Carefully, you put an arm around him. 

Eren tightened his grip around you. You didn’t know it, but he felt awful for not being there the past six years. All that time you had been struggling and he hadn’t been there. When it was him that had been in trouble, you had been there. Because that was who you were, someone who always helped others. It was time that you received some care back.   

The next day Eren was looking around his room, horrified. When he got up, Eren had decided to try collecting each birthday present you had gotten him for the past six years. A snow globe of Shiganshina, a pair of sports sneakers, a headset, a jacket, tickets to a sports game, and in grade twelve she got him a best with a belt with a chain attached to it. And what had he gotten her? Nothing. An hour later Armin would come in to find Eren in the middle of a nervous breakdown on a spiny chair. 

“Eren? Are you okay?” Armin immediately rushed over to his friend and knelt down beside him. Eren looked him right in the eyes. 

“Am I a bad friend?” 

“What?” 

“Do you think that I’ve been a bad friend to Y/n?” Armin was surprised. What had brought about this sudden change of behavior? Armin thought back to the girl with e/c eyes and h/c hair. She hadn’t been around them as much these days. And Eren hadn’t brought her up in God knows how long. 

“Did something happen?” Eren took a deep breath and got off the chair before sitting on his bed. Armin joined him.

“I haven’t given her a birthday present in like, six years. And she has and now I feel like shit.” Eren buried her head in his hands.” Armin placed a hand on his back. 

“Well, maybe you can’t back up for the past six years but you can try to make things better. Why not hang out with her again? Or is that a bad idea since Mikasa might think you're cheating.” Eren looked at Armin, affronted. 

“I would never!” 

“I know, but Y/n used to like you. Mikasa might get the wrong idea.” 

“Nah, Mikasa likes Y/n.” 

At the same time, Mikasa was having her own conversation regarding Y/n. 

Y/n had been so stressed out over the upcoming exams that Mikasa decided not to hang out with her. That and Historia was starting to give her dirty looks every time she came in. So today she was hanging out with Jean. They sat by the window in her down watching the snow come down. Jean had his legs up on an empty chair, listening to Mikasa’s rambling. 

“I mean I just want to spend time with her. And Historia’s acting so hostile lately.” Mikasa sighed as she stirred her spoon around in the cup of coffee. 

“Has she said anything?” Jean asked. 

“No. It’s just the way she looks at me.” Mikasa then paused. She didn’t want to consider the idea. Historia always struck her as the loyal type. She and Ymir had been together for years now. But what if…… 

“You don’t think she still likes Y/n? And that's why she’s jealous?” Jean blurted out what Mikasa was thinking. 

“But I don't get it. You have Eren, and it’s not like you have a thing for Y/n.” Jean looked at Mikasa. He had expected her to agree with him. Instead he saw pink dust her pale cheeks as she looked away. 

“Oh shit.” Jean’s mouth hung open. Suddenly so many things made sense. Mikasa starting to avoid Eren. Mikasa hanging out with Y/n more often. Jean thought nothing of it. Mikasa hanging out with a girl was nothing suspicious in Jean’s eyes. But now that he thought about it, there was something odd. Every time they meet Mikasa would go on and on about Y/n, about how sweet she was, how smart, how caring. This was definitely odd behavior. It wasn’t that Mikasa never showed appreciation, but she was never so ….open about it. Jean wasn’t sure to continue. Mikasa finally took a deep breath. 

Jean….. I think I want to break up with Eren. 

The first memory Mikasa had of Y/n was when she handed her blue flowers. Eren had shouted at her again and Mikasa had sat alone in the corner Tears had been threatening to spill out when Y/n had walked towards her. To this day Mikasa had the same flowers pressed into a book. Every time Mikasa was feeling lonely or unappreciated, Y/n was there. It gave Mikasa a warm feeling. All her life she had been protecting others, mainly Eren and Armin. But Y/n always protected her, even if it was in her own way.  

Tag list:  

@jaegersdiary​

@didiyogo​    

@jeagersruletheworld​

@maya3km  

@casinorose

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #5: Pretty Please? -  Hawks

In which you and Keigo coin a few new petnames for one another.

Characters: Takami Keigo (Hawks) / f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!), daddy kink, dom!Hawks, vaginal sex, a touch of begging, inappropriate use of gen Z social media apps

Notes: This man is getting dangerously close to the top of my simp list. It’s really becoming an issue. Today’s prompt is ‘Daddy Kink.’ Also, I didn’t come up with ‘kid’ as a nickname that Hawks uses... if u know, u know

Kinktober Masterlist

“How long have you been here?”

Keigo’s voice echoes in the hallway of his little apartment soon after you hear the jingle of his keys in the lock. While it certainly isn’t your first time coming to his place without him, you’re still not quite used to the appearance of that silvery little key dangling from your key ring.

Nor are you used to hanging around the place by yourself. You spent the morning in a coffee shop around the corner, working away- popping by the agency to see Keigo over lunch. He’d told you to come back here if you needed somewhere quiet to work- bonus points, since you’d be here waiting when he got home.

“Came straight after lunch,” you call absently. Your eyes are glued to the screen as you finish your thought, typing out your last email of the day. As soon as you hit send you snap the laptop shut, pushing it gently across the kitchen counter while climbing out of your chair.

“Hi,” you purr, catching up to him in the hallway. You grab his hand and he pauses, leaning in to peck your lips. When he pulls back, he’s got a lazy smirk drawn across his mouth.

“How you been, kid? Sure feels good comin’ home to you at the end of the day.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you tease, pushing your shoulder against his. You lean down and nuzzle his jaw, letting your cheek scrape against his scruff. “I’m a strong, independent woman.”

“Which is exactly why I love you,” he replies. He grabs your chin and pulls your mouth back to his, catching it in a kiss that would have surprised you with its tenderness, if you didn’t know him so well.

When you first met, he played the Cheshire Cat role eagerly. Smirking at you, pulling lines on you, making you think he was the laid-back hero that everybody knew him as. But the more time you spend with him, the more he opens up. The more he lets himself be vulnerable to you. And you him. You’d never meant to let him in so easily, but…

Here you are.

You flop down on the couch together, Keigo leaning against one arm while you keep your head cradled in his lap. He’s happy to fold his wings over the back of the couch and absently stroke your hair while you catch up a little. It’s only been a few hours since you’ve last seen one another, so you settle quickly into comfortable silence.

That’s when you open your phone, idly opening Tik Tok and starting to scroll. Every so often you come across a video related to Hawks. He’s got a lot of fans out there- and a lot of fangirls, too. You don’t mind, though. Sometimes they get a little too personal, however, and you like to scroll.

This time around, you don’t scroll fast enough.

You don’t catch the whole video, but it’s a clip of Keigo that somebody took on their phone. Suddenly, the audio cuts out and it’s interrupted by the sound of a female voice, moaning more obscenely than you could ever hope to.

“Daddy,” it mewls, and you scroll so fast the phone almost topples out of your fingers.

Frozen, you pull your eyes carefully up to meet the gaze of your boyfriend. He definitely heard. And while he knows that Tik Tok can pull up some random videos at times, you can see the flush spreading across his cheeks.

He shifts a little underneath you, hand paused on top of your head. He clears his throat.

“What was that?”

You consider your next words carefully.

“…A video.”

He swallows hard and licks his lips.

“What kind of video?”

Suddenly, it hits you. You have the reins. You realize exactly what’s going through his head. And the next time you look up at him, it’s with a wicked smirk stretching your lips.

“Why do you want to know?” You ask, and your voice has taken on the low sort of drawl that makes him shift again underneath you. “Don’t tell me you like the sound of that… Daddy.”

You feel the barest vibration in his chest as a tiny groan escapes him. He doesn’t move, but you can see the way his wings bristle, the joints stiffening a little as his feathers spread. Your stomach jolts excitedly.

“Don’t call me that,” he grunts, but you know he doesn’t mean it.

The two of you are far from vanilla most nights. You’re definitely up for a little experimentation. And pet names flow between you like water. But this feels… different. This feels controversial.

Oh, fuck. You’re into it, too.

“You do.” You scramble into a sitting position, swinging one knee over his thighs. He looks up at you with a pair of lidded tawny eyes, his jaw drawn slack in an expression that spells sheer arousal to you. You know that face well, and it makes your body ache.

“Do you want me to call you Daddy from now on?” You’re not letting up, and as you lean forward, his hands find your hips. They squeeze. Hard. His wings fan a gentle breeze over your face, and you love the way his breath hitches in your ear.

“Fuck, stop,” he groans. It’s more desperate this time, and as his hips keen against yours you can tell just how hard this is hitting him. He’s half-hard already, straining against the thick denim between you.

“Maybe now’s the time to tell you,” you whisper, “how bad I’ve wanted you all day, Daddy. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all afternoon. I even thought about ducking into your room before-”

That breaks him, and he snatches your hips and stands abruptly. He’s strong enough to carry you easily, and he lifts your thighs securely around his hips before beelining for the bedroom.

When you get there, instead of being spread on your back like the pillow princess he’ll normally let you pretend to be, he pushes you face-down into the pillows, letting your hips hang off the edge of his wide bed. He bends close, his chest brushing the column of your spine as his jaw brushes your ear.

“You brought this on yourself, kid,” he gruffs. He’s already working your sweater up your back. You lift your torso enough for him to wedge it off of you, but he doesn’t wait for you to do the same before he’s peeling your leggings down your thighs and taking your thong with it. The second your ass is bare he brings his palm down across it with a resounding snap.

“Kei-” you start to gasp, but he quickly silences you with another spank that draws a yelp from your throat.

“You started this,” he grunts, “you’re gonna finish it. What’s that you were gonna call me?”

You suck in a shaky breath and let your eyes flutter shut. You deserve this. You want it. All you have to do is take the plunge. The rest will follow. That breath you drew before gets held for a moment. And then you jump.

“Daddy,” you whimper, throwing an extra edge of desperation into it, “don’t tease me.”

“Shit, kid,” he grunts. His belt jingles as he gets his pants undone, and you hear them hit the floor. A breeze from his wings and another pile of fabric hitting the carpet determines that he’s naked now. He’s left your leggings partially on, though, keeping your legs pressed tightly together at the knees.

He knows what he’s doing.

When he steps up behind you again it’s with the warm presence of his bare skin on yours, and you feel the brush of his hand against the back of your thigh, gentle and rhythmic. He’s stroking his cock and you want more than anything to turn your head and sneak a peek, but you know that doesn’t fit into the game you’re playing.

“You ready for me, sweetness?”

He slips a hand between your legs, drawing his thumb along your slit and making you shiver. You could use a little more time, but you’re wet already. He drags his slick thumb down to the swell of your clit and circles it. The tender nerves are already pinched between your thighs, and the sensation is enough to make your hips buck harshly back against him.

Your ass connects with his thighs and he steps back a little, chuckling as he lays one hand in the small of your back to steady you.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you wanted something,” he drawls, continuing to circle your clit with that lazy thumb. It’s making your toes curl against the wood floor as stars explode behind your eyelids.

He leans in close. “Why don’t you tell me what it is?”

“You know what it is,” you choke, because it won’t be any fun at all if you fold right away.

“I know,” he quips, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “I just wanna hear you say it.” He draws his thumb across your clit in a sudden swipe, making your whole body jump. You squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you plead, and he chuckles so low and feral it sends vibrations up your spine. He shifts forward again, hand still pushing you into the mattress. His thumb leaves your clit, but it’s soon replaced by the head of his cock, pressing flush against your slick pussy. You can feel it now that he’s touching you- you’re soaked.

“Now how am I s’posed to say no, baby, when you ask so- ah- nicely?”

His voice breaks as he pushes in, and your whine comes in sync with it. You’re always amazed at how perfectly the two of you seem to fit together. There’s a stretch, but no pain. There’s never been pain. And on top of that, the thirsty Twitter accounts are right.

Your man knows how to fuck.

He bottoms out inside you, sliding a palm to your ass, and lets out a breathy groan. But he’s grinning. You can tell. It’s been a long day for both of you.

For a man who talks so much during foreplay he’s relatively quiet- or, wordless, at least. There’s nothing quiet about the way he grunts as he draws himself back and pumps slowly into you again. He’s testing the waters, but with your thighs pressed together the way they are you’re even tighter than usual.

“Not gonna last long,” he warns headily, and that’s the last thing you hear before he starts to fuck you properly and all your senses go haywire.

When you swim back to the surface, the only sounds in the room are your mingled, laboured breathing, and the rhythmic slap slap slap of his thighs against your ass. There’s something about the angle he’s taking you from- he’s hitting you just right, and you squirm in front of him with a desperate mewl.

“Daddy,” you whine, taking the game and running with it, “daddy, please, I wanna cum.”

“Don’t you worry, sweetness,” he growls behind you, breathless and feral. “Daddy’s not gonna leave you hangin’.”

It sounds different coming out of his mouth. The appeal was already there- anything that turns him on turns you on, too, almost as a direct result. But when you hear it coming from him, it flips your stomach in a way that you could get used to.

He slides an arm beneath your waist and hauls you off the bed, pulling you back against his chest as he continues to fuck up into you. His right hand dances down your hip and between your legs, finding the swollen nub of your clit. He strums it deftly, making you squeal.

“Yeah,” you whimper, letting your head fall back against his shoulder as he holds you close. “Fuck, I’m getting there.”

“Me too, kid,” he pants into your ear. “So damned tight. Fuck, you’re suckin’ the life outta me.”

In another half-dozen thrusts you’re dangling precariously on the edge. He’s still going, hitting you just right and pushing you there one inch at a time. Suddenly he re-centers his grip on you and comes back with renewed ferocity. His rhythm doubles.

You fall.

Your orgasm is particularly spectacular this time around. Your spine goes concave as your legs go fluid. You reach back and grab at his hips as you keen and twitch and rock through the pleasure. Your pussy convulses around his cock and his hips stutter. He grabs you hard, holding you up as he explodes, warm and liquid inside you.

When it’s over, you both collapse onto the mattress. Outside, the sun is painting brilliant streaks of apricot across the sky. A gentle autumn breeze flutters the curtains. You finally catch your breath.

“So,” you sigh, turning your head where it’s cradled on his chest. His body is beautiful, and now that you’ve finally got the chance to look you don’t take it for granted. He’s all long lines and clean muscle, dusted over with tawny hair and the last kisses of the summer sun.

He’s kissing your shoulder as you speak up, one scarlet wing folded neatly at his shoulder, the other fanned out across the bed.

“It’s gonna be Daddy, then, is it?”

He snorts, smirking against your skin.

“Sure didn’t sound like you had a problem with it two minutes ago.”

“I don’t,” you quip, tracing a finger down his sternum. “I liked it. I…” You trail off, and your ears warm. “I liked it.”

He pulls back from your shoulder and rests his head against the pillow beneath him, his eyes casting over your face. Warm and loving and heartbreakingly genuine despite the… sensitive nature of your conversation.

“So did I,” he purrs, and you fall silent for another few minutes. Decompressing. Basking, he’ll say later on. Inevitably, the needs of the evening step in, and as the last rays of light fade from the city you lift your head.

“Dinner?”

His eyes were closed, but they slide slowly open again at the sound of your voice. In the dim like this, they’re the colour of almonds, always soft when they’re looking you over. You fall a little more in love with him every time he looks at you like that.

Then he shoots you a near-boyish crooked grin and your heart warms all over again.

“Whatever you want, kid.”

[ramp-it-up]

Communication

Pairing: Lin Manuel Miranda x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Minors DNI, Dom Lin, light bondage, explicit laguage, edging, oral sex (female receiving), love fluff, marriage. All errors my own.

A/N: This an ask from the 100 smut prompts ask list by @sebastianabucknettastan (pic credit as well) AND the following birthday request from @sillyteecup

Love You Tee! I hope it’s filthy enough and that you have a great day! ❤️

Lin was talking to a reporter when he saw you enter the venue.

He was instantly pissed the fuck off, but used his acting skills to play it off.  

There were so many things you needed to answer for.

First, you wore the dress he specifically told you not to wear. 

The gold one that set off your skin tone and that that fit perfectly before the baby, but after, with your slightly larger thighs, hips and breasts, fit like a glove.

A skin tight glove.

Next, you put your hair up, showing off your neck and your cleavage, which was pushed up by the special fuck me bra that you had on. The one you only wore for him at home.  

Then, you wore your 6-inch gold Jimmy Choos with the stiletto heels.  The ones that you only wore for him at home.

That is, after your fuck me bra had been thrown across the room.

What was worse was that he didn’t know any of this before he left the house because you were taking so long to get dressed that he had to leave without you.

When you joined him, you met his cold, hard glare before the acting took over and his face broke out in a smile.

Oh.  Lin was pissed, but he couldn’t let it show. He was the man of the hour. 

For the next 30 minutes, you two were gracious recipients of the most mundane conversation of everyone who wanted to talk to him.  

And you were especially charming, touching every man’s arm, and managing to play with every woman’s hair and smiling at all with that alluring grin that made them all practically drool into your cleavage.

As the night wore on, his smile slipped more and more.  Although you were at his side, which he made sure of, he couldn’t get close enough to say anything to you, which you made sure of.

He knew what this was about.  Lin had informed you that his next gig was halfway around the world and that you would either have to accompany him, or stay in New York while he had fun creating shit while you took care of your son. A single parent yet again.

Shit was getting old.  

Lin didn’t want to leave you, he wanted you to come with and he couldn’t understand your resistance, especially since your job was easily mobile and you had the means to go.  

But he was especially frustrated that you wouldn’t talk about it, you were just torturing him with this display of your sexy allure that he wanted to be just for him.  

Each time you gave someone else the benefit of your attention, yet pulled away from him, he got more and more determined to demonstrate the importance of effective communication to you.

When you were finally seated at the head table, Lin whispered as he drew closer to you. 

To everyone who was watching, and there were a lot of people watching, it looked like normal couple interaction. 

But in reality, it was a threat. 

"You keep acting like a little brat and I’ll take you over my knee right here. I don’t care how many people are watching.”

You finally turned the full wattage of your smile on him.  His heart stopped and he wanted to crawl under the table and lick from the soles of your feet up to your pussy.  

Damn, his wife was beautiful.

“Sir.” 

You said it to piss him off, not project submissiveness, but you could tell by his smirk what he wanted that word to mean. Well, fuck him.

“I’m not acting like a brat, I’m acting like the wife of a Very Important Man at a Very Important Event.”  

You leaned toward him and he was drawn to you, but still pissed.

“If you don’t settle down, I’ll make you.”

You turned and looked him fully in the eye.  

“I’m not scared of you. What are you gonna do? Write the fuck out of a story about me?”

The raised eyebrow and disrespect was the final straw. The emcee was about to introduce him.

Lin leaned even closer.

“I got something better than a spanking. When we get home, I’m cuffing you to the bed and I’m going down on you all night until my jaw is sore.  And if you straighten up now, I might let you cum.”

Your mouth dropped open as the emcee finished introducing him and Lin rose and went to the podium.

You recovered quickly and looked around to see if anyone noticed and then put on your neutral face.

————-

After his speech, it was like nothing happened. And you miraculously found some act right.  

For the remainder of the night, Lin was charming to everyone, even you.  

You even danced and he held you close, caressing your side and seamlessly catching your rhythm.

It was like you dreamed what he’d said, because he even kissed your hand before he led you to the car, and you even leaned your head on his shoulder and fell asleep on the way home. 

It turned out to be a pretty nice night.

You got home and paid the babysitter and ordered her an Uber. Lin watched her get in the car while you went to check on the baby.  

He was so freakin cute and you stayed to watch him sleep a bit, never getting enough of his big fat cheeks.

When you went into the bedroom, Lin was nowhere to be found, coming out of the walk-in closet as you closed the door.

“Hey, come here.”  

His smile was his signature mix of angelic and devilish, and you were sure of what he wanted.  

You were glad he seemed to forget the earlier difficulty and you glady went toward him.  

Maybe you would give him some tonight and you could talk about the issue in the morning.

Lin put his hands on your shoulders.

“You look. Incredible tonight.”  His hands moved down your arms and moved to clasp your fingers.

"You want me to make you come?"

"Yes." You started unbuckling his belt. 

Lin pulled away from you. His eyes glinted, hard and cold.

"You want it?" He moved to sit on the bed.  He patted the duvet beside him. “Come.”

You came and sat beside him, anticipation making you shiver. Lin leaned over to you, his lips oh so close, and watched as you closed your eyes. 

He gave you a quick kiss on your lips and pulled you onto the bed with him.

His mouth laid ravage to yours and just as your senses went wild, he moved to pull your dress up. He stopped and smiled.  

You were only wearing the fuck me bra and no panties.

“You do wanna get fucked I see. How convenient.”

You just smiled back at him and clenched your thighs together. 

Him still being in his tux making you very wet.

Lin’s dark beauty was making you weak.

Lin continued to pull your dress over your arms, and you raised them to make it easier.  But somehow, the dress stopped over your eyes. 

You smiled before you panicked, thinking Lin was playing some cute little game.

You panicked when you realized the game wasn’t cute.

You realized the game wasn’t cute when you felt the cuffs go around your wrists and onto the bars of the bed.

“Lin?” 

You could only see his outline moving around as you struggled and tested the cuffs.

“This isn’t funny Lin!”  You were panicking.

“No. It’s not. But I told you what was going to happen.”

“What?”

Lin took your legs and spread them apart, you pulled them back together.  He slapped your thigh and pulled them apart again.

“Leave them open or I’ll get the spreader bar.”

Lin watched your lip tremble as kept your legs open, while also watching your slick drip down your folds. 

He smiled and leaned over, mouth near your ear.

“I’m going to keep my promise.”  You visibly trembled.  

“Do you want to watch, or not?  Your choice.”  

Lin’s hands were on your thighs now, slowly, too slowly moving up toward your apex. He stopped, thumbs about two inches away from your slit, and asked again.

“Well?”

You whimpered, wanting some kind of contact. Something to give you relief.

“I wanna see you Baby.  I wanna see you make me cum.”

You were trying it, and Lin shifted, lifting your dress and propping your head up with it as he shook his head at you.

“IF I make you cum.”

Lin returned to the exact position he was in, with this thumbs exactly two inches away from where you needed them to be.

“I need your words.  What’s your greenlight word?” 

Lin moved his hands a quarter of an inch closer and you tried not to move.  

“Banquo.” 

“Good girl. What about when you need to stop?”

You were getting anxious.  Safe word play was intense.

“Macduff.”

“Good girl. Where are we at now?” 

Lin was sliding his thumbs closer to your dripping heat. He was right there and you practically screeched, “Banquo, Banquo.”

“Gooooood girl.”  

Lin finished sliding both thumbs into you, circling and sliding them up and down your slit, bumping and teasing your clit, making you jump and whimper every time.  

He separated his hands and put one thumb on your puckered hole and one thumb in your pussy, rotating them, fucking one hole and teasing the other.

“After I eat you out, I should take your ass. Make you squirt all over the bed. But that would involve you cuming.  And I don’t know….”

“Fuckkkkk, Lin! I want you to feel how wet I am for you. C’mon. Please?”

“Keep begging.”

Your pussy fluttered around his hands and he slowly withdrew them, trailing your wetness down your thighs. 

He was edging you like you had all night. 

And he did. 

He sat back and watched you squirm, a soft smile on his lips.  He took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. He stared between your legs as he rolled up his sleeves. 

His fucking forearms were driving you crazy. Shit, you should not have been such a bitch.

“Damn, I would take a picture, but I have a specific purpose tonight. And I already have several in my collection.”

Lin was obsessed with your pussy. Absolutely obsessed.  It was his precious.  

He leaned in, his dark head obstructing your view as he oh so slowly licked a long stripe from your ass to your clit. You craned your neck to see him go to work.

“Unnnnnnnhhhhh.”  

You tried to capture his tongue with some kind of impossible pussy trick, but Lin held you fast to the bed.

He chuckled into your folds, and shook his head.  

“You’re hilarious.”  

Then, he opened his mouth wide and stuck his talented tongue as far in your pussy that it could go, his top lip capturing your clit.  

He reached up and grabbed your heaving breasts, squeezing them and rolling your perky erect nipples.

Lin was chowing down.  He fucked you with his tongue until you were about to come again, but stopped.  You groaned, and Lin was glad he’d soundproofed your bedroom.

“Lin. I’m sorry.  Let me cum, please. Please? This pussy is yours. See how you got me? Please. I don't care what you do to me. I want you to make me feel good. Only you can Lin."

He loved your begging and pleading.  He put his face in your place again, this time sucking and manipulating your clit until your legs started shaking violently. 

Your curses and moans only make him lick you faster.

Lin pushed your legs back apart and inserted a  finger inside you, expertly curling it, inexplicably telling you to come hither from inside your vaigna.

“NOW you want to communicate? Should have thought of that earlier.”

"Lin, its...." you breathed.

"Tell me."

Lin ordered, as he stopped what he was doing and wiped his face.

You were panting now,devastated by the loss of your orgasm, and coherent thought completely gone from your mind.

Lin reached out and rubbed your clit again. He leaned over and drew it between his lips, sucking it and making you see stars this time. 

All of a sudden, he stopped sucking and gently, very gently, slapped it. Then, he inserted two fingers from behind while he slapped your clit. It was very intense.

You yelped loudly and had to open your mouth in order to breathe. Your heart was beating so fast.

"Fuck! This pussy is so pretty.”

He started alternately lightly slapping and licking your clit this time. And he stopped every so often to let you come back from the brink. 

Each time he would stop, you would moan louder and louder. The first time he stopped his shirt came off, the third, his pants.

"Lin! I'm going crazy!" 

"But you taste and feel and look so fucking good. I don't know if I ever want to leave where I am right now." 

Lin had stopped and started stroking himself.

“Except…”

You watched him stroke and had to close your eyes. 

Lin shifted and started stroking his tip at your entrance. You were panting so hard you could hardly breathe.

You wiggled your hips and Lin stopped all movement, causing you to whine and pull on the cuffs, causing your breasts to jiggle.

He leaned over, pulled your breasts from the cups of the lace cups, and captured one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your nipple then biting down on it.

You were so overstimulated that this new sensation almost sent you over the edge. Yet again.

You were losing hope of getting satisfaction and started keening. 

“Lin! Pleaseeee!”

This time the desperation in your voice triggered mercy. 

And the way you were coming apart for him triggered his lust.

He continued to suck both nipples brutally until you were arching off the bed, and when he slapped your clit again, plunging two fingers inside you that curled to your spot, you came, hard, squirting all over him and the bed.

“Yes, give me all you got. Such a good girl.”

You trembled as he slid inside, and your body came alive again as he slipped in and out of you. 

You could feel every ridge and vein on his huge, hard cock as he lit you up from the inside out. 

You gripped him so good, despite the wetness, that he had to concentrate.

Lin moaned and kissed your pulse point as he felt your walls clench around him.

“So fucking good…so tight and wet… fuck.”

You struggled to catch your breath and Lin leaned up to lift up your ass, pulling your pelvis up to meet him on his knees.

“You feel so good. Make me want to come so bad baby. Take this dick.”

He stroked and stroked until he felt you quivering again.

“Do you like how that feels? Do you like how I’m fucking you?”

“FUCK! Yes Lin. Oh fuck yes. I love it. I want it all.”

“Pussy. Feels… so fucking… goooood.”

His thumb found your clit again. The pleasure built up in your body, your eyes rolled back into your head, and it was game over.

Lin came as you screamed and milked his cock dry. 

It was perfect.

Next thing you knew, Lin was unlocking the cuffs, sitting you up and massaging your shoulders. He led you into the bathroom where the whirlpool tub was halfway full.

You hadn’t realized that you were out for a few minutes.

Lin put your hair up while the tub kept filling.

You climbed into the tub, and Lin climbed in behind you, gathering you in his arms.

You relaxed as he took care of you, his hands soothing your exhausted body.

You floated off to sleep in the warm water surrounded by Lin, the brat in you tamed. 

For the moment.

——

Tagging: @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @ivycomet @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @ohsoverykeri @curtainremote @delaber @honeysucklechocolatedrippin

[downondilaudid]

Taboo Nightmare

Reader has an amazing one night stand with a stranger from a bar, only to regret her decision days later when she walks into class and realizes he’s her new professor. 

LOOK AT ME, FINALLY posting. I am finally motivated.

Requested: No

Prompts: None

Word Count: 6.1K

Warnings: BASICALLY JUST SMUT, Penetrative Sex, Fingering, Degradation, Light Humiliation, Light Impact Play.

“Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences.”

― Emery Allen 

Your body felt warm with the alcohol coursing through your system. The bright club lights shimmered on your black sequin bodycon dress. The euphoria you were experiencing almost felt superficial, it was addicting. 

Sweaty bodies mangled on the dance floor, you being one of them, grinding your hips against one of your close friends. To say you had dragged her to the club would be an understatement, she had practically kicked and screamed the whole way here. But now here you were, both relaxed and having the time of your lives. 

From across the club, your eyes met with a man’s, his figure tall and dressed in a fitted blazer. He definitely didn’t look like he should be at a club. His features were almost unrecognizable in the low light, but his gaze was strong, strong enough to force you to look away. You turned to your friend, “I’m going to get another drink.” She nodded in understanding.

At first, you actually were headed to get a drink, standing near the bar, waiting to flag down the bartender, who seemed to be frantically running around to collect orders and mix drinks. The club was definitely understaffed tonight. 

A presence could be felt beside you, and a flicker of hope rooted in the pit of your stomach, maybe you wouldn’t be going home alone tonight. You turned your head slightly, peering over at the man, and apparently, he had the same idea. You cleared your throat, wishing you could’ve guzzled more alcohol before the encounter. Too late now, “This doesn’t look like your scene” you pointed out, your voice raised to overpower the music. 

The light hit his face, and all the breath in your body vanished, everything about him was perfect. You tried to memorize the way he looked before the light left his face. “It’s not” he responded, his voice was smooth yet punctuated. Just by the way he held himself you could tell he was an intelligent individual. 

You couldn’t help the girlish giggle his words drew out of you, “then what are you doing here? If you don’t mind me asking…”

“I’m here with a friend.” He answered, before saying another sentence. Unfortunately for him, it was drowned out by the music, fortunately for you, it gave you the perfect opportunity to get him alone. 

Your friend was long forgotten as soon as the words left your mouth, “It’s really hard to hear in here, do you want to step outside?” You threw your thumb over your shoulder, pointing to the door in case he couldn’t hear you. 

He retreated a bit, almost surprised at your bold question. For a moment you thought you had made a mistake, only for his head to nod as he brushed past you, making his way to the exit. Quickly you followed after him, the sudden change in his mood making your head spin. Yet, you were still determined to regain the higher ground, you were the predator, he was the prey, even if he didn’t know it.

The cool night air brought you back to earth, your feet halting just in time to keep yourself from running right into the man’s back. At that point, you realized you still didn’t know his name, and here you were, outside, practically alone with him, despite the few wandering pedestrians.

He turned back around to face you, his face visible now, and dear god was it a sight. His eyes were a deep hazel, and you were sure every woman on the planet was envious of his perfectly plump pink lips. He was definitely older than you, probably by quite a few years, but that never bothered you “Spencer.”

Confusion dawned your face, your eyes widening with realization, that was his name. “Y/N” you introduced, right now the two of you were neutral, but you craved the higher ground. You wanted your name to tumble from his lips, and his large hands to wrap in your hair. His eyes scanned your body slowly, lingering on your exposed legs.

You raised your fingers, snapping to get his attention, “my eyes are up here” you teased. Spencer’s head snapped up to meet your eyes, a flustered look on his face. The sound of your laughter filled the cool night air, “it’s okay, I don't mind you staring at me.” You took a step closer to him, watching as his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. “I’ve been staring at you all night.” He didn’t retreat from you, and you took it as a sign to let your hands run lightly up his chest. A burning desire ignited in your stomach as he flinched at your touch.

“A-are you sure about this? You’re a lot younger than me.” He stumbled over his words, his body subconsciously leaning into your touch.

“I like my men older.” Your hands drifted south, fingertips dipping into the hem of his slacks. Spencer’s hands shot out, wrapping around your wrists, yanking them away from his body. With a quick tug, he had you pulled flush against him, his warm breath fanning over your ear.

With every slightly ragged breath he took, his chest rubbed against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, this was the exact reason you always went for older men. Guys your age were so boring, and inexperienced. But, this man would take his time with you, he would let his primal urges take over, he would absolutely break you. And that’s exactly what you wanted, and you knew every card to play to get what you wanted.

“You think you’re so cute? Acting like you’re the one in charge? I’m not even sure you could handle me.” Every perfectly punctuated syllable he spoke sent shockwaves to your core.

An inhale of the cold night air stuck in your throat, a sharp contrast to the warm body pressed up against you. “Funny” you began, yanking your wrists free from his grip, “I think you’re the one that can’t handle me.” It was exhilarating to see Spencer’s eyes darken with desire, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. His hands found a vice grip on your arms, pulling you from your dazed state. Whether it was the alcohol or lust that was clouding your mind, you didn’t know.

“I’m giving you one last chance to turn around, and pretend like this never happened.” If you weren’t so ready for this man to fuck you, you would say his statement was almost thoughtful. But, that was not you, some strange fate had brought the two of you together, and who would you be to pass up an opportunity like that?

There was no stopping the smile that wormed its way onto your face. You steadied yourself by latching your hands onto his forearms, now happy that you had worn heels. Your eyes locked on his, greedily enjoying the sight of his perfectly sculpted face as you spoke “not a chance in hell.” Just like that you were being roughly pulled to the parking lot of the club, and into the car of a stranger. You were very much aware that this man could be a serial killer for all you know, but who doesn’t make stupid decisions in college? The answer is girls without daddy issues.

The car ride was short, almost as if you had teleported to your destination. Which you assumed was Spencer’s apartment. His large hand had remained on your exposed thigh throughout the whole ride, his thumb rubbing teasing circles.

The second Spencer flicked on the light, and you closed the dark mahogany door, he was on you like a feral animal. His hands danced viciously up and down the curves of your body, his mouth moving in sync with yours. Your hands met his shoulder, fervently working to tear off his blazer. With every passing second, the heat coursing through your body became too much to bear. You just wanted to feel his smooth, warm skin against yours.

Air-filled your lungs as soon as you pulled away, the both of you panting for breath. His hands retreated from your body, beginning to unbutton his dress shirt. Taking the initiative, you reached for the zipper on the side of the dress, pulling it down slowly.

Spencer’s dark eyes scanned you like a hawk, seemingly memorizing your every move. The shimmering dress slipped from your shoulders, gliding over your hips with, surprisingly, little resistance. You could feel your nipples harden as the cool air kissed your skin, as the dress hadn’t required you to wear a bra. The fabric pooled at your feet, discarded as you stepped out of the circle of fabric.

A low grumble emitted from Spencer’s throat, he was clearly enjoying the show you were putting on for him. “See something you like?” You questioned, your voice seductively sweet.

“Definitely” he replied, his voice low and trickled with lust.

The two of you shared the same idea as you simultaneously took a step forward, closing the space. His mouth met yours in a frenzied kiss, the proximity causing your breasts to rub softly against his chest. Spencer trailed sloppy kisses down your neck, sucking softly here and there. A content sigh left your mouth, and your hands trailed up to tug on the hair at the nape of his neck.

Each kiss placed to your neck hit you straight in your core. It was times like these where you felt lucky to have daddy issues.

Spencer pulled back, his hands leaving your body to work on unbuckling his belt. You looked up, your eyes meeting his as he finished unbuckling the belt.

A smirk tugged at the corners of your lips, so far, Spencer’s actions hadn’t matched his words. Nothing he had done was rough or teasing. Luckily, you knew exactly how to push him. “You know, you’re all bark and no bite.” You pulled the belt from his pants, letting it clatter to the floor.

His arms crossed defensively over his chest, perfectly accentuating his biceps. “Really, you think so?” His head tilted slightly, eyes narrowed as if mocking you.

Here we go. “Mhm,” you hummed. You spun on your heel, leaning down to pick up your discarded dress. “If you’re not going to fuck me like you said you would, I’m going to leave. You’re just wasting my time.”

You rose back up just in time to see Spencer rush forward, his hands meeting your shoulders. With a shove your back hit the wall, a huff escaping your lips from the impact. Before you could blink his large hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing lightly on the sides. His grip allowed him to angle your head up, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

His hair fell in his face, just above his eyebrows. Even with the yellow lighting of his apartment, he looked gorgeous. “You want to know what I think?” He paused, his other hand leaving your shoulder to run his thumb over your bottom lip. “I think…” he paused again, shoving his thumb into your mouth.

Now we’re talking, this is exactly what you had wanted. Your lips wrapped around his thumb, your tongue swirling around it. “I think you’re a young naive girl, with unresolved daddy issues, who’s desperate for attention from any male she can pull.”

His words should’ve made you run for the hills. You should’ve grabbed your dress and left. But he was right, his words didn’t hurt, in fact, they had the opposite effect. Arousal flooded your core as you rubbed your thighs together to relieve some tension.

“Enlighten me, am I right?” He pulled his thumb from your mouth, wiping the excess spit on your chin. You nodded, you felt like you were addicted to his every move, every intake of breath. His hand around your neck tightened, shocking you back to reality. “Am I right?” He growled, his voice slightly more punctuated than usual.

“Yes, yes, you’re right.” your voice cracked as his hand that was in your mouth began a slow trail down your stomach, running along the hem of your panties. Spencer leaned forward, his mouth resting next to your ear. “How desperate are you?” He whispered, drawing a light whine from your lips.

Your hand wrapped tightly around his wrist, trying to pull his hand to your core. “Please,” his hand dipped into the waistband of your underwear, fingertips trailing lightly over your folds.

The hand around your neck loosened its grip, allowing more air to flow into your lungs. Still, you felt suffocated, the pure lust clouding your mind and body. “Not so confident now, hm?”

Usually, this is the time where you would push back and take control, and show them you’re more than a pretty face. But that's not what Spencer was looking for, he wanted to watch you beg for him. So you would play nice, and give him that, as long as he gave you what you wanted.

You bit down on your bottom lip, shaking your head coyly. Spencer mimicked your action, his teeth dragging along his bottom lip. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yes! Just fu-” you huffed, restraining yourself from acting out. “Just do something, please?” It was a well-balanced mixture between begging and demanding. You were obviously desperate, but you pleaded politely.

As if your pleading wasn’t enough already, you allowed your lips to pull into a pout, your eyes rounder than usual as you stared up at Spencer. “Since you asked so nicely” he replied, his fingers finally finding solace at your core, rubbing slow circles against your bundle of nerves.

Every moment of buildup was absolutely worth it as his fingers played you like a fiddle. Your mouth fell open, a low moan escaping your lips. “Spencer, fuck!”

“Look at you,” Spencer spat, his fingers moving down to your entrance. “Making a mess all over my hand.” Two of his long fingers entered you, crooking slightly. Your hand fell from his wrist, nails coming up to scratch back down his chest.

“Harder, fuck!” This is exactly what you wanted, his hands on your body, in your body, ravishing you. He obliged your request, the obscene sound of skin smacking against skin filling the room. Porn-worthy moans left your lips as his fingers curled more, rubbing perfectly against your dimpled patch of skin.

Your back arched off the wall, and your chest heaved with pants. If you wanted to keep your submissive control you would have to control yourself. It was hard to do with Spencer’s perfect fingers buried in your cunt, his other hand wrapped tightly around your neck, varying in pressure.

You lapped up every ounce of pleasure Spencer gave you. The feeling was addicting, your head clouded and free of external worries, as your eyes fluttered shut, lost in bliss. Your hips ground onto his hand as your orgasm approached.

The hand dancing on your windpipe retreated, quickly grabbing onto the sides of your face, forcing your lips into a pout. Your eyes snapped open, met with Spencer’s dark ones. “Look at me while you cum” his fingers worked faster, his wrist angling with every thrust so his palm would rub deliciously against your clit. “A man you just met, who you blindly followed into a car. How ignorant can you be? I guess it makes sense, you’re just another whore desperate for the validation of a man.”

His taunting words sent you barreling into your orgasm, screaming out his name over and over again. Your thighs clamped onto his hand, entrapping it between your legs. Spencer’s hand released your face, allowing your head to fall forward to rest against his chest. His free hand wrapped around your body, viciously digging into your ass.

Once your thighs relaxed, Spencer pulled his hand from your cunt, quick to bring them up to your mouth. “Open.” Your jaw fell open, allowing him to push his digits into your mouth. Immediately you alternated between sucking them and swirling your tongue around them, tasting yourself.

But your time together was rudely interrupted by a ringing that buzzed through the air, and you began to look around for the source of the sound. Your eyelids grew overwhelmingly heavy, and the scene around you became distorted, the colors swirling together. Finally, your body succumbed to the tiredness, allowing your eyes to shut and the ringing to fade.

When your eyes opened you were no longer in Spencer’s apartment, but your own dorm. Shit. You had slept through your alarm, too busy dreaming about your most recent one night stand.

Leave it to you to fuck up first impressions. Which is why you were speed walking to class in a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt. You no doubt looked like you had just rolled out of bed, but I mean, you had.

Criminology honestly wasn’t something you needed to take, it was more for fun. It had piqued your interest. You had a hatred for all things school-related, and you thought, maybe if you took more interesting classes, you would be more motivated to do your schoolwork. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful, your parents graciously decided to pay for your college. School was just something that was always difficult for you, and if you couldn’t meet everyone’s standards, what was the point in trying?

Money had never really been a problem for you growing up, and you were known to have a “bratty streak.” But, you tried your hardest to be humble, you knew your family was very fortunate to live the lifestyle they do. Sometimes, though, it could get the best of you, it was your biggest flaw, but at least you were self-aware.

You had really wanted to make a good impression, despite being the stereotypical “rich bitch,” you wanted to show there was more to you than miniskirts and sports cars.

You pushed open the dark wooden door slowly, trying not to disturb the lecture. At least you wouldn’t miss much, just the first half of the syllabus.

The professor turned to you, watching as you ducked your head, practically running up the auditorium and to the first open seat you saw. You hoped he would have resumed his lecture by the time you had set your stuff down, and picked up the syllabus off the table, but you were unlucky. His eyes were glued to you, you could feel them, and for the first time you looked up to see him.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Your eyes widened, and your jaw practically dropped to the floor, he seemed to reflect your look of astonishment. His hands frozen mid-air as if he was talking but suddenly stopped. There was no way, absolutely no way. How, how was this possible? What are the odds, what are the odds that your professor was Spencer, your most recent one night stand?

He stuttered like a deer in the headlights, his hands falling awkwardly to his sides. A hand from across the room shot up, and he immediately took the escape. “U-uh, yes?”

Your mind was reeling, how the hell had you fucked up this bad? What are the odds that your incredible one night stand turned out to be your professor?

Awkward couldn't even begin to describe the situation, and by the way Spencer’s body language shifted, you could tell he felt the same. His hands which usually flailed wildly while he spoke, stayed still at his sides, and his eyes looked anywhere but you.

By the time class was over, you were shifting uncomfortably in your seat, ready to bound out of the auditorium and switch classes. There was no way you could confront him, how are you supposed to, ‘oh, hey Spencer, how’s life? Still making girls come like crazy on your cock?’ Yeah, that definitely wouldn’t work.

You had already stuffed your laptop into your Louis Vuitton bag, pulling it over your shoulder. Students filed out of the room, and you prayed to every higher power that you disappeared into the crowd.

“Miss Y/N” fuck, if it were any other time, that phrase would be hot. You kept walking, in fact, you quickened your pace, and kept your eyes trained on the ground. “Miss Y/N, can I talk to you for a moment?” His voice was louder this time and dripped with authority. Out of all people in the club, you picked your future professor! But, unfortunately for Spencer, you were known to be very stubborn, so you continued your way to the door, your pace picking up speed. You were sure you looked insane rushing to the door, pushing through the crowd of students.

You looked up, body coming to a halt just in time to keep yourself from crashing into the back of a large man. You tried to say excuse me, and push past him, but he was like a giant brick wall, planted right in front of the door. There was no way for you to look around him and even see why he had stopped in the doorway like a fucking idiot.

A hand wrapped around your arm, grabbing your attention, and the sight was like something from a taboo nightmare. Spencer let go of your arm quickly, probably realizing how unprofessional it would look to the other students. “Stay behind for a moment, we need to talk.”

Snickers coursed around you, there was absolutely no way you were ever going to live this down. Hopefully, the other students thought he was apprehending you for being late, you couldn’t exactly explain how you unknowingly slept with your professor.

You followed Spencer back to his desk, standing politely to the side as the two of you awkwardly waited for the room to clear out. As soon as it did, your polite manner disappeared, and your hands met your hips as you shifted your weight onto one leg. “What the fuck?”

Spencer’s eyes widened at your language, his jaw falling open slightly. “You never told me you were a professor!” You exclaimed.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a defensive state taking over his body, “and you never told me you were a student!”

“I didn’t think it mattered! I’m twenty-four!!” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest with an eye roll.

Spencer turned, planting his hands on his desk, “ you’re also my student!”

You groaned, so far neither of you were solving the problem, “no shit, sherlock!”

Spencer’s head turned, sending you a sharp glare. You hated to say it but that would've been so hot if it weren’t for the fact he was your professor.

“Let’s just keep things professional.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “so just pretend it never happened?” It would be a hard task if he was going to dress in a suit like that every day. His tie was a deep maroon color, contrasting against his cream undershirt. His blazer fit his shoulders well, hugging his body perfectly, and all you wanted to do was tear it off.

“Yes, I’m not going to make you switch classes. Neither of us knew, it would be unfair for me to punish you.” Spencer stated, pulling himself back from the desk to face you.

You shifted slightly at the word punish, who the hell uses the word punish in a non-sexual context? Biting your lip, you tried your hardest to suppress a giggle, it was just so hard. A giggle escaped your mouth, your hand flying up to cover your mouth.

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, visibly confused by your outburst. “T-there’s no way you just said the word ‘punish’ in a non-sexual context,” you said between giggles.

Just then a ringing sounded through the room, cutting off your laughter. Spencer glanced at his phone, picking it up quickly, obviously seeking escape from you.

You spun on your heel, taking it as your cue to leave. Right as you approached the door Spencer called out your name, halting you. “Please put on some more appropriate clothing before coming to class.”

A smirk tugged at your lips, deep down you knew this wasn’t over. Especially not after that line, and while walking out the door you made sure to sway your hips a little more than usual.

The next few criminology classes you attended, you behaved like a good little girl. But, slowly, your clothing dwindled, until you had walked into class in a plaid pleated skirt and a cropped tank, the perfect schoolgirl. Now, this wasn’t your only tactic, from what you gathered over the few classes you experienced, nothing peeved Spencer like false factoids. Which you made sure to quote, as long as the numbers were off by one or two points.

Usually, Spencer would have no problem correcting people, but it was different when you were correcting him. Today was like any other, you felt his eyes on you as soon as you walked in the door. Yet you refused to give him the time of day, innocently talking to your friend as you took your seats. You were clad in a skirt, and an old band shirt you had cropped. The outfit seemed perfectly normal for someone your age, unless you counted the fact that the shirt was short enough to expose the bottom half of your lace black bralette.

The lecture began like any other, and you absentmindedly listened for the perfect time to cut in. You had been interested in the class in the beginning, but as always, your focus shifted on Spencer. The way his large hands moved when he spoke, and how he dug his teeth into his bottom lip. You were sure half the people in the class were just there to admire Spencer, I mean, can you blame them? Have you seen the man? He’s the definition of perfection.

Your hand shot up in the air, the corners of your mouth upturned in a slight smirk. You could practically see the dread in Spencer's eyes, his shoulders drooping slightly. “Yes?”

“Can you repeat that one more time?” You questioned, pulling your laptop in front of your body, as if ready to type.

Spencer’s eyes narrowed slightly, scanning you. “Oh, you don’t need to write it down.”

You looked up from your computer, feigning an innocent look as your head tilted slightly, “it sounded pretty important.”

He shoved his pockets, letting out a slight huff, “then maybe you should’ve paid more attention.” With that he continued his lecture, leaving you smirking to yourself. You were definitely getting under his skin.

You slid your computer into your bag, pulling it over your shoulder. For the first time, you initiated eye contact, turning to look at Spencer, only to find him glaring daggers at you. God, you were really in for it.

An innocent smile took over your face, deciding to push him just a bit further, you raised your hand giving him a teasing wave. If possible, his eyes got darker, and his arms crossed over his chest. His button-down was rolled up his arms, leaving his perfect veins on display.

His arms unfolded, one of his hands motioning you towards him. Who would you be to ignore him? You bounded down the stairs, anticipation winding in your stomach. You stopped at the bottom of the stairs, watching as the last group of students walked out of the door.

Your body shifted towards Spencer, “what's up?” You asked.

He scoffed, shaking his head in astonishment, “what do you want from me?”

A sickly sweet smile curled onto your face as you took a few steps closer to Spencer, like a lioness circling her prey. “I’m pretty sure you know what I want Dr. Reid.” With another couple slow steps forward you were within a foot of Spencer. “You’re a smart cookie.”

The corners of Spencer’s mouth twitched into a smirk, mimicking your own. His arm shot out, wrapping swiftly around your elbow, and with one sharp tug, you were chest to chest with Spencer.

His hot breath hit your ear with the new proximity, “correct me if I’m wrong. You want me to bend you over my desk, hike up your pathetic excuse of a skirt, and fuck you until you’re shaking around my cock?”

Someone needed to call the firefighters, because it was getting hot in there. Your mouth fell open in a delirious smile. “I don’t think I’m the only one here who wants that.” You ran a hand down his chest, continuing its trail till it stopped to rest over the slight bulge in his slacks.

Spencer let out a light groan at your touch, “you’re my student.” He protested.

“You’re not pushing me away, professor.”

At first, the only sign he gave you that you had won him over was his tongue poking out to wet his lips. But, quickly, using the hand on your elbow as leverage, he spun you around, shoving you face-first into his desk.

The impact caused you to let out a sharp yelp, your breasts squished harshly against the desk, the wood pressing hard into the top of your thighs. “How taboo, professor, fucking your bratty student over your desk.”

His hand tangled in the roots of your hair, pulling your head back slightly, so you were facing the auditorium. He leaned over you, his breath hitting your ear, and his now noticeable bulge rubbing against your ass. “You think I’m just going to fuck you? A pathetic whore like you doesn’t deserve my cock.”

His words pulled a giggle from your lips, quick to remind him, “well, you already have.”

You wanted to push him to the edge, you craved to feel the anger coursing through him as he pounded you into the desk. He let out a huff, the smooth skin of his hands brushing against your backside as he hiked up your skirt, exposing your ass. A laugh sounded through the air, and he hooked a finger in the lace fabric of your black thong, pulling lightly and letting it snap back against your skin. “Did you wear this just for me?”

“Would you want me to?” You could tell your snide comments were irking him, as his hands ran over your smooth skin, gripping harshly at your ass.

His hands left your skin, and the rustling of fabric could be heard behind you. “Open your mouth.” Your eyebrows knitted in confusion, still, you obeyed, letting your jaw fall open. Fabric filled your mouth as he pulled his tie around your head as a makeshift gag, working to knot the two ends behind you. A muffled protest left your mouth, and you attempted to push yourself from the desk.

But, Spencer had other plans, one of his palms fell to the small of your back, pushing you firmly back against the desk. “I’m tired of your backtalk, you’ll speak when spoken to. Understand?”

You nodded your head against the desk, but that wasn’t what he wanted, as he spoke again, “do you understand?” His voice was sharp and enunciated, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t around you.

“Yeth thir” you garbled through the tie, the pure humiliation of your distorted voice causing a flush to cover your cheeks.

Spencer hummed lightly, “what a pretty sound, almost as pretty as this one.” Once again you were left confused, the answer coming in the form of a swift smack as his hand collided with your ass. Your body lurched forward against the desk, a muffled scream leaving your mouth.

“Thank me, sweetheart. You’re lucky I’m even touching you.” Spencer growled out, before his hand came crashing down again against your backside. It was harsh and painful, yet you didn’t want him to stop. You were sure it must’ve hurt his hand, you know it would hurt yours.

“Thank you, thir.” The tie was warm in from your hot breath, and you could feel spit starting to trail out the corners of your mouth. Never in your life could the term hot mess be so accurate.

Spencer continued his assault on your ass, again and again, leaving your skin red hot and burning. Each time you thanked him, and each time your speech became more and more pathetic as you squirmed against the desk. The overwhelming desire getting the best of you.

His finger hooked in your underwear, this time pulling them to the side. His long digits parted your slick folds. “Maybe I will fuck you, not sure if I’ll let you cum though.” He thought aloud.

You whined at his words, stretching out against the desk to push your ass back towards him, longing for more friction. The action caused his fingers to run deliciously over your clit, eliciting a low moan from your mouth.

“Pleath, pleath fuck me.” It was crazy how quick he could break down your resolve, no longer fighting, but rather eagerly submitting to him.

His touch left your body, the glorious sound of clinking metal and rustling clothes following his retreat. “You’re lucky you’re such a pretty whore.” One of his hands met the side of your hip, the other reached up to grab a hold of your hair. The head of his cock pushed past your folds as he sheathed himself inside you.

The sounds and curses you released were muffled by the tie, Spencer pulled back almost completely, before slamming back into you. The feeling of his warm cock plunging in and out of you was incredible, and you were sure he felt the same, as he let out low moans behind you.

With each thrust his hips smacked against your sore ass, adding to the redness. The hand buried in your hair began to yank you back in time with his thrusts. “Is this what you wanted? For me to bury my cock in you? For me to punish you?”

You attempted to answer, but all that came out was a screech. His hand left your hair, letting the top half of your body collapse onto the desk. He used both hands to grab your hips, pulling you up as he thrusted, the new angle allowed him to brush against your g-spot. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and your jaw clenched, teeth baring down on the tie.

It was times like these that made you question whether or not you were a sex addict. Because the feeling of being filled was completely intoxicating, you never wanted it to end. “You know, you’re a very smart girl. Maybe if you thought with your head more, and not your cunt, you would do better in my class.”

Well, it was hard to pay any attention when your professor was Spencer fucking Reid. He laughed behind you, “but you can’t do that, can you? You’re so desperate for cock, that you purposely corrected me with false information so you could get a rise out of me.”

Your body had devolved to a moaning mess, and you squirmed unceremoniously against the desk. You could feel your orgasm threatening to overtake you from the telltale signs of your legs beginning to shake under you, and your hips rutting back against Spencer wildly.

“It worked, didn’t it? You got what you wanted? Because, now you’re here, cumming on my cock.”

Like magic, his words pulled your orgasm from your body. You sobbed into the tie, and your nails scratched against his desk. You barely registered Spencer pulling out behind you, groaning as ropes of his cum coated your ass.

Heavy breaths filled the room as the two of you came down from your orgasms. “You okay?” Spencer rasped. His hands came up to your head, fumbling with the knotted tie.

The tie slipped from your mouth, falling onto the desk. “Yeah,” your voice was equally as hoarse as his, if not more.

“Good,” he replied.

Your next class of Professor Reid’s you actually decided to pay attention and withhold your annoying commentary. Like always, the students began to file out when the class ended, yet you took your time. When the last student walked out you turned to Spencer, watching as his head tilted slightly. He was thinking, probably figuring out what you were trying to do. But, there was no need for that.

You walked to his desk, a genuine smile etched onto your face. “You up for lunch, Dr.Reid?”

His eyes narrowed at you, a light smile crossing his face, “just lunch?”

“Hmm… maybe more than lunch.” You giggled.

He turned picking up his satchel, and pulling it over his head, to rest across his body. “Only if you promise to be a good girl.” He said, taking a step towards you.

You pouted playfully at him, “I’m never good, doctor.” The statement caused the two of you to laugh, before you were off to a discreet lunch.

Tag list: @pinkdiamond1016 @gubler-squad @obsessed-with-spencerreid

[nelapanela94]

THIEF

LevixFem!Y/N Warnings: Slight 18+ :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Focus. Steel gray orbs re-read the same line for the nth time. Again. How was he supposed to finish all his paperwork by evening if he was stuck in the same sentence? Levi took a sip of his peppermint tea, placed the cup back on the table and shook his head determined to complete his work in due time. But the scene that has been wandering in his head since morning wouldn't allow it.

Stupid Y/N, why was she so careless?

He covered his face with his hands and groaned in frustration. His cheeks felt warmer under his touch. The recently promoted Captain turned around in his chair, stood up, and walked towards the window. Maybe a little fresh air would ease his mind.

He couldn’t be more wrong, though.

The cause of his sinful thoughts entered his field of vision. Y/N had come back from patrolling, her horse walking quietly by her side as she led it back to the stables. At least, she was fully dressed this time; however, it didn't stop his heart from pounding wildly in his chest. His eyes followed her as his mind took him back to the events from early that day. .

After showering, getting dressed, and having his morning tea, Levi had decided to take a walk around the training grounds before breakfast was served. He wanted a peaceful moment for himself, away from the hustle and bustle of everyone's morning routine.

He walked aimlessly at a slow, leisurely pace with only one thing in mind.

A person, indeed.

Y/N had been a scout before he joined the Survey Corps. She, as well as Hange, had been one of the few people who didn't belittle Levi and his friends; and when he lost Isabel and Farlan, she did her best to comfort him. With her positive attitude and kind-hearted personality, it was easy for her to make friends.

As time passed, he developed feelings for Y/N that he couldn’t fully recognized at first. Hange was first to realized he had a crush on her, and could not restrain from teasing the grumpy raven-haired. He had been in utter denial for so long, but eventually found himself thinking of her first thing every morning and last every night. She had become the thief of his thoughts, and it seemed she wouldn't settle for so little. No, that greedy Y/N was taking over his heart as well.

The growing sound of burbling water took him back to reality. Levi studied his surroundings when he reached the source of the buzzing sound.

Has this been here all the time?

The waterfall was greenish-blue, gushing over the rocks and thundering down into the pool like a massive water spout. Foam formed on the surface as the water toppled into the plunge pool. The place was still cool and foggy, since the sun light was yet to bring its joy and warmth.

Levi rested his back against a tree trunk, contemplating the beautiful nature's work when his gaze darted towards a strange silhouette in the mist. With squinting eyes, he came closer to get a better view of the figure, but nothing would've prepared him for what he was about to see.

His eyes opened wide as he covered his mouth with his hands, abruptly turning around. A red shade crept across his face and his breathes quickened.

There she was, serenely and undisturbed, floating face up on the water surface with her eyes closed and arms extended out to the side. The only issue, and cause of his shameful reaction was that the girl was naked. Completely naked.

He hid behind a rock before she noticed she wasn’t alone.

Levi felt the urge to take a peek and make sure it wasn’t his brain conspiring against him, but he didn’t want to feel like a perv. He didn't want to leave either. What if somebody else showed up and took advantage of her. He had to be there to protect her.

His pants were getting tighter, and his eyes looked down at the bulge in embarrassment. The ravenette felt like a teenage boy under the influence of hormones.

Fuck. .

Levi turned his head to the door when he heard the knocks. He straightened his back and fixed the collar of his shirt.

"name and business"

"It's me, Levi"

He swallowed the lump in his throat at the sound of Y/N's voice. "Come on in" he firmly said, doing his best to disguise his nervousness.

She stepped in, closing the door behind her. "Captain Levi, my bad" she offered an apologetic smile.

"Y/N, you know you can drop it"

She walked closer and handed him a small wrapped box with a bow on top. "This is for you. Congratulations for your promotion, Captain"

"Thanks" a small smile drew on his lips as his cheeks slightly blushed.

"I made it in my pottery class, I hope you like it" She swiveled around, taking a look at his new office. It was the first time she stopped by after he was named captain. "Sweet. You even get your own room." She commented. "This place is nice, I think I'll come more often" She cuckled. "Only if you want me to" Y/N whirled around again to see him, with a lopsided grin displayed on her face. He was leaning against the desk, his hands resting on his side.

Her brows knitted, scanning his face as she approached him. "Are you ok?" She asked with concern in her voice and placed the back of her hand on his forehead, making the man jolt back.

His heart pounded hard in his chest; he was certain she could hear the beating sound.

"I...I'm alright" he stammered, giving himself away.

And she finally understood.

Y/N batted her eyeslashes and slightly opened her mouth with the tip of her tongue showing. "I see"

She leaned forward, only an inch keeping their lips apart. "You look so adorable when you're all flustered" she teased flirtatiously, placing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Don't hesitate anymore and kiss me already, dummy"

He was left startled at her words. Did she have the same feelings for him or was she just playing with his heart? He had to find out anyway.

With his hands on her shoulders he closed the small gap, pressing his mouth against hers and time stopped instantly. Y/N's heart beat faster and harder and her legs wobbled, almost losing her balance. Delicately and gently, his peppermint flavored lips brushed hers. She wondered if she was daydreaming again with this moment, but the firm squeezed on her shoulders reassured her it was utterly real. Levi half opened his eyes to sneak a peek at her, just to ensure it wasn’t his imagination toying with his emotions.

When he was ready to pull away, she kissed him back wrapping her arms around his neck, and all shyness and insecurities drifted away from him. His hands traveled up and cupped her face as his body detached from the desk he was resting on, deepening the kiss.

What had started innocent and sweet turned fierce and desperate. Her lips parted instinctively and his tongue began the conquest in the depths of her mouth, demanding and consuming.

He smelled incredible. And she didn’t mean the fresh lavender from his impeccably cleaned clothes, but his natural masculine scent that she found intoxicating.

Her hands slid down his perfectly sculpted chest, then his torso, and only stopped when they felt the leather of his belt under their touch. Heat rose from her stomach to her chest. She wanted more of him. She needed more. Guilt inundated her whenever she touched herself picturing his body pressed against hers. He had stolen all her dreams, not only the sweet ones, but the dirty and raw ones as well, and now they were near to come true.

His lips traveled down her jaw, leaving a trail of kisses, and settled in her neck. "Levi" she weakly said, tipping her head back while his mouth moved along her sensitive skin.

"Huh?"

With her hands grabbing his belt, she pulled him towards her body, grinding her pelvis against the hard bulge in his pants. "Fuck, Y/N" He gasped. How can she switch from sweet to sexy in so little?

She smirked, leaning her mouth to his ear and muttered "I think is the perfect time to show me your new room Captain"

[thero0ks]

Hey I was wondering if I could request a NSFW Miche x Reader where the reader is wearing slightly revealing clothing to impress him?? Loving your work!!

Thank you so much for the request! I enjoyed writing this. Hopefully this is what you had in mind :D DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18

SMUT AHEAD!!

               Revealing Light (Miche X Reader) NSFW!

Silk clung to every curve of her body. Emerald eyes were locked on her frame in the low candlelight. While she glanced over the menu, Miche took her in. Breathtaking was the first word that came to mind. When he saw her pull the black slip dress from the rack he hadn’t expected it to cling to her body in that way. Not bothering to even try it on he handed over his card, no questions asked. 

As the silk slipped over her body, she lifted her (dark/light) locks for him to tie the straps in the back, and the breath left his body as he watched the dress cling to her body. His hands dropped trailing over her hip. “This dress looks amazing,” he murmured. Mesmerized at her figure on display.

“You look beautiful.” 

Praises kept falling from his lips as he took her in. From every angle the dress looked perfect. Shapely legs on display, the curve of her ass was enticing, and the hem of her dress was just long enough to tease the imagination. Something inside him begged him to ask her to stay home for the evening, but she looked so excited for the date he’d promised. He’d surprised her a couple days ago with reservations to one of the nicest restaurants in town. 

Pretty silk she’d put on just for him, even though she looked divine in whatever she wore. Pride welled inside of him at the amount of effort she put in just for him. Strappy heels made her stand a little taller, but she still looked tiny in comparison to him. All he wanted to do was sit her on the edge of the table and have his meal immediately, but she deserved to be treated like a queen for the effort she’d put in for him. 

Leaning forward she pulled his attention back to her eyes. “I think that guy passing by was staring,” she commented, before eyes flickered back to the menu as she sat back in her chair. Miche raised his brows. It was very rare that his wife pointed out when men looked her way. Usually she was completely oblivious to the looks she always seemed to draw. Eyes only for him. Oblivious to the stares she drew, because she was always fussing over him. 

“Who?” Miche inquired, and saw the small blush cross her cheeks. 

“He’s sitting a couple tables behind you, dark hair, and a beard.” 

“Do you want me to go say something?” he teased, only to hear a sweet laugh fall from her lips. Shaking her head the waitress came over, and inquired about drinks. 

“Champagne,” she said, pulling out her ID to hand to the waitress. Miche had been with her since high school, and at thirty-five she hardly looked over twenty. She’d aged well, and he’d be lying if he didn’t consider himself a lucky man. 

Miche ordered a whiskey, and the waitress didn’t bother to check his ID. Disappearing to get their drinks. Setting the menu aside she turned her attention back to his broad frame. Miche took in the perfect expanse of her skin that the thin dress straps displayed. He had no regrets purchasing the dress. Settling into conversation the waitress set their drinks down, and he watched Y/N pull out her phone to snap a quick photo of the fizzing liquid. 

Fried Calamari was set down, and he watched her eagerly dig in. Somehow she always knew the best dishes to order, and he found himself ordering the exact same thing she did. Sipping the champagne she enjoyed the bubbles that popped on her tongue, as the smooth liquid slid down her throat.

Even after eighteen years together they had no issues connecting. Their relationship was as natural as breathing. Miche felt like he was counting down the seconds to the check. Eager to rip the dress off her, and see the figure that it covered. Never would he tire of seeing her beautiful curves. 

As soon as the waitress brought the check over, Miche was slipping her his card. Getting up from the table he watched her drop her purse, several glasses of champagne had made her a little tipsy. Miche knew exactly what to expect as soon as he got home. Small hands would be traveling the plain of his body, dirty words falling from her pouty lips, and she would be pulling him into bed by his tie. 

Opening her car door she slid in, and he closed her car door with care. Starting the car the dash lights framed her silhouette. When they were on the freeway he felt a small hand slide up his thighs, and he raised a brow glancing over at her. She wore a wickedly innocent expression, and he knew exactly what her intentions were as she reached for his belt buckle. 

“Shit!” He said glancing down, at her popping open his button. 

“Eyes on the road, or I’ll stop.” 

Miche swallowed thickly. Dominant was another trait she tended to take on when she had a few drinks. Typically she’d make him lay there and use him in whatever way she wanted. It was hot, and he didn’t mind relinquishing control on the occasion when she promised that she wanted to make him feel good. He was already hard when she slipped him free of his underwear. Perfectly manicured hand giving him a few slow strokes. White knuckling the steering wheel at the new sensation. 

When her tongue darted out to taste him, his right hand automatically buried itself in her hair. Sitting a little deeper in the seat he tried to focus on the road as she sucked in the tip of his dick. He bit his lip as he felt her tongue swirl around his head teasing him. Drawing out the pleasure he’d always wondered how she knew exactly what he needed whenever she sucked him off. Bobbing her head had him speeding down the freeway, and he didn’t realize he was going ninety, until she took him deep and had him glancing down. Eyes caught the speedometer, and he moved his foot to apply the brakes, lest he get pulled over with his dick out. Miche took the exit home, and stopped at a light. Licking his lips as a vehicle pulled up next to him at the stop light. He knew it was too dark for anyone to see inside the vehicle, especially with the black window tint. Taking a moment to look down at her lips wrapped around his cock set him over the edge, and he found himself cumming into her mouth. 

Swallowing everything he had to give her, she wiped at her perfect lips with her thumb. The bitter taste still lingering in her mouth. Miche pulled her to him, smashing his lips against her’s and he kissed her hungrily. Selfless, so selfless in the way she was happy to give him pleasure and expect nothing in return. A horn from behind pulled them from their kiss, as Miche remembered they were still in a vehicle stopped at a now green light. He took off, eager to get home and return the pleasure she’d just give him.

As soon as they were out of the car Miche’s hands were caressing her sides. Fingers fumbled with the keys as she tried to unlock the front door. Miche’s large hand covered hers helping her with the key, as his lips remained on her neck. Not caring what the neighbors saw. As soon as the door was open he had her pressed against the wall as his long arm locked the deadbolt. His thigh was wedged between her legs, and he could feel her slowly grating against him as his whiskers tickled her neck.Groping her through the silk she was soft in all the right places.

Lifting her up, she soon had her legs wrapped around his waist and her back was pressed into the wall. Closer to his height now so he wouldn’t have to bend down he pulled her into a deep kiss. Pushing his tongue into her mouth he could taste the bittersweetness from the champagne and his own release. Large hands kneaded her ass, as his tongue slid across hers. Dainty fingers tangled in his hair. Thick golden locks felt like fine silk against her fingertips as she gently tugged on them. A soft groan vibrated from his chest as the sensation, as he drug his lips across her neck. Tilting her head to the side to give him better access to her slender neck. 

Carrying her into the bedroom, her back met their plush mattress. After her little surprise in the car, he was eager to take care of her pleasure. All she would have to do is lay back against the pillows, and let him treat her like the divine being she was. Unclasping the strappy five inch heel he let the shoe fall to the ground, clattering against the hardwood floor. Kissing up her calf, the skin was smooth against his lips, and the soft scent of her lotion was fragrant as he inhaled. Removing her other heel he continued the same ministrations before he helped her up. Nimble fingers reaching back to untie the dress, letting silk pool at her feet. The opened back dress did not allow for a bra, and Miche reached out to caress one of her breasts. Nipples already hard from the cool air, and her obvious arousal. 

Shuttering at his touch, the nipple he thumbed was sensitive. It was one of the things he loved about her. The way she’d wither against him as he sucked on her breasts, desperate to grind against him to relieve some of the pressure pooling in her core. The panties were red silk, and barely covered her soaking cunt. 

Miche lifted her once again, placing her against the pillows, as he removed his button up. Heady eyes watched him from her spot on the bed. “You look divine,” he commented, pulling off his shirt to reveal a toned chest. “I’m going to worship you tonight,” he said reaching between her legs to rub against her clothed clit. A soft “mmnn” escaped her lips as he leaned over to suck her nipple into his mouth. Fingers immediately buried into his hair as she threw her head back in pleasure. Smirking against her breast, he swirled his tongue around her nipple soliciting sweet wimpers. He continued swirling his tongue, and occasionally giving the hard bud a soft tug with his lips, until he had her grinding against his hand.  

“Let me do it baby. You sit back and let me take care of you,” Miche said, peeling the now soaked fabric from her body. Settling between her legs, he wrapped his arms under her thighs, and pulled her closer to his face. Inhaling her intoxicating scent, he nipped along her inner thighs, enjoying the way her muscles quivered at the contact. 

Lowering his mouth onto her clit, she felt her heartbeat in anticipation of the new sensation. Pleasure spread throughout her body as he swirled his tongue. Gripping his hair, and arching her back she let her eyes close to enjoy the sensation of his mouth on her. Slipping a finger into her he slowly worked her open soliciting a soft gasp. 

Warmth filled her limbs as Miche kept up a steady pace on her clit. The finger that teased her entrance eventually turned into two, and a feeling of fullness had her grinding into his fingers. When he hooked his fingers to rub that spongy spot inside her she was seeing stars. The pressure building in her core was too much, but not enough. The wet squelching of her juices coating his fingers filled the room. Lapping at her cum, Miche felt her walls tighten around his fingers. On the edge of an orgasm he kept up the same rhythm, and soon felt her walls fluttering around his fingers. Heady eyes flickered up to watch her come undone on his fingers and tongue. Her head was thrown back, and her back had a perfect arch as her fingers tugged at his hair. 

Releasing her thighs, he watched the blissful look cross her features. Looking up at him through a hazy fucked out gaze he thought she looked like a masterpiece. Ridding himself of the rest of his clothing he settled between her thighs. 

“Your body is perfect,” he hummed, running his fingers down the plains of her body. 

Innocent eyes gazed up at him. “It is?”

Miche nodded, as he reached over to his bedside table to pull out a condom. “You have no idea what your body does to me,” Miche said, tearing at the condom wrapper with his teeth. 

Rolling the rubber over his dick, he checked the small air pocket at the end to make sure there were no leaks before pulling her closer to him by her thighs. Her back slid against the comforter as her ass came into contact with his warm thighs. Spreading her legs to accommodate his size, he lifted her hips slightly off the mattress by her thighs to give him a better angle to enter her in. Slipping the head of his cock through her folds pupils blew wide watching her squirm eager to take him. 

“So eager for my cock princess?” Miche growled, a smirk appearing on his lips. 

“Miche, please.” She whimpered, fingers gripping the comforter desperate to be filled.

“You know I love it when you beg,” Miche said lowly. 

Pressing the tip to her entrance he slowly slipped inside. Heady eyes focusing on his cock sinking into her inch by inch. “You always take me so good baby,” Miche murmured. Hypnotized by the way her pussy gripped around him. A small sigh escaped his lips when he finally bottomed out. 

“So big,” it came out as a moan. Her hand slipping down to her stomach to feel her abs contorting around him to accommodate for his size. Delicate features looked angelic under him, and she always looked so small. Calloused fingertips covered hers, feeling the bulge in her stomach. 

Automatically Miche started to rock his hips, eager to feel himself filling her with each thrust. Soft whimpers encouraged him, as he licked his thumb before drawing small circles around her sensitive bundle of nerves. The hand that wasn’t on her stomach gripped his forearm, digging crescent shaped marks into his skin. Pleasure lit up her body as she felt her second orgasm for the evening build. The coil wound tighter, causing her toes to curl as she braced herself for the coil to snap. “I’m close,” she whined, desperate to reach her peak. 

“Cum for me baby. I want to feel you,” Miche purred. That was all it took for the coil to snap, and her orgasm wracked her body. Miche watched her brows furrow, as she squeezed her eyes closed. The pleasure was too much for her to handle, her nails dug into his forearm, as her other hand slightly curved around the bulge in her tummy.  

“Fuck, you’re pussy is like a vice,” Miche groaned, his own orgasm hitting him. Her cunt gripped him so tightly he couldn’t move. His other hand caught him as he slouched over her as her orgasm slowly subsided, and her grip on him lessened. Soon her walls were gently fluttering around him. Aftershocks of her orgasm. 

Panting, he looked up at her euphoric gaze. Perfectly content her thighs opened wider as her muscles relaxed. Pressing a kiss to her lips he pulled out, disappearing into the bathroom to discard the condom. 

(H/C) spilled over the pillows, and Miche noticed she’d crawled under the covers while he was in the restroom. Climbing into bed he pulled her onto his chest. Her cheek pressed against him, as she listened to his heartbeat. 

“Did you like the dress?” She asked softly.

Miche ran his fingertips across her skin. “You looked divine in that dress. I could hardly keep my hands off you.” 

Humming in response to his answer she let her eyes flutter closed. Focusing on the soft beating of his heart she found herself drifting off. His skin was warm, and his arms safe. Miche pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, and she soon felt the heavy feeling of sleep take over.

[pretty-face-breaker]

Those Sunday Evenings

c.w. post-whipping, non-sexual nudity, being cuffed to a bed post, military whump, intimidation and abuse of power 

Tagging: @straight-to-the-pain

——

It took a slim ray of sun striking between Emir’s eyes to wake him. 

As he drew in his first full breath, his eyelashes fluttered, giving the mattress in front of him shape. Only a moment later did he become aware of the raw ache in his bare back and he gasped, breathing in the rough fibres of the blanket all at once. His body shook with a sneeze and as his hands went to shield the blanket, there only came an awful jerk and click. 

Emir tugged again as his heart sank. Another click, reassuring that both his wrists were cuffed in place to the bedpost.

A rough voice pierced from behind. “Awake already I see.”  

Emir jerked up and tried his best to turn around but could only manage to crane his neck far enough back to see what he assumed to be the General’s coat - a dull blue, almost entirely washed out. Is this what they think dresses the higher ranks well? The sardonic thought passed in a flash and he turned almost immediately, wary that the General may have read the insult in his eyes.  

“Not even good morning?” Levkin leaned and set a hand on Emir’s shoulder, laughing deep in his throat when he tensed and shifted against the cuffs on cue. “Do not worry, I am not here to hurt you again. Only to let you out for now.” 

The For now brought Emir’s fear rushing back as soon as it settled. 

Levkin could have noticed the change in breathing, and if he did it would have only delighted him further. Keeping his promise, he grabbed Emir’s cuffs and unlocked them with two, three frustrated tugs when the gadget didn’t give immediately. Emir thought he heard him mutter “Piece of shit” under his breath as he undid them and threw them aside. 

Emir could have laughed and quipped about Soviet equipment if his position wasn’t nearly as precarious. 

“... If-... if I may be so bold, General,” Emir started, taking a second to gingerly rub over the red marks settled in his wrists, and cautious with his tone, “how long am I to?-” 

A snapping interruption from the man came as if second nature. “Did you have your ears plugged when I told you? I said the barracks, boy.” 

Emir gulped, regretting he hadn’t thought over the question before going ahead. It had always been a weakness, his mouth. Unless he wanted a repeat of the previous night where the whip had done away for close to half a merciless hour, skin bruised and hurting in stripes where each one felt like dull fire even now, he felt the ever increasing need to be cautious, cautious, cautious. The General had a temper, and one that he wouldn’t be able to tell from his face.

His face never changed. 

“My apologies, sir,” he returned. 

Caution. Atac. 

He kept his eyes down as he stood and it was then that he fully realized just how bare he was, with his shirt gone and his pants only hanging off his hips. His face ignited with humiliation as he spun away. the resounding chuckles from the General making him want to sink further into the floor more than he had ever wanted to before.

Uncharacteristically, Levkin seemed to pity him for his state and grunted before handing him back a crumpled jacket that hung loosely from his thumb. Emir close to snatched it and slipped it on all at once, fumbling with the buttons and belt rapidly. That was when he noticed that two uniformed men were peaking through the door of the bedroom, one of whom had his arms tucked into the small of his back. 

Pinned between all three, Emir’s breathing went shallower. 

Levkin looked over to the corner that had caught Emir’s eye. “These two will be escorting you to the barracks. You will be issued your uniforms and then given further instructions.” He paused for a moment, letting Emir compose himself after the embarrassment and absorb the information again. “And once again, soldier…” 

Emir glanced up, suddenly unsettled by how his voice sunk. 

“You are under the Red Star. Krasnaya Zvezda. Is this understood?” He stepped forward, that same icy look swallowing his face whole so totally that Emir’s answer was spelled out before him. Each letter clear as day in those furrowed brows and icicle eyes tucked beneath them that held him in place. The General’s voice was thick with pride and order. “I want no problems from you, soldier, if you are even dignified of that title.” 

Emir tensed at that final hiss. “Yes, sir. Yes-... I- I understand.” He couldn’t tell if Levkin had beckoned in the men standing at the door already but they were entering and heading for him, both a good foot taller than himself-both with batons. His fingers curled into his fists, catching sight of them and a phantom pain shot through his ribs at the crawling memory of the guard with the hunch. 

“Don’t think they will ever save you.” That guard had told him and he hadn’t believed it at first. 

He was led out of the bedroom, through the home, and outside where snow lightly drifted through the sky, the soundless kind he liked to watch sometimes with a sahlab on the window sill from which he would take little spoonfuls. His sisters in the background would often quarrel over who’s had more seeds. It would always be early evening, similar to this one.

Similar and not at all the same. Those Sunday evenings.

Emir ducked his head to climb into the backseat of the car with one of the men, not caring to make a distinction as they looked close to identical. They didn’t speak for much of the drive and for that, he was deeply grateful. He could watch the snow in silence, ignoring the quiet rumble of the engine.  

Somewhere halfway through the trip, he felt that one of the men’s breathing had changed direction and particularly in his own. Though each second that he compelled himself to ignore it, his nerves ground together more and more until he eventually glanced back and met the man. 

He was curiously peeking down through the shadow of the black ushanka and his eyes didn’t seem… as hard anymore. Although granted, he hadn’t looked at them even in Levkin’s house. Neither of them. 

“A soldier in that house personally invited by Stas, no less?” he asked with a hint of a smirk. His voice was modulated albeit heavy with an accent and in an undertone, as if he didn’t want the driver to hear. “How did that happen, huh soldier?”    

Emir looked from his fur hat to the window behind him, the passing trees and how they blurred together so familiarly on the path, just as they had on those Sunday evenings. Almost forgot to answer the question, lost in the trance of the rushing trees. 

“Not a soldier,” he responded honestly and upon seeing the curious prick of his eyebrows, probably at his own accent, added in a softer tone. “Just an-... an addition.”  

—

[remmushound]

Part 6 of my bay/rise crossover! @errorfreak88 @brightlotusmoon

“Donnie.”

Donnie yelped and almost dropped the shell armor he was carrying. It bounced in his hands a few times before he was able to get a grip on it again and he turned to face Leo with a huff.

“Leo. Ah— what are you doing up so early? I thought you didn't wake up until six.”

“It’s six thirty Don.”

Donnie blinked. “Oh. Must’ve lost track of the time.” Donnie rubbed the back of his head anxiously.

Leo gave a smirk and leaned his weight against the wall. “Any word from our guests?” 

“Uh— yeah, the um. The softshell mutant is awake.” Donnie motioned to the room Donatello was in.

“Great.” Leo gave a nod before shoving his way past Donnie and starting toward the door. Donnie yelped and grabbed his shorter brother by the arm to yank him away.

“Wait! He’s— he’s still a little high on the um… injection so you might wanna give him a while.”

“He’s conscious, and he can talk, so why wait?” Leo went to open the door again, but Donnie’s grip was like a vice.

“It— it might be better to give him some time to—“

“Get off me.” Leo finally yanked his arm free and pushed himself through the door before Donnie could stop him again.

Donatello didn't flinch as the door was slammed open. Leo’s scowl quickly faded away at the lack of intimidation on the other mutants' face— in fact, he looked almost bored with the situation.

“You really should knock. I could’ve been doing anything in here.” Donatello said calmly, eyes staring blankly toward Leo.

Leo struggled for words a moment before his confidence returned to him and he said quite loudly, “Who are you? How’d you get here?”

“Leo, I already asked him that—“ Donnie tried to explain.

Donatello’s mix-matched eyes lit up at the mention of his brother's name, but quickly cooled back to a relaxed state. “So you’re a Leo? I mean, you’re already more arrogant than my Leo, I’ll give you that.”

“Excuse me?” Leo snarled, confusion starting to cloud his judgement once more.

“Leooo.” Donnie whined, getting between his counterpart and his brother to try and push Leo away. “I told you— I already asked him those things!”

“Then he should have no issue repeating them.”

“Oh would you look at that, I don’t care.”

“Leooo!” Donnie yanked Leo back out of the room and closed the door. 

“What, Donnie, what?!” Leo finally snapped in his brother's face, giving the taller box turtle a harsh shove, “Come on! Don’t pull your punches! Spit it out!”

Donnie shrank into his shell, his eyes avoiding the angry leader’s and his mind crashing in on itself like a sort of self-preservation technique. Silence was a valid option. It took only a few seconds for Leo’s rage to turn to a calmer frustration as he put a hand on Donnie’s shoulder.

“S-sorry Don.” He immediately apologized, “I’m just a little on edge right now.”

Donnie gave a shy smile as he peeked back out from his shell, fear of Leo almost immediately forgotten. “That’s okay Leo, but I promise I’m handling it, and I didn't mean to keep anything from you. I was just trying to get him to trust me, and you’re not always so good at… well, not being intimidating.”

“Yeah.” Leo laughed weakly and rubbed his head, “I guess that’s your strong suit, huh? I didn't mean to yell at you.”

“We’re all under a lot of stress right now— a little shouting’s to be expected.”

“But he has been talking to you?” Leo prompted.

“Yes— he and I are uh… getting along quite well. Mostly because he’s uh… me?”

Leo wasn’t so surprised at the declaration, given the intense thoughts that had raced through his head in the twelve hour wait, but it still made him feel almost numb hearing such words from his most trusted source.

“Are you sure?” Leo asked Donnie in a hushed voice, “Really sure?”

“I— I asked him a bunch of questions and they all seem to make sense. He said he and his brothers and his Master Splinter and their April were running from their Shredder when a portal opened up and it brought them here.”

“Are we sure this isn’t a trick? Some— some other mutant turned by Krang to try and trick us somehow?”

“I… can’t say for sure…” Donnie said softly.

“Don.” Leo warned, his eyes wide as he kept glancing back to the room and its perceived threat.

“But hear me out!” Donnie begged, “I’m telling you, this guy seems legit! He— he knew the numbers of the Fibonacci sequence—“

“Donnie.”

“— he—he seems really eloquent and— and he knew all our names!”

“Don.” Leo’s voice was surprisingly soft for carrying such an attention-demanding tone. “I think you might be getting a little close to this.”

“Leo— if— if this is legit, and I really think it is, then this is a breakthrough I could’ve never imagined happening in our lifetimes! That means there’s other worlds out there— other timelines— other us’s!”

“We already knew all about that from Krang.”

“No, Leo! All we knew was that there was one other planet with what appeared to be organic life— this is something totally new! It— it could prove Hugh Everett’s theory of the multiverse!”

Donnie scrambled away from Leo to pull down a whiteboard from a section of his lab. Leo simply watched and listened to his brother’s ranting, his mind absorbing the words like a sponge and sifting through them quickly. Donnie grabbed a marker from his belt and immediately started scribbling as he spoke.

“Everett proposed the theory in 1957 that there are an infinite number of worlds with infinite possibilities existing in an infinite space— all encased in our own little bubbles!” Donnie scribbled a bunch of circles and marked them one through six. “And that we're all floating together in the same space like— like when you blow bubbles! We’re just drifting, unaware of all the other bubbles around us! But sometimes…” Donnie drew two of the bubbles overlapping each other, “We collide— and for a few seconds or minutes or years, our realities seep together until we’re separated again! That’s one of the theories for why we experience deja vu— the feeling that you’ve already experienced something—“

“I know what it is, Donnie.” Leo couldn’t help but laugh at Donnie’s excitement. “And I understand why it's got you so excited, but…”

“But?” Donnie almost deflated, expecting a rebuke.

“If it is true, then… where’s the rest of them?”

Donnie blinked.

“The other four?” Leo prompted with a breathless laugh, “This other Leo and Mikey and Splinter and April he mentioned?”

Donnie was blank another moment before his eyes sparked and realization hit him harder than one of Mikey’s nunchucks.

“Oh my Goooood I didn't even think about that! They— they could be anywhere!” 

Donnie withdrew his whiteboard back up in its stationary position without erasing anything as he scrambled for one of his many computers.

“There’s no reason to think they all landed here in the city— they could’ve landed anywhere— they might—“

“Donnie.” Leo said softly, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder and squeezing to bring him back to reality. Donnie gave a startled noise as if he had forgotten Leo was there for a moment. “It’s okay. Take a breath.”

Donnie’s hands hovered just above his keyboard as his breaths came out shaky at first but slowly steadied themselves as he worked through the knot in his chest.

“There. Easy.” Leo started breathing alongside Donnie to encourage him along. “Now relax. Even if they aren’t in the city, you can find them anywhere on the planet! I know you can!” He gave Donnie a playful shove, “So just take a minute more to calm down before you put your genius to work, huh?”

“Yeah…” Donnie panted and then laughed weakly, “Yeah�� okay… yeah…”

[stardust-walker]

World on Fire {Loki X Sigyn!Reader}

Summary: Sigyn was supposed to have died almost 100 years ago. A peace mission to Migard gone wrong and she had never returned. Everyone had thought she was dead until Loki is shown someone who looks too familiar when he comes to Earth on a mission. Sharon Odell. Shannon Orwell. Sidney Orwell. No matter what name she goes by, it’s all the same. Now that Gods and heroes are real, there’s no use hiding who she really is anymore.

TLDR; Sigyn has been hiding on Earth for like 100 years and gets sucked into being on the Avengers. A series based around the one-shot I did titled Undying Fidelity.

Chapter 1

They had been on the move for a couple days by the time they got to settle down. It definitely wouldn’t be long seeing how Loki seemed determined to recruit an army and lucky for him, SHIELD had no lack of enemies.

Unlucky for him, they worked faster than him.

“Jane Foster has been moved off the grid, sir. No record of her for the past few days,” Clint grumbled as he continued to click through the files of the people that SHIELD had decided were interesting enough to keep an eye on.

Selvig sighed and shook his head.

“Can you not do this on your own, doctor?” Loki frowned as he drummed his fingers on the handle of the scepter that he wouldn’t let out of his sight.

Selvig perked up. It could have been from nerves or excitement, the god wasn’t sure. “Of course, Loki. The Tesseract has shown me...so much about how it works! We should be able to share it with other people, don’t you think?”

Loki could practically feel the Other breathing down his neck as they spoke. He didn’t answer this time, at least not with words. Instead, he let out an annoyed sort of grunt as his eyes flickered over towards the Tesseract. Perhaps it would be helpful to have someone else in case he had to dispose of Selvig at one point or another. The human life-span was so different from his own so who was to say if the man got too old to serve his purpose.

“What about Sidney?” Clint spoke up again as he looked up from the tablet that he had been focused on for the past few minutes. This seemed to peek the older man’s interest; Loki just turned his gaze towards the archer and waited for him to continue. “She’s almost as good as Jane with the astrophysics, right?”

Loki had to stop himself as he nearly physically cringed at the mention of Thor’s Midgardian love.

“Almost?” Selvig laughed. “If she hadn’t disappeared off of the map 3 years ago, she would have made a real name for herself. Sidney Orwell was one of the brightest interns that Jane had...until Darcy, anyway.”

“What use is another individual of your specialty if they all can’t be found,” Loki said through gritted teeth.

“She can be found.” Clint assured them as he turned the tablet to face the other two men. “This was from last week. A convenience store pretty close to Gainesville, New York. It’s in the middle of nowhere. Population below 500. A good place for someone who doesn’t want to be found. Running diagnostics now!”

Loki leaned forward slightly. His facial features didn’t betray the interest that he felt as he took in as many details of the woman’s face as he could from the grainy security footage.

She looked young, but that wasn’t saying much. Many Midgardians would say he looked young as well. Her face was too blurry to really make out any details until a little box popped up in the corner of the screen.

“That’s a match!” Selvig shouted a few inches from Loki’s ear, but the god couldn’t be bothered. 

He could see the woman’s face a lot more clearly now as the identification picture popped up on the screen beside a clearer version of the security footage. Loki’s head began to ache the longer he looked at the pictures. Something looked too familiar. Maybe it was the slope of her nose or the cheekbones, but something itched at the back of his brain. With one last fleeting glance, he spotted it and his breath stopped. 

Without another thought, he rose to his feet and gritted his teeth. His grip on the scepter tightened as he turned away from the two SHIELD employees.

“Bring her to me.”

It was always a sort of special occasion when Sidney would leave her secluded little cabin and head into Gainesville in order to stock up on some essentials. The man behind the counter knew her by name as he knew everyone in the town. Sidney was always polite and pleasant but never revealed anything about herself. People in town tried their hardest not to talk to the woman that secluded. Some of the kids in town whispered about her being a witch. Sidney had heard a group of them once when she was headed home and she couldn’t help but smirk at them.

Today was different. The air felt thick and the cellphone that she carried in her pocket felt heavier than usual. A weary smile crossed her face as she set the few containers of ramen noodles on the counter with the rest of her items. “Hey there, Ben. How’s your mom doing this week?”

“Oh she’s doing great, Miss Orwell!” The younger man flashed her a bright smile as he rang up her items. “Should be back runnin’ the store in no time. About time too, I don’t think my nerves could handle it anymore.”

Sidney laughed quietly as she paid her total, “I’ll keep that between us.”

She was already in her own world again as she collected her bags and made her way to the car. As she slammed her trunk closed, a vibrating noise in her purse drew her attention. Her hand flew to her back pocket and she found her cellphone was still there, That meant…

The blonde hurried into the car and pulled a smaller black phone out of her bag as she tossed her normal phone onto the passenger seat. 

Selvig. Her throat felt dry for some reason as she looked at the caller ID on the SHIELD issued phone. That had been part of the deal she’d made with Fury. She should have known better than to trust him and SHIELD after everything that had happened with Thor. Saved by the bell, she sighed out loud as the call went to her voicemail.

As she put the car in reverse, she took a deep breath before she began on her journey home. Her right hand shifted the car into drive again as her left hand entered the passcode to her voicemail.

“Sidney! It’s Erik. I don’t even know if this is still your number but give me a call when you get a minute. I have really important questions for you!”

“Why don’t you just ask Jane,” Sidney sighed as she clicked a button before she tossed the phone back into her bag. 

Still, she couldn’t shake the nagging sensation that something was wrong. 

Her suspicions were solidified as she came within eye-sight of her cabin a few miles later. An unmarked black car was parked on the side of the road just a half-mile away from her house and people were inside. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she white-knuckled it down her driveway. 

“You’re losing it, Si.” The blonde took a deep breath through her nose before she looked in her rearview mirror. The car had pulled off the side of the road and followed her now. “Well son of a bitch.”

Somehow, she managed to keep her demeanor calm as she put the car in park and walked to her door with her head held high. Sidney tried not to shudder as she heard the black car roll up closer down the driveway. She was safe in her house now but her eyes scanned the room quickly. She needed an escape route just in case and she found it just as a loud bang bang shook the door behind her.

“Just a minute,” she threw her voice as she grabbed a small swiss army knife off of her kitchen table and stuffed it one of her back pockets along with her SHIELD phone. Sidney took a deep breath and she opened the door.

“Oh! Hello, gentleman,” she flashed the two suited men a disarming smile as she peeked her head out. “How can I help you?”

“Sidney Orwell?” The shorter of the two asked. The blonde just nodded her head. “I’m Agent Downey and this is Agent Evans. We’re with SHIELD. You’re going to need you to come with us.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Sidney narrowed her eyes slightly as she glanced between the two men. “I don’t work for you. In fact, part of my deal with Fury was that he would let me live in peace if I let him keep an eye on me so I suggest you get back in your car and you leave.”

She went to push the door shut but a force stopped her. Anger flared through her as she wrenched the door open and stood to her full height. “I’m afraid we can’t do that, miss. We have orders.” Her eyes shot to the taller man. A shiver went down her spine this time as she locked eyes with him. There was something not right about it. “Erik Selvig requests your presence.”

“I don’t know Selvig was in a position to make requests of me,” she replied coolly.

“Everything could be explained if you just let us inside, ma’am.”

Sidney glanced over her shoulder into the kitchen for a moment before she stepped aside to let the two agents inside.

She closed the door behind them and quickly turned to face them. Everything about them just seemed...off. She was used to SHIELD agents and how they acted but there was something truly off about these two.

Time seemed to stand still and then all at once, everything was moving. The shorter man’s hand shot to the taser on his belt as the taller man pointed his gun at her. She hadn’t even realized she had the knife in her hand now. “Everything will be so much easier if you just come with us!” 

“Go to hell,” Sidney hissed through gritted teeth.

“The Tesseract can show you so many things.”

 Her eyes widened slightly. “What the hell did you just say?”

She didn’t get an answer. Instead she ducked as the probes of the taser embedded themselves in the door where her neck had been moments before. A yell left her as she jumped to her feet and tossed the knife at the taller man. The shorter one made a move to grab her as his partner screamed and cursed her as he tried to wrench the knife out of his hand. The woods were right there. Sidney cleared her mind as she dodged another punch from the shorter man. The man looked slightly shocked just as she punched him in the chest and sent him flying across the room. 

Without another thought, she pulled the front door open and sprinted for the woods. 

She had no idea how long she ran for. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours; all she knew was that by the time she stopped running, her lungs ached. Sidney nearly jumped out of her skin as she felt something. The cellphone in her back pocket was vibrating.

Her fingers shook as she pulled it from her pocket and answered without thinking.

“Listen you bastards if you think-”

“I see our intelligence wasn’t quite up to par on this information. I apologize, Miss Orwell,” a somewhat cheerful voice on the end cut her off. Sidney never thought she could be so happy to hear someone’s voice in her life.

“There better be a good reason why some of your agents showed up to my house unannounced talking about the Tesseract of all things, Phillip,” Sidney’s eye darted around the forest once again.

She could hear Coulson say something to someone else in the background before he replied. “Some of our agents have been...compromised.” He even sounded like he was cringing. “We were calling because we need your help.”

“I-”

“I know all about your deal, Sidney. Fury fully intends to honor it once the fate of the Earth isn’t in danger.”

Sidney swallowed hard as she started to walk again. “I want that in writing this time, Coulson,” she deadpanned.

“I’ll see what I can do. For now, just do me a favor. Walk North for about another 10 minutes. We’ll have a jet waiting for you.”

The line went dead before she could even reply.

[hoodoo12]

Elegy (1/6)

What follows is a story of Miss Argentina and Beetlejuice and how their own personal issues keep them locked in their own private hells. Contains smut and angst. It was done as a rp between @clairjohnson and myself. NSFW. Beetlejuice/Miss Argentina. Beej is a combination of movie and musical; Miss Argentina has contains hcs (such as her name and circumstances). Also contains minor mentions of OC Dante’s Inferno employees.  (Tagging people who have asked in the past. If you’d like to be tagged, hmu. If you’d like to be untagged, hmu.   @turtlepated @thewolfisapartofmysoul @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @janitor-boy @beejiesbitch @angelicspaceprince) Enjoy!

He’d married, been murdered, vanquished the evil that was Juno – he wasn’t looking forward to seeing her again anytime soon – said some weird heartfelt goodbyes to people he just terrorized, and was carried off by his clones in the smallest, most subdued mosh pit style ever, for an exit that was worthy of some kind of award, just for the theatrics of it. 

The second he was through the swirling mists of the doorway that separated the living from the Netherworld, he turned on his own clones and attacked them remorselessly, using claws and teeth to tear them apart, growling like he’d lost his mind and spitting like he was rabid. 

None of the clones attempted to fight back or escape. They were part of him, and he was so fucking angry – it made him angrier that they just took their destruction passively, his destruction, a destruction of self that made his hands drip with gore, his mouth taste like clotted blood, and his clothing, the tuxedo conjured specifically for something positive in his fucking waste of a life, a deeper color. 

He hated this fucking suit. 

He was too exhausted by the end of his rampage to flick it away, however. Stepping over the piles of meat that had been clones, he wiped his hands down his front and winced as they brushed over the new ventilation that goddamn teenager graced him with. He kicked the door to the waiting room hard enough that it bounced off the interior wall of purgatory, startling the assholes sitting around waiting for their stupid numbers to be called.

---

It had been another slow day in the waiting room. Not that Miss Argentina had any way to count “days” – time had little meaning in death – but her job was as uneventful now as it had been several hundred new arrivals ago. Staring down at her clipboard Maria crossed out the name of the last soul she’d sent back to meet their case worker. Juno was surprisingly absent at the moment, but the receptionist wasn’t too concerned. Her boss was a work-alcoholic and honestly, what else did Juno have to do? She’d be back soon. 

In a practiced motion, one she’d done a million times, Maria stood and slid open the dividing screen to the waiting room. 

“Number 5,678 Mr. Hen – “ 

The rest of the name caught in her throat when the door to the left of her was blown open, rattling on hinges that threatened to give. A split second of panic washed over her, an emotion really only needed for the living, before she saw who it was.

Betelgeuse. 

“Mr. Hendrix,” she finished, moving her gaze from the fuming poltergeist to the sorry looking dead man standing up from his seat. “Your caseworker is waiting for you – please step through those doors.” 

Maria placed her clipboard back on the desk then leaned out the window a little further, giving the older, bloodied man a deeper once over. “Back so soon, Mr. Betelgeuse? Should I pull you a number?”

"Fuck this place and fuck the numbers!" he spit, literally spit, making the ghost sitting nearest in his line of fire wipe his face as he hoisted himself up – some kind of heart attack took him, no doubt, from the lack of obvious trauma and the effort he took to get out of the molded plastic chair – and hurried as fast as he could out of range. 

He could take that chair and beat down every wall in this place. He could tear apart every single soul in this forsaken pit. He could bypass the eons of fucking waiting and just march right down the hall to the Lost Souls' Room –

– scary thing was, that option held some real fucking appeal at the moment. 

Beetlejuice glared at each and every dead person cowering in place. Fucking losers. Just like the fucking Maitlands, but worse, because they followed the goddamn directions in the fucking Handbook and were now stuck here. 

But what did that say about him? the voice in the crate in the back of his mind whispered. You tried, and you still ended up right.here.with.them. 

Beetlejuice grabbed the side of his head, mindless of the residual tackiness on his hand, and gave his hair a yank. Sometimes that dislodged the voice enough to make it shut up. 

His gaze fell on the beauty queen behind the partition. He couldn't tell if she was politely waiting for his tantrum to subside, or if she was being indifferently patient, having seen it all before.

Maria wondered, absently, where all the blood had come from. She noticed the gaping hole in his chest and assumed it might all be his – but it was always hard to tell with Betelgeuse. His brand of “bio-exorcising” wasn’t the cleanest. However, based on his outfit, she doubted his day job was what sent him back here. The fool had tried to get married again. 

Fixing him with a cool, pleasant smile, Maria yanked a number from the ticket dispenser and held it up. “I’ll just pull one for you, then. You know the rules – no number, no getting to see Juno.” 

The beauty queen leaned further out of the window and rested her chin in the palm of her hand – her clipboard and list forgotten for the moment. Red tuxedo – a classic for him. How many times had she seen him in it? She could remember at least four, and she guessed he’d worn it twice as many times before she’d crossed over. Betelgeuse never told her how old he was, but after working with him for over three decades, it was clear he had a few hundred years under his belt. 

When was he going to stop pulling this stunt? It never worked. Always ended up with him down in the waiting room – back here with her. Maria bristled, both angry and jealous that he got to leave this hell and go gallivanting top side as he pleased. Her smile tightened and she narrowed her eyes at him. 

“You never invite me to your weddings,” Maria said casually, lifting the hand from her chin to examine the ruby manicure. “Any good plans for your honeymoon?” 

She flicked her gaze up to catch his reaction.

The bitterness and pure rage inside him managed to ratchet up another notch with the receptionist's detached apathy to his situation as she offered the ticket out to him.

Anyone else, and he'd have taken that hand off at the wrist; he could feel his teeth lengthen in anticipation of it. As it were, he snatched the paper away with enough force to tear it. He crumpled it in his fist and shoved it into a pocket without looking at it, casting his glance around the room again at all the lesser assholes who were pointedly trying not to look at him and become the focus of his ire. 

Maria's words, her barbed little query spoken in her light accent, just poured salt into the gaping hole in his chest. 

"Fuck you," he roared. His voice cracked.

Maria was used to seeing Betelgeuse angry. She was also used to seeing him happy – manically so. The man had a way of taking emotions to the extreme. She was not, however, used to hearing the crack in his voice. The next biting remark died on her tongue and she peered up from her nails, her brow furrowing. 

“Oh, don’t look so upset.” She tutted, but there was less sarcasm behind it. “You have all the time in the world to try again, don’t you? It’s not like you’re stuck here (like she was). Not for long, anyway.” 

Had this time been different from his other attempts? The pain in his expression suggested so. If he kept this up she may just bring him around back to avoid disturbing the waiting ghosts. Maria didn’t like bending the rules, but for the good of her job she’d bend them. That’s what she told herself at least. For the job.

try again 

not like you're stuck here 

Her words meant to comfort stung, jamming themselves like smaller spears into his chest. She was partially right. It wasn't like he was stuck here, so long as he could convince some dumb sucker to fulfill the terms of the contract. Finding the right dumb sucker was what took the time and energy. 

That led to the whole "try again" debacle. What was the point? He'd never succeed; despite the seemingly impressive power he had in the upper world, it was useless. He was useless, like everything was smoke and mirrors and the one being fooled was him. 

He realized he had his fists clenched so hard he was shaking. The ghosts surrounding him in the mismatched furniture, patiently waiting their turn, still did their damnedest to pretend they heard and saw nothing. 

"No one is like me!" he'd shrieked in the Maitlands' faces. 

The stupid deads sitting here proved it. He had half a mind to grab the nearest one and rip him apart like he'd treated his clones, just to continue to give his rage an outlet, but on top of everything else he didn't want to deal with the consequences of that. Maria was still watching him, as if she expected him to do something of the sort, like she was steeling herself to have to intervene and de-escalate him, even though he knew it wasn't anywhere near part of her job.

The shaking of his fists drew her gaze down – would he really be so brash as to tear through the souls waiting? Not that he could actually kill anyone, but it would make them have to get a new place in line . . . and the paperwork involved would be a headache. 

Maria lifted her Miss Argentina sash over her head and draped it on the back of her chair. Quietly, but quickly, she moved around her desk and out the side door that led to the waiting room. Like approaching a wild animal you didn’t want to startle, Maria crept forward. Delicately, she placed her fingers on the side of his arm to get his attention, keeping her back straight and her expression calm. 

“How about you come wait in the back, Mr. Betelgeuse.” 

Her voice was smooth. She had started adding in the “Mr.” when he’d gone rogue and stopped working for Juno. The days of familiarity, of her calling him “Beej”, were long gone. Maria still kept a certain level of fondness for the poltergeist, though she’d never admit it aloud.

The roots of his hair were probably the color of this fucking suit. 

When Maria physically approached and laid a manicured hand on his arm, he almost spun on her. When the pressure on his arm increased, aided by her nails digging in so hard he could feel them through the layers of fabric, he forced himself to relent. 

"Fine," he agreed bitterly.

She’d felt him tense at her touch, and Maria briefly considered she’d made a grave mistake approaching him, until his muscles relaxed – slightly – under her fingers. Thank goodness. 

Keeping her hand on his arm the receptionist guided him to the office door. She peered out to catch the relief on the newly dead faces before shutting it behind her. 

“Take a seat.” She gestured to the chair next to her desk and sat back down on her own. She wanted to stay disinterested, wanted to keep things professional, but she couldn’t.

“So.” Maria pulled some papers together and tapped them on her desk until they were even. “Is most of that blood yours? I haven’t seen you looking so . . . out of sorts in quite some time.”

 The beauty queen looked at him from the corner of her eye, pretending to keep most of her attention on the work in front of her.

He sat where indicated, in the hard straight back chair beside her desk. If he wanted, he could look up and see the filing cabinets, the paths in the rug worn through to the subfloor underneath, the endless stacks of paper, and the hallway where the caseworker's offices were. 

He didn't want to. He could walk through the place blindfolded. Nothing changed in the Netherworld; it was all slog and dismay. And they thought he was crazy for wanting back out?! 

A cigarette appeared in his hand. Sticking it between his lips he glanced up at her question and statement. 

"Yeah. The blood's mine. First from that goddamn teenager and second – " He broke off there and used lighting the cigarette as an excuse not to finish and admit he'd torn apart his own clones in a fit of rage. " – never mind. Nothing matters. It's the same shit for eternity."

Maria watched, with pointed interest, as he brought the cigarette up to his mouth. Well, at least the blood was his. Less mess for Juno to clean up later. 

“Thanks.” She drawled sardonically, bringing her own cigarette into existence. “I’d love one.” 

As she took a drag, Maria let his remark sit in silence for a few moments, unsure of how to respond. Most of the dead seemed to be having an on-going crisis – and if Beej had been feeling the same, he’d never let on. 

“You’ve always been one for the dramatics. But never nihilism.” She paused, “ – also, did you just say teenager? You know what – I don’t want to know.” 

She threw her hand up at that, waving the question off. He was a scumbag, to be sure, but the thought of him being that scummy was not an idea she wanted to entertain.

He'd have felt bad about not offering her a smoke if he was in a different state of mind. As it were, it didn't even register until she pointed it out. Even then he couldn't quite bring himself to care. It was easy, however, to fill in the blanks she left out. 

"It was a fuckin' green card thing," he growled. "Most teens – especially gothy ones who think their existence is the worst of anyone, ever – are dumb as shit. Easy to manipulate. Except this one was too damn clever for her own good. She used – " 

It was on the tip of his tongue to admit his naked, desperate desire to be accepted was used effectively against him, but that made sour bile rise in the back of his throat and he had to swallow it down again. 

" – ugly art to impale me," he corrected after only a brief hesitation. He took a deep drag, and was dismayed to see that some smoke drifted out the hole in his chest. That kid must've punctured a lung. He sighed as he pulled at his shirt to try and cover it. 

From the corner of his eye he watched her watch him. He didn't want her pity. He didn't know what he wanted, but he knew he didn't want her pity.

Maria felt herself relax at his growled response – pleased to hear he was still a normal scumbag of the con-man variety. She couldn’t hide the twitch of her lips into a smile when he admitted how he kicked the bucket this time around. She’d seen a lot of dumb ways to die, but ugly art was a first. Chuckling through a drag, she eyed the smoke coming out of his chest, causing her lips to curl even further upward. 

As good as it was to have him talking, the anger radiating off him was still obvious. She could practically feel it on her skin. Whenever he got out of hand Juno was usually around to deal with him – but not this time. She was still surprisingly absent. Fortunately, Maria had worked here long enough to know what her boss’s trump card was. 

“Juno’s been away from the office today.” she started, putting out her cigarette in the glass tray on her desk. “And you look like you’re in the need of a distraction after . . . your little accident.” 

The receptionist spun her chair to face him, one slender bare leg crossed over the other, and raised a brow at the bloodied ghost. 

“How does a drink or two at Dante’s sound? On Juno’s tab, of course.” 

She smiled, scarlet lips parting to show off her straight white smile. In many ways the two were opposites. Beej was unapologetically himself, moss and all, while Miss Argentina went to great lengths to appear perfect. Even though she had let some of that anxiety go in death, bad habits were hard to break. 

“I’ll join you – if you don’t mind. I could use some time out of the office.”

In an effort to appear disinterested in the state of both his clothing and the new hole he was going to have to figure out how to close, Beetlejuice kept his eyes on the paperwork she'd straightened. A kid's profile, from the looks of it. One perk about working as Juno's assistant way back when was helping the kids when they came through –

He glanced up sharply when Maria mentioned Dante's. Actually suggesting it, and accompanying him to it. He would've thought that the beauty queen would pretend that place never existed, although he knew she must have been both scouted and offered a job there. 

"On Juno's tab? A drink or five sounds great." 

Some time that old hag was going to show up again, slathered in Sandworm spit and gastric juices, and he'd much rather not be found here if possible. He stood up abruptly, making the wooden chair squeal against the floor. 

"Fine. I'll let you take me out."

“Only drinks, Mr. Betelgeuse. I’m not paying for any other services.” 

Miss Argentina hadn’t had a chance to be out in quite some time. With an eternity stretching out in front of you, there was little rush to do much of anything other than your assigned job. Peering down at her burgundy gown, she also realized she hadn’t changed her outfit in years – wearing the same dress to two different parties used to be a mortifying thought when she was alive. 

How things change. The beauty queen stood, and with a few moments of concentration, changed into a red cocktail dress. Her French curled hair now in tight waves around her shoulders. It felt nice. A little like being alive, even. Even if it was just to go out and watch this man get drunk off his ass. But she understood his desire to live again – didn’t all ghosts wish they could be top side? He was certainly the most tenacious about getting there. 

“All right, ready when you are,” she said while smoothing down her new outfit. She turned from the older man and started towards the office exit, throwing a ‘are you coming?’ glance over her shoulder at him.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from her hands smoothing down the fabric of her choice of dress. With his cigarette still caught between two fingers, he ran his thumb over his lower lip, thinking about the differences between the dead and the breathers changing clothing – the breathers had to take it off and put it back on, versus simply willing a new outfit into existence. 

Of course the dead could be titillatingly mundane, if they chose. It was too bad this was the never-closed office, and there was a waiting room full of ghosts on the other side of the glass partition –  

At her invitation and with a sigh, Beetlejuice stepped off the road that daydream was headed. He'd lost the chance with her a long time ago. 

He flicked his still lit cigarette into the ether and decided if she was going to be dolled up, it wouldn't be right for him to accompany her in what he was wearing. Between one step towards the door and the next, his blood-soaked tux became his favorite striped suit. He left the hole in his torso under his shirt. 

"Lead the way, muñeca." tbc . . .

[twdbegins]

Gone From You

__

Simon x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Language, smut.

A/N: I’m writing in third person nowwwwww. Changing it upppppp.

Word Count: 2,161

“You know I could never sleep without you.”

__

He cursed under his breath for the millionth time that day. Why couldn’t people just do as they were told? He felt like he was constantly having to clean up other people’s messes just to keep things from totally falling apart. He expected there to be mistakes and hiccups along the way. That was only natural. Lately, though, it seemed that EVERYONE was fucking EVERYTHING up. The ones who were never an issue and always did their work well were suddenly falling short and causing chaos. Simon wasn’t trying to be the kind of guy that wanted to do everything on his own because he felt like he was the only one competent enough to do it. But sometimes it was easier to do things himself to assure they would get done right. He had been running himself busy to the bone, because he really cared about this place and wanted it to thrive. 

She didn’t like watching him do this to himself. He was totally overwhelming and overworking himself to the point where he was tired in all aspects. He was a hard worker for sure and she respected that about him. She would never discourage his work ethic, but what he was doing wasn’t healthy at all. He needed a break and needed to take time to think about better ways to do his job. However, she realized that getting this through his head would be a challenge. He straggled into his room late one night, already pissed off and not really in the mood to talk about work.

She wouldn’t have brought it up if she had realized just how upset he was. But like the efficiently sneaky guy he was, he didn’t exactly make his frustration obvious to her. She mentioned it calmly and sweetly, but didn’t get the response she expected;

“Simon,” She called; “I’m not sure that the way you’re handling these things is right.”

He yanked his boots off and angrily tossed them into the corner of the room. He scoffed and shook his head incredulously;

“Oh, great. Now my girlfriend is telling me how to do my job too.” He sneered.

Her eyes widened slightly at that. That wasn’t what she was trying to do. She didn’t want to aggravate him any further, but he needed to hear what she was saying;

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m really worried about you,” She confessed; “You’re running yourself dry and I just don’t want to see you completely stress yourself out.”

The tips of his ears went red as his blood pressure continued to rise. He felt like everybody was against him and that he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He wasn’t angry at her. She knew this, which is how she kept her patience. He desperately needed to talk about his feelings, but he didn’t know how to. He was only taking his anger out on her because she was there.

“Maybe I should worry about myself then, yeah?” He growled.

She tried her best not to take it personally. He needed time to process everything and cool off. That didn’t make his demeanor and words hurt any less. She went quiet for the time being. She knew better than to say anything else. He slid into bed shortly after, a deep sigh escaping his chest. He rested one of his arms over his eyes to keep any remaining light from irritating his sudden headache any more.

He knew deep down that he wasn’t being right to her. She cared about him and wanted him to be happy. It wasn’t fair that he was taking his own problems out on her. Against her head’s wishes, she figured it would be best if he was alone tonight. She waited a few more moments before swinging her feet over the side of the bed. She changed back into her clothes that she had been wearing earlier. He heard her soft racket and removed his arm to look at her;

“Where are you going?” He asked, a little less harshly than before.

She looked back to him, keeping her same soft tone;

“I’m, uh, going to go check on some stuff in the infirmary,” She said pushing her feet into her boots; “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

He felt guilty suddenly. He didn’t mean to push her away the way he had been the last month or so. She was the last person he wanted to be on bad terms with. He sat up quickly and called for her;

“[Y/N], wait. I’m-” 

She was already out the door and on her way down the hall by the time he had a chance to get a sentence out. Another deep sigh sounded from his lungs, but for a different reason. He wasn’t being fair to her. He suddenly realized how his selfishness and pent up frustration was affecting the ones closest to him. He was always so quick to take it out on those around him. He considered it a fatal flaw of sorts. He didn’t waste much time before getting out of bed again and also re-dressing himself. He wasn’t going to let this go on. He owed her an apology and an explanation.

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he walked down the desolate hallway. It was still and quiet during the late night hours, something he hadn’t been accustomed to in the last several weeks. He thought of her as he continued to walk quietly around the Sanctuary to the infirmary. The way she cared for him at all times of the day and how she was always there for him even when he probably didn’t deserve him. She always sought out and focused on the more pleasurable things about him. Like here he was now, being an absolute jerk to her and she was still patient enough to understand that he wasn’t angry at her. 

He loved her to an extent that he could barely comprehend, which was another reason why he felt a guilt ridden pit in his stomach as he grew closer to where she was.

He saw her in the wheeled chair that she kept in the room, she spun herself glacially from side to side as her eyes scanned each line in the book she was reading. Her head rested in her hand, unbothered and unaware of him standing in the entranceway. He watched her for a moment or so before easily saying her name to get her attention. Her head snapped up and her gaze averted to him. Her eyes were full of surprise at the sight of her boyfriend who she had just left back in her bedroom just a few moments ago. She was sure he would’ve fallen asleep by now. She closed the cover of her book and kept her stare on him.

“Hey.” He said somewhat awkwardly.

“Hi,” She replied back; “I figured you’d be asleep by now.”

He shrugged, his signature grin appearing on his face;

“Come on now. You know me better than that,” He said entering the room fully, closing the door behind him; “You know I could never sleep without you.”

She returned a warm smile at his remark. He always said he slept better when he was with her. She stayed in her seat, trying to gauge his mood. She didn’t want to upset him further by crowding him. He leaned against the counter where she kept supplies in the cabinets above it, just a few feet from her. He wasn’t exactly sure of what to say, but he had to say something.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” He apologized in his deep, low voice.

She felt a wave of warmth wash through her. It was a relief to hear him say those words. She knew he had a lot going on that didn’t have to do with her. Still, it was nice to confirm that he really wasn’t upset with her.

“It’s okay, Si. Don’t worry about it.” She said finally standing from her chair and walking over to him.

He shook his head;

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t ever talk to you like that. You don’t deserve that.” He noted.

She wrapped her arms around him, resting her chin on his chest and looking up at him. 

“You’re a man under a lot of pressure right now. You can only take so much,” She assured him; “I understand that.”

“Pressure or not, it doesn’t make it right for me to push you away like that and then get angry when you reach out to me,” He explained; “I’ve missed you.”

She turned her head just slightly so her head was tilted as she continued to look up at him. Oh, that face she always made when she was listening closely to him made him weak in the knees. He kissed her forehead as he let his own arms drape around her. He had so missed holding her in these moments where it was just the two of them. Even if it had only been a month or so without her, when it came to love, it felt like an eternity. 

“You know I care about you, right?” He asked, letting his fingers gently drag across her head and massage her scalp.

She hummed in response;

“Yeah. Of course I do.” 

He smiled again and kept her body close to his;

“Good, because I don’t ever want you to forget that I do care about you and I love you endlessly. You’re not any part of the reason I’ve been stressed out lately.” He purred.

She told him that she loved him back between kisses, something she had definitely missed recently. His slow kisses traveled down her neck, the sound of her whimpers and soft gasps beginning to stimulate him. She sank down to her knees and before he knew it, her nimble fingers were unbuckling his belt the way she had done dozens of times before. His heart began to race and his breathing quickened at the feel of her hands pulling his boxers to the floor to pool around his feet. He sprung free and forth in front of her, a devious smirk forming on her face. Instinctively, his hand went to the back of her head and wrapped gingerly into her hair;

“Oh, baby. You don’t have to-” 

A throaty moan flowed from his chest as she cut him off by wrapping her lips around his tip. She pushed her head forward and drew it back slowly a few times, enough to get him riled up before releasing him for a moment;

“You really want to talk yourself out of this?” She coyly spoke.

He only shook his head with shallow breaths, his hand persuading her head back to his crotch. She took him into her mouth again, licking a solid stripe from the shaft to the tip before he pulled out and slammed back into her throat. He pulled her head back enough to where she could do as she pleased, but he had enough leeway to keep himself grounded. 

He pushed back in, hitting her reflex as he usually did, but she knew to swallow around him and push through it. She looked up at him and his head had fallen back against one of the cabinets. His soft groans and moans were all she needed to hear to know to continue her oral ministrations. He eventually looked down at her, his chest fluttering and his voice ringing out;

“You’re always so good. So pretty on your knees for me...” He breathed out.

She couldn’t help but let out her own moan at that, he continued to help to pull in and out of her mouth. He fucking loved her. Not just in moments like this, because she was so much more to him than a good blowjob giver. Although, she was that too. 

She knew he was close, the slight twitch that she felt was a sign of that. They knew each other’s signals and signs backwards and forwards. It wasn’t like this was their first time together. It surely wouldn’t be the last. 

“God...you’re such a good girl,” He gasped, almost crying out; “Fuck...”

She felt his release hit the back of her throat, his eyes rolling back for a few seconds as he came in her mouth. She grunted lightly at the sudden sensation, but swallowed all of him and leaned back on her heels and wiped at her slightly teary eyes and swollen lips. She gave him a second to recover, his hand softly gripping her arm to bring her up to him;

“Come here.” He pulled her to him once more, kissing her tenderly and passionately.

She giggled against him and he could feel a little bit of the tension had gone. He knew one thing for damn sure.

He wasn’t going to leave her like that ever again.